I’d laughed then, but stayed quiet now. Nick held me close, and we let whoever it was go to voicemail.
But then Charlie began singing again, and a chill went through me. “I should get that,” I whispered. “Twice in a row…”
Nick groaned and released me after one more kiss. I crawled over to my discarded jacket and pulled my iPhone from its pocket. Charlie, the screen read.
“Hey, everything all right?” I answered.
The line was quiet, before: “I need you.”
I tried to laugh. “Sorry, but I’m busy right now.”
Charlie didn’t. “No, Sage. I need you.”
His voice was dark. Low and dark. “Where are you?” I asked slowly.
“English class,” Charlie said, right as his twin came up behind me and asked who was on the other end of the line. I stepped away from him.
“Are you alone? Is Val with you?”
“No, it’s done, we’re done,” he said, then added, “Sage, my legs don’t work.”
“I’m sorry,” I told Nick once I’d assured Charlie I was on my way. “But I have to go. Charlie needs help.”
“Does he now?”
My spine straightened. If Charlie was dark and stormy right now, Nick sounded light and airy. I had a sinking feeling that too meant bad news. Nick was never sarcastic. “I’m going to go,” I said again. “He’s messed up.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Seriously?” Nick said. “You’re actually going to leave? After we just—” He cut himself off. “Charlie might’ve messed up, but he’s fine.” He sighed the exasperated mom sigh. “He’s always fine.”
Oh, Nick, I thought, tears welling up. Have you talked to him lately? Charlie was most definitely not fine. He called when he couldn’t sleep, kept running after I stopped, and when we hung out, he wasn’t really there. He’d lost so much weight and looked so sad all the time.
And I know why, I wanted to say. I know what I’ve been suspecting is true. He’s buried it for so long, but it’s becoming harder and harder, because someone unexpected has come into play…and he’s scared.
But before I could really respond, Nick muttered something…something that sounded a lot like: “I can’t do this anymore.”
Suddenly my heart was in my throat. “Wait, what?”
Nick exhaled a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, Sage, but I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. I want you, but not if you don’t want me.”
“What?” I shoved my phone into my pocket. Charlie would have to hang tight for a second. “What are you talking about? Of course I want you!” I laughed. “I mean, we…” I gestured to the blanket.
Nick’s voice got quiet. “Yeah, we did,” he said. “We slept together.”
And it was epic, I waited for him to add like earlier. It was everything.
He didn’t. Instead, he said, “But it’s time to cut the crap, Sage. I’m your second choice.”
All I could do was shake my head.
Nick nodded his. “Yes, I am. We both know it. Stop pretending otherwise. I will always be second place to Charlie.” He paused. “And I’m such an idiot. Because I hoped things would change. That if I did things your way—kept us a secret—you’d feel the same way I do, the way I’ve felt for years…” He stopped speaking and rubbed his forehead. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“No, it’s not like that,” I tried, stomach squirming. “Charlie and I, we’re not—”
“But you want to be,” he cut me off. “You two are all over each other whenever he’s not with someone, you rejected me for homecoming to go with him, and whenever we are together, he’s all you want to talk about.” His voice dropped. “Now you’re about to ditch me to rescue him. He’s why you won’t be my girlfriend. You’re in love with him, and you want to be free when he finally realizes he’s in love with you.”
Tears streamed down my face. “Nick, please, you have to understand, that’s not why I…” I trailed off, unsure what to say. I couldn’t tell him about Charlie, and I still wasn’t sure he’d understand the truth. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be all-in right now. I didn’t even know where I wanted to go to school if it wasn’t with Charlie and Nick! I wasn’t sure I knew how to be my own person without them and that scared me. I couldn’t be what Nick needed, I couldn’t give that to him right now.
Nick took my silence to mean he was right. “If you really can’t stay here, with me, and talk this out, then I can’t do this. We’ll go back to being friends, classmates, or neighbors,” he said. “Whatever you want to call it. But I can’t be with someone who doesn’t really want to be with me…who wishes she were with my brother instead.”
“That’s not true,” I blurted. “It’s absolutely not true. You have no idea…”
“You should go, Sage,” Nick murmured, turning away to start folding up our blanket. “Charlie needs you.”
Chapter 16
Charlie
After running into Luke and Sage at the movies, the night sped up and soon broke into fragments. I first remembered getting really drunk and breaking up with Val. “So admit it, asshole,” she’d said. “I want you to admit it. That you run away from anything remotely serious because you’re incapable of feeling anything for anyone who isn’t Sage. You love her, but you’re too scared to do anything about it!”
Everything was swaying by the time Sage showed up later, old floorboards creaking beneath her feet. Her voice sounded warped, like we were underwater. “Charlie.”
I’m sorry, I was about to say, because she was already crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed with tears trailing down her cheeks.
She stole the Bacardi from me. “What is this?”
“Rum!” I crowed, but my voice more so warbled. “It could do with some Coke, but—”
“No,” she spat out. “What is this doing here? Where did you get it?”
I groaned.
“Answer me, Charlie.”
“I’m so tired.” I shook my head. “So, so tired.”
“Well, yeah,” she said, her voice still harshly distorted. “It looks you just drank a whole handle of pure alcohol.”
“No,” I groaned again, letting my shoulders slump. “So tired of being this guy, Sage. So tired of practicing that smile, practicing those lines. So tired of not having—”
“A person?” she whispered a second after I’d dropped off. “So tired of not having a…true person?”
A true person. I pressed the heels of my palms hard against my eyes. Deep down, I knew Sage knew. About me. Somewhere along the way, she’d figured it out. It wasn’t a shocker, and it wasn’t the problem. My chest clenched. The problem was now I’d brought the whole thing up, up to the door; my closet had always been straight out of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, leading all the way back to Narnia. And I wanted it to stay that way.
Even if I was tired. Even if I was exhausted. Even if I wanted him.
When I looked at Sage again, her phone was pressed against her ear. “Are you still awake?” she was saying, and then I heard her mumble something about not needing help burying the body, but needing help carrying it.
My legs wobbled, and I squinted as Sage slung my lifeless arm over her shoulder. “Is that Nicky’s Patagonia?” I asked, suddenly noticing her fleece’s horrific tribal print.
She didn’t answer.
I woke up on the chesterfield with a dry throat and a throbbing headache. I was underneath the plaid comforter he must’ve dragged down from my sky-high bed, with my trash can on standby. One of my towels was spread out on the floor in case my aim was off, and there was also a tall glass of water on the trunk. I reached for it and then noticed a bottle of Advil and a Post-it Note.
You are a moron, it said in half print, half cursive.
Chapter 17
Sage
My eyes were swollen on Sunday morning. I’d slept restlessly, but couldn’t drag myself out of bed or check my phone until the afternoon. 1:22 p.m., the screen read. There were also some missed texts; I ignored them, instead burrowing under my covers again. I didn’t want to be alone, but couldn’t reach out to the girls, no matter how much I loved them. Since they didn’t know anything, they would want to know everything, and I didn’t want to explain. So I called the one person who did know everything. “Please come,” I croaked over the phone, like Charlie had last night. Not dark and demanding, but still cloudy and desperate. “I need you.”
Twenty minutes later, Luke let me snuggle into his shoulder. He smelled like peppermint and released this deep sigh of something. Not relief, but something—like he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Frustration, I determined when I noticed how tense he was. He’s frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, realizing this was the second time I’d summoned him in…what? Fifteen hours?
I shut my eyes and remembered Mr. Magnusson’s classroom, creaky floor announcing Luke’s arrival. He had his sweatshirt hood pulled up over his baseball hat, with his mouth in a straight line and an eyebrow barely raised. What’s the plan? the expression said, but he hadn’t uttered one word the entire time.
Now, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me. “You don’t need to be sorry, Sage,” he said, then whispered: “And you don’t have to tell me, but Charlie wasn’t the only Carmichael-related problem last night, was he?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He wasn’t.”
Then it all came spilling out, along with the tears I didn’t know I had left. About how Nick thought he was a consolation prize, that I was just passing time until Charlie was slapped in the face with his love for me. “None of it’s true,” I said. “None of it. Yes, I love Charlie, but not in that way. Never in that way, you know that. The truth is…”
He was quiet after I finished telling him the history between my parents, with my mom later warning me that long-term relationships had no place in high school. Well, what are you waiting for? I almost said. Say something!
But then I realized he didn’t know if I just wanted him to comfort me, or if I wanted him to offer his opinion.
“What do you think?” I eventually asked.
“I think you should try explaining yourself,” Luke answered. “It sounds like he did most of the talking, and you the listening.” He paused, then laughed a little. “I’m sorry, that might be terrible advice. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise. I’ve dated, but have never had what you and Nick have.”
What you and Nick have.
What did we have?
Love, I realized. Love, but a love I wasn’t sure I was ready for. A love that scared me right now.
I sobbed.
Luke hugged me closer. “Itai desu,” he whispered.
Japanese, I guessed.
“What does that mean?”
“It hurts,” he translated, and hugged me again before adding, “But things will get better. Things will be good again.”
I bit my lip hard so I didn’t let out another wail. Nick said that all the time, ever since we were kids. “Things will be good again, Morgan,” he’d say after talking through a bad test grade or a dumb argument with my mom. “Don’t worry. Things will be good again.”
* * *
I planned to lay low on Monday, riding Stinger everywhere so I didn’t have to talk to anyone—and by anyone, I meant Charlie. Part of me wanted to scream at him for his Saturday-night stupidity, while another part wanted to hug him and whisper that I was there for him no matter what. And a third part was nervous…really nervous that he’d put the puzzle pieces together about me and his twin. “Is that Nicky’s Patagonia?” he’d said just before we’d left Mr. Magnusson’s classroom. His eyebrows had furrowed as he touched the fuzzy sleeve. I’d swallowed hard and didn’t answer, my heart never beating so fast.
But Charlie had different ideas. He found me in town during consultation, since Pandora’s had better coffee than the Tuck Shop. “Hi.” I tried to play things cool. “How are you? I didn’t see you yesterday.”
“Because I was sleeping,” he replied. “I slept almost the whole day.”
And just like that, the worried best friend in me seized her chance, touching his arm. “Please don’t do it again,” I said. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Charlie was silent.
“I know you’re unhappy,” I whispered. “The things you said…”
“I was drunk. Obviously I wasn’t thinking.”
“Charlie, please. You can tell me. I don’t want this to get swept under the rug. I’m really worried about you.”
“Well, you don’t need to be,” he muttered, glancing around the café. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. You—”
Charlie cut me off with the look on his face. It sent the shivers down my spine, his head cocked and blue eyes wide, as if genuinely intrigued. “You want to talk about not okay?” he asked. “Fine. Let’s talk about not okay.” His voice pitched, sounding scarily like Nick’s on the sixth hole. Light and airy, sarcastic. I braced myself. “You and Nick, Sage,” he said. “That’s not okay.”
Eyes prickling, I pulled him into Pandora’s back hallway, toward the restrooms. “I’m sorry,” I told him quickly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Didn’t tell me?” Charlie shook his head. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter now, does it? What matters is that you’ve wrecked him. He’s a mess. I went by his room last night, and he told me about you two, but wouldn’t even let me inside. Locked the door and everything.”
Because he’s mad at you, I thought, heart twisting. He thinks I want you and not him.
“I knew this would happen,” he went on. “If you ever got together.” He raked a hand through his hair. “He’d fall fast and hard, and shatter the second you decided things had run their course.” He gave me a look. “I thought I told you on the Vineyard not to hurt him.”
My cheeks caught fire. “You are such a hypocrite, Charlie,” I hissed. “You shatter girls all the time. Like Val, the other night. You give them this fairy tale and then with snap of a finger, it’s over.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s over so quickly that it almost makes you wonder…”
The second the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. All of a sudden, the bags under Charlie’s eyes were more prominent and his shoulders slumped. He gritted his teeth. “This is different.”
“Oh yeah?” My voice caught. Yes, they were different. Of course they were different, but I wanted him to tell me, to finally admit why. “How?”
“Because it’s my brother,” he said, giving me a hard stare. “And he’s in love with you.”
Chapter 18
Charlie
During hockey season, we ate as a team every night, commandeering three of Leighton’s center tables so all eighteen of us could sit together. Captains sat at the head of the table, but Nick barely spoke tonight, instead shoveling Bexley’s infamous taco lasagna into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a month. I caught some sour cream dripping down onto his Patagonia.
The Patagonia. Last Saturday had gotten way out of hand, but not blackout out of hand. Because the next morning, I’d remembered Sage wearing Nick’s fleece…and that was the tip-off, the tip-off that had highlighted all the little tip-offs I’d missed over the term: Sage missing from movie night, Nick stopping by our Addison table all the time and then abruptly leaving. That’s who Sage was always texting, I realized. Texting Nick, so he’d split. Probably worried he was too obvious with his smiles.
Then homecoming, how strange Sage had acted that whole night. “Her? Really?” she’d grumbled upon seeing Emma Brisbane with Nick. It wasn’t just that she didn’t like Emma; it was because she w
as jealous of her.
Nice work, rook, I imagined Agent Luke Morrissey saying. Now the motive for the secrecy?
Easy, I would’ve said. You’re looking at him.
It hurt that neither of them had told me, but as soon as I felt that clenching in my chest, I knew why. The Sage factor, someone once called it.
Sage was my best friend, but I also used her to an extent. I wasn’t proud of it, but I did. She was my get-out-of-jail-free card—no one could suspect the truth if they believed I was in love with her. And how could they fault me for that? She was sunshine in human form, the most loyal and loving person I knew. She was, in so many ways, my soul mate. So I let people assume what they wanted to assume.
But what did she say to Nick? I wondered, as my brother rose from the table to get seconds. To swear him to secrecy? Perhaps protecting me wasn’t her only motive. “Just leave, Charlie,” Nick said through his door Sunday night, after I found his Patagonia abandoned on Mortimer’s porch. Sage had returned it. “It got too complicated.” He choked, like his heart was caught in his throat. “And was never that serious, anyway.”
Then I heard him move away from the door. I pressed my forehead against the other side and squeezed my eyes shut. Tell him, I thought. Tell him everything.
* * *
A few days later, Bexley battened down the hatches for final exams. I knew Sage and the flock had camped out in the library, in Jennie’s personal study room. It was gigantic, complete with a Harkness table for our student council meetings. There was even a gold-embossed nameplate on the door: J. H. CHU, PRESIDENT.
I stayed in my room. Sage and I hadn’t spoken since our fight, and it was easier that way—I didn’t have to see Luke. Because for the most part, I’d been able to avoid him. I ate with the hockey guys, and obviously he didn’t come over for Survivor anymore. The two tribes had merged, and I’d really wanted to ask him what he thought of Emily willing the legacy advantage to Hardy, but I didn’t.
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