The sun is shining; the wind off the river is a perfect forty-five degrees; my heart is aflutter with thoughts of Gavin; Kade and I have called a truce; and my professor likes what I’ve written. I dare say the feeling I’m experiencing is called happiness.

“You whore,” Jenna whispers when she sees my grade on our last submission. “You got an A on your last submission?”

I nod, shushing her. Professor Marceaux is doing her daily strut. That’s what I call it. The focal point of this woman’s body is her hips, which she points to the far reaches of the earth as she walks. It reminds me of the catwalk models do, but this is more organic somehow, like she was birthed from erotic sculptures that infused sexuality through her all the way down to her toes. Watching her as she passes out the revised syllabus, I realize she’d make a great character. Inspired, I jot down a few notes in my journal before I lose the vision.

I’m marveling at my good turn of luck, at my ability to take things in stride, at how far I’ve come, when it all comes crashing down.

Clenching my eyes shut, I try to get a grip before I totally freak out. Jenna’s quick intake of breath tells me she sees it too. When I open my eyes, my name is still there on the paper in front of me. My roommate nudges me, and when I turn to her, the lump in my throat rises.

“Our class is critiquing your book.” Her words, a mixture of praise and worry, seize the very core of me.

I nod infinitesimally, barely able to breathe.

* * *

I’m hot and sticky. I smell. Running hasn’t purged me of all my nervous energy, but it’s helped. I’ve been pumping myself with positive thoughts for the last hour. Harper is always telling me the fear of a situation is worse than the reality. I hope she’s right and that I don’t pass out in the middle of class or piss my pants next week when we critique my book.

I open the door to our apartment and stop short. Gavin and Ryan are hanging out with Jenna and Dani.

“Hi, guys.” I wave, embarrassed that I look like crap, but the grin on Gavin’s face damn near makes me forget my name.

“Good! You’re back!” Jenna proclaims. “You looked pretty pissed when you left, so I wasn’t sure if you’d be out running a marathon. You have time for a quick shower before the pizza gets here.”

Gavin gets up to hug me, but I put up both hands to stop him.

“I’m sweaty.”

He grabs me anyway and whispers, “Not a problem in my book, darlin’.” I crack a smile. “Is everything okay? Why were you upset?” His eyes are full of concern as his hands grip my shoulders.

“It’s a long story. Can I tell you later?” I’m just starting to get a handle on everything, and I don’t feel like rehashing it right now.

He nods, kissing my forehead and then smacking his lips. “You’re salty.”

I laugh, pushing him away. “I warned you.”

When I emerge from the steamy bathroom fifteen minutes later, I grab a slice of pizza and sit next to Gavin as Harper walks in the front door.

“Look who I found loitering outside,” she says. “This bum claims he’s your brother.”

Behind her, Jax struts in carrying a large cardboard box. I haven’t seen him since that horrid afternoon at Ryan's house. Jax's hair is longer than he usually keeps it, but he’s tanned and sleek like a panther, brimming with that overconfident edge he’s always had.

“Hey, loser,” he says, placing the box on the coffee table next to the pizza.

“Hey, yourself.” As I eye the box, a knot forms in my stomach. I stare at my name on the side, written in my brother’s blocky handwriting. “I told you I didn’t want this.”

I get up and walk to the micro-fridge to grab some paper towels. My brother sighs at me. It’s one of those long, drawn-out sighs that reminds me of our mother.

“She was throwing away all of your shit. I know you don’t care about it now, but you might someday.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he laughs as he turns to my roommates. “You’d never know this girl was prom queen.” I give him a look, and he shakes his head. “Wait, you were homecoming queen too.”

“Jax, I never cared about that,” I say, ducking into my room. Although homecoming was fun, I only got voted prom queen because everyone felt sorry for me. It was so fucking humiliating. My face gets hot thinking about it.

My brother follows behind me and grips the top of the doorframe.

“Exactly. That’s why you were so popular.”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “I was popular because I was dating the 'star quarterback.'“

My brother ignores my sarcasm. “That’s not why. Clem, before all that shit went down with Daren, you were the coolest girl I knew. You were the party. You could make anything fun. I miss that girl. I miss my sister.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” I say grimly.

Jax is quiet, and I don’t remember why I came in here, but seeing my brother in the doorway, blocking my exit, makes me claustrophobic.

He clears his throat. “You know, Daren still feels really bad about what happened.”

I glare at him. After all this time, my brother finally wants to talk about it? “Why are you telling me this? Do you still think I’m hung up on Daren?”

“I don’t know. You haven’t dated anyone since high school, and I know you loved him. I just want you to get over it and have a life again. I mean, you stopped running track, you never go out, you hardly have any friends.”

I’ve decided that my brother is a certifiable asshole. I throw up my hands in frustration.

“What do you even know about me, Jackson? I lost my track scholarship, so I’ve had to work my ass off to pay for my tuition. My professor attacked me when I was a freshman. I’d say I’m doing pretty damn well considering.”

His blue eyes widen, and he stammers, “I… I didn’t know any of that.”

A gaping silence settles between us. I don’t bother bringing up how my freshman-year roommate freaked out on me because of my brother and his man-whoring ways.

“What do you mean your professor attacked you?” Jax looks pale, and his jaw is clenched.

I shake my head, my chest flooded with the dark buzz of panic. This is how an attack starts. I suck in a few deep breaths, forcing myself to focus on my brother’s scuffed shoe.

“Fucking hell, Clementine. Who is this asshole?”

My eyes shift up. The vein in Jax’s temple is the only movement in his tightly coiled body.

“Forget about it. There’s nothing you can do.” Or could do. Even if Jax had known back then, the end result would have been the same, right? “I’m fine now.” Not so much back then.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The pain in his voice cuts through me.

My heart sinks at the answer. Does he really want to hear this? Can I even say it? I lick my dry lips.

“You didn’t back me up with Daren.” The words are a whisper. “Why would you care about this?”

Jax winces, and I keep going. “Our parents didn’t seem to care.” The laugh that escapes me is tinged with resentment. “You know, they don’t pay for my shit like they pay for yours,” I say, eying his perfectly cut leather jacket.

Sweat breaks out on my forehead. I wish he’d leave and take that damn box with him. 

My brother always thinks he has the answers. We used to be so close. Inseparable. But now, as I stare at a face I know as well as my own, I realize we haven’t known each other for a long time.

“Jax, if you think what happened with Daren is what broke me, you don’t know me at all.”

“Then what was it? What happened? Is it what went down with your professor?”

I tilt my head, wondering how my twin can be so clueless. “The people I trusted most betrayed me. Mom and Dad… and you.”

His eyes narrow. “How? How did I betray you? Because Daren is my best friend?”

Jax wants to go there? Fine.

I take a step closer to him and look him eye to eye, my heart beating in my throat. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. Taking a breath, I try again.

“When did you find out Daren was sleeping with Veronica?”

His eyes dart away as a mixture of emotions—anger, guilt, shame—cross his face. He swallows.

“Exactly. You knew, and you didn’t tell me.” Dick.

He closes his eyes. “I almost broke his jaw.”

My head snaps toward him. “What?”

“I almost broke Daren’s jaw when I found out.” His eyes are still closed.

Thinking back to that spring, I remember Daren getting injured at a training camp the week before I broke up with him.

“He said he got hurt in a scrimmage.”

His eyes slide up to meet mine. “Yeah. A scrimmage with my fist.”

The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. This whole time I thought Jax had known and done nothing.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches. “You’re my sister. Daren is like my brother. Deep down, I had this crazy idea that you two would end up together, and I was afraid to get in the middle. I’m not gonna lie—I was going through my own shit back then, so I know I wasn’t the best brother. I didn’t notice when Daren started sneaking around with that cunt.”

I flinch at my brother’s choice of words, realizing for the first time that he hates Veronica, probably on my behalf.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath.

“When I first found out he was cheating on you, I didn’t want to believe it, but the rumors wouldn’t go away, so I confronted him. And when we were done with that conversation, he knew he needed to man up and sort out his shit and talk to you. Only you figured it out first.”

I blink back hot tears that threaten to spill over.

“Clem, you must have thought I’d gone on with my friendship with him like nothing happened, but it took a few years to get past it.” Jax shifts in the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest. “And I know he still feels like shit over what he did to you. That helps.”

We stand on opposite sides of the room, and I’m too overwhelmed to speak. His eyes fall on the moving box.

“Look,” he says softly, “I know Mom has been hard on you, but I think she misses you.”

I know he doesn’t believe that, but it’s the kind of lie we’ve always told ourselves. Mom wanted to come to the game, but she had a meeting. Dad missed a flight home from Paris because he got stuck in traffic. They didn’t mean to forget our birthday.

But I’m no longer twelve and in desperate need of their approval, and hearing that bullshit now snaps something inside of me. “She sure has a fucked-up way of showing it. Nothing says I love you like ‘take your shit before I toss it on the street.’”

“You’re not being fair. You haven’t called either of them or gone to see them…” He’s saying the right words, but not even Jax can put any conviction behind it.

I should be sad that he talks about our parents as though our father didn’t disappear to another continent without a second thought. Or as though our mother is any kind of maternal figure. But I’m too pissed to go along with the charade.

“Are you serious right now?” I’ve avoided this conversation with him for three years, but now all of my carefully clamped-down emotion is at the surface, hot and bubbling like lava. “Did you ever wonder how I lost my state meet after I won all the others my senior year? How I barely eked out a fifth-place finish when my practice times could have beaten every girl that day?”

Jax shrugs.

“Mom found out I had broken up with Daren that morning. I was walking out the door, and she told me it was my fault Daren cheated on me because I should have slept with him months ago. She said, ‘Why do you think I put you on the pill?’ Then she said she was late for a meeting and left.”

The emotion of this conversation catches up with me, and tears stream down my face.

“So did Daren break my heart? Yes. Did he hurt me by hooking up with my best friend? Yes. But you have no idea how humiliating it is to have the whole school know that your boyfriend is getting blow jobs in the weight room and your own brother knows and doesn’t tell you, or that your mother doesn’t care that her daughter is dating an asshole.”

I put on a sweatshirt and sniffle.

“Jax, I get that you didn’t know what to do, but you should have told me. If you had, maybe I wouldn’t have found them fucking in his bed.”

His eyes widen as more tears fall down my cheeks.

“They didn’t know I had walked in. Not that either would have cared.”

My body starts to move, and I have only a vague awareness of what I’m doing. The running shoes slip on, and my fingers tie the laces.

Jax clears his throat.

“Clementine, I’m so sorry. For everything, I—”

I get up and push past him into the living room where I come to a dead halt when I see everyone looking at me. Fuck. When my eyes meet Gavin’s, I look down. My heart thunders in my chest. God damn it.

“I’m going for another run,” I say as I walk out. When I reach the bottom of the stairwell, I’m vaguely aware that someone is calling my name, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, I think as I head out onto the dark street.

* * *

The living room is quiet. I tiptoe into my room and find Harper asleep on my bed. The creak of my door wakes her, and she yawns before she registers what’s going on.

“Hey, you’re back. I saved you some pizza. Actually, Gavin did. He wants you to call him. He’d still be here, but he had a late shift tonight at the dorm.”

“I’m okay, Harper. You don’t need to babysit me.” I can barely kick off my running shoes much less eat a slice of pizza.

“I know I don’t, but I didn’t want you to come home to an empty room.” She starts to stretch and then frowns. “Clem, Jax is wrong. You have friends.”

The thought that the whole world heard the argument I had with my brother makes me nauseous.

“You guys heard everything?” Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they only heard snippets here and there.

She nods, looking apologetic. “Your door was open. It was hard to miss.”

I smile weakly. “What can I say? Jax and I bring out the best in each other.”

“I know you’re pissed at him, but he loves you. He wouldn’t have taken the time to pack up your stuff and bring it to you if he didn’t care. What he did to you in high school was totally shitty, and I get that, but he grew up in the same screwed-up family you did. You can’t exactly expect flowers to bloom in the desert.”

I grin through my fatigue. “That was some nice metaphorical language there, Harps.”

As she gets up, I collapse on the bed, too tired to shower and too numb to care.

“Don’t you want to call Gavin?”

“Not really.” In fact, that’s the last thing I want to do.

“Can I offer my unsolicited opinion?”

I mumble into my pillow, “Will you stop talking if I say no?”

“Probably not.” She takes the silence as my acquiescence, but exhaustion prevents my mouth from moving. “Don’t shut Gavin out. You tend to cut people out of your life when you get scared or overwhelmed. I think you’re afraid of being judged. Give Gavin a little more credit.”

“Thanks, Doctor. How much do I owe you for our session?” I should be grateful she’s a psych major.

She swats me on the leg for being a smartass. “Clem, we love you.”

“I know. I love you too, nosey.”

She chuckles as she shuts my door.