Chapter 25

Hunter

If she loved me, she’d hold out hope. She would try. Yeah, holidays and parties will suck with Kade pissed off—and I don’t want him to be hurt—but those events won’t be any less awkward now. Every time I see her, I’ll want her, and she’ll know it.

I close my eyes, rolling my neck as I move to the chest press. I blow out a long breath, trying to get her out of my head.

Coach told us to stay out of the gym and rest, but we leave for the game in a few hours, and I don’t want to be home with Farrow. Best to stay busy.

I hear cars through the auto shop door peeling out of the parking lot, classes today were a mess as no one’s mind was on anything other than the game. The cheer team and band are eating sandwiches catered by a few of the parents up in the gym, and my team is carb-loading at Fletcher’s, whose wife helped him make the guys breakfast for dinner. Eggs, rice, oatmeal, turkey bacon, and potatoes.

I should be with them. It would distract me, at least. Dylan hasn’t spoken to me since the pool party Wednesday night, and I haven’t pushed her, either.

Two days.

She didn’t tell me she loved me back.

I’m not going to say it again, and I’m not going to force into her space like I did Monday after school every time I want to fuck. It’s not enough.

I sit on the bench and start the presses, wishing it was tomorrow already. I’ll wake up, knowing we already won, and I’ll start working on my application to Chicago again, gearing up to start my life at the end of the year. There are other girls out there for me.

“Kade won’t be tiring himself out before the game.”

I pause, hearing Dylan’s voice behind me. She came in through the auto shop.

I continue moving my arms up and down, tightening every muscle. “Just warming up,” I tell her.

I hear her footsteps on the padded floor before she’s coming around my side to face me. I stare ahead, but I can tell she’s still wearing what she wore to school today. High-waisted jeans with a vintage brown and pink Sukajan jacket, crop top underneath. She hasn’t gone home yet. I imagine she’ll be changing into Pirate gear for the game.

She stares down at me. “If you win, what happens?”

I grunt, pushing the bar up. “We’ll feel good.”

“You will?”

I don’t meet her eyes. Yeah, it’ll feel good. It’ll actually feel great to shut him up.

She slides her hands into her pockets. “If you lose, what happens?”

I drop my hands, hearing the bar clang back into place. I shoot my eyes up to her as I rise. “Get out.”

I grab my towel and move toward the rowing machine.

“If he wins…” she says, following me. “Did you even think? After the game? What happens then? If he wins?”

I slam my towel down on the floor and turn to glare down at her.

“What are you going to do when you’re standing on the field, sweat dripping down your face, out of breath, watching him celebrate with his team?”

I lock my jaw so hard my teeth ache.

“He’s going to feed off that high for years,” she goes on.

No. I refuse to wake up tomorrow, knowing I lost.

“He might win,” she continues, “and I’m going to go home, and what will you do then? Keep running, thinking your happiness is out there somewhere, and always feeling second place, because you learned nothing? Because you thought winning a game would beat him.”

“Stop.”

“Because you wrapped all of your value into proving something to someone who never loses, even when he does.”

“Stop,” I grit out.

“Because doing this for the wrong reasons will make me see you as less than a man.”

Motherfucker…

I spin away from her, grab a barbell, and throw it into the mirrored wall, glass splintering and cracks spreading two feet long.

I shake, still seeing her behind me, calm and watching.

Less than a man…

I’m not doing this for the wrong reasons. Everyone needs to prove themselves at some point. I don’t…

It’s not wrong to want to succeed and have him see that and then watch me walk off the field without a backward glance, like it all meant nothing.

But I hesitate as she stands there, and I feel a trickle of sweat glide down the back of my neck.

It does mean something.

For a year, it’s meant everything.

What if he wins?

Will I still go home Sunday?

I can’t fucking walk in that house in no better position than when I left. With him knowing he won everything. Him knowing that he beat me at everything.

I stand there, my shallow breathing hard and fast as it pours in and out of my nose.

Eyes burning, I turn to her and take her face, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “You still have two more nights in Weston. We’re not done.”

I leave, the warning still hanging in the air as I dive into the locker room to shower.

He’s going to win…

Second place…

Does she think that?

I blink long and hard as I stand under the spray, pushing it out of my mind. I have to clear my head, stay in the moment, and do my job.

This is about a game. It’s my turn.

My brain drifts back to the doubt minutes later when I’m dressing, and I shove it away again.

It arises still when some of us climb into our cars and some of us into the bus as we head to Helm’s Field.

We’ll push them back.

Every time.

We’ll win.

But the more I try to talk myself up, the emptier I feel, and I have to force my breathing to slow down as we dress in one of their locker rooms, and I feel the walls start closing in as we run onto the field.

If we lose, what then?

I twist my head, cracking my neck as the stadium fills and people walk to their seats with drinks and popcorn.

What then?

“It’s not the last game of the season,” the announcer booms over the loudspeaker, “but it’s certainly our favorite! Welcome one and all to Friday Night Football! This game is sponsored by…”

“Are your parents here?” Farrow asks next to me.

I look around, scanning the Pirate sideline and then the fifty-yard line seats across from me. My dad will want to have the best view.

“They wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him, still not finding them, though.

“Well, at least Ciaran’s on your side,” he says.

I follow his gaze behind us to my grandfather sitting in the front row, tapping away on his phone.

My grandfather wouldn’t choose sides with his grandchildren.

He’d show up to support his son, though. I dart my gaze to Farrow and then the field.

I pull on my helmet, finding Kade across the field surrounded by his teammates as they listen to their coach’s instructions.

Just then, he shoots his arm in the air, looking to the end zone as if waving. I glance, finally seeing our parents. They sit on top of the flat roof of the pavilion that houses a couple of picnic tables beyond the field goal posts and the chain-link fence. I smile, making out my parents and A.J., as well as Jared, Jax, and their families. A couple of extra kids sit with them, and I think they must be Aro’s brother and sister that Jax and Juliet foster.

Hawke and Aro are present, too, and everyone sits on camp chairs with a couple of coolers around.

They found a way to watch without picking sides.

Some are dressed in Pirate colors, while a few—like Jared—don’t go in for things like team pride. My dad wears an orange and black T-shirt, but a wolf’s head hat. I shake with laughter at the long-ass snout protruding off his forehead, because he’s supporting both of his sons and doesn’t give a shit about looking ridiculous.

I study each form from a distance, not seeing Dylan among them at all.

Not with Aro. Not with her parents.

I look behind me, not spotting her with Mace or Coral, and I don’t find her on the other side, either. She could be here. It’s a lot of people.

I’m not paying attention to the announcer, and only know it’s time for the coin toss when Farrow whips his hand at my stomach. “Let’s go.”

With our helmets on, Constin, Farrow, Calvin, and I head to the middle of the field, Kade and his crew walking to meet us.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the referee says. “Let’s have a fun, clean game—”

But Kade is speaking before he’s done. “Switched sides, huh?” he asks me. “I was hoping to see you running after me.”

I turn my eyes to the referee.

“Heads.” He shows us the coin and then flips it. “Tails.” He points to us. “You’re the visitors. Call it in the air, please.”

He tosses it up, and I hear Farrow say, “Tails.”

It lands on the turf below, the referee leaning over to read it. “And it’s tails.”

“We’ll take the ball,” I announce.

My guys start to leave, and Kade’s do as well.

Kade stares at me. “I promised a nice, crisp fifty-dollar bill every time they sack you,” he tells me. “Try not to let it happen too much.”

He grins and walks away, and I turn, Farrow at my side.

“What a fucking asshole,” he grumbles.

But I just look up in the stands for Dylan.

Why isn’t she here?

Is she that certain I’ll lose?

Huh?

Spinning around, I pace back and forth as the coach gives direction, but I’m barely listening.

She’s not here.

The whistle goes off, we take the field, and I feel Kade. He’s on my left, watching me from the sidelines, and I look over the faces of his team. Stoli, Dirk, and all the rest.

“Relax, boys,” Stoli tells his team. “Hunter plays like shit.”

Heat courses down my arms, my chest swells with ire, and I fucking growl, “Two-seventy!” She doesn’t need to be here. I can do this without her. “Two-seventy!”

Luca hikes the ball, and I catch it, my offense charging ahead. Constin runs, Dirk chasing after him, and I see the Pirates pushing past my line and coming for me.

I jerk my head left, then right, Constin the only option. I hesitate and then…I launch the ball, watching it fly ten yards—then twenty—before a body crashes into me, dragging me to the ground.

My knee twists out, and I wince, holding back my howl as a Pirate—then two—pile on top of me.

The crowd cheers, but I can’t tell which side, or if Constin caught the fucking ball.

“It’s going to be a long night for you, traitor,” someone says, shoving their knee into my gut as they rise.

I roll over, breathing hard and straightening out my leg.

I don’t wait. I’m not giving him the satisfaction. Pushing myself up, I walk and then run to the twenty-yard line, getting back in formation as my team celebrates the completed pass.

“You okay?” Calvin asks.

I don’t reply. I look to the coach, watching his signals, and then shout to the team. “Blue forty-two! Blue forty-two, set, hit!”

The ball snaps, I catch it, and everyone floods each other, my guys pushing back against their defense. I pass the ball to Calvin, he passes it back to me, and I rear back to throw it to Constin, but someone barrels into me, and I’m gone. On the ground, the crowd losing their minds as Pirates jump on me, crushing my ribs into the football between me and the ground.

I groan as more weight crushes me, and I can barely fucking breathe. What the fuck?

The whistle goes off, and the weight lessens. Someone reaches down to help me, but I shove them away, still clutching the football.

Constin and Stoli push each other, part of the crowd cheering and part of them booing, and I refrain from looking over at my brother.

“What a shitshow,” I grit out.

I can’t look at my parents.

Calvin walks back with me, still on the first set of downs. “I don’t think your brother will be happy until something is broken,” he says.

No shit. Two plays, and I’ve already lost him a hundred dollars.

The clock runs, I get into position and call the play. The ball shoots to my hands, and I throw, but the pass is incomplete.

“Whoo!” the Pirates cheer, Dirk shoving me in the chest. “Again! Again!”

Constin thrusts him back. “Fuck you,” he says.

They get into each other’s faces, Luca pushes a Pirate, and I step in. “Enough!”

We go again, Constin charges to the end zone, and I dig the toe of my shoe into the grass, throwing the ball. He catches it, running into the end zone, and I almost have time to smile before I’m tackled into the grass again.

Pain splits my side, and I grunt, feeling something knock against my ear, inside the helmet, as another body topples on top of me.

Fuck... Where’s the fucking foul?

Pirates peel off me, and my guys are there, flipping me over.

“You okay?” Calvin asks.

“Help me up.”

They pull me to my feet, and I flinch at the pain in my body. Rebels party in the stands, the guys chatter excitedly, and we get into position for the extra point. Where’s Dylan?

Where would she be if she’s not here?

Extra point goes on the board, offense moves to the sideline, and Farrow steps on with defense as Kade takes the field.

He gets into position, points at me, and I slip off my helmet, but I can’t watch. I stare at the ground, knowing every time he gains yardage, moving closer and closer to the end zone. Guys roll to the ground, and I hear curses and insults, and I still don’t look at my family.

I don’t have to look at them to know that they hate what they’re watching.

I don’t have to look at them to know Dylan’s not here.

We may or may not win, but I’ll wake up alone tomorrow.

She’s done with us. That’s why she’s not here. She doesn’t care about the game. She can’t watch us do this.

Kade scores a touchdown, our offense steps on the field, then them again, and by the end of the second half, it’s seventeen to seven, Pirates.

The band marches, people leave their seats for the bathroom or food, and the teams drift into the locker room.

“Hunter, half time,” Dewitt calls.

I turn my head, just enough so he’ll hear me over my shoulder. “I’m staying here.”

“Now!”

“I’m staying here!”

They leave, and I don’t sit. I stand there and hydrate and fume, but shit fills my head like a bucket, pouring in until it overflows, and all of a sudden, my head falls back and my shoulders sink.

I don’t even like football that much. I never did.

I played, because I knew Dad loved his kids in sports, and if Dylan was at the games, then I wanted her to watch me as much as she did Kade.

I laugh with no one there to hear.

“Do you love your brother?” a voice asks next to me.

I look over to see my mom.

I stare at her a while, and I don’t want to lie to her, but God, it’s been so long since Kade was my brother. I forget what it feels like. “I want to,” I tell her.

She nods. “It’s just a game, Hunter. It won’t solve anything. It won’t humble him to lose. Why are you really here?”

I stare down into her eyes, the tears not falling, and I hate to think of how my family is seeing this.

“I want to face him.”

She shakes her head. “You’re so much better than that. Why are you here?”

I turn away, swallowing through the needles in my throat.

“Anger happens,” she says, “but you can’t let it be your entire identity.”

It never used to be. Having Dylan close showed me how good it felt to be happy. I want that every fucking day.

“For the team,” I tell her. “I want this for Farrow and the guys. They need it.”

She gives me a small smile, looking proud of me finally. “That’s what I thought.”

She heads back to my dad, and the teams walk out, the referees take up position, and the second half starts.

Running up to the guys on the field, I pull on my helmet. “Spot left. Twenty-five dive.”

They gape at me. “Are you sure?” Calvin asks.

I look to Constin. “Spot left. Twenty-five dive.”

He smiles.

“Ready?” I ask.

They clap. “Ready.”

We line up, facing the Pirate defense, and Ozzy Ozborne plays over the speakers of the stadium.

I look left to right. “Yellow thirty-two!” I shout. “Yellow thirty-two!”

Luca snaps the ball, and all in slow motion I see the Pirates charge ahead. Constin runs behind me, and I twist, passing off the ball. He barrels through the shit, leaping over the players, and just fucking runs, and by the time the Pirates know who has the ball, he’s already ten yards ahead. Digging in, he races as Dirk comes in for me. I twist out of his way, watching and holding my breath, fists tight and body charged until…

Constin flies over a Pirate trying to tackle him and rolls right into the end zone.

“Yes!” I howl, jumping and pumping my fists with my team. I look over the field goal post, seeing my parents standing and cheering, and I see my dad’s smile from here.

Kade takes the field, struggling for yards, but he makes a first down, and a touchdown with a pitch from the five-yard line. The score is twenty-four to fourteen. It’s our turn again, but we’re unable to get past their defense. We manage to make a field goal, bringing us up to seventeen.

The fourth quarter moves in, and Farrow and I walk down the line, pumping up the players. “They’re going to bed pissed tonight!” Farrow shouts. “We’re not giving up another yard!”

“Not one more!” I yell.

Farrow runs into position, and Dewitt grabs my arm. “Take tackle.”

“What?”

“Keep that little shit from scoring one more time,” he grits out.

He means my brother, and I almost feel a stab of pride for Kade. I nod.

Running into the lineup, I stare at Kade as he notices me too. “Grew a pair, huh?” he taunts. “This is going to be fun!”

I look to Farrow, nodding once, and Kade throws a glare at my friend and then back to me.

He calls out his play, catches the ball, and just as Farrow and I predicted, he fakes passing and runs it instead.

But I’m already there, on his tail, chasing him hard. The wind blows past me, players run at each other, and I dig in, pursuing him hard. Almost there, almost there, and then…I take him to the ground before he reaches the end zone.

The ball spills out of his hands, and all at once, everyone scrambles. Farrow grabs the ball, spins around, and I flip over, watching everyone charge after him as he barrels back the other direction.

“Fucking son of a bitch!” Kade bellows at me.

I grin, out of breath as I lie on the ground. “Hey now, that’s your mom too,” I tease.

Farrow scores a touchdown, and Kade screams, “Fuck!”

I laugh, but only because after the extra point, we’re tied, and Weston might not deserve this any more than the Falls, but they’ll appreciate it more.

The stadium fills with thunder as the crowd pounds their feet.

I rise up next to Kade, watching my team celebrate and memorizing the image for the years to come. I don’t need to fucking beat Kade. I don’t know what the hell I’ve been thinking, but this feels a hell of a lot better than some validation from him that was never going to come no matter how many games I win.

“You pushed the ball out of my hands!” he growls.

I cock an eyebrow. I didn’t touch his hands.

I walk away, but he shoves me to the ground, and before I know it, he’s on top of me, I’m laughing, and the referee is blowing his whistle as the teams run in to join in the fun.

“Ah, shit.” I wince, peeling off my jersey, pads, and undershirt.

The locker room practically vibrates, excited chatter, laughter, and energy bouncing off the walls as people rush around and celebrate.

We won. By one touchdown.

And while the Falls will spin some narrative over bad calls or something, we wouldn’t have wanted to earn it easily. I’m glad it was close.

“You sure you didn’t break a rib?” Farrow asks.

“No, I’m not sure, actually.”

It was worth it, though. Every family in Weston will be smiling this weekend, even the ones who don’t give a shit about football.

“Everyone smile!” Calvin shouts.

I look over, players crowding together as Farrow hangs over my shoulder and cups a hand around his mouth, howling. I grin, Calvin snapping a picture.

Everyone moves away, and I lift my arm, checking my ribs for bruising. It fucking hurts.

But still, I’d scoop up my Pirate girl and let her wrap her legs around my battered body if she were outside waiting right now.

She skipped the game, because she knew what I didn’t. She knew what my mom knew. There’s no victory in doing anything for the wrong reasons.

I did it for my friends.

Coach Dewitt comes in, carrying the game ball, guys crowding around.

“You won!” he calls out, followed by a round of cheers as people bang on their lockers. “I couldn’t be prouder, and you know what got you here? Not luck, not muscle, and not even hard work!” He looks around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Willpower. You are capable of everything, and never forget that!”

“Whoo! Whoo!” the guys shout.

“You will get distracted in life,” he goes on, “and you will make mistakes, but you can always come back to this moment and remember it was you that got you here.”

I drop my eyes. I know the words aren’t for me. He’s not worried about me.

“Game ball goes to Hunter Caruthers,” he shouts.

He moves in, holding out the ball as someone grabs my shoulders from behind and shakes me in congratulations.

I smile, taking it and absolutely wanting to keep it, but…

It wouldn’t be right to take it with me when I go.

“Thanks,” I say to everyone. “Especially for not beating the Knight and Pirate secrets out of me at practice.”

They laugh, someone yelling. “We’re gonna beat the Knights fair and square too!”

A round of cheers goes off, everyone excited for next week’s game that I’m not sure I’ll be here for.

I hold up the ball. “But this stays in Weston,” I tell them. “Everyone signs it. Come on.”

I grab the Sharpie off Dewitt’s lanyard and pass it off to Farrow with the ball, letting him sign first.

I stuff my pads, shirt, and jersey into my duffel bag, but before I can get to the shower, I hear my name.

“Hunter…”

I look around.

“Hunter!” someone calls.

I see Luca pushing through all the bodies to get to me. “Kade took your car!” he says.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Mace just grabbed me outside. She said he told her you’d ‘know where to find him.’”

How the hell did he take my car? He doesn’t have keys…

But then I stop, realizing. I have a spare set in my desk drawer, and he was in my fucking room last week.

Christ. I slam my locker shut and spin, Farrow already slapping his bike keys into my palm and handing me his helmet.

I give him a nod and shoot off, dashing out of the locker room.

“You want us to come?” Luca shouts.

But I’m already gone. I run outside, still in my pants and shoes as the chilly air hits my chest, and I feel the dirt on my fingers as I grind my fists.

I’d know where to find him?

I stand outside, people filling the parking lot as they make their way to their cars.

We didn’t have a place where just the two of us hung out. I have no idea…

Then, I stop.

Dylan.

He would go to Dylan to take the only other thing from me that he can.

Climbing on Farrow’s bike, I head the short distance to Fallstown, forcing myself to not speed, and determined not to fight. At least in front of her.

I pull onto the empty country road, not driving long before I see the long driveway into the race park. I coast down, trees on both sides, and spot my car dead ahead, at the end of the lane, just before the track. A parking lot sits to my right, and I see a blue and black motorbike race around the bend, continuing on around the Loop.

Kade leans against my hood, only the back of his head visible as he watches Dylan.

Parking the bike next to my car, I climb off and remove the helmet, hanging it on a handlebar.

I walk to his side and lean against the car.

He draws in a breath. “I’m sure she thought I was you from a distance and yet, she ignores me.” He glances over at me. “She mad at you?”

I give a small smile, watching Dylan lean into the far turn. No one is here, which is odd for a Friday night, but with the game, I guess Jared gave the crews the night off. “She’s busy,” I tell him. “And you and I have drained enough of her time.”

I can’t remember the last time we stood so close and didn’t yell.

I hold out my hand. “Give me my keys.”

Watching Dylan train on the otherwise deserted track, he drops the keys in my hand. “You didn’t win anything, you know?” he says. “In a week, they’ll be spinning a story about how we gave it to Weston out of pity.”

I nod, running down the narrative they’ll likely spin. “The fumble looked so real… Kade’s just so amazing, selling it as well as he did…. So self-sacrificing,” I coo. “Let’s all go suck his cock.”

He smiles and stands up straight, turning to face me. I do the same.

Darting out his hands, he shoves me in the chest. “Are you coming home now?”

I stumble, laughing under my breath. “I might.”

He shoves me again, and I stop the grunt of pain before it escapes fully.

He gets in my face. “Is that a yes or a no?” he bites out.

I hear Dylan’s bike close in again. I keep my hands to myself.

“I like it across the river,” I tell him. “The teachers are cool, and Farrow’s a fucking slob, but he has my back.”

Kade’s glare sharpens because he’s never backed me up.

“T.C., Anders, Luca, Calvin, Constin, Mace, Coral…” I list off all the other friends I’m lucky to have. “Yeah, I like it there.”

He grabs me by the back of the neck and yanks me to the ground, the pavement cutting into my back. I growl as he straddles me and squeezes my throat in his fist, hitting me across the face.

“Guys, stop!” I hear Dylan somewhere off to my left.

But Kade doesn’t. “You don’t give a shit about our parents!” he screams at me. “They want you home!”

“Stop, or I’ll call the police!” Dylan yells.

I shove Kade to the side and leap to my feet, facing him as he rises.

Dylan takes a couple steps toward us. “Enough!”

I only stare at Kade, though. “I like it there, so it works out for everyone. I can stay in Weston, then there’s nothing standing in your way,” I finish explaining. “Because she won’t have me like this. She doesn’t love me!”

“Hunter…” Her voice cracks.

“But maybe…” I say, no longer yelling, because sadness swells in my fucking throat. “Maybe, eventually, she’ll love you, and maybe you’ll be happy, and you’ll get off my fucking back!”

I don’t know what the hell he wants!

“She doesn’t love me,” I tell him again. “There’s no reason to hate me or to be jealous of me—”

“I wasn’t jealous of you!” he bellows. “I was jealous of her!”

I go still, Dylan and I falling silent as tears shake in Kade’s bloodshot eyes, threatening to spill.

His breathing is hard and heavy, and I turn the words over in my head, trying to understand. Jealous of her?

“What?” I ask, confused.

What does she have that he wants?

He turns a little, hiding his face as a bitter laugh that sounds almost like a sob leaves his throat. “Fuck…”

We all stand there as the anger dissipates, Kade calms, and he inhales and exhales deeply.

Turning to me, he says, “Do you remember us getting a dog when were eight?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, though. “And we were supposed to take care of it together and train it together, and we’d pull him up into our treehouse with a bucket.” He holds my eyes for a second before going on. “And then you took Sith to sleep over at Dylan’s house one night and left him there when we went out of town the next week, and then he was bonded to you two, and you were the ones feeding him and playing with him and holding him.” He starts yelling. “It was our fucking dog, dude! Yours and mine!”

I stand there, speechless. I remember the dog, but I don’t remember Kade having a problem with…

“You didn’t tell me you—”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” he growls, cutting me off. “Force him to love me again?”

Dylan remains quiet, and I try to put myself in Kade’s shoes and imagine how that probably felt.

But he keeps going. “And the time we were camping out in the backyard,” he says, “but you told Dylan to stay and camp with us, without asking me, so instead of you and me, it’s you helping her bait her hook, and you helping her get wood for the fire, and you helping her make a fucking s’more…” His brow etches with pain. “And we were going to do laser tag, but we couldn’t because there were only two guns. We were earning patches, Hunter! It was supposed to be you and me!”

I open my mouth, but I can’t talk. My heart aches, remembering that night.

“And the time I was drunk,” he continues, tearing up again, “and I don’t even remember the girl I lost my virginity to, and I wanted to talk to you, because I was feeling…” He looks away, his jaw flexing so hard, because he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “I was kind of feeling like shit about it, but you two looked so happy, blowing up balloons for A.J.’s birthday, and I decided to keep my mouth shut because…”

My chin shakes. Because he didn’t trust me enough to be vulnerable with me.

I turn away, closing my eyes and letting the tears spill over. Goddamn.

He doesn’t continue, but I’m sure there a lot more instances—as many as the ones I remember where he was the villain in my story.

“So,” Dylan says quietly. “Everything—all the fighting—for the past ten years was because you…missed him?”

“I’m not…” Kade stammers. “I’m not…so good…about communication.”

“Noooo shit.” I turn around. “Wow. Jesus Christ, Kade.”

He couldn’t talk to me?

“I always knew you loved her,” he blurts out, almost begging, “so I was mean to her at first. I wanted it just to be us sometimes, all right? I was a fucking kid!”

All the times he was mean to her when we were little. Telling her to leave us alone and…

I clench my fists.

“And then later,” he goes on, “she turned out pretty cool, and I genuinely loved her—I mean, like a cousin-love.” He throws her a look. “I don’t want to fuck you.” He looks back at me. “So I just started doing shit to keep you guys apart for a little while. Just a little while.”

I glare. “To make me shrink—”

“Because I knew…” He just keeps going. “I knew you loved her, and whenever you finally…made love to her, it would be over for me. You’d be hers for the rest of your life.”

I hook the back of his neck and slam him down on the hood of my car. “You put us through all of that! What the hell?”

“It got out of hand, okay?” He doesn’t fight back or try to escape my hold. “Way out of hand! I was fucking pissed, and I just got angrier and angrier—”

“You mean your ego just couldn’t handle it!” I shout. “You fucked with her head. You deliberately confused her for years! That’s why you didn’t make your move while I was gone. You had what you wanted! Us apart.”

“I didn’t think you were going to fucking leave!”

I shove away from him, backing up. “So, you doubled-down instead of stopping me and talking to me?”

I mean, shit! All this time? He never wanted Dylan. He wanted…

I shake my head, running my hands through my hair.

He just wanted his brother back?

I bow my head, locking my fingers behind my neck and try to slow my breathing.

I can understand being a kid and not knowing how to express yourself, but was I supposed to read his damn mind? I was a kid too. I had no idea he was mad when I wanted to include Dylan. She was family and our age. Why wouldn’t I?

But yeah, that dog thing was shitty. I didn’t realize I was doing anything wrong, but I can see how that hurt.

The years just piled on, and after a while neither one of us could swallow our pride and be open with the other. Feeling so alone, I left, and he perpetuated the only interaction with me he knew how to do anymore, because, at least, he stayed important that way.

We stand there, and I have no idea what the next move is, but I’m not mad anymore. I love Dylan, and I really want my brother back.

“I love you guys,” Dylan whispers, exhaling hard as she backs away. “Please, go get drunk, make that tent, and have a good weekend.”

I watch her climb on her bike, fasten her helmet, and drive away, her taillights visible until she pulls onto the highway.

I drop down in front of my car, leaning back on the chrome bumper and hanging my forearms over my bent knees.

And Dylan’s gone from me again…

I half-suspect this was Kade’s plot, but I laugh to myself, because I don’t think he could’ve predicted any of this.

He moves to the driver’s side and disappears for a moment before he’s next to me, sinking down on the ground at my side.

He uncaps a flask and takes a swig. Tears slowly dry on his face.

He doesn’t look at me as he passes the alcohol.

I take it, swallowing a hefty mouthful. Our dad’s homemade Irish-style whiskey. I can tell, because the Irish make it with barley. He works hard to try to impress my mom’s very Irish father, to no avail.

The old man drinks the hell out of the whiskey, though.

I hand it back.

“Was your…” Kade broaches. “Was your first time okay?”

I smile a little, because I didn’t realize I wanted to share it with someone until he asked.

I nod, looking over at him. “Yeah, it was good. It was amazing.”

“She treated you right?” he asks softly.

My chest swells, remembering making love to her in the back of this car and knowing I’ll never sell the thing. Ever.

“Yeah,” I tell him.

We sit there for a minute, and I know there are things to talk about—first and foremost being if he’s going to be okay with me and Dylan together if I can win her again, because it’s too late to go back.

And then there’s school and his friends and coming home…

But before I can worry too much, he twists the cap back on the flask and looks over at me. “Why don’t you take me to a Weston party?”