Page 5 of Actions and Reactions (All It Takes #5)

Silas

The awkwardness we seemed to beat back on the plane by playing Gin comes back with a vengeance when we walk over to the black Jeep that’s waiting for us at the small airport nearest to our cabin.

Lex was struck mute by the sight of us walking over side by side, and he barely got a “hello” out before Ivan was asking him a million questions about school and his season and whatnot.

It was very clearly a distraction tactic, but I’m still grateful Ivan isn’t giving Lex a second to get a word in when we’re only a minute away from the cabin.

Lex isn’t exactly shy.

He never has been, and though I haven’t seen him much in the last seven years, I know for a fact his teenage attitude has only intensified his shamelessness.

I can very easily picture him asking us why we flew together, and then sincerely asking how awkward it was, but Ivan doesn’t give him a chance.

Still, I know exactly how awkward it’s been, and since I’ve thought of that word at least a dozen times in the last six hours, I’m sure it’s apparent to Ivan as well.

“Everyone’s already here,” Lex says as he shifts the Jeep into park. He hesitates for just a moment where I see his eyes collide with mine through the rearview mirror. “We actually got here last night.”

“What?” Ivan explodes, while I’m just dumbstruck.

They texted us last night . . .

“Yeah, I’ve known about it for a week,” Lex admits and looks down and away.

“That’s . . .” Ivan trails off, clearly speechless.

But now I’m the one ready to explode.

“It’s fucking insulting,” I murmur darkly, then snap my door open and throw my bag over my shoulder.

I let myself feel every bit of indignation that’s in me as I stomp my way to the porch steps, but the hurried footsteps behind me have me reconsidering.

I don’t know exactly what Ivan feels in this moment, though I assume it’s the same as me, but if he doesn’t want me to... if he feels that they’re right...

Fuck!

“What are you going to do?” he asks when he catches up to me. The agitation and urgency in the question tells me I’m right about his feelings.

“I’m going to yell, probably,” I tell him honestly .

“Good,” he answers, his voice as full of anger as mine.

I open the door and walk right past the empty living room and over to the kitchen where, just as I thought I would, I find all the “adults” sitting at the big farmhouse table.

“Where’s Lottie?” I ask about my sister, looking right into my mother’s eyes. She looks up, startled—and who could blame her—but I’m not about to sugarcoat shit today.

“In her room,” Mom says, voice full of trepidation.

I turn when I hear a thunk, and see that Ivan’s dropped his big duffel by his feet, and then he kicks it down the hallway so hard it collides with his room’s door at the end.

Our parents’ rooms are upstairs, and we have the four down here. As far as I know, he always does that when we get here because, at least when we were kids, he couldn’t bother to take the minute to put his suitcase in his room before running out the door to start his summer fun.

His impatience clearly hasn’t changed.

“Why don’t you sit, boys?” Dad asks, his voice so damn careful. Like he thinks he’s talking to wild lions.

“Oh no, fuck that.” I shake my head and put my bag down too.

“Yeah, no,” Ivan agrees and crosses his arms. “You have some explaining to do for all this bullshit.”

“Hey, watch it!” Hulk snaps at his son, and his stormy eyes would intimidate literally anyone else, but Ivan only tips his chin up a little more then scoffs.

I walk around the big island and open the liquor cabinet .

Just like I thought, there’s a brand new bottle of Uncle Hulk’s favorite vodka, so I snatch it and walk back to Ivan.

“We...” I gesture to Ivan and me. “Are going to the dock to get shitfaced, and you guys should think about how hurtful you’re being.”

“You’re acting like a child, Si,” Mom tells me softly.

“No,” Ivan snaps. “ You’re treating us like children.

If you’d done that seven years ago, maybe I would’ve been at Silas’s graduation, or maybe he would’ve been at my draft, but you treated us like adults when we weren’t, and now you don’t get to coddle or meddle anymore.

Not while we figure out how to move forward.

Thanks for your help, ” he emphasizes with obvious derision.

“But Silas and I are fine, and now we’re going to have fun away from all of you. ”

I don’t know if I agree with every single word. I know all four of them did the best they could with the information we gave them, but they could’ve pushed us more to explain the situation no matter how embarrassing.

We were kids, and we were hurting.

My parents were also hurting, I admit that—I understand that. After all, I almost lost my leg, and seeing me so hurt was hell for them too.

But I know now that after—months after when I was done with my physical therapy—they should’ve pushed me to talk to them or anyone about Ivan.

It’s hard to come to peace with the fact that they did the best they could, though.

“Come on,” Ivan whispers and nods to the back door.

We follow the path through the woods that leads to the lake, and when we get to the shore, I’m not surprised when he walks right past our dock and toward our neighbor’s.

“Do you think maybe there’s someone there this time?” I ask, my tone deceptively calm, but I need to try, for both of us.

“No,” he says shortly and shakes his head once. “I came last year and it’s still empty.” He opens the bottle and takes a mouthful then passes it over to me.

I take it on autopilot, and before I can second-guess myself, take a swig too— aaaand immediately regret it.

“Oh god, that’s bad,” I say between coughs. “I don’t know what kind of life you think I’ve led, but drinking vodka straight from the bottle really hasn’t been a part of it at all.”

His lips tilt to the right in a sharp smirk when he turns to take the bottle back.

“Really?” he says, clearly incredulous. “You’re the one who went to college. You didn’t get the full experience there?”

A big part of me wants to shut down that topic, hard , but I know that if I want to get any semblance of our friendship back—and I do —then I need to tell him. He’s probably the only one who’d understand.

“Nope.” I have to take a big breath before I can continue.

“When I made the choice to pursue a career in PR, I decided I was going to be the best.” I swear I try to make the words come out happy and nonchalant.

.. confident. But I’m pretty sure I come up way short.

“So when I got to college I didn’t want to get distracted by anything.

All my focus was on classes and getting the best grades I possibly could. ”

“And you graduated with a 4.0 GPA,” he says. I can hear as well as see the smile on his face. We’re finally at the neighbor’s dock so we walk to the end of it and sit in silence. I see he put the cap back on the bottle, and he sets it aside to lean back on his palms.

“I did,” I tell him finally.

“Was it worth it?” he asks almost in a whisper.

“College?” I ask, to clarify.

“Yes. Was putting all your focus on it worth it?”

I want to throw the question right back at him, but...

“It was.” A rueful chuckle escapes me and his green eyes widen with surprise.

I try to soldier on even though the sun makes his hair look soft and inviting.

.. I want to run my hand through those dark blond strands so badly.

“I got respect for my work and the most prestigious internship in LA, which then helped me meet and impress Tristan, which led to him recommending me to Gab.”

“So it all turned out well,” he concludes and looks down. The words are supposed to be positive, but they definitely don’t sound that way.

“I’d say it did,” I tell him, trying to sound cheerful again.

“You always wanted to be the best,” he murmurs. “And now I think you are one of the best for sure. The way you handled everything with Santa and Charlie was impressive, and compared to the shitshow it was before you arrived, the PR of the team really is doing a lot better. ”

I appreciate him saying so, more than I think is warranted, but I can’t get the words out.

We’ve both apologized, we’re... catching up, I guess, but we’re not back to normal.

How will we ever get back to normal when ...

“I wish I could change everything,” I admit in a whisper.

It’s the most truthful thing I think I’ve said in years.

“Really?” he asks, his voice shaking. “Everything?” He turns to me again, even brings his left leg up to the dock so he’s fully facing me, but I just stare at the deep blue water. There’s no way I can face him now, talking about this.

“Yes.” The knot in my throat barely lets me speak.

“Especially that night, but also every single one of the days after.” It feels like a dam breaking and I can finally put some of my feelings into words after years of failing.

“I wish I could change what happened in the hospital if nothing else, Vinny,” I say, and the old nickname comes out so suddenly, so naturally, that I twitch restlessly and place my hands on my thighs to keep them from. .. doing anything.

It’s the first time I’ve said that word in so long , and it feels like coming home.

But only to me apparently.

“Don’t,” he whispers harshly, but I can’t stop.

“I really am sorry, Vinny.” I turn in the hopes that he’ll meet my eyes and see the truth in them. “I’ve regretted what I said every day?—”

He stops me with a kiss.