Out of Character by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jasper

The door shut softly behind Milo. No slamming. No screaming. It wasn’t even a storming off as much as a bid for space, which even if I wasn’t as introverted as him, I did sort of understand. I’d grown up in a big family with space at a premium. Finding a spot to be alone to think had been a challenge at times. But with Milo, I wanted to be together. A team, like we’d been earlier. The dynamic duo, solving all Milo’s problems. Him shutting me out hurt. If he didn’t want the same kind of partnership I did, I wasn’t sure where that left us.

But mainly, I was super worried about Milo. As I cleaned up the last of the card mess, I kept debating exactly how worried I should be. He was a big guy, sober, on a clear night that for once was showing signs of spring. If he needed a walk in the dead of night, so be it.

However, his parting words had been rather…ominous. I took my phone out. No messages. Should I text someone? My mom? His? A friend? I didn’t want to call for backup this late at night without a good reason. I didn’t think Milo would do anything too rash. For all that he could brood, he’d never shown a tendency to self-harm, but I was still worried.

I stacked boxes and wiped the table with quick, jerky movements. And maybe some of my concern was because I had a strong feeling where he was headed and why he hadn’t told me. He knew I’d stop him. Which I probably still would. I knew exactly how long it would take Milo to walk there at a slow pace, so I’d let him get a head start, finish up here, then go talk some sense into him.

Thump.I was almost done cleaning when I tripped over Milo’s backpack. Heck. He had to be really worked up to have forgotten it. His sketchbook was under it because he’d been noodling with a drawing earlier while I’d been busy doing stuff for Arthur to close up the store. When I lifted up the backpack, the motion pulled the sketchbook open. And what I saw took my breath away.

Me. Over and over again, me. Me as the Frog Wizard, me as a regular guy in my hoodie, happy, joking, quiet, sexy, a myriad of different moods. I crouched low to get a better look, transfixed. I should have shut it fast, but I couldn’t. Because there on those pages was love, bold and fearless. He’d said the word the night before, but I’d been half-convinced that was sex talking. But here on these pages, his pencil didn’t lie.

He saw me like no one else had ever seen me. Saw beyond the joker and funny guy to the parts of me that were softer, more serious. Vulnerable. More like him.

My legs cramped from holding the position, but I didn’t care. If he could see me so well, didn’t I owe it to him to try to see him too? Not simply my stack of assumptions about him and what he needed, but him as he actually was, all of him. I’d spent days trying to come up with plans for him, but had I seen him amid all my scheming?

Because there he was on the pages too. Self-portraits and cartoon Milo both. Cartoon Milo was more like me, joking and open. In so many ways, we’d always been mirror images of each other. Seeing him like this underscored both our differences and the ways we complemented each other. He was always saying how I was nicer and a better person, but he made me that way, both as part of my past and now as what I wanted for my future.

Seeing his more serious self-portraits, it was easy to grasp his complexity—the artsy, almost poetic parts dancing alongside the sporty, brash parts. He had visions for his future, too, little sketches for how he might arrange a small room and one of cartoon Milo holding up a drawing. I’d wanted so badly to rescue that Milo, the one that had been afraid to let those different parts of himself see the light. But what if he’d never truly needed my rescue? What then?

Speaking of rescues, there was one of Bruno too, looking heroic in his uniform. The love was apparent there, too, and I understood better than most how family ties could run deep. Jeff’s distance still hurt, and even Katie and Brenda getting their own lives was bittersweet. April would grow up someday too, need me less, but I wasn’t suddenly going to stop being her big brother. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to ask Milo to stop caring so much about what Bruno thought of him. It mattered to Milo.

And Milo mattered to me.

Buzz.My phone vibrated on the table above me, and I unfolded my stiff body to reach for it.

Triple-check the locks.Not a word about why he’d left or where he’d gone, but he’d promised Arthur he’d remind me, so he had. My chest pinched, a deep, hard pang.

Are you okay?That was what I truly needed to know.

Yeah.

Good.There was so much I wanted to say, but none of it would fit in a text. My words would have to wait.

And I was going after him—as soon as I triple-checked the locks—but I was no longer racing to stop him from doing something stupid. Rather, I was ready to listen, really listen with my whole heart, and open my eyes and see him. Only then could I hope to actually help.