Page 102 of Quake

I hear booming footsteps coming from behind us. “Gloria! You can’t be in the men’s locker room!” I hear Coach shout at my mom.

I can practically hear the eye roll she gives him before wheeling herself farther inside. “Cover up your jimmies, boys, ’cause Mama De Laurentiis is comin’ in!”

“Jimmies?”Damien asks me in confusion, his head tilting to the side.

“Who the hell knows?” I grumble.

My mom wheels into the room, plugging her nose dramatically. “God, it reeks in here! This issonot how they describe it in the books.”

“Books?” he asks, even more confused. This time, I just ignore him.

As my mom wheels herself beside us, she smiles at me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tightly. “Care to explain what’s going on in here?”

I look hesitantly to Damien before opening my mouth about any of this. She’s my mother, the second most important woman in my life, but this isn’t my story to tell.

Damien gives me a small nod, seemingly resigning to it. It seems he’s learned pretty quickly that my mom isn’t someone you say no to.

For the next several very tense minutes, I relay the entire explanation to my mom and watch as a parade of emotions flit across her tan face.

When I’m finished, Damien looks even more exhausted than he had. Mom pins him with her blue eyes, and a familiar softness fills them. She doesn’t pity him. She empathizes with him.

That’s potentially her best quality. Her ability to be aware that she doesn’t understand what you’ve lived through, but to not cast judgment or try to tell you about a time she’s lived through something similar. No, she just lets you feel what you need to feel and makes it known that she’s there when you’re ready to talk about it.

She places her hand gently against his cheek, drawing his attention to her the same way she has with all of her children on one occasion or another.

His sad eyes are brimming with tears, and it takes everything in me to not let the guilt I feel creeping in take over entirely.

Hewasa dick. I reacted based on the information I was presented with, and there was no way for me to have guessed any of this. I shouldn’t blame myself for that.I can’t blame myself for that.

“Damien, I don’t know you well, and if I were a betting woman…” She chuckles at that. “Hell, who am I kidding? Iama betting woman. Who doesn’t love a good casino?” She shakes her head when she sees his confusion and decides to move on, clearing her throat. “As I was saying, I’d bet that what we’ve seen of you, what you’ve shown us anyway, is not all there is, and much of it isn’t even the truth. Is that right?”

He nods solemnly, giving in to this impromptu intervention of sorts.

“Good because I sincerely hope that you’ll take this as a life lesson in authenticity. People will love and support you for who you are, Damien. Therightpeople. And I hope that I get to see more of who you are and get to meet the side of you that Alex knew. Because aside from my own children, that young man was the kindest person I’d ever known.” Her eyes are glassy, and her voice chokes on her next words. “Which is how I know that he must’ve seen so much good in you. He was such an incredible man,” she finishes, and my heart feels like it’s being wrenched out of my chest.

I’ve never seen my mom openly fall apart before. She’s always been the building blocks, holding my family up time andtime again. I’ve never thought about all the times she must have mourned in private, protecting us from her own emotions.

She moves her hand from his cheek to his hand, squeezing reassuringly. Tears slide down both of their cheeks, and my stomach twists in knots. God, I fucking miss him. Before Lark, I had no idea how the hell I’d possibly make it without him. Some days, I still don’t.

“I’m so sorry,” he cries, his voice watery and strangled.

“Sweetheart, what happened to that young man is not your fault. I’ve known Alex almost all his life, and I can say with absolute confidence that he wouldn’t have changed a single thing. He was always thinking ten steps ahead of everyone else, and if he’d known what would happen that night, I guarantee he’d still want to make sure you got home safely.”

Damien nearly shatters, losing all of his resolve, and he practically falls into my mother’s lap. She clutches him to her chest, gently patting his back as he crumbles.

“How can I ever make it up to him now that he’s gone?” he asks, sounding earnest.

“I think the best thing you can do is to live your life foryou. Be your most authentic self, just like Alex always had,” she tells him.

An awkward feeling cloaks me, making me realize I haven’t spoken a word during this entire exchange.

“Love is love is love, Damien. You’ll always have the support of my family if andwhenyou decide to allow yourself the joy of living as you truly are,” she assures him.

He straightens, squeezing her knee gently, and his eyes flash to mine. “I’m sorry, Gianni.” Before I can interrupt him to stop him from apologizing again, he continues. “Genuinely, I’m so damn sorry for the things I’ve said about you and abouthim.I was bitter and, if I’m honest, jealous. God, I was so damn jealous of the time you’d gotten to spend with him over the years, even just as friends. My rage was misplaced and, frankly, misguided. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you know I’ll spend every day, for the rest of my life, trying to make up for it and doing my best to honor his memory.”

I clap him on the shoulder and peer down at him. “Consider it forgiven. If there’s one thing Alex was good at, it was his exhausting ability to forgive at the drop of a hat.” I give him a small smile, all of my rage from earlier effectively running dry.

He stands, looking between my mom and me. “Thank you, both,” he tells us, his voice small but sure, and he heads out of the locker room.

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