Chapter 12

“Are you hungry?” I ask Liam the next afternoon at my house. “I’ve been experimenting with carob brownies.”

“I know you have. You forget that I’m a faithful reader.”

I open the oven and peer inside. “So you saw that my blog got ten new followers over the weekend? And real people have started writing in.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’m not real?”

I shoot him a mischievous look. “You weren’t actually interested in my brownies. Speaking of which, where are they?”

“Oh, right. Ethan stole them while you were in the bathroom. He said, ‘This is lunch?’ and then took the entire pan up to his room. Don’t worry about it; I ate at home. We should probably get some work done.”

We’d agreed to study for our chemistry exam that weekend, but after ten minutes of partial pressures my attention drifts. Liam doesn’t put up much of a fight. He seems too tired to care about school today. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his thick hair is matted and limp. I offer him some organic coffee and a plate of the kale and goat cheese patties I’ve been working on. He stares at the greenish brown lumps and reaches out with a brave smile.

“They’re good for your eyesight,” I say, pointing to his glasses. “Not the prettiest of recipes but they’re actually—”

“Delicious!” he finishes. He tosses a second one into his mouth. “It’s too bad they’re…green.”

I shrug. “Ethan calls them yummy goat turds.”

He chokes. “Is that the official name?”

“No, just Ethan’s. He comes up with colorful names for some of my beta tests. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

He nods and takes the plate from me. “So all these wild ideas, the chia seeds and dough made out of mold—”

“Algae.”

“—all this is for your brother? I thought that people with autism are pretty picky about what they eat.”

“He’s very picky in his own way. When he was six, he watched a program about hygiene and food workers. It was a disaster. He refused to eat anything but fruit at first. Nothing processed. Forget about takeout. Finally, he downloaded a tutorial on operating room scrubbing techniques and made me learn it. Since then, he won’t touch anything unless I’ve prepared it. Manny’s the exception because he agreed to do the scrub thing.”

“Wow. Why don’t you just teach him to cook? Take some of the responsibility off your shoulders?”

“Because I like doing it. For a while, my meals felt like the only thing that helped Ethan. My meals and our daily run. I know some people would say that it was the therapy—or just time. But I feel like I’m making a difference with my own hands. I love that.”

“It’s definitely making a difference for me,” he says, handing back the empty plate. “You should consider marketing these.”

“Seriously? Holistic healthy eating in Clarkson? I wouldn’t want to cut in on the burger joints and diner business.”

“You don’t have to stay in Clarkson forever.”

I ignore his comment. I do have to stay in Clarkson. “I offered to cater Kathy’s party,” I tell him. “She was just going to order pizza. But after tasting my ginger ice cream she was really excited about my menu suggestions.”

“So Ethan will agree to eat. That was a good idea.”

“I didn’t do it for Ethan,” I say shortly. “I still don’t think Hope should have invited him.”

“Why not?”

“She’s pushing him too hard and is way out of her depth. And I still don’t understand what she’s getting out of the relationship.”

I shove our books aside, and we move over to the sofa with our coffee mugs. “I mean, I’m trying to be happy for them. I really want to be supportive,” I continue. “But I just don’t get it.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to get it.”

I laugh shortly. “You don’t know me very well, do you?”

“Look, Ethan seems like a great guy to me. He’s intelligent and quiet. Maybe that’s what Hope wants right now.”

I shake my head. “I thought at first that she was like that Pygmalion guy. That Ethan is like this diamond in the rough for her.”

“Really?”

“Okay fine, that’s stupid. But I don’t know what to think! It’s like she’s completely changed her type. She dated Grayson for most of last year. The truth is, none of us really liked him that much. But at least that relationship made sense to me.”

“Grayson treated her like shit,” he says evenly. “Or didn’t you know that?”

I stare at him and place my drink down on the coffee table. “Why do you say that? Did she tell you that? Because she never told me—”

“I don’t know what she told you. But guys gossip about their relationships too. Maybe even more than girls do.”

“But you’re not even close with Grayson and that crowd.”

He shrugs. “A guy will sometimes spill his guts to someone he barely knows. If he thinks that it’ll make him look good.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a pissing contest, Rain. That’s all it is. And between the two of us, I was the obvious loser when it came to girls. I’ve never had a girlfriend, right? So Grayson was more than happy to share all kinds of stuff with me. It was a while ago—back when he and Hope were still dating. He was heading to Missoula, and I offered to split gas if he gave me a ride to my grandmother’s house.”

“What did he say to you?”

He grunts and takes a long sip of his coffee. “Ugh, what didn’t he say?”

“Really? Because I was pretty surprised when they broke up. Hope seemed so happy with him. She kept telling me how in love they were.”

He snorts and looks away. “Maybe she was. But if I had to guess, I’d say they probably broke up soon after Valentine’s Day. Am I right?”

I stare at him. “The day after. How did you know that?”

“Because right before I got out of his car Grayson said, ‘We’ll see if she changes her mind on Valentine’s. Girls always put out then.’”

I’m speechless for a moment. Liam’s eyes are downcast and embarrassed; he fiddles absently with his mug and sloshes the coffee around. “I guess you can figure out what happened—”

“Oh my God.”

“As I said, he treated her like—”

“Shit! Oh, shit! I get it now.”

“Yeah. So either Hope changed her mind, and Grayson got what he wanted, and then dumped her. Or she didn’t change her mind—”

But that isn’t what I’m thinking about at all. “I don’t care what Grayson wanted!” I exclaim. “I mean now I understand why Hope is attracted to Ethan.”

“What do you mean?”

“How did I not see this before? It’s so obvious!”

He glances over my shoulder and lifts his hand. “Rain, maybe you should lower—”

“Ethan is basically like a eunuch to Hope! Like one of those castrated servants they used to guard the harems in ancient times. He won’t touch her, so he can never hurt her—”

“Oh, Jesus, Rain, just quiet down—”

But his warning comes too late. My words have already echoed through the room before I realize what Liam is trying to tell me. I turn around to see my brother standing by the stairwell.

He doesn’t speak at first. His head is down. His hair falls over his forehead to cover his eyes.

There are no words left, absolutely nothing I can say to take it back.

“Efan—” I get up and move toward him.

“That isn’t my name,” he says. There’s no anger in his tone. But I don’t understand what he means; I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me.

“Efan, I’m so sorry—it came out wrong—”

“I said that isn’t my name!” he shouts.

I step back, warm tears pricking my eyes. Beside me, I feel Liam draw closer to me, feel his hand steal slowly into mine. I’m shaking all over, and his firmness steadies me.

I swallow hard and take a deep breath. “Ethan?” The word is just a whisper on my lips. It’s the first time I’ve called my brother by his real name.

I love the sound of it. I want to say his name again. I want him to smile when he hears it.

But he’s gone before I can.

I’m shaking too hard to follow him. I start forward, stumbling toward the stairs, and then I feel Liam grasp my hand as he pulls me back.

“Give him a minute,” he says. “He just needs some space.”

“I have to tell him I didn’t mean it! God, I’m such an idiot.”

I lean against Liam’s shoulder; my cheek brushes against his shirt. I want him to hide me, to comfort me, to tell me sweet lies about how my brother still loves me. I want him to make me feel a little less horrible.

He hesitates for a moment and then draws me close to him and wraps his arms around me. It feels so good, so warm and perfect. I think I must be the most selfish person in the world because I smile through my tears. I hate myself, and I adore Liam, and I didn’t know happiness could be so guilty. “Thank you,” I whisper.

I rest my head against his chest; he smells of spice bodywash and coffee. He bends down and touches his lips against my forehead. I feel a pull… I want so much to lift my lips to his, but I just can’t. I don’t deserve this boy, his warmth, his sweetness. I can’t be happy with him now, not after I’ve just destroyed my brother. “I’m sorry,” I say, more to myself than him.

“He’s coming back,” he tells me.

I twist around to look, and there’s my brother again. His eyes are calm as always. There’s no trace of my own pain in his expression. I gently break Liam’s embrace and move a step away, but one of my arms still rests around his waist. I’m not ready to let him go yet.

“Hello, Liam,” he says, as if he didn’t just see him two minutes before. “I forgot to ask, did you check with Dr. Peters about the surgery?”

Surgery? I wonder, but I know better than to say anything out loud.

“Yes,” Liam answers. “Next Wednesday works for him. I’ll pick you up at four thirty. I’ll have my father’s pickup, so I can drive you.”

What is going on? I want to ask. What surgery are they talking about? “But we run at four—” I blurt out, and stop, embarrassed. We run at four? Damn, I sound exactly like my brother.

His eyes rest on me for a second, and then he turns his attention back to Liam. “We run at four,” he echoes.

“I know,” Liam replies. “But it’s the only time he can do it. It’s your choice, Ethan.”

He seems to consider for a moment, but only a moment. “I have to go to the surgery,” he tells me. “So we can’t run on Wednesday.”

Who is this person? Something inside me sinks, and the tears that Liam dried spring back into my eyes. I should be happy I’m getting the afternoon off, that for the first time in two years I can leave my running shoes in the closet. But I’m miserable at the thought. Is this my punishment for what I just said about him? Is this how he’s getting back at me?

“Okay.” It’s embarrassing how weepy I’m getting over this, and I hastily brush my hand over my cheeks.

There’s a flicker of concern in Ethan’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. His brow furrows. “I made you cry.”

“You didn’t—”

“Because I canceled our run. I’m sorry. You can come with us to the hospital if you want. We’re going to watch a cholecystectomy.”

I still have no idea what he’s talking about, and not just because I don’t know what the word means. All that registers is that Ethan is apologizing to me, when it should be the other way around.

“He’s only given permission for the two of us, Ethan. And I don’t know if Rain wants to watch a gallbladder operation,” Liam suggests.

“You’re going to an operating room?”

Ethan nods happily. “Liam knows a surgeon in Missoula County Hospital. He showed him some of my anatomy sketches, and the doctor wants to meet me. He said I can watch the surgery with the medical students. We’ll be behind a glass window, but I’ll be able to see it all live!” He flashes us a brilliant smile. “It will be so much better than watching it on the laptop. And then afterward I can ask questions.”

“But, Ethan,” I falter. “You won’t like the hospital. It can get pretty noisy—”

“I know that,” he says. “But I don’t have a choice.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. I can’t do surgeries in my house.”

“What?”

“Surgery has to be done in a sterile room,” he explains patiently, “with anesthesia equipment and nursing staff. So that’s where I have to do them.”

I stare silently at my brother and then turn helplessly to Liam.

“I think what Ethan is trying to say,” he tells me, “is that he wants to be a surgeon one day.”

A surgeon? I’m not sure how to respond to this. There’s a million things I want to ask, of course. Have you actually thought this through, Ethan? How many years of school is that? How many new people will you have to meet and talk to, how many giant classrooms, how many bright lights, how many overwhelming sounds?

But there’s only one thing I do say: “You’ll be a great surgeon, Ethan.”

He nods. “I know.”