Page 108 of Head Under Water

My mind flashes to a memory—my birthday. That day at school, Banks borrowed my keys in class and didn’t return them until after lunch. He would’ve only needed to cross the street to the gas station to make a copy.

But this is…Banks.

My friend.

The boy I once thought I might love.

The bathroom is too small now. The space too clouded with steam.

“Are you insane?” I demand through sharp, heavy breaths.

His expression isn’t even angry. It’s focused. He lunges, and I stumble. He slams us into the sink. My shoulder hits the sharp edge of the mirror, and I cry out, but it’s far from the worst pain today.

“Why are you doing this?” I beg, fighting as his hands come to grip my shoulders.

His eyes darken. His words come from behind tight lips as he fights me back toward the tub. “Because. She. Deserves. To. See. Her. World. Burn.”

I jerk my knee up, slamming it between his legs, and he doubles over in pain. I shove him back and tear open the door, darting forward. His hand catches my ankle, and I drop to the ground, my chin connecting with the concrete. Blood coats my tongue, my teeth.

I turn over, losing my towel as I struggle to get away from him. His grip tightens, both of us on the floor.

“Who are you talking about?” I demand, kicking to free my leg.

He tosses the towel out of his way, pushing up to his knees. “Your bitch of a mother.” There is venom in every syllable.

The world crumbles around me.

“My mom?” The words stop time. I still, staring at him in disbelief. “What does my mom have to do with anything? You don’t even know my mom.”

His laugh is sharp and hollow. “Turns out knowing someone isn’t a prerequisite to ruining their life. Their family.”

Understanding creeps in, slow and horrifying. I realize what’s happening, even before he spells it out. Mom’s confession replays in my ears once again.

“Ruth.” Her name is a hard, painful lump in my throat.

His face turns to stone, but he doesn’t say a word.

Silence hangs between us.

“She was your mom.” Ruth had a child. A son. He was older than us. That was all I knew. “George is your…dad.”

He moves forward, still crawling, eyes searching. I push backward, keeping a steady distance between us.

“She told me what happened,” I say softly. “About⁠—”

“The affair? Yeah.” His lips set in a hard line. “She couldn’t stay away from him. She ruined everything.” His eyes blaze with something dark.

My back connects with the door to my bedroom. I push up to stand, grabbing the doorknob, but he’s too fast. He slams it closed, boxing me in.

Then I remember something else my mom told me. “You’re the one who told her.” My eyes skim across his. “Ruth.”

He gives a sharp, hollow nod. “I found letters from your mom, and my dad admitted it was why they’d gotten a divorce. He left to prove to Betty he was still in love with her. That he never fell out of love with her. He couldn’t look at my mom the same way after they met, no matter how hard he tried. I thought she deserved to know the truth.” He takes a small step back, his eyes washing over me as if, for the first time, he’s realizing where he is. What he’s doing. “All my life I thought she left because of me. I never knew it was his fault. I thought she abandoned us. I never…”

“Did you hurt her?” I demand, the similarities between what just happened to me and how Ruth died pounding in my chest, my head.

Banks’s face whips back to mine like I’ve said the worst thing. “Fuck you. I would never hurt my own mother. I wanted her to know the truth. That it was his fault. Your mom’s fault. Never hers. Never mine—” He cuts himself off. Tears blur my vision. “After I found out what she did, that she…that she was gone, I promised myself there was only one person to blame, and I’d make her pay.”

The words drop like stones between us.