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Chapter 38
Kai
“Get up,” I said, ripping the blankets off of Jonah. He rolled and moaned, attempting to cover his eyes with a bent arm. “Get up!” His body remained a twisted, unconscious heap on his bed. “You piece of shit!”
Two hours. We stayed at the party for two more hours after finding out he’d left, and the disappearing asshole already downed a bottle of whiskey and dozed off like some kind of depressed musician. Well, actually… Perhaps it was fitting, then. But I still didn’t fucking like it. What a fucking drama queen.
“Jonah!” I shoved his shoulder.
Finally, he jerked awake, opening his eyes before quickly recoiling back behind his lifted hand. That same hand then fell to the glass on his nightstand. He finished the swig of whiskey left over, holding it in his mouth to wash down a bad taste.
“Get up.” I snatched the bottle from his nightstand to prevent him from pouring any more. Not that there was much left to pour anyway. His hand extended to me, but I stayed out of reach. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jonah? Get your stupid ass out of bed.”
“Oh, how original,” he mumbled rudely, finally coming to and pushing himself up to a seated position. “A lovely wake up call, complete with insults and all.”
“You,” I said, gripping the bottle by its neck as my words vibrated through pressed teeth, “still have some major issues to work on.”
“Kai, wh—”
“You loved me this whole time, Jonah?! You’ve kept that from me for over a fucking decade, are you serious?” I was officially raging, not only for his disappearing act—from the party and on the alcohol in this bottle—but as a means to cover up the mix of emotions swelling inside me as well.
He threw himself out of bed, eyes gaping as he attempted to stand, but he sat back down and rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head. “No,” he whispered under his breath.
“Talk to me. We’re not hiding from this anymore, Jonah, talk to me!”
He began breathing erratically, ripping the collar of his shirt up to hide his face. I watched him sit there for a few seconds that felt far too long before he stood, tore his hands away from his face, and yelled at me. For the first time in our lives, he truly fucking yelled at me. “You never saw me, Kai! Twelve years! You never fucking saw me!”
“How was I supposed to know? You never told me!”
“I shouldn’t have had to tell you!”
“That’s not fair! That’s not fucking fair. I didn’t know. I wasn’t ready!”
“I know!” He heaved, taking a moment to breathe, his gaze softening as it sucked me in. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “And you never thought to ask me about it? Never thought to fucking say something?”
“That’s not fair.”
“It is!” I put the bottle down on his desk so I could flail my arms more easily. “You never thought to say something, not even in the last few weeks? I can understand not wanting to admit it when we were kids, Jonah, and I appreciate that because I would have flipped. But you didn’t think, even once in the last few days, that it might have been worth it to say something?”
He stared at me blankly. “No.”
I swung my hand out to the side. “Great. That’s great, Jonah. Maybe I dodged a fucking bullet, then.”
“Dodged a bul—”
“Yes, dodged a bullet!” I lowered my voice to mock his manly tone. “I’m Jonah, I own two shirts, shutting down hurts a lot but at least it’s better than failing! Biggest chance I ever took was cutting my fucking hair!”
I would have said anything. Any fucking thing to fill up the air, to expel my emotions into the world around me instead of keeping them in while I listened to Jonah spew any more bullshit.
“Oh, and I’m Kai!” He bent his elbows up to let his hands flop over femininely. “I play childish games for fun and push my best friend into oblivion because I don’t like it when he gets quiet!”
I put my hands on my hips and widened my legs to a cowboy-like stance. Never in my life had I seen Jonah stand in such a way. It just seemed masculine. “I live my life making assumptions and treating everyone like shit because I never learned how to cope!”
He skipped around me in a circle, flapping his hands like little wings as he went. “Being pretty is a personality trait, right? Or was I supposed to do more?”
I stomped my foot. “Stop! I don’t want to have stupid arguments anymore! This is already out of your hands, so stop fucking around and talk to me!”
