He pushed himself away from the railing at the edge of the patio and walked over to sit on his patio sofa, hoping his heavy coat, old Stanford beanie, and fresh cup of chamomile and lavender tea would keep him warm enough for a little while longer.
He didn’t want to go back inside yet.
“Well, you sound a bit sad,” Krista said quietly. “I’m sure you’re still a lunkhead, but we can talk about that later. Everything... didn’t go quite as youexpected with Rye?” Krista’s voice was reluctant, like maybe she didn’t really want to know. Or maybe she just didn’t want to ask because she could tell Jakewassad.
“Not at all as expected, no,” he answered slowly, and he closed his eyes and took a short sip of his tea.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Hah, you’re giving me a choice, are you?” Jake leaned forward and set his tea down on the table in front of him.
“Oh, no, not at all. Just giving you theillusionof having a choice,” Krista teased with a light laugh, although she followed it up with a quick and much more serious, “I’m kidding, of course. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Jake was silent for several seconds. Then he sighed and reached up to rub his eyes. “I do want to talk about it actually.”
“Ahh, see! I knew it! When am I evernotintuitive?” she joked, and although her tone was teasing again, there was something different to it still.
Jake frowned. “You knew... I wanted to talk?”
She huffed another laugh. “Well, yeah, that. I mean, why else wouldyouhave calledme, and before eight o’clock, even?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, sitting back into the sofa cushions again and closing his eyes.
“Sorry, little brother, you do sound sad. Is everything okay?” Serious Krista was here now. The one he knew would listen to his rambling explanation of the last few hours and give him the honest advice he needed.
“It . . . will be?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Jake laughed, though he didn’t really feel the humor in it. “Uh, both, I think?”
And so, he started into what did end up being a long, rambling explanation—starting from Rye’s slow deterioration over the course of the day and his collapse outside Jake’s car, and ending with Jake’s completely unjustified feelings of wanting to head back to the Davis home to make sure Rye was okay.
Because for some reason, that also seemed like something he needed to tell her.
She stayed silent the entire ramble, not even interrupting him once—which was a miracle in itself. Then he heard her shudder, her breath ragged and shaky. “God, Jake...”
“I-I know.”
Neither of them spoke for what might have been a minute or two, and Jake found himself absently rubbing his leg, though it didn’t really hurt anywhere near as much as it had earlier in the day. He closed his eyes.
“Do you remember watching the news?” he asked, but he didn’t give her time to answer as he voiced all the other words that had been running through his head for the better part of the evening. “God, Kris, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was him, and I can’t... I can’t evenimaginehow... or, I mean, what... what he must have gone through. And I...” He trailed off and brought his free hand up to rub his eyes.
“I think maybe you shouldn’t,” his sister said softly.
“I shouldn’t what?”
“Try to imagine it, what he went through.” There was a quiet sniffle, which made Jake frown. Then Krista continued. “It was probably awful, and I feel like...”
Krista sighed in a way that told Jake she was sad now too, and his heart hurt even more. He cleared his throat, wanting to apologize, but she started talking again before he could.
“I feel like maybe Rye will tell you if he wants to, when he’s ready.”
It was a strange thing to say, and Jake found himself shifting a bit uncomfortably. He sat up, shaking his head again, and then stood, needing to move... or something.
“Why would he tell me? I’m just . . . I mean, I’m just . . .”
“...the first friend he had once he... found his way out of whatever situation he’d been in,” Krista finished for him. “You do realize you may have been the first one—” Her voice broke in a quiet sob, and she sniffled again and cleared her throat. “Sorry, I, um, I just think, maybe you might have been the first person who cared about him in... a very long time.”
