Page 50 of Damnation
He seems to go rigid at these words. “It was his,” he answers with a grim expression, looking down at it.
For a few moments, it is totally silent in the room. Then, I get it.
His.
His brother’s.
Nathan’s.
My breath catches. “Oh, I–I didn’t…I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry.”
“Never mind,” he says, downplaying it with a suddenly cool and impersonal voice. “I’m going now; see you later.”
He goes to the door and leaves, dismissing me with air of detachment. He’s sealed up once again in his shell, barricaded behind the walls he builds to keep the world out. And though I’ve struggled in the past to understand why, everything is much clearer to me now.
Thirteen
When I’m alone, I find myself struggling to cope with everything that Thomas has told me. Part of me always knew there was a dark broken place inside of him, but I never imagined it went so deep. I would like to think that his having finally found the strength to tell me about it is a first step toward overcoming that pain and feelings of guilt, but after watching him withdraw into himself again, I’m not so sure. After last night, neither of us brought the subject back up, and I don’t really feel like pushing it any more.
I get rid of my towel and put Thomas’s clothes back on. Then, I text Tiffany to see how she’s doing after our rough night. She answers that, apart from a mild headache, she feels fine. I take the opportunity to ask for another favor: Could she do the move for me? Maybe it’s a cowardly thing to do but, right now, I’m not ready to go back to that house and risk getting into yet another argument with my mother. Besides, even if I wanted to go out, I don’t have anything to wear here. She agrees, so I ask her to fill as many boxes as she can (especially with my books) and bring them over to me.
I psych myself up enough to also call Alex and update him before asking him to give Tiffany a hand. Though skeptical about the new situation between Thomas and me, he doesn’t back out and assures me that they’ll bring my stuff over as soon as possible.
While I wait for reinforcements, I try to make the room a bit morepresentable. I carefully make the bed, collect some of Thomas’s clothes scattered here and there before folding them and putting them in the dresser. Finally, I clean up the bathroom as well. When I finish, I feel particularly satisfied as I admire the shiny results.
After a couple of hours alone, I hear a car horn from the frat’s front yard. Looking out the window, I can see Tiffany parking her Ford Mustang. Both she and Alex get out of the car, pop the trunk, and start unloading boxes. Tiffany, in a short tight black dress and tall rain boots that make her look effortlessly chic, says something to Alex and gestures nervously while he does his best to cover her with his umbrella as she carries the first box in. I slip on my Converse and go downstairs to lend a hand.
“Wow, did Collins paint his bedroom to match his heart?” Tiffany snarks when she enters the room.
“What were you expecting? Butterflies and unicorns?” Alex grins as he sets a box down on the desk and shakes out his wet hair.
It’s a little uncomfortable, hearing her say this. His heart isn’t black; it’s broken. But between those infinite cracks, there’s a light that not everyone gets to see.
“Thomas isn’t that bad,” I say defensively, trying not to take it personally.
“Of course he isn’t. We are talking about the same Thomas Collins who drives you crazy on a daily basis? Right, Ness?” Alex asks, exchanging an amused look with Tiffany as they both take off their muddy shoes.
I drop my box on the floor and stand up, tucking my hair behind my ears as I look my friends in the eyes. “You don’t know him. Not like I know him, and well, I am completely aware that he isn’t the easiest person in the world, but—”
“Hey, retract your claws, tiger,” Alex interrupts, coming over to me. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about him.” He puts an arm around my shoulders, hugging me and kissing my head before ruffling my hair with a jerk of his hand.
“Yes, hun, chill out, we’re just joking. Mostly…” Tiffany says with a smile and a wink.
“I’m chill. It’s just that…trust me, there’s more to it than you know,” I argue, shrugging.
To defuse the sudden tension, I change the subject, and we all end up laughing when I tell them about the morning welcome the frat boys gave me. Trying to sound casual as I unpack a few of my beloved books and put them on an empty shelf above the desk, I ask, “So…did you see my mother?”
They both nod, but only Tiffany answers. “Yeah. It was obvious that she wasn’t expecting us, and she didn’t say a word the whole time.”
“Playing the indifference card,” Alex agrees.
“Exactly. Before we left, though, she did ask me where you were.”
Alarmed, I freeze midair with a book. “And what did you tell her?”
“That you came to stay with me, which is true. I thought it would be better not to update her on subsequent developments.”
“You thought right,” I answer sadly.
