“I tried,” he whispers, “but the deeper I got, the harder it was. I knew if I told you, I’d lose you. I wanted to believe someone like you could want to be with someone like me. And—”
“Stop,” I snap. My heart works overtime. The room starts to spin. Lack of oxygen. I take a deep breath. “Just stop with the lies. I’ve heard enough.”
Need to get out of here. Need someplace to think and get a grip on my roiling emotions. Which is why I don’t just walk away.
I run.
Chapter 25
Noah
As soon as the locker room door slams shut, it’s silent. It’s a silence of dead things. Ruined things. The silence of something that has ended.
“Well,” says Kellan breezily, “that was interesting.”
Pressing a shaky hand to my forehead, I fight the urge to vomit. I’ve messed up everything. My mind is working a thousand times a minute, but I can’t slow it down long enough to figure out how to move forward, or if that’s even an option.
“Look.” Kellan’s still talking. Why is Kellan always talking? “Everything’s fine. Max is just having a bit of a tantrum—”
I round on him. “God, for once in your life can you just shut the fuck up?” The scream comes from deep in my chest. My throat is on fire.
My twin blinks. His eyebrows lift all the way to his hairline.
Yeah. I’m not much of the screaming type. But this is all his fault. If I said no to switching places with him, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now. I’m the one paying for it. And Max. Kellan gets off without a scratch.
“Wow.” Kellan looks impressed. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Brother.”
How are we even related? Kellan is oblivious to other people’s feelings. It’s my fault. I should have never agreed to Kellan’s fucked up idea in the first place. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s hurt someone I care about. His teammate. “You’re an ass.”
Kellan rears back, and his burly boyfriend growls, “You watch your mouth.”
My laughter hits the tiled walls of the nearby showers. It’s a dead, brittle sound, full of regret. It’s too late to change things. The damage has already been done. “What the fuck are you going to do, punch me in the face for talking to my own brother?” I bite out, feeling powerful enough to rip this guy in half with my bare hands. He could probably crush my head between his pinkies. Doesn’t even register right now.
“Okay,” says Kellan, lifting his hands, “let’s just chill out for a minute.”
“You don’t get it,” I snap. “Max—” My voice fails me. What can I even say at this point that would make Kellan understand? He and I are nothing alike. Kellan takes nothing seriously. Kellan doesn’t do relationships. Or he didn’t. Hard to say with this Adonis claiming he’s Kellan’s boyfriend. I thought I didn’t either, but it was never because I didn’t crave connection with someone. It was because I was too afraid to take that risk, convinced no one would evergetme. Then Max came along and blew all my reservations to pieces.
Voice wobbling, I say, “Max thinks I’ve betrayed him. I’m sure he thinks our entire friendship was a lie.”
“Friendship? You sure about that?” My brother crosses his arms over his chest. “Because that kiss didn’t seem like a kiss between friends.”
Shaking my head, I head for the door. Kellan isn’t the one I have to apologize to. It’s Max. I need to catch him before it’s too late.
I tear down the corridor, wondering where he could have gone to. If I found myself in his situation, I’d want to be alone for as long as possible. Not the public bathrooms. Someplace else?
It’s then I remember something he told me once, how he sometimes comes to the stadium in the evenings. He climbs to the highest point because it helps him think.
It takes me less than a minute to find the staircase. I’m dead tired from the game and bruised from the fall I took, but I force my legs into motion, up multiple flights of stairs: five, ten, fifteen flights. The air is dry and icy, yet I’m sweating through the long-sleeved thermal I wear under Kellan’s soccer jersey. His damned cleats make it difficult to run on the pavement. I consider pulling them off but I’m afraid I’ll get frostbite on my toes.
Once I reach the top, I shove open the door and find myself high in the stands, the green strip of field small and the players like ants below. Hardly anyone is up this high. But there’s Max standing at the wall, looking beyond where the town’s lights glow in the dark.
Max looks over, jaw clenched in pain, his eyes red. The sight makes my stomach cramp.
“Max.” Cautiously, I go to him, but he holds up a hand.
“I don’t want you near me right now.” His eyes are hard, cold, unrecognizable. The tightness around his mouth speaks of pain—pain I put there.
Another blow to the heart. It’s to be expected, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept. “I’d like to explain.”
