If We Were Us

by K. L. Walther

  “Well, it was a good fight, gents,” he offered Cody his hand to shake. “But it seems a choice has been made.”

  Matt spoke through a mouthful of eggs. “What’re you talking about?”

  Paddy nodded toward one of Addison’s window tables: the flock’s table, where Nick sat in my seat. He was laughing and eating while Sage held one of his hands, hugging it to her chest. She looked extra-­awake today. And yeah, I was happy for them, but it was hard to show it. I felt Paddy clap me on the shoulder. “You and Nick gonna be okay, Charlie?”

  I didn’t respond, because Luke was there now. He dropped down next to Nina with only a mug of coffee. Look at me, I willed him. God, please look at me.

  He didn’t, but I kept looking at him until I saw Nina reach out and touch his cheek. What happened? I knew she was asking, and my heart lurched—­back to Saturday night, in the woods. It was like someone else had taken over my body. “Sorry,” I’d blurted after shoving him off the trail, clumsily switching on my phone flashlight while I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Paddy and Val hadn’t heard anything. “It was an accident.”

  Luke had silently picked himself up off the ground. “I’m bleeding,” he said, voice devoid of anything. It made the hair on my neck stand up.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, moving close to see how badly the branch had swiped him. “It was an accident.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” He backed away from me. “No, it fucking wasn’t.”

  “You’re right,” I whispered an excruciatingly long second later, because Luke and I didn’t lie to each other. “I’m really sorry.”

  And it had been all downhill from there.

  * * *

  For the next week, and the one after that, I didn’t hang out with anyone after sports and dinner. I shut myself in my room and tried to dare myself to do it—­call Mom and Dad and tell them. Some nights I practiced first, after pacing for an hour. “I have something to tell you guys,” I said to a family photo on my wall. “You’ve probably noticed I’ve been acting weird, and that’s because I’m…”

  But I could never actually say it—­my ears started ringing before the buzzword, like they always did. “Now that’s Charlie, right?” I’d overheard Party Guest #1 ask Party Guest #2 at this year’s Hardcastle Christmas party, while I waited for a drink at the living room bar. They were a few yards away, sipping glasses of wine.

  “Yes.” The first woman nodded. “He is personality-­plus and apparently always has a girlfriend, but for some reason, Whitney suspects he’s gay.”

  “Oh,” the second woman said as I leaned against the bar, the ringing noise overwhelming. “Well, I wonder how Jay and Allison feel about that…”

  That was what scared me shitless—­I had no idea how they felt, or would feel. Because I couldn’t remember them doing anything but laughing off Aunt Whit’s probing questions, and we weren’t friends with anyone like me. Sage’s uncle, but not really. We’d never met. I knew they weren’t against it, but I figured it was different when it was their own son. Would I still have to call Luke my friend? I wondered. Even if they knew?

  It was a total shot in the dark.

  * * *

  “So does the condo sound good to you?” Dad asked. It was around 10:00 p.m., and he’d picked up before I bailed on the call. First, we’d talked about his Valentine’s plans with Mom, and then about Granddad needing a hip replacement.

  “What?” I jumped a little, Post-­it Notes scattering. I usually hid them in my desk, but tonight I’d spread them out on my bed—­all in Luke’s handwriting, from whenever he’d been in my room. The one I was holding said: You are my entire heart.

  I loved how sappy Luke got on paper.

  “Turks and Caicos,” Dad said. “Theo’s invited us down for your spring break.”

  “Oh, cool.” I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “Yup, we’re thinking deep-­sea fishing.”

  “Awesome.” My voice caught.

  Because last month Luke had asked me to come to Grosse Pointe for break. “Come home with me,” he’d said after we opened a chocolate chip cookie-­filled care package from his mom. “I want you to meet my family.”

  But obviously, it wasn’t an option now. I collapsed back against my pillow—­I missed him so much, it was crippling. We hadn’t talked in two weeks. Every night I fell asleep by holding my own hand, pretending it was his.

  “Oh, listen,” Dad said, “I’ve gotta run. Mom wants to watch Top Chef. Anything you need me to tell her?”

  My chest clenched. Yeah, there is, Dad. I can’t go fishing because I want to meet my boyfriend’s family. And you didn’t hear wrong: boy-­friend. Because I’m—­

  “No, nothing,” I said before the ringing could start.

  * * *

  My body was in knots when I woke up the morning of Valentine’s Day. 5:15 a.m., my phone read. Why can’t you do it? I tossed and turned. Why can’t you just fucking do it?

  So maybe because I knew he was still asleep, or maybe because I was aching for him, I texted Luke: I’m not as strong as you.

  Ten seconds after I hit send, my phone buzzed:

  Yes, you are.

  Chapter 36

  Sage

  “So how’d it go?” I asked Nick while we danced. It was officially Valentine’s Day, and Mortimer had reserved the music hall for their date party. In truth, the streamers and balloons weren’t the most elegant (the guys had decorated the place themselves), but they looked chaotically beautiful with the lights dimmed, and you could always count on Ed Sheeran to set the mood. Anyway, I didn’t really care…I was dancing with my boyfriend. He looks so adorable, I thought, gently running a hand through Nick’s flaming hair as he focused super hard on not stepping on my feet. He’s handsome in the daytime and adorable at night.

  I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Nick pretended to groan. “Do we have to talk about Charlie?”

  I stretched up to kiss him. “Yes.”

  He nodded, because he knew we did. This afternoon, he’d dragged his heartbroken twin out of Daggett for dinner at Humpty Dumplings. For the past couple of weeks, Charlie had been acting like we’d banished him from the kingdom, now eating with the hockey guys and locking himself in his room at night. “What happened?” the girls had asked, but when Luke and I stayed quiet, they’d dropped it. The one time I’d seen Charlie today was this morning, when he’d been heading into Knowles for French. He was wearing his headphones, which said it all. Charlie almost never shut Bexley out.

  We will hold that umbrella for you, I kept thinking. You won’t brave the storm alone.

  Nick sighed heavily. “Not the best. He didn’t eat anything until I basically forced him, and he barely spoke. Pretty much catatonic. And then we got that email for the…”

  “The superlative nominations,” I finished for him. Today the Annual editors had emailed the senior class a list of fifty yearbook superlatives, with five nominees for each one.

  “Right,” Nick said. “So that didn’t exactly help the cause.”

  “Best Bromance,” I whispered, hardly feeling him stomp on my foot. CHARLIE CARMICHAEL & LUKE MORRISSEY were the first two names in the category.

  “He needs to go home,” Nick said after apologizing and hugging me closer, my back humming with his hand resting on it. “I told him I would buy the train ticket…”

  “And?” I said when he trailed off.

  But Nick didn’t answer, his eyes now wide. I twisted around to see Charlie stalking across the dance floor. “Holy crap,” I breathed.

  He stuck out like a sore thumb thanks to tonight’s semiformal attire: red-­gold hair extremely sleep-­rumpled, L.L.Bean moccasins on his feet, and still wearing the Adidas sweatshirt that he’d refused to give back to Luke. I tried to catch his eye, but the only person he was looking at was his twin, determined as ever.r />
  “3:08 tomorrow afternoon,” he said when he came up to us.

  “Okay,” Nick said back. “I’ll book it.”

  Charlie nodded and then left.

  * * *

  Nick walked me home after the party. “Tell me it’s going to be okay,” he’d said when we reached Simmons’ back door. “Tell me he’ll be okay.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “And he’s going to be more than okay.”

  He nodded a few times. Instead of an exasperated mom, he was now a full-­on helicopter parent. Suddenly I didn’t think there was anyone in the world who loved their brother as much as Nick loved Charlie. “You’re right, he will.” He sighed. “But do you think—­”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You cannot go with him.”

  Nick laughed and put his hands on my waist. “I had fun tonight,” he said. “Did you?”

  “Yes,” I told him. “I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, spinning me around once.

  I grinned. “I love you, Nicholas Carmichael.”

  Which made Nick grin back, dimple and all. “I love you too, Sage Morgan,” he murmured and leaned close, so close his lips brushed mine. “And now I’m gonna kiss you good night.”

  Chapter 37

  Charlie

  Nick tried to give me a pep talk before I left. “It’s going to be fine,” he told me, then amended, “No, it’s going to be great. You’re going to do it, and then you’re going to come back here and fix it all with him, and then things will be good again.”

  I gripped my backpack straps and just looked at him. Come with me.

  He shook his head. I can’t.

  “Yeah, I know.” I shut my eyes and nodded.

  “But I’ve got you,” Nick said, trapping me in a hug before pretty much pushing me onto the train. “I’ve always got you.”

  * * *

  I wondered if Mom and Dad knew something was up. “What do you mean you’re coming home?” they’d said when I called them. “Aren’t you studying for midterms?”

  It had taken a lot to keep my voice steady. “Yes,” I told them. “But it’s no big deal, and I just”—­I hunted for the best words—­“want to come home for a night.”

  I looked at the Annual email again on the ride. Everyone loved the yearbook’s superlatives and I knew it was time when I saw the nominees. Because amid all the stupidity of MOST LIKELY TO WIN IN A STREET FIGHT (Val Palacios, was my vote) and FIRST TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE (Jack Healy, hands down), there they were: Luke’s and my names, next to BEST BROMANCE, and I hated that. The ultimate typo, I thought. We weren’t just a bromance, and everyone needed to know it. I wanted them to know it. The B needed to be dropped. But that’s later, I reminded myself before my chest tightened. Mom and Dad are first. Don’t think about Bexley now.

  Just like back in October, Mom was waiting at the end of the platform when my train pulled in. It was almost dinnertime. “Hi, honey.” She wrapped me in a hug. “How are you?”

  “Hungry,” I said.

  She touched my cheek. “Me too. Should we go to the club for dinner? Your dad and I still haven’t used up this month’s minimum.”

  But instead of growling, my stomach started to churn. Everyone at Darien Country Club knew my family. We could never get through a dinner without people stopping by our table. “Actually”—­I swallowed the lump in my throat—­“can we eat at home?”

  “Sure.” Mom nodded. We left the station in pursuit of the parking lot. The Jeep beeped in response to Mom’s keys. I threw my stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat, leaning my head against the window as she turned over the ignition. I’d just shut my eyes when I heard her add, “Dad’s excited to see you.”

  I looked at her. “What?”

  She smiled. “He’s happy you called, that you’re here for the night.” She laughed. “He’s really missed you lately. We both have.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” I said, and we were quiet for the rest of the drive. When we got home, Dad thumped me hard on the back before I went upstairs to unpack my stuff. Then I lay on my bed while my parents figured out food, trying to collect my thoughts.

  * * *

  Mom ended up reheating leftover chili, but the clenching inside me made it hard to eat as Dad asked, “Would you like to go first?”

  I shook my head. We did this every night when Nick and I weren’t at school, went around the table and said something we wanted to “get off our chest.” Dad’s go-­to was always complaining about the fact that Nana called him about ten times a week for TV tech support. “I love her,” he’d say, “but sometimes it’s so exasperating. She can never understand that all she needs to do is press source!”

  Now, Mom went ahead and vented about her latest listing. “It’s been the biggest nightmare,” she said. “The deal is contingent upon the buyers selling their house, and we just found water in the crawl space…” She trailed off and her eyebrows furrowed. “Charlie, are you all right?”

  I didn’t respond. I could hear the blood pumping through my ears and feel the sweat beading on my forehead. And it wasn’t because the chili was too spicy.

  “Charlie—­”

  “I’m gay,” I blurted.

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “I’m gay,” I repeated, lungs threatening to give out if I didn’t exhale. “That’s what I’m getting off my chest.”

  Mom blinked—­once, twice, three times before she nodded slowly. She opened her mouth to say something, but I wasn’t done yet, seeing Dad’s blank expression. Just staring at me.

  “It’s not a joke,” I told him.

  “No,” he murmured, face paling. “I didn’t think it was.” He cleared his throat and pushed back his chair. “Excuse me a minute.”

  “Jay,” Mom said as he walked out of the kitchen, not looking back. My eyes were stinging, ears ringing. “Jay…”

  Neither of us said anything for a few seconds, but then she took one of my hands and started massaging my palm. That’s when the stinging shifted to a full-­on spill of hot tears.

  “Did you know?” I asked softly.

  Mom shook her head. “No, but it answers a lot of questions.” She squeezed my hand. “We’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been our Charlie for the past five months…perpetually preoccupied, and so thin at Thanksgiving…” She wrapped an arm around me, and I put my head on her shoulder.

  “I’m not the person everyone thinks I am,” I whispered.

  She hugged me tighter. “Yes, you are. This is only one part of you, and it won’t change how we feel about you. We love you. We’ll always love you.”

  I shuddered. “You have no idea what I’m like at school.”

  I waited for her to ask me, but she didn’t. She just started to comb her fingers through my hair. “Does Nicky know?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “and Sage.”

  “Okay.” She let out a deep breath. “Okay.”

  We sat there in silence again. Mom kept finger-­brushing my hair like when I was little, but eventually she murmured, “Dad is just surprised.”

  More tears spilled. “Never would’ve guessed,” I mumbled, unable to stop shaking. He’d left—­left. He didn’t even let me explain or try to understand.

  “Give him some time.” She kissed my forehead. “He’s surprised now, but I think he’ll soon realize he’s relieved. Believe it or not, it really hurt his feelings that you never invited any girls to dinner or back here for a weekend. He thinks you’re embarrassed of us.”

  I shrugged. “None of them were him.”

  Mom tilted her head. “There’s a him?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s not very happy with me right now, but yeah. There is.”

  “Does he have a name?”

&nbs
p; “Luke.”

  “Luke? Luke Morrissey? The Hoppers’ neighbor?”

  I nodded.

  “We met him,” Mom said. “He was with Sage at the second Ames game. Only for a few minutes, but your dad complimented his handshake, and I liked how well-­spoken he was, and that he didn’t quite catch all his bedhead.” She sort of smiled. “He’s adorable.”

  “Yeah, he is.” I sort of smiled back. “But also a major smart-­ass.” My heart flickered, then flamed. I took a deep breath. “I love him.”

  She smiled more and wiped her eyes. “Dad’s probably in the study.”

  * * *

  Dad was really quiet after I got up the guts to open the study door. There was no point in knocking, since the doors had glass panes. He’d seen me outside. My body stiffened as I joined him by the fireplace, sitting in the one of the leather club chairs. Neither of us spoke. “Are you sure?” was what he eventually settled on.

  “Yes,” I said, almost adding, You would know if you’d stayed at the table.

  He nodded, then rose from his seat and crossed the room to the bar cart. I watched him grab a bottle of scotch and two tumblers before locating a pair of cigars. The ones from Uncle Theo that he’d been saving for a special occasion. “Mom won’t let us smoke these in the house,” he said, “so we’ll go out on the deck later.” He poured us each a couple of fingers of whiskey, handed me my glass, and then held up his own. “To you,” he said. “To you, my son. You are a stronger man than I will ever be.”

  We clinked glasses.

  “I love you, Charlie,” he told me. “I love you very much.”

  * * *

  My train on Sunday was obnoxiously early, but I needed to get back to Bexley. Mom and Dad hugged me long and hard before Mom handed me an unsealed envelope. “I found this in one of the albums last night.”

  I waited until I’d found a seat before checking out the mystery photo. But everything turned to white noise when I did…because in Mom’s perfect handwriting, the caption on the back read: Charlie (10) and a (sleepy!) new friend at Cousin Banks’s christening party!