“You sure you wanna hear the whole fucking thing?”
I nod. “Honesty-game.”
“Okay. Here it is. Honesty-game.” He exhales loudly. “I got it because sometimes, it’s all too much. Sometimes, I wanna just... you know... escape.”
I nod, encouraging him to keep talking.
“I got it because my mom was slaughtered while I was sitting at a fucking football game with my dad. Because my poor brother was so traumatized by what he witnessed that day, he still hasn’t recovered.” His voice cracks.
He pauses, collecting himself.
I nod again.
“I got it because my dad killed himself by blowing his brains out, and made sure poor Jonas would find him.” His voice cracks again. “I got it because my dad offed himself without saying goodbye to me or leaving me even a goddamned fucking note.” He swallows hard. “I got it because Jonas drove himself off a fucking bridge that same day, and if he’d succeeded in offing himself, I would have joined him at the bottom of that bridge.” He looks at me with blazing eyes.
I nod again. My skin is electrified.
“You want more? Because I got more.”
I don’t even hesitate in my reply. “I want it all, Josh.”
His eyes are on fire. His chest is heaving. “I got it because, after the thing with my dad, my brother was in a fucking mental institutionfor almost a full year, totally and completely losing his shit—he didn’t even look like himself, Kat. There was nothing I could do to help him. No joke I could tell to make him laugh. No words of wisdom to make it all better. So I went away to college or else I was gonna fucking kill myself, I swear to God—I was right on the verge—and I joined a fraternity and lived in the loudest, most chaotic house I could fucking find and got shit-faced half the time and high the other half and made friends who saved my fucking life. And from there on out, I’ve been Happy Josh all the live-long fucking day.”
My heart is racing. I swallow hard.
His voice becomes low and quiet. “I got it because sometimes I get so fucking tired of being the sane brother, the one who always rises above, the one you can always count on, thehappyone, I just lose my fucking shit, Kat. I lose it. And then I go on a bender of one kind or another until I get whatever crazy fucking shit out of my system—and then I go back to being Happy Fucking Josh just like I always am—just like Jonas needs me to be.”
I swallow hard, trying to alleviate the lump in my throat.
I wait, but Josh doesn’t say anything else.
He clears his throat. “Will you excuse me for a minute?” he says abruptly.
Without waiting for my reply, Josh gets off the bed, beelines to the bathroom, and disappears.
I sit for about a minute, staring at the closed door, trembling, swallowing hard.
And then a dam breaks inside me and I burst into tears.
Thirty-Six
Kat
For ten minutes, I sit and wait for Josh to come out of the bathroom. And in that time, I manage to regain control of my emotions. I’m calm again. My eyes are dry.
I switch the song on Josh’s laptop to Audra Mae (my new favorite) singing “The River.” And then, I sit and wait.
Josh comes out of the bathroom and sits back down on the bed, positioning himself exactly the way he was before he left the room.
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“So, PG, I have yet to discover a single tattoo on you,” he says, his voice light and bright. “And, believe me, I’ve conducted an extremely thorough search.”
I shift my position on the bed. My heart feels like it’s gonna hurtle out of my chest. I put my hands over my face, collecting myself. I didn’t expect him to come back in here and pretend he never said any of that stuff to me. I was steeling myself to hold back my tears while he continued pouring his heart out to me. I didn’t expect him to come back in here like nothing happened.
“Ever thought of getting a tattoo?” he asks, his voice tight, his eyes pleading with me to play along.
I can’t concentrate. I don’t know what to do—how to react. “Um,” I stutter, “I have one, actually.”
