Page 90 of Perfect on Paper

Finn finished and waited for our reactions. Well. To put it lightly, it was the worst story I’d ever heard. Brougham fighting over Winona like some damsel in distress. Gag me.

Brougham and I locked eyes, and he shrugged. “I mean, honestly, I don’t know why you wanted my side of the story at all. You got every detail exactly right.”

My stomach plummeted.

“Really?” Finn asked.

“No, not even close. But I’m curious as to the relevance of making Jack my half brother?”

“Dramatic tension,” Finn replied without missing a beat.

“… Okay, sure.”

I snuck another glance at Jack, and waited for him to look up. The eye farthest from me, the one that had been hidden from my sight the first time I’d looked at him, was indeed an interesting purple-magenta color, the lid so swollen it hung down over his eyeball. Oof. What, exactly, could have caused Brougham, who didn’t drink, who had all the reasons in the world to avoid alcohol, to get drunk? To have caused Brougham, who loved ribbing but hated true confrontation, to hit someone?

If Brougham wouldn’t even tell Finn, there was no way I’d be privy to what had happened to him that night. Still, after the bell rang and everyone started dissipating to class, I hung by his side. “I don’t want to poke my nose in where it isn’t wanted,” I said softly. “So you don’t need to tell me what happened at prom. But I wanted to check if everything’s okay. If you want to vent, or if you need advice, or anything…”

“Nope. Actually, I’m in a really good place right now,” Brougham said. “Thank you.”

“Oh.” It stung, but the important thing was that Brougham was okay. And wasn’t the goal of every relationship coach to get their client to a point where they could confidently navigate situations themselves? Not that I would know, thisbeing my first gig and all. But it seemed about right. “I’m glad to hear. As long as you’re good, that’s all I need to know.”

Brougham pursed his lips. “Thanks. Hey, by the way, I told you Finn isn’t afraid to tell people what he thinks.”

It took me a second to catch up to the topic change, then I remembered the locker discussion.

“He had a good point,” I admitted.

“Of course he did. But the look on your face when he said he wouldn’t have written to you.” Brougham looked almost delighted about it, which, for him, involved the slightest quirk in the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t have alook,did I?”

“Oh, you totally had a look,” Brougham said, and warmth flooded my cheeks. “Not everything’s gonna be your place, you know. It’s okay not to always know more than everyone else in the room.”

I rested my back against his locker neighbors while Brougham rummaged through collecting his stuff. Now that the surprise of hearing Finn say he didn’t want my advice had worn off, I felt like an idiot. OfcourseI wouldn’t be the best person to talk him through some of the shit he went through. And the fact that Brougham had noticed my initial shock made me want to evaporate. Both of them probably thought I had the biggest unearned ego in the school. And, honestly, they wouldn’t be far off from the truth.

When Brougham reemerged, he took one look at my face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

I closed his locker door and started walking. He hurried to catch up with me. “I never had any business giving people advice,” I said.

“Why, because of what Finn said?”

“No, god no. Finn was totally in the right. It’s just, allof it. I wasn’t ethical with Brooke, I broke Ray’s confidentiality, I let all those letters get stolen. I started the locker to help people, and I ended up using it to hurt them. I hurt so many people. What iswrongwith me?”

“Hey,” Brougham said, touching my arm to slow me down. “You stuffed up. That’s gonna happen sometimes. It’s more helpful to everyone now if you learn from it, and actually do things differently next time, instead of moping about how shit you are. Yeah?”

Half of me knew he was right. But how did I even begin to make up for all the damage I’d caused?

“Yeah?” he pressed.

“Yeah. I owe Brooke the world’s biggest apology.”

“That’s a good start.” Brougham glanced around us, then leaned in. “Um, also, speaking of immoral mistakes, I want to tell you what the Jack thing was about.”

This pulled me out of my shame spiral more quickly than any lecture. “Don’t tell me heisyour half brother?”

Brougham rolled his eyes. “You’re both ridiculous. No. He was one of the people who had a letter leaked.”

My laugh faded, and the hallway went fuzzy. “Oh.”

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