When I look over at him, his eyelashes are damp. “Probably. Maybe that turtle rock you painted is still there too… It sucksthat we don’t have any of that stuff. Our best memories in that house are of each other, but we don’t have anything to look back on together. No pictures, none of our stuff. I kinda hate that.”
I get that. There was so much bad there, but it made the special memories with my brother all the more significant. “If the only things to come out of that house are me and you; I can make my peace with that. But having the little things would be really cool too.”
“I’m going to have to throw Parker and Emerson into my post-social blackout apology tour. You two make me feel like the worst brother ever. I didn’t even like them for, like, two whole decades. They broke my stuff and were the loudest people on the planet.”
Brady chuckles, but it makes me wonder… “Do you think that has something to do with having normal parents? Like, maybe Brady and I bonded so easily because our home life was so chaotic and we needed each other? But you could get away with not liking your brothers because you were never worried about if they were safe or not.”
“Huh,” Chase mumbles. “That would make a shit-ton of sense, actually.”
To my left, there’s a small wounded noise. “No. No way, because no matter what Mom and Dad are like, Easton was always going to be Easton. Maybe that made me more protective, but we bonded because of who he is. I knew it the very first day.”
Frowning, I say, “I didn’t mean it like that, Brady. We were always going to get along better because our personalities line up. But we never fought and you never got annoyed with me hanging around you. There was no conflict between us ever, and maybe that’s because we were safer together.”
He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, maybe. I still don’t like the sound of it though. In my head, I never was upset with youbecause there was never a reason to be. I liked you hanging around me because we had fun, and the worst of their behavior flew over my head so it never occurred to me like that.”
Mulling that over takes me a long while. But even if the more intricate aspects of our childhood escape me, standing on more solid ground is a relief. Eventually, Brady says he’s going to work out in the basement, but assures me we’re okay. Chase and I haven’t moved, stuck no more than an inch apart, but closer than we’ve come in the two weeks since I’ve been released from the hospital. His body heat is lulling me into a comforting daze that allows me to drift somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Summer is rapidly coming to a close, the mornings are getting colder and the heat of the day isn’t lasting as long as it used to. In the mornings when I’ve given up on trying to sleep and find myself in Blake’s office, waiting for her to do the same, the low hanging clouds provide a blanket of security over the quiet neighborhood. It’s almost a shame to see it fade away for the day, leaving me wondering if we’re any safer if the danger lurking around the corner is visible or if it’s better to live in ignorant bliss for just a little longer.
Personally, I long for it to be the latter, but life has taught me otherwise. Denial of reality is what allowed Aaron to get close enough to me that I was in the position to be hurt again. Deep down, I always knew what it was. I knew, the first time the hairs on the back of my neck stood up without an obvious reason, that the walls were closing in on me. I forced it back down, made every plausible excuse in the book, but the sharpened fear was too familiar for it to be anything else.
But I was falling in love, the right way this time, and all I wanted was as much time as I could get before the inevitable found me. Maybe it was selfish and stupid. Maybe I should have cut and run before Chase was in a place to be hurt. Maybe I should have been smarter, done a hundred things better so wedidn’t end up like this. The what-ifs and regrets are stacking up by the tons. “Would it be a bad idea to go get my clothes from the house?”
Chase leans up, raven hair hanging just long enough that it begs to be touched. “Your clothes aren’t at home, Chaos. They were all gone when I got back from Chicago.”
Oh. No wonder they thought I had left by choice. Between that and the note Aaron left, I would have assumed the same. “They were in my backpack. I had packed them before my test.”
His dark eyebrows knit together. “Why?”
“Because I was going to get Brady to help me surprise you by showing up in Chicago. You were so sad and worried about your mom the last time we talked and it sounded like you needed me there.”
A dozen emotions appear in his eyes, one after another, cycling too fast to name. “But—No. That’s not possible. I would have known if your stuff was still there.”
“Can we go see?” I ask. I’d be surprised if Aaron had taken it with him. He wouldn’t have known what was inside it.
Chase nods, seemingly dazed. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Here goes nothing,” I whisper under my breath.
CHAPTER 11
EASTON
After saying our goodbyes to our housemates, Chase hands me his phone to queue up some music and we’re off. There’s a fond look in his eye when I put on the kind he gave me shit about when I was looking for an argument, and he refused to attack anything worth a damn, so he went after my music taste. Admittedly, I do favor the really depressing folksy vibe, which is not for everyone, but it’s going to grow on him, eventually.
“Do you think it’s weird that I’m not, like, actively bottoming out? It’s weird to me. Seems like I should be immobilized and in a nose-dive spiral.”
He hums in consideration. “Landon and I talked about that once a few years ago, you know. Probably the only serious conversation I’ve had with him. His dad committed suicide when he was in elementary school, so he has an unique perspective about mental health struggles.”
I didn’t know that. “That’s an incredibly sad perspective to have.”
Chase shrugs and flips on his blinker before switching lanes. “It is, but he’s done a lot of work to deal with it. He did say that he understands it a lot better now that he’s older, but there werea lot of signs. One was that when his dad would get out of the hospital after a psychiatric hold, he’d be a lot calmer. It’s like, you hit rock bottom and then hover for a while until your brain decides if you’re going up or down.”
“That makes sense, I guess. Honestly, I don’t know very much about mental health beyond just using the words conversationally.”
His warm hand comes to rest on my thigh, simultaneously making my skin heat with the contact and my eyes burn in relief that he’s initiating affection. “It’s a hard thing to jump into learning about. One of those things that makes a lot of things make sense, but it’s also really sad.”
“Think my brother would help me find a way to dip my toe in the water?”
He chuckles softly. “I think if you asked, Bray would go back to school to major in psychology just so you have access to whatever resources you want about it.”
