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Kade’s twin.
He made an appearance last Thanksgiving, but he mostly stayed anywhere I wasn’t. He hung out with his dad and mine for a while in the garage, then he moved to the kitchen with his mom and Addie, their former housekeeper, and then he walked outside, playing with his and Kade’s little sister, A.J., for a while. He didn’t talk much. Almost like we were all strangers to him and didn’t share a thousand memories together.
It was so uncomfortable. Our dads are stepbrothers, and they were best friends long before that. I grew up with Hunter.
But I can’t say his leaving, and transferring schools, was entirely a surprise. He and Kade had always been at odds while growing up, and one day Hunter just broke.
But why did he leave me too? He didn’t meet my eyes once when he came for Thanksgiving.
And he didn’t stay long. Without a word, he was gone. Back to his grandfather’s house an hour away, and St. Matt’s, his new school. I scroll, seeing a picture I sent him of a movie poster.
NewFastmovie tonight at eight! I’m sneaking in your favorite candy.
I hoped that maybe in a dark theater where we didn’t have to talk, he might just come and sit, and maybe we could smile and laugh a little.
He never showed.
I ate your candy, I texted him the next day.
Months passed, and I got the hint. He didn’t want to talk.
Fine, then.
He had my number. I tried. If he wants to be friends again, he knows where I am.
But there were days that I couldn’t ignore.
Happy Birthday!!
I wrote in August on his and Kade’s eighteenth birthday, accompanied by a celebratory GIF.
He didn’t text back. He leaves theReadreceipts on, though. Kade says it’s because Hunter wants us to know that he’s deliberately ignoring us. I think it’s because he wants us to know that he’s okay. If there’s no indication that communications are getting through, then we’ll come looking for him. He wants that even less than our texts.
Kade had a pool party for his birthday and had all of his friends tag Hunter in pictures, because Kade wanted his twin to know he was living the high life without him.
That’s when Hunter deleted his social media.
Hawke and his girlfriend are going to Chicago for a concert. I’m tagging along. Wanna meet up?
I sent that a few weeks ago. Maybe on his turf, without the reminders of home, he’d want to see me? Fat chance. The only way I really see him anymore is through pictures, when his parents see him and post on their own profiles.
He was in St. Matthew’s alumni magazine last May, just a picture of current students, including him, hunched overlab tables. He was working alone. I didn’t show Kade the picture.
I look down and see the text I started to type out last week when I found out what Kade was planning for tonight.
I nee—
But I’d stopped typing, because why should I warn him? What have I gotten from Hunter or Kade Caruthers for my loyalty?
I raise my eyes, seeing Kade look up at me. My heart skips the tiniest beat. He’s looking at me. I know, because the only thing he ever notices about me anymore is my absence. That’s when I matter.
Backing away from the podium, he lets the coach finish up, and then he throws up his arms at me like “why isn’t your ass in the bleachers hanging on my every word like the rest of our family?”
I fold my arms over my chest and bring a hand up, feigning a yawn. His smile widens, and I can see his body shake with a chuckle.
“Fuck it.” I tuck my phone into my pocket again. I’ll go tonight, because I’m bored. Not because I’m curious.
Leaving the locker room, I jog back down the hallway, past the display case, the men’s locker room, and the cafeteria. If I can get out of here before the rally ends, I can get home, grab my car, and be gone again before my dad sees me. Or my muddy motorcycle.
