“I should’ve never been born,” he said, his tone turning to more of a whisper.
“We don’t really get a choice in that,” I replied. “Think of existence as… a giant fission reactor, but instead of atoms colliding, it’s how we interact with other people that creates the chain reaction. Every meeting changes the course of a person’s life, and then they change the lives of others. It could be for the best or for the worst, but in the end, we all end up where we need to be with the people we’re meant to be with.”
Austin glared at me. “A fission reactor?”
“I suck at metaphors, okay. Did it at least make sense?”
The anger that held him hostage began to lift, and he let out a laugh that shook the bed.
“You’re a fuckin’ nerd.”
I got flashbacks to that night with Roscoe.
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.”
Austin’s laughter faded to a light chuckle, and he shoved me with his elbow. “Uh oh, I think you might go supercritical now.”
“You’re an ass,” I said, but paused. “You’re obviously smarter than you let people think. Why in the hell do you hide it?”
“It’s easier to be stupid.”
“Well, yeah, to a certain extent,” I said, choosing my next words carefully. “I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in here right now.”
“Why?” he asked, more serious this time. “What do you get out of it? Does playing shrink make you feel better about yourself?”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it? I’ve gone out of my way to treat you like shit, but you’re like a gnat that I can’t get out of my face.” He turned toward me again. “Now that’s a metaphor.”
“It’s actually a simile.”
Austin growled. “You can’t even make a fucking sandwich. Pathetic.”
“Maybe I did that on purpose, so you’d makemethe sandwich.”
We both went quiet, save for the steady breeze whistling into the room through the window screen.
“Well played,” he finally said, his hand brushing mine. “What you said earlier—I never thought about it that way before.”
“I wish I could say I came up with it, but I heard it from some BluTube video a while ago.”
“Even the fission part?”
“I ad-libbed a little.”
It was risky, but I wanted to see how far I could go with him. Maybe I could hold his hand, since he was too big to lay in my lap like he had with Roscoe. I kind of expected him to swat me away, but he didn’t. Instead, his massive hand enveloped mine.
“My old man had a lot of mental problems. When he took his meds, he was fine, but if he missed a dose, he got really crazy. The last time he took his medicine, he forgot to take it again and was convinced it was mind-control. I was eight and my brother was five when my mom woke us up in the middle of the night and drove us to Gram’s house.”
His breathing was shallow and quick, but I kept a tight hold on his hand.
“That night, Dad showed up ranting about how we weren’t really his family—that we were all replacements sending information back to some secret government agency to track him. Mama called the cops, but he broke in and shot her in the head with Grandpa’s revolver.” He tensed, his shaky grip on my hand tightening. “Grams was screaming, but he shot her too. My brother and I ran into the bedroom, but he followed us. Another shot, and my brother let go of my hand and fell to the floor. All I remembered after that was two more shots, and a loud high-pitched ringing in my ears. I woke up in the hospital, in an empty room with a bunch of machines. I felt like the only one on the planet, all alone. Scared and confused.”
My mouth hung open as tears filled my eyes, turning the room into a glass bowl. I didn’t know how to react to something so unbelievably tragic.
