Page 73 of Fall for Me

“Fuck no. Tell me the truth, Seamus. Are you and my sister, you know…” he waved his hands around. “Fucking?”

“No!” Both Seamus and I said at once.

Eli laughed, a hard bark. There wasn’t a glimpse of his wide, easy grin. I hadn’t seen that in a while, I realized. “At least you have your stories straight.”

“Eli,” Seamus said. I could feel him tense beside me.

“You said you’d look out for her, man,” Eli said, just as tense.

He spoke like I wasn’t even there. Anger ripped through me. “I’m not a child, Eli,” I said, louder than I’d expected. “You—everyone—you always treat me like I don’t know how to handle myself.”

“Because you fucking don’t!” Eli shouted. “You’re going to burn through him like you do every other guy and—”

“That’s enough,” Seamus said. His voice was like steel.

But Eli wasn’t through. “It’s true. She eats them up and spits them out, don’t you, Chelsea? You going to do that to my best friend?”

I was so stunned, my stomach roiling, that I had no words. Because he was right—everything he was saying was true. “No,” I whispered.

“Eli, you need to go,” Seamus said. He strode over to my brother, leaving my side for the first time. I felt scared; alone, without him there.

“Get the fuck out, Eli.”

They were standing nose to nose now, and fear rocketed through me. I could see Eli’s face, etched with pain. Possibly close to tears, which for Eli meant he was about to lose it. Seamus could hold his own, I knew, but I’d never seen them fight like this. And I was the one responsible.

Winona, who I’d almost forgotten about, grabbed Eli’s arm. “Let’s go Eli, come on. I’ll drive.”

But Eli shrugged his arm from hers. When he lifted his fist, I screamed. “Eli!”

But he didn’t throw the punch at Seamus. He whirled around and threw it behind him, at the wall, driving his fist right through the plaster with a sickening thud.

Chunks of drywall crumbled to the floor. Winona had gone white, her hands over her ears. She looked like she was shaking. Then she took off down the hall.

“Fuck,” Seamus said, sprinting after her.

Eli and I were left standing in Seamus’s kitchen, Eli slumped now, his knuckles bleeding.

“Eli,” I whispered.

But he shook his head. “I don’t even blame you, Chelsea. You can’t change who you are. It’s Seamus.”

The hurt barely touched me—I could feel myself shutting down. “Nothing happened between us. Not really.”

“I’m not an idiot. I see the way he looks at you. The way he stood by your side as if you needed protection just now from...” Eli raised his arms up, curling his fists against his forehead.

He was distraught. I could see that, and I should have gone to him, but it was as if I was watching from outside my body. I used to do that as a kid, disappear out of myself when things got too scary or loud.

Eli could see it on my face. He dropped his arms. “I’m sorry Chelsea.” Then he spun, disappearing down the hallway.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. Outside, a car engine turned on, then jerked out of the driveway in a rough spit of gravel. Another one followed.

I needed to go, too. I grabbed my coat. I had a wool cap I’d shoved in the pocket, and I pulled that over my head as I strode out the open door into the frigid night.

Seamus was standing in his driveway, his hands pressed against his head.

Everything flooded in then, all the feelings I’d been trying to keep out of my head. Pain at hurting Eli. Pain at what he’d said. How much my chest hurt when I looked at Seamus, even just his back. How much I wanted him, and how scared I was I’d turn that off and run away like I always did.

When Seamus turned around, I sucked in a breath. Then I went past him without a word, walking fast to my car.

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