Rich Prick by Tijan

35

Aspen

Iwaited until we got into Maisie. Then I waited as Blaise cursed that he’d forgotten the pizza and ran inside to grab it. He was back five minutes later, and I knew he’d accomplished that by being rude. There was no way he could’ve walked through that house without people trying to talk to him, so he must have shrugged each and every one of them off like a bad rash. That was his way, I was learning.

I waited as he got in and I drove back to my house. (He said he was fine, and he seemed fine, but I still wasn’t sure who I trusted to drive Maisie right now.)

I waited as we went into my house and up to the theater room with its snack room kitchenette. I kept waiting as Blaise heated us each a couple slices of pizza and led the way to my room.

Then he took a big bite of a slice, tossed the plate on my desk, and reached up to pull his shirt off.

That’s when I asked.

“When’s my turn?”

“Hmmm?” he asked. He pulled his shirt free, his eyes wide as he finished chewing what was in his mouth. “What?”

I shifted back on my heels.

His eyes dropped as he noted my movement, my posture.

That’s what he did. I was learning that too.

He saw everything. He watched everything, and then he decided what he wanted out of the situation and went about creating whatever that was. If he wanted sex, he’d go sensual now. If he wanted a fight, he’d say something mean—though he never did that with me. Not intentionally. So I waited to see what sort of Blaise I was about to get. I wasn’t sure I was ready to be his adversary, not yet, but I knew it would come. If we remained on this course, we’d butt heads. Every couple did. The resolving of it would tell me what we had.

I wasn’t a dating expert, but I’d read books—romance, textbooks, cognitive behavioral therapy handbooks. I’d done quite a bit of that. But I also knew things because while I’d had my brother, he and I had had a damn good relationship.

Then he died, and I was alone, and now I had Blaise.

I was also learning that I never wanted to be alone again.

Blaise still hadn’t said anything, but he eyed me like I was a wounded animal that could strike any second.

“When are you going to turn on me?” I asked.

His eyes went flat.

I lowered my head. “When are you going to push me away?”

He stepped back.

“When are you going to decide you don’t want my love in your life?”

Because that’s what he was doing with his family—with all of this.

His jaw clenched.

I’d pushed his button. “There it is. You don’t like what I’m saying.”

His eyes cooled. “Didn’t take you for a dick.”

I raised my head, not allowing him to look down on me. I watched him the way he’d watched that Gambin guy at Zeke’s party, only he’d done it sitting down, with me on his lap. He did it like a professional.

I was so out of my league. I shook my head, easing away from him. “What am I doing?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

We’d just switched roles. I’d been on offense, and I’d intended to see it through. He was worth it. So what was I doing now? Backing away? Running off? I flinched, hearing Blaise’s own words in my head, “You running?”

Probably. Because that’s what I did. I didn’t stand and fight.

Concern colored Blaise’s expression.

“You care about me,” I said.

His head tilted. “Yeah. I thought I’d made that pretty clear to you.” His eyes darkened. “Is that what this is about? You don’t know how much I care about you?”

Yes.

But no.

My chest hurt. My skin felt stretched.

I felt a storm coming. My pulse sped up.

A panic attack was imminent.

He couldn’t see me like that.

“He’s seen you like that already.”

Really?! I sucked in my breath. Now I heard Owen’s voice?

I could hear my brother laugh. “You didn’t really need me before. Don’t run. You chose him. No more running.”

I’m not going camping anymore,I decided then and there.

He just laughed.

“Aspen?”

Right. Blaise was here. He was alive. He wasn’t a voice in my head.

I could be so crazy sometimes, so what the hell? Owen was right. I’d chosen him. I needed to commit, so here goes nothing—or everything.

“Owen wasn’t my twin,” I said.

Those words were not what he’d been expecting. I read it on his face. His mouth went flat, but he didn’t say anything.

“But everyone thought he was,” I continued.

My chest tightened again, like something was sitting heavy on my throat. I had to push through it, ignore it. That was my panic rising.

I coughed and plunged forward. “I’m smart. I don’t know if I told you.”

He nodded slowly. He was listening. He was with me.

“Like, I’m almost genius-level smart.”

“He doesn’t respect modesty. Be bold.”

Fuck off, Owen!

“Be proud.”

I sucked in my breath, feeling tears rising. Damn. He always used to do that to me.

“I am genius-level smart. Like, they wanted me to skip a grade.” I winced. “Or two.” Then I hurried. “But I didn’t let them. I mean, I went up one grade…” I wasn’t explaining any of this the right way.

So not a genius.

I tried to backtrack. “Here’s the thing, I’m young.”

His eyes clouded over. “How young?”

“I turned seventeen three weeks ago.”

I was a sixteen-year-old senior. Har har. Laugh at the little genius girl. Now let’s all throw popcorn at her so she can break down and we can feel better about ourselves.

I braced myself—it was always the same response. Always.

But nothing came.

I’d even closed my eyes, preparing myself. For nothing.

I opened them and Blaise was just staring at me, except the clouds weren’t in his eyes any more. They were all over his face. He was almost glaring. I hadn’t expected that reaction. Though, maybe I should’ve? We did have sex. Were you supposed to explain all your hidden secrets before climbing into bed with each other? Probably.

I was going to suck as an adult. I couldn’t even get this teenager stuff right, and I only had one year left. Well, not really. I was off to college. That was adulthood. Kinda.

“That’s why you don’t have friends?”

“What?” I squeaked out.

His face was livid. I thought I was reading that right, but his tone was tender. “You don’t have friends, Aspen. We’ve talked about this. I knew you didn’t know anyone at school, but I thought there’d be someone. Old friends from your last school. A cousin maybe? There’s been no one.”

Crap.

So many craps.

“I…” had no idea what I was doing anymore. What was the point of me starting this? “I thought I had friends.” Then Owen died. “I realized I didn’t later.”

“What happened?” Blaise was quiet a moment. “Where are your parents?”

God.

Right there. He’d dug right in, right to the bone.

My throat burned.

I didn’t answer.

“They aren’t here. We’re graduating in two days. Where are your parents?” He spoke so softly, so kindly.

I hated it.

Fine. Let’s do this.

It was time, right?

“It used to be me and Owen. Nate left us while we were at Hillcrest, but I had Owen. He had friends. I didn’t, though I didn’t realize that until later. I’d thought they were my friends. Owen was the popular one. I never was. I was a year younger, but in the same grade, and when people know that, it makes a difference. They look at you differently. You’re not one of them.”

I could’ve told him some other stuff about when they found out you were smarter than they were, but I didn’t have the energy at the moment.

“Kids can be cruel,” I said in summary, my words faint even to my ears. “Owen died last summer.”

The screams.

The music.

The brakes.

The screeching.

The metal being hit.

“There was a car accident,” I told him. “There was nothing salacious about it, just a run-of-the-mill car accident.”

“No car accident is run-of-the-mill,” he rasped.

True.

“No drugs. No drinking,” I clarified. “Owen was driving me and two of his friends. They were in the back. I was in the front.” Here was the hard part.

I didn’t want to feel it, so I started closing myself down.

One wall at a time.

“You gotta tell him, sis. For you.”

“Owen and I were fighting over the music.”

“I don’t want to listen to rap,” I’d told him.

He’d laughed. “Whatever. Driver picks the music.”

“I changed the music because I was being stupid,” I explained.

“No sad shit, Asp. Come on!” He’d still been laughing.

“We started a little wrestling match, shoving back and forth, and then…”

“Look out!”

“We were going around a curve, and there was a car coming toward us. It was in our lane.”

“Oh shit!”

“Owen yanked the wheel, and time slowed down. We missed the car, and it was so weird because I could see them perfectly as we passed. It was a lady, and she’d been reaching back to the seats behind her. She didn’t even see us coming, but they did. She had two little kids in their car seats. She saw them see us, and she was starting to turn, but it was done by then.”

“Aspen,” Blaise breathed.

My throat was so tight, I could barely swallow. I could barely talk.

“Owen held my hand as we hit the metal guard rail on the ditch. The doctors think that’s what saved my life, but we don’t know. Owen died on impact. One of the guys in the back was tossed from the car, but he ended up being okay. It was a miracle for him, and the other guy just had scrapes and bruises.”

I was completely numb, just the way I liked it in moments like these.

I whispered, “I was in the hospital for two months.”

“And no one visited you?” His voice came from right behind me.

He had migrated closer. I could feel his heat now.

I found myself leaning back, and one of his arms curled around me, resting low on my hip.

I nodded, my head moving against his shirt. “His friends never came to see me. I thought maybe it was the hospital not letting people visit, but that wasn’t the case. My mom and dad were there almost every day. Nate visited too. The days kinda blurred together.”

The after.

I turned in his arms and tipped my head back to look at him.

“That’s why my parents came back here. They were worried about me the first semester, but now they’re on this whole kick to make things right with Nate.”

Blaise’s other hand came to my hip, holding me against him.

His eyes searched mine. “Why aren’t your parents here this weekend, Aspen?”

I felt a rock in my gut.

“My parents aren’t bad parents. They’re just... They’re workaholics, and when they get into a project they’re passionate about, they’re really into it.”

“They forget you.”

I heard his condemnation, and I moved back.

“It’s not totally like that.”

“It’s exactly like that.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not. They’ve just been gone this week. At the beginning of the year, they were here every day. I couldn’t move in this house without my mom or dad on me, asking how I was, talking to me about my counseling sessions. They were overly in my life, so when they got the green light for this new project of theirs, it was a relief. I could go to school again and pretend to be normal.”

I sighed.

It was now.

Now or never.

“I miss my brother. I miss him so much that after the accident,” a deep breath, “I wish it’d been me. Not him.”

I turned.

I closed my eyes, folded my head, tried to disappear in on myself.

The after.

The after when I wanted to disappear and be with Owen.

“Aspen,” his voice was so soft, so tender behind me.

“I’m better, but it’s a lot. It’s why I wanted to be invisible at school, why I was proud of having no one. It’s better to have no one to lose than to have that one get ripped from you, and wish it’d been you instead.”

“Aspen.” His hands came to my shoulder, stepping up behind me. He folded me against him, just holding me. “Do your parents know?”

I shrugged. “Told my counselor. I don’t know what she shared with them.”

It’s done, sis.

A tear fell.

I said, leaning back against him, letting him hold me, “I don’t know Nate that well. Our family is so distant.”

He was quiet, so I looked up.

His mouth was pressed in a flat line.

He had to understand.

I pulled away, turning to him. “I’m not going to our graduation ceremony.”

His eyes flared, and he opened his mouth.

I shook my head. “I can’t be there. Owen was supposed to graduate with me, and he won’t be there. And no one here knows him. No one knows me. My parents have forgotten about graduation, and I want them to keep forgetting. I’m going to tell them next week after it’s all done, and I know they’ll feel bad. They’ll want to throw me a party, but it hurts too much. Owen was my best friend, and I… I don’t want to celebrate these things without him. It’s too hard. It’s too painful.”

There.

That was it. That was all of it.

I could wait now.

Would he understand? Would he push it?

I hoped he wouldn’t.

I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.

Blaise sighed and brought his forehead to rest against mine. “Babe, that’s why you have to celebrate these things. I don’t know your brother. You’ve barely talked about him, but I’ve got a strong feeling he would want you to walk across the stage.”

No, no, no.

I tried to pull away.

His hand tightened, and he moved even closer, his lips just above mine. “I don’t care how you slice it in your head, if he loved you, he’d want this for you.” A beat. “He would want you to do it for him.”