Page 88 of You're so Bad

You’re avoiding Shauna, the voice in my head says.

That voice is fucking correct, however Doc hasn’t been entirely asleep on the fake boyfriend gig. Last night, I did some research on where to buy mourning doves. It’s apparently illegal, and since I’m pretty sure my pot dealer doesn’t have a line on illegal birds, I spent half an hour researching how to catch myself some. That’s frowned upon too, obviously, but there’s no end to the messed-up stuff you can find on the internet.

Screwing with the cake is easier. I can give it a donkey kick as they pull me away from the reception. The thought makes me smile, but there’s a burn in my chest when I think about seeing Shauna again. She must be disappointed in me. She’s probably already realized it was a mistake to let me in. That she was right about me all along.

“Hey,” Burke says again.

I take a sip of beer. “Hey.”

He rolls his eyes. “There’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“The weather? The Carolina Panthers? Because I’m gonna be straight with you, man. I’ve done some sports betting back in the day, but I honestly couldn’t give a shit. That right there is a good way to lose money if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve been seeing this therapist. Only for a couple of weeks now, but it’s really helping me. I was wondering if you’d ever think—”

“No,” I say, already shaking my head. “No, man. I don’t want to relive all of that. I can’t.”

“All of what?” he says, raising his eyebrows. There’s a bead of sweat traveling down his forehead because we’ve got no air on in here, only a couple of lousy box fans. We won’t have the air conditioning on until the door’s delivered.

“You know there’s some bad stuff I left behind.”

We’ve danced around this conversation before. In the past, he hasn’t pushed me. I’m hoping today’s not the day he decides to put in his heels.

“I know. But you’re not avoiding it by hanging on to it, buddy.”

“That something the shrink told you?”

“Sure.” He takes a swig of beer. “And she was right. I didn’t even realize how much this stuff with my parents was still weighing on me and holding me back. It’s hard to unteach yourself the lessons life’s taught you. You have to work at it.”

I take a sip of my beer too, my heart hammering, panic gripping me. “There’re some things I could tell you that might make you turn your back on me. I don’t think I could handle that.”

Burke sets his beer down and leans over. He claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “There’s not a thing in this world you could tell me that would make me turn my back on you. You’re my brother. You need to bury a body, I’ll show up with a shovel.” His mouth quirks to one side. “I’m only hoping we don’t need to make that literal.”

I’m shocked to feel tears in my eyes, so I take a minute to choke the emotion down, because I can’t cry. Idon’tcry. The last time I remember crying was when I found Gidget dead. There’s not a damn thing you can do to rewind the clock when it comes to death. Not a damn thing.

“I don’t want to burden you, man,” I say thickly. “You’re getting married. We should be celebrating, not talking about dark, depressing shit. Why don’t we blow the house for the day and go bother Danny? Go out on the town.”

Another excuse to avoid Shauna.

Another excuse to avoid saying what needs to be said.

“Delia hasn’t said yes yet.” He squeezes my shoulder once more before letting go.

“She will. I can see it on her face when you’re together. Yours too.”

“Thanks, man. You’re not burdening me, by the way. I want to know what happened to you, because I want to share your burden…same way you’ve been sharing mine.”

My laughter has an ugly edge to it. “I’m probably the cause of half your problems, bud. If I’d told you everything eight years ago, then—”

“Then I never would have met Delia,” he says pointedly, his blue eyes flashing. “Maybe everything’s happening just the way it was supposed to.”

I force a smile. “She’s got you believing in fate, huh?”

“Maybe. There are worse things than admitting you’re not always the one at the wheel. What happened with your father, Leonard? You’ve told me he was bad news but not much else. What did he do to you?”

I take a deep pull of the beer, my mind torn between two possibilities, two paths.

Tell him. Don’t.

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