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"I’ll talk to her," Denielle tells Rhys before I’m out of earshot.
The locker roomis bustling with girls in various stages of changing. I pass everyone, ignoring the ones calling my name, and head to the far end. Between the showers and the last row of lockers is an unused nook, probably because the drain back here always smells like sewage and the school has never been able to fix the issue. I sit on the floor with my forehead resting on my knees and arms wrapped around my shins when my best friend sinks next to me.
Denielle bumps my shoulder. "Umm...babe?"
I turn my head to look at her, letting my temple rest on my knees. "Don’t say it. I don’t know what happened out there." My voice sounds strangled.
She frowns at me and sighs, "I’m pretty sure I do."
I scan her face. Huh?
She wraps one arm around my shoulders and squeezes. "From what I have seen these past few weeks, Rhys’s feelings are not one-sided."
She really went there.
"Den, he’s my brother. Crap, no. He’s my friend. At least, I thought he was while we were gone. But he just went back to his old life as if our trip never happened. As if nothing has changed. At. All." My heart starts pounding in my chest.
That gets me another squeeze. "Babe, first, he isnotyour brother, nor has he ever been. And second, I think you guys are way past the friend stage. You may have been running the opposite direction every time you saw him anywhere, but he saw you too. And the look on his face said it all. He doesn’t think anyone notices, and I might not have if you hadn’t filled me in on this fucked up situation. I can tell you...he most certainly has not gone back to his old life. His feelings for you are written all over his face. It’s obvious."
I’m about to tell her that this is not news; he admitted it himself, but Denielle holds up the hand that is not wrapped around me.
"Don’t think I haven’t watched you too since you told me. You are just as gone as he is."
What?
My eyebrows scrunch together. I can’t be. That’s...I just can’t.
After a pause, she adds, "And you know what...in its own twisted way, it probably makes sense."
I rub my forehead. "Uh. Huh?"
Den chuckles. "Okay, let me make it clearer. Babe, when you and I met, the two of you were joined at the hip, with an occasional Wes on the other side. You were closer than any brother-sister relationship I’deverseen. When Rhys stopped talking to you, you were distraught. And not just in anI-had-a-fight-with-my-brotherkind of way. It was as if you got broken up with, like you lost the other half of your soul. I didn’t understand it at the time. I mean, I love my brother, but if Oli stopped talking to me over a fight or whatever...oh well, I’d get over it. But you didn’t. Even when you startedfunctioningagain, you never were the same. Now it all makes sense."
"Huh?" is my very profound response once more.
"Whatever that memory doctor did to you, he didn’t fully erase what you and Rhys already had before the you-know-what. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think it’s always been there. Now that he’s come clean, and with everything you guys went through together on your trip...well, you can finish that sentence."
"Huh?" I’m convinced I have a uni-brow by now.
"Oh, come on, you’re not that dense. Wes maybe, but not you," she chastises. "Or are you in denial?" She squints and scans my face. "Oh my gosh, YOU ARE!"
Her outburst makes me jump. I turn away, and I narrow my eyes at the blue locker across from me, replaying everything Den just said. What Rhys and I had before I got kidnapped and had my memory erased. That I acted like I had lost my other half. My mind wanders to the hotel room. The butterflies in my stomach. The sparring a few weeks ago. And despite my initial anger at Spence for putting me in that situation, it was the happiest I’d been since we got back. The fluttery feeling in my stomach.Butterflies.I blink. Oh! Oh. My. God.
"I’m in love with him," I say in a strangled whisper. I rub my hands over my eyes. I can’t be. It’s wrong.
I’m scared to look at Denielle, at what I’m going to see in her face. Pity? Revulsion? Disappointment? I chance a glance and am shocked for the second time. She genuinely smiles at me, and all I see is understanding and happiness. But for what?
"Why are you not disgusted?" I rasp out.
This is all just so wrong.
"Huh?"
I have to laugh. I guess I’m not the only one here who doesn’t have the most intelligent way of expressing confusion.
"He’s my brother. This should disgust you. Gross you out," I clarify my statement.
"Oh." She purses her lips and looks away for a second. Meeting my eyes again, she says, "Why would I be? You are my best friend, and your feelings are important to me. But even more importantly, he isnotyour brother. He never was. Besides being a bit slow, you have done nothing wrong. None of this is your fault."
