Alex groans, covering his ears with his good hand and his cast. “Nope. Shut up. I do not need details about whatever gross shit you got up to.”
“Relax. I wasn’t gonna give you the play-by-play. Just… you know. Things are good.”
“TMI, dude. Seriously,” he says with a sound that lets me know he’s disgusted, and I laugh, a real one that shakes out of me easily. Alex smiles too, wide and dimpled, the kind I used to see on him all the time before everything went to hell.
It’s good to see again.
And then my phone ruins it by buzzing in my pocket.
My stomach sinks when I see who it is. I hit decline and set it facedown on the counter.
“Who was that?”
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. This is thelastthing I want to talk about right now. “Police station. They’ve been calling me, wanting a statement from you. I’ve been holding them off, but they’re not gonna wait forever.”
Alex stands up straight, attempting to cross his arms. “I’m not doing that.”
“Alex—”
“No!” He slams his hand against the counter, the sound cracking through the kitchen. “I’m not sitting in some stupid room and telling a bunch of strangers what he did to me.”
“I know it’s hard, but—”
“You don’t know,” Alex snaps, eyes wild, but I know he’s not pissed at me. “You didn’t live it. You didn’t have to—”
“You’re right. I didn’t. But I saw what he did to you, and I want him to pay for it, Alex.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Hey, I’m not gonna make you. But they’re gonna need something soon. If not, he might walk.”
All of a sudden, Alex isn’t an angry teenager anymore. He’s that scared kid, lying in a hospital bed. “What… what do you mean he might walk?”
“Jason’s claiming you wanted it. That you—” My voice falters. How am I supposed to continue that sentence? Tell Alex what Jason’s been saying about him?
If I ever get my hands on him again…
He looks down at the floor, getting what I’m saying with a sigh of defeat. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Relief floods through me, followed by guilt for making him do something he clearly doesn’t want. “Okay. We’ll go after—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “Notwe. You’re not coming.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you there,” he says too fast, tripping over the words. “I don’t want you hearing it. Any of it. It’s…” His cheeks turn pink as he looks anywhere but at me. “It’s humiliating, Nate. And you’ll lose your shit.”
“Alex—”
“Will you ask Iris to come with me?”
“Iris?” I question, but he only shrugs, still not looking up.
It kills me that he doesn’t want me to be there for him, but if that’s what he wants… “Alright. I’ll talk to her.”
He finally glances up at me, but any openness from before is long gone. “Thanks.”
“You got it, kid. We’re not letting that son of a bitch get away with this.”
