“We’ll head back.” He leaned down. “Get on.”
I rode on his back the rest of the way. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and turned my head to watch the forest go by above me. A surreal effect, it felt like the world had been flipped. I floated, weightless, nothing more than ether pulled into a formless journey. The dark branches of the trees swept us along, long, shadowy arms raking against our bodies, propelling us forward. That flutter of fear riffled through me again. I squeezed my eyes shut.
I focused on the rhythmic sway of my brother’s body as he carried me.
I focused on the whispering of the trees.
Wolves and bombs, the trees said, and my stomach turned over.
I felt unbalanced.
Where, wolf? I thought madly.
Whither wolf, Keith?
chapter
twenty-three
matter
I decide the best defense is a good offense. It’s a common strategy of mine.
“Teddy’s worried about you,” I tell Lex.
He lets his head fall back with a loud sigh. “So what else is new? Teddy’s worried about everything.”
“Yeah. But the day after that guy was found in the woods, he told me you knew him.”
Lex snorts. “Teddy really told you that?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever.”
“He also says you’ve been drinking too much,” I add.
“Whoa, wait. Why did Teddy tell you all of this?”
“Because he couldn’t find you. He thought I might know where you were.”
“Oh, right. See, now I know you’re lying, Win. Why on earth would Teddy ever think that?”
Lex is good. Really good. Clearly, I need to offer up something first if I expect to get anything in return. “Because he saw me eavesdropping on the cops. The morning they found that guy’s body.”
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Why were you eavesdropping?”
I feel flustered. “I was just curious.”
“Awesome. So Teddy’s worried. And you’re curious. Am I getting this right?”
“I guess,” I say.
“What does any of this have to do with me? Because, you know, I’m not either.”
“Either what?”
Lex smirks. “Worried or curious.”
“Tell me how you know the dead guy.”
“Tell me why you care.”
I’m playing with fire here, but I push forward. “I care because Teddy said you talked to him last April. At a party out here. The Rite of Spring. That’s the same night you came back to our room and almost died.”
The squeak of Lex’s leather jacket as he runs his hand across his own face is the only sound inside the tent. I can’t even hear him breathing. Outside there’s lots of noise. Laughter. Shouting. The thudding bass and low, lazy vocals of what I think might be the Wu-Tang Clan.
I’m not breathing either. The space between us is inconsequential. It’s inches, maybe. Or feet. Nothing hangs between us. Just air molecules. Oxygen. Nitrogen.
In other ways, the space between us is immeasurable.
“Almost died,” Lex repeats softly.
“That’s what the ER doc said. That your central nervous system was shutting down when you came in.”
“Okay.”
“He thought you did it on purpose, you know. Mixed stuff. Alcohol. Vicodin.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. It was, you know, after we talked,” I say.
Lex narrows his eyes. “Why would what we talked about make me want to kill myself?”
“You were upset.”
“Oh fuck, Win. Fuck. I can’t believe you’re bringing this up like this. I can’t believe it.”
“What?”
“You’re acting like your talking is what upset me. Did you somehow manage to forget the part of that night where you totally screwed me over?”
I swallow. “No.”
He points a finger at me. “Because if I wanted to die, there’s no way in hell I would do it with something lame like sleeping pills. Man, I’d do it right. I’d use a gun or jump off a—” He stops.
I continue to hold my breath. My lungs ache-burn, but I don’t give in. I need the hurt. I do. I need some kind of present-day suffering in order to hold the past pain at bay. The memory of Siobhan’s honey hair fluttering as if waving good-bye. The urgent howl of the train whistle.
“Oh, shit,” Lex says. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I am such an idiot sometimes.”
I say nothing.
He keeps talking. “This is … you’re right. I don’t know if I can deal with this. I really don’t. I thought I could, and I’m the one who wanted to talk to you tonight. I mean, I’m over what happened with Kelsey, I really am. And the way I’ve acted these last few months, it’s never been about that. It’s more that … look, I know I’ve been a real dick. I can’t even, you know, apologize for that. I just am a dick sometimes. It’s who I am. I don’t know why. I don’t have a good reason. I guess I tried to convince myself that it was funny to screw around with you. Because I was mad and, well, because you have such a stick up your ass sometimes, Win, you really do.”