Weight of Silence(37)
When the heaves stopped and his stomach settled a bit, he flushed the toilet. He stood on shaky legs and rinsed out his mouth, then splashed some water on his face. God, he looked terrible. Pale and bony, with dark smudges under his eyes.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Honey? Are you all right?” Mom asked.
Jace was tired of people asking him if he was all right. He wasn’t all right, and he wanted to shout that from the goddamn rooftops, so everyone would know and quit asking. Instead, he flung open the door and gave his mother a pitiful look. “I think I ate something bad at lunch earlier,” he lied.
“Oh, Jace, come here.”
He let her fold him into her arms. The hug and unconditional love made his eyes sting more, and he forced those tears away. She led him down the hall to his room and tucked him into bed. Even fetched a basin in case he had to barf again, then promised to check on him later. He waved her off, grateful to have a reason to ditch the rest of dinner, but sorry he was lying to her again.
He dozed for a while and was jerked awake by a body bouncing heavily onto his bed.
“Food poisoning, really?” Rachel asked in a stage whisper. “That’s how you get out of dinner?”
“Fuck you.” He yanked the blanket up and over his head, in no mood to deal with his nosy sister.
“Fuck you too, bro.” She pulled the blanket back down. “Are you really sick?”
“Ask the toilet I barfed into earlier.”
She studied him a moment. “You do kind of look like death warmed over.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Everyone’s worried about you.”
“It’ll pass.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t the food at Mineo’s that got you sick, because you didn’t eat anything. You left your sandwich on the table.”
He had no energy to defend himself, so he grunted at her.
“Jace, what else have you eaten today besides the pot roast you upchucked?”
He tried for the blanket again, but she sat on the edge of it, keeping it flat against his ribs. He really didn’t need the interrogation, and he didn’t have the muscle control to make her get the hell out of his room. “I don’t remember,” he said.
“Liar.” She leaned down, short hair curtaining her face. “If I call Gavin and ask what he’s seen you eat this week, what will he say?” He didn’t answer. Her face soured. “I thought so.”
“Thought what?”
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“I am eating.”
“Nibbling on lettuce and guzzling water isn’t eating. How much weight have you lost?”
“Dunno.”
“You don’t know?” Her tone suggested she didn’t believe him.
“What am I, a chick on a diet? How the hell do I know how much weight I’ve lost?”
She pressed her lips tight, working something out that Jace didn’t care about. He wanted to sleep, and he wanted for this entire awful night to disappear. He wanted to be back in Gavin’s bed where things made sense.
“Jace, if you don’t let me help you, I’m going to have to tell Mom and Dad.”
He sat up so fast his head spun. Rachel grabbed his arm to keep him upright, and he clutched blindly at her hand while his eyesight refocused. “Tell them what?”
“They’ve noticed too, you know. You’re short-tempered, you don’t eat, you barely talk, and you move through this house like a ghost. Everyone’s worried.”
“I’m—”
“If you say you’re fine, I’ll punch you in the face, I swear to God.”
He blinked at her, finally seeing the stark fear in her eyes. He hadn’t seen her this terrified since May, when she’d shown him the home pregnancy test and collapsed in his arms. But she wasn’t scared for herself this time; she was scared for him. And he didn’t know how to tell her what was wrong—she’d only blame herself, and he’d rather die than hurt her like that. She’d been through enough.
“I’m dealing with it,” he said with more conviction than he felt.
“Why do you have to deal with it alone? I owe you so much.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Jace pulled her into a hug, hating himself for making his sister cry. She wanted so badly to help him, and in any other situation, he’d have let her. Not this. He didn’t know how to tell her that during her bout with depression early in the semester, she’d come very close to flunking her midterms. He didn’t know how to tell her that she’d passed her Sociology midterm because he bought a paper for her and turned it in with her name on it.
He didn’t know how to tell her that he’d been caught, and that he’d been blackmailed to keep them both out of trouble. Or that he was scared to go back to Temple, because the blackmail would start all over again.