: Chapter 32

Pretty soon after Belly went up to bed, I cleared everybody out and it was just Conrad and me. He was lying facedown on the couch. He’d been lying there since he and Belly came back from the beach. They were both wet and sandy. Belly was wasted, and she’d been crying, I could tell. Her eyes were red. Conrad’s fault—no doubt about that.

People had tracked sand inside and it was all over the floor. There were bottles and cans everywhere, and somebody had sat on the couch in a wet towel, and now the cushion had a big orange spot. I flipped it over. “The house is a wreck,” I said, falling onto the La-Z-Boy. “Dad will freak out if he sees it like this tomorrow.”

Conrad didn’t open his eyes. “Whatever. We’ll clean it in the morning.”

I stared at him, just feeling pissed. I was sick of cleaning up his messes. “It’s gonna take us hours.”

Then he opened his eyes. “You’re the one who invited everybody over.”

He had a point. The party had been my idea. It wasn’t the mess I was pissed about. It was Belly. Him and her, together. It made me sick.

“Your jeans are wet,” I said. “You’re getting sand all over the couch.”

Conrad sat up, rubbed his eyes. “What’s your problem?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to get up, but then I sat back down. “What the hell happened outside with you guys?”

“Nothing.”

“What does that mean, nothing?”

“Nothing means nothing. Just leave it, Jere.”

I hated it when he got like that, all stoic and detached, especially when I was mad. He’d always been like that, but it was more and more these days. When our mom died, he changed. Conrad didn’t give two shits about anything or anyone anymore. I wondered if that included Belly.

I had to know. About him and her, how he really felt, what he was going to do about it. It was the not knowing that killed a guy.

So I asked him flat out. “Do you still like her?”

He stared at me. I’d shocked the hell out of him, I could tell. We’d never talked about her before, not like this. It was probably a good thing that I’d caught him off guard. Maybe he’d tell the truth.

If he said yes, it was over. If he said yes, I would give her up. I could live with that. If it were anyone but Conrad, I’d have tried anyway. I’d have given it one last shot.

Instead of answering the question, he said, “Do you?”

I could feel myself turn red. “I’m not the one who took her to the freaking prom.”

Conrad thought that over and then said, “I only took her because she asked me to.”

“Con. Do you like her or not, man?” I hesitated for about two seconds, and then I just went for it. “Because I do. I like her. I really like her. Do you?”

He didn’t blink, didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

It really pissed me off.

He was full of shit. He liked her. He more than liked her. But he couldn’t admit it, wouldn’t man up. Conrad would never be that guy, the kind of guy Belly needed. Someone who would be there for her, someone she could count on. I could. If she’d let me, I could be that guy.

I was pissed at him, but I had to admit I was relieved, too. No matter how many times he hurt her, I knew that if he wanted her back, she was his. She always had been.

But maybe now that Conrad wasn’t standing in the way, she’d see me there too.