I think we broke him for real this time.
Dutch’s phone goes off.
From the way he shoots to his feet, I know it’s Cadence calling.
“Gotta go,” he says gruffly. Picking his way past the scattered beer cans, he hustles out the door.
Finn checks his watch and snaps his book closed. “I’m heading off too.”
I don’t ask where he’s going. Not like he’d tell us anyway.
Finn is like a magic mirror. He only reveals what he wants and if he doesn’t want to show anything—screw you.
I lean back on my elbow and twirl my drumsticks.
Sol turns to face me. “Why the hell did all that happen and you didn’t tell me a thing?”
“Ask Dutch.”
Sol’s voice is sharp enough to cut. “Like I’m doing that.”
I ease up and stare at the man I consider a brother.
“What?” Sol takes a sip of the beer. The sun is setting and the moon is already out, reflecting on the blue of the pool.
“Do you really have feelings for her?”
Sol’s shoulders stiffen, but that’s the only indication that he’s affected by my question.
He says nothing for a long time.
I wait, already sensing what the answer is.
“She’s like me.” He squints into the distance, fingers tightening around his beer can. “It feels like we’re made of the same stuff. Like we beat with the same heart.”
“Sounds like love to me.”
“It’s deeper than that. I want to protect her like I couldn’t protect myself.”
Thatis deep.
I let the comment sit because I can’t think of a joke to lighten the tension.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.
As darkness sets in fully, I struggle with what to say. I feel Sol’s desolateness. It’s like a person sitting between us, sipping a beer. Like a living breathingthingthat’s got a leash on him.
I face my best friend. “Have you been going to therapy?”
“Screw off, Zane.”
“I’m just asking.”
“No, you’re asking a whole lot behind that.” He gets up, crushes the beer can and tosses it. “My folks locked me up in the loony bin for months, so excuse me if I’m not a fan of doctors.”
“Is that a no?”
“I’ve got my own form of therapy.”