27. Jorge
Jorge
Euphoria
I ’ll kill him.
I’ll fucking kill him.
I had an inkling it was someone I knew. I’d never voiced those thoughts, hoping I was wrong, but I knew. That kind of ominous sensation is hard to ignore, and I tried to do just that in hopes my avoidance would allow Oli more time to trust me. I see now how stupid I was. I don’t know how he can trust me at all.
Not that I was ever particularly close with Morgan back then, but I’d hung out with him. Hell, I was at the party Phoenix referenced. While I was getting shitfaced, probably hooking up with some girl, Oli was being hurt— raped. A houseful of drunk teenagers, blaring music, and drugs acted as a tomb he sealed himself in. And he’d gone back to it.
I can’t even begin to count how many times I asked him if he wanted to go with us to Michael’s house because I wanted him to feel included.
Oli’s scream will terrorize my mind forever. An exorcism of pain. A look inside his shielded, fragile heart. The scream he’s been holding in for too long. My empathy is turned all the way up. I feel Phoenix’s rage and Eli’s understanding, but most of all, I feel Oli’s pain as if it were my own.
“I want you to touch my waist.”
Bile rushes up my throat.
“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” Oli whispers into the silence sometime later. “I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”
“I believe you,” I tell him.
“I’m going to fucking rip his dick off,” Phoenix growls, finally pushing himself off the floor.
Eli looks Oli dead in the eyes. “What do you want to do? You can still report this.”
Oli shakes his head furiously. “No. I—no.”
We all watch him withdraw into himself. Squeezing his hand too tight, I ease up on it and swivel to stand before him. “Listen to me,” I say firmly, hesitantly reaching up to brush my fingers over his cheek.
His green eyes meet mine. “If you want vengeance, I will ruin his life for you. If you want to tell your family, I will hold your hand and be beside you. If you want to cry, I will hold you for however long it takes. But I promise you this, Oli, I will never ever not believe you.”
Phoenix shuffles forward. “I should’ve listened to you, Oli. I should’ve seen the signs, but I didn’t. That’s on me. ”
Oli takes a breath, easing me out of his way so he can face his brother head-on. “It’s not on you, Phoenix.”
“I can accept it.”
“No,” Oli growls, shaking. I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t know what he’s thinking. “This…grudge. This…hatred. It’s—”
Phoenix cuts him off. “I broke our promise. It’s taken me up until this fucking moment to realize it, but I did. No matter what. ”
“I broke our promise too,” Oli crumbles over his words. “The one I pretend I didn’t make. The one I don’t even acknowledge because I can’t blame you anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“ Brothers forever. That was what I said.”
I watch as they inch closer. Eli and I are just bystanders of this moment that will either rip them apart or glue them back together.
Oli continues, “I blame you, Phoenix. I always have. I blame you for not seeing. I blame you for being his friend. I blame you for putting me in danger whenever you brought me around. I blame you for not knowing. You have loved everyone more than you have loved me. You watched me almost die, and I woke up knowing you didn’t love me—that I was no good anymore. Tainted. Broken. An addict. ”
“I hated that you didn’t tell me about the drugs,” Phoenix admits. “That you didn’t trust me. I hated that you broke our brotherhood by choosing powders over blood. I hated that I told you everything and you told me nothing. Even though I didn’t know why, I knew you blamed me for something, and that fucking killed me not knowing what. But most of all, Oli, I hated that you were gone. I miss you so much. You have to know that.”
Phoenix places his hand on Oli’s shoulder, and he doesn’t tense. Instead, he seems to deflate.
“I miss you too,” he whispers. “I’ve only ever admitted that to my therapist.”
The waterworks start again with me as I cup my face, watching them spew their darkness, cleansing the old wounds.
“I’m so fucking mad at you, Oli,” Phoenix whimpers, squeezing his brother’s shoulder.
Oli does the same, placing his hand over Phoenix’s opposite shoulder. “Me too.”
“And Jorge? Seriously?”
“I love him,” he declares. “You don’t say a word to him about it. I did this, not him.”
Phoenix smirks then yanks Oli into his arms.
“Fuck,” I cry.
Eli sneaks over to my side while they hug for the first time in years. “So… I know Phoenix usually does this, but do you want a hug?” Eli asks awkwardly.
“Yes, I want a hug, you dick.” And I squeeze the life out of Phoenix’s little goth boyfriend.
P hoenix and I stare at each other.
We both were desperate to hit our vape pens, so we’re out front while Eli and Oli are in the house, putting in an order for dinner. I puff my pen while he puffs his. I don’t know where we stand anymore. It’s clear that he and Oli have a lot of past hurt to trudge through, but I lied to Phoenix. I kept his brother away from him. I wouldn’t be surprised if this day marks the end of our twenty-three, almost twenty-four-year-long friendship.
“Why?” he asks after a few beats.
I could say because Oli made me promise. It’s part of the truth. The real reason is so fucked up and selfish. I’m ashamed that I even feel this way, but since we all seem to be on the theme of honesty, I won’t be the odd man out.
“Because Oli needed me in a way you never did.”
He blinks, confusion riddling his features.
I take a breath and explain myself. “When my abuela died, I lost something crucial to my soul. The way she wanted me was something I never got from anyone. Not my parents, sister, girlfriends, or even you. She made me feel more special than God. Like I was the sun she orbited around. That kind of love is once in a lifetime, Phoenix. And I never thought I’d find it again, in any form.
“When I first reached out to Oli, I did it for you. I said, ‘Well, if anyone can make him happy again, it’d be Oli.’ I knew how much you missed him. I knew how devastated you were over breaking up with Eli. I wanted to help . I only ever want to help.”
“You could have just told me, though. We tell each other everything. Always have.”
I wince, knowing that’s not true. I never told him I drowned or am afraid of large bodies of water. I never told him that when my abuela died, I went to the pier and jumped off. “No one tells another person everything. Some secrets are meant just for yourself. I know that Oli wasn’t one of those secrets, but by the time I realized we should tell you, I was hooked. Full-blown addicted, Phoenix."
“And it’s not just because he needs me. Not anymore. When I’m with him, my mind is still. I’m not searching because I’ve found. ”
“I get it.” He nudges his boot at the grass next to my short walkway. “It still hurts, though.”
“I never wanted to hurt you. Every time I had to lie, it felt like I was dying.”
“You’re exceptionally good at it. So good that I’m wondering what else you’ve lied to me about.”
“Nothing,” I rush out, inching closer. “I swear to God. Nothing.”
“How can I believe that?” His eyes flick to mine.
“Because you know me. You know who I am. I’m not a liar.” My chin wobbles. “I’m not.”
“I just don’t know anymore.” He puts his vape away and rubs his forehead. “I’ll uh…see you at practice or whatever.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to wash your hands of me?” I throw mine up in the air. “I didn’t tell you I was dating your brother; it’s not like I killed someone and hid the body in your backyard!”
“I don’t give a shit that you two are screwing. That’s irrelevant.”
The urge to correct him that we aren’t screwing is strong, but I bite my tongue.
“You looked me in my eyes and pretended not to know anything, but you were seeing him the whole time. Laughing with him. Learning his pain and his past. You’ve held me while I cried over losing my brother. All the while, you kept him to yourself. I’m not washing my hands, Jorge. I’m fucking heartbroken. And I deserve time to process that my best friend is a goddamn liar.”
He shoulder-checks me and goes back into my house.
P hoenix and Eli took their food, once delivered, and left. Oli and Phoenix exchanged words and promised to talk soon, so that’s good. At least some hope can be felt for them. I, on the other hand, feel like a piece of me died. Like, I need a doctor to surgically remove the decaying chunk.
Sniffling into my slice of pizza, I nibble on it. Oli sits beside me, with no cushion barrier, and stares at the TV neither of us is watching.
Today fucking sucks, and I can’t help but shoulder the blame for the whole thing.
Oli professed that he loves me, and I don’t feel giddy.
I feel horrible.
Like a selfish fuck.
Never in my life have I single-handedly destroyed so much in so little time. I don’t know what to do about any of it either. Being a good person bites you in the ass sometimes, and I’m living proof of it. Everything I do comes from a place of kindness. I hate it when those I love hurt. And the real cherry on this shit sundae is the fact that I know who Oli’s rapist is, yet I can’t do a damn thing to enact my wrath.
I know where he works, know where he lives.
Michael is going to lose his shit when he finds out that his twin is a sick fuck. I swallow the bite in my mouth and shove my plate away from me. Bringing my knees to my chest, I rest my chin on the tops of them and feel like crying. No more tears are left in my ducts, so I just shut my eyes. Maybe I could sleep for three months, and when I wake up, everything will be better.
“He’ll come around,” Oli tells me softly. “I guess…he’s changed enough to understand.”
“I wouldn’t blame him if he never forgives me,” I grumble sadly.
“Jorge.”
I squint an eye open. “Yeah?”
“Come here.”
I uncurl myself and scoot into his awaiting arm. Once I’m sealed to his side, cheek flat against his big chest, he holds me tight. It feels wrong to seek comfort from him, knowing everything I know now. But my weak, miserable heart needs this—needs him. I smell his shirt, savoring that mystical aroma. He strokes up and down my arm, mouth pressed to the top of my head.
“Do you still want to date me?” Oli asks timidly.
“Of course.”
“Even…even after everything?”
I lift my head to look at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He swallows, brushing his thumb over my chin. “I’m not an easy person to…be with.”
“Nothing has ever felt as easy as this has with you, babe. I mean it.”
“What if that happens again? What if I get triggered and—”
I press my finger to his lips. “If you tell me what to do during those times, I can be better prepared. I got scared for you, Oli.”
“I haven’t had time to dissect what happened or what triggered my episode. That’s the most frustrating part—sometimes I never can tell. Sometimes it just is , and I have to ride it out.”
“Then I’ll ride it out, too, as long as I know you’ll be safe during.”
“There’s another thing,” he says and swallows again.
“Yeah?”
“About what I said to Phoenix…about you.”
I feel a flutter form in my belly for the first time in hours. Something small, timid, but growing larger by the second, especially when he cups my face and strokes the corner of my mouth. “I didn’t mean for it to come out so soon. That was meant for you, not him.”
“Which part,” I play coy just to give in to this feeling. The one only Oli gives me. A potent mixture of sweet and terrifying.
His eyes search mine, softening at the edges and hooding. The chest beneath me rises and falls faster, but not with panic. Wetting his lips and swiping his thumb over my bottom one, he watches me while my breath hitches. “That I love you. I have always loved you.”
I kiss his thumb instead of surging up to his lips.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he rasps, continuing to tease my lips in a way that sparks life to my libido. “But, I do. I’m honored to be your friend and desperate to be more.”
I whimper against his finger, wanting to climb him like a damn jungle gym and pepper him with kisses. “I want more, too, Oli.”
“Help me be brave?” he whispers.
I know what he’s asking for, but tonight is not the night. “Soon, beautiful. I promise.”
He leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, kitten.”
I bury my face into his chest and hope like hell I can be brave soon, too.