Chapter 16. Ethan #2
Eventually, Miles sits up, wipes his face with the heel of his hand. "Sorry." His voice is so hoarse I want to grab water for him, but there's nothing but the sky.
"I told you it's okay. I'm glad you're feeling better." My heart's still throbbing from the adrenaline, but I try to act normal.
"I was... I wanted to... end it. Soon." He whispers it. My eyes start stinging. I won't cry. Not to make things worse, I won’t. But I want to. He's quiet, breathing it out. He stares at the horizon, then says, "Thanks for bringing me up here. I mean it." Calmer now. Controlled.
"Man..." I start, and it fucking sucks to open up.
I don't open up. Didn't. Until Liam. "Man, please don't kill yourself.
You mean the world to me. I know I don't say it.
I know I'm a mess and talking about this shit sucks.
But me, and Jack, and even Liam, and Harry…
we can't live without you. I know you think we can, but we can't. I know this alone isn’t a good reason to keep living. But please. I love you, bro."
I mean it. I'm not good at this. Being a friend, being soft. It makes my stomach burn, makes my throat stop working. But for Miles, I try. It sucks how my eyes are stinging with tears. I don’t want him to feel like this. I wish I could fix things for him.
We don't talk for a long time. I wonder if somewhere out there, a family is sitting down for pizza or fighting over the TV. I wonder if anyone's thinking of us.
Maybe Liam is.
The wind blows colder. Miles' teeth start chattering, but he doesn't complain.
"I won't do it," he says finally. "I just think about it. But I don't have it in me."
"I don't want you to want to do it either. I want you to want to live. Even if life is messy and horrible sometimes. It's still better than being dead."
"I'll try," he says quietly, and I know he's done speaking. We're quiet for at least ten more minutes.
The moon slides from behind a bank of clouds. Bright, oversized. I glance at Miles and realize he's staring at it, unblinking.
"Fun fact," he says. "Tonight's a waxing gibbous. Almost full. The next time it's this full, it'll be almost exactly four weeks from now."
"How do you know that?"
He shrugs. "I memorized the lunar cycle. I look at the moon every night." He wipes his eyes again. Not crying anymore, but close.
"We can come up here more often," I tell him. He shakes his head.
"Nah."
I know he doesn't want to get in trouble, and he doesn't want me in trouble either.
I don't know how long we stay. I don't want to leave. But eventually he stands and glances back at me. "Let's go." I know he feels better, and that's all I want.
I also know we've been up here over an hour. Way past bedtime. Giant chance we're fucked. I don't say anything. He knows too.
The climb down is a hundred times harder than the climb up. Gravity is an asshole. Every muscle in my arms screams as I lower myself, trying not to fall or break a bone. Miles barely needs help. He just jumps down, maybe hoping the hospital stay thing becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
We almost make it to our room. Almost.
Everything is silent and dark, which isn't good, it's terrible. They always do roll call before bed, going to each room. Sometimes they're lazy, don't count properly, just peek through the little window. I pray again that tonight is one of those times.
Then there's a flashlight.
"Stay right there." Night shift guard. Steve, or Stephen, I can never remember. Tall, bald, dark skin, dark eyes. Not happy. He keeps the light in our faces as he closes the gap. "It's past curfew. Why aren't you in your room?"
Miles stares at his feet. I open my mouth, try to think of a lie, but my stomach is burning, and I forget how to speak. This is on me. I took him up there. I didn't watch the clock.
That's when I spot a shadow. Small, instantly familiar. Liam. His hair sticking up in all directions, wearing the same sweatshirt from after dinner, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The doors are only really locked during Quiet Time, for safety reasons.
"It's my fault, sir. I was with them," he says before the guard can ask. "We were in the library. I took them there."
Steve-Stephen is unconvinced. He flicks the light between us. "Three of you, out after lights? What the hell were you really doing?"
Liam doesn't hesitate. "We lost track of time." He looks at me, then at Miles, and I know exactly what he's doing. He's going to own the whole thing. "I'm sorry, sir, please let us go this time," he adds. Best puppy eyes. His voice so smooth, so practiced, I almost believe it.
The guard gestures us forward. "Let's go. You're all going to explain this to Griff."
The three of us walk the hallway. Miles and Liam keep their eyes down. Liam knows if he looks at me, I'll glare at him. How dare he put himself at risk like that.
Griff's office door is slightly open, lights on. He's working late. Almost 10 PM. He should be heading home soon. He doesn't want to deal with our shit.
"What's this?" he asks.
"Caught these three out after curfew. They claim to have been in the library."
Griff folds his arms. "That so?"
"Yes, sir," Liam says, and looks Griff dead in the eye. "It's my fault. I said I needed help, and they followed me. Sometimes I get, like, claustrophobia if I'm stuck in a room too long. We lost track of time. It's all on me."
He delivers it like a script. Griff doesn't buy it for a second, but he lets the silence stretch, seeing who cracks first. Miles keeps his eyes on the floor. I glance at Liam, trying to signal that I'll take my share, but he shakes his head. Almost imperceptible. He wants this.
Griff grunts. "Library, huh?"
"Yes, sir. We went there instead of the rec room. Tests coming up, you know."
The guard looks at Griff, waiting for permission to call bullshit. Griff stares, deciding if it's worth torturing the truth out of us. But it's late, and he wants to go home. "I'll take it from here."
The guard leaves. Just the three of us and Griff. He stands there for a while. Then jerks his chin at the door. "Ethan, Miles. Go back to your room. I'll deal with you in the morning. You stay back, Marsal."
He always goes easier on me. I've been here long enough to become his pet.
People aren't wrong when they make fun of me for that.
It's Liam who gets mauled. The rookie who needs to learn.
Sometimes I think Griff gets off on the power trips, and I realize I really am his personal project. I'm just like him.
Neither of us hesitates. We file out, but I look back once. Just in time to see Griff close the door behind us, leaving Liam alone with him.
As soon as we round the corner, Miles lets out a breath. "He's going to get killed, isn't he?" he whispers.
"No," I say, though I'm not sure.
Miles nods, but he looks shaken. I'm pretty sure he's never had anyone take a fall for him before. We walk in silence back to the room.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. I shake my head.
"It's all on me. Don't be sorry," I tell him. He stares at me, then quickly nods. Something loosens in my chest. I don't want him to feel even worse.
Back in the room, Jack jumps to his feet. Harry looks at us with that smug face and a giant smirk.
"Who'd have thought perfect Ethan would get in trouble like that?" Harry teases. I roll my eyes. No energy for his shit today.
"What happened?" Jack asks. He's worried enough that I feel bad. Miles climbs back to his bed without a word, so it's on me.
"We needed some air. Didn't mean to be gone so long. Lost track of time. Got caught. I was stupid for not watching the clock," I say.
"Liam was crazy," Jack says. "Pacing the floor, watching the door. He saw the guard, saw you two, and didn't even think before going out there."
Harry laughs. "What a hero."
My skin prickles. I want to punch him. I want to tell him not to dare talk about Liam like that. I don't say anything.
I don't sleep. I lie on my back, hands folded over my stomach, trying not to think about what's happening to Liam.
I know the punishments. Every flavor. Extra work hours, creative ways of causing misery, solitary if they want to really break you.
The image of him in that office, standing at parade rest while Griff lectures him, makes me sick.
Especially knowing I never apologized after our fight.
Miles doesn't say a word. I know he feels like shit. I hope he doesn't regret opening up.
After what feels like an hour but is probably less, the door clicks open. Liam comes in.
I sit up. The relief is so intense I don't know what to do with myself.
He sits on his bunk without a word. Hair wet, dripping onto his shirt.
"What did he do?" I ask, trying to play it cool.
Liam shrugs, a little smile twitching. "Cold shower. Five minutes. Could've been worse."
That's not nothing. Cold shower is the worst, especially at this hour, especially when Griff stands there watching the timer, especially when they make you strip to your shorts. It's meant to humiliate, to break you to the bone. I can barely tolerate it.
"Did he say anything?"
"He said I should man up and not drag my friends into my personal problems." He snorts, like it was nothing. "Then he told me next time it's the hole. But he's been threatening me with that for a while, so I'll be fine."
No, you won't. Knowing Liam, he wouldn't last ten minutes in solitary.
I wish I could punch Griff for hurting him. Only I get to do that.
I want to say something harsh, something to make him understand he shouldn't have taken the fall. But he looks so small. Hair flat, wet, dark against his head. I can't. I want to hug him instead. But I stop myself.
I get an extra towel and toss it to him. He catches it, eyes bright for a second. "Thanks," he says, and rubs his head.
By midnight, Jack is dead to the world. Harry too. Miles' breathing is slow, steady, might be gone. But I know Liam is as awake as me.
I lose the battle with myself. I get up. His eyes are open. He watches me approach but doesn't say anything.
"Move over," I whisper, before my brain can talk me out of it.
He shifts toward the wall. I sit on the cold edge of his mattress. He sits up. There's nothing to say that isn't so embarrassing I'll puke, but I make myself try.
"Thank you," I say. "I should have watched the clock. And I'm sorry about before."
He looks up at me. I can't see his face properly, shadows and angles in the half-dark, but I can see the smile. "You don't have to."
"I know. But I'm saying it anyway. You're too good."
He grins. It makes my chest hurt. We sit in silence, and after a minute, he shifts so our knees touch. Could be an accident. I don't move away.
"I was scared you'd be mad," he says.
I shake my head. "I was livid. But not at you. Well, for a second, at you. But mostly at myself. I just don't like seeing you get hurt." The words come out wrong. Too much in them. But I can't take them back.
Liam looks at me in this soft, serious way. "You're not supposed to care about me," he says.
"Says who?" Sharper than I mean. "Why wouldn't I? I've cared about you since the first time I laid eyes on you."
"Because I'm a disaster. I ruin everything."
"That's not true." I'm angry that he'd think that.
He's so close. We're pressed together at the hip, and it isn't an accident anymore.
I should get up. I should. "You don't ruin things.
Don't say that ever again," I say, and then I reach up and brush his hair back from his face. Like a fucking idiot.
He lets me.
He's watching my lips. I notice. I can't breathe.
"Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at my mouth?" he whispers.
My body wants to. My brain screams: Don't fuck up. Don't ruin this.
Don't cross the line. Don't be like Shadow.
I don't move. He leans in the tiniest bit. I almost follow. I can't.
He laughs. "You're such a chicken," he says, but he's not mad. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. We're literally locked up here. Take your time." He settles back on the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, the biggest smile on his face.
I sit there for a minute. Then I go back to my own bed, heart hammering, and I don't even try to sleep.