“Son, it doesn’t matter.”
“How,” I inhaled a deep breath, ready to fucking explode, “long?”
Wes grabbed her hand. “Look, Son, it doesn’t matter.”
That word—coming out of his mouth—fuck, no.
“Do not call me that,” I growled at him, ready to rip his head off if I had to.
“Look, Trey, honey,” my mom cut in, “it doesn’t matter. You and Lexi have agreed not to carry on a real relationship, right? So, really, the point is moot, anyway.”
I stood, and luckily my legs held me upright. “What the fuck?” Are you saying that Lexi—Christ—you have got to be—are you saying what we think you’re saying?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Just leave it alone,” Wes answered me back with another non-answer.
“Oh, my God, oh my God, oh, my God,” Lexi said. I wanted to look her way—I just couldn’t.
If this was true—if we were really—
Christ.
I’d never be able to look at her again.
Then, out of nowhere—Wes and Mom burst into laughter.
Mom doubled over. “Oh, crap, you were right,” she wheezed out, “that was freaking hilarious!”
“Did you see their faces?” Wes boomed out, wiping his eyes as he laughed.
Mom nodded at him, and grabbed onto his arm. “Total shock.”
“What’s going on?” Lexi yelled from the couch. Her face was ashen. “Are Trey and I—”
“Related? No, of course not. I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing,” Wes replied to his daughter.
My shoulders slumped, and the tightness in my chest finally eased.
I took a few, long, deep breaths.
“That was not fucking funny.” I glared at my mother. Then I scowled at Wes.
After that, I swiped my keys off the side table, and strode to the door.
“Son, Trey,” Mom touched my arm, “it was just a joke.”
I peered down at her. “It wasn’t.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I cried.
But right now, at this very second, I wanted to collapse in her arms and burst out into tears.
“Trey, stay and talk with us, please.” Wes looked at me with a serious expression on his face.
Fuck him.
Fuck everyone.
I stuck my hand on the doorknob, and threw the door open.