Little Lies(24)

The doorknob turns, and he pokes his head in. He waits until I wave him over. River is tall, so he has to stay in the middle of the room to avoid hitting his head on the slanted ceilings. He’s very much a hybrid of our parents. He has our dad’s dark hair, but our mom’s waviness. His eyes are hazel, and he and I share the same mouth, but he has our dad’s nose.

Where Maverick is rugged, GQ modelesque, River is . . . pretty. He’s obviously masculine, but his angles aren’t as severe. Everything about his face is softer, which contradicts his personality. And because he’s constantly scowling, he looks like he wants to murder the entire world, but he’d be pretty doing it.

River crosses the room and stands beside my bed, scrutinizing me. I scoot over and pat the empty space. He sits and stretches out, his massive body taking up more than half of my queen-sized mattress.

“No houseguests tonight?” I decide to break the heavy silence with humor.

“I have an early class, and practice tomorrow.”

“How responsible of you.” I tip the box of cereal in his direction.

“I’m good.”

I shove my hand in the box, fishing around for a marshmallow. They’re getting harder to find.

“You know it drives Mav insane when you put the box back and there are no marshmallows left, right?” River is clearly struggling to say what he wants to.

“Yup.” I produce a rainbow and pop it in my mouth.

River grabs my hand, and I drop the box, cereal spilling over my bed. He sits up in a rush as I curl my fingers into a fist and try to hide the crescent moons scored in my palm. But River is strong, and I’m no match for him, so he pries my fist open—gently—and sucks in a breath.

When he looks at me, his expression is tortured. “What happened, Lav?” He runs his callused fingers across my palm. The cuts aren’t deep, but they exist, and that’s enough.

“It’s nothing.” I pull my hand free.

He rolls to his side and props himself up on one elbow. “Why are you lying to me? You always lie to me about him. Why?”

Because we had something you’ll never understand. Because even though I hate him, I’ll always love him. Because he used to get me in a way I don’t think anyone ever will again. Because he could save me without smothering me. “It’s complicated.”

“I wish I’d known about the glasses situation. I would’ve come to get you.”

“I should’ve walked home—or done anything but get in the car with him. But that was the choice I made, and only I get to regret it.” I link my pinkie with his.

“I don’t like that he does this to you,” River says softly.

“I do this to myself.”

“Because of him.”

“It’s been a lot of years, River. It was a shock to my system.” That’s a partial lie.

River chews the inside of his cheek to the point that I wonder if he’s making it bleed. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to come to school here and move in with me and Mav. It was a mistake. My mistake. I thought it would be better ’cause, like, we’re all here, and I didn’t want you to have to stay back with Mom and Dad for another year. But I feel like I’m making your life harder, not easier. It was selfish of me.”

“You didn’t force me to come here. It’s where I wanted to be.” That’s mostly the truth. I didn’t want to miss out on being where everyone else was.

His pinkie curls tight around mine. “I always wanted to keep you safe, Lav, but I kept fucking up. I couldn’t even keep you safe from Kody. Even now, I can’t.”

I squeeze his pinkie back. “I don’t want you to keep me safe from Kodiak. That’s my own cross to bear, not yours.”

He’s quiet for a long time before he finally exhales a long, slow breath. “I couldn’t keep you safe from a lot of things.”

After all the damage that’s been done over the years, I have to wonder which of us has suffered more.





Chapter Nine


Additional Suckage

Lavender

Present day

THE NEXT MORNING I get up early and make a stop at the student housing department so I can get myself on the list for a dorm room. It might be a long shot, but it certainly won’t happen if I don’t try. Turns out, there’s a pretty extensive waiting list, but if I don’t mind shared accommodations, I have a better chance. At this point, I’ll take about anything other than a cardboard box.

Unfortunately, when I head over to the registrar’s office right after, I’m even less successful. Apparently I need the macroeconomics course, and switching it to next semester isn’t an option unless I’d like to lose my elective. At least it’s only once a week. I guess it’s a good thing I stuck around for the quiz, although I don’t have much faith that I’ve managed to pass it.

As the week unfolds, I’m glad to report that the rest of my classes are awesome. So the upside is that I get macroeconomics out of the way at the beginning of the week. The downside is that the coursework for that is going to take me more hours than I would like to complete.

On Friday, the house starts filling up with random people early in the afternoon. It’s a gorgeous day and still gloriously warm as we approach the last week of August. By three o’clock, girls upon girls in skimpy bikinis are draped all over my brothers and their hockey and football friends.