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We rip apart and shove to our feet. Before I can get a handle on what’s happening, Morgan is charging Rhett, tackling him, knocking his brother to the ground. He pulls his arm back and swings, fist connecting with Rhett’s face. “What are you doing? You don’t get to touch him! He’s mine.” Morgan punches him again.
Whiskey tries to climb up my throat. I want to move, make every attempt to, but it’s like my limbs don’t work, like my feet grew roots and I can’t pull them out of the ground.
“Morgan, get off him. It’s not what it looked like.” But it is what it looked like. Rhett and I were kissing, and Morgan saw.
He turns to me, and it’s the distraction Rhett needs. He flips them, and this time it’s him holding Morgan down, punching him. My heart is hitting my chest just as hard as they’re hitting each other, but I finally get myself to move, lunging at Rhett and knocking him off Morgan. “What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” I shout.
Morgan pushes to his feet, both Rhett and I still on the ground. He spits the blood from his mouth. “Fuck you, Rhett. You did that on purpose. You kissed him because you knew it would hurt me.”
“Or maybe I just want him and he wants me. It was a hot fucking kiss,” Rhett sneers.
The thin restraint Morgan had comes undone, and he charges Rhett again. I manage to throw myself between them, and Morgan stops, not putting his hands on me. Not fighting me.
“Get out of the way, Dust.”
“No.” I put my hand on his chest, but he rips away from me.
“Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you…” He runs a hand through his hair, tugs the strands, shakes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what happened.” I want to tell him I would be his if he wanted me, that I wished he cared because the thought of someone else having me was like physical pain, the way it felt when I thought of others having him, but the only reason he cares that I kissed someone tonight is because that person was Rhett. Any other man wouldn’t have mattered because Morgan only loves me as a friend.
“Fuck you, Dusty. And fuck you too, Rhett. The two of you can have each other.”
He starts walking away. I reach out and grab his arm, but Morgan pulls free. “I can’t do this with you. Don’t talk to me. Don’t follow me. You chose him.”
Morgan leaves us standing there alone.
The hole inside me grows. “Fuck!” I shout until my throat is on fire again. “Why the hell did you kiss me?”
“You kissed me.” Rhett wipes the blood from his mouth and stands. “I’m not… I haven’t… I’m not into guys.”
Did I kiss him first? Hell, I don’t even know. Does it even matter?
“I’m not him,” Rhett adds, looking away.
My world spins, feels like the ground is disappearing from beneath me. “I know,” I snap. “We’re not like that. He’s my best friend.”
“So that’s me you wanted to kiss just now?”
I look away because it wasn’t. We both know I was kissing Morgan.
“Why did you kiss me back? You said you’re not even queer.”
“We both know why.”
Rhett hadn’t been lying. For a moment, just a moment, he wanted to want me because he knew it would hurt Morgan. And I’d kissed Rhett because I couldn’t have Morgan. The Swifts weren’t the only ones who were a mess.
“What’s wrong with me? I can’t… I gotta go.”
“Rhett!” I call out as he walks away. I say his name again, but he doesn’t answer, and I don’t follow.
I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. That it was one stupid moment and didn’t mean anything.
Tears spring to my eyes as I fall against the lighthouse again, crying and drinking until my world goes black. I wake up with the sun high in the sky the next morning, the night before pummeling me.
The first thing I do is lose everything in my gut, bend over and just vomit it all out right there.
Then I run…I’m sweaty, chest tight, breaths fighting to get out of my lungs when I stumble onto the Swifts’ porch. Rhett is sitting on the swing at the end, recently showered and dressed, with a fat lip and a black eye.
