Secret by Brigid Kemmerer
Nick looked at him. It was barely forty-five degrees, so all the tables were deserted. But sitting in the fresh air would help—Gabriel knew that. This was an olive branch.
“It’s not too cold?”
Gabriel dropped into one of the wire chairs in front of the restaurant. “Nah. I’ll hold the table so we don’t have to play the twin game.”
Meaning the thirty-eight thousand questions they encountered when seen in public together. Nick smiled, though it felt uncertain. “All right.”
He waited in line inside the warm bustle of the restaurant, wondering if this was an olive branch, too: Gabriel giving him time to think.
And he needed time to think.
Nerves made him jittery. What if his brother walked away? What if he said he wasn’t okay with it?
Creepy. Freak.
Nick ran a hand through his hair and told himself to calm down.
Maybe he should lead off with Adam. So . . . I’ve met someone. It’s new, and it’s special, but . . . it’s a guy.
Maybe not.
I know you’re worried about Quinn, but we’re not really together. No, not since she caught me kissing a guy.
Ugh. This was horrible.
I’ve been lying to you for years.
Sure.
The line inched along. An older couple came in and got in line behind him.
Nick took another slow breath. Maybe this would be like it had been with Michael. Maybe it would be okay. Awkward at first, but . . . okay.
No, Gabriel was nothing like Michael. Gabriel would have a reaction.
Who do you think the hottest person in the restaurant is? Then Gabriel would pick some girl, and Nick could pick the busboy who looked a little like Adam.
Jesus, he sounded like a frigging moron. These were the best ideas his brain could come up with? No wonder he was failing physics.
Some girls came in, giggling and jostling each other as they moved to the end of the line. He could smell their perfume from here, bubblegum sweet. Nick ignored them, shifting forward one place when the line moved.
But then he caught the tail end of what one girl was saying. “. . . out front look like they’re gonna fight.”
Fight. A word practically synonymous with Gabriel.
Nick turned. The lights inside made it difficult to make out what was going on behind the glass, but he could see his brother’s form. He looked like he was talking to someone.
Then Nick saw the shove, hard enough to make the other person fall back.
Nick swore and gave up his place in line. Had Tyler followed them here somehow?
But then he got close enough to the glass storefront to make out Gabriel’s opponent.
Adam.
Nick’s heart tripped and stalled in his chest. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. He couldn’t remember how to move.
How had this happened?
Adam had his hands up. He looked agitated, but he didn’t want to fight.
Gabriel shoved him anyway. Adam fell back another step.
That forced Nick’s feet into motion. He needed to stop this. Now.
Cold air hit him in the face, carrying Gabriel’s voice, low and angry. “What the fuck do you mean, you’re sorry about last night? What are you doing to my brother?”
“Stop!” Nick said. Neither paid attention to him.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” said Adam, his voice careful.
Gabriel shoved him again, harder. “A misunderstanding?”
Adam fell back, but he kept his hands up. “Yeah.” Now his voice was edged with anger. “Just calm down.”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Gabriel shoved him again.
Adam gave up the surrender position and shoved him back.
Gabriel drew back an arm to hit him.
Nick didn’t even remember moving. He had a hold of Gabriel’s arm and he was driving him back, until his twin hit the cinder block wall of the shopping center.
“Don’t you touch him,” he said fiercely. He might have been yelling. He gave Gabriel a shove against the wall for good measure. “You hear me? You keep your hands off him.”
Gabriel’s eyes were wide. Their breathing was loud, putting twin puffs of steam between them. Time seemed to hold still.
Nick kept seeing Gabriel’s fist drawn back, ready to smash into Adam’s jaw. Nick wanted to slam him into the wall again.
For the first time in his life, he wouldn’t back down from his brother for anything.
Gabriel’s eyes went from Nick to Adam and back.
Then he coiled all his strength to throw Nick off.
Nick had leverage—and while he couldn’t fight like Gabriel, he was every bit as strong. He slammed him back into the wall. Harder this time. Gabriel’s head hit the cinder block.
“Hey. Hey.” Adam put a hand on Nick’s arm. “Take it easy,” he said quietly. “Let him go. It’s a misunderstanding.”
Nick looked across into his brother’s eyes. He saw the exact moment when Gabriel put two and two together.
And Nick waited for his brother to swallow the aggression, to be decent, to take this horrible moment and make everything okay.
But Gabriel’s expression turned dark and furious. “So is this part of your big secret, Nicky?”
If he’d just said the words, Nick wouldn’t have cared.
But Gabriel said it in a high-pitched mocking lisp.
Nick couldn’t see through the rage. He lifted a fist to swing.
And that was all Gabriel needed. He twisted free of Nick’s grip and ducked under the flying fist.
Nick’s hand cracked into the cinder block wall.
Then Gabriel’s hand cracked into his face.
For the second time in one night, Nick went down.
And suddenly, they had a crowd. An older man was in front of Gabriel, blocking him, his hands up. “Take a walk, son. Take a walk. Cool off.”
Nick saw stars and tasted blood. He couldn’t feel his fingers yet. He started to get to his feet, but Adam grabbed his arm and held him there.
“Don’t get up,” he said. “Let him walk away.”
Gabriel watched this, clear derision in his expression. “You don’t have to hold him,” he snapped. “Nick will stay down.”
“Walk,” ordered the older man. “Or we’re calling the cops.” He paused. “Now.”
For an instant, Nick thought Gabriel would shove past the guy. The air held so much violent potential.
But then his twin brother turned and walked away. No parting words, no final epithets. Just measured steps along the sidewalk, across the stretch of road, before giving way to a car door slamming.
And then the rumble of an engine. He was leaving.
Nick was distantly aware that his breath was shaking. And now he could feel pain roaring into his fingers. Not to mention his face.
What just happened?
Adam was pulling at his arm now, gently. “Come on. Can you stand?”
He could stand. They tried to get him to go back in the restaurant, but Nick didn’t want all those eyes on him.
But Adam insisted on sitting down, so Nick dropped into one of the metal chairs out front, the one closest to the shadows of the next storefront.
The man who’d gotten in front of Gabriel turned out to be the café owner. He brought them each a cup of coffee and a bag of ice for Nick.
Nick was shocked this guy wasn’t calling the cops anyway. Nick had been the one to shove Gabriel into the wall.
“I’m sorry for disrupting your night,” Adam said to him.
“You didn’t do anything,” the man said. “The girls inside said that other boy started it.” He tsked. “Shame there are still such closed-minded people picking fights about this kind of thing. You’re lucky your . . . friend was here to stop him.”
“I know I am,” said Adam.
“You sure you boys won’t come inside? I’m worried he’ll come back.”
Had the man not noticed they were twi
Nick cleared his throat. “He’s my brother. He won’t come back.”
Those words hung in the air for a moment.
“We’ll be all right,” said Adam.
And then they were alone.
Nick hadn’t touched the ice, but Adam sat in the opposite metal chair and reached for it. Then he put the bag against Nick’s face.
And Nick was struck with an entirely different sort of déjà vu. A different night, a different fight, but Adam’s hand holding an ice bag just like this.
Back then, Nick had leapt out of his chair to kiss him. Now, he wasn’t sure what to do. About any of it.
“Would you rather put this on your hand?” Adam said.
Nick tried to categorize his injuries and came up with nothing. He couldn’t think past his brother’s angry eyes and the fight and the way he’d walked off.
And what he’d said.
It hurt. It hurt more than anything physical.
Nick swallowed and shook his head.
They sat there for the longest time in the darkness, breathing the same air. The pain began to fade from Nick’s hand as his element worked its magic.
Nick almost wished it wouldn’t. This he wanted to remember for a while.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” Adam looked chagrined. “And I shouldn’t have shoved him. But he kept pushing me, and there’s only so much of that big-dumb-straight-boy crap that I can put up with. Especially since . . . you know.”
Nick did know. And if Gabriel had hurt Adam . . . Nick wasn’t sure what he would have done.
But he’d felt a glimmer of it when he was slamming Gabriel into that wall.
He pulled the ice bag away from his face and set it on the table. “I’m sorry that he—that he—”
“It’s not your fault.” Adam touched his cheek, and his hand was warm. Nick shut his eyes and leaned into the contact. He felt the pain, but it was worth it.
He opened his eyes. “Then I’m sorry for what I did. Last night.”
Adam nodded and withdrew his hand, reaching for the ice pack again. “I am, too.” He glanced up, and the slightest bit of rueful humor slid into his voice. “In fact, I was trying to apologize to you fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t realize that when you said identical twin, you weren’t kidding about the identical part.”
Nick frowned. “Only on the outside.” Then he remembered the whole reason for the apology, and he looked away, ashamed. “Usually.”
“No, what you did was nothing like what he did.” Adam caught his eye and held it. “Don’t get me wrong. What you did was not okay.”
“I know.”
“I know you know. That’s why I’m sitting here.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
Adam picked up Nick’s hand and held the ice against his knuckles. He looked sheepish. “I didn’t. I came here to avoid you. I figured you usually go to the Starbucks down the road.” He paused, then rubbed at the back of his neck. “I needed to grab a cup of coffee on the way to my parents’, because I told them I’d stop by tonight. Then I saw you—well, your brother—sitting there, and I . . . ah, well, I couldn’t go another minute without talking to you.”
Nick studied him. The lighting was dim, but . . . “You’re blushing!”
Adam looked away. “Yeah, yeah.”
“But you wouldn’t respond to my texts!”
“Well, I couldn’t let you think you got off that easy.”
“Oh, I get it. So you’ve been torturing me.” But Nick smiled.
“Absolutely. And torturing myself at the same time.” Adam slid his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture.
“Oh, good,” said Nick. “This is a moment I want a record of.”
“You don’t smile enough. That makes them meaningful.” He paused, then turned the phone around so Nick could see. His voice lost any humor. “I should send this to your brother.”
Nick glanced at it. A bruise was already forming on his cheek, more obvious because of the flash in the darkness.
He reached out and pushed the button to make the phone go dark. Gabriel’s mocking voice was a never-ending echo in his head; he didn’t need to see the evidence of physical aggression on top of it. Such a contrast to that moment in the car, when Nick had realized how badly he wanted to share this with his brother.
Or that moment in the woods. Gabriel’s voice, tight with panic. Come on, Nicky. Please. You’re scaring me.
Or the thousand moments before that. A lifetime of memories with his twin brother, undone in an instant.
You don’t have to hold him. Nick will stay down.
“Okay,” said Adam softly. “Okay. Come on.”
It was only then that Nick realized his breath was shaking and his eyes had filled. Adam’s fingers wrapped around his good hand and tugged. Nick allowed himself to be led.
When he was sure his voice wouldn’t break, he said, “Where are we going?”
“Bus stop. My place?”
Nick nodded. He certainly couldn’t go home.
If he was being strictly honest with himself, he was afraid to go home.
God, he was such a wuss.
But when they were on the near-empty bus, sharing a bench at the back of the vehicle, Adam leaned into him and spoke quietly. “When you pushed him away from me—that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Nick scoffed, but Adam put a finger over his lips. “It was. For me, it was. Take it or leave it.”
Nick took it.
CHAPTER 26
Quinn hadn’t told Becca everything.
She’d left out Nick’s secret.
She’d left out Tyler.
She’d left out the trophy and the bruise and the fire on the beach.
But she’d cried and talked about how much she missed her best friend, about how much it hurt when Becca treated her like she was overdramatic, how she needed to figure out how to trust her again.
How much Quinn needed Becca to be there when she was ready to tell her everything.
She’d expected Becca to brush her off. If she was being strictly honest with herself, she’d expected Becca to sigh and huff and start talking about Chris.
But Becca had cried with her and told her how much she missed her, too, and Quinn realized that some of her worries about her best friend were exaggerations she’d created in her mind.
Another example of pushing someone away before they had the opportunity to help her.
Becca had begged her to come stay with her, but Quinn had refused. She needed more time to untangle the snarled mess of her thoughts. To decide how much trust she was willing to share.
Now, Quinn was ready for Tyler to come home with Chinese food, to sit across from him and have a real conversation.
She’d mocked him about honor, but really, he’d been incredibly honorable toward her. He’d never lied. He’d never taken her up on her offer to “repay” him.
She was ready to stop pushing him away.
Nick, too. Quinn reassessed the way she’d treated him. He’d been trying to protect her from Tyler, and she’d all but told him to fuck off.
Not all but. She had. She still had the text in her phone history.
She’d pushed Adam away, too, that night she’d blown him off, the night she’d jumped on a bus and texted Tyler.
When she really thought about it, she had a lot of people looking out for her, and she’d treated them all like crap.
Then Tyler strolled through the door looking like he’d been in a fight. His jacket was filthy, his jeans looking somewhat charred around the seams. He dropped a leaking bag of Chinese food on the table.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said flatly. “The place was packed. I had to wait.”
Quinn stared at him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Your boyfriend happened,” he said flat
Nick needed to call home.
He didn’t want to, but if he didn’t show up, Michael would worry.
He sat on the end of Adam’s bed, staring at Adam’s cell phone, while his host banged around in the kitchen, making something he claimed would be better than coffee.
Nick almost hoped it would be something better than hard liquor, because he wouldn’t mind turning off his thoughts for a while.
It was close to ten. He only knew two numbers by heart: the house phone and Gabriel’s cell.
No contest.
The house phone rang four times. With each ring, Nick’s heart staggered as he prepared for Gabriel to pick up.
Fate smiled on him this time. Chris answered.
“It’s me,” said Nick. “Is Mike around?”
“He’s out with Hannah.” Chris hesitated. “Where are you calling from? Are you okay?”
“Did Gabriel get home yet?”
“No, why? Where are you?”
Nick absolutely hated that his twin brother had been such a dick, but he still felt a flicker of worry about where Gabriel had gone—or what he was doing. “Look—Chris, it’s nothing. Can you tell Michael something for me?”
“Sure. Whatever you need.” Chris hesitated. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
No. Nick rubbed at his eyes. He wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep for a month. “Will you tell him—” Tell him what? That his twin brother had broken his heart? That he couldn’t come home for . . . ever? Nick cleared his throat. “Tell him I’m spending the night with a friend. I accidentally left my phone in the car.”
Another pause. A weighted one. Chris’s voice was low. “Would this friend be Adam?”
Nick froze.
Chris continued, “That’s who sent you the text message at school, right?”
At lunch. When he’d flipped out.
“Yeah.” Nick swallowed. He couldn’t read his brother’s voice, and after the fight with Gabriel, this uncertainty left him on edge.
Chris was silent for a moment, and Nick could imagine him standing there, choosing his words carefully.
Nick couldn’t handle the silence. “Say something, Chris,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You’ve obviously figured it out. So say what you want to say.”