Something Like Normal(39)

She stops laughing, because she knows I’m right. My brother is crazy about her in a way I never was. Never will be. Paige has had a string of lovesick schmucks who fell for her and didn’t realize she’d never love them back. Even though Ryan and I don’t get along all that well, he’s still my brother. I don’t like the idea of him ending up one of those lovesick schmucks. “He’s a lot better for you than I am.”

“I know.”

I hear the hesitation in her voice. “But?”

“He’s not you.”

“Well, no shit,” I say, which makes her sniffle-laugh. “But if you’re not into Rye, don’t toy with him. Cut him loose.”

She shoulder-bumps me. “If things don’t work out between you and Harper—”

“Get out of here.” I laugh. “I’ve got things to do.”

Paige leans over and kisses my cheek. “See ya, Trav.”

She pulls open my bedroom door and Ryan is standing in the hallway. Of course. The one time that absolutely nothing happens between me and Paige, we get busted. Ryan’s face goes to rage instantly. “What the—?”

He rushes me, slamming his hands into the middle of my chest, and pushes me back against the wall. I hear some of the photos tear away from the wall and the head of a thumbtack presses into my back. It happens so fast and I’m still trying to process the fact that Ryan got the drop on me when his fist connects with my eye. The same one Harper hit.

“Ryan, stop it!” Paige grabs his arms and tries to pull him away, but he shakes her off and cocks his fist back to hit me again. I shove him, but the stupid fool comes at me again. One hit? Fine. I deserved that. But I’m not going to be his personal punching bag. Not when he started this. Lowering my shoulder, I hit him in the chest. He grabs on to me and we hit the floor. His fists are pummeling me wherever he can reach, but I’ve got him pinned to the ground.

“Let him go.” Dad grabs the back of my T-shirt, pulling it until I can feel the collar pressing tightly against the front of my neck like a noose. Ryan gets in one last hit, smacking the side of my head with his fist. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nothing.” I reach out to help Ryan up, but he slaps my hand away. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“I want you out of here,” Dad says, pointing at me.

“Dean—”

“No, Linda.” He cuts her off and helps Ryan to his feet. “Ever since he’s come home, Travis has stirred up trouble—getting you drunk, trying to break up our marriage, and this isn’t the first time he’s had Paige over in the middle of the night. I’ve had enough.”

They’re standing in a clump on the other side of my room. Them versus me. Except Paige, who looks as if she wishes she were anywhere but here, and Mom is gnawing her lip. Dad’s arm is across my brother’s chest, holding Ryan back.

“Well, we finally agree on something.” I grab my seabag and shove in a handful of shirts from the top drawer of my dresser. “I’m done.”

“Travis, wait.” My mom steps forward. Out from Dad’s shadow. “You don’t have to leave. This is my house—”

“Your house?” Dad interrupts.

“It will be mine in the divorce if you don’t stop talking,” Mom snaps. His eyes go wide, because she never talks like that, but he stops talking. “Travis isn’t the bad guy here, Dean. He spent his childhood trying to live up to your impossible expectations and when he decided he didn’t want to do that anymore, you were the one who treated him as if he’s worthless. And you’ve made me feel like I’m wrong for supporting our son when he was in the middle of a war. You are the bad guy, Dean. You. And I have had enough.”

I have to do a mental check to make sure my mouth isn’t hanging open because… damn, Mom.

“So Travis isn’t leaving unless he wants to leave, and things are going to change around here,” she says. “If you want to stay married to me, you’re going to have to straighten up, and if you don’t, you need to pack your things and get out.”

Dad looks bewildered—like he can’t figure out what just happened—but I have no sympathy. Not when I’m so proud of my mom.

“Now,” she says. “I’m going back to bed. Paige, you’d be wise to leave now, and Dean—well, what you do is up to you. Good night.”

She walks out with some serious dignity, leaving the rest of us standing there in silence. Dad’s expression is murderous as he clings to his pathetic insistence that this is my fault. His fists bunch at his sides and his jaw twitches, as if he’s considering taking a swing. I meet his glare. “I wouldn’t.”

He stalks out of the room, his footsteps fading down the stairs, instead of down the hall toward Mom, the way they should. Coward.

“Listen, Rye—” I say.

“Go to hell.”

Paige doesn’t say anything. She drops the spare key on the end of my bed and leaves. Pain flashes across my brother’s face—he won’t get the courtesy of a Dear John letter to make the breakup official—before it hardens back to anger.

“Why did you do it?” He won’t look at me.

“Do what?”

“Sleep with my girlfriend.”