Page 263 of What We Brave
"So." She's got her hands pressed between her knees. Shouldersrounded. Making herself smaller. "I need to tell you guys something about the trip."
"Okay," Reid says. Easy. Open. His on-the-job voice — someone's scared and he needs them to keep talking.
I wait.
"My parents—" She stops. Starts again. "When I told my parents we were coming, I didn't — I wasn't completely honest with them. About us."
"What do you mean?" Reid asks.
"They know about you, Reid." She's looking at her knees. "They know he's my boyfriend. But they don't know about the three of us. About what we are." Her jaw works. "They think Blake is Reid's friend. That's what I told them. That Reid was bringing a friend."
Reid's friend.
The words land but they don't connect. Not right away. It's like my brain can't process that shit.
"I was going to tell them," she says, faster now, filling the silence. "I've been trying to find the right time, but with their faith, their community, everything they believe — I kept trying to figure out the right way to?—"
My chest locks up. The air in the room goes thin.
I bought a linen shirt. I stood in a fucking fitting room and let her pick out clothes so I’d look right for her father.
"Every time I asked about your parents," I say. My voice is completely flat. "Every time I brought up how they'd handle this. You said it would be fine."
She flinches.
"You saidit'll be fine, Blake.You said that. Multiple times."
"I know?—"
"Were you ever planning to tell them?"
"Yes. In person. I want to tell them face to face, with you there so they can see?—"
"So I show up. And for how long am I Reid's friend?" My jaw aches from how hard my teeth are locked together.Reid's friend.Back in the box. Back on the outside.
"A few days. Until I find the right?—"
"Jesus, Laine." Reid's voice cuts in. Frustrated. Tight. Not the big voice—the real one. "You told me you were going to handle this. You said you had aplan."
The hum of the AC unit is suddenly the loudest thing in the house.
I stop breathing.
You told me you were going to handle this.
A cold, heavy weight drops straight through my stomach. The floor under my boots doesn't feel solid anymore. I stare at the wood grain between my feet. I sanded those boards. I know every groove.
I don't want to look up. If I look up, it's real. Now would be the perfect time to stick my head in the sand and pretend none of this shit is happening.
I wish that were an option.
I turn my head. Slowly.
"You knew."
It's not a question. Reid's face tells me everything — the way his mouth opens and closes, the way his eyes go wide with the realization of what just came out of his mouth.
"Blake—"
