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“I didn’t know Mr. Stiles teaches business management,” Kal says, and this perks my ears up. I respond, attempting to hide my enthusiasm.
“Oh, is that an extra class?”
“Yeah, by the looks of it, not much information on here, though.”
“Quake doesn’t like him. Next one?” Trays says.
I stop and turn. “I didn’t say that.”
“You gave the impression you didn’t like him,” Tray mentions.
Kal agrees, “Yeah, let’s forget about Mr. Stiles and try a different teacher.”
“I think it’s Kal who doesn’t like him.” Kal does act standoffish toward Mr. Stiles and it has caught my attention once or twice, as it is unlike Kal. Kal simply shrugs and goes back to his phone. Opening the doors, I make a turn and abruptly stop when I come face-to-face with my twin brother. His foot against the wall and a cigarette in his mouth. This isn’t what I need right now. I turn to Kal and Tray. “I’ll meet you at the gym.” Kal nods in agreement, acknowledging Bexley, while Tray stands rigidly, fists clenched and jaw tight. I peer back at Bex, and he is staring at Tray. There’s a softness in his eyes, as if he’s on the verge of saying something but unsure.
A moment later, he says, “Tray.” I hear movement and glance back to see Tray turning around and leaving. What the fuck wenton between them? As I turn around, Bex takes a long pull and flicks the cigarette.
A guilty smile forms on his lips as he says, “Bro.”
“I’ve had a shit day and I’m tired, Bex. What’s up? I don’t need it to be any worse.”
“I wanted to say sorry,” his head dips, kicking at gravel on the floor.
“Sorry like the thousands of other times?” I respond, putting my hands in my pocket.
“Bray, I really am so—”
“No.” I raise my hand. “I’m done with your sorrys, Bexley. All I wanted was one night, only one goddamn night, and you couldn’t even give me that. One night with my brother.”
I take my hands out of my pockets and run them through my hair, gripping the strands while Bexley’s eyes grow heavy, observing my distressed state. “Seriously, Bex, we’re nineteen. When have we ever gone to the bar together and just had a drink? When do we ever spend quality time as twins? It would have been nice if you had at least contacted me to say you couldn’t make it, but you didn’t answer my calls or texts. Fuck, even Kal and Tray thought you were coming.” With a mixture of guilt and empathy in his eyes, he flickers his gaze between mine, his brows furrowing.
“I put everything into you, Bex, every single part of me. I gave, and I gave and gave time and time again and I never expect anything in return, but for once I just wanted this one thing. I reached out to you every day. Day after day, I waited with my door open, praying for you to come back to me.” My hands fall and hit my thighs with a smack.
“I love you, Bex. I’ll always fucking love you, but I’m done breaking myself for you. I’m completely drained from obsessing over where you are and what you’re up to. You’re fucking up mylife and drowning me from the inside. I have nothing left to give Bex. I can’t do it anymore. I need to close the door.”
Bexley frowns and avoids eye contact, chewing on his bottom lip and tilting his head. He keeps flicking the lighter in his hand over and over.
“Bu—but what about BB for life? Brayden and Bexley?” His eyes are glassy as they stare back at me. It’s hard for me to admit, but I need some time alone to clear my thoughts.
“BB hasn’t existed for a long time, Bex. When you chose drugs over me, that’s when it all ended. It stopped when we were twelve.”
I turn and walk away, unable to face him again. The feeling of tightness in my chest comes back and my vision blurs. Following my therapist’s advice, I close my eyes and take controlled deep breaths. The sensation of pins and needles moves up my legs while I’m still walking, making it more difficult for me to continue.
I switch from walking to jogging as I hurry to reach the gym, confident that once I arrive, I can release all my worries and clear my mind of Bexley.
Chapter eighteen
Bohdi
Despite my temptation to drink the bottle at my desk earlier, I chose not to because of my afternoon classes. I hate relying on alcohol to take the edge off and I’m more than aware that it’s wrong, but it’s the only thing that helps. I can’t win. When I consume an excessive amount of alcohol, I find myself consumed by darkness and haunted by thoughts of Jace, but when I abstain completely, it becomes suffocating. I often believe my drinking isn’t excessive enough to be considered a problem, but if I’m drinking to alleviate stress, isn’t that problematic on its own?
I’m relieved that my day is done, I can go home and indulge in more glasses of my favorite evil juice. I notice my eyes wandering toward the chair Brayden usually occupies. There’s a part of my mind that longs for his presence, staring at me with the same expression from earlier. Another part of me is screaming to let go and stop fixating on him altogether.
I can’t though and as much as I need to, I don’t want to.
Without even realizing it, my phone is in my hand again and the Instagram app is open. Instead of feeling anxious, Brayden’s face unexpectedly brings a sense of calm over me.
Once again, I see the red-orange circle around his picture, but I pause before clicking on it.
