What He Never Said ✔️

chapter twenty-two • big news

"Fear in me so deep, it gets the best of me."
- Trust Company

I stare down at my trembling hands. Anxiety's nefarious grip is one I can't seem to shake, especially when I know Golden Boy is on his way over.

Thankfully, he called first. Half the time, he just shows up unannounced. He told Mom and Dad that he has "big news" for the family. I don't know what his alleged news is. Truthfully, I don't care.

I don't want to see him, not after our encounter at the restaurant a couple weeks ago.

Evangeline and I are upstairs playing video games when I hear the front door open, followed by the familiar sound of Benson's thunderous, overly-confident voice. I tell her to stay put while I head downstairs for a minute. Like I've said before, I don't want Benson anywhere near her.

"Can I come with you?" she asks, setting her controller down and looking at me with pleading green eyes.

"No, not yet. I'll be right back, okay?" I promise her.

I tiptoe down the wooden steps and find Benson—no Alyx, though—sitting at the kitchen table with my parents. He's beaming. Never in my life have I seen him so genuinely happy.

All I want to do is knock the fucking smile off his face.

"There you are, Bowie," Mom says, wearing a grin that matches Benson's. "Now we're just waiting on Gemma. Gosh, I'm so excited to hear your news!"

I roll my eyes. I'm feeling many things right now, but excitement isn't one of them.

"Actually, Gemma already knows," he informs us. "She stopped by the other day, so I can just tell you now."

"Go on, son. What's your big news?" Dad inquires.

"Well...." Benson looks at my mom, then my dad, all the while smiling like an idiot. "Alyx is pregnant. We're having a baby!"

My mom's brown eyes go wide. Her face is a portrait of astonishment. My dad's expression matches hers.

After a moment of stunned silence, my parents take turns congratulating Benson. They embrace him and tell him how happy they are, and how eager they are to meet their future grandbaby.

"I know you're gonna be a good dad, honey," my mom says, her eyes brimming with joyful tears, "because you're such a good person."

Something inside of me snaps. I make a hasty exit, running outside to the garage. I fetch my miniature lock box off a dusty shelf, turn the three-digit combination, and retrieve what I'm searching for—a rolled up joint.

I've always kept my drugs in a lock box. Since Evangeline moved in, I started stashing them in the garage instead of my bedroom, just to be safe. I haven't had to resort to hallucinogenics in a while. I haven't needed to.

Tonight, I do.

I take a seat on the front porch and light up the joint. A circle of smoke surrounds me as soon as I exhale. There is no subtlety in my actions. Through the kitchen window, anyone could see me.

Of course, my parents are too preoccupied with Golden Boy to care.

I'm halfway done when Gemma's Nissan pulls down the driveway. She puts the car in park, gets out, and then looks me up and down.

"Are you getting high?" she asks, judgment written all over her face.

I shrug my shoulders. I'm not gonna insult her intelligence by lying to her. "You caught me."

She sits down beside me. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really," I admit.

"Bowie, what's wrong? You can talk to me," she says.

I take another drag and allow my tired eyes to close. "Benson came over to tell Mom and Dad that he got Alyx pregnant."

"I kind of already knew that. I found out a little over a week ago," she confesses.

I shake my head, irritation rising in my chest. "As soon as the words 'having a baby' left his mouth, I thought they were gonna kill him, but they... they congratulated him. He's known this girl for three months, Gemma, and they think he should be raising a child with her. How completely fucked is that?" I exclaim, staring down at my quivering hands.

"I don't disagree with you. Trust me, I think they're moving way too fast, but what I don't understand is why you're so upset about it," she replies.

"Because the guy gets away with murder!" I shout, exploding like a stick of dynamite. "He always has. Even when we were kids, he could do no wrong. Maybe that's why he—"

Oh, fuck. I did it again. What is it about my sister that makes me incapable of closing my god damn mouth?

"Maybe that's why he... what?" Gemma's voice is soft as she prods for more information.

"Nothing. Never mind." I stomp out my joint. Without saying goodbye, I race up the driveway, moving as fast as my legs will take me. The weed is making it difficult. Perhaps I should have thought this through.

"Where are you going?" my sister calls out, but I don't answer.

Thankfully, Gemma doesn't chase me. I pull my hood up and walk down the street, allowing the stillness of the night to calm me down. My heart is beating at record speed, but I feel better. I don't feel like slamming my fist into Benson's perfectly symmetrical nose anymore, even though he really fucking deserves it.

How could he get Alyx pregnant? I mean, I know how, but why? Is he trying to recreate the life he wanted to have with Raelyn? He and his doppelganger met at the end of last year. They've been together just a few weeks longer than Zayna and I have. I sure as hell am not trying to knock her up.

And then, of course, Mom and Dad's reaction made my blood boil. Why were they so thrilled for him? They don't know what I know, but they should have at least been concerned that their son is having a baby with a girl he met a few months ago. Instead, they jumped for joy at the prospect of being grandparents. For fuck's sake, they're not even sixty yet!

I know I shouldn't be this enraged. I shouldn't let Benson's actions bother me this much. It's just really fucking hard to watch him thrive while Raelyn is sitting in an urn atop my parent's dresser.

I take my earbuds out of my pocket, plug them into the headphone jack on my phone, and lose myself in Trust Company's "Downfall," an angsty anthem from my middle school days. Some things never get old.

Can I break away?
Push me away
Make me fall
Just to see the other side of me

At the second chorus, I'm blinded by a pair of headlights. Immediately, I recognize the car as Gemma's. She rolls to a stop and opens her window.

"I'm not getting in the car," I say quickly, before she has a chance to speak. "I'm not going home."

"I'm not going home," she retorts, rolling her toffee-colored eyes.

"Then where are you headed?" I ask, assuming she drove this way in an attempt to track me down. Maybe I was wrong.

"Work." After a thirty-second pause, she adds, "Hop in, Bowie. There's something I want to show you."