Page 79 of Full Split

Because somewhere in the mess of everything—Wyatt, Weston, the fallout waiting to crash down on all of us—I’ve finally figured out one thing.

I know what I have to do.

I can’t keep waiting for the moment to fix itself. I can’t keep avoiding Weston’s silence, pretending like if I just focus hard enough on my routines, it’ll all fade away.

It won’t.

Dr. Zem is right. I need to talk to him. I’m not getting through this without telling him everything. Without making him see the truth.

I just don’t know how. Or when.

Lying here, I start planning out ways to force the conversation. Maybe I’ll order room service to his door and barge in the moment he opens it. I stole that idea from Wyatt. It’s not great, but it might be the only thing I have. Maybe I’ll catch him tonight, when he can’t escape me after the competition. If not, room service it is.

But then, like the universe’s cruel idea of a favor, I get my chance early.

Just before staging, I slip away to the restroom, needing a second to breathe. Needing space to splash cold water on my face and remind myself that I’m still here, still standing.

I don’t even hear him come in, but when I look up, there he is.

I meet his eyes in the mirror, and it’s like looking at a stranger wearing my best friend’s face. He freezes, like he’s not sure whether to glare at me or bolt. He didn’t expect me to not be in the stall.

Annoyance flashes across his face, but beneath it, I see something else. Something raw. Something almost like fear.

Of what?

Of me?

Of what I’ll say?

He doesn’t say a word, just turns and heads back through the door. But I can’t let him walk away again without saying something. Anything.

I try for humor.

“Yeah,” I say, and my voice cracks a little. “You still love me.”

The words hang there. For a second, I think he’ll ignore them.

Except he stops and turns back to look at me. His arms cross over his chest, but it feels more like defense than anger.

“What?”

I swallow hard.Be brave. Don’t be defensive.

“You wouldn’t be following me around if you didn’t still want to protect me.”

He doesn’t deny it but looks unimpressed.

“Come on dude, you totally just got caught trying to police the bathroom.”

He still doesn’t say anything, and I feel like I’m about to lose my chance. So I shoot my shot and spit it all out at once.

“I love you, okay? You’re my best friend. My brother. You’ve been there for as long as I can remember. I’d never—” My voice shakes. I push the words out, anyway. “I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

He exhales slowly, like he’s holding something back. Maybe anger or tears—I can’t tell.

I step closer. “You’re pissed and that’s understandable, but I don’t believe that you think I’m a bad person or that I’m trying to hurt you. Maybe you believe I’m careless, and that’s fair. I should have been honest with you. It was always the plan to tell you. We were just waiting for the right time. It only happened recently, and it happened fast.”

Weston makes a face like he doesn’t want to hear this, but he needs to know.