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I wasn’t used to this version of Graham. I liked it, a lot, but what did it mean? Was this our new normal? Had the intimacy of last night fostered this newfound truce? Would it fade once we parted ways?
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there.”
I lifted my gaze to meet Graham’s. “Yeah, kinda zoned out for a second.”
“You good?
“Why do you hate me?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He sighed and leaned his forearms on the island. “Do you remember the last time we saw each other? Before that night in the ER?”
“Yeah. You came to the house looking for Russ.”
“Why didn’t you tell him I stopped by?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost brittle.
“What do you mean? I did tell him.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, when he got home. He flipped me off and told me to get my books off the kitchen table. Did he say I didn’t?”
Graham blinked rapidly. “That fucker,” he hissed, his voice dripping with anger and hurt.
“G?”
“Fuck.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck!”
I sat quietly, giving him a chance to process whatever was going on in his head.
“He said you didn’t tell him.” He laughed bitterly. “I can’t believe I was that stupid. Iknowhe’s a liar. Iknowhe’s a selfish dick who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Iknowthis. But I still believed him.”
“What happened when you came by? You were in trouble, weren’t you? You needed help.”
He slumped in his seat. “Yeah. Some shit happened and it took me a while to track him down. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I know he doesn’t give a shit about me. I just had no one else to turn to…”
“What happened?”
“My entire life exploded and I lost everything.”
He crossed his arms and stared at his cup. I stayed quiet. I desperately wanted to hear the story but wasn’t going to pry.
“I got arrested.” He braced, like he was waiting for me to laugh or say something disparaging. “There was a party at one of my teammates’ houses. His parents were away. I only went because he made a big deal about not wanting me there.”
I bit back a smile. That sounded like him.
“Anyway, things were fine for a bit. People were drinking and doing pills. Someone brought out weed. Typical rich-kid party. I guess one of the neighbors was in a mood because the cops showed up and everyone panicked and scattered. I ended up in the side yard. I was trying to climb the fence when someone screamed at me to hit the ground. I did, but all I could see was the gun pointed at me. Just for being at a high-school party. The next thing I knew I was being tossed into the back of a patrol car.”
“Did they arrest everyone? What were the charges?”
“Nope, just me and another guy who was trying to escape that way too. He had a bag of joints in his pocket. They charged us both with possession.”
“Were you carrying? Or high?”
“Nope. I don’t do any of that shit, never have. But it didn’t matter. I was there so I was guilty too.” He toyed with the edge of his cup. “They interrogated me for hours, even after I begged them to call my mom. It took them forever to call her. And you haven’t lived until you’ve seen your thirty-six-weeks’ pregnant mother sobbing across an interrogation table at three in the morning.”
“Jesus.”
“They kept me in that room all night. First they wouldn’t call my mom, then they refused to let me have a lawyer. They kept trying to get me to admit it was my weed. Eventually they had to let me go, but it didn’t matter that they didn’t officially charge me or that I wasn’t the one carrying. None of that fucking mattered.” He pressed his hands against the table, like he was anchoring himself.
