in Evan’s life now. It truly is God’s will that you have each other for comfort and strength. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, in my opinion, rediscovering you. And
please
, try to forgive him, Brennan.”
Brennan looked up, eyes ablaze. He sucked in a rough breath and, trembling, stood up. “I have to go. I have to, um... Where’s Mike’s?”
“Down the road. Three blocks to the south, towards town,” Jimmy told him.
“Thanks,” Brennan whispered, and then he was running—out the door, down the winding driveway.
“That year, when I was fourteen, was the worst year of my
life
,” Brennan spat at Evan.
They were standing together outside, behind Mike’s Garage. Evan was sucking hard on a cigarette, staring off into space.
“I had these panic attacks for no reason,” Brennan continued wildly. “I’d feel really suddenly, really strongly, like something was wrong,
really
wrong and I didn’t understand it. Mom started to drink out of the blue. She drank all the time and was fired from her job. She left me at her friend’s house for a few weeks right when I was feeling the worst and I was so goddamn
mad
at her for that. My stomach hurt and I felt groggy and upset and like I was going crazy. And it was
all your fault
, wasn’t it?! That’s why I felt so sick, why Mom was out of her fucking mind. Charlie must’ve told her what you did. She must’ve visited you in the hospital.”
“No,” Evan muttered, shaking his head, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. “She couldn’t have.”
“Why? You were unconscious! You wouldn’t know.”
“Neither would you,” Evan retorted doubtfully. “You didn’t even know I existed.”
“Maybe part of me did. They say twins have a weird connection to each other sometimes. Maybe that was why I was so freaked out,” Brennan accused.
Evan chewed his lip and held Brennan’s hurt, cutting glare for a fleeting moment. “Look, I’ve gotta get back to work. Can we talk about this later?”
Brennan didn’t say anything and didn’t blink. He folded his arms more tightly over his chest and dug in his heels.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, you ain’t gettin’ one,” Evan told him. He took one last drag from the cigarette before dropping it and crushing it out.
When Brennan still didn’t respond, Evan sighed, walked past him and headed back to the garage. It was a long time before Brennan was able to move. Scared, lost and lonely, he walked away and didn’t bother looking back.
Evan got home around five o’clock that evening. Brennan was in his bedroom. Walking past his doorway, not looking in, Evan went to the darkened living room and sat on the couch. Folding his hands between his knees, he took a deep breath and let the eerie stillness relax him. He heard soft, padding footsteps approach and didn’t look up as Brennan hovered a few feet away.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Evan said when Brennan simply stared at him. He could see that much with his peripheral vision and not much else.
“Why did you let me find out that way?” Brennan asked. His throat sounded like it’d been scraped raw from crying. There was so much hurt there that Evan winced as some of the pain sifted through the air between them, seeping in through the pores in his skin. “That was a really shitty thing to do.”
Evan turned his face away. Restlessly, he rubbed a hand over the back of his skull, hunched forward, then sat up stock-straight. “I don’t talk about it. I don’t talk about it and I’m not gonna talk about it. We were gonna talk about Mom. We....”
He stood, wanting to bolt from the room. Brennan stepped in his path and stared hard into Evan’s eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?!” Evan barked.
He infused the outburst with as much anger and coldness as he could manage, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Brennan wasn’t put-off at all. He actually stepped closer and
please
, try to forgive him, Brennan.”
Brennan looked up, eyes ablaze. He sucked in a rough breath and, trembling, stood up. “I have to go. I have to, um... Where’s Mike’s?”
“Down the road. Three blocks to the south, towards town,” Jimmy told him.
“Thanks,” Brennan whispered, and then he was running—out the door, down the winding driveway.
“That year, when I was fourteen, was the worst year of my
life
,” Brennan spat at Evan.
They were standing together outside, behind Mike’s Garage. Evan was sucking hard on a cigarette, staring off into space.
“I had these panic attacks for no reason,” Brennan continued wildly. “I’d feel really suddenly, really strongly, like something was wrong,
really
wrong and I didn’t understand it. Mom started to drink out of the blue. She drank all the time and was fired from her job. She left me at her friend’s house for a few weeks right when I was feeling the worst and I was so goddamn
mad
at her for that. My stomach hurt and I felt groggy and upset and like I was going crazy. And it was
all your fault
, wasn’t it?! That’s why I felt so sick, why Mom was out of her fucking mind. Charlie must’ve told her what you did. She must’ve visited you in the hospital.”
“No,” Evan muttered, shaking his head, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. “She couldn’t have.”
“Why? You were unconscious! You wouldn’t know.”
“Neither would you,” Evan retorted doubtfully. “You didn’t even know I existed.”
“Maybe part of me did. They say twins have a weird connection to each other sometimes. Maybe that was why I was so freaked out,” Brennan accused.
Evan chewed his lip and held Brennan’s hurt, cutting glare for a fleeting moment. “Look, I’ve gotta get back to work. Can we talk about this later?”
Brennan didn’t say anything and didn’t blink. He folded his arms more tightly over his chest and dug in his heels.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, you ain’t gettin’ one,” Evan told him. He took one last drag from the cigarette before dropping it and crushing it out.
When Brennan still didn’t respond, Evan sighed, walked past him and headed back to the garage. It was a long time before Brennan was able to move. Scared, lost and lonely, he walked away and didn’t bother looking back.
Evan got home around five o’clock that evening. Brennan was in his bedroom. Walking past his doorway, not looking in, Evan went to the darkened living room and sat on the couch. Folding his hands between his knees, he took a deep breath and let the eerie stillness relax him. He heard soft, padding footsteps approach and didn’t look up as Brennan hovered a few feet away.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Evan said when Brennan simply stared at him. He could see that much with his peripheral vision and not much else.
“Why did you let me find out that way?” Brennan asked. His throat sounded like it’d been scraped raw from crying. There was so much hurt there that Evan winced as some of the pain sifted through the air between them, seeping in through the pores in his skin. “That was a really shitty thing to do.”
Evan turned his face away. Restlessly, he rubbed a hand over the back of his skull, hunched forward, then sat up stock-straight. “I don’t talk about it. I don’t talk about it and I’m not gonna talk about it. We were gonna talk about Mom. We....”
He stood, wanting to bolt from the room. Brennan stepped in his path and stared hard into Evan’s eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?!” Evan barked.
He infused the outburst with as much anger and coldness as he could manage, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Brennan wasn’t put-off at all. He actually stepped closer and
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