Page 80 of Dissent

That frown deepened, his eyes darkening as he tipped his chin to his test. “That’s not what I meant.” He looked back up, face strained. “It wasn’t your fault Chelsea was caught.”

“What did you mean then?”

Glistening jewels of citrine—that’s what his eyes reminded me of. And they were a storm—a hurricane of conflicting emotions so deep and endless—I swore I would lose myself if I stared too long.

“Not that,” he finally said. He sighed, looking away as though he was searching for answers somewhere, before he decided on something. He didn’t look at me when he began talking, but his posture slumped slightly, like he was finally giving into something. “Look, I’ve been an ass to you the whole time you’ve been here. And it’s not fair to you, so I’m sorry about that.” He gave a sardonic snicker. “I was never the charismatic one, you know? Or the diplomatic one, for that matter. I was never as good as he was.”

I froze. I didn’t need him to clarify. I knew exactly who he was talking about, and I remained silent, afraid to move an inch. For the second time in our entire collection of interactions together, we were having a legit conversation. And for the second time, Wes was opening up to me, and I didn’t want to ruin it this time.

“My father loved him. We were identical, but our personalities were completely different. He was always the golden kid—the one that had the good grades and excelled at everything he did. And I…I guess I was just the backup.”

He shook his head, never looking at me while he laid back on the bed. “All my dad ever talked about was how my brother was destined to do great things. He was theapple of his eye.” The words dripped with sarcasm. “And when he died, it was hard. I lost him—and I loved my brother—but when he died, there was a part of me that thought things would change. That people would stop comparing us all the time, measuring me against him.”

He went silent for a moment, lost in thought, before finally continuing, “I was wrong, though.” He shook his head, blowing out a breath before looking at me again. “I needed something to take my anger out on, I guess. And it’s not fair that I took it out on you.”

Ho-ly hell.

Now, if this wasn’t a miracle, I didn’t know what was. Because it turned out, Wes was like anactualhuman inside all that tight muscle and scowling face. He was not only a human withactualfeelings, but he came complete with family drama and insecurities and the whole nine yards! And, if all that wasn’t enough, it turned out that I understood him.

I knew what it was like to have an older sibling whom everyone loved and adored. An older sibling whom you were measured up against and somehow always fell short. An older sibling that you loved with all your heart but couldn’t help but feel jealous of. I got it. I knew exactly how he felt. And suddenly, Wes made so much more sense to me. Because, in so many ways, Wes was me.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

I could kick myself. Here was this guy, with all his tough guy machismo, showing me he was really just a broken boy. And I couldn’t even figure out the best way to respond. So, I settled for the truth.

“I get it.” I watched him closely. Though his face was turned toward the ground, his eyes lifted, meeting mine, but he stayed silent. So I went a step further. “It was the same thing for me at home. My brother is the golden kid in my house too, and I never felt like anything I did could compare to him.” I looked down at my fingers as I played with my cuticles. “My stepmom loves Jacob. He’s everything she and Raúl could want. But I”—my voice caught—“I’m the disappointment. No matter how hard I try, nothing I do satisfies them, and I always end up just making everyone upset at me.” I blinked, feeling the sting in the back of my throat. I refused to cry here. Not today, not now.

“I’m sorry.” His words caught me by surprise yet again, and I looked up to see his expression soften once more on his face. And at that moment, he looked…compassionate. He cleared his throat quietly, and the look was gone, replaced by a neutral, unreadable expression. “It seems you and I have a lot more in common than anyone thought.”

I smiled, tilting my head slightly. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

He stared at me then, different emotions flickering across his eyes before he blinked and they all disappeared. “Mara, I—”

“Miss de la Puente, I told you to stay put.” Doc’s voice boomed into the space. A quick glance around the curtain showed me he was marching his way through the tent, and he wasnotin a good mood.

I turned back to Wes, offering him a quick smile and waved. “I have to go. I hope you feel better.”

He gave me one nod, watching me closely as I turned to leave before saying my name once more.

I paused mid-step, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

With parted lips, he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and then spoke softly, “Happy birthday.”

Lightness swept through me, bringing a smile to my lips. I nodded, not knowing what else to do, and then left to face an angry Doc. But as the curtain fell back in place, and I was forced to sit on the exam table, Doc poking and twisting my ankle as he rattled on and on about how nobody follows the rules anymore, my mind kept replaying my interaction with Wes over and over again. And one thing kept giving me pause—how did Wes know it was my birthday?

40: Surprise

Docclearedmyankle.I was still supposed to engage in light duty for another week and keep it wrapped, but he thought it was healing well. I had a hard time focusing on any of it, though. My mind just wanted to replay my interaction with Wes over and over again. I still couldn’t get over how civil he could be, or that he had apologized for being such an ass this whole time. The biggest piece, however, was the knowledge that Wes was just like me—the black sheep. The kid that was the giant disappointment. And I felt for him. My heart actually ached knowing that he struggled with some of the same emotional trauma I had been dealing with for the past eighteen years. In so many ways, Wes and I were kindred spirits, andthatlittle piece of information had me feeling all kinds of ways. But I couldn’t sort through all of that right now.

No sooner was I out of the infirmary, Edith was on me, chattering like an excited squirrel and shoving me through camp. It was time for my “surprise,” and she pushed me along, giggling the whole way. I kept trying to fish information out of her, but her only response was “You’ll see” or “Keep walking, sister!” It wasn’t long before we made it to the edge of camp and came up to a trailhead that went up the side of the mountain. And before I could ask her again where she was taking me, she was shoving me onto the trail. We hiked up, and the thinning oxygen made me breathe harder and feel lightheaded. But it wasn’t long before I could see that we were about to reach the crest.

Edith stopped hiking. “Keep going until you get to the top.”

“You’re not coming? You’ve been pushing me this whole way just to stop several yards from the top? Seriously?”

If even possible, her already ridiculously huge grin got even bigger. “Yup! Have a good time.” Then she turned on her heels and started hiking down.

“Edith? Where are you going? What the heck am I supposed to do up here? Edith!”

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