“Thinking,” he says.
“About Kennedy?”
He darts me a withering look and goes back to staring at the water.
But I can’t back down. People are going to keep talking about the Abbotts’ possible involvement in Kennedy’s murder regardless of how antisocial Adam behaves. Hell, Lydia apparently shared her secret boyfriend theory with the detectives. Time isn’t exactly on the brothers’ side.
“Lydia Costas is talking to the detectives, Adam. She’s claiming that Kennedy was seeing one of you.”
He scoffs. “Seeingone of us?”
“As in dating one of you. In secret.”
He chuckles, and then, before I know what’s happening, he pushes back the hood and thrusts his face closer to mine, teeth bared. “Look at me, Hayden,” he spits, causing me to flinch.
But I do what he asks, my eyes following the paths of scars over the right half of his face, shiny and pink. The missing eyebrow, his right eye in a constant squinted state, having sustained damage from the flames. It’s only a moment before he lifts his hand to shield that eye from the sun.
But the hand—that’s where the real damage lies. I know that’s what bothers Adam more than his face. His right hand, half of the equation when it came to receiving passes on the football field. Now, with the grafted skin still in delicate condition and most of the feeling gone in his fingers, Adam can barely hold a pencil. In fact, the doctors encouraged him to try to switch everything to his left. He’s obstinate, so he keeps trying to use the right. From what Henry has told me, though, these efforts always result in frustration and meltdowns.
“Adam.” I scoot closer to him, but he inches away again.
“You think any girl would want to be with me now that I look like this?”
“You want my honest answer?”
“Not really,” he says dismally, still shielding his eyes as he watches a bird pause on the railing before flitting down to the pond.
I pretend to evaluate him. “I think that yes, any girl would wantto be with you. I think the main thing you lost in the accident was your confidence. But you’ll get it back. You’re just as handsome as before, only with a slightly more…rugged look. Which has been hot ever since the dawn of time.” I cut him off before he can tell me to go to hell. “But you’ve been hiding under that hood.”
“It’s chilly out.”
I sigh. “You really won’t tell me about Kennedy?”
“I didn’t have a secret relationship with Kennedy Russo. I’d be happy if I never had to hear the name Russo again. The last thing I’d do is spend time with that girl.”
“Because of the school board campaign?” I guess it makes sense. Dr. Russo’s word holds a lot of weight with the people in this town. When he implied the brothers were dangerous, most of the parents turned against the boys. Their children, the student population of Silver Springs High, soon followed.
“Something like that,” he says, running his fingers gently over the delicate flesh of his right hand. “Let’s just say that as sorry as I am that Kennedy died, I’m not sorrythat manlost a daughter.”
I’m taken aback by his words. By the scorn and utter hatred in them. It isn’t like Adam at all. He’s used to people gossiping about him and his brothers. “You don’t mean that.”
His face is still hard when he says, “No, I guess not.”
“Adam, did something happen in that hospital room?” What made the doctor turn against him the way he did?
When he doesn’t respond, I add, “You can talk to me, anytime. Or…kick a soccer ball with me.” I know it’s not soccer he longs toplay, but it’s all I can offer, considering his limitations.
He starts picking the white paint off the bridge beam in front of him, his lack of response a dismissal. Only I can’t help but push things. “What about your brothers?”
“What about them?” he snaps.
“Was one of them seeing Kennedy?”
He laughs, a scornful sound. “They’re yourbest friends. You say it all the time. But you’re askingme?”
My heart twists. I didn’t realize how careless I’d been in the past. How much it hurt Adam. “They’re your brothers, though. You guys share everything.”
“Not anymore. Not in a long time.” He pulls the hood back up, and I know he’s done talking.
