Chapter 36 Naomi
Long and unforgiving hours stretch in the aftermath of the chaos at the school.
First, we’re approached by the deputies. Ty does all the talking. Then, we’re hustled over to the triage zone outside, where a paramedic looks us over. His verdict is that we’re physically fine, and we’re released.
Someone offers to grab a pair of slippers for me, but I don’t wait. I ask Ty to find out where his car is parked so we can head over to the hospital to check on my brother.
Once we get there, the sterile scent of the waiting room burns in my lungs, but not as much as the waiting itself. Not as much as not knowing if my Adri’s all right.
I'm wearing Ty's jacket, and my dress is wrinkled and torn. His feet are fine—he has his boots. I have nothing. Except him. The shoes are forgotten somewhere in that classroom. They didn’t matter when we were dismantling the barricade or rushing out into the hallway.
There’s a small cut on my right toe, but I’ve just been ignoring it. I grabbed a few Band-Aids from the paramedic earlier. I just haven’t had a chance to apply one.
I’m alternating between sitting and pacing, feeling a little helpless without my phone that I lost at the school.
Ty returns with coffee and a pair of pink fluffy slippers. "It's all they had," he says, pushing them onto my bare feet after I flop into a waiting room chair.
"Thanks."
He wraps his arm around me, pulls me close while I take small sips of the cheap hospital coffee. He’s checking his phone, and I glance at it too. "Is it all over the news?"
"Yeah." He nods. "Most stations and sites already picked it up. Did you want to talk to your mom again?"
"No." I shake my head. "She said she was on her way."
We continue sitting like this—quiet and hopeful.
A deputy approaches us to ask some more questions, but I’m not sure I can say anything that would make sense right now. He offers to speak again at a later time. Ty says that’s probably a better idea.
A little later, a familiar voice cuts through the noise of the room. "Oh my God, Naomi!"
I lift my gaze to the sound and see Sonia rushing over, her face ashen. She’s wearing a loose T-shirt, oversized pajama pants, and a pair of flip-flops. A male nurse is accompanying her.
I manage a small smile, and she offers a tight hug when she reaches us.
"No one would tell me anything when I heard the news," she speaks in a panicked voice, then shifts her attention to Ty. "Are you two okay?"
"We’re fine," I supply.
The male nurse stands back, watching us with curiosity.
"And your brother?" Sonia asks me.
"We're waiting to hear."
She turns to the nurse. "Thank you so much for your help."
"I’m glad you found your friends," he says politely. "Let me know if you need anything else."
Sonia nods. "Sure thing."
When the man is gone, I can’t help but comment, "He’s kinda cute."
"He definitely is," she agrees, then adds in a serious tone, "Let’s just worry about Adri first, all right?"
We wait some more, chatting about nothing just to pass time. Sonia’s gone to the cafeteria to get some snacks when the nurse finally tells us Adri is okay and can have visitors.
I ask Ty to wait outside and storm into my brother’s room, both happy and angry.
Adri’s sitting up in a hospital bed, alive. His shoulder is bandaged, his hair loose and wild, his face pale but alert.
"You idiot," I say, stopping short. "What were you thinking?" I don't know whether to hug him or punch him. Well, punching wouldn't be very nice of me now.
"I'm fine, Shrimp," he replies casually, like I don't have tears in my eyes. Like I didn't just watch my life crumble in front of me. Like nothing happened. "Don’t get all emotional on me."
"You scared me," I accuse, and I can see the truth on his face, the way he's trying to be strong for me, the way he won't admit how close it was.
"I've done it before," he says, wincing as he shifts to sit up straighter. "He wasn't going to kill me."
"How did you know?" I counter, softer now, letting some of my anger melt into relief.
"You said it yourself—he brought a weapon to his high school reunion.
There was something very wrong with him.
How could you be sure he was willing to listen to reason?
Besides, he did shoot at you." I motioned at his shoulder.
"You know what your problem is, baby sister? You need to learn how to let go of the things in the past." He gives me a tight smile. "You're stuck with me a little longer."
"You're not making any sense, Adri. What does it have to do with a fact you got hurt," I huff.
"And I'm not sure if I'm lucky or cursed to have a brother like you," I say, but I move to sit on a chair and gingerly reach for his hand.
Truth is, I'm afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him. "I'm mad at you."
"Guess I'll have to get used to that," he replies, rolling his eyes. "Oh wait, I already have."
Now I know he’s messing with me for sure. "How long do you have to stay?"
"Few more hours. Just to be safe. The slug barely touched me."
"Just a scratch, right?" I shake my head, not knowing whether to believe him.
He nods. "Told you it wasn't bad."
"Don’t do this again." I squeeze his hand, feeling the tremor in mine. "And what if—what if it had been? What if—"
"But it wasn't, Shrimp." He looks at me, his eyes too raw, too open. He's scared too. He simply won't say it.
"You shouldn't have done it."
"I knew what I was doing," he insists. "You forgot? I'm good at this stuff."
"I'm still mad," I repeat, softer this time. "Mad at you for more than tonight, Adri."
His expression shifts, a subtle tension settling across his face. He knows what I mean. I can see it in the way he suddenly avoids my gaze.
"Seventeen years, Adri. How could you?" I push, my voice breaking to a whisper. "How could you hit on my boyfriend?" I should be screaming. I should be furious. But all I feel is the small, shaky sadness of wasted time.
"Sis." He meets my eyes, a lifetime of regret in his. "I was a dumb, confused kid who was freaking out about his sexuality. And he wasn’t your boyfriend yet."
"You never tried again after he started seeing me?" I ask, a strange tenderness creeping into my question.
"No," he says, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You made sure of that." There’s a moment of silence, then he goes on, "I screwed up both your lives when I asked Ty to leave you behind. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret. It’s just…no matter how hard I try I can’t get my heart to settle, so I drown it. "
Something clicks into place. Something I never understood. Something I never saw. "It’s not PTSD, is it? You've been drinking because of me," I say, the words slow, deliberate.
He flinches.
"All this time, I thought it was—"
"You're right, Shrimp." He looks away again, his eyes fixed on some distant, painful memory. "That's why I do it. Why I—" His voice is thick, and he stops before he finishes the sentence.
I'm breathless, stunned by the realization. "You really think you ruined my life?"
"Didn't I? You said it earlier."
I see him in a way I never have before. My brother.
My family. Broken and ashamed. The boy he was and the man he's become, all of it tangled together, all of it catching up to him at once.
He's scared. He’s as scared as I am. He's afraid that this will never be okay.
Afraid that I'll hate him forever. Seventeen years of distance and regret are a canyon between us, but I see him, and I see the fragile hope that he can be forgiven.
I wipe my eyes, letting the tears fall. "You didn't know," I say, the words catching in my throat. "You didn't know it would be like this. And I obviously exaggerated a little because I was shocked."
His voice is rough and uneven. "No, I didn’t. I thought— I thought you’d be happy. I thought you’d never look back after leaving this stupid town."
"You could have told me, though."
He laughs, a sound that's not quite laughter. "How do you tell someone you did that to them? How do you tell your sister you kissed the boy she liked?"
"You just do," I say. "You don’t wait two decades."
"I didn't want to hurt you all over again."
I blink, a fresh wave of tears spilling down my cheeks. He's lived with this guilt for so long. He's lived with it like it's a part of him, like it's something he can't ever let go of. "Why didn't you just say something? Why did you let it get like this?"
"You know how I am." He shrugs, a humorless, bitter motion. "Too damn proud. Too damn stupid."
"And you thought you'd get away with it, huh?"
"I hoped."
I wipe my eyes. He doesn't know how to fix it, but he's trying. He's really trying. "I think we can start over," I say. "I think—" The words catch in my throat.
"Don't," he says. "Don't say that unless you mean it."
My answer is a broken sob, the sound of seventeen years, the sound of everything. "I do… But, Adri? It’s not Ty’s fault. Don’t hate him. He just did what you told him to do."
He takes a deep breath and studies my face for a few seconds. "Okay, Shrimp. I’ll give him a chance, and if he breaks your heart again, it won’t be because of me, so I’ll cut his balls off like I promised."
He reaches for me, careful of his shoulder. I fold into him, my arms around his neck, my heart full of too much to say. He holds me, his touch hesitant, unsure, as if I'm something he can't believe he's allowed to have.
We stay like that for a long time, the past slowly unspooling, the future tentatively finding its way in. I draw back to wipe my eyes again, and I know we’re okay. I know we’ll be okay.
The door opens, and I see them, a flood of faces and voices. Mom rushing in, worry written across her features. Ty’s parents behind her. And Ty.
Yes, we're going to be okay. I know it now with a certainty I’ve never had before.
Better late than never.