Page 5 of Our Cracked Pieces
Staring at my brother’s back, watching him make me breakfast as one of the first things he wanted to do today, I was so tempted to come clean. I was so tempted to spill my guts and have him make it all go away.
But I couldn’t.
For the same reason I haven’t told the girls, I didn’t want to burden Grayson with a problem that was no one’s fault but my own. At eighteen, I was an adult. I was going off to college in a few months with the understanding that I was adult enough to handle my own shit. It was going to be left to me to fix my own shit, and that should start now, right?
Besides, if I told Grayson, there was a good chance I’d be ruining the rest of his life. My brother had a quiet temper, but it was a violent one. I’ve only seen him lose his shit a handful of times in our lives, and none of those times had been pretty. Grayson had a strong protective streak, and he wasn’t afraid to come out swinging if the occasion called for it. Looking at him though, you’d never guess it. He came across as the nice, wholesome type.
Only a few people knew the real Grayson Lewis.
And we were close enough that I knew he was making me breakfast because he genuinely wanted to, and it was his way of showing me how much he missed me. Grayson was one of the good ones, and I couldn’t imagine telling him the truth if I didn’t have to.
“How’s Leah? Leanne?”
Grayson snorted. “Lena. And she’s history.”
“What happened? She couldn’t handle dating all your awesomeness?”
Grayson reached up and took two plates from the cabinet that was overhead and started placing the food on the plates. Bacon, waffles, and hash browns, Grayson didn’t screw around when he was making breakfast. But he always did take cooking seriously.
I jumped up and headed towards the fridge for the orange juice. When I brought the carton out, Grayson was already setting two glasses next to our plates. I poured while Grayson sat, and finally answered, “She didn’t think a high school teacher was ambitious enough and kept trying to get me to change my major.”
“Wow. What an asshole,” I said before shoving a fork full of waffles in my mouth.
Grayson shrugged. “It was only three weeks out of my life,” he said. “It wasn’t like it was love.”
“I can totally see her being the type to make you take off your shoes before entering her home,” I grumbled, mad at the unknown tart who thought my brother’s life plan wasn’t good enough.
We ate in silence for a bit before Grayson asked, “And what about you?”
“What about me?” I asked, my mouth still happy with the flavor of bacon I’d just devoured.
My brother regarded me shrewdly. “What’s been going on with you.”
I shrugged. “Nothing,” I lied. “Just…you know, getting ready for graduation.”
“Nothing else?”
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. I looked up at him, and he was still looking at me intently. “Why do you ask?” I set the fork down and eyed him back.
“Mom’s been calling me a lot lately,” he said. “She’s worried about you.”
My surprise was genuine. I’d had no idea that my mom has been calling Grayson with concerns about me. “Why?”
Those blue eyes of his, focused on my face for any signs of lying, narrowed. “She said you seem…out of sorts lately.”
My weight fell against the back of the chair. “Well, of course I’m feeling out of sorts, Grayson. I’m…I’m graduating from high school in two months. Then, after that, I’m heading off to college. It’s a big deal. These huge life changes are a big deal, and…well, maybe I’m feeling anxious. But that’s normal, right?”
Grayson’s face softened as he bought my bullshit hook, line, and sinker. “Of course, it’s normal to feel anxious, Row,” he said. “But you really don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I don’t understand, though.” I shook my head, confused. “Why did Mom call you? Why didn’t she ask me what was wrong?”
“I don’t know, Rowan,” he said. “She just said you seemed sad and preoccupied lately.”
The weight on my chest felt real. All this time I thought I’d been doing a great job of hiding my depressed moods, but first the girls mention they’d been noticing, and now this. Apparently, I wasn’t a good of an actress as I’d been giving myself credit for.
“I’m fine, Grayson,” I said, the lies just coming nicely along. “Just…nervous thoughts.”
He went back to scooping up food on his fork. “Well, have a talk with Mom, will you? Let her know she doesn’t need to worry.”
