Page 94 of Rebel Summer

“You don’t know why?”

He shook his head. “He left a note for my parents so we wouldn’t think he was kidnapped or something. Said he was going to join the Peace Corps and to not contact him. He wanted to live his own life and didn’t need us to do it for him. One day, we were building our Lego car together, and he was asking me about girls, and the next thing I know, his room was packed up and he was gone.”

I sat stunned, my mind trying to make sense of a person’s thought process in doing that to a family. To a brother.

“Do people know?” Though my dad had referenced it the night Dax punched Lucas, I hadn’t heard a word before that. For a small island, that should have been big town gossip.

“A few close friends of the family know, but my parents have been pretty quiet about it. Mason took off right after he graduated, so I think most people assumed he was at college or just living his life somewhere. And…I guess he is.”

The booms and pops of color lighting the sky became background noise, a distraction. I was desperate to keep him talking. He didn’t seem to do much of that. Joking and teasing, sure—but speaking long sentences with meaning? Not so much.

“Were you close?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I idolized him.”

Three little words, each filled with so much pain.

“What about now?”

I felt his shoulders move in a shrug as he breathed out a huff. “I’m indifferent.”

“Did you ever talk to anybody?”

He paused, a furrow in his brow. “Like who?”

“A school counselor maybe? That’s a big deal. That’s a lot for a kid to try and process alone. Or what about your parents? Did you talk to them about it?”

“Oh, jeez,” he said, his hand over his face. “Don’t make me regret this even more.”

I made a silent face into the night. My brain had a sudden overload of questions that needed answers. I had fired them off so quickly. Too quickly. But the gaps and holes in what I knew of Dax Miller were beginning to fill, and I was greedy for the knowledge. I attempted to ease him back in.

“Well, I am a doctor,” I said, turning so he could see my grin. “You can talk to me.”

He shook his head. “A doctor who sweeps my floors.”

I poked at his side.

His low, easy chuckle made me think I could curl into him right now and not blink an eye, but I didn’t.

“Did your parents talk to you about it?” Other than my brief interaction with Dax’s parents at the shop, I didn’t know them.

To my surprise, Dax spoke again. “It’s hard because I was thirteen when it happened. I didn’t understand everything at the time. All I knew was that my brother was gone, and according to his note, it was my parents’ fault. They pushed him too hard, wanted him to go be a lawyer or a doctor or invest in real estate because that’s what we do on this island. Looking at it now, I imagine they tried to talk to me, but I was so mad and…” he trailed off, biting his knuckle.

“Hurting,” I said softly.

After a moment, he nodded slightly and whispered back, “Hurting.”

“What happened after that?” I kept talking soft and slow, absorbing every little bit he was willing to give me.

Dax sighed, moving his hands to his face, rubbing up and down like he was washing it.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” he mumbled without any heat.

He didn’t answer, so I pressed him again. “What happened?”

“Well…I started raising some hell.”

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