Page 57 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

I was always covering for him. When we were kids it was lying to Mom, telling her we’d been at the park when he’d actually made me hop a fence with him to jump on the Shaw’s trampoline. Or patching up my own scrapes and bruises after falling off the home-made skateboard ramp at his friend Randy’s house so she wouldn’t see them. It was my job to make sure she didn’t find out he’d been out doing something that could have killed him. He dragged me along with him as his cover and his accomplice. And now, I was going to have to apologize to Mom and Willow for one last adventure gone wrong.

I ripped my backpack off the hook and dug out the tin, setting it on the bed.

“God damn it, Alex.” The echo of my anger off of the metal walls egged me on. It was like someone had twisted a pressure release valve in my chest. I couldn’t stop. “I’m tired of carrying your load, man.”

I took a step back and bumped into the sink, knocking Brit’s hair products into the bowl. “At work, at home. All of this ‘live like you’re dying’ bullshit when we were kids. You could live like that because you always were dying! And we’re not kids anymore. I have enough pressure because of you—the business, Mom and Dad. You’re dead and you’re still—”

The door creaked open and I spun around to see Brit standing there, wide-eyed.

I froze.

“Who are you talking to, Nicky?”

I shook my head, my jaw clenched shut. She’d just caught me talking to a metal box and now I couldn’t make my words come out to defend myself. But what was I going to say?I was yelling at my dead brother, Brit. No need to be alarmed.

“It’s nothing.” I shoved the tin back in the bag and stepped toward her, so glad she was back. I just needed her in my space again, to pretend I had everything under control.

But when I reached for her, she didn’t come to me. “It didn’t seem like nothing,” she said.

I forced a casual smile. “Don’t worry about it, Brit.”

Her face fell into a frown. “Of course I’m going to worry about it,” she said. “If you start hiding from me again, I’m going to worry and I’m going to wonder. I came back here because I missed you, Nicky, but you’re gone again.” She tapped her temple. “In your head.”

I ground my teeth, irritated. Maybe because I’d heard this all before—You’re so difficult, Nick. I have no idea what’s going on in your head—or maybe because it wasn’t true this time. “I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone.”

“And yet . . .” She pointed to the letter in my hand. I’d forgotten I was still clutching it.

“It’s complicated,” I said, stealing her line from the plane.

She shrugged. “We’ve got all night.”

“Why are you pushing this?” I turned to put the letter away but she caught my wrist.

“Because I’m tired of having no idea what version of you I’m going to get. The one who lets me in or keeps me out. My friend or a stranger who I happen to be stuck on a train with.”

I swallowed, silent despite how much it hurt that she thought that. I just wanted to keep her out of this one part. Just this one. And not because I didn’t want to lay a little bit of it down. God it had felt good to do that in the park, to speak those decades-long grudges out loud, but I was ashamed that I needed to. I hated this feeling.

“Nick. Please just talk to me.”

I gave her a pleading look to drop it, but I knew she wouldn’t. It was the best and worst thing about us, the way I couldn’t say no to her. “I’m failing, okay? Are you happy?”

The words burst out more angry than I’d meant them but wasn’t that what everyone wanted from me?Say it,Nick. Speak, Nick. And I did that one time with Alex, I said exactly what I was feeling, and I’d regret it forever. Maybe I’d regret this conversation too because even though she was staring at me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, I couldn’t stop. It was all crashing down on me, the incredible helplessness of it all. I couldn’t stand having my hands tied. Couldn’t stand sitting still when there was so much I had to do. Even if sitting still with Brit had been the best time I could remember.

And it was, and I wanted to keep doing it, but I couldn’t have both.

“I have real responsibilities, Brit. People counting on me. Everything’s not going to magically be okay because you gave me a back massage in the park and told me to take deep breaths. This is just an extension of your vacation,” I reminded her. “Well, it’s not for me. Do you know how badly I wish I could just have fun with you?”

The empathy on her face slid into something harder. “I don’t know, Nick. Because you’re being very confusing. One minute youarehere laughing with me, having fun,touchingme, and the next you’re just . . . gone. I have no idea what you’re thinking about, what you want!”

What I wasthinkingabout? I was thinking about her! Her smile, her hair, her pretty legs always stretched out in front of me. The purple polish on her toes. Her fucking adorable little snort-laugh. That freckle just east of her belly button. Hell, I was thinking about her in my sleep before this happened.

I was thinking about her when I should have been thinking about Alex.

That was the crux of it. The sharpest part of my guilt. I unclenched my fist and held up Alex’s list.

“Here,” I said, unfolding it. “This is why I’m here, hundreds of miles away from home, stuck on a train in the middle of nowhere.” I picked up the tin. “These are Alex’s ashes. He sent me on some goddamn scavenger hunt from the grave, a list of places I was supposed to leave him. After the funeral, my sister-in-law gave me this.” I held the letter up to her face. “I’ve completed them all, everything he wanted me to do—except one.”

I read Alex’s blue chicken scratch out loud to her, my voice shaking.

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