The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

10 - More Than I Expected

Sully's eyebrows slant inward. "Did I say something wrong?"

A wave of guilt crashes over me. All he did was mention my stupid family. That's no reason to jump down his throat. Besides my phone calls to Mom, I've been trying not to think about home, and it all just blew up in my face when I was least expecting it. "No. I'm sorry, I wasn't sure what you meant."

He nods, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. And even worse, I can tell he knows that I know. "I was just curious about your parents, and if you have brothers or sisters."

I can't even look him in the eye, so I focus on the curved streets and the colorful, historic homes with their peaked gables and fancy second floor balconies. "Yes, I have parents. And a little brother named Henry."

Sully lets me off the hook. "How old?"

I roll my shoulders and try to relax, not an easy task after my asshole-ish outburst. "Ten. He's going into middle school this year." But something still gnaws at my stomach. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry about it." Sully smiles, even though I don't deserve it. "Do you not want to talk about your family?"

"No, it's alright." Talking about my brother doesn't hurt. He's the only one at the moment who doesn't make me feel like crying. Despite the occasional sibling rivalry, Henry and I are pretty close. I'm the only person he wanted to snuggle with after Dad left home.

As the sun beats down on us, I gather my hair over one shoulder and fan the back of my neck. "Henry's not bad. Completely obsessed with video games at the moment, but I'd do anything for him."

When Sully laughs, I'm shocked to discover how much I like the sound. It comes from someplace deep, like he's truly enjoying the conversation. "He's a time big gamer, huh?"

I laugh right back. "He thinks so. He even has his own YouTube channel where he posts videos of himself playing. Mom would kill him if she ever found out! He's not supposed to be online like that. One time, he watched three hours straight of horror game walk-throughs and was so freaked out he slept on my bedroom floor for a week! I had to tell my parents we were having an extra-long slumber party."

"Awe. Lying to protect your baby brother so he didn't get into trouble? That's really cool. You sound like a great big sister." For some reason, my insides squirm at that. "I love video games, too. But I'm more of a FIFA fan myself."

A warm breeze lifts my hair. I brush the stray strands from my face. "That's soccer, right?"

"Or football, depending on where you live," he adds, his lips pulling up. "Do you like to game?"

"Not really." I push my hands into my pockets and smile. "Okay, tell me about you now. Do you have brothers or sisters?"

Unease shadows his face, something I wasn't expecting. "An older brother."

"Oh." I try to read his expression but can't. "Is he still in high school?"

He shakes his head. "He went to the University of Maryland on a soccer scholarship, but he—" The muscles twitch in his neck. "He passed away last year."

My stomach drops out from underneath me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." Sully gives me a half-smile that doesn't even come close to reaching his eyes. "I wasn't sure if Hartley mentioned him or not."

She didn't. The blood drains from my face. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I know." He pauses, and I'm not sure if he'll continue, but he does. "It happened last year. He was supposed to come home the next day for summer vacation, but his roommate found him unconscious in bed."

Before I'm able to catch myself, the words are already out of my mouth. "Do they know what happened to him?"

Sully stares down at Oscar, who's still trotting along between us. "Heroine," he says through gritted teeth. "He still had the needle in his arm. The paramedics gave him something to reverse the effect, but it was too late."

The more his words sink in, the more I feel like a total ass. Sully's brother died from an overdose, and I didn't want to tell him about my dad or the fact that I'm dyslexic because it all felt too personal to share. How could I be so shallow? Those are such small problems compared to what he just divulged.

Even in the heat, a chill races up my arms. "I'm sorry, Sully. That's horrible."

A strange sort of quiet stretches between us before he speaks again. "It's not fair, you know? One day I had a brother, and the next day I didn't. And all because of something so pointless. People who do drugs are selfish. They don't even care about what it does to their family and friends."

His voice catches and it snags my heart. Without thinking, I reach over and touch his arm. "It's not fair. But I think addiction is a disease, you know? He didn't mean to hurt you."

"Sawyer was a good guy," he continues, his eyes once again finding mine. I'm not even sure if he heard what I said. "He was the best player on his soccer team and had a 3.8 grade point average. He wasn't some junky like what you see on those reality cop shows."

"Of course he wasn't." There's so much more I want to say, but no matter how carefully I choose my words I know they'll feel small and insignificant.

He takes a jagged breath and squints off into the distance. "I just keep wondering, if he'd already been home, would it still have happened?"

It's not a question he wants me to answer. So instead of responding, I hold my breath and wait for him to go on.

"This probably sounds crazy, but sometimes when I'm home alone ... I feel like he's there, watching me."

A gasp explodes inside of me. "I'm sure that's natural," I finally say. "You're so used to having him around, your brain defaults to when he was."

He shakes his head and pushes a hand through his golden mop of hair. "Weird, huh?"

"You miss him. That's allowed."

I swallow around the lump of emotion in my throat. I'm not sure what else to say and before I can think of something fitting, the moment passes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get all serious on you."

My attempt at smiling falls short. "It's okay. Really. It was my fault for asking in the first place."

"Hey ..." He stops walking and turns to face me. Oscar sits panting at our feet. "I practically begged you to tell me something about your life. It's only fair you ask about mine. That's what this pre-date is all about, right? Getting to know each other?"

I'm about to answer when my cell phone vibrates in the pocket of my sundress. Without thinking, I pull it out and read the text. "It's Hartley," I tell him.

"What's it say?"

Tiny pricks shoot up my spine and over race over my scalp. My eyes scan over the message before meeting his. "We need to get home. There's an emergency."