Chapter 24

“So Kathy agreed to wait,” I tell Liam as he drives me home the next day after school. “I told her to give Marcus a little more time.”

He nods absently and gives me a sidelong glance. “That’s good. And you’re feeling okay?”

“Absolutely.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. I turn my head away and close my eyes. I have been fine all day, but I’m getting tired of faking healthy cheeriness and a hearty appetite. Lunch was unbearable. He actually refused half of my food and insisted I finish it. Never mind that I’d packed my usual double portion and his favorite goat cheese balls.

I know what he’s worried about. I’m not an idiot. But I don’t want to keep talking about the fact that I had one bout of queasiness.

To stave off further questions, I pretend to go to sleep during the five-minute ride home from school.

There’s an ambulance parked in the driveway of my house when we pull up. I can sense its presence by the flashing behind my eyelids and Liam’s surprised “oh!” as we round the corner.

I jump from the truck and sprint across the yard before Liam even has a chance to stop the car.

My mom is sitting on a gurney and arguing with the paramedic, a large, balding man who keeps mopping his sweaty brow with his sleeve and sighing.

Ethan appears behind me. “Hello, Rain. Hello, Liam.”

“Why is Mom in an ambulance?”

“She fainted again.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “I just got up too fast.”

“We need to make a decision here,” the sweaty EMT says. “Are you going to allow us to take you to the hospital or not?”

“No!”

“Why is there even a question?” I say. “She needs to go to the hospital.”

“We can’t take an adult to the ER against her will.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mom insists.

“That’s fine,” I retort. “Ethan, call Dad. Tell him that Mom is sick and we need him.”

“Rain!” she shouts.

“Do it, Ethan.” My brother draws his phone out of his pocket.

I don’t care if I’m betraying my mother. She’s betrayed herself by refusing her pills. This is my last card, and I’m playing it.

“Fine,” she hisses, sitting back against the gurney. “I’ll go.”

Ethan doesn’t come with us this time. Mom’s patience with him has faded since he’s become a walking fountain of colon knowledge. Shockingly he doesn’t argue when she insists he stay home. “You two can take turns visiting me,” she assures him.

It takes less time to get Mom situated for her second hospitalization; she’s in the same ward as before, just two doors down from her former room. The whole thing is depressingly repetitive, and I feel guilty for the relief that washes over me when I finally head home.

When I get home, Ethan isn’t waiting for me. I run up the stairs and tap gently on his door.

Marcus and Ethan are sitting on the rug facing each other. They look up as I enter and motion me inside. “It’s fine,” Marcus says. “You can come in. The more the merrier.”

I settle down across from him. “You okay? I haven’t seen you since the Halloween party.”

“Nobody has,” he admits sadly. “I’ve kind of been hiding. But I thought I owed Ethan an explanation. I owe a lot of people an explanation. So I figured I might as well start here.”

“We’ve all been worried about you. Kathy—”

He flinches when I say her name. “Yeah, I know everyone’s been worried. My parents started freaking out when I wouldn’t leave my room.”

“Did you finally tell them?”

“God, no!” he exclaims. “Never! They think I’m depressed because I broke up with my girlfriend. When I wouldn’t talk to them, they threatened to have me committed unless I got some help. So I’ve been spending some time at a mental health center. I’ve got a therapist now. Two, actually.”

I laugh shortly. “Wow. How’s that going?”

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Well, the first one said I’ve made a lot of progress but that I was still ‘holding something back.’ Ha. No shit, Sherlock.”

“And the second one?”

“She gave me pills. Two different ones. They didn’t help. Obviously.”

“Oh. Still gay then, are you?”

He laughs, and his face relaxes. “Yeah. Tiny bit.”

“You should tell them that you’re gay,” Ethan says. “Your parents will be happy to know that you’re not depressed.”

“You think?” he retorts sarcastically. “You want me as a roommate, then? Because that’s exactly what will happen.”

Ethan doesn’t reply. He shoots me a confused look, but I shake my head.

“Everyone says that,” I point out. “But maybe they’re different. Maybe it’ll just take some time. You know they love you.”

“You don’t get it, Rain.” He exhales and closes his eyes. “This isn’t some talk show. That’s not my life, okay? I’m not worried that they’ll kill me. I’m worried it’s going to kill them.”

“Marcus—”

“No, I’m serious.” He looks up at me and his dark eyes fill. “My dad’s in his sixties. He’s been diabetic forever; he’s gone through two bypasses and then, a couple of years ago, a ministroke. And my mother… My mom hasn’t been the same since my sister died. Or so they tell me.”

Ethan leans over to me. “She had pneumonia and took too much medication,” he informs me.

Marcus shakes his head. “That’s what they told people afterward. But she did it on purpose. My father’s heart pills. Twenty of them.”

“Oh, God. How long ago?” I ask.

“Before I was born. I was kind of a…replacement, I guess.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Honestly, most days I’d rather die than tell them the truth and hurt them like that. Even if it means lying to everybody forever.”

“But what about Kathy? You should have been honest with her.”

He puts his head in his hands. “I’ve been lying to myself almost as long as I’ve been lying to Kathy. When I finally came to terms with it, I realized I had to tell her. I’d been planning to talk to her months ago; I had the whole speech prepared and everything. Then one evening I came downstairs and found Kathy chatting with my mom. My mother worships her, you know—treats her like her own daughter, always has. Anyway, I overheard them talking.” He takes a ragged breath, lifts his tear-stained face. “My mom must have had a bit too much wine because she normally never mentions my sister. But that night she was patting Kathy on the arm and saying, ‘Chloe is such a beautiful name, don’t you think? Such a perfect name. Maybe one day, you and Marcus, if you have a girl—”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah. And then Kathy smiled and hugged her—and promised. I was standing there in the shadows, wishing I was dead, and my girlfriend was promising to name our future child after my dead sister.”

“Kathy was only trying to be nice. To make your mother happy.”

“Oh, I know that. But do you understand now why I couldn’t tell anyone—even the person I love the most?”

“You still love her?”

“Of course I love her! She’s my best friend.”

“Then you should talk to her,” Ethan says.

He sighs and rubs his swollen eyes. “And say what? I’ve ruined her life.”

“You want to be her friend?”

“Of course.”

“Then tell her that you want to be her friend,” my brother replies. “But you don’t want to have sex with her.”

“Ethan!” I exclaim. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Why not?” he asks. “One day Kathy might meet a guy who does want to have sex with her. And one day so will Marcus. But right now I think Kathy just misses you.”

We’re both struck dumb, Marcus and I, and for a moment no one says anything.

“If Hope broke up with me,” Ethan persists, “I would miss her. And we’ve never had sex. We’ve never kissed. But I’d still miss talking to her. That’s how I know.”

Marcus nods, his eyes fixed on Ethan’s earnest expression. “I just don’t know what to say, how to start—”

“Then do it in pieces.”

“What?”

“When I feel overwhelmed by something I have to do,” Ethan explains. “Like checking off one of the items on my dad’s list, for example, most of the time, I can’t handle the entire task. I can’t walk into a party and talk to my girlfriend like you can. So my father said that I should break it into pieces. I know that I can get out of the car. I can walk across the lawn. I can say hello. I can sit down. And then I can listen to her. I can do each of those things. One at a time. That’s how you have to think about it.”

“One thing at a time? Walk up to her.” He smiles to himself. “And just say her name.”

“Yes. Just say her name.”

I watch quietly as Marcus considers the suggestion. It’s good advice, I realize. Better than anything I could have come up with. Ethan isn’t just parroting polite responses, as I’d taught him. This isn’t a show of fake empathy. My brother is actually using his own challenges to help my friend cope. I could never have taught him that.

Marcus sighs. “It’s not that easy, you know. I feel like I’ve been playing a part forever. You can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Ethan doesn’t reply for a moment. His fingers play nervously with one another. A thick lock of hair falls forward but I catch a glimpse of his expression before it covers his face. He looks unhappy—almost resentful. “But you don’t have to play a part anymore,” my brother says quietly. “You can tell people who you are and eventually most of them will accept you.”

“Maybe. Eventually.”

“Well, you’re lucky,” Ethan murmurs. “Because it’s exhausting to be different. Especially when you know that you can never stop pretending.”