Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Get out of the way, Dust,” Morgan seethes.
“No.” He tries to put a hand on Morgan, but Morgan jerks away.
“Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what happened.”
“Fuck you, Dusty. And fuck you too, Rhett. The two of you can have each other,” Morgan spits while that darkness inside me, the parts of me that are like my dad grow.
Dusty tries to stop him, but Morgan says, “I can’t do this with you. Don’t talk to me. Don’t follow me. You chose him.”
And then, my brother is gone.
“Fuck!” Dusty shouts. “Why the hell did you kiss me?”
Because of course it’s my fault. Everything always is. I stand, wiping the blood off my face. “You kissed me.” The night spins through my head, making me dizzy. “I’m not… I haven’t… I’m not into guys.”
The pain on Dusty’s face damn near breaks my heart. He’s crumbling right before me, knowing he just lost the most important person in the world to him…and that’s what this was about. I knew it then, but it hits me like another punch, this one to the gut. I don’t want Dusty…but for once it would be nice to be the one someone wanted. “I’m not him.” I turn away.
“I know. We’re not like that. He’s my best friend.” Now, it seems, it’s Dusty’s turn to lie.
“So that’s me you wanted to kiss just now?”
The look he refuses to give me says it all. “Why did you kiss me back? You said you’re not even queer.”
I’m still wrapping my head around all the reasons, but there’s no denying part of the truth. “We both know why.” To get back at Morgan. At least…I think. What kind of person does that make me?
Dad, Dad, Dad.
“What’s wrong with me?” I ask. “I can’t… I gotta go.”
“Rhett!” Dusty calls after me, but I keep going, walking away, to be anywhere but here.
I stumble around most of the night, wishing I could be like Morgan—independent, leave for good.
When I get back to the house, East is heading inside while Morgan’s walking down the porch steps.
“Don’t go,” I say.
“Fuck you. Like you care. You just wanted to hurt me.”
“Yes,” I admit. Lying won’t change the truth.
“I fucking hate you!” he says, and then we’re yelling at each other again, always yelling.
When he shoves me away and heads to the car, I say, “Don’t leave him. Don’t throw everything away because of me.”
But Morgan doesn’t reply…and then he’s gone.
I stand in the middle of the yard, watching the sunrise, looking out at the water where we lost Ella when she and East were nine.
It’s early morning when I make my way into the house. East is in the kitchen, and he looks like shit, beat up and clearly drunk.
“What did you do?” he asks, knowing where the fault lies.
“Morgan was always going to leave.”
“You did the same.”
But I came back. I didn’t want to go. I would have stayed if I could.
The second I hear Dad’s footsteps, I drop my head back, banging it against the cabinet.
“Go,” I tell East, hoping he has time to sneak out the back door before Dad can see him. I can deal with Dad’s shit, but I don’t want East to have to. When he doesn’t move, I push around him, heading off Dad in the living room before he can get to the kitchen and see East. A moment later, I hear the door click closed behind East.
He yells at me for thirty minutes, like I’m a child, reminding me how much I disappoint him, how bad it will look for the family if people see me beat up like this. Tells me how I’ll never be as good as him, then makes me feel guilty by telling me how much he counts on me, how he can’t depend on Morgan or East, but he can depend on me. I shouldn’t like to hear it, but I do.
“Morgan is smart,” I tell him. “People love him. And East, if you’d just give him a chance, he—”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t understand you, Rhett. Why you’re so weak. Neither of them would defend you the way you do them. They hate you because you’re like me.”
I hate me for the same thing…and he’s right. There’s no doubt in my mind that my brothers hate me.
Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “It’s just the two of us who’ll carry on the family name the way it deserves…the way your mom wanted. She wished for that for you, Rhett, for you and me to be successful together.”
I’m not proud to admit that my heart swells at those words. “Yes, sir.”
“Go get cleaned up,” he orders. “I’ll not have you walking around the house and looking a mess all day.”
I nod. He leaves for work. East is gone. I go upstairs, shower, and get dressed. When Dusty arrives, I’m sitting on the porch swing Mom loved so much—well, not the same one. Dad got rid of that, and now we have one that looks different.