Page 28 of Unloved

Words refuse to come together, as I try to process his compliments and my body’s reactions to them. Instead, I smile and open the car door, choosing to end the night in a good place.

“Thank you for driving me home,” I say.

“Any time.”

I climb out of the car, and just as I close the door, Samuel rolls the window down and calls my name. “Rhys.”

“Yeah?”

“Before. You asked me why my mom was over-compensating.”

Interested, I lower my head into the car and lean on the window. “Yeah?”

I should tell him he doesn’t owe me anything and his secrets are his, but after the relief on his face when he admitted to being in love with Samuel, I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t the first of many secrets he’s bottling up inside.

With his hands firm on the wheel, I know he has every intention of driving away as soon as the words leave his mouth.

I move away from the car, giving him the getaway opportunity he desires.

“She does it because she’s a single mom,” he says. “My dad committed suicide when I was ten.”

10

SAMUEL

Idon’t know what possessed me to tell Rhys about my dad, but I’d been thinking about dropping the bomb and driving off ever since. It wasn’t entirely fair to leave him with that information and no explanation, but after he’d shared so much of himself, I felt compelled to do the same.

No… compelled isn’t the right word.

I felt comfortable.

I felt comfortable enough with him to share things I have only ever told Lennox. And even the things I haven’t. There is something about being in his presence that makes me feel settled, almost like he calms people down without even trying.

It’s been a week since the night at the hospital, and with Lennox now temporarily living with Frankie, life for all of us, in one way or another, has resumed. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is for life to pick right back up after tragedy.

Your heart could break.

Your life could change.

Your dad could die.

And yet everything just keeps on going.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?”

Lennox’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I glance over at him in the passenger seat. It’s obviously harder for us to talk this way, but we’re improvising. I bring up Lennox’s name on my car display and use the talk-to-text feature.

“Did Rhys agree to teach you sign language?”

It isn’texactlywhat I was thinking about, but it’s a variation of my thought process over the last few days. Technology works its magic and Lennox reads his message.

“You mean teachussign language?” he corrects

I shrug, because it doesn’t really matter who Rhys is teaching, I’m not leaving Lennox’s side anyway.

“What did you think of him?” Lennox asks, but instead of waiting for me to answer, he keeps talking. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what he told us about his sister. These four years without Frankie… I just can’t imagine how much he misses her.”

That urge to check in with Rhys again sits in my stomach like a boulder. The three of us had exchanged a few texts over the last three days, but it was just pleasantries, a stark difference to the night we all met. I use the talk-to-text function again.

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