He sighed. “Maybe. But you didn’t tell the truth either, and that bothers me.” He took a breath, and for once I wasn’t distracted by the breadth of his torso. “I’m not telling you to stop being a publicist. I’m just saying it bothers me.”
It took me a few seconds, but I finally understood. “You hate the spin, even when it’s in your favor.”
He nodded, and there was defeat in the movement. “Spin is what Sophia does. It’s how she destroyed Cassie.”
No way could I touch that without more information. So I put away my anger and tried to focus on his perspective. “I need details. And before you ask, this is all off the record. I’d never tell a soul about anything we say today.” And yet, even as I said the words, I wondered at them. This was the type of thing I’d usually talk to my sister about. Boyfriend troubles and the like. Which, naturally, made me wonder just how much truth was in me. What did it say about me if I promised him that I’d never tell a soul when I knew that I’d want to discuss the details with my sister?
I wouldn’t. But I felt odd knowing I couldn’t. Bailey had always been there to help me see all sides of an issue.
Meanwhile, Connor started absently rubbing his thigh right above his left knee. “Sophia constantly shaded things to Cassie. Your teacher said your grammar and spelling are terrible.” He looked up at me. “I spoke with her English teacher. What she said was that Cassie was so smart, her thoughts came out too fast, and her grammar and spelling suffered.”
“Ouch.”
Connor snorted, and the sound wasn’t pleasant. “That isn’t close to the worst. She told Cassie that her prom date canceled. Well, he did, but Cassie didn’t find out until two days later that it was because his mother had been in a car accident.”
“Sophia knew the truth?”
Connor nodded. “Her exact words were, ‘What did the details matter? He wasn’t taking her to prom.’”
Details like that always mattered.
“I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “Some people are just clueless, you know? They have no idea how someone else is going to receive the information.”
“Sophia’s smarter than that.”
He nodded glumly. “Back when I was in the minors, she told Cassie I didn’t have time for her. That she shouldn’t bother me when I was working so hard. And she told me that Cassie was too caught up with high school and a boyfriend to talk to me.” He glared at the headboard. “None of that was true.”
“Did you ever confront her about it?”
“She said she was protecting us both. That I needed to focus on baseball and that Cassie shouldn’t be so clingy.”
“How did you figure out what happened?”
“I went to one of Cassie’s high school volleyball games. The schedule was on the internet, and I thought I’d surprise her. Only she wasn’t there. They told me she’d quit the team months before.” He shook his head. “I went home to confront her. Sophia was out somewhere. Thank God, she hadn’t changed the locks. I found Cassie on the bathroom floor.”
I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway. “Attempted suicide?”
He nodded, his expression haunted. “Pills. I got her to throw up while we waited for the ambulance. The truth came out over the next few days.”
He was so quiet as he spoke, his words barely audible, his body tightly contained. I could see the pain in him so clearly. It was as if every cell in his body was rigid with it. But he only let it out quietly, in measured words and steady breaths.
Well, I wasn’t so controlled. So while he stared at his swollen knee, I stretched forward and pulled him into my arms. I held him when his back muscles tightened and he refused to rest in my arms. I pressed my cheek to his and kissed the hard jut of his jaw. And I whispered into his ear, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He gripped my elbows but didn’t push me away. “Don’t you get it? She’s my sister. They’re both my sisters. Who else could have known?”
“Your father?”
He snorted, and I didn’t blame him. I knew next to nothing about Connor’s dad. He’d been an academic at a community college but had taken a sabbatical after Connor’s mother had died. Later, he’d gone back to teaching English Literature, though he’d never been to a baseball game, a volleyball game, or set foot outside his campus except to go home and back. I’d wondered if he’d been slightly agoraphobic. Whatever the truth, he hadn’t been a factor in Connor or Cassie’s lives. And then he died a few years ago from a heart attack.
“It’s not your fault.”
He shrugged that off. “It’s Sophia’s fault for doing it. And it’s mine for not looking deeper. For never questioning when she said shit that didn’t make sense.”
He let me hold him for a minute, and maybe he drew comfort from my touch. I couldn’t tell because he eventually pushed me back onto the mattress and held my gaze with a level one of his own.
“I don’t respect liars, Gia. And that includes people who speak in half-truths.” He waited a moment to make sure I understood. “Or with spin.”
Which meant me or anyone who worked in publicity or marketing. What was that but the profession of spin? “Bet you hate politics,” I quipped because that was the only way to cover the sharp bite of pain I suddenly felt.
