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EARLY MORNING WAKE UPS AND LINDSEY

Lizzie

DECEMBER 5, 2003

I HAD NO IDEA WHAT POSSESSED ME TO DO WHAT I DID IN FRONT OF HIS FRIENDS, BUT I didn’t regret it.

Because he wouldn’t talk to me and wouldn’t listen.

I had nothing left at my disposal.

“What happened?” Claire asked, sitting cross-legged on her bed later that night. “I mean, I know he’s my brother, but you can always talk to me, too, you know? I’m here for you, bestie.”

I couldn’t tell her because I wouldn’t have a friend left if she knew the truth.

If she knew how I betrayed her brother.

“It’s on me,” I forced myself to whisper, because no matter how far it pushed us apart, I couldn’t let him take the blame for something he had no part in. “It’s all on me, Claire.”

“Well, Gerard told me that I’m not supposed to talk about it anymore,” she continued to ramble. “He wouldn’t say why or explain anything to me, but he made me promise that I wouldn’t talk about your relationship anymore. Not to anyone.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Hugh has every right to want to forget about it.”

Her eyes widened with sadness. “Forget about your relationship?”

“Me, Claire,” I replied, swallowing deeply. “To forget about me .”

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, but when I finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning, I was woken what felt like minutes later by the sound of loud clattering near my head and the sensation of something light and plastic landing on top of the duvet.

Blinking awake, I sprung up in confusion just in time to see Hugh slam his huge stereo system, speakers and all, down on his sister’s nightstand. The one on the side of his sister’s bed that I was sleeping on.

Once he had the stereo plugged into the electrical outlet behind his sister’s nightstand and powered up, Hugh stood back up and quickly set to work on flicking through tracks before settling on number fifteen.

I knew what he was doing the second the historic drum pattern and guitar riff sounded in my ears.

He’s responding .

Heart hammering violently, I snatched up the CD case that was thrown on top of me and just stared at him, while Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” drifted through the speakers.

He kept his eyes on me when he reached for the volume button and turned it up to its maximum level.

Oh yeah, he was making sure I heard him.

“Omigod, what the hell is happening?” Claire groaned, dragging a pillow over her head while burrowing herself deeper under the covers. “Turn it off, Liz.”

There was a better chance of hell freezing over.

Both captivated and ensnared by her brother’s eyes, I watched him watch me, unable to move a muscle.

The weight of my regret was pinning me to the mattress, while the force of his resentment was squeezing the air out of my lungs.

I could feel the anger simmering off him; I could feel the hurt and silent accusations wafting out of his heart and right into mine.

This is your fault , he was telling me with his eyes. You did this to us .

“Omigod, Hugh!” Resurfacing from beneath a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals, Claire broke our heated stare-down when she flung Garry, her ugly-assed, oversized stuffed bear at her brother’s head. “Get the hell out of my room, you weirdo, and take your bloody music with you!”

After one final emotional glance, Hugh tore his eyes off mine and moved for the door, but he didn’t turn off the music, leaving his stereo behind him to tell me all of the things his pride would never allow him to say.