Page 44 of One Twisted Lie

“Buthedid. He knew something was wrong.” I wince. “Fuck. Not wrong. Nothing is wrong with you.”

He looks sympathetic. “I know what you meant.”

“We could have helped you so much sooner. If I had just listened, you never would have gone through…” I wave my hands erratically in the air because I don’t want to relive the moment Avery crumbled, and I don’t think he wants to relive it either based on the way his face drops. “I…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says, plopping down on his bed with a sigh. “I have bipolar disorder. I’m not ashamed of it, but it means that sometimes, not even the signs can stop an episode from happening.”

I sniffle. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if I take my medications and go to therapy, I can reduce the chances of causing that type of scene, but it’s never going to go away.”

“How can I help then?” I ask, dropping down next to him, my voice quaking as more tears track down my face. “What can I do?”

He gives me a soft smile, handing me a tissue from his nightstand. “Exactly what you’re doing right now, being hot as fuck in touch with your feelings.”

I roll my eyes as I accept the tissue. “Be serious.”

“I am. Please, don’t feel guilty. You didn’t cause this, and you didn’t make it any worse. What I went through…” He takes a deep breath, eyes closing briefly before he turns to me fully. “The important part is that you’re here now, helping me through this.”

My lip quivers, and I nod. If that’s what he needs—for me to behot as fuckinto my emotions—then that’s what I’ll do. Avery is my friend. He’s loyal and kind and he deserves whatever it is that’ll keep him healthy.

Words that I’ve held at bay come to the surface. “I love you, man.”

It’s still uncomfortable, and it still makes my skin itch, but it’s so much easier to say. It’s actually like taking in a long breath after being unable to breathe. It’s a sweet moment of relief before normalcy returns. It’s like the second your head hits the pillow after a long day. It’s like why haven’t I said this sooner?

“Hey, you’ve finally joined the club and said it,” he points out, illustrating just how overtly affectionate our friend group is with our words. “Look at us. So fucking hot.”

I chuckle through a quiet sob and nod. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I love you too,” he says, squeezing my arm before getting up, stretching his big limbs as he groans. “I’ve got to unpack the rest of this shit. I’ll text in the group chat about dinner?”

I nod. “Seven p.m. per the routine.”

We give each other a bro-clap, something light and fluffy after all the shit I just poured onto him. I leave with my nerves lit and my stomach unsettled. I walk out of Avery’s dorm and run straight into a hard body. I rear back, ready to spew some venom after the emotional moment I just went through, but I relax when I see it’s just Carter.

“What the fuck?” I laugh, punching his shoulder lightly. “Announce yourself next time.”

“I can’t believe it,” he whispers, eyes wide behind his thick glasses. “I really can’t.”

I furrow my brow. “Can’t believe what?”

“You cried. In four years, I haven’t seen you cry once. Not even when we watchedTitanicsophomore year.”

“Because it’s a shitty movie,” I say, ears burning and my heart speeding up. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Yeah, I was. I came to check on Avery, and I heard you, so I stopped,” he admits plainly, still staring at me like he barely knows me.

I snort to try and combat my raging shame. “And you say I’m the asshole.” I walk away from him, fully intent on pretending that none of this ever happened. However, I’m not lucky enough. Carter is on my tail quickly, trying to catch up to me.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, getting ahold of my arm. “It’s okay, Oz. It just shows how much you care about him.”

“Lower your voice,” I hiss, hoping that the one passing student didn’t hear him.

He shakes his head. “Crying is—”

“I didn’t fucking cry!” I shout, cringing when my voice echoes through the hallway. I huff and continue marching toward my dorm. “Shut the fuck up for a second.”

He doesn’t argue as we make our way to my dorm. We enter it, and I make sure to slam the door shut behind me, locking it before I turn to him. I’m embarrassed and ashamed. I thought Carter had seen me at my most vulnerable, but nothing can compare to him actually seeing me cry. It was hard enough to do it in front of Avery, impossible to admit, and it hasn’t even scratched the surface of everything I feel. I’m raw, split open, and I can’t handle it. So, I say the only thing I can think of.

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