22. Hangover
TWENTY-TWO
Avery woke curledon her side in a tight ball, nearly numb from the neck down. One of Justin’s sweatshirts was draped over her bare legs. As she forced some feeling into her limbs, she bumped something.
Isaac lay behind her, his body curved around hers, not touching—the barrier between Avery and her sick, snoring brother on his bed. His jacket was folded into a makeshift pillow under Avery’s stiff neck.
She moved gingerly, prying her right leg off the braided rug and grimacing at the deep cross-hatch it imprinted down her right thigh and calf. Her boots and purse were placed neatly under the desk where the trash can usually sat. It was next to Justin’s pillow.
Pursing her dry, cracked lips, she snuck out the door and down to the kitchen. “Benny,” she croaked when she saw her brother’s roommate rustling in the refrigerator. “Grab me a water.”
He eyed her with concern as he handed her the bottle. “I didn’t know you stayed.”
“I didn’t know I stayed either, until about three minutes ago.” She drank a third of the bottle before pausing for a breath. “Isaac’s up there. He and Justin are both asleep.”
Without a word, Benny pulled his hoodie off and handed it to her, clearing his throat as he nodded at the twisted neckline of her dress dipping dangerously low.
“Thanks,” she whispered. She pulled it over her head and snuggled into its warmth.
“Are you all right? Do you need a ride home?”
“I’m okay. I shouldn’t just leave them. Justin’s got to have the headache to end all headaches, and I can’t imagine Isaac feels too great either.” She scanned the kitchen and living room for listening ears, then noticed the clock. Six-fifteen a.m. on Sunday. Of course Benny was the only one up. The first rotation wouldn’t hit the weight room until nine, with Cam.
“Do you know what happened to Mindy last night?” she asked. “She came with me out to the bonfire when all that happened, and I don’t know where she went. Cam took me and Isaac up to Justin’s room when he got sick, and she wasn’t there.”
“I don’t know. She stayed out there while you two were going at it, but I didn’t see her after.”
“Great.” Avery pushed herself up on the counter. “Another mess.”
“Yeah, your brother’s got some work to do after that scene. I’m surprised you stuck around.”
“He asked for me. Of course I stayed.”
“I know he and Fields are tight, but I’m kind of in awe he stayed. Probably more to help you out than anything, I guess.”
She bristled. “I don’t need his help. And he stayed for Justin, not for me.”
“Avery.” Benny hopped up on the counter next to her. “You shouldn’t let this mess with your brother come between you and Isaac. Justin will come around. You can help him cope without letting him ruin things for you.”
“There’s nothing to ruin with Isaac. We’re friends. Justin was pushing us to get together, but after last night with him yelling at Isaac like he was the other Isaac, that feels especially icky.”
“Yuck. Gotcha.”
“I appreciate your concern, unofficial big brother.”
“Yeesh, I’ve known Justin since he was a freshman, and he was adamant he wouldn’t set anyone up with you. Now you’ve got me wondering if he has a roster somewhere.”
She stuck out her tongue. “I’m sure you’re not on it.”
Benny flexed and kissed a bicep. “I’ll make a large bet that any of us who could beat him up are not on it.”
“Do you know what time he has to be at the fitness center?”
He consulted a printout on the refrigerator. “Linebackers at ten. Isaac can help drag him there. I’ll be in at nine.”
“I don’t suppose he can call in sick. He’s still green.”
“You don’t call in sick for weights during the season. You call in dead.”
Wrapped in Benny’s hoodie, Avery nudged the door open and snuck back into the room. She placed one bottle of water on Justin’s nightstand and another next to Isaac’s head, then curled in her brother’s big desk chair to wait.
She hardly remembered anything after walking away from Cam. He was light, and everything after was a dark, disgusting mess in the shadows. The rancid stench of tequila and acid, the throat-scraping retching as she held Justin’s shoulders steady, the grateful mumbles when she patted a cool towel on his forehead—how long it all went on was anyone’s guess. Hours, maybe—rotating roles with Isaac, who didn’t flinch even when he looked ready to vomit himself.
Justin’s roommates ensured they had a steady stash of cleaning supplies.
When they were convinced he had nothing left in his stomach to lose, Avery and Isaac helped him to his room, where one friend kindly left two liters of sports drinks and a jug of antacid. Justin drank both sports drinks and about half of the antacid, and fell asleep.
How she came to be folded on the floor under Justin’s sweatshirt, she could only wonder. She must have either fallen asleep or passed out, and Isaac covered her, then made his jacket her pillow.
Isaac.
What happened? What was that?
She yanked Benny’s hood over her face and pulled the strings tight to hide from Isaac’s face. Even in sleep, his jaw carried the tension of a man in fear of having done something wrong. She wanted to run from everything he said and hinted, and if Justin hadn’t asked for her, she might have done just that. She might have run back to campus or out into the fields of drying corn behind the house—anywhere she wouldn’t have to imagine every laugh and cozy moment meant something different to him than they meant to her. They were supposed to be friends who understood each other and gave Justin hell like naughty children, not near-adults with messy fears and feelings.
She peeked at her sleeping brother. Justin made Isaac Fields a scapegoat the night before, but all he wanted to do was make him into a younger version of himself, so he could do Isaac Whitman’s job and take care of his little brother and sister. He wanted Isaac Fields to be who Justin Whitman used to be, carefree and cheesy and funny, affectionate and playful with Avery, while their older brother was a god on earth.
Avery recognized it right away and said Isaac felt like a brother. He said she felt like a sister. It all felt so harmless then, like more puzzle pieces clicking together as she settled into a new life. With all the clarity of bleary eyes, shaky hands, and three hours of sleep, the truth of the world Justin wanted to re-create weighed on her.
She should have told Isaac to run when he had the chance. Leave the guy who calls you brother and fills your head with ideas about loving his sister. Leave the sister, too, for abusing your friendship. Bail on what’s left of a family: these broken siblings who fully expect you to leave, because underneath his pain and her perseverance, they still don’t believe anyone will stay.
Her toes twitched, and she groped blindly under the desk for her boots. She didn’t want to talk to either of them, or anybody. Justin had enough on his plate if he wanted to clear the air with Mindy and Isaac. Avery would come back when he called. She never leave him because the weight of her bones wouldn’t let her, but Isaac should have a choice before they dragged him down, too.
When they were younger, her brothers buried Avery in a pile of their pads and gear to show her how heavy it was, as an excuse for their dramatic complaints after practice. The burden of that protective brotherhood suddenly lay on her chest again, shortening her breaths into gasps instead of giggles, and she couldn’t stay in the cramped room another minute. She snagged her purse from the floor and left the door open a crack so she didn’t wake them.