His expression shifts. “Because of what happened?”
“Because he’s Bowen,” I say, heart in my throat. “And I’m already hurting.”
He blinks, stunned silent for a second, and then he nods. It’s not often I’m honest with him about my feelings for his brother. But tonight, I’m too tired to hide.
He rubs his hand through his messy black hair and lets out a breath. “Kat-boy… I wish I could fix that, too.”
I shrug, helpless. “You can’t.”
The absence of Bowen as a constant in my life has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. When you grow up with someone by your side, it’s like losing a limb when they’re suddenly gone.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Kit. You know that, right?”
I nod.
“Say it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Brett pulls me back into his arms. “Damn right. You’re the best person I know, Kat-boy.”
We sit behind his car in the driveway, the concrete still warm from the day. Brett runs a finger under his nose, sniffling like he’s trying not to cry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. Not like this. Over a movie, sure. But not aboutlife.
He leans back on his hands and looks up at the stars, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re seventeen.”
I don’t say anything. My face still aches. My heart aches worse.
“I remember when you cried because you thought Bowen was going to marry that one girl from third grade,” he continues, smirking a little. “You were so mad at him, Kit. You stomped all the way home and told your mom he was dead to you.”
“Yeah, well,” I mumble. “Guess I was doomed from the start.”
Brett bumps his shoulder against mine. There’s a quiet between us. Not awkward, but heavy. “You’re gonna find someone good, you know,” Brett says after a while, like he needs to say it aloud to manifest a different realityfor me. “Someone who doesn’t make you feel like you have to beg for space in their life. Someone who doesn’t treat you like you’re some problem to figure out.”
“I don’t know how I could ever want anyone else,” I say before I can stop myself. It slips out low and fragile, but fuck, it's the truth.
Brett looks over at me, really looks. His eyes are soft now. No teasing, just a little heartbreak on my behalf.
Before either of us can say anything else, headlights round the corner.
Brett groans. “Shit. That’s him.”
I swallow hard. “Brett, can we go inside?”
“He won’t admit it yet,” Brett murmurs, half to himself, “but he’s always been yours.”
I don’t have time to process what he says before the car pulls into the driveway next door. Bowen climbs out, hoodie half-zipped, hair a mess. His eyes find me immediately, still sitting behind his brother’s Jeep.
He freezes.
And then, just like he used to, he walks towards us.
His steps get faster the closer he gets. Brett doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, just tips his chin towards me like…Well? Would you look at this shit?
“What the fuck happened?” Bowen’s voice is low and cutting as he crouches down in front of me. His eyes rake over my face. “Who the hell did this to you?”
His fingers are already on me, tipping my chin gently to the side to get a better look at my swelling eye. His thumb ghosts over the bruise forming along my cheekbone. He doesn’t say anything about the blood crusted near my mouth, but his jaw clenches tight enough to crack.
“I’m fine," I choke out. How long has it been since he's touched me?
