Page 157 of Resurrection
A dull, empty plea.
I swept my hand across the ground one last time. My fingers grazed the metal, caught the smooth edge of it.
It slipped against my skin, small and familiar and almost lost. I pulled it to my chest, cradling it in my fist.
I stayed there on the ground, clutching the tiny promise, unable to put it back on but equally unable to leave it behind.
35TYLER
We’ve been stuckin this classroom for what seems like an entire night.
We are ghosts in an old house. Here, the past is haunting us ruthlessly. Not just the man with the rifle whom we hardly know, but our own mistakes too.
Next to me, Naomi’s tense and silent.
I want to explain myself, to explain why I’ve kept that dumb kiss with Adri a secret, but her rigid posture says it all: she doesn’t trust me or her brother. Not after what we did to her.
"The truth. All of it. Right now," she finally whispers with determination. Her eyes burn through me, daring me. "Or I swear I'll never speak to either of you again." She shifts her gaze to Adri for a second, then back to me.
I don't know what to say. I don't know where to start. The silence is thick. I feel it crawling up my skin. My voice is a stranger when it finally comes. "Nomes?—"
"Tell me," she demands. "Did you actually like my brother?" Her words are sharp, a slap, a reminder that I'm one step from losing everything again. Her eyes are a warning, and I realize I can't keep quiet. Not this time.
I swallow. "I didn't," I say in a rush. "I never felt that way about him." My eyes find Adri’s, as if I’m apologizing for not liking him back then, for not reciprocating his teenage crush, as if it’s my fault. "I had no idea, Nomes," I continue. "I was blindsided when he kissed me. I thought he just liked me as a friend. I didn’t know he was into guys."
"I didn’t know I was into guys either, asshole," Adri grumbles. "Until your ass showed up."
Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she turns to her brother. "You." Shepoints a finger at him. "Did you do it because you liked Ty or because Ty liked me?"
Adri flinches. It’s hardly noticeable, but it’s there. Then he nods, barely. "I was jealous, okay? I met him first. I thought I had dibs."
She looks at him in disbelief.
Adri's shoulders slump, his usual arrogance gone. "You happy now, Shrimp? I hated that he liked you and didn’t like me. I hated that you were going to give up everything for him. I didn’t want you to regret anything. It was my way of protecting you."
It's the smallest I've ever seen him. He was always larger than life, filling the room with his anger and stubbornness, but now he's just a man who coveted something he couldn't have.
I want to yell, to punch, to run, to make him understand that everything was wrong. Everything was a lie. My life, my dreams, my future—all of it. All of it twisted and torn and gone because he was a selfish bastard who thought he owned us. "Seventeen years, Adri. You couldn't just let us be happy?"
Naomi watches us, her face unreadable, a tight, trembling line between anger and tears. "So that's it," she says. "That's what I've been to you both? A stupid, pathetic pawn in your sick little game?"
"Never," I say, the word breaking through before I can stop it. "Never that, Nomes."
She shakes her head, her mouth a thin, furious line. "You left," she tells me. "And you," she snaps at Adri. "You just couldn't handle that someone might want me instead of you."
His eyes meet hers, defiant and fragile all at once. "I'm sorry. Okay?"
"I never meant to hurt you, Nomes," I whisper, grabbing her hand. This time, she lets me hold it.
She looks at me, then back at him. "You're both sorry?" she asks. "And that makes it okay? Seventeen years, Adri. Do you even know how to apologize properly, or do you have to make Ty do it for you too?"
He's silent for a long moment. "I'm sorry," he says again, and this time, his voice cracks like a boy's. "I thought— I'm sorry, Naomi. I thought I was doing the right thing."
His eyes are the darkest I've ever seen them.
"Is that supposed to make it better?" she whispers.
"I messed it all up," he admits. He stares at the wall, at the floor, anywhere but at me. "I can't make it right. I want to, but I don’t know how. It’s too late anyway."
