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“What kind of things was he saying?” Meadow asked.
Dylan looked at his mother.
“I already know, Dylan. It’s okay.” She brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes. “You didn’t seem to want to talk about it, but we’ve known since you were little. Why do you think sleepovers are in the living room?”
He stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head. “You knew? But I’ve always been so careful. Oh God. You knew, and this was all for nothing!”
“Was it the idiots at school?” It had to be. Nothing else in Rook’s life had seemed that bad.
Dylan nodded. “They’ve been threatening . . .” He trailed off, eyeing Kate, Ambrose, Konstantin, Meadow.
“To do what? Hurt him?” Meadow pressed. She tensed in Banner’s arms and looked as if she were ready to march over to the school and wait for the bullies on the front step. With a bat.
“No,” Banner disagreed, wondering how much Meadow knew.
“To out him?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck sakes! To who? Who doesn’t know?”
“Mom? I don’t know. Other kids at school?” Banner shook his head in confusion.
Meadow pulled on her hair in exasperation. “Fuck! Mom knows. She’s the one who told me, like, five years ago. Like it was supposed to be a big surprise?”
“No, no.” Dylan shook his head. “They were threatening to tell my parents. One of them has a picture of us . . .”
“A picture?” Dylan’s mother went paler. “Of what, exactly?”
“Us kissing.” Dylan pulled away from his mother and sat in one of the orange plastic chairs. “The kid said he was going to text it to Dad. Last night Rook kept saying he was ruining my life.”
Dylan’s mother, who’d been dabbing at her eyes on and off, started to cry. “This is our fault, then. If we weren’t so worried about messing up the conversation, we wouldn’t have procrastinated. This never crossed our minds.”
The adults in the room reassured her, but she didn’t look convinced.
They waited. Kate was there for him, holding his hand. Her quiet strength kept him from falling apart.
Eventually, Konstantin got to his feet. “Does anyone want anything? I’m going to see if the cafeteria is open. I need coffee.”
“Do you want to drive Kate home? She’s probably exhausted.” Banner looked over at her, sorry she’d been dragged into something so traumatic. Her hair was mussed, and her dress was rumpled, but she was more beautiful than ever.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He thought of insisting she go, just to be polite, but he didn’t want her to leave.
They settled in. Kate was true to her word.
***
The waxy look of Rook’s skin made Banner want to vomit. The IV in his arm and the neat way the hospital sheets were tucked around him gave the whole tableau a surreal feeling—as though he’d just walked onto the set of a bad television hospital drama.
The boy’s eyes flutter open. He looks close to death, small and pale in the bed, like a bundle of sticks. Cue emotional outburst from older brother.
“Hey.” Banner squeezed Rook’s hand.
Either Rook hadn’t heard him, or he was still as out of it as he’d been last time it was Banner’s turn to come in. The doctor had said they’d got him to the hospital before there’d been any serious damage, but the tension in Banner’s gut wouldn’t dissipate.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t worry about apologizing.”
“No, it’s not okay.” The thinness of Rook’s voice tore at Banner. Tears gathered at the corners of the boy’s eyes and gradually spilled over.
