chapter thirty-six

A lit cigarette hung between my lips. An American Spirit, turquoise. I liked American Spirits the best, I thought, and if I gave the guy at the gas station a bright enough smile and swung my hips as I walked through the aisles, he'd slip me an extra pack. It was twilight, the sky a grey-blue that made me feel grounded. The concrete of Bobby's front steps dug into the skin on the bottom of my thighs, but the sleeve of my sweater protected the skin on my palm as I rested my weight on my hand. I inhaled, held my breath, and let the smoke flow out through my nose. I liked smoking. I liked it a lot. I liked the way it filled up my lungs and flowed through me and came out unaffected. It calmed me.

I kicked my leg up and dropped it down against the concrete again. My bare legs told a story. Small cuts from stumbling through the woods, red bug bites, bleeding from the way I picked at them, small bruises from stumbling and tumbling, big bruises from kickboxing and muay thai and fighting.

My hands were worse. I pulled the cigarette away from my lips and let it rest between my ring and middle fingers. My knuckles were, and always would be, a deep shade of purple, calloused and scarred and knocked out of place. Some of my fingers were crooked. I sighed. I was only seventeen.

I broke things. That's what I did. That was my schtick. I was Remy Cree and I broke things. It was always true and every time I thought the cracks were filled and the dust was settled I'd go ahead and break everything all over again. And what's worse was I was starting to get comfortable. I was thinking that it would be the last time I ruined something and that what I held in between my fingers wasn't fragile enough to be shattered. But I told myself that, if I had to, I would choose my brother over anything else. So that's what I did.

I would spend a lot of time in bed, curtains drawn and eyes heavy because I couldn't sleep and I heard Bobby on the phone a lot. She yelled, voice muffled through the walls and I didn't know what she was saying but I knew it was about me. I could tell from the way she would walk into the room and sit next to me without a word, she would just put her hand on my knee and squeeze.

And it was weird, because I thought I would want to pour back bottles and throw curled fists into a stranger's face because I was Remy Cree and that was what I did. But I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want the chaos to distract me from whatever I was feeling because I wasn't feeling anything and the only thing I wanted to do was sleep but I couldn't.

There was a version of me in the mirror that was new. A version of me this type of heartbreak unlocked. Heavy bags under my eyes and sagging skin and cracked and crusted lips. I didn't know what this was. But it felt like I had given up the person who made me feel a happiness I couldn't describe for Briah. Not even the Briah I knew to be my brother. But the new, shiny, scar-free Briah, with a silver-tongue and a talent for self-preservation. I didn't wanna think about it.

Tires rolled against the gravel, and the sight of a familiar truck rolling in made me snuff out the cigarette, twisting it against the concrete into a pile of black ash. Leah didn't like the smell of it. She complained about it every time she came around, about how it stuck to me and my clothes and rubbed off on Bobby. I didn't tell her that Bobby bummed a few off me every time she poured something extra into her drink.

I didn't look up when the sound of her door slamming made me flinch or when her footsteps grew closer. But when they stopped and she settled down next to me, our thighs brushing, I threw a glance in her direction. "Bobby's been getting ready since like, noon," I told her, brushing away the pile of ash with the tips of my fingers. "You should've told her where you're going. She had a breakdown trying to figure out what to wear."

Leah didn't say anything to that, just smirked, like that was exactly what she was expecting and exactly what she wanted to hear. I didn't blame her. I liked the way Leah riled up and humbled Bobby. "How you've been?" Leah asked, and I straightened up. There was one thing I really liked about Leah, and that was that she didn't pretend to care too much about me. I put on my face that I said I didn't wanna talk and she didn't talk to me. She didn't ask questions and she didn't prod.

I gave her a shrug, wrapping my arms around my knees and resting my chin on the top of them. I didn't like talking about it. I swallowed it. "I don't know," I told her. I didn't have the energy to fill her up with lies she would've seen through.

She sighed, leaning against the palm of her hands. "It smells like shit. You just smoke?" I nodded. "Y'know, Remy, I like you. You're a lot like Bobby and you're a lot like me and you're a lot like your brother."

I turned my head, eyes narrowed on her. "You knew my brother?"

Leah shrugged. "I knew him more than most people did," she told me, her voice a lighter tone than I was used to. Her eyes were somewhere else. "When me and Sam first broke up, we were close for a little, after that. He was a good friend."

"Nice to hear something good about him, for once," I mumbled, nestling my chin back against my knees. There was a beat of silence, and I turned back towards her. "Are you here to try and make me forgive Embry or something?"

She didn't say anything for a minute. She was turning her tongue around in her mouth like she's trying to decide if she should tell the truth or not. "I think that's what I was supposed to do," she admitted after a minute. "But I gotta be honest with you, Remy, your situation is just really, really shitty, and I feel bad for you."

I didn't know what to say to that. I sat on it for a minute. I didn't like the pity but I figured it meant something coming from her. "Thanks, I guess."

"It's kind of fucked up that you're not really talking about it," she added, a casualty in her voice meant to make me feel a little less on edge.

"I mean, would you?"

"I guess not," she acknowledged. "But I'm not exactly the poster child for coping with things in the healthiest ways."

I shrugged. "I did what I did and I said what I said and now I guess I just have to deal with it."

There was something more sharp and urgent in her tone when she said, "Listen, Remy, I get what you're doing. I do it all the time. I know why, too. It's better to be an emotionless bitch than to be someone who needs help. But like," she sighed, pausing and looking down and starting over, "I think you need to know that you're not wrong. And if it means anything at all, I really admire you for standing by your brother, no matter how much it ends up screwing you over."

"Yeah, it's not getting me much, is it?"

"And I just wanted to say that, I dunno, I'm sorry that this is happening to you," she concluded, looking at me with slighting pursed lips and a wideness in her eyes that struck something in me.

Neither one of us said anything after that. I turned my attention away from her and focused on the skin around my fingernails and pretending she wasn't sitting next to me. I didn't know how long it was before the front door opened behind us and Bobby stepped out with a string of complaints and curses. "How long have you been sitting out here?" she questioned, looking down at Leah as she ran her fingers through the length of her hair.

Leah smiled, and stood. "Not long." Something stretched in my gut when Leah wrapped her fingers around Bobby's and smiled down at me. "See you later, Rem."

Bobby looked down at me with soft eyes that I hadn't been able to get used to. "Love you, dummy."

"Love you too, Bobby. Don't have too much fun."

I stole Bobby's car. I didn't really feel bad about it. She left me the keys and I used it almost as much as her and it had just gotten to the point where I really didn't even ask. And I figured I could've just walked, but the sun had long set and I was looking for excuses to be lazy. I was coated in layers of exhaustion that hung on me like wet clothes.

Car Seat Headrest boomed through the speakers and I wondered what it was like to sit on the side of the road while I blasted past, doing fifty in a twenty while Will Toledo's drowned out voice bounced off the trees. I had barely left the house; I didn't really need to anymore. After I had dragged myself through the trees and back into the large house I had grown used to, only stepping outside for cigarette breaks and whatever shifts at that stupid fucking bakery I got slated with.

I didn't know where I was going until I was there, parked on the side of the road and breathing heavy. I hadn't seen Quil since he was lying on that couch, wet blood still spilling. I thought I needed to see him breathing and moving like normal.

For a minute I just twisted around in the front seat, tapping my thumbs against the steering wheel and peering around trees, trying to see if Quil's parents were around. After spotting a few cars in the driveway I sighed, sliding out of the driver's seat. If there was one person I didn't want to see, it was Joy Atera. I didn't feel like putting on my polite face and having forced conversation. I weaved through the trees that lined their driveway and popped out in the backyard.

Light shone through his window. I knew it was his. I spent too many hours of my childhood holed up in there with him while our parents laughed too loudly at the dining room table. We would fight over GameBoy rights and scream over video games and it was a time I didn't know I missed. I didn't realize I was staring and by the time I had snuck over to knock on the glass it had started to drizzle.

I watched him shoot into view at the sound of my rapping. His head whipped around before his gaze landed on me. I watched his eyebrows rise and then draw in and he frowned and stepped forward, flinging his window open in one swift movement. "What the hell are you doing out there?"

""M lonely," I replied, trying to downplay the patheticness in my own voice. I could hear it, loud and clear and whiny, like the self-pity had lodged itself in my throat.

His eyes softened, and he stepped away from the window, gesturing from me to climb in. I felt stupid, lifting my leg and collapsing inside of myself to fit through. And once my feet hit the ground I stumbled, and Quil grabbed onto my arm to steady me. His room was smaller than I remembered. Or I was bigger. Fabric softener and cotton Fabreeze was heavy in the air. Quil fell back onto his bed. "I heard you and Embry broke up." He had a wonderful way with sympathy.

There was a bean bag in the corner, like there always had been, and when I jumped into it dust flew into the air like I was the last person to sit in it. "How're you feeling?" I asked, ignoring his statement. I didn't know that me and Embry had broken up. It didn't feel like a break up, to me, at least. I didn't even think it was possible to break up with someone who you had a soul connection with.

Quil tossed his shoulders up. "Feels like nothing ever happened."

I scanned him, slumped up against his bed frame and his arm tucked behind his head. He seemed fine. He seemed normal. But when I looked at him I saw the gash and the blood and my stomach stirred. "Good. Would've sucked if you had died." He snorted. "Seriously, though, I'm glad you're okay."

He gave me a closed-mouth smile. "Thanks, Rem."

"Sorry I didn't come to see you sooner," I told him, pushing my thumbs together and refusing to make eye contact.

"'S okay," Quil shrugged. "I was better after a fourteen hour sleep and some heavy duty painkillers. That stuff fucks, by the way. And everyone's been hovering over me like I'm an injured World War II veteran." He paused, and I gave an empty chuckle. "Have you heard from Briah?"

The question made my stomach drop. "No. No texts or surprise drop ins or anything."

"Well, I did."

I blinked. "What?"

With a heavy sigh, Quil heaved himself up and moved over towards a pile of crumpled papers on his dresser. "Here," he said, pinching a piece of lined paper between his fingers and holding it out towards me. "Found this on my bed this morning."

Skeptical, I grabbed it from him. The handwriting was familiar but distant, not shaky and rushed but straightened out and too perfect, like a font. I swallowed. "Quil, sorry about what happened. Wasn't supposed to go down like that. Think I need to be alone for a while. Tell Rem I'll be back when it's safe." I turned the paper around, back and forth a few times, staring, eyes searching for more. "That's it?"

Quil grabbed it out of my hands again. "Thought he might've told you more or something."

And I was mad. I was mad at Briah and I clenched my fist and unclenched it and ground my teeth together until my jaw ached. And I tried to tell myself that I should just be grateful that he was alive to piss me off, but he was alive and pissing me off and gone. After everything I did for him and everything I would've done for him. "How is it possible that he's become an even bigger asshole in the afterlife?"

"I know I can't be the first one to bring this to your attention, but this whole thing kind of blows," he said, sitting back down at the edge of his bed. "I dunno how you're coping."

"I'm not," I told him, trying to sound like I wasn't as bothered as I was. "But the pity party everyone's been throwing me is helping."

"What've you been doing the past couple days, anyways?" he questioned, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

"Sulking, mostly," I answered, leaning deeper into the bean bag. It was easier being honest with Quil than it was being honest with Leah. It was the first time I had to say it outloud, because Bobby didn't even need to ask. "Picked up a couple of extra shifts at work and played Candy Crush for three hours. That was a dark time. What about you?"

"I dunno, same shit," he dismissed. "Embry's a mess."

My eyes narrowed at him. "I don't wanna hear it."

I could never decide if I wanted people to treat me delicately or not. It seemed like I wanted whatever they weren't doing. Because when Quil said, confidently and with no hint of sympathy in his voce, "That sucks, then. Cause I'm gonna talk about it," I thought about throttling him.

"Why?" I deadpanned.

"Because you're both being stupid and fighting over nothing," Quil asserted.

"He said he would kill my brother."

He rolled his eyes like I was being dramatic. "Embry's not gonna do that."

"He said it."

"Look, Remy," Big Brother Quil started, sighing and adjusting and looking at me like I was too young and stupid to understand, "you of all people should know that Embry's a little too severe for his own good. The kid basically had to be his own dad. He thinks it's his job to take care of you and me and everyone else he cares about."

"That's stupid."

"Stupider than getting into fist fights with strangers after drinking entire bottles of rum?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"Look, Embry's got the whole entire world on his shoulders and he thinks he has to choose between making you happy and protecting the rest of us," Quil explained. "And I'm not saying you're wrong for trying to protect Briah, but Embry's not wrong for trying to protect his brothers, either. You two didn't even try to meet in the middle."

My feet were tapping on the ground and I dug my canines into the flesh of my cheek. "I don't like compromising."

Quil laughed. "Well tough shit, Remy. That's what relationships are."

I squinted at him. "How would you know?"

"Because unlike you and Embry, I grew up with functional parents," he snarked, leaning back against the wall. My fingernails dug into my skin and suddenly I didn't know why I was there and I thought that maybe Embry had a point and leaving when things got tough was the best option. I stood. "Where are you going?"

"I didn't come here for tough love," I told him. "Too fragile for that now. I'll see you later."

I reached for his window and before I could twist myself up to fling myself out the window, Quil said, "If it makes you feel any better, I was way more harsh on Embry."

"Whatever," I replied, feet hitting the grass and unwilling to admit it did make me feel better.

akkakakkakk ok so. just a short filler chapter because i suck and cant do anything consistently. this was supposed to be longer and more significant and better but it turns out im actually stupid. im SORRY! for not updating for so long i feel actually bad abt it i love this story so much. pls let me know what u think!

also, as im sure SO many of u noticed. there are literally so many typos and mistakes in this story. why? because i am dsylexic and have adhd and cannot proof read for shit. i just literally cannot do it, even tho i try my eyes just end up seeing what they wanna see. so, if there's anyone out there who would be interested in helping me proofread and correct all my mistakes, i would be forever grateful to u. just shoot me a pm!