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He let out a throaty chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. Excuses.” Drake’s eyes darted over to my vanity, and he narrowed his gaze, concentrating on something else.
He started for the white vanity, and when I realized what he was looking at, my heart slammed in my chest.
Leaning forward, he observed the picture taped on the mirror of Mitchell and me eating one of our family waffles at a grand opening in New York. It was a big deal for Dad—so big he brought us with him because he wanted us to experience it, too.
That was when things were going good—when Mom wasn’t so snobby and Dad wasn’t always so busy.
“Is that your brother?” Drake asked, slicing through my memories.
“Yes,” I responded quietly.
His upper lip quirked up. “You guys look just alike.”
“We used to get that a lot.”
Drake stood up straight again, turning around and looking at me. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to him? You don’t have to tell me,” he said quickly, when he saw my shoulders tense. “I’ve been curious since we were younger. It’s like everybody knew but me. I never wanted to ask back then because I know how much it hurts to bring something like that up.”
“No—it’s okay.” I sighed, walking forward and slouching down on the end of the bed. Drake sat right next to me. “He… um… well… shit.” I forced a laugh, focusing on the bedspread. My eyes began to water just from the mere thought of it.
His fingers ran through the damp strands of my hair. “You don’t have to talk about it, Jenny. I understand. I hate talking about how my Mom died too.”
“No—I can do it. It should be easier for me to talk about now, you know?”
His head shook. “It will never get easier to live with or talk about. You just learn to accept it and learn to take it as what it is.”
I nodded. “Well… the reason I freaked out when we were at The Dark Side is because we were by the cliff that…he jumped off.”
Drake’s face didn’t change. It was serious, but soft. He was listening, desperate for more.
“There was a lot that was getting to him and I wasn’t sure what it was about at first. I was young and didn’t think much of his situation… until he didn’t come back home one night. We were supposed to have dinner with his football coach, but he didn’t show. For a few days, everyone was panicking. The whole neighborhood offered to help look for him. Mom and Dad set up a search party to get more people to find him. Around three in the morning—about a week later—the cops were knocking on our door. They told us his body had been washed up on shore, found by some high school kids that were probably about to get stoned or something.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.” He stroked my hair.
“It’s okay.” I dropped my head. “Mitchell never struck me as the type that would commit suicide. He just gave up, and sometimes I want to blame him, but I don’t blame him. Our family is really fucked up. All people on the outside see are the material things, but they don’t see what we go through on a daily basis. Mitchell wanted to confess so much to my mom. He was just too afraid to. I know she knows deep down, but she tries to block it out. My mom and I have the worst bond ever.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s terrible. She’s selfish and she thinks she’s never the blame for anything.”
“My mom was the complete opposite, surprisingly.”
I looked up, pressing my lips to form a soft smile. “I bet she was really sweet.”
“She was.” He sighed. “You don’t blame yourself, do you? About what happened to your brother?”
“Sometimes. I feel like I could have stopped him. He came to me last before going away. He was telling me that he was leaving and was saying all of this stuff about how I’m the better of us two.” I waved a dismissive hand. “I should have told him to stay—begged a little more. I don’t know.” I stared down at my lap.
Drake tilted my chin and our eyes met. “Don’t blame yourself. You can’t control other people’s actions and you were just a little kid.”
“I know, but I just wish I could have done something to help.”
“I don’t blame you for wishing that.”
I blew a heavy breath as his hand dropped to the crest of my back.
Silence filled the bedroom for several seconds. Drake finally broke it when he spoke.
“Should I be trying to cheer you up right now?” His question was serious, and I couldn’t help but laugh my ass off. “What?” he asked, smiling.
“You are so serious right now, aren’t you?”
He held his hands out, lips pressing. “Hey, I’m kinda new at this shit. I don’t know if you want to keep thinking about it, or move on to something else.”
