Perfect Lie(6)

As I entered my room, I threw myself onto my bed, knocking my notebook to the floor. I buried my face in my sterile white blanket and let all my frustration pour from my eyes. For the first time, I wanted to be home, in my own room.

There was a knock on the open door, and I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “It’s open, you jackass.” I rolled over and looked at Brock through teary eyes. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets, and he looked like he was contemplating coming farther into the room or just leaving me alone. Unfortunately my stupid teenage hormones were begging for him to come closer.

“I’m not using you to right some wrong, Lie.” He stepped closer and looked at me to see if I was going to object. I put my chin on my hands and stared at the wall in front of me. “Laurie, my big sister, was two years into college. She was always a bubbly, over‐the‐top chick.” He laughed at the memory and stepped closer. “My father—he hated me. I was never fast enough, never got the right position on the football team. He loved to hunt. Didn’t matter what it was—he liked to kill. He was so proud of that gun collection of his. He used to beg me to go on trips with him, but my mom was always scared we’d end up killing each other because of how much we fought. But Laurie was perfect. She was a cheerleader and on the debate team. Man, she could argue.” He laughed again, and I rolled onto my side and looked up at him. He was next to my bed now, and his eyes looked glazed over.

“Well, it must be a family trait. You’re not so bad at arguing yourself,” I teased, and was thankful when he gave me a half smile. I patted the bed, and he nodded as he sat down and turned to face me.

“When she left for college, it was like she sucked all the happiness out of the house.”

I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, resting my back against the wall. “So what happened? You’re talking about her like she—”

“She died. Yeah…” He cleared his throat, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. I wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but I didn’t move. “She loved college. She was popular, just like in high school. She was always calling me from parties and telling me how much I was going to love it when I went there.”

“You planned to go to college?”

“I did. That was before.” Brock shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I worked my ass off to get good grades. You wouldn’t have believed it if you saw me.”

“What happened?”

“One night Laurie called me. She was at some frat house but was sober; she was the designated driver. I blew her off. I was pissed about a fight Dad and I had gotten into. She was the person I always talked to about Dad. No one else really knew what kind of guy he was, but I didn’t want to ruin her night. She said she’d call me in the morning to make sure I was OK.” His eyes met mine, and I wasn’t sure he was going to finish. I slid to the edge of the bed next to him, letting my legs dangle over the edge. “So the next day she didn’t call, and I tried her cell a million times, but she wasn’t answering.”

“You can tell me.” I placed my hand on his arm as he took a deep breath.

“She was in a car accident after she left the party. They said they tried to revive her, but she didn’t respond.”

“I’m so sorry, Brock.”

“They found drugs in her system. My sister barely ever had a wine cooler, let alone touched drugs. She wouldn’t have. Someone had to have slipped her something.”

“Did they try to find out who it might have been?”

He shook his head and looked off at the open door. “They didn’t believe us.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t.” He put his hand over mine and smiled sadly. “I don’t want to be your friend because I think it’ll somehow change my past. After Laurie died I stopped caring about anything, including myself. When I saw you sitting there looking so sad and alone, I realized you’d given up too. I saw it in those big brown eyes of yours.” He lifted his hand and ghosted the pad of his thumb under my eye and slipped it into my messy long hair. “For the first time in a long while, I cared about something. I wanted to make you smile.”

I grinned at his confession as his fingers tangled into my hair.

“I don’t want to fix you, Bird. I want you to fix me.”

I sucked in a ragged breath as his face slowly moved closer. His forehead pressed against mine as his strong arms wrapped around me, and he hugged me as if I were the last breath of air and he were struggling to keep his head above water. My arms slipped around his sides, and my eyes fell closed as his body shook and he cried silently into my neck. His hot tears slid over my collarbone as I ran my hands over the muscles of his back, trying to soothe him.