8. Misinterpretation Nation #2
BJ shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing. “Other than Kody getting his rocks off on some dirty bunny yesterday, not much.”
“Wait, what? When did that happen? I thought he was driving you back here to get glasses.” Maverick seems confused.
“He did. I guess he fit it in—quite literally—between dropping me off and whenever his next class was.” I try to come off as blasé, but this whole conversation makes me feel exposed.
“Hold the fuck on.” River’s eyes flare, and he sits up straighter. “Why were you in a car with Kody, and why am I just finding out about this now?”
“Uh, because I didn’t see you yesterday.” And even if I had, there’s no way I would have told my twin any of this—see his current reaction for details. “I broke my glasses and needed to come home to get my spares. He drove the car. I sat in the passenger seat.”
River’s eyebrows pull together into his customary angry-pensive expression. “Did he say anything?”
“Are you asking if we had a nice chat? A little stroll down memory lane, back to the days when I used to have regular meltdowns at school and he used to have to come save me?” Man, I am fired up tonight and not in the mood to deal with any more bullshit.
River blinks a bunch of times, his lips thinning. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a public panic attack. I’ve learned how to control the cyclical thoughts and physical breakdowns until I’m alone. It’s easier to fall apart when no one’s looking.
“You two haven’t seen each other for more than a couple of minutes in years. You must’ve talked about something,” Maverick presses, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
“It’s not grill-Lavender time,” I announce.
“I’ve had a day, and the last thing I need is the two of you getting on me about Kodiak, when you and Mav are the goddamn reason I needed a ride yesterday in the first place!
I wouldn’t have been in a damn rush if you hadn’t taken my car, and then I wouldn’t have broken my glasses and needed to go home and get new ones. ”
“Shit, calm down. It was just a couple of questions,” Maverick gripes.
“My car is being detailed, and I’m getting it back in the morning,” River offers.
“How nice for you.”
Mav cocks a brow. “You really are in a mood.”
“Yeah, well, I just came from a three-hour macroeconomics class, so I think I have a right to be.”
BJ makes a face, and River scrunches up his nose. “Why are you taking economics?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t think I was. I thought it was folklore, not a math course in disguise, and then I get there and they might as well be speaking a whole different language.”
“So go to the registrar’s in the morning and see if you can get it switched. I mean, it has to be some kind of mistake, right?” River has resumed playing Xbox, so he doesn’t even bother to look away from the TV as he speaks.
“I should’ve said screw it and pushed for living on campus.” I whirl around, done with this conversation.
“You’d hate the dorms. You’d have to share a bathroom,” Mav calls. “Shark week would be a nightmare!”
I fire the bird over my shoulder on the way out of the living room and make a stop in the kitchen for a box of Lucky Charms. I stomp up to the third floor and my loft in the attic.
Like every room in this house, it’s huge and spacious, but it has the added benefit of angled ceilings and skylights and a balcony that overlooks the backyard.
I close my door, put my earbuds in, and shove my hand into the box of cereal, picking through it for all the marshmallows. I derive an inexplicable amount of gratification from eating them all and then putting the box back for my brothers.
I consider texting Lovey and Lacey since we have a group chat, but it’s already ten thirty, and I have to be up early in the morning.
I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying not to let myself fall back into memories I don’t want.
I’m saved from myself by a knock at the door. I know it’s River because he raps twice, pauses for a second, and raps once more before repeating the sequence—like a heartbeat.
I sigh. Looks like I’m not getting out of a conversation that easily. “It’s open.” I lock it before I go to sleep every night.
The doorknob turns, and he pokes his head in.
He waits until I wave him over. River is tall, so he has to stay in the middle of the room to avoid hitting his head on the slanted ceilings.
He’s very much a hybrid of our parents. He has our dad’s dark hair, but our mom’s waviness.
His eyes are hazel, and he and I share the same mouth, but he has our dad’s nose.
Where Maverick is rugged, GQ modelesque, River is .
. . pretty. He’s obviously masculine, but his angles aren’t as severe.
Everything about his face is softer, which contradicts his personality.
And because he’s constantly scowling, he looks like he wants to murder the entire world, but he’d be pretty doing it.
River crosses the room and stands beside my bed, scrutinizing me. I scoot over and pat the empty space. He sits and stretches out, his massive body taking up more than half of my queen-sized mattress.
“No houseguests tonight?” I decide to break the heavy silence with humor.
“I have an early class, and practice tomorrow.”
“How responsible of you.” I tip the box of cereal in his direction.
“I’m good.”
I shove my hand in the box, fishing around for a marshmallow. They’re getting harder to find.
“You know it drives Mav insane when you put the box back and there are no marshmallows left, right?” River is clearly struggling to say what he wants to.
“Yup.” I produce a rainbow and pop it in my mouth.
River grabs my hand, and I drop the box, cereal spilling over my bed. He sits up in a rush as I curl my fingers into a fist and try to hide the crescent moons scored in my palm. But River is strong, and I’m no match for him, so he pries my fist open—gently—and sucks in a breath.
When he looks at me, his expression is tortured. “What happened, Lav?” He runs his callused fingers across my palm. The cuts aren’t deep, but they exist, and that’s enough.
“It’s nothing.” I pull my hand free.
He rolls to his side and props himself up on one elbow. “Why are you lying to me? You always lie to me about him. Why?”
Because we had something you’ll never understand. Because even though I hate him, I’ll always love him. Because he used to get me in a way I don’t think anyone ever will again. Because he could save me without smothering me. “It’s complicated.”
“I wish I’d known about the glasses situation. I would’ve come to get you.”
“I should’ve walked home—or done anything but get in the car with him. But that was the choice I made, and only I get to regret it.” I link my pinkie with his.
“I don’t like that he does this to you,” River says softly.
“I do this to myself.”
“Because of him.”
“It’s been a lot of years, River. It was a shock to my system.” That’s a partial lie.
River chews the inside of his cheek to the point that I wonder if he’s making it bleed.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you to come to school here and move in with me and Mav.
It was a mistake. My mistake. I thought it would be better ’cause, like, we’re all here, and I didn’t want you to have to stay back with Mom and Dad for another year.
But I feel like I’m making your life harder, not easier. It was selfish of me.”
“You didn’t force me to come here. It’s where I wanted to be.” That’s mostly the truth. I didn’t want to miss out on being where everyone else was.
His pinkie curls tight around mine. “I always wanted to keep you safe, Lav, but I kept fucking up. I couldn’t even keep you safe from Kody. Even now, I can’t.”
I squeeze his pinkie back. “I don’t want you to keep me safe from Kodiak. That’s my own cross to bear, not yours.”
He’s quiet for a long time before he finally exhales a long, slow breath. “I couldn’t keep you safe from a lot of things.”
After all the damage that’s been done over the years, I have to wonder which of us has suffered more.