“It wasn’t your business. It’s still not your business. You’re not my dad.” Or my boyfriend, I add mentally. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”
He steps under the eave, out of the rain. “I just … I don’t know how to do that now.”
I push past him and open the door. “I’m not sure you ever did.”
MATT
Mom watches wide-eyed as Raychel stalks through the kitchen and into the front hall. “What in the world?”
“We had a fight.”
“I can see that.” The door closes loudly. “Is she walking home in the rain?”
“She’ll take the transit.”
“She’ll get soaked on the way to—”
“I don’t care, okay?” I bang around, trying to make myself a glass of iced tea, until Mom takes the breakables out of my hands.
“Matthew.” She makes me turn to face her. “I know it feels easier to push people away, but you can’t just—”
“Why do you always take her side?” I yell. I know I’m being irrational and immature, but it’s true. I’m always wrong, and Raychel’s always right, even when we’ve both screwed up. “I’m your son!”
Mom waits, lightly rubbing my upper arm. “Why don’t you tell me what really happened?” she says finally.
“You don’t want to know.” I move out of her reach and try again to make a drink.
She waits until I have a full glass and take a sip. “I know that you and Raychel are both struggling,” she says slowly. “But you need each other to get through this.”
“She doesn’t need me,” I say, unable to hide my bitterness.
“Honey.” Mom goes for my shoulder this time, squeezing it gently. “I know how you feel about her.”
I laugh hollowly. “I don’t think you do.”
Mom gives a ghost of a smile. “It’s pretty obvious.”
Hearing that gets worse every single time. Everyone thought I should end up with Raychel, even my mom. I feel like I’ve let her down. “I can promise you, she doesn’t feel the same way.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know!” I shout, then lower my voice. It’s petty, but the fact that I’m here, taking the heat for my brother’s lies, pushes me into tattling on him one last time. “Because she liked Andrew.”
Mom stares at me. “What?”
“She liked Andrew,” I say, defeated, but also relieved to finally admit the truth, or at least part of it. “They were sort of … dating. Before.”
What I don’t expect is for Mom’s entire body to stiffen. “What do you mean, ‘sort of dating’?”
“I mean … I don’t know, Mom, they were hooking up. They liked each other. But they kept it secret.”
Mom straightens, her lips pinched. “Were they ‘hooking up’ under my roof?”
“I don’t … I don’t know.”
“For how long? Right here under my nose?” Mom won’t give me a chance to answer. “I cannot believe that she would abuse our trust this way!”
I’m not sure what to say. Mom never used to lose her cool like this, and it’s freaking me out to see her explode instead of setting me straight with logic.
“We’ve done nothing but help that girl and she—I just cannot believe—” Mom is so mad she’s sputtering, then she bursts into tears. “How could this happen?”
“I don’t … I don’t know.” It’s the same question I’ve asked myself a million times. All I’ve learned is that Andrew’s just as much to blame as Raychel, but it’s a lot harder to be mad at a dead person.
But Mom doesn’t really want an answer. I tentatively put my arms around her, and she cries like Andrew’s just died again, not letting go of me until Dad gets home to take my place.
RAYCHEL
I don’t hear from Matt that night, which is no surprise. When I text him not to pick me up for school, Dr. R. replies instead.
Raychel—Come to the clinic tomorrow instead of the house. Thx—Dr. R.
*
Matt ignores me all Friday, so I return the favor. But he’s nowhere to be found after school. I’m late to the clinic after catching the transit, and when Dr. R. waves me into his office, I assume I’m in trouble for that. Instead he takes a seat in his big leather chair. “I think it might be better,” he says carefully, “if you work here from now on.”
“Okay…” I wait for some explanation, but none comes. “Did something happen?”
He sits back and gazes at me sadly. “Raychel, were you … dating Andrew?”
My hands ball into fists. I knew Matt was mad, but I never would have guessed he’d go this far to get back at me. “Sort of. We weren’t really official until … We were going to tell everyone. The day he…”
Dr. R. leans forward. “When did Matt find out?”
Matt wants to tell my secrets? Fine. Two can play that game. “That … that morning, Matt, um … he tried to kiss me that morning, so he was really mad when he saw me and Andrew…” I don’t have it in me to be this cruel, and tears start to prickle. “It was an accident. He acted like he was going to hit him and then … and then…”
“He didn’t push him.”
“No,” I hiccup. “It was just … terrible.”
Dr. R. is quiet for a long time. “Accidents happen,” he says finally, his voice shaking. “He should have been more careful.” His shoulders heave. “We all should have.”
I can’t stand to watch him cry. “Is Mrs. R. mad?” I ask. He doesn’t answer, and my stomach sinks. “I’ll go apologize. Right after work.”
He waits until I’m about to walk out before he says quietly, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
MATT
On Friday night, I try to blank out in front of a football game, but Mom and Dad come in and turn off the TV. “We need to talk to you,” Dad says.
My entire life feels like one big talk right now. “About what?”
They take seats on either side of me. “We want to hear your version of what happened on the hiking trail.”
I rest my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands like I can squash my panic between them. Dad must have talked to Raychel today. She probably told him the truth, because it’s bad enough without embellishment, but does he hope she was lying?
Or does he think she left stuff out to cover for me?
From the corner of my eye, I can see Mom’s hands shaking, and her fear spurs me into spilling it all at once. “I … Everyone else had gone ahead, but I heard voices, so I looked out on a little outcropping and…” My voice drops. “And I saw Andrew kissing Raychel,” I say dully.
“And?” Mom asks.
“And I got really mad. I was yelling, and I kept stepping toward them, and Andrew didn’t realize how”—I swallow as hard as I can—“how close he was. So he … he stepped off.”
I expect Mom to look horrified, but her face just settles into resignation, which is even worse. She’s already prepared herself to believe this was my fault. It freezes me in place until Dad clears his throat. “Okay. That’s what Raychel said too. Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying not to cry. “I … should have told you. I just … couldn’t.”
“We understand,” he says, taking my hand. I doubt Mom agrees, but I let him say it anyway. “Of course you would be hesitant to explain. But we know you would never have hurt him on purpose.”