sort of: “What happened with Doug?” he asked instead, like possibly he’d made a list of annoying, invasive questions in his head on the drive over here and was determined to work his way through each and every one. “You start working for him yet or what?”
Colby shook his head. “Didn’t work out.”
Matt smirked over his sub. “Because he tried to date you?”
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Colby snapped, surprising himself a little. “I swear to God, Matt, you say shit like that and it makes you sound like a joke, not him.”
Matt raised his eyebrows and Colby got ready to argue, but then Matt just sort of shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “Sorry.”
Huh. Colby tilted his head, surprised; that was a lot easier than he’d thought it would be, actually. He wanted to tell Meg, only then he remembered he and Meg weren’t talking anymore. He put his sandwich down.
Neither one of them said anything for a minute. Colby could hear a pair of birds chattering away in the trees. The sun beat down on the back of his neck, insistent; probably he was going to get a burn. “I fucked it up,” he said finally. “The job with Doug. Is that what you want to hear? I actually wanted it this time, and I blew it.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “That’s not what I want to hear at all, actually,” he said quietly. “That sucks.”
“Uh-huh.” Colby kicked at the bumper. “Sure it’s not.”
“I’m serious,” Matt said. “Believe it or not, asshole, I actually want you to succeed.”
Colby glanced at him sidelong, looking for the catch; still, he had to admit Matt sounded sincere. “Okay.”
Matt sighed. “Look,” he said, rattling the ice in his waxy paper cup of Coke, “I’m sorry about what happened at the house that day. No matter how pissed I was, I shouldn’t have said—”
“Dude, I don’t want to start . . .” Colby shook his head. “We were both idiots. It’s fine.”
“No, I know, but what I said about you and Dad—”
“Matt, really.”
“Fuck, man, can you just let me say this?” Matt looked irritated. “Jesus. Dad was sick, and I don’t blame him for what he did. For a long time I did, but not anymore.”
Colby swallowed the last of his sandwich, the bread sticking in his throat a little. “Oh no?”
“No,” Matt said. “But that shit runs in families, and I don’t want . . .”
Colby felt his eyes widen. “I’m not going to kill myself, Matty.” He blew a breath out, this strangled-sounding laugh. “Jesus.”
“I know that,” Matt said quickly. “Of course I know that, I just . . .” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault you were the baby, okay? That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t blame anybody for . . . anything. It is what it is, that’s all.”
Colby glanced over at him, squinting a little in the sunlight. He’d known it was true, he guessed, that there wasn’t anything he could have done to change what happened; still, it was different to actually believe it. “It must have sucked for you,” he allowed after a moment, which was the most generous thing he’d said to his brother possibly ever. “Having to know all that stuff while I was walking around with my thumb up my ass thinking everything was fine.”
Matt shrugged. “It didn’t tickle, no.”
“No,” Colby echoed. “I guess not.”
“I used to be so fucking jealous of you,” Matt continued, almost to himself. “Because you guys had this great relationship, you know? And it was like I had seen too much or knew too much for him to ever have that with me. But you still got to hero-worship him; you didn’t know any better. So it was like when he was with you he still liked himself or something.”
“I didn’t hero-worship him,” Colby said immediately, feeling himself bristle.
“Dude, it’s not a knock on you,” Matt said. “It doesn’t make you an idiot to believe in your father, of all people. And just because he didn’t turn out to be the perfect guy you thought, just because he had demons or whatever, doesn’t mean it’s stupid to believe in anything else ever again, either.”
Colby dropped his head forward, rubbing at the too-hot back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said, because it seemed pretty clear he had to say something. Already his brother’s words were worming their way into his skull. “I hear you.”
For a second, it seemed like Matt was going