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with his head down. “I didn’t mean to, Kelly.”
I look him over, head to foot. He’s wearing his Trojan uniform, and it fits like it did when we both played. I stare for a long time at the crown of his dark head. I wonder why he’s gone dark now. If it means... what I fear it means.
I grab his shoulder, squeezing hard enough to hurt—the way Robert taught us both. “I want to know where you went, Ly. This not knowing is killing me. I miss you.” My throat aches. I pull him into my arms. “You’re my older brother. You’re my twin. I need to know.”
“You know I can’t tell you.” He laughs. “If I told you, Kelly, I’d have to kill you.”
My throat and stomach burn like someone dumped a vat of acid into me. Lyon is wrenched from me. I look around for him, but there is no sign he’s ever even been here. The blue tiles are cold under my feet. Blue steam wafts through the air. I breathe it in, because along with poison, there is oxygen—and I haven’t yet learned how to live without breathing.
“Fuck me.” I clutch my throat. The shaking starts in my shoulders and spreads out, all through my aching body.
I never thought I’d feel this pain again...
I jerk out of sleep as if the hand of God has plucked me from the ether. Cleo’s face is right in front of mine. I blink a few times before noticing that she looks scared shitless. Her hands squeeze my shoulders, and she’s straddling my outstretched legs. “Kellan! Shit—you scared me.”
“What?” I look around the living room, still stained with shadow but starting to glow from the rising sun. I look down at my busted hand. “What’s going on?”
Her hand rises to cup my nape. “You feel asleep in my lap. You had a nightmare, I think.” She puts her free hand on my chest, and I notice how fast I’m breathing.
I try to slow it down, but I keep feeling that ghost pain in my throat. “Water,” I try. Cleo rushes to the kitchen. I can’t breathe. I stagger up and walk around the couch, into the kitchen, where I see her opening cabinets. I hang onto the granite countertop and try to focus on the cold beneath my hands.
I’m in my own house. I’m not going back there. I’m okay for now. I look down at my bandaged hand and want to scream. Why’d I do that? I’m so fucking stupid.
Cleo’s hands are rubbing my back. I like that.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. But I can’t seem to slow my breathing.
I just stand there... flailing, while Cleo’s hands stroke my fevered skin through my shirt, and my body echoes and my heart hangs from my chest in tattered shreds. I miss my brother so much, I can’t breathe.
I try to ration my breaths, and Cleo keeps rubbing circles on my back. Like Lyon. He would rub my neck and shoulders—since when we were little kids.
My big brother... he knew what would make me better. The one who didn’t know was me...
I lean over the counter and let my head rest on my arm. “Cleo?”
“What can I do?” she asks in a high voice.
I shake my head. I turn around and pull a cabinet open. I grab a pill bottle and shake a Xanax into my damp palm. It’s been a long time since I took one, so they might be expired... A few fall to the floor, and Cleo rushes to gather them.
I hold one in my hand, thinking of cutting it in half. My fingers shake so much, I just put it in my mouth and chew.
She takes the bottle from me as I swallow bitter pieces.
I lean over the counter, too ashamed to look at her. “I’m sorry,” I say as it starts to spread its numbing fingers through me. I pull my lead gaze up to hers. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You were saying ‘lie.’”
“Lyon.” I let my eyelids slip shut. I feel her hand, a gentle pressure on my back.
“I heard you say it at the factory too,” she whispers by my ear. “Did something happen, Kellan? I can tell you’re really upset.”
I open my eyes and find her worried face. I take her hand.
“Come here,” I whisper.
I lead Cleo over to the couch and then I summon all my energy and walk to the DVD player.
I take the Trojans DVD’s plastic case and turn the player on.
