“Yep, get it over with, buddy. Just spit it on out there.”
My encouragement made him smile, and I found myself walking over to him and sitting on the other corner of the bed. He turned, placing one leg up on the mattress, while the other stayed on the floor. When he began to speak, he looked straight at me, and I admired his courage. He might be ashamed, but he wasn’t hiding from it. Something about that made me soften to him more, wanting to believe him despite what it could mean for me. It was also a good example of not hiding from the truth. I admired him for it.
“Well, when I was about 17, I was desperate to understand Slade. At that point, we hadn’t been getting along for over a year. The last move had been hard on him. It was probably the sixth move we’d made since our mom had died, and I think he’d been writing to you for about a year. Your letters were one of the only things he seemed to enjoy. I know Slade blamed himself for her death. He felt guilty for telling Dad what he’d seen, placing the guilt on himself for the divorce,” Zane disclosed, stopping for a moment to take a deep breath before restarting. I was transfixed as he spoke, hanging on every word.
“Life became difficult, and we were passed off between one parent to the next, but we at least had each other. Slade withdrew, and became so angry at Mom. He didn't even talk to her for a few months. I don’t remember how long it was after the divorce when mom was diagnosed with cancer, but it changed something in Slade. He became her constant companion and would always make sure she was okay. He drew her special pictures for chemo days and made her special snacks.”
“Why is the thought of prepubescent Slade making snacks so cute?” I mumbled, blushing when I realized he’d heard me. Thankfully, Zane only smiled before continuing again.
“He was the one with her… when she died. I had a baseball game, and Slade and I had fought before it about whether or not I should go. But Mom told me to play, and get her a home run. I was 12, I didn’t really understand everything, and sports were more fun. At home, it had become sad, and I felt bad I couldn’t do anything. Our dad’s house wasn’t much better. He’d buried himself in work, avoiding his own feelings. Slade became a nervous wreck anytime we were away for long periods. In a way, he’d taken on her sickness, carrying the burden of care and recovery as his job. Part of me was jealous of their connection. I’d always connected more with dad anyway with us both liking sports, and Slade had with mom, getting her artsy gene.”
I scooted closer, turning in the same manner as Zane with one leg propped on the bed as I listened. It felt like getting insider information into someone I’d known forever. Zane smiled at me, but kept talking. Once he’d started, it seemed to want to flow out of him, only needing a listener.
“Being a twin is weird, and while there were a lot of benefits like having a best friend around all the time, it was odd in the sense you didn’t always know who you were, a single entity or a double partnership. This was the first time in our lives we weren’t in sync on something, and I felt invisible. At least at dad’s house, we could focus on me. It sounds so awful to say it out loud, but that was the case. I liked being adored.”
He took a minute, blowing out a breath, and I found myself unconsciously reaching out a hand to him. Zane’s emotions were tangible, and I could feel his grief as he recalled these memories. It spoke to something inside of me, calling me to comfort him. Zane effortlessly took my hand, squeezing it, and the connection I’d felt years ago sparked to life.
“When I was dropped off home after the game, there was chaos all around our house. Lights flashed from nearby ambulances and a police car. Running toward the house, I found Slade sitting there, on the porch, staring off into space. He had one of those shock blankets wrapped around him. I ran to him, dropping my mitt and bat on the ground as I fell to the concrete, grasping his knees in my hands. I yelled to get his attention, but it took me shaking his legs for Slade to finally look at me. I’ll never forget the words he said to me.‘She’s gone. Hope your game was worth never getting to say goodbye to your mother.’ I remember falling back in shock, the news and pain at that moment hit me square in the chest. I cried and screamed at him to tell me it wasn’t true, that it was a sick joke, but he’d entered back into the zoned-out state, ignoring me. Dad showed up then, his grief written all over his face, and I knew, I knew right then I couldn’t fall apart because they both needed someone to be strong. During the divorce, we’d been cast into roles, and I bore mine like a coat of armor, accepting my fate. Part of me liked it, being the one to be the peacekeeper, the one who had it all together.”
“But you were twelve! You should’ve been allowed to grieve your mom.”
“I know that now, Noxy girl, but at the time, it was how I managed.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time, though he seemed comforted by my ire at what he’d experienced. I couldn’t imagine losing my mom at that young age, and I grieved for him and Slade. Some of my Tatzilla’s flaws made sense now, his hesitancy to commit, his fear of losing people.
Thinking over his words, something about one of the familiar endearments Blaze used had slid off his tongue, tugging at my memory. When he started to talk again, I let it go, focusing on Zane in front of me.
“The hard part was, I’d stepped so far into that role, I lost who I was along the way, and it destroyed my connection to my brother. Being the good child, the peacekeeper, pushed us further apart. It was too late by the time I realized the divide my actions had created. So, by our senior year, we were practically strangers, barely speaking to one another. I missed my brother so much. On the outside, it looked like I had all these friends, the life of the party, and good grades, but I was disappearing inside. I’d become this fake person. I thought if I could maybe connect with my twin again, the other half of me, then maybe I’d remember who I was. But no matter my intention of why I did what I did, it doesn’t excuse it. I know that. I’m not trying to make excuses, I’m just hoping if you understood why I did it, the desperation I felt, it might not sound as creepy.”
“Okay.” I nodded in response, because I got it. I’d hidden behind my rock for years, pretending the pain I felt at the loss of Duncan, and even Blaze, wasn’t there. I’d convinced myself it hadn’t hurt, when in reality, it had felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest and left beating on the sidewalk. That kind of pain didn’t disappear just because I ignored it.
“So, like I mentioned at the start, he’d been writing to you for a couple of years by our senior year. I knew of it, but I hadn’t paid attention. He was so consumed with his notebook, though, so I decided to look in it one day. I wanted a peek into his mind. We used to be so in sync, I knew everything he felt and thought before he even did, but back then, he’d become a separate entity apart from me. So, when he was gone one day, I found myself in his room, and I looked at his notebook. It had his drawings in there, and they did give me some insight into him. His talent had improved exponentially, and I was in awe. But at the back were your letters.”
He stopped, watching me carefully. My eyes widened, and I had a feeling where this was headed, and I found myself believing Zane and Slade’s version of things. Preparing myself, I swallowed, nodding for him to continue.
“I read them. I hadn’t intended to, but you jumped off the page, and I felt your radiance in your words. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. There were some from Fish too, but it was your letters that had me reading them late into the night. His letters weren’t there, but I was jealous of how easy it seemed he shared with you, this person who was a complete stranger. I justified reading them as a way to verify you weren’t taking advantage of him or something.”
I rolled my eyes at his thought process but kept my words to myself. Zane saw me however, and chuckled. It brought attention to his hand that had started to rub back and forth on mine. Tingles spread up my arm, and I told myself to focus back on what he was admitting. He’d violated mine and Slade’s trust. The breach of privacy stung, and I pulled my hand back. It had felt nice, but Zane didn’t need comfort any longer, and I couldn’t justify holding his hand any more either. Not to mention the sensations confused me, altering my feelings. His smile dropped at the edges, but he let go.
My hand instantly missed his touch, and I didn’t like that.
“That’s a pretty huge violation,” I stated, the words finally finding an outlet.
“I’m afraid it gets worse.” Sighing, I braced myself, ready to hear it. “At first, I only read your letters. I feel like such a stalker when I say it out loud,” he admonished himself with a shake of his head. “But at the time, I didn’t think about it that way. I didn’t think I was doing anything bad.”
“Oh, so invading privacy isn’t bad?” I didn’t know why I asked, but my heart was racing by then. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but nothing he said painted him in a good light, especially with everything I knew now with the mixup the night Slade and I were to meet. If he was Thane, had he done it? And if he was Thane, then who was the person I knew as Thane? Neither scenario had a good outcome for me, and it was overwhelming to me to think about it.
“I know, I know. I realize that now. And while it doesn’t excuse it, I really wanted to get to know my brother through you. Somewhere along the line, it became less about him and more aboutyou.”
“The night we met?” I asked, my voice in my throat. I didn’t want one of the best memories to be tainted by secrecy.
“I had no idea who you were. I promise. It happened randomly. It was one of those lucky coincidences.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You read my letters meant for your brother. Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like the next part even more?” He cringed, and my stomach plummeted.
“When I discovered you guys were going to start emailing, I saw my chance. I could get to know you on a real level. So… I started writing to you.”
“Youwrote to me?”
“Yeah. I had to be careful and sneaky. Again, another clue I should’ve known it was wrong if I had to hide it, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I only thought of my desires and what I wanted was to get to know you.”