drop my head. The rain is soaking into my sweatshirt and digging at my skin. “I didn’t want to know if you liked that version of me better than the real me.” I’m shaking now, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold.
“I like both,” she says, and looking back at her almost feels good. I can almost forget that there are more secrets lurking behind this one, that this is only the harmless tip of the iceberg destined to sink us.
“Ridley,” she says, holding out her hand. “Come out of the rain.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s more. And if you knew, you wouldn’t want me under that awning with you.”
“So tell me, then!”
“I can’t!” I shout, staring at the bricks on the wall.
icanticanticanticant
“Ridley, I just found out that the two boys I can’t stop thinking about are the exact same boy, and I don’t ever have to choose, so get over here,” she pleads. “Whatever else there is, we’ll figure it out.”
Oh god, I want to, but.
“No,” I say, so quiet I don’t know how she hears me over the rain.
“How come?”
“Because if we pretend this is all okay, when you find out the truth and stop talking to me—and you will—I’ll lose my fucking mind.” I don’t know if it’s the rain or tears, but my face is wet, so I wipe it with my sleeve and hope she doesn’t see. My hair is slicked down flat against my forehead, the longer strands slipping in front of my eyes. It’s like I’m looking at her through bars. Fitting.
She takes a step toward me, and then another. My mouth has gone dry, and my clothes are soaked, and she’s getting closer and closer, until we’re both standing in the pouring rain. She wraps me in a hug that I want to melt into more than anything, but I don’t. I just stand, straight and rigid, and wait for her to stop. It’s everything I ever wanted, and nothing I deserve.
“You’re shaking.” She puts her hand over mine, lacing our fingers together, and the rain dripping down her face somehow makes her look even more beautiful. “Come on, let’s go back inside. We can talk more while you dry off.”
I almost give in. I almost think that I could belong in a warm, brightly lit room full of books with a girl that didn’t run away. I almost let myself believe that the worst is over, that this is fine. That she never has to learn more than she knows now. That I can have my cake and eat it too. That I can keep her in the dark about who my dad is and keep my dad in the dark about what I found out. That I can make it all work somehow. But she looks at me, relief in her eyes because I’m following her, and I stop. This is wrong.
This is really wrong.
“Peak, wait,” I say, and she turns around.
“What?” she asks, looking a little nervous behind her smile. The divot reappears on her forehead, and I want to smooth it away.
“My full name . . .”
“Is Ridley McDonough. I know, you told me.”
“McDonough is my mom’s last name. I use it when . . . sometimes,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“Okay?” And the divot is bigger, her face more worried.
“My legal name is Ridley Oliver Everlasting.”
She tilts her head. I can tell she’s trying to figure out where she’s heard it before. “Everlasting?” she asks, and then her eyes get wide. “Everlasting, like Everlasting Inc.? Like the family that owns The Geekery?”
I swallow hard and nod.
“Are you messing with me right now?”
“No.” It’s not a lie, but I wish it was. I wish they weren’t my family. I wish—
“What was all this, then?” she shouts. “A trick?”
“No. No! Please don’t think that.” I take a step toward her, but she pulls back.
“I thought people were paranoid after the Trinity Comics thing. But you guys