“Why are you nice to my brother?”
My mom made mewasn’t a valid excuse anymore.
“Jasper’s adorable,” I admitted.
James let out a heavy sigh before sitting on the twin bed next to his brother’s. “Yeah, right, my dad’s desperate.”
His admission caught me by surprise.
“What do you mean?” I murmured.
I saw his shoulders wilt.
“He just started middle school. Nobody knows him but everyone’s already making fun of him.”
“That’s terrible. Why?”
His fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie. “For how he is, the way he talks, for . . . everything. So he isolates himself even more.”
I could’ve sworn I heard the clang of James’s heart shattering into a million pieces on the floor. “He’s a sensitive kid. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.” I sat next to him, maybe because talking about Jasper made me forget everything, even the fact that I’d just sat next to the guy I hated more than anyone on the face of the earth.
“Jordan doesn’t know what to do.” He stared into space and kept talking. “He’s tried everything. Primary care doctors, specialists, targeted therapy . . .”
“Is there any margin of improvement?”
We whispered, glancing apprehensively at Jasper, who was sound asleep.
“There would be, but my brother’s also stubborn.”
James bit the inside of his cheek.
“The bullying doesn’t help. It started out as isolated incidents. He stopped talking in class or in situations where he was around people he didn’t know. But then after a period of time, he stopped talking.” I recognized a slight tremble in James’s voice. “Jasper’s smart. He has his own sense of humor, his own personality, and if the others could just get to really know him instead of treating him like a freak . . .”
I tried to say something, but I felt like an idiot faced with James’s pain, despite him suffering in a way that I knew very, very well. What could I say in these cases? I was usually on the receiving end of comforting words; I didn’t know how to give them to others. AnI’m sorrywasn’t enough, and I knew it. Nobody liked pity.
“June, I don’t want Jasper to end up like me.”
I was speechless, and shivers went down my arms.
“You don’t like not being able to defend him, do you?”
James bowed his head and tilted it with a subtle look. “Does my dad pay you?”
“What? What are you talking about? No.”
“So why do you do it? Is your mom really that convincing?” he asked skeptically.
“Yeah, she can be pretty convincing, but I keep doing it because I like to.”
“Why do you want to help me, White?” Again with that stupid question
“I’m not doing it for you. It’s just—”
“What? Spit it out,” he demanded, pressuring me with his glare.
Did he really wanna know? And did I really have to tell him?
“Nothing, maybe I see a bit of myself in you. I had a brother too.” I immediately hid both hands in my hoodie sleeves, as if it was enough to hide the excruciating pain that I’d felt when I’d said that out loud.
