Page 32 of See My Words

Rylan was right on his heels, sputtering. “Maybe you can’t eat that shit, but I can! Did you even think about that before you dumped my dinner in the trash too? What the fuck, Scott?”

Scott kicked his shorts away and strode naked to the shower. “Sorry,” he grunted, sounding anything but. He gave the faucets a vicious turn and climbed in, groaning as the hot water hit him. “God, that feels good.”

Rylan shook his head in disgust and retreated to the kitchen for the bowl of salad, sprinkling some oil and vinegar on it before he ate it standing up at the counter. A few minutes later, Scott padded in, hair damp and wearing a soft, worn pair of jeans with the top button open, revealing the waistband of his underwear and a small slice of pubic hair that had Rylan’s mouth watering all over again.

“What’re you gonna eat, then?” Rylan demanded, dragging his eyes away. “You can’t chew salad. The shepherd’s pie was fine for now until everything gets back to normal. Jesus.”

Scott yanked the pantry door open and pulled out a blender. “Diet has to be my priority, Rylan, and I have to watch my fucking carbs, okay? I’ll just make a Greek yogurt shake with protein powder and peanut butter.”

Rylan rolled his eyes, stuffing salad into his mouth. Scott grabbed some almond milk from the fridge, saying, “Hey, you know, I’ve been thinking, you should probably move back to your own place before too much longer.”

Rylan forgot all about mapping Scott’s abdomen with his tongue. He put the salad bowl down, his appetite gone.

“You—want me to go?” he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Well, I’m fine, so there’s no reason for you to stay,” Scott dumped a tub of yogurt in the blender. “You’re paying rent on an apartment you’re not living in. That’s stupid, Ry.”

“It’s not stupid,” Rylan argued. “I was glad to do it, because you needed me.”

Scott turned his back on him, putting the lid on the blender. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t really need you anymore.” His tone was offhand, careless.

Rylan blinked. “Right,” he forced out through stiff lips. “Of course you don’t.”

“I’m busy, you’re busy, so it’s not like we’ll be seeing all that much of each other anyway from now on, right?”

Scott turned the blender on, making further conversation impossible. Rylan spun away and headed to his room, intending to grab his bag so he could pack and get the fuck out, but instead he sank down onto the edge of the bed and stared at the floor with unseeing eyes. Shit.

The blender whirred loudly, followed by an oppressive silence. Rylan heaved a ragged sigh. It was only six p.m., but fuck packing and going back to his place right now. Scott would have to put up with him for one more night, and then tomorrow he’d get out of his hair.

He stood, intending to go put the remainder of his salad away and clean the kitchen, when his phone chimed softly from the nightstand and the lock screen lit up with an email notification. He tapped it, giving a pleased exclamation when he saw the email was from Garrett, his fourteen-year-old stepbrother.

Hey, Ry!

How’s it going? We’re all fine. Jaxon wanted me to tell you he got his learner’s permit last week. Donna lets him drive a lot when we go somewhere, which is kinda scary, but he does a pretty good job. Gavin’s crushing on a girl in his class, and he made me promise not to tell anyone. You’re cool, tho. I know you won’t make fun of him. Me, not much going on. Over the summer I’m gonna go to the Y and start learning how to be a junior lifeguard. I can’t wait! When I’m 16, maybe they’ll hire me.

Rylan smiled, enjoying Garrett’s breezy updates. Then he got to the point.

Jaxon got your email about Scott. OMG it’s crazy you ran into him after so long! This makes me sound like a prick, and pls don’t tell Scott I said it, but I’d almost forgotten about him. You know? I just don’t think about him much anymore, and it’s weird cuz I cried so hard when you told me he wasn’t ever coming back.

Rylan flinched, remembering that night, all three boys huddled in the bed with him as they each came to terms with the fact Scott was indeed gone for good.

Jaxon doesn’t wanna talk to him, Ry. He says it’s ancient history, and he’s moved on, that Scott didn’t care enough about us to stay, so why should Jaxon care anything about him now? Gavin and I are cool with it, if Scott wants to text us or something, say hi. He has to make the first move, tho, cuz we don’t wanna put ourselves out there only to get rejected by him again. It’s okay to give him our numbers.

Well, gotta run. Write back when you can, yo.

Later, Garrett

Rylan read the email through twice more, wincing. He’d been pretty fucking naïve in assuming the boys would blithely welcome Scott back into their lives without a second thought. Back then Heather had refused to talk about his disappearance with them, pleading ignorance, so it had been up to Rylan to try to explain to three confused, grief-stricken kids why their older brother had packed up and left them without so much as a good-bye. Even with the conscious efforts he’d made to avoid bad-mouthing anyone, the boys had obviously come away with the impression Scott hadn’t cared about them at all.

Rylan headed for the kitchen and grabbed the salad bowl. He scraped the half-eaten contents into the trash on top of the congealed shepherd’s pie, grimacing anew at the waste. Well, none of this is your problem. It’s between the boys and Scott to figure out. You’re just the goddamned messenger. Again.

Rylan tied the trash bag closed with swift, angry motions, took it out into the hallway, and dropped it down the chute, letting the metal door slam shut with a satisfying clang. It sucked ass to always be the messenger, but he wouldn’t put himself in the middle, not this time. Scott was on his own, as he’d just made it crystal clear he wanted to be, pushing Rylan away like—

Like he did everyone else.

Rylan’s fury and hurt suddenly dissipated, and he dropped his arms to his sides, slumping. He of all people knew Scott’s capacity for throwing up walls, especially when he felt threatened or rejected. Typical Scott behavior, learned at Heather’s knee and honed to a fine art by the shallow, superficial world he lived in.

Rylan sighed, going back inside the apartment to climb into a hot shower, going over Scott’s statements from earlier.