Page 96 of See My Words

Scott hung up on him with another snort of laughter, and before he could put his phone away, a string of alternating peach and eggplant emojis lit up the screen. Scott texted him back: Still not that kind of friend!!!

Grinning, he stowed his phone back in the zipper pocket of his fleece and took off at a light jog down the trail, taking it easy until his muscles warmed back up. Snow crunched under his feet, his measured breaths puffs of smoke in the cold air. There was no one around except for the occasional hawk soaring overhead, and the sound of rushing water was the perfect accompaniment…no music needed.

Just as he hit his stride, Scott’s phone rang again, but when he registered the ringtone, he stopped immediately and pulled it back out.

“Hey, Garrett!” he puffed.

“Oh, man. I caught you running again, didn’t I?” Garrett’s voice was rueful, and Scott gave a breathless chuckle.

“Yeah, but no worries. I’d rather talk to you than do anything else. What’s up, bud?” He walked in circles as he cooled down once again.

“So I did what you said and asked Amanda if I could walk her home after school yesterday.”

“That’s great,” Scott exclaimed. “You gotta start somewhere, dude. If her parents say she’s too young to date, you gotta respect that, but walking her home means getting to spend a little extra time with her.”

“I know, but oh God, I was so freakin’ nervous and said so many stupid things, Scott,” Garrett moaned. “She probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

Scott laughed. “Pretty girls always make me tongue-tied, too. What happened?”

As Garrett regaled him with his tale of teenage angst, Scott turned to head back to the cabin, enjoying the bright-blue sky and crisp winter air. He took the long way home, detouring off the running trail toward one of his favorite scenic views.

“All you can do is be yourself, Gare,” Scott said. “Girls are smarter than us. They know when we’re trying to bullshit ’em, believe me. Just be nice to her and listen to her, and I mean like really listen—not half-assed listening while you’re staring at her chest, wondering how soft her boobs are.”

“Scott!” Garrett sounded a combination of amused and horrified, and then he sighed. “That part’s hard, because she’s so beautiful, dude.”

“I’m sure she is.”

They spoke for a few more minutes before Garrett said casually, “Jaxon wanted me to ask you about that protein powder again, but I said he should ask you himself. So he might be calling or texting you, okay? Just a heads up.”

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat, somehow managing to keep his voice breezy as he replied, “Great. Thanks for letting me know.”

They said their good-byes and hung up. Scott walked out to a small promontory and sat down, gazing out at the incredible vista of snow-covered red rocks and forest below. The beauty of the place calmed him, as did the low hum of metaphysical energy that seemed to almost shimmer in the air around him…Minh’s “psychic woo-woo.” Even with all that, the same old remorse and anguish started to churn in his gut. Jaxon. His eldest half-brother’s wounds ran deep, and despite Scott reaching out to him time and time again, with apology and sincerity, so far he hadn’t responded, preferring to use Garrett as the middle man instead.

Scott leapt to his feet and headed for home, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts anymore. Once there he took a quick shower before driving to Tlaquepaque and poking his head in Pedro’s sculpting studio, finding him in the back seated in front of his pottery wheel. The rich, earthy smell of the clay tickled his nose, and he gave a loud sneeze. Pedro swiveled his head in his direction.

“Hey, boy. What’s up?” Pedro grinned at him. Scott returned the smile from the doorway, watching as Pedro plopped a brick of unformed clay on the wheel, wetting his hands in preparation for shaping it. Suddenly Pedro’s gaze sharpened, and he grabbed an old towel to dry off before standing up and walking over to Scott.

“What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to say hi before work.”

Pedro gave him a reproving look, tossing his rag onto a table full of bowls waiting to be fired. “I know you better than that. Out with it.”

Scott slumped against the doorjamb. “It’s just—my brother—” He told Pedro about Jaxon going through Garrett again instead of calling Scott directly. “I don’t know what else to do to try and make this right. If I could just talk to him—”

“You’d what?” Pedro’s eyes were steady on his. “Convince him that the way to ‘make this right’ is your way?”

“No! I—”

“Don’t fall into those old mind traps again, son, the ones telling you everything should fit into neat emotional boxes, and if they don’t, you’re a failure.” Pedro took a step closer. “We’ve talked about this, about the possibility that Jaxon finds his peace simply in knowing you’re okay—that you’re safe and happy. Maybe he doesn’t need anything more than that.”

“So what, I just give up on trying to have a relationship with him?”

“Of course not. But you can’t change his perception of events or how he feels about them.” Pedro’s voice was gentle. “It could be he’s found the closure he needs, so don’t try to force him to give you the resolution you’re seeking, boy.”

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, I’m trying. But it hurts, Pedro.”

“I know it does, son. But that’s okay, too.” He put his hands gently on Scott’s shoulders. “Remember, life is like breathing itself. We spiral upward with joy”—he inhaled deeply—“and wind down when we’re in pain.” Pedro blew out a breath, which smelled of the clove cigarettes he favored. “It’s a balance. If you don’t allow yourself to move freely in both directions, if you don’t feel and acknowledge your pain, then how can you recognize true happiness?”