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But it was wrong.
I know that, deep down.
And I’m ashamed of myself.
* * *
My head is still splitting when I get out of the ice-cold shower and go to my room for a fresh T-shirt. As I walk through the door, I see something that wasn’t there last night: a folded square of paper on my pillow with my name written across the front.
I sit on the edge of my bed and unfold the note.
Dear Jack,
I hope you won’t be too disappointed when you find this letter. But it’s time for me to go back home. Perhaps it’s better that we part ways without saying goodbye. This way, I can remember our last happy memory together: dancing to Bryan Adams on top of that yacht you shined up for me.
I want to thank you for showing me the world and giving me so many wonderful memories. You’ve been such a good friend to me. Ever since that night I first talked to you on the phone, I felt like you knew my soul. You understood my feelings in a way no one else ever has. I treasure your friendship, Jack. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I need to be honest with you.
Adam is the only man I could ever love. I think you already knew that deep down inside. I tried to tell you a few days ago, but you wouldn’t listen. I know you didn’t want to hear it then, and you probably don’t want to hear it now. But it wouldn’t be fair if I let you believe a lie.
The world is waiting for you, Jack Stevenson. Go see those mountains, those deserts. I know you’ll find yourself somewhere along the way. And someday, you’ll meet someone and fall in love with her, and she’ll fall in love with you, and she will never, ever let you go.
Thank you for giving me the world and making my dreams come true.
I’ll never forget you, Superman.
Your affectionate friend,
Orca
I press my eyes shut, but it’s too late—hot tears fall onto the page, smudging her words. God, it hurts. Part of me wants to crunch up the letter and throw it away. But it’s impossible to be angry at Orca for telling the truth.
I’m not angry at her.
I’m angry at myself.
All I can think about is the way she looked after I fought with Adam. The shock and heartbreak twisted on her face. I thought you were better than this, Jack.
So much for her last memory of me being a good one.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe deep down, I always knew she loved Adam.
Maybe that’s why I was so desperate to make her fall for me. Because I didn’t want to lose to my brother.
Maybe that’s all Orca and I ever were—affectionate friends.
* * *
I show up late for work, but at least this time, I have a good excuse. I find Dad in the marina office, sitting behind the cluttered desk, talking on the phone with someone. As soon as I walk through the door, he says, “He just got here. I’ll call you later.” And he hangs up.
Of course, Mom would call Dad and tell him everything that happened. Of course, she would pass him the baton on this whole shitshow—the baton to beat me with, that is.
I stand in the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest, waiting to be read the riot act. But Dad only nods toward my split lip.
“Did Adam give you that?”
“Yeah,” I say, yanking my shirt up to reveal my bruised abs. “And this.”
