Текст книги "Rock"

Автор книги: Anyta Sunday

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Annie joins in but the music stops when Dad clears his throat.

Lila slips her hand into Dad’s, barely containing her smile.

“We have some news.”

Jace clutches the edge of his piano stool so hard his knuckles go white.

“Good news,” Lila says and bites her lip. “Doctors say I’m good.”

Jace leaps off his chair. “You’re good?” He hugs her before I can comprehend what she’s said.

Tears rim her eyes, and that smile finally breaks loose. “I’m good!”

Later in the evening, after the festivities, I find Jace in his room clutching an unopened brown

envelope.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. Just something for university.”

He hides it in his desk drawer.

I sit on the edge of his desk.

“Where are you going for university?” I ask. We’ve avoided the topic for months, but now that Jace

has graduated, we can’t hide from it any longer.

I hold still.

“I . . .” He looks down at the rip in my jeans. “In some ways I want to stay in Wellington and go to

Vic.”

“In some ways?” His words make me shiver.

He closes his eyes. “But I applied to Otago last week and got accepted.”

I cannot make a coherent thought. “Dunedin?”

He nods.

“Your mum and dad know?”

“I told them to keep it quiet.” He opens his eyes. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

“So it’s six weeks and goodbye?”

“We can talk on the phone. I’ll be back for winter holidays and Christmas.”

Only twice a year?

I exhale slowly. My belly feels hollow, and I want to throw up.

I leave his room and hurry outside. The path jars my every step thanks to the thin sandals I shoved

on. Jace shouts from our balcony. I want to ignore him but I traipse over the moat toward him, cutting

an angle to the side of the house. “I’m sorry,” he says, leaning over the rail.

I shrug. I need to get out of here. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, can I borrow your car?”

Jace leaves and returns with his keys, which he stuffs into an envelope and seals with a swipe of his

tongue before handing to me.

I don’t open it until I’m at his car. Leaning against the roof, I pull out his keys, and then the note.

Forgive me.

I’ll miss you. Stay strong.

Sorry it’s not an opal.

I tip the envelope upside down, and a small stone tinkers onto the top of the car. Not much bigger

than my thumbnail, a teardrop of matted red and black ironstone.

I clutch it tightly before carefully sealing it into the envelope and slipping it into my pocket. I hop

into the hatchback, and drive.

And drive.

And drive.

garnet

Dad and Lila left for a long weekend getaway to a beautiful beach in Brisbane. After the year

they’ve had, they deserve the break.

I convinced Annie to stay at Mum’s for the four days. Quality time, I said, to do girly nights and

female fraternizing.

The truth is, Jace and I want the weekend alone.

Time is winding down. After this weekend, we only get one week to live together. We’re on the

precipice of change, and we want to spend the last moments together, pretending we’re not going to fall.

We get up early to hike the town.

On the last stretch to Oriental Bay, I find a flawed fragment of garnet and run its sharp side along

the pad of my thumb.

“Let’s have a look,” Jace says, stealing it from me and holding the red stone up toward the light.

“Fool’s ruby?”

“Garnet.”

He throws it toward the paua-blue sky that is streaked with long, wispy clouds, and it tumbles back

down to him like a bloody raindrop. “And?” he says, catching it, a stupid little grin quirking his lip.

“Surely you know more than that?”

I knock into his side as he throws it up again. I miraculously catch it as Jace stumbles, spraying

sand in arcs toward the frothy tide.

“It’s a stone of truth,” I say to my fallen friend, extending an arm. He’s laughing as he takes it.

“Really?”

“It helps release it.” We make our way up the boulevard toward the café where Annie works.

“Sometimes the information learned is painful but the garnet ensures that those truths are what the

seeker needs to know.” Jace stops walking and I turn back to him. The curious frown etched between his

brows is the same single line that Annie has when she’s unsure and a touch uncomfortable. “You all

right?”

Jace folds his arms over his cassette-tape T-shirt, and I wait for him to speak. He stares at my hand

encasing the garnet. “If you don’t learn a truth, does that mean you don’t really need it?”

I throw him the stone and he’s quick to catch it. “I don’t know.” He catches up to my side and we

continue to the café. Garnet also increases sexual intimacy.

With a sneaky smile, Annie serves us extra mini-muffins with Jace’s coffee and my tea.

“How’s quality time with Jace going?” she asks when Jace goes to the bathroom. “He’s really

turned out to be more than a brother hasn’t he?”

I freeze and set down my tea before I spill it. “Wh—what?”

“I mean, you guys are like best friends. I’m sorry you’re breaking up.” She winks. What does that

mean? “But it’s only for a year, right? Then you can study down there with him.”

Across the café, Jace is rounding tables, heading back to us. He winks, and everyone including my

sister disappears.

I’m already planning to move to Dunedin. Just so I can be with you.

“So I was thinking,” Jace says, sitting back down and watching Annie leave to serve another table,

“after this, maybe we could shop for some music? I’d love to get my hands on a few more

compositions.”

I sip my tea with a shaky hand. “Yes. Of course.”

* * *

After the music store, I take us out to dinner at a restaurant on the boat where we ate for his

seventeenth birthday. I secretly hope it will rekindle Jace’s memories of the cave that day, when I gave

him the hook.

I’ll never take it off.

We sit by the window overlooking the ocean. Jace touches the hook as if he knows what I’m

thinking about, a fond smile playing at his lips.

Still wearing it.

A waiter lights the tea candles between us. Jace and I blush, shift uncomfortably, and stare out the

window, which partially reflects our faces.

I wait a beat before I glance at his image. My heart jumps when I find he’s looking at mine, and

we’re thirteen and fourteen again, standing at the bus stop, peeking at each other over our books . . .

Are we nearing the end of our duel?

My mood crashes and I spend the rest of the dinner paying too much attention to my seafood

ravioli.

When we arrive home, I yawn even though I’m not tired. “I’m going to crash.”

Jace frowns and stops me on the stairs. “It’s only ten.” He places one hand next to mine on the

banister, and he tugs my fingers with his other hand. “Something’s up.”

“No. I’m fine.” Sad. So fucking sad.

“Let me play you a new piece before you go to bed?”

I swallow. Nod.

In the gaming room, he perches himself on the piano stool. A single lamp offers just enough light

for him to read his music.

I lean against the wall. Music beats against my skin and speeds up my pulse. Jace is completely

focused on the music, an endearing frown etched between his eyebrows. When he finishes, he stares at

the keys and smiles.

“Not bad,” I say.

“Not bad?” He shakes his head. “I’ve never played that before. It was bloody perfect.”

A trace of the grin I’d lost reappears. “Play something else. Sing.”

“Sing?”

“I like it when you sing. You’ve got a good voice.”

“What do you want me to play? I can do a couple of U2 covers.”

“U2?”

“Mum’s favorite. I learned a few when she was sick.”

I move to the stool and sit next to him facing away from the piano, giving him just enough space to

play. “Okay,” I say. “Play one for me.”

His Adam’s apple juts out in a hard swallow, and his gaze sweeps over my face. “For you,” he says

slowly. A slight tremor passes through me.

He focuses on the keys, running his fingertips over them.

Then he starts.

I want to cry, want to laugh, want to curse him for making every hope swell to a breaking point. I

know this song—Lila and my mum love it.

Now I love it.

When he sings the word diamonds, he smiles at me.

All I Want Is You.

I can’t look at him, but I can’t pull away. I silently beg for him to stop, but I wish he’d go on

forever.

He remembers what you said to him that night. He never forgot.

I try to keep my tears back but they seep through my eyelashes.

Jace says diamonds again and his voice breaks. He stops playing. “Cooper?”

My voice is hoarse. “Yeah?”

He looks up, touches my cheeks. “Cooper—”

He kisses me.

His lips scrape over mine like a whisper. I freeze for three quick beats of my heart, and then we’re

frenzied. Fast, urgent, needy. He brings one hand to my neck while his other hand caresses my arm. His

tongue meets mine like a drowning man fighting for oxygen. He tastes like the caramelized sugar on the

crème brûlée we ate at dinner. His kisses leave my mouth and find my jaw, my neck, and—

My hands have found their way under Jace’s T-shirt. His skin is hot, the planes of his back smooth

and hard.

I want to explore more but the damn stool is making it difficult. As if reading my mind, Jace stands,

pulling me up too. He steers me around it, leans on the piano so the higher notes clunk, and draws me

fully against him. No inch between us. No question of where this is going.

He kisses me again, and breathes me in. My lips tingle as the air moves. His blue gaze is heavy as if

he’s probing me deeply. We are kissing again, his hands pulling at my T-shirt. I move back an inch to

take it off and remove his.

I run my tongue down his neck and nibble at his collarbone before sinking to tease his nipple. He

arches and a satisfying moan slips from him, stirring me to taste every inch of him.

I’m harder than I’ve ever been, and each time our groins mesh, he pumps me with desire. Need.

More.

Now!

I fumble to undo the buttons at his fly. Jace’s breath hitches as I cup him through his boxers, and he

nips my ear and works my jeans. Our pants shimmy to our knees, followed by our boxers. Jace kisses

me again and I take hold of his cock like in my fantasies. His groan vibrates over my lip. The piano

keys tinkle as he pulls me closer and takes my cock.

Look at me!

This time he does, and he pumps slowly, like he wants this to last forever. He licks his lips, then

releases me and gently removes my hand off him. Our cocks touch and I press closer to rut against him

as our fingers entwine.

The piano keys produce a cacophonous sound that mingles with our moans and heavy breaths. We

ride the wave drawing us closer and closer—

“Cooper,” he moans in my ear.

I cry out, orgasm shuddering through me, and a few seconds later Jace releases too.

“I . . . I . . .” Jace throws his head back as he catches his breath, and when he look at me again, his

expression unnerves me. “Jace?”

He hesitates, then kisses me once more. It’s slow, languid—a goodbye kiss? I grip him harder, kiss

him harder. I don’t want him to leave me. Ever.

He draws back and touches my lips. “I’m sorry.”

The ache and shock of his apology startles me. I jump back, and Jace slips from my grasp.

He comes back, pants buttoned, holding a warm cloth for me, but something’s different. When I’m

cleaned and dressed again, I face him.

I stride over to him. “Why are you apologizing?” That was the most touching moment of my life.

“Because . . . because . . .”

“Because what?”

He turns away but I don’t let him go that easily. I follow him into his bedroom. “Talk to me, Jace.

Please, for God’s sake, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry because I shouldn’t have done that. Not with you.”

“With me?” I laugh but I’m far from amused. “Because I’m gay and you’re not?”

He swears under his breath, then yanks out the brown envelope from his desk drawer. “No.”

The envelope looks darker now. More ominous.

Jace slaps it on the desk between us. “Because you might be my brother.”

rudstone

“Might be?” My mind refuses to piece together what he’s saying. “We’re stepbrothers,” I say.

“We’re not really related. We aren’t even stepbrothers! We’re just guys who met as teenagers and spent

every second week together.”

Jace slides the envelope toward me. “I want to convince myself.” I stare at the envelope. Jace says,

“I did a discrete DNA test of me and Dad.”

My breath whistles in sharply. I shiver. “But you haven’t opened it. You don’t know for sure

we’re”—my stomach flips—“brothers.”

Jace swipes away the tears in his eyes.

I lean against his desk, the corner of the envelope nudging my forearm.

“Why . . . how . . . what . . .”

He knows what I’m trying to ask. “Do you remember that night I was playing the piano and you

burst in here, full of energy, and danced like you didn’t have a care in the world?”

When he came over and began tickling me on the couch. I breathe in sharply; it’s not a moment I

can easily forget.

“I remember,” I say. “Annie came in and told you your mum was crying.”

“I went downstairs,” Jace says, staring at the envelope. “Mum and Dad were having a fight.”

“You said you didn’t know why she was upset.”

“I lied.” He leaps up from his seat and paces the length of his bed. “They were arguing about

getting married. Mum wanted to. Dad didn’t. Mum tried to convince him. Said they were together after

Dad broke up with your mum, before he learned about the pregnancy.”

Jace slumps on his bed, clasps his hands together, and jiggles his leg. “Mum said ‘I knew then you

were the one. Thought you felt it too. Thought you would marry me.’ And Dad said, ‘For thinking I was

the one, you sure moved on quickly!”’

I fold my arms against a shiver.

Jace continues, “I knew what Dad was digging at, that Mum quickly got pregnant with me. Dad

pushed her again. ‘What was his name, Roger? George?’ And Mum said nothing. Nothing.” Jace shakes

his head. “I didn’t know what to do but it made me miserable. You told me to do something about it so I

had his toothbrush tested.”

“The day you gave me that peach stone with the white wave.” I recall him throwing the stone to me

in the hall, the toothbrush in his other hand.

I close my eyes.

The air stirs, and Jace’s shadow falls over me.

“Why didn’t you open it?” I ask. I count his breaths. One, two, three. “Don’t you want to know if

he’s your real dad too?”

One, two—“Not as much as I want to know he’s not.”

I open my eyes. Jace is staring at our feet, but he’s standing close like he’s torn between two

emotions.

Like he’s always been, hasn’t he?

It’s complicated.

Brothers.

I feel sick. “Open it.”

Jace picks up the envelope. “I can’t.”

“I’ll do it, then.” His expression crumbles and I think he might cry, but he schools his emotion and

passes me the envelope.

I thumb the edges. A small flap at one corner scrapes my skin—this is how far Jace has come to

opening it. How many times has he stared at it and wondered? How many times has he tried to rip it

open but shoved it back into the dark drawer?

How many times has his stomach flipped like mine is now?

What if it isn’t a match? We could continue exploring our feelings for each other and be everything

we want.

I could take him in my arms and kiss him so damn hard. I could push him onto his bed and love

him all over again.

What if it is a match?

I stop thumbing the envelope.

Shake my head.

I can’t either.

It’s too risky.

I’d rather be in the purgatory of love than the hell of loss.

I drop it back in the drawer Jace pulled it from and slam it shut.

“Are you mad?” Jace asks after a long time. “For our moment? I know I shouldn’t have, but . . . it’s

true. The song. I don’t know what it makes me, but it’s true. I’m disgusted with myself. I knew better. I

shouldn’t have. God, I’m so sorry.”

Don’t be. It was special. “For all we know, we’re not related.”

And if you are related? Do you really care? My stomach twists at the voice.

It’d be icky. It’d be proper incestuous. No more reassuring myself that my feelings are okay

because we’re not real siblings.

I bow my head.

Do you really care?

onyx

I don’t see Jace the next time I’m at Dad’s. He took an earlier flight to his new life, so it’s just me

and Annie and Jace’s ghost at the dinner table with Dad and Lila.

I want onyx. Not to release the sorrow or grief.

But to become invisible.

To be a ghost alongside his.

part three: metamorphic

metamorphic: altered form.

amphibolite

Harder than limestone, heavier than granite. I feel like amphibolite.

The school year starts slowly, every day dragging longer than the last. Only the teachers are happy

–my work is getting more elaborate and difficult. After my geology teacher submitted my essay to a

lecturer he knows at Vic, Professor Donaldson wrote me a personal message informing me that she

wants me to study in her department and, if I need it, she’ll write me a letter of recommendation to the

dean of admissions. Not that she thinks I’ll need the help.

I won’t. Not only is schoolwork the only distraction I have and what I pour everything into—I

won’t need the help because I don’t want to stay in Wellington.

I shuffle alongside Ernie and Bert and hide in the protection of their laughs and jokes.

“Dude,” Ernie says, punching my arm. We’re at our spot in the courtyard, the brick wall. “Can you

drive us to Annie’s after class?”

I raise a brow. I know what he wants but I can’t find the energy to care. “Her flatmates aren’t

interested.” At least, I don’t think they’re interested. I haven’t exactly been paying attention.

He and Bert exchange confused looks and shake their heads at each other. Ernie mouths, “What’s

up with him?”

“He seriously needs to get laid,” Bert says, then clicks his fingers. “Got it. My cousin totally digs

dudes too. He’ll be down for my birthday in a couple weeks.”

Ernie rubs his hands together. “Sold. Then maybe we’ll have the real Cooper back. Yeah,” he

laughs. “Your cousin can pump some life into him.”

I’m drawn into the moment long enough to say, “Who says I wouldn’t be the one doing the

pumping?”

“That’s our boy, though slightly more crass. I like it.”

I stare at the bench in the middle of the courtyard.

The bell rings, signaling our trek to class. The air feels different, thicker and stodgier.

After school, I find a large dark stone near the hatchback Jace left behind for me. When I pick it up,

I don’t feel the weight of a thousand memories. I feel hollowness. Sympathetic hollowness, perhaps?

Bert and Ernie catch up. Arms sling around my waist and neck as they plead.

“We’ll be on our best behavior.” Ernie flutters his lashes. I’m about to say no, not today, when my

pocket vibrates to life.

A gentle breeze carries the sharp taste of exhaust fumes mixed with Indian spices. Bert and Ernie’s

sudden laughter rings in my ears.

The phone vibrates again, sending shivers racing up my arm as I take the call. “Jace!” A smile pulls

my lips wide, and I laugh, twisting away from Ernie and Bert. The sun shines on my face and I breathe

in the brightness. “How are you?”

His voice is croaky and he coughs. “Sorry. Autumn cold.”

“That sucks. You’re calling early this week.”

“Yeah, I’m going hiking this weekend so I wanted to say hey now.”

“Where are you going?” And with who?

“A couple of mates and I are doing the difficult trail at Kepler Track.”

“Mates?”

Jace knows me too well. “Cooper,” he says quietly. It’s a warning. It’s a plea. Please don’t go there.

Let’s not talk about the bloody elephant in the room. Let’s pretend it doesn’t exist. Let’s pretend All I

Want Is You never happened.

Pretending is the unspoken rule of our weekly chats. Pretending is a different version of the duel we

began on opposite sides of the street waiting for the bus. This time he’s on the South Island, I’m on the

North, and we are masters at pretending.

He pretends not to care about my love life, and I pretend not to care about his.

“What are you doing this weekend?” His play is shrewder.

Walking barefoot across the beach collecting paua shells for you and stones for me. “Nothing.”

“Hey, I’m eighteen now. Want me to send you my driver’s license? I can claim I lost it and get a

new one.”

“You want me to sneak into gay bars in hopes of getting lucky?”

Jace coughs again. “No.” His voice cracks. “I just want you to have fun.”

“I’d never get away with your ID. We look nothing alike.”

“It’s not healthy.” Long pause. “Doing nothing.”

So some rules are okay to break but not others?

He changes the subject, “How’s the hatchback doing?”

“The only thing around here running smoothly.”

“Fuck.”

I curse myself for my lack of subtlety. “How’s your music coming along?”

“Doesn’t sound the same as it does at home. The pieces are more complicated but I’m pulling

through. Getting better.”

“Maybe you can play me something when you come home for the winter holidays?”

He coughs but doesn’t answer. Voices call his name in the background. “Look,” he says. “I gotta

go. I’ll call next week, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Have a good hike.”

“Do something this weekend, Cooper. Please?”

I glance over my shoulder at Ernie and Bert. “Promise.”

When he hangs up, I hold the phone for a long moment before facing the boys. “All right,” I tell

them, jingling the keys in my bag. “Let’s go see Annie.”

* * *

Annie’s flat looks as though a bomb exploded in it. Crusty dishes are piled in the sink, heaps of

clothing are thrown all over the floor, empty wine bottles give the air a sour bite, and the bathroom

walls are edged with mold.

I decide to wait rather than use the bathroom.

“I thought girls were meant to be the clean ones,” I say as she clears a space on the couch for us.

Annie shrugs. “There’s only so many times you can bitch at your flatmates to clean up before it

gets awkward.”

I shake my head. “No wonder you’re coming to Mum’s for dinner more and more.”

Ernie and Bert lounge in the mess like it’s their throne. “Couple of beers, and we’re set.”

“Someone say beer?” One of Annie’s flatmates walks in with a six-pack in one hand, and a bunch

of shopping bags in the other.

Bert stares at the door like it’s magical. “Couple of girls, and we’re super set.”

The girls hit it off with Bert and Ernie while I zone out of the conversation and think about Jace.

My sister digs her fingernails in my arm and drags me to her room, which is surprisingly much cleaner

than the rest of the house. We sit on the wide windowsill overlooking a weedy garden. “What’s up,

Coop?”

“Nothing. I’m . . . fine.” Before she pushes further I ask about her. “How’d your date go with

what’s-his-name?”

She groans. “Steve. The one night wonder.” A shrug. “Never do that again. Worst walk of shame

ever. I banged into Darren looking like a prostitute.” She blushes. “He had to know. All I wanted was to

slink home and hide.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. But of course the one that got away will catch me at my worst.”

We’re quiet but Ernie and Bert are laughing in the background.

Annie pinches my arm. “You at Mum’s this week?”

I shake my head. “Dad’s. You coming for dinner this weekend?” It makes it easier when she comes,

and I suspect that’s why she makes more of an effort.

“I mean, I wasn’t planning to. Tomorrow I’m watching this theatre production Chrissy is in. And I

have group-project meeting on Sunday. But I don’t have to see the play. Sure. I’ll come out—”

“No, don’t.” I put on an extra cheery smile that tastes like cardboard. “I’m good. Next week,

maybe.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Invite your friends around. You guys could have a slumber party.”

I haven’t had Bert and Ernie sleep over since that night with Jace. I’m afraid if I do, all I’ll

remember is touching Jace the first time. Willing him to look at me.

Just a jerk off?

What else would it be?

“Yeah, they’re busy. But I have a test to study for.”

“You study harder than anyone I’ve met at university. You know where you’re going next year?”

“Otago.”

Dunedin.

Jace.

Do you care?

No. And I’ll convince him not to either.

And the rest of the world if I have to.

Bert and Ernie are having a great time, so I leave them to it. They can catch a taxi home. They’re

too high to care I’m ditching them, anyway.

I drive the hatchback around the bays, driving and driving, until the sun finally sets.

“Cooper,” Dad says when I finally get in the door. He and Lila are dressed up. “We were about to

head out to dinner. Do you want to join us?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll just hang here.”

Lila unclips her earrings. “We don’t need to go out. We’ll hang with you.”

Dad exchanges a look with her, and toes off his shoes. “Ordering in it is.”

Despite their efforts to make the big house seem less empty and less quiet, it makes it worse. There

should be more voices, more spark in the air.

I eat a few slices of pizza, fake a few yawns, and head upstairs.

The gaming room is dark, the piano sitting untouched for months. I sit on the stool and let the chill

creep over me. If I close my eyes, I hear his song and his ghost settles around me as if pulling me into

his arms.

I scrub my face and laugh at myself.

Then I go to bed. His bed.

greywacke

A week later when I’m at Mum’s, I get mail from Jace. A greywacke stone that’s broken on one

side, and a short note.

From the Kepler Track. (The trail is beautiful.) This stone made sleeping impossible. It kept digging

into my back, so I snuck out of the tent in the middle of the night, lifted the pegs, and pulled it out. Still

couldn’t sleep, though. After that, all I could think about was rocks.

I smile, and suddenly I’m me again.

We’re apart but nothing has to change. This is just a test we’ll pass with flying colors.

I hole myself up in my room, lie on the bed facing my toolboxes, and phone him.

It’s so easy. He tells me about all the crazy people he’s meeting in Dunedin and how I would love it

down there.

He laughs. I laugh.

I make him take me to his dorm room and play something on his new piano. He asks me if he

should sing, and I catch my breath.

He plays, and even through the phone it’s beautiful.

We talk for over an hour. I never want this to end but my phone is beeping with low battery. Jace

laughs again and tells me to have a good night.

I hang up, clutch the phone to my chest and bite my lip—

“Who was that?” I leap to my feet. Mum is leaning against the doorframe; the door mustn’t have

been closed properly. “Your boyfriend?”

I splutter. “Wh—what makes you think that?”

“You sound happy. Head over heels. I haven’t heard you this animated in months.”

I slip the phone in my pocket. “Dinner ready?”

“It was your boyfriend then? When do I get to meet him?”

Dread and nausea wash over me, and I finally understand why Jace has distanced himself.

“It was just a friend,” I tell her. Would you hate me if you knew I was in love with my maybe

brother? “Just a friend.”

“Oh, unrequited, is it? That’s a hard one but you have to hold out for someone special. Someone

who wants you as much as you want him; someone who’ll be proud to call you his boyfriend.”

We have a roasted-chicken dinner, and Annie comes too. Paul, sitting opposite from Mum, opens a

bottle of white wine and pours us each a glass, mine slighter than the rest but I don’t care for alcohol

anyway.

“What’s this for?” Annie asks, glancing between Mum and Paul. Annie silently asks me with her

facial expressions what this is all about.

I shake my head.

Mum stands up. “Good news,” she says, smiling at Paul. “We’re moving in together.”

topaz

Winter comes.

Jace doesn’t.

He has the chance to play a few gigs, so he won’t be home until Christmas.

I call him to make alternate plans.

“I’ll come down,” I say as soon as he picks up. “Can take a flight tomorrow. I’d love to watch your

gigs.”

“Cooper,” Jace says. His tone sounds distant. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“I’m going to be in rehearsals most of the time. You’ll be bored.”

“I see.” And I do, clearly. My eyes sting and my throat tightens.

Jace quickly changes the topic. “But hey, what’s new? How’s Annie?”

“Same old. She’s fine. You?”

“Tried this fish and chips place near campus, it was great.”

“Better than the one we go to here?”

“Different.”

“So not better?”

“Cooper! Fuck. They don’t use canola oil to fry the fish.”

“We never asked what they use here. Could be coconut, maybe.”

Silence.

I sit on the end of his bed and wish I had something else to say. But I don’t. Neither does he.

A male voice speaks in the background, and Jace answers, “Just my brother. Be there soon.”

Just my brother.

My stomach twists.

“Sorry,” I say hurriedly. “Bert and Ernie just showed up. We’re hitting some clubs tonight. I

gotta . . . yeah. Later.”

I barely give him the time to say goodbye before hanging up. I rummage for some topaz, hoping it

will cure me from the deep madness creeping into my mind.

* * *

I’m not expecting Jace to phone me the next week, but when he doesn’t, I curl into his bed and let

the tears fall.

The edge of the pillow is wet. I shift, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. Lila startles me

when she plops onto the edge of the bed and pats my back. I didn’t even hear the door open. “Hey.

Cheer up, love.”

I roll onto my back and throw an arm over my face to hide my tears. “Lila.”

Please go away. Leave me alone.

“Oh, darling.” She touches my hair. “This has gone on too long. It hurts to see you so depressed.”

“I’m not”—sniff—“depressed.”

I stiffen as I realize I’m in Jace’s bed. What is Lila thinking?

“It’s hard being the one left behind, isn’t it?”

A gurgling sound escapes as I try to stop my tears.

She strokes my hair, making my tears leak faster.

“I felt like that when your Dad left for America in my last year of school, too. He was my best

friend. I cried and listened to a lot of U2, wallowing in my misery. It was tough going from hanging

every day to nothing but the occasional call.”

I nod.

“I miss Jace too. He grew up too damn fast.”

“Do you cry and listen to U2 now?”

Her fingers stop moving. “All the time. Usually in the car. I’ll look into the empty passenger seat

like I used to when he was younger, and I wish he’d never grown up.”

“Does it make you mad he didn’t come for winter?”

“No.”

I sniff.

She continues. “I’m happy that he’s making his own way in life. Trying new things. Learning more

about himself and what he wants. I’m proud of him, even though it hurts to feel the ties between us

lengthen.”

I shift my arm and look up at her. Her blue eyes are framed by dark hair like his. Hers is still short,

not fully grown out yet like it was before she got sick. “Sorry,” I murmur.

“What for?”

I shrug. “For being mad at him.”

She leans down and kisses my forehead. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’ll be all right. We’ll stick it