Page 52 of Perfectly Us
My stomach dips, and I snap my head toward Shiloh. “Huh?”
“Your brother,” he says. “You mentioned him once.”
“I did?”
“When we went to seeInto the Ruins,” he says with a nod. “You said something about going to your mom’s yoga studio because your brother was at football practice.”
I didn’t even realize I did that. It’s not often I’m struck speechless, but I struggle with how to respond. Ruben said bringing up Clay’s death in casual conversation would be hard. But Shiloh has opened the door. Now’s the perfect time to tell him.
Still, I hesitate.
Once Shiloh knows the truth, will he look at me differently? I’ve made it my mission to be happy, to smile and be kind to everyone I meet. Because you never know what a person’s going through. Your smile could be what turns their day around. I don’t want to be seen as someone to feel sorry for.
But Shiloh sees my mark. Just like I see his. It’s the thing that connects us on a deeper level.
“He died,” I finally say, staring at my lap. The center of my chest tightens. “Today’s actually the third anniversary of his death. That’s why we went swimming. Ruben makes sure I’m surrounded by friends and people who love me when this day rolls around. I was going to tell you sooner… but I couldn’t really find the words.”
Shiloh’s quiet as he reaches for my hand. Our fingers slide together.
I brace myself for the questions. Thehowsandwhysthat follow when someone learns about my brother. How did he die. Why did he do it. I’m so sick of those questions.
“Ruben’s a good friend,” Shiloh says instead.
“He is.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and I quickly wipe at it.
“What’s your brother’s name?”
I like how he didn’t saywas. Usually when someone dies, they’re referred to in the past tense, as if their whole lives mean nothing upon their death. Dead or not, you still have a name.
“Clay.” Words come spilling out then, like a dam breaks, releasing the hundred tons of suppressed thoughts and emotions. Because I don’t talk about Clay much, not even with Ruben. I definitely don’t talk about him with my parents. “He played football. Was damn good at it too. Dad wanted him to be the quarterback, but he was a wide receiver. Even though he was crazy talented, Clay didn’t want to do that forever. He even tried quitting the team a few times. That caused him and Dad to fight a lot.”
“I’m not you, Dad!” Clay yells from the hall. “We don’t want the same thing!”
I’m in my room scrolling through my phone when I should be studying for a big math test coming up instead. It’s not the first time they’ve fought.
“Don’t be stupid,” Dad says. “You’re good enough to get a full ride to any college you want. I’ve talked to your coaches. Scouts are lookin’ at you. Interested. You’d throw all that away?”
I put in my earbuds and try to block out the noise.
Shiloh gently squeezes my hand, as if he knows my mind is elsewhere. It brings me back to myself. I trace the curve of his knuckle.
“So yeah. Clay was good at football,” I continue. “But he was a total nerd at heart. He loved science, math, and figuring out how things work, like engineering and stuff. When he said he wanted to quit football to join the Physics Club, I thought Dad was gonna have a stroke. He told Clay no son of his would ever throw away apromising careerin football to be adamn dork.”
Shiloh frowns but sits quietly as I keep rambling.
“Clay’s grades started suffering, and he got kicked off the football team because of it. I think he did it on purpose. I don’t know. But it caused another huge blowup between them.” Another tear slips from the corner of my eye, unstoppable, just like the ache in my chest. “Why didn’t I see the signs? I saw that Clay was struggling. I saw how angry he was, how he wasn’t himself. But I didn’t do anything. I was too focused on my own shit.” I look at Shiloh, and he’s kind of blurry because more tears pool in my eyes. “Why didn’t I help him, Shi? Why didn’t I make sure he knew he was loved? That things would get better?”
Something seems to click in Shiloh’s mind then. His blue eyes soften, and he tugs me to his chest. I can’t keep the tears back as he holds me. He pets my hair and lets me cry against him.
Shiloh’s so warm. Some people wouldn’t think that when first meeting him because he can seem distant and impassive. But it’s like there’s a light inside him, one he only shows to certain people.
“Sorry,” I say, wiping at my eyes. “Didn’t mean to cry all over you.”
I feel lighter now though, the weight of my grief a lot easier to hold.
“You can cry on me anytime you need to.” Shiloh brushes my bangs aside. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
“Yeah.” I drag in a shaky breath, then release it, trying to calm myself down. “But I think of you as more than a friend. I mean, I don’t ever make out with Ruben like I did with you in the lake today.”
