Where Silence Gathers (Some Quiet Place #2)(31)

He laughs, and it’s as if nothing strange between us has happened. That odd pensive look in his eyes is gone. I’d been about to tell him about the attack, but I don’t want to bring it back. “It’s an expression,” my friend tells me, grinning.

“Well, I’ve never heard it before,” I lie, because I have nothing else to say, and dig through the rest of the box. Just clothes. The marker is next to my knee. I yank the cap off and label the cardboard side, then close the flaps and push the whole thing away.

Revenge stands and moves to the record player. There’s that scratching sound again as he puts the needle on it. “You’ve never left Franklin. There’s a whole wide world out there, my friend, with many expressions and places and experiences you’ve yet to discover.” Soft music ebbs through the room.

Surprisingly, him being here isn’t improving my mood. I’m almost violent while I root through the next box. “You sound like you’re writing a pamphlet for a travel agency.”

“Those are pretty much extinct now. See how cut off you are, on this mountain? I bet you don’t even know who the president is.” I don’t have to look at him to know Revenge is smirking, thinking he’s so clever. I don’t feel like humoring him. TEA SET, I scribble. My handwriting is illegible, a fact that my aunt and uncle seemed to have forgotten when they assigned this task to me. Revenge watches, twitching. He’s bored. I can tell. Some things don’t change.

That’s when I realize that I’m twitching, too. My fingers tap the wood floor. Forgiveness’s words break through my barriers. Do you ever just sit still?

Fortunately, I won’t have time to think about him tonight. I lean back and look at the ceiling, counting under my breath. “And three, two, one … ”

“We haven’t gone out in a while,” Revenge says suddenly.

There’s no way Saul and Missy will let me go anywhere. Not with my head wound and the way I’ve been acting lately. And things are different now. Before, Revenge would suggest some party happening in another town or just a long drive.

“What did you have in mind?” I snap. “The bridge? No, wait, let me guess. Nate Foster’s?” Revenge starts to answer, but I laugh, cutting him off. “Forget it. We’ve established that all I can do is sit in that damn car and stare at his house. I don’t have what it takes. Okay? So you can focus on the people who are actually worth your time.”

Turning my back on him, I rummage through yet another box. A long, long pause cracks our friendship, threatening to shatter it completely. Desperation kneels beside me, her expression strained as she strokes my hair. Maybe Revenge thinks she’s here because I want to confront Nate Foster so badly—and I do—but in this moment all I want to do is ask him what we are. Or, at least, what we could be. It’s on my list of fears, after all. Small spaces, spiders, confronting Nate Foster, and asking Revenge for the truth.

Desperation leaves us to our stilted silence. We’ve never fought before, not like this. It’s my fault. I’ve been unraveling ever since art class, the knots of sanity and reason so far undone it will take hours to tie them back together again.

The music screeches to a halt, probably sensing the tension. I don’t know how to fix this, and I’m not sure I want to. It begins to seem like the damage is permanent when Revenge finally says, “I know what will help.”

I rub my eye, sighing. Suddenly I’m so, so tired. “Oh, yeah? What?”

“Kiss me.”

At first, I wonder if I imagined the words. They’re so faint, just a whisper. Slowly, I face Revenge again. “W-what?”

As an answer, he gets up from the chair, and my breathing becomes uneven. His essence burns through me, almost painfully. More images of vengeance flicker through my mind, but I’m so shocked that I barely notice them.

With an expression I’ve never seen on his face before—one I can’t even define—Revenge advances. I’m so startled that I instinctively get up and retreat. He doesn’t stop, and suddenly my back hits the wall, as it did the last time we were in this attic. Only now, there are no interruptions. Now, Revenge doesn’t hesitate. Like before, he plants his hands on either side of my head and puts his mouth so close to mine that I can feel his breath. That chocolate scent torments my senses. “Kiss me,” he repeats. “Choose me.” I wait, but even though he’s breaking the rules, he still won’t take the choice from me.

“Revenge,” I manage, my voice strangled, all my irritation forgotten. His eyes close, like his name on my lips is a dose of morphine and he’s in the throes of oblivion. Still he waits. Still I hesitate. Lust is sliding her finger up my arm.

This is the moment I’ve daydreamed about since I first realized how much I love my best friend. It seems so perfect. The light is serene, falling over us as if from a lantern. Silence floats through the golden space. And Revenge is here, so close I can smell his skin. I’ve never touched his skin. Would it be hot? Would it burn me, even deeper than I already burn? I look up at him, wondering if he can hear the way my heart thunders. So perfect, I think again.

But it’s not.

“Why?” I whisper back.

He opens his jade eyes and frowns. Already the haze around us begins to fade. Lust flips her hair and disappears. “What do you mean?” he asks.