CHAPTER FIFTEEN
J eremy
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T he sweltering heat outside did nothing to improve Jeremy s mood, but at least he could breathe easier. A charter bus pulled up to the door as he pushed through it, dropping off the second-to-last team at the convention center. Northern Arizona, most likely; Jeremy couldn t think of any other teams close enough to travel in their banquet clothes. He lingered only long enough to hold the door for Jean, then headed down the length of the building as quickly as he could go.
Halfway down he finally stopped and sat on the curb. Jean immediately stole the cigarettes from him and chucked them to one side. Jeremy sighed and shifted to go after them, but Jean clapped both hands down on his shoulders to hold him still. Incredulity and disapproval put a harsh bite in his words when he insisted, You are not this stupid.
Are you sure? Jeremy asked.
Judging by the hard line of Jean s mouth, it wasn t the answer he expected or wanted. Jeremy was able to push him back and get up. Jeremy kept his distance as he lit up and studied the curling smoke so he could move downwind of Jean. He killed a third of the cigarette in one long drag, prayed the nicotine would do its job, and grimaced at the irritation in Jean s, Jeremy.
He d get an earful from Laila later; he didn t need one now. Thank you, he said, and took advantage of Jean s confused silence to clarify, for not hitting him. I know you wanted to, and I know you could have. Thank you for choosing restraint.
Jean made a cutting gesture in his peripheral vision. Let me fight him. I will make sure he never plays again. When Jeremy only shook his head, Jean promised, I will do it with no witnesses.
It d be his word against yours, Jeremy said, with a wan smile. They d take his without hesitation. Not because anyone honestly thinks he deserves the benefit of the doubt, but because it d be more satisfying to believe the Trojans finally cracked. They re getting bored of us, I think, he admitted as he flicked ash aside. They re quick to congratulate our good sportsmanship, but they crave the drama of a hard fall from grace.
As fiercely as you resist it, Jean said. I do not understand your obsession.
Jeremy had tried explaining it before. All of that was still true-the joy of a good game, the message his team hoped to send-but the same excuses and reasons wouldn t get him anywhere today. There was more to it and Jean knew it. Jeremy turned his hand this way and that, watching the cherry blur as he made his cigarette dance, and offered up a quiet, Redemption, perhaps.
It was enough to earn him a long stare, but Jean said nothing. Jeremy looked across the parking lot to where a crowd was slowly gathering. The last team was nearly here. Jeremy sighed regret and finished his cigarette as quickly as he could. He crumpled the butt against the curb and tucked it into his pocket to throw away on the way inside.
They were halfway to the door when Jean said, Dex. Dexter? Your friend.
Jeremy rocked to a startled stop. Cody wouldn t have called him my friend.
No, Jean agreed. Reporters said it on the first day of class. I do not know this name.
Dexter Rollins was the Bobcats captain for three years straight, Jeremy said, but he was a fifth-year my freshman year, so I only met him once. At the fall banquet, he confirmed when Jean glanced past him toward the building. That Dexter s name hadn t come up in Cody s tale was puzzling. What exactly did Cody tell you?
Jean hesitated before answering, Noah.
Jeremy s chest went tight in grief, but Jean didn t elaborate. Jeremy had never liked him more. He sucked in a slow breath, willing his heart down from its frenetic pace, and asked, What about the party?
Only that you went to one.
Temptation was a ravenous beast. He d said he wouldn t lie to Jean, but the truth was a many-tiered mess with so many irrelevant avenues. Omission wasn t dishonesty, but that didn t explain the heavy sickness chewing up his throat as he considered it. He didn t realize he d looked away until Jean caught hold of his chin and turned his head back.
Jean s warning was quiet: You promised.
I promised, Jeremy agreed, but this isn t the time to get into it. When Jean didn t let go of him, Jeremy motioned toward the approaching team and tried again. You said the details can t matter tonight, so we ll talk about it tomorrow. Okay? I ll get us some coffee and tell you anything you want to know.
Jean said nothing, but he let go. Jeremy got them back to the conference room only a few steps ahead of the last arrivals. As expected, Laila and Cat had switched seats in his absence. Jeremy refused to take it personally but passed Torres s cigarettes across the table.
It took only a few minutes for the thirteenth team to find their seats, and then Arizona s head coach stood up to offer introductions and greetings. A catering crew rolled carts up and down the rows as he talked, handing out plates. Jean surveyed his meal with obvious distrust until Cat leaned behind Jeremy to give him an okay. Jeremy didn t miss the curious look Torres sent between them, but the Wildcats captain didn t comment.
Either Connors got what he wanted with that brief meet-and-greet or someone filed a complaint with the organizers in Jeremy s absence; either way, the Bobcats stayed far away from him the remainder of the night. Jeremy was able to focus on the rest of the teams, and he did his best to introduce Jean to everyone he knew. As expected, Jean s proficiency in English appeared indirectly proportional to how personal the conversations got. Jeremy did his best to steer the conversation back on track every time it strayed to Jean s family or the Ravens.
It took half the night before he realized how much work the Trojans were putting in on Jean s behalf. Derek and Derrick brought over a gaggle of friends they d made over the years, excited to show off their infamous teammate, and Jeremy heard Tanner hyping him up at one of the freshmen s meet-and-greets. Ashton made sure to introduce his sister, a senior at Oregon State, and she flagged down several of her backliner teammates to inspect Jean up close. A couple players who d studied French in high school or were currently taking it sneaked over to practice with Jean, and Jean gave them his undivided attention.
Finding reasons to celebrate their teammates and opponents was the well-known Trojan way, but the sincerity of the team s unabashed enthusiasm and Jean s reserved demeanor did worlds for his image. Over the course of the night, conversations slowly shifted from prying curiosity and indelicate gossip toward cautious sympathy: on top of everything else that had gone wrong this summer, news had gotten around that USC was overrun with paparazzi. That they d had to bar the campus gates just a week into the school year was utterly ridiculous.
Despite the evening s awful start, Jeremy considered the banquet a rousing success. Jean was less enthused, judging by his sour, I will not speak to anyone else for a week, when they finally made it back to the hotel lobby that night.
Cat laughed and looped an arm through his. You did good! I think they like you.
I do not need them to.
Isn t it nice, though? Cat asked, trying and failing to drag Jean toward the elevators. After how cruel everyone was this spring and summer, isn t it nice to finally see those rumors get ignored in favor of the real you?
They did not meet the real me, since you will not let me tell them how irrelevant they are on the court.
Jean, treating other people with respect is just a part of life, Laila said. If you say they cannot know you when you are being polite, what does that say about us? Are we forever strangers to these teams, or do they just see the best parts of us that encourage them to be the best parts of themselves?
Jean waved her off, but Laila refused to give up. What good does ridiculing someone do? Giving someone advice that will improve their overall performance or keep them from repeating a mistake is helpful. Harassing someone for messing up when we all have off days gets us nowhere. Or will you tell me you can t pinpoint your mistakes without someone riding you?
It is part of the process.
Cat weighed that in silence before asking, Do you want to hit me? When I get outstepped at practice, when my passes get intercepted, if I can t stop my marks from taking a shot at goal, I mean. Do you want to break your racquet over my back?
Jean looked taken aback. No.
But don t you want me to improve?
Yes, but- Maybe he was imagining it: Cat s upturned face covered with bruises, blood drying at the corner of her mouth. He reached for her, testing her head for nonexistent lumps, and Jeremy s heart ached. Cat s gaze went soft, and she tugged Jean s hand around where she could kiss his palm. Jean finally said, Not you. Not like that.
So even you know it s not necessary, Laila said.
Jean looked away and said nothing. Rather than push him to admit it himself, Cat tried tugging him toward the elevators once more. Jean immediately dug in his heels and said, No. I will not ride that thing. I am going to take the stairs.
We ll meet you up there, Jeremy told the girls.
Laila caught hold of Cat s sleeve, and the girls exchanged a long look. Cat peeled her heels off and hooked the straps over her fingers. Which way is the stairwell? she asked. As soon as Jean gestured, she set off with a cheery, Race you to the top!
Jeremy started to follow, but Laila snagged his back pocket. To Jean she said, See you in a bit, before hauling Jeremy behind her toward the elevator. There was no chance of getting a car alone with a half-dozen teams sharing this hotel tonight, but they were the only two to get off on the eighth floor.
Despite stopping five times to let other athletes off, they beat Cat and Jean to the room. Laila sat on the edge of Jeremy s bed while he wrestled his tie loose. When he cast it aside, Laila held out her arms, and Jeremy stepped into her fierce embrace. Without twelve other teams to distract him or Jean to keep an eye on, it was inevitable he d slide back down memory lane. Jeremy tangled his fingers in Laila s dark hair and stared past her at the far wall.
I m glad I came, he said.
Are you? was Laila s quiet challenge.
He didn t have an easy answer for that, but the trill of his phone distracted him from miserable thoughts. Laila leaned back so he could dig it out of his pocket. He knew who it d be even before he opened his texts, and for a fleeting moment he was tempted to block Faser s number. He read the man s message twice through, weighing common sense against his threadbare nerves.
He made up his mind when the lock at the door popped undone, and Jeremy tapped out a quick response as Cat and Jean moved into the room. His only clean clothes were what he was due to wear tomorrow, so Jeremy peeled off his shirt and pulled on this morning s tank top. He feigned not to notice Laila s disapproving frown as he went in search of his shorts.
Not PJs? Cat asked as she flopped at Laila s side. I figured we d get room service and watch the Foxes game, or something.
I ll catch it later, Jeremy said. I m heading out for a bit.
Faser s next text came in before Cat could quiz him further, and she laughed at the familiar alert. Oh. Tell him we said hi.
Probably won t, Jeremy admitted. He grabbed his keycard from the nightstand on his way out. Jean s unblinking stare was a weight he refused to return, and he lingered at the door only long enough to ensure the lock caught. He bypassed the busy elevators in favor of the stairwell and hurried down to the ground floor. Faser was parked over at the convention center where there d be fewer prying eyes, and the passenger door was already unlocked.
The seat was laid back all the way so Jeremy could stay out of sight of any passersby, and Faser chucked a hat into Jeremy s lap before he even had the door closed. Jeremy tugged the ballcap low over his face and fumbled for his seatbelt.
Faser ran an appreciative hand up his thigh. Didn t think you d come. Glad you changed your mind.
So am I, Jeremy said, and if it wasn t entirely true, it at least sounded convincing. Let s get out of here.
Hell yeah, Faser said, and nearly brought the asphalt with them.
The last time they d hooked up was a home game in Los Angeles, so Jeremy wasn t sure where Faser s apartment was from here. At five minutes he figured they d gone far enough to be safe, and he tossed the hat into Faser s backseat. The other man didn t protest when Jeremy sat up, but he did finally draw his hand back. Ten minutes later they rolled into a dark complex of a half-dozen squat buildings.
Told my roommate to beat it, Faser said as he parked and killed the engine.
His place was on the first floor, three doors down on the left. Jeremy toed out of his shoes, earning an amused look from Faser as the man set off deeper into the apartment. Half of the walls were covered in movie posters, and the cloying scent of air freshener couldn t quite cover up the lingering smell of weed. If Faser s roommate really was gone, he d left very recently. Jeremy waited near the door while Faser scoped the place out.
Just us, Faser called from out of sight.
Jeremy followed his voice to a cramped kitchen. The other man was setting out a string of shot glasses. The top of his fridge was littered with booze bottles, and Faser pawed through them until he found the one he wanted. Jeremy put a warning hand to his shoulder and said, Easy. You ve got to drive me back later, you know.
Easy, Faser returned as he poured, careless and content. Take a taxi back, rich boy.
Jeremy could imagine how poorly that conversation with his parents would go, but that was none of Faser s business. He forced himself to let go and smile, and Faser set the bottle aside to kiss him. His Let s have some fun, was barely a murmur against Jeremy s lips, but Jeremy didn t need to hear the words when Faser s hand was shoved into the pocket on his shorts. His knuckles were an insistent weight against Jeremy s skin. Jeremy would have to figure it out later; for now, he took the offered shot glass and knocked it back.
Good, Faser said, as he started his drinks from the other end. Tell me about your Raven.
You really want to talk about Jean right now? Jeremy asked.
He got between you and Connors real quick, Faser said. If he noticed Jeremy stopped after his second shot, he didn t comment but went down the line with impressive speed. Just wondering how I m supposed to read into it. I heard what they were saying about him this spring, and we both know you re a shameless slut.
Says the man who invited me here, Jeremy said, cool enough that Faser laughed.
Can t make up my mind. Either he s as a big a whore as you are, or the Ravens are using your history to destroy his reputation. Who d question it once USC got involved, you know? They put up with your mess, so of course they d take on someone like him. He drained his last shot and chucked the glass to the counter. Shine a little light on the mystery. You fuck him yet?
Jeremy pulled Faser s hand free. I didn t come here to gossip about Jean. If that s all you want from me, I ll just leave.
Faser shook loose and cradled the back of his skull in a firm grip. The look he favored Jeremy with bordered on pitying. I don t think you will, he said as he ducked in for a kiss. His free hand went down the back of Jeremy s shorts to squeeze his ass, and he pulled Jeremy flush against him. Jeremy caught his wrist again in a crushing grip, and Faser rolled his eyes at that silent warning. Keep your secrets, spoilsport, but lose the clothes.
I m not going down on you on linoleum.
Faser didn t need to be told twice, and he hauled Jeremy after him down the hall. Alcohol made him clumsy and needy, but Jeremy could use that eagerness against him easily enough. He put Jean and Connors from mind and focused on the hungry heat of Faser s embrace.
Faser was snoring only minutes after Jeremy finally rolled away from him, and Jeremy contemplated the ceiling as he weighed his options. The easiest thing to do would be to borrow Faser s car and make it his problem; surely a teammate could take him back to the convention center tomorrow to retrieve it. But Faser drove a stick shift, and Jeremy wasn t entirely sure he wouldn t stall it out within a couple blocks. Walking back was out of the question, considering how long the drive had been. The only sensible solution was to call a taxi and deal with his parents disgust when they saw the charge hit his account.
He rolled off the bed and got dressed. His phone wasn t in his pockets anymore, but he found it where it d fallen out near the bedroom door. Jeremy stared down at the clock. It was a quarter to one, but his friends might still be awake. All of tomorrow s meetings were for the coaches: meet-and-greets with the referees, a panel with the ERC s representatives, and other such boring things. The Trojans had nowhere to be until it was time to leave Arizona, so they could stay up as late as they wanted tonight.
Jeremy prayed for a little luck and sent, Awake?
Laila answered immediately. Yes.
He passed his phone from one hand to the other, fighting a silent war, and finally texted, He s too drunk to drive me back tonight. He sent a final look at Faser s slack face before heading down the hall toward the kitchen. Laila s response came as he was ransacking Faser s fridge for water, and Jeremy put the bottle back in favor of hunting down mail. There was none by the door, and the junk mail in the recycle bin was too shredded to be helpful, but he finally found a pizza ad on the coffee table. He sent her Faser s address and sat down to wait.
It took almost half an hour, but finally Laila messaged him a summons. Jeremy couldn t lock the door behind himself, so he quietly hoped Faser s roommate would be back soon. Getting outside was easy enough, and he went straight to the taxi parked at the curb. Laila was waiting in the backseat. She said nothing when he got in, knowing better than to get into it when the driver could hear everything. Jeremy still risked a sheepish, Sorry, as he buckled up.
Back to Knight s Rest? the driver asked.
Yes, thank you, Laila said.
It was a quiet ride, and Jeremy listened for the total charge when they were dropped off. He wasn t sure he could free up enough cash to pay her back, but he d find a different workaround that would fly under his parents radar: covering her groceries, perhaps, or buying her a gift card for the local bookstore. He didn t have a pen to write the number down, but he texted it to her so he could find it again. Laila automatically checked her phone when it beeped at her, but she didn t comment.
The silence lasted only until they were on the elevator. At this hour, they had the car to themselves. She turned a serious look on him and said, Were you drinking?
Jeremy watched the numbers tick up above the door. Only a little. Two shots, he said when she continued to stare at him. I know my limits, Laila.
I don t think you do.
He flicked her a wounded look, but she didn t return it. Her attention was on his throat, and she closed the distance between them to press careful fingers to his neck. Even that faint pressure hurt. Jeremy remembered Faser s bruising grip as Jeremy teased him to madness. At the time it d been easy to ignore, as Faser s desperate, breathless swearing had been far more interesting than any discomfort. He fidgeted with his shirt, but a tank top couldn t save him from her heavy stare.
Laila was relentless. I don t like him, Jeremy. Don t see him again.
You don t like any of them, Jeremy muttered.
With good reason. Would it kill you to fuck someone who respects you?
The edge in her words warned him not to argue. Jeremy should let it go, but he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. Faser blames me for Jean s rumors. Said I m the reason the Ravens could say such vile things about him after he transferred. He tapped an agitated beat on his bicep and risked a look at her. That she didn t look surprised by this theory made all of it worse. Everyone can believe that he slept his way onto the lineup and the perfect Court because we re the ones who signed him. I set the precedent for what USC will stand by.
Jeremy, Laila said, but bit her tongue when the elevator slowed to a stop. The hall was empty when they stepped out, but Laila took a long look around before turning back to him. Her hands were gentle when she finally reached for him, and she tugged him close so she could press her forehead to his. The next time you go home with Faser I will take your balls off with my fingernail clippers. Understand?
Jeremy flinched. Jesus, Laila.
I said, do you understand?
Yes, yes, he hurried to say, and Laila looped her arm through his with a satisfied nod.
She knocked on his hotel room door, but Jeremy fished his keycard out of his pocket and swiped it over the reader. Cat was already halfway to the door when they stepped through, and she ground to a halt to stare at him. Tell me those are hickeys, she said, sharp and disbelieving. Jeremy motioned for her to keep it down even as Laila hurriedly closed the door behind them. What the fuck, Jeremy?
Jeremy waved her off. Don t worry about it. He glanced at Laila and gestured over his shoulder toward the bathroom. I m going to take a quick shower. Will you two still be here when I get out or are you ready-
The slap of a hand against wood nearly startled three years off his life, and Jeremy stared blankly at the arm barricading the bathroom doorway. He hadn t even heard Jean get up, but now the other man was standing only inches away from him. The look on Jean s face almost crushed the breath from Jeremy s lungs, and far too late he thought of bloody bites and Jean s fingernails digging lines into his own throat.
Give me a name, Jean said. I will kill him.
Babe, wait. Cat reached for Jean, and Jeremy moved without thinking. He almost wasn t fast enough, but somehow he caught Jean s arm halfway through its instinctive swing and dragged Jean toward him. Recognition set in a second too late, and Jean flicked a quick look at Cat.
She put her hands up, not in self-defense but in conciliation, and retreated out of his space. I m sorry. That s on me. I m sorry.
Jean, Jeremy tried, but Jean was slow to face him again. Jeremy let go of him before asking, Are you okay?
Incredulous anger returned in a heartbeat with a flat, Am I?
I m okay, Jeremy stressed. She s okay. Are you?
A name, Jean insisted.
No, Jeremy said, and ignored the scowl that refusal earned him. It s fine, Jean. This is not-this isn t the same as- He floundered in search of a delicate way to finish that statement. The best he managed was an insistent, He didn t mean to hurt me. He just had a bit too much to drink, so he got a bit heavy-handed. That s all it was. I would tell you if it was something to be worried about, I promise.
You promise.
Jeremy heard the accusation in that. If you won t trust me, trust Laila. She hates all my partners; she wouldn t protect them from you.
True, Laila started to say, but Jean s fierce, They are not your partners, was louder. Jeremy could only stare at him, and Jean said something vicious in French as he finally stepped back. He moved Cat out of his way with a quick hand to her shoulder and crossed the room like he could barely stand to be in Jeremy s space anymore. The silence that fell in the room was uncomfortable and tense, and finally Laila nudged Jeremy.
Shower, she said. Leave your phone with me; I m going to block his number.
Jeremy relinquished it to her before retreating into the bathroom at last. He stayed under the spray until his fingers were raisins and the steam made his lungs feel syrupy. Scrubbing dry in there was an exercise in failure, so he wound a towel around his waist before leaving.
Halfway to the beds he realized the girls were gone, and he wasn t sure whether to lament their absence. Jean was sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed, phone in his hands but gaze pointed across the room at nothing. He didn t move at Jeremy s approach, and he said nothing as Jeremy pulled on a pair of sweats. Only when Jeremy chucked his towel at the nearest corner did he finally stir.
Tell me about the cocaine.
Jeremy froze.
The warmth of the shower was immediately forgotten; Jeremy felt cold all over as his heart left cracks along his ribcage. Every second of silence that stretched between them felt heavier, and then Jean said, Torres said it at the table tonight. The candy, he said, as if Jeremy didn t remember the moment with agonizing clarity. Jean drew two lines in the air with his fingertip and looked Jeremy s way at last. He didn t name you, but he meant you. Didn t he?
Yes. It was so quiet Jeremy wasn t sure Jean heard, so he tried again. Yes.
Jean looked away. It was the answer he d known he would get, but it wasn t the one he wanted. Jeremy laced his fingers together and squeezed until he thought he d break his knuckles. It did nothing to help his nerves.
Jean said again, Tell me.
Jeremy looked at his bed, where someone had already pried the blankets up from the corners, and went to sit on Jean s. Jean had to shift to make room for him, and they settled down facing each other. Jeremy looked past him and watched the time change on the clock. One minute, two minutes; he still wasn t sure where to begin. The banquet was obvious, but the truth had older roots.
At three minutes, Jeremy said, The summer after Bryson graduated high school, he totaled his car. Cracked his skull in two places and shattered Annalise s hip.
Those long days watching over them at the hospital still haunted him. His siblings had been so pale and worn they were strangers to him. It had taken months of therapy to get them moving again. Neither had fully recovered: not from their physical injuries, not from what Mathilda had demanded from them in the aftermath.
They were both prescribed some pretty good pills during recovery, Jeremy said, and Bryson just... never stopped taking them. I m still not sure how he got ahold of them when his prescription ran out, since Mom and Warren both work at the hospital, but I never asked him. I didn t care, he added, forcing the words out as they tried to stick in his throat, because he always had a bottle or two that he was willing to sell me for cheap.
You were also injured?
No. Jeremy lifted one shoulder in a listless shrug when Jean fixed a piercing stare on him. But Bryson said the pills would make everything at home easier to handle, and I was desperate enough to believe him. They did and didn t. But then Christmas my senior year he came home with something better for me to try. Jean already knew what was coming, but that didn t make it any easier for Jeremy to say: Cocaine.
Jeremy picked idly at the sheets. I should have said no, but that year was... rough. Nan s death, Leo s betrayal, the ceaseless arguments about Exy and his sexuality, the daily traffic stops by cops wanting to push the Wilshire agenda on Warren s behalf-it all seemed so childish and self-centered compared to Jean s more brutal tragedies. Further proof that he was a soft-spined failure, as if his mother needed any more evidence to make her case against him. Jeremy crushed that line of thinking with everything he had and said, I just wanted something that would keep me together until summer practices started at USC. And it did, mostly.
Mostly, Jean echoed.
I made a lot of friends, Jeremy said. I lost a lot more. And the Trojans knew something wasn t quite right. It was a weak way to say they hadn t trusted him, and that the other freshmen had kept as far from him as possible. Rhemann had sat him down for a dozen careful lectures as he tried to sort out his recruit s mood swings and unpredictability. Shame had Jeremy swallowing back a rush of bile.
Jean said nothing. Jeremy could only stand the silence for so long before he had to press on. Colorado s vice-captain had spent a few years quietly ferreting out gay players in the western district, yeah? Every year they d meet up at the banquet and sneak away somewhere to let loose. I was recklessly indiscreet in high school, so he knew I was safe to invite. Said there d be drinks and weed and crackers, pick your poison kind of thing, so I brought enough coke to share. It was a big hit, Jeremy said, up until Noah-
Jeremy hugged his arms tight to his stomach, desperate to keep that black hole contained. Police came looking for me after they identified him. Took them a while to finally pinpoint where I d gone, but when they showed up... He raised his hands in a helpless what can you do and said, Only two of us were out of the closet back then; the other seven were cruising along as carefully as they could. But there we all were, drugged and drunk and tangled up with each other in this little hotel room. Officers called it in to dispatch as a faggot orgy before any of us really understood what was going on.
The night was a fractured mess, but parts of it were clear enough to cut. The dizzying rush of an overdue high, the harsh taste of scotch on Dexter s lips, the weight of too many hands looking for a little release and comfort. Equally sharp: skinning his knees on the rough carpet when a cop hauled him out of bed, the bruising pressure of a boot on his spine to keep him down, the pinch of handcuffs snapped too tight. The officers were so horrified by the debauchery they d stumbled upon they almost forgot to tell him about Noah.
Dexter was the obvious fall guy, since he was the only one old enough to buy the alcohol, but my parents knew he d bring me down with him. They cashed in every favor they could and spent a literal fortune trying to protect the Wilshire name. The alcohol and sex were already out there, courtesy of the first responders, but the drugs got swept under the rug. Dexter lost his captaincy and his prospects, but he didn t face charges, and my parents covered his remaining tuition in exchange for his silence.
He wasn t silent, Jean said. Connors knows. So does Torres.
Torres went to high school with me, so he knew when I started doing drugs, Jeremy said. Connors was at the party. Like most of the others, he d been closeted until then. Soon as word got out that he was getting drunk and shacking up with other men, his parents publicly disowned him and kicked him out of the house. Safe to say he still hates me for that.
Did you sleep with him?
Jeremy stared at him. No.
Then it is not your problem.
It is, Jeremy said. Jean, I-half of those guys never saw court time again, at least outside of practice. Fowler had to transfer down to a Class II school to get away from his team s relentless bullying. That s my fault. The police only found out about them because they were looking for me.
You are not the one who jumped.
It was blunt enough to crush Jeremy s lungs to his spine. He shifted to get up, needing to put space between them, but Jean s hand came down hard on his shoulder. Jean s, Did you know he would? was probably meant to be a gotcha, but Jeremy flinched so hard Jean recoiled from him. Jeremy put a hand over his chest, desperate to keep his heart from breaking out, and wished he d been smart enough to bring one of Faser s bottles back with him.
It came out barely louder than a whisper: We all knew.
That wasn t quite true, but maybe that was worse. Bryson stopped caring about any of them after his accident, and Annalise couldn t see Noah s pain past her own. But Joshua and Noah were Irish twins and the best of friends, and Joshua knew his brother was in trouble. He d begged Jeremy for help when every appeal to their mother failed. Jeremy tried, off and on for months, but neither of his parents wanted to hear it. Warren had no patience for Noah s bottomless sadness, and Mathilda only said, All boys are strange at that age. She d blamed him for setting such a poor example for his younger brothers.
She ll listen when she loses him , he d thought, angry and defeated and so, so tired.
He hadn t meant it, not really, but-
A rush of nausea left him dizzy and hot. I don t want to talk about Noah anymore.
Jean didn t push it. Jeremy closed his eyes and counted his breaths: four seconds in, seven seconds out, over and over until his roiling stomach finally calmed down. It did nothing for the loss gnawing through his chest, but at last he opened his eyes again.
He moved to get up, but Jean s hand on his knee warned him to wait. Tell me you are clean now.
I m clean.
Not by choice, at first, but that wasn t worth getting into. The guilt and heartbreak had almost destroyed him, and he d wanted nothing more than to spiral completely out of control until he couldn t feel anything. Mathilda refused to endure any further embarrassment on his behalf, however, and forced him into a rehab facility near the northern border of California. USC received a seven-digit donation from his share of the inheritance, and he d done his first five weeks of classes long-distance.
Look at me, Jean said, and Jeremy obediently dragged his stare to Jean s face. Jean s expression was inscrutable as he studied Jeremy, but his tone was firm: You are my partner. My success is your success; your failure is my failure. Do not ever backslide, Jeremy. I will not forgive you.
I can t, Jeremy said. When Jean appeared unimpressed by that immediate reassurance, Jeremy insisted, I walked away from my brother, Jean. I knew he wasn t okay, and I knew he needed me, but all I cared about was having fun and getting high. I left him behind, and I never saw him again. I d rather die than ever be that person again. Believe me.
You are you, Jean said, simple and unhesitating. I believe you.
It wasn t the first time he d declared unwavering faith in Jeremy s character, but to hear it after sharing such a miserable story took the last ice out of Jeremy s chest. A quiet Thank you, was sorely inadequate, but for now it would have to do. He waited to see if anything else was forthcoming, then glanced past Jean at the clock. It s getting late. Is there anything else you want to know, or are you ready to get some rest?
Jean pressed a thumb to the bruises on Jeremy s throat. His name.
I can t give you that, Jeremy said, scooting toward the edge of his bed. I told you it was an accident. He was just worked up and drunk.
I don t believe you. Cat has never bruised Laila like this.
Maybe Laila s not as good with her tongue.
It took him a moment to realize what he d said, and he and Jean were left staring at each other. Jeremy didn t trust himself to speak, but one of them had to break the silence. Luckily Jean found his voice first. Maybe that wasn t a crack in his voice; maybe it was just his accent coming on stronger than usual. Jeremy forgot about it when the words registered:
I will tell her you said that.
God, please don t, Jeremy said, flinging one of his pillows at Jean. She ll kill me.
Jean turned away from him. Unfortunate.
I m going to buy you decaf tomorrow.
Jean scoffed. No, you won t.
I ll think about it, Jeremy promised as he went to get the lights. He hit the nightstand on his way back to bed and grimaced at the shadows as he clambered onto the mattress. Getting comfortable was easy, but a waste of his time: Jeremy s thoughts were too tangled to let him rest, and he stared at the ceiling in silence until dawn.