Page 52 of Grief & Glitter

“I’m sorry, Gid⁠—”

“No.”

Those words again. I’m sorry, Gid. They still didn’t touch this. “You watched me fall apart.”

“I was falling apart too.”

“You made me carry it!” God, I was shouting at someone who almost died. What the fuck was wrong with me?

His face twisted. “I couldn’t carry it.” The anger drained out of me so fast it left me empty. Noah looked down at his scarred arm. “I couldn’t carry it,” he whispered again.

And there it was. Not an excuse, not forgiveness. The truth.

I’d walked away from that lake alive, but part of me had never really left it. Noah had never even been there, but he hadn’t left it either, not really, not with ten years of a dare he could never take back. I looked at the scars on Noah’s arm, then at Dad sitting between us with tears running unchecked down his face. I thought about all the years we’d spent separated by blame. Ethan had died. Mom was already gone. And instead of holding on to what was left of us, we’d torn each other apart.

I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know how to forgive Noah, and I didn’t know how to forgive myself, but for the first time in ten years I understood that maybe those were two different things.

I picked up the chair and sat back down. Noah watched me. “I’m still fucking furious with you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“I know.”

“But you’re not dying. Ever. Not before me.”

His mouth trembled, and I reached for his hand. For a second, he didn’t move, then his fingers closed around mine. Dad put his hand over both of ours, the big man openly crying.

Three of us. There should have been four, and there would always be someone missing. But three of us were still here, and that had to be enough.

God, I needed Ryan so bad right now.

Chapter 17

Ryan

Funny pet videos.

What did humanity do when they had to wait in a hospital waiting room before the invention of the cell phone and goofy animal vids? Smoke. People sat around in waiting rooms and smoked up the place, which, looking back on it now, seemed a totally stupid thing, but hey, we learn as we go, right?

I sat hunched forward, shoulders growing tight with worry, hoping for a text from Gids but knowing he was too deep in the aftermath to even think about reaching out to me. Totally got it. Did not hold that against him. Guess I had a small taste of how Dad felt when he’d been called by some stranger in New York City to tell him his son was in the ER, deep in withdrawal symptoms while being treated for an ass whooping.

Sitting back to ease the cramping in my neck and shoulders, I glanced around the busy waiting lounge. Everyone here looked stressed. Obviously. We were all waiting for news about a loved one, so sure we were all tense. Feeling antsy, I rose, shoved my phone into my back pocket, and took a walk. Down a hall to a tiny room with a few vending machines. I bought a soda and a bag of ranch-flavored corn chips. Then I added a Milky Way to the dive into junk food heaven because why the hell not? Toting my goodies to one of two round tables, I sat, yanked my phone out, and cracked open the soda.

My brain was mush now, so no more videos. Instead, I called Dad. He answered immediately, the bold Copperheads logo painted on the video viewing room behind him.

“Hey, Buddy, how is everything?” he asked as he sat at one of about twenty-five small desks that the players used to watch videos of other teams before games. “Everyone here is worried sick about Taft.”

I’d probably broken a golden rule about anonymity by telling my father that Gids’ brother had attempted to end his life. Gideon told the team he had a family emergency and that he would be gone for at least a week. The Copperheads had not asked for exact details. They wished him and his family well, and that was that. No one was obligated to divulge anything personal, even though the coaches and staff kept personal news private. Gids might be pissed when he found out I’d told Dad, but I needed someone to talk to, and other than my father, there was only Lyle. This wasn't news Gideon would want my sponsor to have, so I’d take the heat if it fell on me. My father would not say a word to anyone.

“Tell them things are… well, I don’t know much yet, to be honest. I know he’s alive, but Gideon and his dad are holed up in an ER cubicle. I’m just chilling.”

“How are you holding up?” I could hear the concern in his voice.

“Okay. I’m having something to eat. Totally not healthy at all, but I don’t know where the cafeteria is, and even if I did, I want Gids to see me when he comes out. So, yeah, Doritos, Sprite, and a Milky Way for the win!”

“You always did have a sweet spot for those three items.”