put my head on his shoulder. I would never take him for granted again.
“Now,” he said, “let’s have a conversation that’s all about me.” He pointed both thumbs at his chest and grinned like an idiot.
“Agreed.” I laughed. “So, then how are you?”
Ripley’s grin dissolved. “Kind of a mess.”
“Why?”
“I just—I shouldn’t have have left Jude.”
I felt a stab of guilt—he had left his brother behind for me, and I had even shamed him for it. God, I could be a monster.
Ripley sensed my distress. “No, Ellie—look, I’m glad I came and helped and everything. But while I was gone, my mother moved back in.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. She brought meth, and she got my dad high that night. He fell off the wagon big-time, and they went on a bender. By the time I got home, Jude was holed up in his room, living off Pringles and peanut butter.”
I put a hand over my mouth. “Ripley, I’m so sorry.”
He gave a half-hearted nod. “Sometimes I wonder if Jude would be better off in foster care. But then I think I’m selfish for even thinking that. Because maybe I’m not worried about his best interests. Maybe I just want to get away. Escape. Go to college.”
I tried to think of something to say that might pull him out of his misery. I was no good at comfort; I was usually the one being comforted.
“Where would you go? If money wasn’t an issue. If you had your pick.”
“MIT.” He said it like he was pronouncing the name of someone who had just died. “La Sorbonne. University of Fucking Jupiter. It doesn’t matter; I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be stuck on the shitty side of Park Hills until I die.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds, and then Ripley shook his head like a wet dog.
“So, that’s self-pity. Huh. I can see the appeal.”
I laughed. Ripley downed the rest of his soda and crushed the can in his hand, making a mad wrestler face.
“Where do you get all that energy?”
“Meth. Just kidding. Good genes? HA!” He cracked another soda. “Okay, we haven’t talked about you in like seven minutes. I’m starting get uncomfortable. Can I ask you something?”
“Only if it’s superficial.”
He made a game-show-buzzer sound. “Errrrnt! Not happening.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, and then Ripley’s expression turned serious.
“Are you going to tell your dad?”
“Tell him what?”
He raised his eyebrows. “About your . . . suicide attempt.”
“No,” I said, all humor draining from my body. “No way.”
“Okay. I get it.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Is it because of your mom?”
I broke eye contact.
“You never talk about it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, but maybe you should. If not with me, with someone. Keeping that kind of thing inside . . . can break you. I’ve seen it.”
Reluctantly, I nodded. Ripley’s family had self-destructed, and as a result, he hated secrets. He tried to respect my boundaries, but I knew it was hard for him when I held things back. He knew my mom had died by suicide—I’d told him ages ago—but I’d never told him how. I had never told anyone; I hadn’t wanted to say it out loud.
But maybe Ripley was right. Maybe keeping it inside was breaking me. Before I could form the words in my mind, I felt them creeping up my throat like hot bile.
“She drowned herself in the bathtub,” I said. “Dad and I were in the other room. Ten feet away.”
“Oh, Jesus, Ellie.”
A drop of water fell from my hair to land on my thigh, cold and slick.
“I’ve been so angry at her for so long,” I said. “I thought she chose death over us. Over me. But now, I don’t think she chose at all. I think she was just unlucky. Her sickness won.”
Ripley replied, his voice strong and clear. “And you can’t afford to underestimate yours anymore.”
I bit my lip. “No. I can’t.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.
Ripley sat up and cleared his throat dramatically. “Now, on to more important business: my VIP tickets for this show you’re in. I’m going to need a limo, too, considering my current transportation situation.”
I laughed, he laughed, and then we fell into a perfectly comfortable silence. He sipped his soda. I scarfed a donut.
“Can you stay on with me for a while? Until I fall asleep?”
“It is my duty as a Huffnabler.”
I plugged in my phone, put it on speaker, and laid my head against the pillow.
CHAPTER 32
I STOOD ON THE BALCONY, sipping coffee