Secret

CHAPTER 23

Three feet of wooden table stretched between them, but it might as well have been three miles. This moment between words and reaction seemed to stretch into infinity.

Nick had leapt off that cliff, and now he was waiting to see what he’d hit at the bottom.

Michael eased back into the booth and leaned his forearms on the table. He edged Nick’s half-empty soda glass toward him. “Here. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Nick couldn’t move. He worried he would pass out if Michael didn’t say something more substantial than that.

The waitress came to the table again, obviously noting that they hadn’t left. She fidgeted, clearly unsettled by the tension.

Or maybe she was cold. Nick tried to get a handle on the temperature in the room.

She picked up the folder with the signed receipt. “Did you boys need anything else?”

“Coffee,” said Michael. “Please.”

She disappeared, leaving them in silence.

Michael cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to say this, Nick . . .”

It was like his older brother had picked up a spear and begun to shove it through Nick’s back. He felt the pain that acutely.

But then Michael winced and looked at him. “Would it be weird if I said that’s not surprising?”

What?

What?

Nick came out of his seat to reach across the table and punch Michael in the shoulder as hard as he could. “You dick. I thought you were about to throw me out of the house.”

Now Michael looked like Nick had checked his brain at the door. “Why on earth would I throw you out of the house?”

“I don’t know! I had no idea how you’d react!”

“You want me to punch you? Cause a scene? We could totally put on a show.”

However Nick had imagined this conversation going, this . . . this wasn’t it.

Some of the tension slipped from his shoulders. Nick took a long breath and blew it out through his teeth.

“How long have you been carrying that around?” said Michael.

“I don’t know.” Now Nick felt dizzy for an entirely different reason. He gave a choked laugh. “I don’t—a long time.” Then he stopped reeling and looked at his brother. “Why not surprising?”

The waitress chose that exact moment to bring their coffee. Nick was glad for the distraction, though. It gave him something else to look at, something new to do with his hands.

When she was gone, Michael said, “It’s difficult to explain. Nothing I would have put my finger on, you know?” He paused, then stirred his coffee. Pointless, since he drank it black—but maybe he needed a minor distraction, too.

“Little things,” he said. “Meaningless things. You’d go out with girls, but you never really talked about them. You’re not aggressive. You’re not . . . Jesus, Nick, I don’t know. I’ve never thought, gee, Nick might be gay, but when you said it, it was like the last piece of a puzzle, if that makes any sense.”

“It makes sense,” Nick said. He couldn’t quite believe that Michael was sitting here dropping a phrase like Nick might be gay without batting an eye.

“Am I the last to know, as usual?” Michael said.

“No. The first. Sort of.”

“The first! I should be celebrating.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Sort of?”

“Hunter knows.”

“How’d he take it?”

Nick shrugged and wondered if there was a safe answer to that question. Well, you know. Last night, he caught me in bed . . . “Hunter was okay.”

“Yeah, I can’t see him having a problem.” Michael paused. “Not Gabriel?”

Nick stared into his mug and shook his head.

“So that’s why you two are fighting.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Nick gritted his teeth and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Are you afraid of how he’ll take it?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Michael didn’t say anything for the longest time. After a while, he drained his mug of coffee, then set it back in the saucer.

“I remember,” Michael said, “when you were babies, Gabriel used to scream his fool head off. All the time. He wouldn’t fall asleep at night unless Mom put you in his crib.” He smiled. “It got so that any time he’d fuss, I’d just pick you up and put you next to him.” His smile turned a little sad. “I still remember the one time Mom caught me doing it. She was fit to be tied. Michael! Do not pick up the babies!”

Nick held still. It was rare that Michael would talk about Mom and Dad.

He kept talking. “But even when you grew older and got your own beds, we’d always find you in there with him in the morning. Curled up on top of his covers, just sleeping next to him. Mom used to say that you always knew when your brother needed you.” He paused. “I used to find you like that after they died.”

Emotion balled up a fist and struck Nick square in the chest. He tried to breathe around it. He remembered that. He remembered it.

“She was wrong,” he said, his voice husky. “That was when I needed him.”

“I don’t think so, Nick,” Michael said quietly. “If that were true, he’d know your secret.”

Nick rolled that around in his head for a moment.

Michael kept going. “And look, I can’t pretend to understand this twin thing you two have. But I know Gabriel knows you. And right now, he knows you’re keeping something from him. It’s probably tearing him up.”

Nick wanted to scoff, but he couldn’t. He felt it every time he was in the house.

Too bad he was such a creepy freak, or he’d do something about it.

“Do you think maybe you resent him for not figuring it out on his own?” Michael said. “Or for not pushing you to tell him?”

Nick snapped his eyes up. “No.”

But he’d answered without thinking about it. Now the thought was lodged in his brain and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He could picture Gabriel right now. Sitting with Layne, working through math problems, trying to get his grades up so he could take the firefighter course in the spring.

But he was thinking about Nick. Nick could feel it.

His cell phone chimed.

A message from Gabriel.

How long do I have to leave you alone?

Nick turned the phone around to show Michael, who rolled his eyes and said, “See?”

Nick slid his fingers across the screen to respond.

But then he changed his mind, deleted what he’d typed, and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

He took a gulp of his rapidly cooling coffee. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“All right. Another question then.” Now Michael looked the slightest bit flustered. “Is there . . . you know . . . a guy in the picture?”

Nick couldn’t keep the blush from his cheeks. “Ah . . . yeah.”

“Aha. I was wondering why you told me now. Does he go to your school?”

“No.”

Michael stopped with the mug halfway to his mouth. “Please tell me he’s not thirty-five and you met him on craigslist.”

Nick glared at him. “No. Jesus, Michael. He’s nineteen. He dances with Quinn.”

“So all this time you’ve been spending with Quinn . . .”

“I’ve been spending with Adam.” His jaw tightened. “And Quinn has been spending with Tyler.”

“Whoa!” Michael’s eyebrows went way up. “Now we’re building a new puzzle.”

“Yeah, it’s fantastic.”

“Can I revel in this first-to-know status and get the whole story? Or do I have to drag that out of you during another dinner?”

“No,” said Nick, feeling something like relief for the first time in a week. “I’ll tell you everything.”

Michael had always made for a good audience, and he kept his mouth shut while Nick talked.

Until he started laying it out, Nick hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying around. He felt like sandbags had been strapped to his back for weeks, and now someone had stabbed a hole in one of them: it all poured out. He told Michael about the first night he’d met Adam, the way Quinn had gotten in trouble with some bikers on the beach. He talked about Adam’s audition, and Quinn’s role, and—hesitantly at first—about the first night at Adam’s apartment.

When Michael’s expression didn’t change to disgust, Nick gained momentum, revealing Adam’s past experience and Quinn’s home situation. He talked about the way Tyler had burned her arm, how she’d called Nick to pick her up in the woods, and how he’d snuck her into the house because she didn’t want to go home.

Michael was pissed about that. “Nick, if your friends need help, you need to tell me. Don’t sneak them inside.”

“No girls spending the night, remember?”

“That’s not the same and you know it. Are you aware that when people dump their problems on you, you don’t actually have to solve them by yourself?”

Nick didn’t have an answer for that.

Michael kept going. “I’m actually more concerned with how you describe her home situation than I am about her spending time with Tyler.”

Nick flinched. “She won’t tell me all the details. I don’t know what’s going on at home half the time.”

“If she’s hiding in the woods, it can’t be good.”

Right now, after what she’d done, Nick didn’t really give a shit if Quinn was sleeping in the woods.

No. That wasn’t true. He did care. A lot.

She sure didn’t make it easy. “She says she’s waiting for her brother to go back to school. Her family is under a lot of stress since the fire.”

Michael sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Will she talk to anyone? What about Becca?”

“She won’t speak to her because Becca never told her about the Elemental stuff. Then she got all pissed at me because I told her Tyler was a dickhead who’d just hurt her. Now she’s avoiding everyone except Tyler.” Nick’s voice turned thick with disgust. “I think he was at school to pick her up. She said she has a new ride to school.”

“What about Adam? Will she talk to him?”

Nick looked down at the table. “Maybe, but she hasn’t been showing up to dance.”

“Could you ask him to reach out to her?”

Nick picked at the edge of his place mat and didn’t say anything.

“Come on,” said Michael. “Don’t leave out part of the story.”

So Nick told him about the previous night. About Adam. And Hunter. His cheeks were on fire, and he didn’t go to any great detail, but he talked.

“Wow,” said Michael, dragging the word into three syllables. “No wonder you’re so keyed up.”

Nick shrugged. His mood darkened as his brain replayed shoving Adam again. “Guess I’m aggressive sometimes, huh?”

Michael hesitated. “I didn’t mean that as an insult, Nick.”

He didn’t need to. Nick got it. He couldn’t help Quinn, he couldn’t fix things with Adam, and hell, he couldn’t even stand up to frigging Tyler.

“I’m going to talk to Becca’s mom,” Michael said finally. “She knows Quinn’s family.”

“You don’t need to get involved,” Nick said.

“Wrong. I think I should have gotten involved a long time ago.” He paused and drained the last of his coffee. “I also have a few thoughts about Tyler.”

Nick looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to confront him?”

“No. I’m going to leave him alone, and I think you should, too.” When Nick started to protest, Michael held up a hand. “I don’t think he’s hurting Quinn.” He paused, and his voice took on a shadow of the pain he’d expressed when he’d talked about that night at the quarry. “He hates me. He hates our whole family. He hates what we are and he hates what we can do. We see the dark side of Tyler because that’s all he lets us see.”

“Maybe that’s all there is to see,” Nick said bitterly.

“I don’t think so,” said Michael.

“Why not?”

“Because he loved his sister,” Michael said. “Very much.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he was the first kid I pulled out of the water that night. He was bleeding all over the place and his shoulder was dislocated, but once I brought him around, he coughed up a gallon of water and fought like hell to go back under to find her.” He paused. “I understand why he hates us, Nick. I do. But I think part of him hates himself, too.”

Nick thought of the burn on Quinn’s wrist. Of the way Tyler had grabbed him two hours ago. Of the years of abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Tyler and Seth and their friends. He kept flashing on that gym class freshman year, when Tyler had cornered Nick in the locker room and beaten the crap out of him.

Nick could still remember feeling powerless, clenching his fists so he wouldn’t call elements by accident, afraid to swing because he didn’t want Tyler to hit him harder.

He’d switched places with Gabriel the next day. His twin wasn’t afraid to hit back.

What had Quinn said? Tyler still thinks your brother killed his sister.

Tyler had confided in Quinn. About something that had happened five years ago.

Quinn had confided in Tyler. What else had she told him?

Nick’s head couldn’t handle all these emotions. “Can we go?” he asked abruptly.

Michael took it in stride. “Sure. If you’re ready.”

The drive home was quiet aside from the steady rain smacking the windshield. This time, the temperature in the cab remained steady. No tension hung between Nick and his brother.

“Thanks,” Nick finally said. “For being okay.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Michael paused. “I won’t say anything to the guys.”

Nick nodded. “Thanks.”

Michael was silent for a while. “Can I tell Hannah?”

Nick thought about it. “Yeah. I think that’d be okay.”

Michael nodded and didn’t say anything else.

Nick wanted to put everyone’s troubles out of his head, to let the sound of rain on the windshield steal his thoughts and let him relax. Instead, he kept analyzing his conversation with Michael. About Quinn, about Adam.

About Tyler.

They were almost home when Nick figured out what Michael had meant about Tyler.

He was the first kid Michael had pulled out of the water.

Covered in blood with a dislocated shoulder, but when I brought him around . . .

Tyler had been hit by a rock, too. Michael hadn’t just lost Emily that night.

He’d saved Tyler’s life.

Quinn blotted at the cut on Tyler’s cheek, being a little rougher than she needed to be. “Why did you pick a fight with him?”

“I didn’t pick a fight.”

“You’re telling me you were only standing there and Nick Merrick walked up and started bringing down a tornado on your ass? Yeah, okay.”

Tyler looked at her, not flinching as she pressed a cotton ball full of antiseptic against his face. She honestly didn’t know why she was bothering—the cut was an hour old, and he could probably light a candle and heal himself. Or something.

When he spoke, his voice was rough and angry. “I hated them before, but now—” He gritted his teeth. “I hate that he’s using you, Quinn.”

“He’s not using me,” she said quietly. “It’s—it’s an illusion. I’m not doing anything for him. And he’s my friend. I hate that you got into it with him.”

“If he’s your friend, he should be protecting you.”

She flung the cotton in the trash. “I can take care of myself.”

“How? By clinging to any guy who will give you a second glance?”

“Fuck you.” She swung a fist to punch him in the chest.

He caught her wrist and, when she fought, wrestled her back against the wall. She glared up at him, breathing heavy, seething with anger.

He got right in her face. “Get as mad as you want, baby girl. You know it’s true.”

She hated him. Hated him.

She would not cry. Would not.

He held her there. “You sure do make it tough to help you. I’m almost inclined to give Merrick a free pass.”

“At least he doesn’t treat me like this.”

“Like what? It’s okay for you to punch me, but when I stop you, I’m the asshole? Is that part of your screwed-up morality?”

Quinn didn’t have anything to say to that.

Tyler kept going. “You keep acting like I’m hurting you because I don’t want to sleep with you. Guess what, sweetheart. I don’t want to sleep with someone who keeps acting like it’s a form of payment.”

She flinched hard, unable to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat.

“Do you even like me?” he said. “Or did I just show up at the right time?”

That made her sag under the tension of his hands. She looked away from him, clenching her jaw against tears and speech. Her hair fell across her face, and she studied the bathroom tile.

“I’ve never lied to you,” said Tyler. “I’m not going to start now, okay?”

She had no idea where this was going. It sounded like a prelude to him kicking her ass out of his apartment.

But then he said, “I’ve liked you since the day you went off on me in Merrick’s driveway. I like that you aren’t afraid of me. I like that you don’t seem to be afraid of anything. I like that you’re driven, that you dance in the middle of the woods when you have nowhere else. I like that you’ve been through hell with your family, and you’re still willing to come up kicking.”

Quinn peeked at him through the fall of hair.

“You know what I hate?” he said evenly. “I hate that you’re too stubborn to ask anyone for help, even though you damn sure need it. I hate when someone tries to help and you do everything you can to make them wash their hands of you. But the absolute worst thing, the thing that I can’t fucking stand, is how you’re this beautiful, talented girl, but for some reason you act like you need to buy a guy’s favor.”

Tears were running down her cheeks now. “I don’t do that. I don’t.”

“You do, Quinn.” His hands softened on her wrists. “You do it with me, and you did it with Merrick.”

“I never did anything with Nick.”

“Are you kidding me? You pretended to be his girlfriend! You were so desperate to be attached to a guy that you latched on to one who doesn’t even like girls.”

“I was helping him,” she cried. “Because he was my friend.”

“No, you were afraid to let him go,” said Tyler. “Because you were afraid to give someone a chance to like you for real.”

She needed him to stop talking. She needed to stop crying. She needed out. To get out. Of here. Right now.

But her limbs felt too weak, like she couldn’t hold herself up.

“I get it,” said Tyler. “I’ve seen your family. The people who should love you, don’t. I just—you’re worth more than that. I wish you could see that.”

“Have you been studying for your Psych one-oh-one final or something?” she said, trying for anger, but her voice came out defeated. “Why don’t you leave me alone.”

He sighed and let her go. Quinn didn’t move.

Tyler ran a hand through his blond hair. “Are you hungry?”

Quinn glanced up at him. After a long minute, she nodded.

“Feel like Chinese?”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded broken.

His cell phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket to glance at the display. He sighed again, heavily. “Damn it. One of the alarms is going off at the strip mall. I need to go check it out.” He hesitated. “Are you going to be okay for half an hour? I’ll bring food back with me.”

No. She wouldn’t be okay.

But Quinn nodded. What else could she do?

“Come on,” he said. “I can’t just leave you collapsed on the floor of the bathroom.”

She wiped the tears off her face and flopped on the couch instead.

He hesitated at the door. “I’m not going to come home and find you gone, am I?”

She shook her head. Where else would she go?

Then he was gone, and it took everything she had not to call him back.

His voice reverberated through her head.

You’re this beautiful, talented girl, but for some reason you act like you need to buy a guy’s favor.

Did she do that?

She thought of all the boys she’d dated, the way she treated them, the way they treated her. Rafe Gutierrez, the boy who’d acted surprised when she told him that no, they didn’t have an open relationship. Or Andy Kauffman, who said she was boring when she didn’t want to get naked in his basement night after night. Or Lev Spartara, the boy she’d strung along with promises of heavy make-out sessions in the backseat of his mom’s Toyota.

Had she been using them the same way they’d been using her?

She remembered sitting in Nick’s front seat, climbing into his lap, practically unbuttoning his pants after he’d told her she couldn’t spend the night at his house.

And then offering to continue being his girlfriend—under the pretense of keeping his secret.

Tyler was right. She and Nick might have been friends, but there was dishonesty on both sides of that relationship.

She fought her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through all the text messages she’d ignored.

With shaking fingers, she dialed. The line was answered almost immediately.

“Quinn? Are you okay?”

What did it say about her life that she got a greeting like that?

“Becca,” she said, and suddenly she almost couldn’t speak through her tears. “Becca, I really need to talk to you.”