"Me," he said, shoveling a bite of rice into his mouth.
"You liked me?"
"Yep, I snuck out of my tent that night when I heard you get up. My tent was next to yours, remember? I had this grand idea. I would bait you with the idea that my brother liked you and you would throw yourself into my arms and declare your love for me."
"You liked me?" I repeated, trying to wrap my head around the idea. He was right. After that night, Dan and I started to spend more time together. Eventually our feelings morphed into romantic feelings. I had no idea Brian had a crush on me the whole time. "How long?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. It would come in waves. I knew it was my fault you two got together, so I figured I had to pay the piper."
"It wasn't your fault. Dan and I were meant to be together."
He recoiled at my words.
I bit the inside of my lip, searching for the right words to explain what I meant. "It's just the way it was." Silence met my words as he ate his dinner.
Feeling terrible, I picked at my own food while I digested his words. It was hard to wrap my brain around his what-ifs since they didn't match my own. Dan and I were together almost seven years. He'd been my best friend, my partner in crime, the person I planned to spend my life with. I traced Brian's words back to that night. What would I have done if he would have declared his feelings for me that night? Would everything have changed? Did I only like Dan because Brian had planted the seed as he believed? It was hard to separate the two. For the life of me I couldn't seem to figure out the answer. It was as unsolvable as those movies where someone travels back in time and messes everything up. One thing was for sure, that night had changed a lot of things for me.
"Does that bother you?" Brian asked, breaking into my thoughts.
I blinked up at him wondering how he could know what I was thinking. "What? That you liked me?" I asked, trying to sort through my thoughts.
He nodded as he ate a bite of his burrito.
I thought about his question for a minute before answering. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. The obvious feeling was annoyance at myself for never realizing it. "No, it doesn't bother me. Did Dan know?" I asked.
He nodded again, though this one was more curt as he took another bite of food. I studied him for a moment and ignored my meal. I felt like I was missing a major piece to a puzzle here. I wanted to dig further, but Brian switched gears on our conversation, moving to a subject that was more lighthearted. I filed my questions away for later. He wasn't getting off the hook.
I didn't bring up the subject again until we were driving back to my apartment. In the dark I could see Brian's jawline tense when I asked my first question. "So, Dan knew you were crushing on his girl?" I asked, trying to keep the question light.
"Yeah, he did." His tone had a finality to it. I watched him in the dark and tried to make sense of his cryptic responses. Dan and Brian had a great relationship. They'd been best friends despite Brian's exclusion from our group. Hearing Brian casting shade toward Dan seemed wrong. Misplaced.
"Was he mad you had feelings for me?" I asked, more than a little curious. It was unlike Dan to keep something of this magnitude from me. He'd been an open book. What he was feeling or thinking was always written across his face. If he couldn't express his feelings with regular words he'd change them to lyrical ones that would get his point across.
Brian turned into my parking lot and cut the engine off but didn't make a move to leave the car. After a few moments the headlights blinked out, leaving us in a cocoon of darkness. I began to wonder if Brian would answer my question. Maybe he was waiting for me to get out.
"He wasn't the one who should have been mad," Brian said as my hand reached for my door handle.
"You were mad?" I asked, shocked. No one ever got mad at Dan. It was the joke of our group. He wasn't serious like Zach or a natural rule follower like Mac had been, but he also wasn't a hell-raiser like Jessica. Dan was different. He was special. As far back as I could remember we'd all felt that way. He was one of those guys who could show up at a party and everyone took notice from the moment he entered it. Girls naturally gravitated toward him. It was the whole musician thing he had going on. He marched to his own beat. "When?" I asked.
"Cindy Mason."
A simple name. Nothing but a few syllables and letters spliced together, but they were the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. Cindy Mason. Dan assured me she meant nothing. He begged me to believe him, telling me I was being silly for seeing something that wasn't there. "What about her?" I demanded. My stomach knotted with a million invisible ropes, and I regretted the meal I'd just consumed.
He turned to look at me. Even in the dark I could see the pity on his face. The urge to punch him ripped through me. I didn't want his pity.
"Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything," Brian said, reaching for my hand.
I jerked back. I didn't want him pacifying me. "Well, you did, and now I want to know." My voice filled the car with its venom. "Did he sleep with her? Is that what you were going to tell me?"
He didn't need to answer. I could see the truth reflected on his face.
The insanity of the moment clawed its way through me. Deep down I'd always known. I'd chosen not to believe what was right in front of my face. I dropped my head into my hands, shaking from trying to repress my feelings.
Brian reached for me and rubbed a hand across my trembling shoulders. "Kat, I'm sorry. Please don't cry. I shouldn't have said anything. My brother was an asshole. He didn't realize how good he had it until he almost lost you."
My shoulders shook again. Harder this time. I clamped my mouth closed, trying to hold in the insanity, but it couldn't be contained. It poured out of me in great big waves of laughter.
Brian looked at me as if I'd lost my mind as I peered up at him with tears of merriment leaking from my eyes. Maybe I had. Maybe I'd finally fallen off my rocker. "Dan cheated on me," I laughed. "I felt guilty as hell sleeping with you last night. Did you know that?" I chuckled again, though it felt a little more hysterical. "I felt like I'd betrayed him. But now you're telling me he cheated on me junior year with fucking Cindy Mason. No wonder that bitch was so smug. She got something from Dan I'd never get." The last of my laughter shut off like a switch.
Unable to sit still a moment longer, I scrambled from the car. Brian made a move to follow me but I whirled on him with more anger than he probably deserved. I was past seeing reason. "Just leave me alone," I shouted, racing across the parking lot. Carlos called out to me as I passed him, but I didn't even look in his direction. My anger carried me up to my apartment where I slammed my door with a resounding bang.
Rage shook my body from head to toe. I glanced around my apartment wanting to break everything in sight, but reason intervened and propelled me to my running gear.
Less than five minutes later I left my apartment and its confining walls behind. The memories were harder to shed. They dogged my every step with persistence, steeped in betrayal. The only good thing was that I no longer felt guilty.
Fifteen
I ignored Brian's calls that night once I returned home from my run dripping with sweat. I listened to his voicemails filled with apology and remorse. I could have called him back, told him he had nothing to apologize for, but a small seed of paranoia taunted me that this was his fault. If he would have kept his mouth closed, I wouldn't be facing something I'd tried so hard to ignore. The perfect image of Dan I'd immortalized during the last two years was slowly evaporating, leaving the stark truth behind.
Brian called me again in the morning, but I once again let his call go directly to voicemail. Instead, I headed over to Zach's. I needed to be with someone from the inside of the group. Someone who would remind me that not everything was a lie.
Zach was sitting on his couch watching The Walking Dead when I walked in.
"Hershel loses his leg in the next episode," I said, plunking down on the couch next to him.
<
br /> "Bitch. You're lucky I already knew that."
"Too bad," I said, snapping my fingers in mock disappointment. "I guess I don't need to tell about the Governor and how—"
"Stop." Zach glared at me and turned back to his show.
I settled back on the couch to watch the action on screen as Daryl shot an arrow through a zombie's head. I'd binge-watched the whole series when I returned to the States. The show was good, though the plot holes bothered me. For the life of me I couldn't understand why the survivors never thought to go to a Sam's Club or BJ's. They'd never run out of supplies.
"Don't you work today?" Zach asked when a boring scene came on.
I shook my head. "My classes are done for the summer. I thought we could hang out more now."
"Suit yourself," he said, returning to the show.
I rolled my eyes at his words. Nothing like feeling welcomed.
"Lori loses her baby," I said tongue-in-cheek, wanting to punish him.
He glared at me and hit me with the throw pillow next to him.
I plucked it out of his hand and clutched it to my chest.
"What's up?" Zach asked, really looking at me.
I shrugged. I wasn't sure what I'd been thinking when I headed over to see him. Dan and he had been friends. Did I really want to ask him about his friend cheating on me?
"Kat?" he asked, muting the TV. This was a testament to how far we'd come during the last month. When I first started visiting him he wouldn't even look at me, much less turn his games down so we could talk.
I sighed and sat back on the couch. "Dan cheated on me with Cindy." I said her name like it was toxic.
"Yes."
The old Zach would have beat around the bush. The Zach we all knew would have tried to pacify the situation. That Zach was dead. Truthful, brutal Zach had been left in his wake.
"More than once?" I asked, feeling sick to my stomach. I wanted to cut my tongue out so it would stop working, but I'd made it this far. I might as well finish.
"Yes."
"Why?" I asked, though I knew the answer. Dan wanted to go all the way. It had been my parents who'd encouraged me to wait. I'd agreed with them. At the time, it didn't seem to be a big deal. We'd do it eventually. I could now see it must have been more important to Dan.
Zach's eyes bore into mine. "Why do you think? You decided to lock your knees. Dan didn't want to be the only guy left to score in our class."
His words were cruel. They didn't belong to him. If I didn't know better I would have been convinced a ventriloquist was controlling them. "You're an asshole," I said without any real conviction.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Because I can be. I don't have to be the good guy anymore. I don't have to be the rule follower. Grades and obeying the law don't even matter. I could have flunked all my classes. Driven above the speed limit. Hell, I could have bailed out of driving altogether. I could have made one of you do it. I'm not a leader anymore. No one is expecting me to step up. They won't ever expect anything from me ever again. I can sit in this room playing video games and watching mindless shows for the rest of my life and no one would care."
"That's bullshit. I would care. You don't have to be the leader or the good guy you used to be, but you don't have to be prove anything by being deliberately cruel. Especially to those who love you."
"Do you love me, Kat?" he mocked.
"Of course I love you. We're friends."
"Are we?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Yes. We've been friends our whole lives."
Something flashed in his eyes at my words. "And that's supposed to mean something?"
"Of course it means something. It means everything."
"Really? Then why haven't you gone to see Mac again? If we're all such good friends, shouldn't you be there with her? Or do you not love her?"
"Of course I love Mac. It's just not the same thing."
"It's not?" he asked, surprising me by reaching out and grasping my wrist. Before I could register his intention, he was tugging me toward him so our chests were touching and our faces were only inches apart. "And you love me like a friend?" he asked, crushing his lips to mine.
The kiss was angry and punishing. I could have pulled away. I probably should have, but I was curious and decided to let it play out. I wondered if he would ignite the same fire in me that Brian had. I slid my hands into his hair, anchoring his head into place while his lips moved roughly against mine. His tongue was relentless as it slid into my mouth desperately searching for something, someone else. It only took me a moment to realize that I didn't have what he was searching for and I wasn't the person he was looking for. I didn't pull away though. I stayed in his arms pressed against his chest until he reached the same conclusion I had. Zach was hurting.
I knew when he finally realized he wouldn't get what he was looking for from me. I wasn't Tracey and I never would be, just like he could never step into Dan's shoes. Zach's lips lost their hardness as they pressed more tenderly against mine. His tongue retreated only to return more softly, almost apologetically, before leaving for good. I stayed in his arms even after his mouth left mine.
"This fucking sucks," he said, looking more lost than I'd ever seen him.
I reached a hand up and settled it against his cheek. "It's going to be okay."
He shuddered at my words but didn't push me away. His arms tightened around me to draw me closer. It was an awkward angle, but my own arms wove around his back. I felt the splash of his first tear on the back of my neck, which was quickly followed by another one.
He buried his head into my neck.
He was broken. We both were.
Zach and I didn't talk about the kiss when he finally pulled himself together. I borrowed his mom's keys and loaded him up in her new SUV with the rack attached to the back for his wheelchair. Neither of us commented about the procedure of loading him in a vehicle. The irony that I was now the one strapping us in and pulling out of the driveway was not lost on me.
His mom waved from the driveway with a wide smile on her face. She probably wouldn't have been quite as excited if she knew where I was taking him. I tried not to think about the last time Zach and I'd been headed toward the beach. We were both silent as I drove over the causeway that we once let out whoops while going down. I could see the pinched look in his eyes, but I could also sense the anticipation in them.
I didn't head toward our usual beach after I cleared the bridge. I turned left, heading for a different destination. I could see the questioning look on Zach's face, but he didn't ask where we were going.
Five minutes later I pulled into a parking spot, unloaded his wheelchair, and pushed him toward our destination. It was early in the day with most of the beachgoers still lounging in the sun, which meant the small beachside amusement park was dead.
I pushed Zach over the sand-covered sidewalk with one destination in mind.
"I can't go on that," he finally spoke when I stopped to buy us two tickets for the Slingshot.
"Can he go on this?" I asked the pimply teenager selling tickets.
"Can you hang on?" he asked Zach, leaning out the window of his stand to get a better look.
"Yes," Zach answered.
"That works," he said, not looking concerned. I avoided reading the rules listed on the outside of his stand in case he was wrong. This was too important.
The attendant running the ride was even less concerned about Zach's wheelchair as he helped me maneuver it into place so Zach could hoist himself into the seat.
"Are you sure about this?" Zach asked as the attendant wheeled his chair to the side.
"Do you want to be free?" I asked, grabbing his hands.
"Yes," he answered fervently.
"Then hold on," I said, smiling at him as the attendant pushed a button and launched us into the air.
Sixteen
Brian was waiting for me outside my apartment when I arrived home that evening after dropp
ing off Zach. My heart tripped slightly at the sight of him. I tried and failed to put him out of my mind all day.
"Where have you been?" he asked when I stepped off the last stair leading to my apartment.
"Does it matter?" I asked, shouldering past him.
"Yes, it does. I was worried about you." He reached for me.
I sighed, shrugging his hand off my arm. "Brian, you shouldn't be worrying about me. We're not dating. Just because I slept with you doesn't mean I'm suddenly your girl." Cruel asshole struck again.
He recoiled at my words. "I know that."
"Do you?" I stepped into my apartment. "Because it sure seems like you're trying to stake a claim."
"Kat, I'm not trying to stake a claim. Look, I'm sorry I hurt you last night," he said, running a hand over his head.
"Why did you even tell me?" I asked, pulling out the thoughts that had been haunting me all day. "You knew the truth would hurt me and tarnish my memories of your brother. Why would you do that to him? Were you just waiting to ride in and save the day?"
His eyes hardened. "No."
"Then why?"
He remained silent as he stood in my doorway.
"Look, Brian, this or whatever this is isn't going to work. We both have too many skeletons in our pasts." I tossed my keys on the counter and placed my hand on my hip, waiting for him to leave.
He did the opposite by stepping farther into my apartment and closing the door behind him. My apartment felt smaller with him in it. Brian carried an air of confidence that was bigger than his actual physique. He stepped closer to me, placing his hands on my shoulders as if he was afraid I was going to bolt. He knew me well.
"I told you about my brother not to hurt you but to help you move on. You're holding some kind of damn torch for him like he was a saint or something. You would rather deprive yourself of happiness than remember that though he was a terrific guy, he was also flawed. He was far from perfect, and it's time you stop being a martyr and start living."
I shrugged out from under his hands. "I'm not a martyr," I retorted with barely suppressed rage. "Your brother was my everything. Why can't you understand that? When he died, the best parts of me died too. I lost my life the day he died, and it was all my fault."