She snorted. "Forbid? What is this? The eighteen hundreds? Besides, you really think anyone can stop us from seeing each other?"
I pulled back and watched as her face searched mine, waiting for an answer. I wanted to tell her that they could. That I respected Ethan enough that if he said we couldn't, then I wouldn't. But I couldn't lie to her. "Truth?"
"No," she answered. "Lie to me."
"I don't think anything, or anyone, is ever going to keep me away from you. I love you way too much. You're my heart, my world, my light."
***
Amanda was right. Whatever Ethan had in the flask was killer, but it did wear off quick enough. By the time we'd gotten home, my body was still numb, but my mind was sobering up. It was the same for all of us, which meant only one thing.
Beers in the backyard.
The girls stayed inside, something about catching up on TV. I heard them giggling about some guy who got cast in that Fifty Shades movie. Whatever.
Half an hour later, we were a mess again.
"I can't believe the shit Amanda said last night." Ethan's cap was pulled low on his head as he eyed the night sky.
"What part?" Tristan asked.
I sat up and waited for Ethan to speak.
"That shit—you know, how she blames herself for what happened that night."
I kicked my legs out in front of me. "I know, right? Like it's anyone's fault but mine."
"Psshh," he replied. "Dude, it's not your fault, either."
My eyes narrowed at him. "How is it not—"
"You know what I think?" Tristan cut in, putting his finger up in the air like he was preparing to enlighten us with a piece of wisdom. "I think it's human nature to blame yourself. When things fuck up in life, you always want to find a reason for it. There has to be a reason, right? Bad things don't just happen, especially to good people.
"So we sit around and try to make sense of it all, and the only sense we can make is that we probably deserved it, so we make up these ideas in our heads." He linked his fingers behind his head and stretched out. "Like, maybe if I didn't eat that cookie when we were thirteen that caused your best friends to fight for months, then maybe I wouldn't have turned out gay." I didn't miss the knowing look he gave Ethan before continuing. "Like that night—for months I blamed myself, too."
"What?" Ethan asked.
I just sat there and let his words sink in.
"Yeah, remember how I asked the cab driver to pull over so I could take a piss? What would've happened if I didn't? Maybe we would've got here on time, maybe the same time as them. It could've all been prevented."
"That's stupid," I said.
He shrugged. "About as stupid as you thinking that you being related to assholes is your fault."
"Agreed." Ethan raised his beer.
"Wait." I turned to Ethan. "You don't think it's my fault? The shit that happened that night? You're pissed at me. There must be a part of you that blames me."
He shook his head and looked me like I was stupid. "I never blamed you for that night. I'm pissed because you left. I mean—I'm sure you have your reasons, but to me—you took the pussy way out. It's not just that you left Amanda, but you and me—we were friends, we were housemates, we saw each other every day. When you left her, you left me, too.
"And it's not just about me having to take care of her, dealing with her crying about missing you, or her being scared or whatever. I'm pissed at you because you should've been there, too. You should've been the one to help her heal. I didn't know what to do half the time. And I was bitter as fuck because I knew you'd know what to do. You always knew what to do with her. Fuck's sake, you got her to quit being afraid of the rain. I'd been trying for years, and then you show up and make it all better. You could've made it all better for her, and I didn't know how to. That's why I was pissed.
"Then one day I open the mailbox, and there's a letter from you—and I could tell straight away, just from the look on her face, that she was still in love with you. That pissed me off more. And then you come back and she just forgives you, like she forgot all the shit you put her through . . . but I get it now. Lexi talked to me about it last night. Dimmy—she doesn't see it that way. She doesn't blame you for any of it—even the leaving part. And I get it. She remembers things differently. While I was trying to get her to stop crying from missing you—she was doing exactly that—just missing you. When I thought she was having nightmares about what those assholes did to her—truth is—she was dreaming about what they did to you. We experienced things differently. She's crazy, stupid in love with you, and I wouldn't have understood it, not until I started dating Lexi. Now I'm crazy, stupid in love with her, and it all kind of makes sense."
I stayed silent, replaying his words verbatim in my mind. I looked into the house to where Amanda was in her Hello Kitty pajamas, laughing with Lexi. I turned back to Ethan and opened my mouth to speak, but his hand in the air stopped me. "You don't need to say anything. I get it."
I'm glad he said that, because I had no idea what I was about to say.
Tristan sighed, his body slumping further down in his chair. "You guys are making me want to turn straight."
We laughed quietly.
"You think it's funny. If I could get girls like Dimmy and Lexi, I probably would."