Page 103 of The Way I Used to Be

He kisses my cheek on his front porch. Even his cat comes outside to see me off. He offers to drive me to the police station, then he offers to drive me home, then he offers to walk me home, but I need to walk myself. And I have one other person to talk to before I can go to the police.

I take one step off the porch and turn around. He stands there with his hands in his pockets. “Josh, are you okay? I mean, how is everything?” This should’ve been my first question, not my last.

He smiles. “Yeah. I’m good, basically.”

“Good. I’m glad. School’s good?”

He nods. “School’s good, yeah.”

“And how’s your dad? You know, with his problem?”

He forces a smile, looks off somewhere above my head, trying to find the words. “He’s—you know, it’s just”— he meets my eyes, and I understand—“it is what it is, right?”

I nod, stand there for a second, take a breath as I try to memorize him, and then finally I turn away.

“Hey,” he calls after me as I’m halfway down his driveway. I stop and turn. “You’re gonna call me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I’ve never answered any question so honestly in my life.

“And you’re gonna speak this time, right?” He grins.

I smile. “Yes.”

He nods, takes his hand out of his pocket, and waves good-bye.

“WHY AREN’T YOU ATschool?” Caelin mumbles at me, still lying on the couch where I left him hours earlier. Not asleep, just staring off into space. He can’t force his eyes away from the nothing to even look at me.

“Cae, I need to talk to you.”

“Edy, please. I can’t right now, okay?”

I actually feel bad for him. I feel bad for the things he found out about his best friend, for the things I’m about to tell him. Feel bad that things are going to get so much worse. “Can I get you anything?” I ask.

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

I go into the kitchen and pour him a glass of the good cold water from the fridge. “Here.” I sit down on the floor next to the couch with the glass.

He sits up slowly and takes a sip of the water. “Thanks.”

“It’s important,” I find the courage to say, feeling for the first time like maybe this actually is important, like it matters. LikeImatter.

It takes him a few extra seconds to hear me. He sets the glass down on the coffee table. “All right,” he says finally, rubbing his eyes, looking totally disinterested.

“Caelin, I have to tell you something and it’s important that you listen and that you don’t interrupt me.”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening.”

I take a breath. I can do this. “All right, this is hard, really hard. I’m not even sure where to start.”

“At the beginning...?” he offers sarcastically, not knowing he’s being helpful in spite of himself.

“Okay. I’ll start at the beginning. There was this night,” I start. I stop. I start again, “I was a freshman—and I never told anyone about it, but this night—okay, there was this night that—everyone was asleep and—Kevin came into my room—”

“For the love of God, Edy, can you just pick one sentence and finish—”

“Please.” I hold my hand up; it silences him for once. “He came into my room in the middle of the night and...” I can’t look at him when I say it. I close my eyes and cover them with my hands because it’s the only way I’ll be able to get it out. “And he got in my bed.” I take a breath. “He raped me. He did, okay, Caelin. And I never told anyone because he said he would kill me if I did. And I believed him. So I know that what they’re saying is true because he did it to me, too. And I’m sorry, because I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you don’t believe me, Cae”—I gasp to catch my breath—“then you’re not my brother anymore.” I breathe. And wait. And breathe. And wait.

Silence.