The Edge of Everything (The Edge of Everything #1)(51)

Zoe had never withheld anything from Val before. She told herself she wasn’t lying about anything significant. Where X was from and what he was didn’t matter as much as who he was—how he’d woken her whole life up and helped her set aside some of her pain. All this from a guy who had never been given anything ever.

She pulled up to the house, and turned off the ignition. The Buggy bucked and chortled even after she and Val slammed the doors and walked away.

Before they could make it up the steps, Rufus stepped outside. He looked weirdly serious. Was something wrong with Jonah? Zoe had to fight an impulse to push past Rufus and run into the house.

“Just wanted to give you a heads-up,” Rufus said. “Oh, hey, Val, what’s shakin’?”

“Hey,” said Val.

“Talk, Rufus,” said Zoe. “You’re scaring me.”

“No, no, no, it’s all good, it’s all good,” he said. “I mean, it’s mostly good. I mean, honestly, it’s not great. The little guy’s just super-super-bummed. Like in shock, almost. I couldn’t get him out of the house at all. Not even a step. He just froze up. He’s in real bad shape.”

Zoe groaned.

“He wouldn’t go outside after our dad died,” she said. “I’m not going through that again. I’ll give him some tough love.”

“Actually,” said Rufus, “I think that might just make things worse.”

Zoe ignored him. She liked Rufus, but didn’t need him telling her what was best for her own brother.

“It’s okay, I can fix this,” she said. “Jonah just got really tight with that guy X I introduced you to.”

Val couldn’t help but interrupt: “Rufus got to meet X, but I didn’t? What kind of hot garbage is that?”

“The musician dude?” said Rufus. “Supercool guy. Epic hair. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to talk about his musical inspirations, or whatever. I’m an artist, too. I get it. You gotta blaze your own trail.”

Rufus scratched at his bushy reddish beard, which he allowed to go wild in the winter. It was currently edging perilously close to his eyes.

“But, see, this isn’t about X anymore, I don’t think,” he said.

“It is,” said Zoe impatiently. “I know my brother.”

Rufus shook his head, and his fledgling dreads swung back and forth. His stubbornness surprised her. In her experience, he disliked confrontation and would go with the flow no matter where the flow happened to be headed.

“Look, we talked about X,” he said. “And honestly? I think him taking off was a bigger deal for you than for Jonah. Jonah liked him, heck yeah. He’s bummed he split, heck yeah. But this stuff—the crying and the shell shock and the not leaving the house—this stuff is deeper than that. This thing’s got roots like a big-ass tree. This is about something else now.”

The front door opened. Jonah hovered near the threshold. He had his shoes on, which could have meant something—or nothing.

“I want to talk to you,” he told Zoe. “I have a question.”

He was a single step away from the outside world. A wind came up and rattled the storm door in its frame.

“I can’t hear you,” said Zoe. “Come closer.”

Rufus shook his head and leaned toward her. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he whispered. “I tried this.”

Zoe ignored him. Why hadn’t he left already? She waited for her brother to answer.

“No,” said Jonah. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not trying to do anything, bug. I just can’t hear you.”

Rufus turned away, as if he didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

“He’s just not ready,” he said. “You’re playing with matches.”

“Stop it, Rufus,” Zoe said under her breath. “You’re not his sister.”

Jonah eyed them all suspiciously.

“I have to talk to you, Zoe,” he said again. “Because of my question.”

“Just come out on the steps,” she said. “You can go right back inside.”

Val put her hand on Zoe’s shoulder.

“Maybe Rufus is right?” she said.

Zoe gave Val a look: You, too? She focused on Jonah again. He was leaning against the door, his hair flattened into a fan.

He pushed the door infinitesimally forward.

Come on, that’s right, thought Zoe. Come on, just do it, you little shit.

He pulled it shut again.

“You’re trying to trick me,” he said.

“I’m not, bug.”

“Don’t call me bug when you’re trying to trick me.”

“Look, if you can’t come out on the steps for two seconds, then let’s talk later. Your question can’t be very important.”

“I want to know—”

“Later, Jonah.”

She hated being cruel, but someone had to get tough with the kid or he was going to turn into a shut-in. When somebody was scared of the water, weren’t you supposed to just throw them in the pool? Wasn’t that a thing? If it wasn’t, it should be.

“You stopped calling me bug,” said Jonah. “That means you were trying to trick me. You didn’t use to try to trick me.”