This is What Goodbye Looks Like (30 page)

Brie hangs on to my every word, interrupting every few sentences to blurt out, “I
told
you that you’d be perfect together!”

Her excitement seems genuine, which is actually a little surprising. Her lack of a boyfriend has always seemed strange to me—Brie could probably attract any guy within a fifty-mile radius. I’d kind of suspected she might be hiding feelings for Seth, but I guess I was completely wrong. Whatever keeps her from dating, it has nothing to do with him.

Which is good. Really good. I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I hurt someone as sweet as Brie.

When I finish my retelling of the evening, she suddenly points an accusing finger at my mouth. “You’re smiling.”

I reach up and touch my lips, surprised to find she’s right.

Brie gives me a smug look. “I
told
you you’d be perfect for each other.”

I wipe at my mouth a little. “You keep saying that.”

“And how many times did I have to say it before you actually took my advice and went out? Like fifty thousand?” She rolls her eyes. “Let me have my moment to gloat, okay?”

I laugh a little and then nod to her. “So how about you?”

“What about me?” she asks, drawing up her feet on the bed and sitting cross-legged.

“We saw Nathan tonight, and he asked about you.”

A blush colors her cheeks. “He did?”

“Yeah. And, I mean, you obviously really like the guy, and he obviously really likes you, so...” I raise an eyebrow. “Why not go for it?”

Her carefree smile instantly falls from her face, and she turns away from me, although her wide eyes don’t really seem to be focusing on anything.

“Brie?”

She flinches at the sound of her name, then blinks a few times, like she’s trying to clear her head. “Yeah. I mean no. I mean...it’s silly, okay? How I feel about him. It’d just never work out between us. I don’t know why I even bother flirting with him at all. It’d never work. It just...wouldn’t.”

Brie hops down from the bed the moment she finishes her stilted explanation and then waves a hand toward the desk. “Look, I’ve got some homework I need to do, okay?”

I open my mouth to apologize for upsetting her, but before I get the chance, she quickly cuts me off and says, “Look, I’m happy you’re going out with Seth. Really, I am. He needs a nice girl right now.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, but she doesn’t sound happy at all. I have no idea what I said to upset her, but she keeps rubbing at her arms, like she’s fighting off chills. She slumps into the chair at the desk, picking absently at the corner of one of her notebooks.

“Brie?” I say hesitantly.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

She turns and looks straight at me, but I don’t think her glassy eyes really register that I’m there. “Of course. I’m totally fine.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The morning after our date, Seth doesn’t show up at breakfast. At first it’s not surprising, since he’s late to everything. But by the time the others have finished eating, and I’ve finished picking at my cinnamon roll, I’m concerned. Landon stumbles into the cafeteria wearing bed-head and a grumpy scowl, and I ask him where his roommate went to. Landon just grunts something about the library as he groggily stabs his waffle with a spoon. Maddie rolls her eyes at me from across the table.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” she says. “He’s probably just cramming for that World Lit test.”

I nod and go along with it, although I know it’s not true. Seth is a morning person, and since he has a sickening habit of actually enjoying the early hours of the day, he rarely fills them with studying. I’ve never seen him crack open a book before noon.

The rest of the day passes slowly, like every clock on campus is just as frozen as the ground outside. I crank out an essay for my Government class, and then I spend a few hours on my laptop editing some pictures for the photo project. When I still haven’t heard from Seth by the afternoon, I send him a text asking if he’s alright. He doesn’t respond.

Guilt gnaws at me as my fears from the first few weeks at Harting return: Does he know who I am? Could he have somehow found out? Does he despise me now?

I manage to spend another hour in my dorm, but then I’m just too antsy to stay there any longer. I grab my cane from the corner of my room and head for Seth’s dorm. If he’s figured out who I am, and if that’s what he’s upset about, then I at least owe him an in-person apology.

Getting inside the boys’ dorm is more difficult this time, because it’s broad daylight and more people are around. But then I spot Cameron, and he helps to quickly usher me inside, allowing me to sneak in without getting caught. I ask him what’s wrong with Seth, but he just shrugs and says he hasn’t seen him all day.

I head down the hall and knock hesitantly at Seth’s door. When no one answers, I knock again, and a few seconds later, he snaps, “Go away!”

I almost do. But then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I whirl around to find Landon standing behind me, holding a plastic bag in one hand. He pounds his fist once against the door. “Dude, you’ve got a pretty girl and some drinks waiting to come inside. Now open up!”

I glance up and down the hallway, waiting for some siren to go off at the words “girl” and “drinks.” But we’re the only ones in the hall, and it’s silent except for some really terrible seventies rock coming from a few doors down.

“Our dorm supervisor is out for the afternoon,” Landon says to me in a quieter voice, reading the worry on my face. He doesn’t wait for me to reply before hitting the door again. “Come on, man. Open up.”

Seth’s reply is low and strained. “Screw off, Landon. I told you, I am seriously not in the mood to drink right now.”

Landon rolls his eyes. “The beer is for me, dipshit. I’m not going to survive your complaining otherwise.”

Footsteps storm toward the door, and Seth yanks it open, looking like his face just got attacked by a thundercloud. The room is dim inside, and he’s not wearing his sunglasses, which lets me see that his eyes are red and rimmed with dark bags.

“I told you I wanted some time alone,” he snaps. “So do me a favor and look up the definition of ‘alone.’ Or I can just slap you with a dictionary, and you can learn that way.”

“Uh, dude,” Landon says, pointing a finger at me even though Seth can’t see it. “Did you not hear the part where I said there’s a pretty girl out here, too?”

“Hi,” I squeak.

It’s like my voice flips a switch or something. But instead of riling up his anger, Seth suddenly looks relieved and lost and sad and a whole bunch of other emotions I don’t understand.

“Lea,” he murmurs.

“Yeah. Look, Seth, I’m...I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what else to say.”

His scowl is suddenly back in place, and he turns toward Landon. “You told her what happened? I said not to tell anyone.”

Tell me? Why would he need to tell anything to me? Unless...maybe I’m not the person he’s upset with. He seems more pissed at Landon than he is with me, so maybe whatever happened isn’t totally my fault. Or maybe not my fault at all.

“Landon didn’t tell me,” I say quickly. “You’re just acting strange, so I figured something bad happened.”

Seth nods sharply. “Yeah. It did.” He suddenly heaves a sigh and takes a step back, motioning for us to come inside. “Landon, I changed my mind. Give me a beer.”

I hesitantly walk inside their dorm room, which is even more cluttered than it was last time. Landon kicks a bunch of his dirty clothes out of my way and says, “You can take the fuzzy chair.” He points to a beanbag in the corner that’s covered in thick, shaggy fabric.

“Don’t be an idiot, Landon,” Seth snaps. “She has a busted knee, she can’t just hop down there and back up.”

Landon’s face turns bright red, and I place a hand on his forearm to tell him it’s alright.

“I’ll just sit on the bed, if that’s okay,” I say.

“Go for it,” Landon mumbles, and then he goes and collapses on the beanbag chair himself.

I sit on the end of Seth’s bed by the door, and Seth just stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. Koda’s curled up at my feet on her doggy bed, and she stares up at her owner with sad eyes.

“What happened?” I ask.

Seth pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “My parents called last night. They’re getting divorced. Officially. They’ve talked about it a couple times, but I thought it was just that. Talk. Angry ranting. I never thought they’d actually do it.”

I think of the family I saw during the trial—always leaning on each other for comfort, always supporting each other. And then the picture Seth’s painted of them before Parker’s death—close knit, caring, loving.

Now all of it’s as dead as Parker.

“I’m so, so sorry.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, and I swallow hard, trying to keep back tears.

“Your mom will calm down,” Landon says as he pulls two beers out of the bag and cracks them open. “Seriously, man, quit freaking out. My mom has done this before. Pull out the ‘d’ word, and suddenly my dad will do whatever she wants. It’s just a manipulation tactic.” He stands up and walks over to Seth, pressing the drink into his hand. “It sucks, but it’ll blow over. Trust me.”

Seth shakes his head, takes a sip of the beer, and grimaces. He sets it on his nightstand before saying, “It’s not my mom who wants the divorce.”

Landon freezes with his own drink half-way to his lips. Then he slowly lowers it and says, “Your dad is asking for it?”

“Yeah,” Seth says, and his shoulders slump with defeat.

“Why does that change anything?” I ask. “I mean, he’s probably just doing the exact same thing. Using it as leverage.”

Seth bites his lip and goes silent.

Landon shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. “Seth’s dad is more...serious.”

“He wouldn’t do anything like that,” Seth says, his voice hoarse. “He never says anything unless he means it.” Seth swallows hard. “And he means it. He told me flat-out that he wasn’t backing down about it. He’s already filed the paperwork and everything.”

“He can still take it back!” My voice is too high and too frantic, and I know I probably seem crazy for sounding so upset, but I can’t help it.

Seth shakes his head, and this time it’s a slow, defeated motion. “No. He’s done with all the arguing. They’re both done.”

Silence creeps over us, blanketing the conversation with an awkward gloom. Seth backs up and sits heavily on the edge of his bed, letting his head fall into his hands. Landon stands up and eyes the door, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. He looks at me, clearly hoping I’ll take over the conversation, but I have no idea what to say, either. I don’t even know if staying here is the right thing to do.

“Umm...” Landon can’t seem to think of anything reassuring to say, so he just mumbles, “I’ll give you that alone time, dude. Call me when you want me to come back. And don’t let that beer go to waste, okay?”

Seth just nods, and Landon heads out the door. Then Seth lets out a sharp sigh and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You should go, too,” he says to me. “I don’t want you around when I’m so pissed. I’m acting like an asshole.”

I ignore him and reach over to wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur into his shoulder. “So, so sorry. You have no idea.”

He hugs me back so fiercely, it makes me gasp. He stays like that for a few seconds, and then he pulls me into his lap and presses his face against my neck. We lean into each other, and I feel a hot tear hit my shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmur, smoothing his hair.

“They’ve always been together.” He sounds defensive, but I don’t think I’m the one he’s actually trying to argue with. “Always. How can they just throw that away? They’ve already lost Parker. They can’t just get rid of each other, too.”

“Seth, you know this is normal, right? People usually divorce if they lose a kid.”

As I say the words, I can’t help but wonder if this will be my parents in a few months. Somehow, I doubt it. Since the accident, Mom has completely handed Dad control of practically everything in their lives, and I don’t think either of them are interested in changing that arrangement.

Seth shakes his head a little. “They’re not like other people. Their relationship was better than that.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he says in a shaky voice, “My dad always said he’d do everything he could to stay with my mom, no matter what. And now he’s shoving her away. So what’s that supposed to say about me? I mean, he’s changed so much, and my mom’s changed so much, and that must mean I’ve changed, too. I know I have. But I always thought surviving bad things was supposed to make people stronger, and it’s obviously just tearing us apart, and—”

I press a finger against his lips, cutting him off. “I’m sure you’re different. You’d be crazy not to be. But that doesn’t mean you’re any worse.”

“Everyone else is,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “So why not me?”

“Think of grief as some sort of disease,” I murmur. “It ruins a lot of people, but other people learn to co-exist with it, and they build an immunity and get stronger because of it.”