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“Almost ten years ago. She would have been twenty-eight this year.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s not something my family talks about. It isn’t becoming of the Millers to discuss their failings.” His expression tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. I was only eight at the time, her annoying little brother. But she was my idol. I loved her so fucking much and one day, she was… gone.”
“H-how did it happen?”
“Overdose. She went through some stuff in junior year and never recovered.”
“What was her name?”
“Penny. Even now, after all this time, I still hear her yelling at me for going into her room without permission or for stealing the last bagel. Man, she loved a cream cheese bagel.”
Silence hung between us. Thick and heavy with the pain of our pasts. I got it now—the strange affinity between us. Nate recognized the darkness living inside me and it called to me in kind. Our souls were the same. Dark. Damaged. Tainted.
“Have you ever—”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “I’m a suffer-in-silence type of guy, but I’m not looking to permanently check out of life. What about you? Are you—”
“I know what you’re doing.” My voice cracked.
“Yeah? What am I doing?”
“Trying to reverse-psychology me into opening up about what happened.”
“Is it working?”
“Not yet.” A faint smile tugged at my mouth.
“Fair enough. I want you to know that I’m here, and I get it. Talk to me, don’t talk to me, that’s your prerogative, but I offer a non-judgmental safe space to talk.”
“Thank you.”
“I also offer some premium grade weed and witty conversation. In case you need persuading.”
“You know, Celeste was right about you.”
“Yeah?” His eyes twinkled.
“Yeah, you’re not all bad, Miller. You’re not all bad, at all.”
“Likewise, Maguire.” We shared a tentative smile. “Likewise.”
“You two looked cozy earlier,” Celeste said, nudging my shoulder as we ate our slices of pizza.
After spending the day out by the pool, we’d come down to the den to watch a film. The guys were busy arguing over the upcoming football season while we gorged ourselves on the copious amounts of food they’d ordered.
“It isn’t like that between us.”
“No… but could it be?”
Nate glanced up as if he felt us watching him. I smiled and he returned it with a blinding smile of his own. But there was no flutter of butterflies or tingles under my skin. Nothing except the comforting reassurance of having someone who got it. Who understood what it was like to be in my shoes.
“I don’t think so.”
