The Opposite of Me (36 page)

Not this. Please, not this. Bradley was letting me down gently. He was giving me the same speech I’d tried to give him the last time we were on this roof. The twinge in my spine turned into something sharp that reached around and jabbed at my guts. Pain radiated through my entire body.

“Is there someone else?” I asked.

Bradley looked down at his plate. I knew he wouldn’t lie to me; Bradley was too honorable for that.

He lifted his eyes and said, “Yes.” That’s all he said, just that single, shattering word.

Once, when I was about twelve years old, I’d tripped and fallen down while carrying a heavy bowl of spaghetti to the dinner table. My stomach hit the floor first as I held up the spaghetti with both hands, trying to keep the bowl from breaking. The blow was so powerful and unexpected that I couldn’t breathe or speak or move; the wind was knocked completely out of me. That was exactly how I felt now.

I wanted to ask who it was, but I couldn’t. I knew if I opened my mouth again I’d start to cry, and I couldn’t do that. Besides, I knew it was Alex. It was always Alex.

I inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to push it into my lungs.

“You used to be in love with me,” I said. I knew I was making things worse, but I was powerless to stop.

“I did,” he said. His eyes were so kind; they were killing me. “But that was a long time ago.”

“When did you stop?” I asked. My voice was no longer high and squeaky; now it had dropped to the opposite end of the scale. It was a rusty croak, as though it was being forced through a shredder. I knew I’d hate myself for this later, but I couldn’t stop.

“Oh, Lindsey, I had to move on,” he said. “You did, didn’t you?”

I nodded. He was right; it wasn’t fair to expect him to keep pining for me for all these years. It had just been so lovely to imagine he had.

“I guess our timing is a bit off,” I said, pushing away my tears with the backs of my hands. I never used to cry, and now look at me, I thought bitterly: I was turning into Jacob’s old girlfriend, Sue.

I’d wanted to be pretty for Bradley tonight; I’d wanted him to love me. I’d told him everything and let him see the secret bits of me no one knew about. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t want me. He knew everything about me, and he still didn’t love me.

He handed me one of the blue napkins I’d bought to match the color of the irises. I’d tried to anticipate every last detail, but I’d missed one. The only one that mattered: Bradley’s true feelings. How could I have been so wrong, so stupid, so utterly clueless?

“Things are confusing right now,” he said. “For you and for me. I think we should just step back and talk again tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I said, then I gave a bitter laugh. I couldn’t stop. I was like a wrecking ball that had gone mad and was turning back and destroying its own controller.

“It’s my sister, isn’t it?” I said. “Look, she does this to people.
Guys. She makes them fall in love with her. It happens all the time. It doesn’t mean anything to her, you know.”

“Have you talked to Alex lately?” Bradley said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Lindsey, I—” Bradley started to say, then something shrilled. It was his cell phone. He’d taken it out of his pocket and put it on my red-checked tablecloth when we’d sat down.

We both stared down at it. We both knew exactly who it was.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” I asked. I hated the way I sounded, but I couldn’t stop. All the anger and resentment I’d harbored toward Alex for years was bubbling out of me, like a poisonous venom. “She’s
engaged,
you know. Some people consider that a pretty serious commitment, but I guess she doesn’t.”

“Lindsey, have you talked to Alex lately?” Bradley repeated.

I shook my head. What did that matter?

The phone beeped with a new message, and Bradley looked down at it again. I think I would’ve died if he’d picked it up, but he left it lying there.

“We should go,” I said. Suddenly I had to escape from here, from Bradley and the pity and discomfort I saw on his face. I stood up and began repacking the basket, shoving in plates with food still on them. I tossed the water out of the vase and blew out the candles and threw them on top of the plates of food, my movements fast and jerky. Everything would be ruined, but what did that matter? I’d been an idiot to think Bradley would take one look at my pathetic little picnic and sweep me into his arms. Things like that only happened in the movies. They didn’t happen to me.

“Can I carry that for you?” Bradley offered.

I shook my head and started down the ladder. Bradley’s phone rang again.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Answer it.”

“Not now,” Bradley said. He climbed down the ladder after
me and hurried to catch up as I strode across our old school’s lawn. “Look, I know you’re upset.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” he asked.

I want you to hold me, I thought desperately. I want you to tell me you love
me
.

“It’s getting late,” I said, just like he’d said to me that night long ago on this same roof. I tried to smile, but I felt my lips form a grimace. “I should go. Early day tomorrow.”

We climbed into the car, and I started down the road toward Bradley’s house, driving too fast. I’d done everything wrong tonight. I hadn’t rewritten the ending; all I’d done was flip the characters’ lines. How could I have miscalculated so spectacularly?

Would he tell Alex? I wondered, feeling a fresh wave of tears of hurt and rage building behind my eyes at the thought. Would the two of them talk about how sorry they felt for me?

Bradley’s phone chirped; someone had left him a text message. He glanced down at it, and I blinked, hard. He couldn’t even ignore Alex’s message for another ten minutes. That’s how strong her hold on him was.

So what was going to happen next? Was she going to break up with Gary for Bradley, or was this just another flirtation for her? I honestly didn’t know which would be worse: seeing them together as a couple, or watching Bradley’s heart break and knowing that any chance we might’ve had was ruined because Alex had just wanted a bit of fun.

“Lindsey?” Bradley said. He put a hand on my arm. “You need to turn around.”

For a second I was completely bewildered. Turn around? Go back to the school?

“What is it?” I asked. I looked at him. His jaw was tight and his face was pale.

“It’s Alex,” he said. “She’s been in an accident.”

Twenty-two
 

 

“HE CAME OUT OF nowhere,” Alex said.

She was sitting up on a gurney in a private cubicle in the ER, looking like an actress playing the part of an accident victim. Only on Alex would a hospital gown slip so fetchingly off one shoulder. Only Alex would come out of a car crash with her mascara unsmudged. Considering the fact that she’d been cut out of her Lexus by a team of firemen and that the guy in the other car had a shattered thighbone, it bordered on a miracle. Alex’s luck.

“Look, I wasn’t using my cell phone or changing the radio or anything,” Alex was saying as we entered her room. A police officer sat in the corner, taking notes on a little spiral notebook, and a doctor was checking Alex’s blood pressure.

“He said you stopped at the stop sign, then pulled out right in front of him,” the officer said, flipping back a few pages in his notebook.

“I didn’t see him. He must’ve been flying, because he wasn’t there one second, and the next he was slamming into the side of my— Whoa!” Alex gaped at me. “Nice outfit, Sis!” She craned her neck toward me. “Are you wearing
makeup
?”

I’d almost forgotten. Trust Alex to call attention to the only thing that could make me feel worse: a reminder to me and Bradley of just how much effort I’d put into tonight.

“Yeah,” I said flatly, avoiding her questioning eyes. Why did we have to rush here if Alex was fine? And why—this was the question I knew I’d turn over and over in my mind all during the darkest hours of tonight, knowing there couldn’t be any good answer—had Alex called
Bradley
?

I looked down at the floor, but not before I saw Alex glance back and forth from me to Bradley. She didn’t say a word, but she could do the math. It was nighttime, the two of us were together, and I was wearing sexy clothes and makeup. The air was so heavy with unspoken thoughts and dawning realizations that I felt like I was drowning.

“We’d like to do a blood alcohol test,” the doctor said, pulling the Velcro cuff off Alex’s biceps. It was like someone had fired a shot into the room; Bradley, Alex, and I all started.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex asked. “I haven’t had a thing to drink tonight. Well, maybe one glass of wine—
half
a glass; it was really crappy wine—but that’s all. And that was a couple of hours ago.”

“So you don’t have any objections?” the police officer said.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Fine. But you’d better do one on the other driver, too. He was the one who came blasting through that intersection.”

So far Bradley and Alex had barely looked at each other. It was more deliberate and obvious than if Bradley had swept her up for a big kiss. The energy it took them not to acknowledge each other practically electrified the room. I wanted to shrink away to nothing, to disappear and never see either of them again. Or better yet, to make both of
them
disappear.

“There’s something you should know,” Bradley said suddenly. His usually gentle voice was so authoritative that every
one in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.

“She’s been having trouble with her vision for a couple of weeks,” Bradley said.

“
Bradley
,” Alex whispered, like she was pleading with him.

How did he know? The question screamed inside my head. How often had they seen each other over the past few weeks?

Bradley reached over and put his hand on the hospital sheet next to Alex’s hand. That’s when I saw it: Alex’s ring finger was bare. I fumbled for the wall behind me as my vision started to swim. I stared at their hands, suddenly remembering Bradley’s photo in his living room of the entwined hands of a long-married couple.

Please, not this.

“She has to enlarge the font of her emails to read them,” Bradley said. He looked back and gave me an apologetic look. I turned my head away; I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

“I was tired,” Alex said, sounding angry now, almost belligerent. “God, I mean, I’d been going through a hundred emails. That’s all it was. My eyes were tired.”

The doctor pulled a small light out of the breast pocket of her white coat.

“Look up,” she said, aiming the light into Alex’s eyes. “Now left. Right. Into the light.”

She kept the light on Alex’s eyes for another minute. “Do you have any other symptoms?”

“No,” Alex said, at the exact same moment that Bradley said, “Headaches.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have not known what was happening between my own sister and the guy I loved?

“How often?” the doctor said.

“A couple times a week,” Alex said. “It’s stress. I have a lot
going on. Look, I’m not drunk, and I’m not going blind. Go pick on the other guy, okay? This was his fault.”

“I’m going to order an MRI,” the doctor said. “Just as a precaution.”