Page 50 of Wildfire
The silence is deafening. It makes me think of Aurora and how she’d never stand for it. She’d fill it with something ridiculous and her cheeks would flush pink and I’d watch her, soaking up every single drop of her sunshine. I wish I hadn’t answered Ethan’s call. I wish I were playing tetherball or football or something, anything, in a place where I don’t have to deal with this.
“You look like you have something to say,” Dad says, his voicehoarse. He looks like shit; he’s bruised and scratched, wires everywhere.
I have so much to say. Every bad thought I’ve ever had about myself. Every risk I didn’t take because I was scared. Every conversation I cut short, too anxious for people to see the real me. Every relationship I didn’t chase because I didn’t want to mess up and let someone down.
“You’ve broken our family and I don’t know how we can fix it.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and the man I know to be angry and bitter looks small beneath the harsh hospital lights. “I know.”
“For a really long time I hoped that the dad I loved was in there somewhere, trapped, but there. I don’t think he is anymore. You’re not the man who taught me to skate or ride a bike. I don’t know you.”
“I know.”
“I’m scared to have the things I want in case I fuck them up, because you’ve made me believe I’m a fuckup—and I hate you for that. I hate you for being everywhere and nowhere all at once.”
“I understand.”
“You’re like a weed. There isn’t one aspect of my life you haven’t invaded and ruined. I couldn’t even get through the summer without you corrupting it. I don’t speak to you. I don’t even read your messages anymore and you’re just there in my head constantly.”
It comes out fast and frantic, but I mean every word and I’m pissed at myself for holding them in for so long. My chest eases with every syllable, the weight holding me down for so many years lightening.
“You deserve better, son.”
He looks so weak in the bed, listening to me vent. “Yeah. I do. So does Mom. Sort your shit out.”
Dad doesn’t shout after me as I stand and leave. My body works on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in to get me as far away fromhim as possible. Ethan can say I’m burying my head in the sand, but I’ve been more honest with Dad in one conversation than anyone has been with him in years. Our family is broken right now, and papering over the cracks doesn’t help any of us.
I don’t register what’s happening or where I’m going until my truck stops in front of my house on Maple Avenue. The familiarity is an immediate comfort and I decide to take a break and process before getting back on the road to camp.
The door isn’t locked when I try it, and when it swings open, the last thing I expect to find is Henry’s bare ass while he’s balls deep in someone on the living room couch.
Chapter SixteenRUSS
THE FRONT DOOR SWINGS OPEN,revealing a now fully dressed Henry. I push off from my truck, avoiding eye contact as I walk past my friend into our house.
I’ve seen Henry’s ass before; it’s kind of a given when you’re on a hockey team. Locker rooms and sharing hotel rooms; it’s nothing new.
That was new.
“I’m sorry, man,” I say, throwing myself into the recliner and not onto the couch I’ll never be sitting on ever again. “I should have given you a heads-up; I didn’t think you’d be here. Is yourguestokay? I didn’t see her if that makes her feel better.”
“Why are you apologizing for coming to your own house?” he says, grabbing us both a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “She’s fine, just a little embarrassed. She’s taking a shower and I found her a moisturizing face mask thing to relax. I’ll check on her after you tell me why you’re in Maple Hills.”
“Family shit. I’ve only arrived today; that’s why I didn’t text to say I was back. I want to shower before I head back to camp.”
“You can’t drive back today,” Henry says. “That’s too much drivingfor one day. Stay tonight, head back in the morning. You want to talk about the family thing?”
I shake my head, dragging my hand through my hair, realizing how tired I am now that I’ve stopped running on adrenaline. “You’re right. I’ll leave first thing. Don’t feel like you’ve gotta hang around for me, though. I’ll go into my room out of the way, just don’t fuck in this chair, all right? This one is my favorite.”
He gives me a strained smile as he stands and moves toward the stairs. “I feel sorry for you if you think any of the surfaces in this house are safe. I’ll spare you the full description of what I walked in on Lola doing to Robbie when he was sitting there.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I can guess.”
“It was a blow job.”
Maybe I’ll sit on the floor. “Fantastic. Listen, I’m pretty beat, I’m going to shower. Maybe have a nap. Is Robbie still in New York?”
“Yeah, he gets back next week. I’ll try and keep the noise down.”
