The picture inside is of me at Little League. I take a painful breath, and then I pick the picture frame up and throw it across the room, watching it as it shatters against the wall.
I hate pictures.
“I don’t have to believe him.”
For the first time since I was a kid, I think about the dark side of my mother. The things I’ve always felt guilty for remembering. Her memory is supposed to be treasured, not tainted. She’s not here to defend herself, and in the end, I was the one who failed her the most. She deserves me to defend her now.
“What does that mean?” Wren asks, his voice quiet, acting as though he’s worried the next thing will be aimed at his head.
I don’t hate Wren. I don’t feel like shattering his skull.
Yet.
“It means he already knows she was cheating,” Ethan says, and my jaw clenches.
They both take a deep breath, and I grab a book of baseball cards and throw the entire thing against the wall. It doesn’t do any damage. It just drops to the ground with a loud thud.
I hate baseball cards.
“Are you okay?” Wren asks just as I throw a basketball.
They both duck when it ricochets off the wall and barrels toward their heads. Ethan catches it when it tries to bounce off the other wall, and he puts it beside him.
I hate basketballs.
“I’m fucking great. Can’t you tell?” I mutter dryly, grabbing two golf balls.
I hate golf balls.
***
BRIN
The first sound of something crashing startles me awake, and I sit there and listen, trying to see if I was just dreaming. But the loud banging at the door, proves that something is going on.
My tears are even falling in my sleep, so I’m not surprised that my face is wet. I try to dry my eyes as much as I can on my way to go answer the loud, persistent banging.
I’m shocked when Wren Prize is the one looking at me the second I swing open the door. Maggie comes running out of her room, tying her robe, and Carmen is right behind her, tying a robe as well.
Wren stares for a second, tilting his head as he studies them with far too much interest, and I snap my fingers in front of his face.
“Why are you banging on my door at midnight?” I whisper. Though I don’t know why I’m whispering. There’s no one else to wake up.
“We need a first-aid kit,” he says, sighing regretfully as he looks back to me. “And Rye doesn’t have one.”
“Why do you need it?” Maggie asks as she goes to the cabinet.
He looks at me and tightens his lips for a second, and then he answers reluctantly. “Rye sliced his hand open when he was beating up his car.”
What the hell?
“Why was he beating up his car?” Carmen asks.
“Because it’s been a rough day.”
I take the small box from Maggie, and I barge by Wren on my way over to the dumbass’s house.
“I can handle it, Brin. I’m sure you don’t want to see him. Especially like this.”