Man, it’d be nice if he started writing again. I used to love reading the stories he’d write for me when I was a kid – chock full of dragon-slaying princesses and evil troll-witches. But maybe that was childish of me. Wishing for those stories was just that – wishing. And wishing was pointless. I’d learned that much already.
I tried not to think about how Mom was coming home less and less. I tried not to think about the word ‘divorce’, because everything was teetering on a razor’s edge already and if the ‘d’ word came into it, I felt like everything would come crashing down. Maybe Mom felt the same way – which is why she was staying out so many nights when she didn’t have work. Maybe she too knew that divorce would collapse what was left of our family into nothing more than dust and bones.
Maybe she knew it would hurt Dad most of all, in ways that might not be reparable.
So yeah, for a brief week and a half, I forgot all about Wolf Blackthorn. I had too much going on. Getting up earlier to run with Burn started to get easier, and I almost stopped completely hating running. Panting and sweating wasn’t so bad after you did it a bunch and your body got used to it. Fitz and I agreed to stop the whole ‘fake tutor’ thing, even though I kept letting him believe I was crushing on Wolf. It lead to a couple of awkward situations, the least of which was Fitz trying to force Wolf’s number on me.
“Go on, stop being stubborn about it,” Fitz sighed. “It’s just a cellphone number.”
“What would I even say?” I asked. “’Hey, it’s me, this girl you don’t care about, creepily texting you with your number I got. Somehow’. “
“You wouldn’t be the first girl to try it.”
“Fantastic.” I threw my hands up. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
It turned out pretending to like Wolf was a lot easier than hating him. Or maybe my hate for him was mistaken by Fitz as love. Whatever the case, I barely needed to act different at all, and Fitz never once questioned me. We walked to lunch together, which was weird in and of itself, but Fitz insisted it was for ‘tutoring’ me in how to get his brother’s attention.
“Are you ready for the tests?” He asked. “There’s a thousand and seven of them this week. If you need something -” He quirked his eyebrows. “To, you know, get through it – I’m your guy.”
“No thanks. I think I’m good without your illicit substances,” I sighed. “But you never know. I could pretend to be dumb again for a hot two seconds and tank my academic career.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Who would start giving me a run for my money if you played dumb again, hrm? Do you know how boring it is being the smartest one in this place?”
“I’m sure it’s agonizing.”
“Agonizing!” He agreed loudly. “I was on the verge of shriveling up and dying before you came along.”
I picked up a burrito and rolled my eyes at him. “I’m flattered.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to prepare you for the flood of romantic nonsense that’s gonna come your way whenever Wolf finds out you like him back.”
I tried to hide my flinch. If only he knew the truth.
“I-I seriously doubt he likes me.”
Fitz doubled around, shaking a chocolate milk in my face. “Bee, look at me. Do I look like the type of guy who would lie to you?”
His golden hair caught the sunlight and his freckles scrunched with his devilish grin. I sighed.
“Yes. Always.”
“Fair enough. But do I look like the type of guy who doesn’t know what’s going on around him at all times with piercing emotional accuracy?”
He posed with the milk, and waited. I groaned.
“I dunno. Maybe?”
“I’m his brother, Bee. I still remember when he gave his first Valentine’s card in kindergarten to Elise Baker. I know what he acts like when he’s got it bad.”
“Asshole-ishly?” I guessed.
“Terrified! The poor guy’s so divorced from his attraction to other people he barely knows how to handle it! So he stuffs it in the back and hopes it goes away, until it builds and builds and then explodes like Mount Vesuvius. That’s just how he is.”
“So what you’re saying is, it’s hopeless.”
“It’s not hopeless,” He corrected. “It’s just…annoying. I’d love it if he could deal with his shit in a, you know, normal and healthy way, but after Mom –“
He stopped, and the air suddenly got heavy. Something was lying just beneath the surface of his words, tantalizingly close to coming out. His smile faded, bit by bit. But he shook it off and smiled so bright again I was nearly blinded.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re studying to be a psychologist, huh? God knows he needs one of those.”
“Fitz, what happened with your Mom?” I pressed.
“You already know,” His eyes got sharp. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”
“I mean – I know she…” I flinched. “I know she – “
“You can say it,” He demanded. “Died.”
A few people heard him and started staring. I sat down at my usual table and lowered my voice.
“Sorry. I know she died.”
“When I was eight,” He barreled on. “In a car accident.”
I felt like a jerk for pressing him. What was I thinking? “I’m so sorry, Fitz.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t get the worst of it.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t there. Not like Wolf was.”
My chest felt like it was trying to cave in on itself. “Wolf was –“
“There, when it happened. They pulled him out of the wreckage. Or, they tried to. But he wouldn’t let go of Mom’s hand.”
Ice and fire waged war in my veins. Is that what Wolf really meant in the garage? ‘The first time since Mom died’? I’d thought it was ‘the first time since Mark’. But maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe the truth was so much sadder than what I’d inferred.
“And your dad,” I regained my voice. “Your dad didn’t send you to counseling? Or at least get counseling for Wolf?”
“Oh, he tried.” Fitz opened his milk. “But Wolf refused to talk to any of them. It used to be a lot worse. He used to wake up screaming. I guess time helps – he hasn’t done that in a while. But on the downside, he can’t, you know, stand shaking hands with someone. So. There’s that.”