Tean was going to be mad at him.
That thought floated up out of the stirred-up memories.
Tean was going to besomad at him.And he was right to be mad.Because they were together, right?They were boyfriends or partners or whatever you wanted to call it.And when push came to shove, when it had been time to choose, Jem had chosen Brigitte over Tean.
And she’d chosen someone else over Jem.
The worst part was that Jem had known.He’d known she’d been lying.He could hear it; she was a good liar, but not as good as Jem.But he’d kept choosing her.He’d kept taking her side.Hell, he’d gotten pissed at Tean when he should have been pissed at her.He could have said,Let’s take a break.He could have said,We all need a minute.And instead, he’d let it keep going.He’d made it worse.He should have stopped, but he kept going.He’d known he was pushing Tean’s buttons, and he’d kept pushing.Back in their room, when Tean was still talking about it, Jem had known that avoiding the conversation was only going to make Tean work harder.He’d known that Tean wouldn’t let it go.He’d known he needed to be the one to hit the brakes.And instead, he’d just kept making it worse.
Why?
He’d been in a nice house one time.A young couple.Lots of money.And they’d wanted a big family—that was a Mormon thing.It had been good at the beginning because Jem was old enough to know how to play along, and he was tired of bouncing around, and they weren’t too annoying about the church stuff.It seemed like it might work.Then they’d gotten the twins, Jackson and Jackie, a boy and a girl.They’d been seven or eight.A lot younger.And—and bad.That word floated up in his head in a kid’s voice.They’d been bad.They’d broken the big TV.They’d used markers on the walls.Jackson had started a fire in the basement.
And then they all had to go.
And then, for Jem, LouElla’s.
He’d understood, in a way, what was happening.Because he’d been in care long enough.Seen it before, although not like that.
When you didn’t have any control over the big stuff, you used the little stuff.
When the future was scary because anything could happen, you did whatever you could so that the one thing you could count on was sure to happen.Even if it was bad.Even if it wasn’t what you really wanted.Because familiar—predictable—was safe.
When someone you loved started acting differently, you got scared.And when you got scared, you wanted control.And you always knew how to make him mad.
Jem patted himself down.He found the prescription vials he’d taken from Stephen’s bathroom—the two that had been prescribed to Jacob B., and the one for Jessica Brown.The one he thought might be an Ambien.
He opened the Coke.He popped the maybe-Ambien.
Tinajas had told him, when he’d talked about Jackson and Jackie, why they did it.She’d explained it.
He closed his eyes.
Because, dumbass, she’d said, like it was obvious, like he should have figured it out himself.We’re all our own self-destruct buttons.
35
Waking came by degrees.First, an awareness of his body—loose, ropey, soft.And then a scuffing noise he recognized as a footstep.A whisper.The creak of pleather from one of the recliners.Jem’s head felt like it was two inches thicker than it should have been.Someone was there.Close.Instead of the tightrope sense of danger, though, he started drifting again.
When he came back the second time, he opened his eyes.
Someone was shining a flashlight in his face.
He made a sound that wasn’t a word and held up a hand; his body felt heavier than it should have been.
Laughter.
A child’s laughter.
And then a girl saying, “Put it down, Milo.”
The angle of the light changed.Spots hung in Jem’s vision, floating as he blinked his eyes.The theater was still dark, but the darkness was broken now by twin bands of lights that moved restlessly back and forth.Jem’s vision adjusted.And then he could see them.
Milo hung over the back of the recliner in front of Jem.The light gleamed off his blond hair, and he was grinning like he’d played a trick on Jem.He also had one hand raised, and he was stretching over the back of the seat toward Jem.
The realization was sludgy, but it finally landed.Jem made the effort to raise his hand again, and he slapped Milo five.
“Are you sick?”Maeve asked.“Brigitte always gets sick after she invites Sundae and Rexleigh over.”
