“Nothing,” Crew says. “I was asking Liam about Ella.”
“What about her?” I say.
“Have you seen her since we got back?”
“Nope.”
“You done with that?” Garrett asks.
I sip my whiskey. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“You guys were good together,” Crew says. “You should give it a chance.”
“What the shit?” Garrett says, becoming rigid as he glares across the bar.
A man is staring right back at him. He tosses back his drink and gets up, not breaking eye contact with Garrett. Although they seem surprised to see each other, Garrett is pissed as hell. The other guy, not so much.
“Let’s go,” Garrett says, putting his drink down.
We get up and start for the door.
“Come on, Gare,” the man says behind us.
Garrett spins. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
We exit the bar. The man follows. “Garrett, it’s been five years.”
“And that’s supposed to make everything okay?” Garrett spits.
“You can at least talk to me,” he says.
“I told you to stay the fuck away.”
“Jesus, man, you sure can hold a grudge.” In a split-second, Garrett’s fist connects with the guy’s face. Blood spatters on the sidewalk. He wipes his mouth. “So this is how it is?”
“This is how it is.”
Garrett walks away. We run up behind him. “Who the hell was that?” Crew asks.
He glances back to make sure we’re not being followed. “That was my fucking brother.”
Crew and I look at each other, surprised.
Crew asks, “What—”
“Don’t even ask,” he says, quickening his pace.
After we’ve gone three blocks, he leads us into a bar. We sit and order drinks.
Garrett breaks the awkward silence. “Listen, I know you guys have some messed up shit in your past. I don’t ask you about it. So let’s just leave it at that.”
“Fine by me,” I say. “Shit is better left in the past, if you ask me.”
Two hours later, we stumble home, having sampled almost a dozen bars within walking distance. As soon as we reach our apartment, Garrett races for the bathroom. We can hear him tossing his cookies. Or more accurately, his whiskey.
Crew stops on the way to his room. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
I lift my chin at him, then close my bedroom door. Luke’s letter is where I left it. I fold it, thinking about what Crew said.
When we were eleven, Crew and I were already best friends. Sometimes I wanted to tell him what was going on. Ask him if it was normal. But his parents were going through a divorce. He had his own problems. Both of us were avoiding our fathers but for very different reasons. His was having sex with his secretary. Mine was having sex with me.
One drunken night when we were sixteen, a guy tried to hit on me. I beat the shit out of him, then broke down and told Crew what I’d never told another living soul, that Luke had killed himself because Don was molesting him.
After that, Crew became my sounding board when I needed to talk about Luke. I spoke of his abuse as if it didn’t happen to me, just Luke. But both of us knew I wouldn’t have been privy to such details if it weren’t from personal experience. He listened. He never judged. Others would have called me sick. Gay. Less of a man. But not Crew. I knew he’d be the only one who would understand.
Or so I thought.
I take out my phone and scroll through the pictures of Ella.
Chapter Thirty-four
Ella
I haven’t heard from him in three days. Aside from when he texted me Sunday night, it’s been complete radio silence. Maybe I’m being stupid not texting or calling him. But if he wanted to see me, he’d reach out, right?
Or maybe he’s saying the same thing about me.
No. He’s the one who needs to initiate contact. He’s the one who has issues with having a relationship.
I run in Central Park, and someone yells behind me, “Ella!”
My heart soars and then falls. It’s Corey. I don’t slow down. He goes faster to catch up with me.
“You’re looking tan,” he says, panting. “Beach vacation?”
“Something like that.”
“Were you avoiding me?”
“No.” Yes.
He slows. “Can you stop and talk for a sec? I’ve done five miles, and I’m beat.”
I stop and stare at him, wondering if the old feelings are going to come back. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I haven’t seen you in almost two months. Didn’t you miss me?”
“Do we have to keep having the same conversation, Corey? You cheated on