Secret
Page 67
He shook his head. “They didn’t. We made it, but they were right there. I could feel the rocks overhead were loose, but I thought we were okay.”
He stopped and took a breath. Nick studied him. “Mike—
you don’t have to tell me this.”
“It’s all right. She—she went back to them. We were there in the water, near the wall, facing off. There were six of them, and Emily was a tiny girl. I think—I think she thought they’d go away and leave me alone if she went with them. She swam toward them before I could stop her, going to Tyler. I remember him looking at me, all victorious, like she’d run from me. I know that wasn’t it. She was trying to protect me.”
He went quiet for so long that Nick wasn’t sure he was going to keep talking.
“So what happened?”
Michael glanced up. “She never got a chance to say anything.
The rocks fell. I tried to stop it, but I wasn’t strong enough—or maybe I just wasn’t fast enough. They hit her and two of the other kids. I went down to get her, and came up with one of them. Same thing again. By the third time I went under, I only found her body. I knew it looked like I’d killed her.” He paused.
“I ran home. You remember.”
Nick did remember. “Wow.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
The waitress returned with a glass and set it in front of Michael before rushing off again.
Nick had no idea where she was going so fast. The restaurant was deserted. It was barely four. Maybe she’d picked up on the tension.
“Tyler blames me,” Michael said. “I don’t fight him, because I get it. I blame me, too.” His eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him beat the crap out of you guys. Seriously, Nick. What’s going on with Tyler? Why did you want to know about Emily?”
Nick clasped his hands under the table and shook his head.
He couldn’t talk about Tyler without talking about all of it.
“Quinn asked me,” he offered. “I didn’t know all the details.”
“Oh, right. Quinn. Your girlfriend.”
Nick couldn’t figure out the note in his voice. Talking didn’t seem safe now. He took a sip of his soda.
Had Michael heard what Tyler said? Maybe Chris had said something? Hunter?
Michael leaned in. “I wish you’d talk to me, Nick.” He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I’m not going to judge you.”
Nick’s eyes snapped to his. His heart pulsed against his rib cage. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to go through this alone.”
He knew. He had to know. How did he know? Nick rubbed his hands over his face, worried his dinner might make a reappearance if he couldn’t calm down. The restaurant simultane-ously felt too cold and too hot.
The waitress came by the table to remove their plates, then left a tiny folder with the check.
Michael didn’t reach for it. “Look,” he said quietly, “I’m not going to say I know what it’s like to be in your position.”
“Lucky you.”
“You have a choice, Nick, about—”
“You think there’s a choice here?” Nick almost couldn’t speak through the sudden rage in his throat. “You think I would choose this?”
“Calm down. I’m trying to talk to you.”
Nick could barely keep his voice level. He’d been ready for anger and disappointment, but he hadn’t expected closed-mindedness. He shoved out of the booth. “Fuck you, Michael.
I don’t want to talk to you.”
Michael grabbed his wrist. His voice was low and equally angry. “Damn it, Nick, grow up. There’s a time limit here. If Quinn is pregnant, you need to get your shit together and talk to someone.”
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Nick turned around, his eyes wide. “You think Quinn is pregnant?”
Michael stared back at him. “She’s not?”
“No. She’s not.” Nick sat back down.
Michael blew out a long breath. “Thank god. That—I just—
wow.”
“Crisis averted, right?” Nick could barely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Of course Michael hadn’t guessed right.
“Something like that.” Michael pulled a credit card out of his wallet and slid it into the folder.
Nick couldn’t stop the disappointment tightening his chest.
As much as he’d hated thinking Michael would be such an idiot as to believe sexuality was a choice, there’d been a measure of relief in not having to tell him.
Now they were back to square one. And they were leaving. In half an hour, he’d be at home, feeling more alone than ever.
The waitress took the leather folder and zipped away.
And Michael just seemed relieved. Quinn wasn’t pregnant, nothing else could be wrong. Reliable Nick always had a handle on everything, and wasn’t an unplanned pregnancy like the worst thing he could possibly face?
Nick didn’t want to look at his brother anymore. Being wrong wasn’t Michael’s fault—but it felt like it. “Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Actually, it was Hannah’s guess.”
“Hmm.”
Michael centered on him. “It wouldn’t have been a bad thing.
I just—I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t tell me.”
He stopped and took a breath. Nick studied him. “Mike—
you don’t have to tell me this.”
“It’s all right. She—she went back to them. We were there in the water, near the wall, facing off. There were six of them, and Emily was a tiny girl. I think—I think she thought they’d go away and leave me alone if she went with them. She swam toward them before I could stop her, going to Tyler. I remember him looking at me, all victorious, like she’d run from me. I know that wasn’t it. She was trying to protect me.”
He went quiet for so long that Nick wasn’t sure he was going to keep talking.
“So what happened?”
Michael glanced up. “She never got a chance to say anything.
The rocks fell. I tried to stop it, but I wasn’t strong enough—or maybe I just wasn’t fast enough. They hit her and two of the other kids. I went down to get her, and came up with one of them. Same thing again. By the third time I went under, I only found her body. I knew it looked like I’d killed her.” He paused.
“I ran home. You remember.”
Nick did remember. “Wow.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
The waitress returned with a glass and set it in front of Michael before rushing off again.
Nick had no idea where she was going so fast. The restaurant was deserted. It was barely four. Maybe she’d picked up on the tension.
“Tyler blames me,” Michael said. “I don’t fight him, because I get it. I blame me, too.” His eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him beat the crap out of you guys. Seriously, Nick. What’s going on with Tyler? Why did you want to know about Emily?”
Nick clasped his hands under the table and shook his head.
He couldn’t talk about Tyler without talking about all of it.
“Quinn asked me,” he offered. “I didn’t know all the details.”
“Oh, right. Quinn. Your girlfriend.”
Nick couldn’t figure out the note in his voice. Talking didn’t seem safe now. He took a sip of his soda.
Had Michael heard what Tyler said? Maybe Chris had said something? Hunter?
Michael leaned in. “I wish you’d talk to me, Nick.” He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I’m not going to judge you.”
Nick’s eyes snapped to his. His heart pulsed against his rib cage. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to go through this alone.”
He knew. He had to know. How did he know? Nick rubbed his hands over his face, worried his dinner might make a reappearance if he couldn’t calm down. The restaurant simultane-ously felt too cold and too hot.
The waitress came by the table to remove their plates, then left a tiny folder with the check.
Michael didn’t reach for it. “Look,” he said quietly, “I’m not going to say I know what it’s like to be in your position.”
“Lucky you.”
“You have a choice, Nick, about—”
“You think there’s a choice here?” Nick almost couldn’t speak through the sudden rage in his throat. “You think I would choose this?”
“Calm down. I’m trying to talk to you.”
Nick could barely keep his voice level. He’d been ready for anger and disappointment, but he hadn’t expected closed-mindedness. He shoved out of the booth. “Fuck you, Michael.
I don’t want to talk to you.”
Michael grabbed his wrist. His voice was low and equally angry. “Damn it, Nick, grow up. There’s a time limit here. If Quinn is pregnant, you need to get your shit together and talk to someone.”
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Nick turned around, his eyes wide. “You think Quinn is pregnant?”
Michael stared back at him. “She’s not?”
“No. She’s not.” Nick sat back down.
Michael blew out a long breath. “Thank god. That—I just—
wow.”
“Crisis averted, right?” Nick could barely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Of course Michael hadn’t guessed right.
“Something like that.” Michael pulled a credit card out of his wallet and slid it into the folder.
Nick couldn’t stop the disappointment tightening his chest.
As much as he’d hated thinking Michael would be such an idiot as to believe sexuality was a choice, there’d been a measure of relief in not having to tell him.
Now they were back to square one. And they were leaving. In half an hour, he’d be at home, feeling more alone than ever.
The waitress took the leather folder and zipped away.
And Michael just seemed relieved. Quinn wasn’t pregnant, nothing else could be wrong. Reliable Nick always had a handle on everything, and wasn’t an unplanned pregnancy like the worst thing he could possibly face?
Nick didn’t want to look at his brother anymore. Being wrong wasn’t Michael’s fault—but it felt like it. “Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Actually, it was Hannah’s guess.”
“Hmm.”
Michael centered on him. “It wouldn’t have been a bad thing.
I just—I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t tell me.”
