Love, Hate and Other Filters(59)

“Oh, my God. I forgot—” I snatch my jeans and hold them to my chest. “Can you turn around?”

Phil grins but complies. “You know, I’ve actually already seen you in your underwear.”

I quickly slip into the last of my dry clothes. I quietly walk back to Phil and run my fingers from his shoulder down his arm into his hand. He closes his fingers around mine, raises my hand to his lips, and kisses my palm.

Phil moves his face closer to look into my eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time. But the timing … I kinda screwed that up. And your parents. I’m guessing they wouldn’t exactly approve?”

“I would pretty much be facing deportation to India.”

“Speaking of them, your mom’s frantic. We need to get you home.”

“I know, but … can’t we stay? Please help me ignore reality a little longer.”

Phil finally pulls apart from me. I shiver in the sudden cold. He walks over to the chair, takes the sleeping bag, and spreads it over the damp pine floor, then lies down. I take my spot next to him, resting my head on his outstretched arm.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says. “But why did you come here?”

I shrug. “I didn’t have anyplace else to go. I guess it was stupid. But I couldn’t be at home anymore. I couldn’t breathe. When I woke up yesterday, my mom told me I have to stay at home and commute to school. No way. I can’t. It’s not even … Brian attacked me, and someone vandalized their office, but I’m the one facing the consequences.”

“That was Brian, too. He confessed—to everything.”

My breath catches. “What? He … how?”

“That video you took while he was harassing you was enough to show that he lied—that it was more than words, that it was assault. It pretty much saved my ass, too.”

“But why would he—?”

“I don’t know the whole story yet. My dad talked to the lawyer this morning, and then the police came by the house. I guess they’re still sorting it out, but I’m off the hook.”

I turn on my side to face Phil and draw my arm across his chest. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that because of me. If I had only—”

“No. None of it is your fault. At all. If anyone is responsible for not stopping him sooner, it’s me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this. I should’ve told you before …”

My pulse pounds. I don’t know what he’s going to say, but I kind of don’t want to hear it. I just want one perfect moment, but this isn’t going to be it. I take a breath, put my hand on his arm, and give him a little nod to continue.

“You know how he was being all weird with you at the bookstore and at school?”

“Yes, if by weird you mean an asshole.”

“Pretty much. And remember how I told you he’d been that way since the end of the football season?”

“Since he got benched? Right?”

“It wasn’t about getting benched. He was benched for behavior, not skill. His brother served in Iraq, and he came home around halfway through the season. He lost a leg over there—IED—and—”

“And he blames me. I know, he said.”

“It’s not that. I mean, his brother came out to talk to the team one day about leadership and loyalty and counting on each other. He is this total stand-up guy. He wasn’t blaming Iraqis or Muslims, more like the facts of war …”

“And …”

“And I said something to Brian about how his brother was an American hero. I actually said those words. Because it’s true. But Brian got pissed about it, shoved me off. I didn’t make a big deal about it or get into it with him. It’s his brother. Not my situation. But then the next day, I heard him talking to Josh and Brandon after practice. They thought they were alone. And Brian said some really awful things …”

“What did he say? He said some pretty horrible things to me, too.”

“No. It was worse. What he joked about doing. The words, some of them, one of them. I’ve never used that word in my life. And I should’ve stepped up, said something right then, and called Brian out. I’m the captain; that’s part of the responsibility. I should’ve talked to Coach. I mentioned it to Tom. He brushed it off, said I should forget about it. Just Brian blowing off steam. You know, locker room talk, Tom said. But that kind of talk—it’s not okay anywhere. I should’ve known better. I did know better. And I did nothing. And now … look what he did to you. What he …”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest.

Phil can’t look me in the eye.

“How did you know that I was in trouble, anyway?”

His voice is strained. “I saw you walking toward the food court when I was on the Demon, so I ditched the guys after and headed back to find you, to talk to you. Then I heard you scream.”

My eyes are wet with tears. I see now that Phil’s are, too. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up. I tried to fight him off—”

“I could’ve ripped Brian’s head off when I saw him hurt you. I should have. I probably would’ve, too, if you hadn’t stopped me. I could’ve prevented it—stopped this whole thing from happening.”