25. Jorge
Jorge
Paralyzed
“ W here is he?” Phoenix asks as I open the front door.
“Under my bed,” I say with a wince. “He’s completely checked out. I don’t know what to do.”
Phoenix is pissed.
Telling him over the phone that his brother went into some trauma-induced childlike state of panic because I asked to touch him was not how this was supposed to go. I could hear the hurt in my best friend’s voice and feel the betrayal splitting us in two, but I needed help. For once, I’m not the hero. I’m the goddamn villain. I’ve never seen Oli like this before. I don’t have the tools to fix whatever I did. And it’s breaking my heart.
Just pulverizing it.
“Before I go in there,” he starts, pinning me with a hard glare, “I need to know what you did.”
“Well,” I swallow. “We…we were kissing and…”
He sucks in a breath. “Spit it out, Jorge,” he growls.
“I asked if I could touch him. We—he hasn’t let me touch him.”
“Why the fuck would you ask to touch him if he didn’t offer?” Phoenix demands, then shakes his head. “Forget it.”
He stalks down my hall, peers into my bedroom, and deflates. All his anger towards me falls off his shoulders as he sees Oli’s feet sticking out from under my bed. I tiptoe over, wanting to be there because what if I’m needed, but Phoenix shakes his head.
“Leave him be,” he grunts and shuts the door in my face.
I hadn’t even noticed that Eli was with Phoenix when I opened my front door. As I slide down the wall beside my room, hauling my knees to my chest, he walks over and does the same on the opposite wall. His dark blue eyes pin me with something like concern, but he doesn’t say anything. Palming my face, I feel the weight of a thousand tons crushing me into rubble. What have I done?
We were talking, flirting, kissing —it was all so good.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out what I did. What went wrong?
I replay the movie of our make-out session repeatedly in my brain. I didn’t touch his ears. I wasn’t even dry-humping him. I was waiting for permission, and I got impatient when it didn’t come.
It was me , wasn’t it? My neediness broke him. Every inch of me crawls with repulsion.
The mental movie keeps rolling, though. I relive being shoved off, relive him hyperventilating and shaking. I see his hand grip his throat like he was going to rip it out. And then…
“LEAVE ME ALONE, MORGAN!”
“Oh my god,” I gasp, the air vanishing from my house.
There is only one Morgan he could possibly be talking about. Michael’s twin. A surge of untethered rage consumes me whole as I ball my fists, my heart thundering against my rib cage. Eli watches my features twist into murderous anguish. His eyebrow arches, a silent invitation to clue him in, but I can’t speak. Can’t get past the watermelon-sized ball clogging my throat.
I’m transported back in time—back to high school. My senior year.
No one is going to show up. We are some no-name metal band playing out my damn garage. It took serious begging and bribing to get my mom to agree to it in the first place. And that’s only because my abuela threatened to disown her if she didn’t let me. I smirk, remembering it as I rip a piece of scotch tape off the roll and stick it to a flyer.
It’s probably silly to hang these up close to the gym, but how else would anyone see them if they were not plastered directly on their lockers? Some of the jocks are into metal—Morgan is. He’s not really my friend , but he’s around enough that I feel rude to call him an acquaintance. Plus, he’s Michael’s brother. And Michael is my friend.
Sighing, I keep putting up the flyers until I get to the double doors leading to the gym. It’s late, so no one should be in there right now. No coaches to yell at me for soliciting my band like some cable salesman. The only reason I’m here this late is because I got stuck with detention again after accidentally tripping Taylor’s bitch ass. He’s such a punk—always running his mouth and picking on people. So, yeah. I laid him out. What I hadn’t accounted for was the Dean standing right behind me, watching me do it.
Worth it.
Just as I’m about to creep into the gym to stick more flyers on the lockers inside, one of the doors bursts open. Oli, Phoenix’s little brother, stumbles out of it. His shirt is slightly askew as if he rushed to get it on. His buzzed scalp looks a little wet. Maybe he got in a late shower? There’s a clammy gauntness to his cheeks. Is he sick? Snapping his head up to mine, there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. I nod my head to him, smiling, but his green eyes are dull in their sockets.
It’s then I realize he’s sweaty. Not wet.
My mouth opens to say something, but he rushes past me.
He hurries down the hall, his backpack thrown over his shoulder, and I note the subtle limp in his stride. Huh. Must’ve pulled something during practice. I stand there stupidly, watching him disappear, and my stomach churns. He must be really sick. I hope he’s okay. Making a mental note to ask Phoenix later, I shrug it off and enter the gym.
“Jorge?” Eli whispers because I’m trembling.
The part of the memory I refuse to acknowledge was finding Morgan in that gym. He was happy, chatty, and fresh out of the shower—towel slung over his hips. I didn’t think anything of it. It didn’t even register that I was standing in the presence of a sexual fucking predator while I happily stuck flyers all over the football team's lockers while he egged me on.
“It was Morgan,” I snarl. “Morgan.”
Eli’s eyebrow raises. “Michael’s brother?”
“Yes,” I hiss, shoving to my feet.
I need to move. Need to do something. I can’t sit here like some punished dog while Oli needs me.
Hesitating only for a moment, I ignore the urge to knock and twist the handle to my room. When I open it, I see Oli and Phoenix sitting side by side in silence. The thing that stuns me, though, is how shutdown Oli appears. Like being beside his brother is physically painful. Phoenix grinds his jaw, his chimera eyes meeting mine. They reflect all his emotions. My betrayal, his fear and worry for Oli, and the confusion about why everything is happening.
Oli won’t look at me at all.
“Phoenix,” I croak and jerk my head.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers to Oli.
Oli says nothing.
Phoenix follows me out, gently shutting my door like that’ll block any sound. It won’t, so I urge him to come out front. Eli trails us, quietly watching. I purge when we all stand on my porch, my front door shut. God, do I let it all fly from my lips like a broken fire hydrant. I tell him about Oli and I, how it all started, why it continued, and that I’ve lied to him for over a year. I tell him it’s evolved, that I’m probably in love with Oli. That segues into how we’ve tried to be intimate, but his trauma keeps stopping it.
I let out every detail I feel like Phoenix should know, all the while hoping I’m not making a huge mistake. Oli told me I could tell him. He gave me permission.
When I finally stop speaking, out of breath and shaking so violently because the crucial piece of information I’m withholding has to come with sensitivity and care, Phoenix puffs his vape.
I know he’s been trying to quit since it could possibly trigger Eli.
Since he’s doing it, I pull mine out. I’m not anywhere near as addicted to it as Phoenix is, but I need something—anything to cope because I can’t beg to be held.
Phoenix is pissed . He’s hurt and devastated, and it’s all my fault.
“You knew someone raped my baby brother and didn’t tell me,” he starts, voice hard and wicked sharp. “Why didn’t you tell me, Jorge?”
I swallow hard, squeezing my vape so tightly I’m sure it’ll crack. “I only recently figured it out.”
“So? This whole time—” Phoenix’s face crumbles. The anger is replaced by despair. “You knew . You knew everything and left me out. Of everyone in this world, I never thought you’d do that to me.”
Eli rushes to Phoenix’s side, holding his hand tightly. “Don’t do this right now,” he pleads with Phoenix. “Oli needs you.”
My heart trembles and bleeds.
Wave after wave of realization swallows me whole. Not only have I betrayed my best friend in the entire world, but the man I have safely tucked in my heart pocket doesn’t need me. I’m…unwanted.
I take a fumbled step back, almost tripping over my guilt, my devastation.
Phoenix stares at me like he doesn’t know me—like I’m a stranger.
“I need to know why.”
“I—” The words lodge in my throat.
“Tell me why!” Phoenix yells, tears streaming down his cheeks.
My own have long since been staining my face, dribbling down my chin. I hold my arms, feeling small and all alone. Thunder booms inside me. The storm I always knew was coming is finally raining above my head. Eli whispers in Phoenix’s ear, rubbing his chest and nuzzling his weeping lover. Behind us, my front door swings open with a loud bang. We all turn our attention to the door. Oli looks panicked, eyes wide, fists clenched at his sides.
“It’s not his fault,” he rushes out, stomping down my porch steps and standing in front of me.
I cup my mouth to hold in the sob. “I made him promise,” Oli defends me, and I cry harder.
Phoenix ignores me. I’m no longer here. “Why didn’t you tell me, Oli? I have been waiting for you. You could have come to me with anything.”
“I did,” he says so lowly I almost don’t hear it over my cries.
“No, you didn’t. I never knew. I—”
“I did come to you.” Oli slashes his hand through the air. “I begged you to talk to me, and you didn’t.”
Phoenix’s mouth gapes. “When? When?!”
“Eight years ago!” Oli screams. “I told you to your face I needed to tell you something important!”
Blinking through his tears, Phoenix shakes his head. “Rosie’s funeral? Oli, I was fucking grieving!”
“So was I! Grieving the death of my goddamn soul!”
I need to stop this, make it better, help, and save them from their anger. “Let’s go inside, please. We can take five and revisit once we calm down,” I tell them, but the two brothers refuse.
Talking over me, Phoenix steps into Oli’s bubble. “I have given you endless opportunities to talk to me. Endless. You’ve ignored me for over a year, Oli. How is that fair?”
“Now you know how it fucking feels,” he growls, trembling. “Hoping for a lifeline that never fucking comes.”
“You guys, please ,” I beg them.
Eli takes my side. “He’s right. This isn’t good, baby. Let’s just…stop for a bit.”
Phoenix looks down at Eli and something silent and intimate passes between them. Taking a breath, Phoenix nods. “Okay. Shit.” He wipes his eyes, steeling his spine.
“Oli,” I whisper, needing him to look at me. To validate that I haven’t lost him.
Oli crosses his arms, shoulders hunched up by his ears. “I need to go.”
“Please don’t,” I beg, while Phoenix says, “You don’t need to go.”
Finally, looking at me, Oli’s eyes are vacant of any light. The green of his irises looks faded and grey. “If I stay, I will hurt all of you. Especially you. I’m not okay, Jorge. I—”
“You don’t have to be okay. Just don’t go. Stay with us. Please. ”
Oli grinds his jaw before nodding once, then he goes back inside, leaving the three of us behind. I sneak a glance at Phoenix. “Fuck you, Jorge,” he rasps, raw and aching, then follows his brother.
My jaw trembles as a new rush of heartbreak slams into me.
With leaden feet, I am the last to go into my house. Slowly shutting the door, I lean against it. Phoenix and Eli are standing awkwardly in my living room, and Oli is in the kitchen, eyes downcast.
The air is so thick with unresolved tension that I struggle to breathe. If anything can come out of this, I hope it’s the conversation that’s needed to happen for almost a decade.
I hope Oli can listen to Phoenix and Phoenix can understand Oli.
I hope they forgive each other, even if they can’t forgive me.