“I did what I had to, Ty,” I say dully. “I did what I had to, to keep you safe. I don’t expect you to understand.”
His eyes start to plead as he grabs my hand again. “Whatever it is, we can fix it!” he begs. “Whatever she did, she’s gone now! We can make everything right again.”
I shake my head, and his tears start flowing freely now. “Go with Creed, Kid.”
“Bear?” a voice says from the top of the stairs, and the earthquake begins. I feel it roll up through my body and every ledge that I’ve ever made, every safe haven that I’ve ever constructed breaks apart and blows away. Daggers stab through my eyes, and I turn and see Otter standing at the top of the stairs, his hair sticking up every which way, rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes. He smiles down at me but it slowly fades as he sees in me the same thing that the Kid has seen.
“Otter, something’s not right,” the Kid says loudly. “Something’s wrong, and Bear promised me—”
“Creed,” I say. “Please take Ty home. I’ll be right behind you.”
“No!” the Kid yells as Creed picks him up. “No, Creed! You don’t understand! You have to stop him! You have to stop Bear!”
Creed looks helplessly at me, and I point toward the door, and the Kid begins to sob. “I hate her!” he cries. “I hate her! You can’t let her do this, Bear! You can’t let her win!” There’s more, a lot more, but it’s buffeted as Creed closes the door behind them. I hear Otter moving swiftly down the steps, and he peers through the window, looking out into the driveway. Moments later, his body is illuminated as the lights on Creed’s car turn on. I hear him reverse out of the driveway, and then it’s quiet.
“What is going on?” Otter says suddenly, turning to face me. “What the hell was that all about? What happened with your mom?”
I look over at him, and his face is stony, his eyes suspicious. It pains me further to have him ever look at me this way, but I know it’s not going to get any better from here. I take a deep breath and open my mouth to speak, to say what it is I’ve hastily rehearsed, when it catches in my throat. I gag on it, and molten steel presses against my stomach, and it’s sharp and blazing, and I think it will tear me apart. I bend over, clutching myself, and I hear Otter rush over to me, and then his arms are around me, and he’s rocking me like he always does when the world gets too loud, when the water threatens to rise. He doesn’t know now that I’m already gone. He doesn’t know now that it’s already too late.
“It’s okay, Bear,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here, and it’s going to be okay—”
“No, it’s not,” I gasp out and push myself forcibly away from him. He reels back and catches his footing just before he falls on his ass. I didn’t mean to push him so hard, but I felt him starting to pull me up from the depths. I felt myself starting to rise, and I know that if I breach the surface now, there’s going to be no way that I can do this, there’s no way that I can carry out this farce. Ty is depending on me now, more than ever, and I can’t have Otter pulling me up for air.
“What’s going on, Bear?” he says, his eyes hard again. “What happened to you?”
“I can’t be with you anymore,” I say, knowing I can’t take them back. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to recapture my breathing, trying to keep it under control. In the darkness, I see the thunderstorm flash brightly above the surface. Lightning shatters its way across the sky, and it looks like a shooting star. I’m not so far gone yet to know that it’s a lie.
He snorts. “What? Like hell, Bear. That was a nice try, though.”
“I can’t be with you anymore,” I say again. “It’s not who I am.”
“What did she say to you?” he snaps.
“She didn’t say anything,” I tell him. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“Like hell it doesn’t!” he snarls, and I feel a rush of air and think it’s the wind again, but then I feel Otter’s breath upon my face, and I know he’s standing right in front of me. I don’t open my eyes. I can’t.
“What did she do, Bear? It’s only been a couple of hours! What the fuck did she do to you?”
“Please, Otter,” I whisper.
“Please what?” he says angrily. “I leave you alone with her against my better judgment, and now you’re here standing in front of me, not even able to look me in the eye, telling me you don’t want to be with me? Of course I’m going to ask questions. Of course I’m going to make you explain everything. You’re not getting away that easily. You’re not going to sit there and spout your stupid bullshit!”
My eyes flash open, and for the first time tonight, I am angry with him. Irrationally so, but angry nonetheless. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but the way it wells inside me makes me nauseous. I want to lash out and hit and scratch and bite, and as much as I try to tell myself that he has every right to act this way, every right to demand an explanation that’s not a flat-out lie, I can’t help it. It’s like all the capillaries have burst behind my eyes because all I see is red.
“It’s not stupid!” I shout back, spittle flying from my lips. “Why can’t you understand, Otter? I can’t do this anymore with you! It’s not who I am!”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch at my raised voice; it’s like he’s turned to stone. “What the fuck you mean it’s not who you are?” he growls. “Who do you think you’re talking to here, Bear? I know you better than anyone in the world. I know when you’re lying.”
“We were only kidding ourselves, Otter,” I say, my voice as cold as I can make it. Something inside me shifts then and falls into the chasm that has opened up inside of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. “This… this thing we had, it was wrong. It was a mistake.”
OTTER! the voice suddenly roars from inside of me. OTTER! DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! HE’S A FRAUD! OH, OTTER! PLEASE HEAR ME! HE’S LYIN—
It ceases as I shove it back into that secret place inside of me.
“A mistake?” Otter says incredulously. “How was it a mistake? How can you stand in front of me and say that? What did she do to you, Bear? What does she have on you?”
“Nothing! She’s gone, Otter! Why the hell would I be doing this if she already went away?”