Page 3 of When I'm Gone

Brady is busy attempting to disappear behind a six inch nook between the door to the mudroom and a closet. I don’t know what possesses me, I’m really not a sentimental person, but as quickly as I can manage, I set my phone up on the granite island in the kitchen propped against a flower vase, check the view, and set it to record a video before slinking away and sitting on the landing of the staircase so Easton won’t see me immediately upon walking inside.

He comes in through the garage because the front door is for decoration, apparently, and poor Brady suddenly has no idea what to do with his hands. The closer the footsteps get, the more he fidgets.

When Easton finally slips through the door, the first thing I notice is the white paint splatter on his black skinny jeans, like he’d dropped a palette on himself. The kid must spend every spare second with a brush in his hand. I can’t see Brady from my perch with the door now open, but I’m confident he’s bouncing up and down on his toes. It’s a little hard to believe he hasn’t just launched himself at his brother at the first available opportunity. Easton is also more fair than his brother. It seems like Brady has a constant tan even in the perpetual lack of sunshine in Washington, much to my irritation.

At long last, Easton walks by the corner Brady was hiding in after calling out a greeting to his mom. He goes unnoticed at first, then his vans squeak on the tile floor as he halts and turns around.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims as Brady yanks him into a hug. My heart constricts when he tucks his head against Brady’s neck. They don’t let go for a long minute, just murmuring softly to each other while holding on for dear life as Easton’s shoulders shake a little.

When he does pull away, Brady wipes the tears from his cheekbones with his thumbs. “You okay?” he asks softly.

All Easton manages is a nod, blond hair falling into his face. The moment dies as their mom approaches and Easton steps away from Brady. “What do you think, Eas? Good surprise?” she asks with a teasing lilt to her voice.

He tries to swallow the emotion, which I don’t like, and nods. “I can’t believe Brady actually managed to hold out on me,” he says.

She laughs, high and a little melodic. “There’s a first time for everything.” Brady blushes and ducks his head before seeking me out again.

“Ace!” He beckons to me.

Easton’s red-rimmed eyes light up a little when he catches sight of me and my stomach swoops. “Hey,” he says shyly.

“Hi,” I return as I stand and approach him. When I’m on the ground level, I swipe my phone back and turn off the video. “I saw your work in Brady’s room. It’s incredible.”

He flashes an adorable dimpled grin and shuffles his shoes. “That’s kind of you to say,” he mumbles at the floor with a drawl similar to the one Brady gets when he’s had a few too many drinks.

“I mean it.”

Before it can get uncomfortable, Brady comes to the rescue. “What do you say, children? Let’s get in the pool.”

Twist my arm, why don’t you.“Now you’re talking, Callaghan.”

We do. The three of us spend hours splashing and dunking each other like kids, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. After we’ve thoroughly worn ourselves out, Brady is floating lazily on his back while Easton and I keep our feet submerged like we couldn’t dare to be parted from the water.

I have an inkling what Brady wants me to talk to him about, but it’s a shitty assumption to make about someone, soI hope he’s like his brother and I just need to get him talking. “So, you’re what? A sophomore?”

We haven’t talked much up until this point beyond casual ribbing while we were swimming, but he glows a bit under my interest. “A junior. I’ll be seventeen soon.”

I hum in acknowledgment. “Stressful year. Lots of people asking what you want to do with the rest of your life and expecting you to have it all figured out.”

He starts chewing on his pouty bottom lip while he eyes me, trying to determine if I’m really offering an olive branch. The things I do for Brady, I swear. “It’s a lot.”

Easton, as I’ve determined, is not like his brother and intends to make me work for it a little harder. Smart kid, I’ll give him that. “It is,” I admit. “But if you get through it, you go to college and find your people. Things get better after that.”

There is no way Brady would have been able to stay still long enough to allow this conversation without knowing it was taking place, but by all appearances, he’s willing to float for eternity. Props.

“I’m not good at that part,” he says under his breath. When I raise an eyebrow at him he clarifies. “Finding my people. I tend to find the opposite, more than anything.”

I’m tempted to chuckle but I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him and clam up. “It’s not exactly in my wheelhouse either. I’d be holed up in my dorm room every second I wasn’t in class if it wasn’t for Brady. I can be a little single-minded while the rest of the world passes me by, but he found me. Life is funny like that sometimes. One second, you’re so lonely it hurts and it seems endless, but your people are on their way to you.”

Jesus, that was a lot of words at one time for me. I don’t even know if that was exactly what I wanted to say, but it was what came out.

I guess it does the trick, though, because the dam breaks open and the words come flooding past his lips. “I didn’t mean for anyone to find out. I didn’t even know he was looking over my shoulder. I was careless, now I don’t know what to do.”

Easton shudders, and I’m hit with a damn-near overwhelming urge to take care of him. Wrap him in a blanket and pet his hair or something. This must be what Brady was talking about. I can see where this story is going, and he thinks he’s the one to blame.

I resist, but barely. “What happened, Easton?”

He takes a shaky breath that cracks my chest. “There’s this guy in my art class. I thought he was really nice. Sutton Wayland. He plays football, and he used to sit with me. I thought we were kind of friends. He’d tell me about his games and ask about what I was working on. Then I ruined it. He’s just so fucking gorgeous, and he was being so sweet to me. I don’t always sketch stuff like that but his face was basically tattooed behind my eyelids. Last week, he swiped my sketchbook, just joking around, but it was open and he saw. He didn’t exactly take it well.”

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