Easton steps aside and holds out his hands like he’s showing off a new boat Marcus bought.
“Ta-da!”
“Yeah, looks... great.” Honestly, it looks like something from a horror movie. Like a group of lost hikers would stumble upon this and then one of them would go into the woods to pee only to be decapitated by the lunatic who built the hut. There’s a dirty green beach towel on the ground inside—acting as a rug, I guess.
“You helped me build this,” Easton clarifies.
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. Paddling over here helped with the never-ending anxiety and feeling of being trappedthat comes with living at the Beaumonts’, but now the guilt is back. I didn’t help build this; Nate did. Easton thinks he’s sharing a special moment with his little brother, but I’m just some random kid.
Easton crouches down, then crawls into the stick hut. He goes back as far as he can to the dead tree. He sits cross-legged and looks up at the structure with childlike eyes. Then he smiles at me and pats the beach towel in front of him.
I sit at the entrance to the hut. It’s not big enough for both of us to sit in—at least, not without touching the musty blankets on the sides. Though maybe it was big enough when Nate was six and Easton was nine.
He grows serious and draws a line in the dirt next to him. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I want to say no. Keep your secret, Easton. I’m not worthy of a secret. Especially not since you spilled your heart out to me last night. Talking about all the guilt you’ve kept for so damn long, thinking Nate was dead.
“Is it a fun secret?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. And maybe also hint that he can keep it to himself if he wants.
He frowns and turns his attention back to me. “What secretsarefun, Nate?”
Got me there, bitch. So far, none of the secrets in my life have been fun.
“Surprise party,” I say as soon as the idea pops into my head.
He doesn’t smile or laugh. Just stares at me for a few more seconds like he’s trying to figure out if I’m joking or if I really think surprise parties are the only fun secrets to have.
“That day.” He doesn’t need to clarify which one. “I wasn’t at JT’s house like I told the police I was. I hid here.”
Hiding? From what? Who? I don’t know how to ask, and honestly I don’t know why I want to so badly. But Miles’s offer pops into my head. It’s new information that he doesn’t know. Would it be enough to get him to help me escape from this place?
“Why?”
“Because I thought Dad would be pissed at me. I still don’t remember what we argued about, but I know I shoved you and you pushed me back and we kind of fought. And you said you were going to tell on me when he got home. So I got a kayak and paddled out here by myself. That’s why you got kidnapped.”
Jesus, this kid. How much guilt has he been carrying for the past ten years? I’d feel bad for Easton any day of the week for holding on to this secret for so long, but knowing that he’s confessing it to me, thinking I’m Nate, makes it so much worse. And why the hell are Valencia and Marcus paying for my therapy but neglecting their actual son whoclearlyneeds it?
“Stop saying shit like that,” I say. He looks into my eyes and it seems like he’s about to cry. His eyes aren’t glassy, but his face is twisted in pain. “What happened to me isn’t your fault.”
He lets out a bark of a laugh and shakes his head. “You can say that all you want, but it doesn’t make it any truer.”
And it definitely doesn’t help him feel less guilty.
“Why did you tell everyone you were at JT’s instead of out here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I was still scared I’d get in trouble with Dad. I wasa kid, so I don’t think I realized how serious it was. When Mom and Dad asked me where I’d been, I panicked and said at JT’s because I didn’t want to get in trouble for fighting with you, for going to the fort without you. And...” He stops and sighs, and when he speaks again it sounds like he can’t even believe he’s telling me this. “This is also our place. They knew we came out here, but they didn’t know about the fort. They thought we were playing around on the island. We promised each other not to tell them, that it would be our secret place. I wanted to keep that promise.”
And once the lie was out, he couldn’t go back on it. Not even when the police came and started asking questions.
I know the feeling.
“Well, stop worrying about it at least. I’m here, right?” It’s the one lie that I can’t go back on, after all.
He laughs and looks back up at the structure, pushing at the sticks. “I think we need to expand. Or build an addition at the very least.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We should probably do that on a day when Mom isn’t going to return to the house to find us both gone.”
In reality, I don’t want to mess with something he built with his brother. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I helped take this apart and put some other fort up instead. I imagine Easton paddling out here by himself after I’m gone and he’s found out the truth. Crying as he destroys the fort and wondering if his real brother is alive or dead.
