Part 52 (1/2)

As I head downstairs, the house is quiet and I don't expect to see anyone else. My dad left last night for Toronto, Seth yesterday morning for wherever his next game is, and while Laurence and Matty are still here, I a.s.sume they don't care to say good-bye to me, which is fine by me. Kind of. Whatever.

Dropping my bag at the bottom of the stairs, I head into the kitchen to get some leftovers Julian said he'd have for me. The kitchen is empty and I wonder where he is. He said he'd see me off, but I don't see him and that makes me sad. While I may not think we need him, I love him. He's always been really nice to me. Shrugging, I head to the fridge, getting out the plate that has my name on it before putting it in the microwave. Leaning against the counter, I wait as I play on my phone, stalking Baylor's and Claire's Facebook pages. They asked me to be friends this past weekend, which was surprising since I thought Jace would tell them we broke up. I'm a.s.suming he didn't because we are friends now, and it's cool. I love looking back and watching Jace grow through their pictures. He's so hot.

When I hear a text sound, I look around confused, since my phone didn't go off. Looking to the island in the middle of the kitchen, I see a phone, blinking with a text. When it goes off four more times in a row, my brows mush together. Whose phone is that? I don't want to be nosy, but when it goes off four more times, I take a step toward it, leaning my forearms on the counter until it's in my view. I know I'm wrong with this, but it could be an emergency.

Graham: Dude, really?

Graham: What did I do? I thought we were going somewhere.

Graham: I mean, I've been falling for you and I thought you were too.

Graham: Let's discuss this. I don't want to break up.

Graham: I love you, Matty.

My eyes widen and my heart jumps into my throat.

Holy f.u.c.k.

It lights up again with another text and my eyes get even bigger.

Graham: We can tell them together. My parents understand, they love you like I do. Let's tell your parents. Don't end this. This is good. We are happy.

”Oh my Go-” Before I can even finish my sentence, I'm being pushed into the fridge and Matty's hand is at my throat. My hands come to his wrists, crying out. ”Let me go,” I struggle to say.

”What the h.e.l.l are you doing?”

I slap at his arms but he doesn't budge, and panic settles in my chest because I can't breathe. He doesn't look like he is going to let me go either. His eyes are wild, bloodshot, and his breathing is erratic, almost like he's been crying. That can't be right. Matty has no feelings. But one thing is for sure, I have to get out of his grip. I bring my knee up and he folds over, holding his groin as I get away, going around the island and out of his reach.

”Don't f.u.c.king touch me,” I yell at him, and he leans on the island, glaring at me.

”What did you see? f.u.c.king tell me, you b.i.t.c.h!”

”Oh, nothing much,” I say, my eyes locked in his intense and angry gaze. ”Only that you're gay,” I throw back at him and his eyes bug out.

”Shut your wh.o.r.e mouth!”

”Oh, why? You scared someone will hear me? I can't believe that, instead of telling our parents, you'd rather break up with your boyfriend.”

”Shut your f.u.c.king mouth. You know nothing.”

”I know that Graham is in love with you. And if you touch me,” I say when he moves toward me, ”I'll tell Mom and Dad. I'll tell the world.”

”They won't believe you.”

”I don't care. I'll still tell 'em.”

”You think I care?”

”I know you do.” I see the panic in his eyes. Holy s.h.i.+t, my brother is gay. I mean, it doesn't change anything. He's still a douche, but this is huge. It makes no sense. I never saw this coming. Never. ”Wow. I'm a little flabbergasted.”

”You don't know what you're talking about.”

”So, you aren't gay?” I ask, the cold, blank stare he is setting me with giving me chills. He looks so angry, so upset, and somewhere deep inside me, I feel for him. But then I remember what he has done to me, and my sympathy is nowhere in sight.

Especially when he yells, ”f.u.c.k you, Avery! Go slit your wrists.”

”That's all you have on me,” I murmur, shaking my head, my last ounce of sympathy flying out the window. ”But at least I've never been anyone but myself. I may have been a little messed up, but I've always been me. You, though, you're hiding, tormented by the man you really are. So really, who's suffering? Because I'm not. I'm happy. You...You're just sad.”

”I'm not hiding s.h.i.+t.”

”Oh? Really, call Graham over. I'd love to meet him.”

His eyes are wild, his jaw clenching, and I really don't know this person. Where is the twin who used to play dolls with me when we were little? Oh. Wow, maybe there were signs?

”Just f.u.c.king go. Get out of my life.”

”I'm leaving, after I eat my lunch and watch you squirm with nervousness that I could out you.” I hate that it has come to this. I'm not a mean person, but he's done this. He's caused me to be as nasty to him as he has been to me.

”You wouldn't dare. I'd kill you.”

See? ”I'm not scared of you, Matty. How could I be? You're a fraud. I may be considered crazy and suicidal, but at least I'm me.”

”Which is nothing.”

”To you, I'm nothing. But I'm something to someone special.”

”Ha, that Sinclair b.a.s.t.a.r.d? Please, he's using you.”

”Aw, are you jealous my boyfriend is hotter than yours?” I ask.

He takes a step toward me, venom in his voice. ”Shut your f.u.c.king mouth!”

”Get away from me.”

”I'm allowing you to breathe, Avery. Remember that,” he seethes and I scoff.

”Please. You won't touch me,” I say, holding up my phone to show that I've been recording this whole conversation. ”One click, it's on Facebook.” His eyes move to my phone as I hit the b.u.t.ton and my voice fills the room, asking if he is gay. ”Now stay the f.u.c.k away from me.”

Shaking his head, he glares. ”Fine, as long as you stay away from me.”

He holds my gaze and I actually feel the loss of him. We've drawn the line in the sand. We will never have a relations.h.i.+p after this, not that I expected we could anyway.

But it still hurts as he points at me. ”Don't you dare say anything.”

”I don't owe you anything,” I say simply. The panic is flas.h.i.+ng in his eyes. He s.n.a.t.c.hes his phone and storms out of the kitchen. When I hear the front door slam, I fall back into a chair and shake my head.

Jesus.

My brother is gay?