His face shutters again. Cosmo and I share a look.
“How old am I?” Wes asks suddenly, straightening up. “How old are we?”
“Twenty-one, brother.”
How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? Wes is the brains of this twin operation.
Max suddenly sits up on the sofa. “Morning all,” he says in his perpetually chirpy manner. “Beautiful day.”
Cosmo glares at Max, then turns back to us. “My turn to ask a question. Who do you love, Wes?” he asks randomly.
Wes flinches. “What?”
“Who,” Cosmo says slowly, “do you love. Simple question.”
I don’t think I can breathe. Please say something good, Wes.
“I-I love my brother.”
My heart releases a little.
“And I love…I think I love you, Cosmo.” Suddenly, his compliance switches off. “What the fuck are you asking this shit for?”
Cosmo shrugs. “I just wanted to know if you still had feelings,” he replies, and honestly, I don't get what the point of that test was either. Of course, Wes has feelings.
“And who do you hate, Wes?” Cosmo goes on to ask. My stomach drops out of my chest, landing somewhere around my knees.Please don't say it.I tried to drill the message into his head just using my eyes.Please.
“I hate that fucking dud Donovan fawns over,” Wes says, turning to glare right at me.
The air goes cold. My hands clench into fists, wishing I could punch something. Maybe Cosmo’s head. “Thanks, bro,” I mutter. “Real useful.”
Thankfully, I’m spared from getting more heated as a hard knock on the door announces the arrival of breakfast.
Aww, Cosmo ordered up my favorite cereal.
Max lets out a whoop and pushes himself in between me and Cosmo to get at the waffles.
“Get out of my personal space,” Cosmo snaps, pushing him away.
Max gasps like a Victorian maiden. “Ooh, so sorry, your highness.” Then he looks up at Wes. “Broseph! You look like you need a waffle, stat. Or maybe a blood transfusion and some molly.”
“Can you not?” I hiss at him, but in his haphazard way, I know what Max is getting at. Wes is looking and acting like a ghost. Finding him and Tee-Tee is all I’ve dreamed of for the last four years, but…not to be a complainer.
It’s like Wes is the shell of a Build-a-Bear, and all the essential stuffing is still floating around somewhere in a different dimension. I guess I understand why the others are wary of him. It’s like that time I’d brought this cute raccoon into theapartment, and he’d snuggled and been awesome, then bitten the shit out of me.
“Wes?” I say. “Remember when I tried to befriend that raccoon?”
His face lightens. “Rocky?”
“‘Xactly. I’m gonna drop some real time on you, brother. You’ve got a Rocky vibe going on. Like, we think you’re cute and friendly, but also got an inkling you’re gonna chew my face off while I sleep.” I’m relieved to see a half-smile appear on Wes’s face. “Is there anythingat allI can do to help?” I’ve been wracking my brain, but I've got nothing.
“I’m fine,” he sighs. “Maybe I’ll take my camera out later.”
“That’s a great idea. Oh, wait. We packed up your dark room; all that stuff is still in storage.”
Wes's face falls, and he walks back into his bedroom and quietly shuts the door. Fuck. Cosmo passes me a coffee, and as soon as I’ve finished the mug, my brain starts working. “Shit! We stashed our hand luggage by your still, Max. Wes had a camera bag there.”
“Still?” asks Cosmo.
