Page 40 of Hush Money
“Me either,” she says. “But I’d say that if you’re really back, that’s probably good.”
I smile and nod.
“So tell me,” she says, “how did you end up back here with him? Why are you sticking around for the shitshow?”
I laugh. I don’t know this girl, but she’s been accepted into the tight trust circle of the Everett brothers, so she must be okay. And then I think about how to tell my favorite story of all time: the story of us.
EVIE
“Wanna go out to Coney Island?” I ask him as we walk through the halls. It’s the last day before our holiday break, and it is absolutely dragging. He doesn’t respond. “Keat?”
“Hmm?” he asks. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I, uh…” his voice trails off as we turn down the next hallway. “I’m a little…”
“Bruh,” I hear this guy Connor say as soon as he sees us. Well, as soon as he sees Keaton. No one sees me, despite how much I’m with Keaton. I think it’s because, around these types of people, most relationships and friendships are superficial. So they assume ours is too. Not worth getting to know me.
Keat sucks in a breath and looks at him.
“Is this true?” he asks, holding his phone out. I see Keaton reading a text message on Connor’s phone, but he doesn’t say anything. He just walks by.
“That’s fucked up, Everett,” Connor calls down the hallway. “It’s fucked up.”
Keaton picks up the pace, and I pick mine up to follow him. My stomach is churning. We turn toward the cafeteria, and Macy walks up to us.
“Keaton, was it really that many people?” she asks. He looks at her, but again, he doesn’t answer. He just politely pushes past with me in tow. When we walk into the cafeteria, it feels like a scene from a teen movie. The entire room literally gets quieter. People from every table turn to look at us. Some people are whispering; some are just sitting and staring. Some are glaring, like he just kicked a puppy in front of them.
I don’t know what’s going on, but my body is screaming at me to do something. I grab his arm and tug him back out of the cafeteria, down the long hall, in the direction of the side door where his security team usually picks us up.
We break out of the doors and through the courtyard, and all the while, I’m clutching onto his hand.
Russ sees us and immediately opens the back door for us to get in. He climbs in the driver’s seat and looks at us in the rearview mirror.
“Everything okay, Keaton?” he asks. Keaton doesn’t answer. He just sits and breathes. Or maybe not. I think he’s hyperventilating.
I turn toward him, throwing my backpack off my shoulders and putting my hands on his.
“Look at me, Keat,” I say. He finally does. I mimic long, slow breaths for him, and after a few more sporadic ones, he follows suit. He clutches onto my hands, and I let him.
“Talk to me, Evie,” Russ says. “Where am I going? What’s going on?”
I look back at Keaton.
“Do you want to go home?” I ask, knowing that’s a loaded question. He shakes his head.
“Fuck no.”
I think.
“Coney Island?” I ask him.
He shakes his head again.
“No,” he says. “No people. I can’t… I don’t know where?—”
“Can you take us to my Nan’s, Russ?” I ask. Russ looks at Keaton in the rearview. After a few moments, Keaton nods.
In about twenty minutes, we’re pulling up to my Nan’s old apartment building. I get out first, looking around for any sign of anyone who might recognize Keaton. But in this neighborhood, that’s less likely. He gets out behind me, and I wrap an arm around him as we walk inside. He’s never been inside the building, but he doesn’t seem to be taking much in right now. I lead him up the five flights of stairs to her door.
I use my key to open it, and when we walk in, she looks up from the newspaper she’s reading in her recliner.
