Page 37 of Dating After the End of the World
“A sixty-six percent chance?” His brows knit together. “Sounds more like thirty-three percent, because from what you described of the Nomes, that’s just as bad as becoming a biter.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve never been around a Nome for more than a few minutes, so I don’t know what happens to them. I don’t know if they get better or worse.”
“I don’t think we should tell Helen any of this,” Elaine says. “At least for a little while. It’ll only make it worse for them, knowing Chris had a chance to live.”
“I agree. Let’s keep this to ourselves for the time being.” Dad pulls his lips in.
“Not for too long, though. They need to know they have a chance in case they do get bit,” I add.
They both nod, and Elaine stands and starts collecting empty bowls, stacking them on top of one another before carrying them to the sink. Meredith and Aunt Julie join her in the kitchen.
I turn my attention to Blake. His head hangs slightly forward, shaking back and forth.
“What’s your deal?” I ask.
He meets my gaze, and I notice his face has flushed. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been awfully quiet. Normally you’re Mr. In Charge, and now you’re all clammed up. Stewing in your—”
“Maybe I’m just trying to figure things out!” His raised voice brings the room to a halt.
“Figure what out?”
“Like ... how we had never lost a single person until you showed up here.”
“Are you seriously suggesting it was my fault that fifty biters attacked this place?” My voice raises, matching his. “You’re the one that drove past the bus and didn’t check it out. If you had, you could have warned us, and maybe Chris would still be alive.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Oh, fuck off!” Blake stands quickly, making his chair topple over. He stomps through the kitchen and up the stairs, disappearing before I have a chance to engage with him further.
“Casey, that was uncalled for.” Dad sighs.
I scoff. “What about what he said?”
“You both need to cool it. We’ve got enough problems here without you two at each other’s throats.”
I toss my napkin on the table and push my chair out. “Why don’t you tell your friend that, Dad!”
He calls my name as I leave the kitchen in a huff, stomping up the stairs. I’m so sick of this. It was a mistake coming here.
I enter my bedroom and crawl into my own bed. Blake’s tucked under his covers, facing the wall, pretending like he’s already asleep. My anger is so unsettled from the implication he cast out in front of everyone. It was hard enough to witness what I saw today, and now I’ve got asshole Blake blaming me for Chris’s death just because I showed up ... at my own house. I know if I don’t vent some of this anger, I won’t be able to sleep. And if I can’t sleep, neither will he.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I spit.
Blankets shuffle as he rolls over. “What?”
“You heard me.Whatis your problem?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Well, I do. You just told everyone downstairs it’s my fault that Chris died. How could you say that?” I’m holding back tears as the image of Chris taking his own life plays out before me again. This is what Blake does. It’s what he always does. He makes me the outsider just so he can fit in, and I’m tired of it.
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to put it on you. I—”
“But that’s exactly what you did!”
“I ...” Blake pauses, and for a moment, all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. “I’ve got my own stuff I’m dealing with, so it just came out wrong, that’s all.”
“The only thing you’re dealing with is being an asshole.” I roll onto my side and yank the covers up to my chin. “You haven’t changed at all,” I say under my breath, unsure whether he can hear me, but it doesn’t matter.
