Letting You Know (12 page)

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Authors: Nora Flite

BOOK: Letting You Know
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I
heard you finished your finals.”


Yeah,”
he laughed, “they sucked.”


Yeah,”
I said, nodding slowly. “So, can I talk to you for a second?”

No
one else had spoken, the quiet was torture. Bethany looked between
Nicholas and me, before finally smiling at my mother. “I'll go
hang our coats up, Jenna.”


Yes,”
she nodded, turning towards the stove. I couldn't exactly tell what
she was doing, I refused to take my unblinking stare off of my
brother.

Nicholas
flicked a look behind me, eyeing something else. “You must be
Leah,” he said.


Oh,”
she gasped, slipping around me, deeper into the group. I glimpsed how
drained of blood her face was. “Uh, yes, you're Nicholas,
right?”

He
opened his mouth, I cut him off briskly. “Nicholas. Outside,
with me, please.”

Something
akin to sarcasm, as if he were humoring me and everyone else was in
on the joke, rolled across his face. “I guess I'll have to get
a proper introduction later, Leah. Good to meet you, brief as it was.
Well, excuse me.” Ducking his head, he shot me a frustrated
glance, passing around me so very close in the doorway. Even so, he
didn't touch a single fiber on my shirt.

Leah
was staring at me, but I had no time to assure her everything was
fine.

I
couldn't have lied, and it definitely wasn't.

My
legs were numb, carrying me through the living-room. Nicholas
understood we needed to be alone, he didn't slow down until we had
slipped out the front door, into the chilly winter evening.

I
only knew it was cold because of how dark and grey it was outside,
that it was December. My gut was searing too much with acid to allow
me to feel the bone-aching briskness.


What
the hell was that about?” He demanded, facing me with
indignation.


Excuse
me?” I snapped, steamy breath floating in the air. The bright
Christmas lights decorating the rim of the house and the yard lit us
both up in strange colors. “Are you actually getting upset with
me?
Nicholas, what the
hell
is Bethany doing here!?”

Rolling
his eyes, my younger brother crossed his arms. It said something
about my state of mind right then that I considered how that would
offer him little protection. “Relax, Deacon. Jesus, you're
overreacting.”


Am
I?” I laughed, lifting my hands by the sides of my skull. “I'm
noticing that you aren't answering me.” My intuition was
burning, warning me of what I suspected, but wished to deny until he
confirmed it.

Somber,
guilty eyes fixed on me in a moment of quiet. The red, flickering
lights of some hanging candy canes illuminated his pale, sharp
cheeks. While I had taken after my father in features, Nicholas
clearly had our mother's angular nose and structure. He reminded me
of a knife; as he spoke, hurting me, that thought only grew firmer.


Bethany
and I are dating, Deacon. I... look, I was going to tell you, but I
just never knew when a good time for that would be.”

The
sound of my own laugh was surprising; hollow, dry, it echoed out into
the night air. “So, you figured telling me at Christmas around
the family would be the perfect time?”


No,
that isn't—”


What
the hell is
wrong
with
you?” I growled, holding my temples tightly. Inside, my skull
felt like it was swelling. It made sense, everything about Bethany's
lack of surprise when she saw me at church... about my dad's weird
behavior with her, inviting her to brunch. They'd all known I was
coming, all of them knew this would happen, and not one of them had
said a word to me.

It
all made so much awful sense.


Seriously,”
I hissed through my gritted jaw, “in what world is dating my ex
okay!?”

Whatever
shame had been on his face fled, leaving behind bitter righteousness.
“Mom and Dad don't have a problem with it.”

That
stopped me, put a heavy, breath-stealing pause in my growing fury.
Softly, I spoke, watching him warily. “What do you mean?”


They
like Bethany, they always have,” he said, shrugging. “When
I told them she and I were together, all they talked about was how
happy they were that they hadn't lost her from the family.”

My
mouth opened, yet nothing came out. He wasn't looking at me anymore.
Nicholas was staring to the side, at our old metal play-set.

Licking
my lips, tasting nothing, I finally found my voice. “When?”
It was a simple word, he knew what I was asking.

Nicholas
looked back at me, the pity in his eyes worse than his insufferable
smugness. “June, when I came down for summer vacation.”


But...
she broke
up
with me
in June...”

His
silence, so poignant, made my insides tighten like someone had
elbowed me with all their strength.
No,
no, impossible.
“You
and her got together right after that? That quickly? Are you—how
could she, and... and you! Nicholas, what the hell?”


Look,”
he said, lifting his palms, trying to appease me so casually. “It
just happened. When I came down, Mom and Dad told me the news about
you guys. I knew you weren't together when I saw her at the firework
display over by the Gerald farm.”

My
eyes hurt from being forced so wide. The most shallow of chuckles
left me; I saw how it made him flinch, breaking his attempt at
emotionless calm. “Oh, well, that's
wonderful
.
I'm glad you knew
before
hand
that she had left me, that really must help you sleep at night.”


Deacon,
relax, you're seriously being dramatic here—”

He
didn't finish speaking; instead, he fell to the ground, knocked over
by my abrupt, hard shove. Something in me had finally snapped,
escaped the pacifist nature of how I had always handled
confrontations.

The
cords in my forearms flexed, every ounce of me fighting to keep from
hitting him again, from doing actual damage.

It
would have been so easy to jump on him, to hit him while he was
vulnerable. It would have been so, so easy... if I just...

Nicholas
was sprawled out, sitting up on his elbows, staring up at me in pure
shock. In seconds, it mirrored my own expression.

What
the hell did I just do? Did I really...

Unbidden,
the image of Owen's crimson stained face entered my mind.

No,
I
thought desperately,
that's
not me. I'm not like that, I won't let anger turn me into a monster.
Yet,
even in my shame, the rage over the situation wouldn't flee. Nicholas
watched me, on the border of being scared, or furious, over my
explosion.

Inside,
I felt a brief flicker of satisfaction. Even that, though, couldn't
sober the hot, twisting guts that refused to let me relax.

It
was like he expected more from me, a word or a sentence to explain
away my actions. To justify what I had never, ever in my years, done
to him before.

No,
I
thought,
you
don't get any answers from me. After all of this, you're not getting
anything at all.

Straightening
up, I turned to go inside the warm, waiting house, saying nothing
else to my fallen brother.

****

The
door slammed behind me, my steps long so I could cover more ground.
In the kitchen, the smell of roast and onions was strong, but I
ignored it.

My
parents were sitting at the table, the surface covered in serving
dishes, as well as containers of hot food. They were both talking
animatedly with Bethany, who was giggling sweetly.

Leah
was there, her chair pushed as far from them as she could get without
being obvious.

All
those eyes lifted, fixing on me as I entered. The cold air had made
me breathe heavier, my chest burning as it adjusted to the warmth.
Even the skin on my ears was tingling.


Where's
your brother?” My dad asked, hinting for the first time that he
suspected something was wrong.

Before
I answered, we heard the front door close again. Foot steps, more
relaxed than mine had been, announced Nicholas seconds before he
appeared in the doorway. “Hey,” he smiled, “did you
guys wait for me? You didn't need to.”


Of
course we waited,” our mother laughed, smiling so pretty.

She
doesn't want to think about what we might have been talking about.
She already knows.

Leah
met my eyes, her brown centers nervous. My neck felt stiff, all of my
muscles tight as I moved to sit beside her. That left one chair
empty, the one on the opposite side of Bethany, beside my mother.

No
one was shocked when Nicholas flopped into it, arching his back with
a groan.


Sore
from the drive?” Bethany asked him. My brother smiled thinly,
casting a long glance at me as he answered.


Yeah,
something like that.”

I
wanted to feel satisfied, but only remorse flooded my system. Being
violent, it wasn't like me. Until that unforgettable day almost a
month ago, I had never hit another person.

Did
fighting Owen change me somehow?

The
idea made my stomach bubble with discomfort.
No,
that can't be true. Nicholas just... he just upset me so much, my
reaction was normal.

Wasn't
it?

My
father touched my hand, pulling me from my brooding. Praying was such
an automatic thing for me, I didn't even think about the motions.

Gripping
his fingers, I moved to hold Leah's palm next. Peering over, the
profile of her face was enough to display her unease. I realized why
when I saw Bethany had taken her other hand. In my hurry to sit, to
be far from my ex, I hadn't considered how Leah would be the one to
endure her touch during the meal prayer.

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