“What happened?” Jennifer asked, pushing away from the car when I stepped out of the front door.

“Let’s go home.”

“Mike?”

“Damn it, Jennifer!”

She bristled. “Don’t yell at me!”

I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep myself from shouting so I just swept past her and got in the front passenger seat.

She stood outside, glaring at me in indecision. Finally, she sighed and went around to the driver’s seat.

The ride home passed in an hour of freezing silence. I was angry with my father so I blew up at her. That made her angry with me. I really didn’t care anymore.

As soon as the car stopped outside her house, I jumped out, stalked up to the front door, stomped up the stairs to my room, and slammed the door shut three times in a row. I admit I was probably a little too old to be throwing tantrums, but it felt good.

Jennifer appeared in my doorway a moment later, before I could think to lock my door. She looked coldly furious but spoke with an obviously forced calm. “If you’re hungry—”

“I’m not,” I snapped.

She swallowed her anger. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t be angry anymore. Mike—”

I laughed without humor. “Don’t be angry? Don’t be angry? Jennifer, you sure ask a lot.”

“Whatever Stephen said, it probably just came out wrong. He’s always been a little stupid like that, but—”

“My father, Jennifer, as much as it pains me to admit it, is exactly like me. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what he’s saying. And what he said came out exactly how he intended it to.”

“He didn’t say it to hurt you. Mike, you did something wrong and he was just—”

“You’re defending him? Of course you are. He’s your brother, after all. Gotta keep in his good graces so could keep living this kind of life,” I said nastily. “You don’t argue with the guy who has all the money, ri—”

I had to stop because she had slapped me. “Stop it.”

That slap hurt, and I don't just mean in a physical sense. It hurt me more than anything my father could have said because I cared about her more than I cared about him. Yet I couldn't stop myself from hurting her, even though doing so also caused me great pain. “I didn’t say it to hurt you,” I said sarcastically.

“Stop.”

“No. I’ve had it up to here with this! Everything I do comes out wrong. No matter what I say or do, people will never stop thinking the worst of me. Well, that’s fine. That makes life a whole lot easier for me. I don’t have to try to be Mr. Bloody Perfect anymore. It’s easier to be an asshole, anyway.”

“Mike, you don’t know what you’re saying. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, when you’ve calmed down.”

“Don’t patronize me! Don’t treat this like a passing childish tantrum! I thought you were different, but you’re just like like everyone else.” I marched over to my closet and started stuffing clothes into a backpack.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding alarmed.

“Packing. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Mike—”

“I’m getting out of your life. That should make you happy. I must be so difficult,” I said angrily, forcing a pair of jeans into the bag.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“You say that as if you think I have nowhere left to go,” I sneered. “You forget. Unlike you, I don’t need my father or his money to live.”

She looked confused when I stormed past her and she hurried down the stairs after me. “Keith!”

I stopped at the front door. “Tell my Dad to feel free to disown me. I don’t fucking care. You don’t have to have anything more to do with me. Maybe now no one’s going to die or get hurt because of me. I’m sure you’re all going to be so damn happy,” I told her and then I turned and left the house, slamming the door firmly behind me.

“Mike, wake up.”

I moaned, rolling over. My head felt heavy and my mouth was dry. My brain was already fully awake and aware before I even opened my eyes. It was horrible. I’d drunk myself into insensibility the previous night and now, only a few hours later, I was all too sensible.

I stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling from an unfamiliar vantage point and sighed.

A pretty face framed by pale blond hair peered down at me with eyes a familiar shade of green-flecked blue. “You okay?”

I sat up on a soft, dark green sofa and blinked down at the unfamiliar sheets. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to be going to school,” she replied.

“No. I don’t feel like going to school.”

She sighed and sat down by my knee. “Did you and your aunt have an argument?”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“You can’t hide up here forever.”

“Can’t I? I have more right to be here than you do, Cecilia.

“Are you kicking me out now?”

“No. I’m just— Damn it. Don’t you have to go back to work? Breakfast is a busy time.”

Cecilia Summers stood up, rolling her eyes at me. My cousin stepped to her door. “Fine. You can skip school and I’ll keep hiding you here. But you can’t sit up here brooding all day. If you’re not downstairs in an hour, I’m calling Jennifer,” she said, and vanished.

I didn’t stay up and brood in Cecilia’s loft all day. I took a quick shower and, twenty minutes later, went down two flights of stairs and stopped in a narrow passage on the first floor. The left side of the passage led to the restaurant Cecilia managed and the right led out onto the service entrance.

I glanced up at the stairs. The second floor that I had passed was an extension of the restaurant and also served as a gallery or function room for various events. I was sorely tempted to go back past it and spend all day sleeping in Cecilia’s third-floor living quarters but knew she would stick to her threat if she didn’t at least see me outside of her room.

I turned left, stepping around some cooks rushing about with trays of pastries and various delivery boys coming in with the day’s supplies, and eventually emerged onto the restaurant floor.

Cecilia, who had been standing behind her polished wooden counter, looked up from her books and saw me. She stopped what she was doing and walked over. I spent the time waiting for her to come close enough surveying the floor. The restaurant was relatively lively, with a surprising number of customers in already.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she asked me softly.

I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

She raised an incredulous brow. “You? Not hungry?”

I ignored that. I was starving, but I didn’t feel like eating just yet. “I’m going out.”

“To school?”

“No. Just out.”

“But—”

I glanced at my watch. “I’m going to walk around a bit. Maybe hit the mall when it’s open and walk around in it, too. That’s all.”

She hesitated. Cecilia was young. She was only five years older than I and I knew that she had absolutely no idea what to do with me. “Well, as long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Haven’t you heard? That’s my specialty. Don’t worry about me, Cecilia. I can take care of myself.”

She sighed and let me go.

I felt almost sorry for causing her trouble and additional stress but managed to pushed my guilt aside.

And anyway, I did exactly what I told her I’d do. At least at first. I wasn’t too worried about anyone from school seeing me. At that point, I didn’t care what anyone would think or say about me.

My walk didn’t help me much, however. Instead of clearing my head, it muddied things up. Over-thinking things was something I did quite well, and by the time I decided to step inside the mall for something to eat, my head was so full of complicated emotions that it hurt.

I had a late breakfast, pushed my thoughts out of my mind, and wandered around aimlessly. I bought a couple of books and was standing outside the bookshop lost in thought when she bumped into me.

She was pretty, that was all that registered, really. She had flaming red hair and was smartly dressed. I figured she was a student at the university and she looked young enough to be a freshman – not much older than me, at any rate.

She saw my books through the semi-transparent plastic bag and made some comments about one of them. I frankly don’t remember what it was, but we got to talking after that. I know I asked her name but I promptly forgot it. It didn’t matter. We had plenty to talk about. She liked the same books I did and when she agreed to come back with me to my place, I realized she thought I was probably her age. After that, we didn’t really talk about books anymore.

Picking up girls wasn’t something I usually did, although it came easily to me. I know what I look like, and most of the time it was an inconvenience. The last thing I wanted or needed was casual sex, and that’s the truth. Of course, someone – I knew precisely who – had spread rumors of exactly the opposite about me.

I admit that if I hadn’t had the fight with Jennifer and the fight with my father before that, I probably wouldn’t have invited her back to the loft. I probably would have been in school, doing what everyone would least expect me to be doing: studying. But the argument had happened and she was nice and beautiful and I’ve always had a weakness for red hair. One moment, we were sitting on the couch talking and drinking coffee and in the next, I had her flat on her back on the cushions.

Before I knew it, we were making out and my shirt was on the floor, her blouse was on the coffee table, and I was fumbling with her slacks when the doorknob jangled.

Both of us stopped.

Cecilia had a key, of course, so I quickly got off her while she pulled her blouse back on.

Cecilia stepped inside, saying something to someone just behind her, and I felt my stomach drop in dismay when I realized it was Jennifer.

They saw me (shirtless), and the girl (mussed) and stopped in their tracks.

The next minute was embarrassing as hell. Nobody said anything. Cecilia looked at the wall, Jennifer stared at me with a disappointed expression, and I stared angrily right back.

The girl probably sensed something in the air because she quickly excused herself and fled, Cecilia right behind her.

“Who was that?” Jennifer asked mildly, shutting the door behind them.

I shrugged my shirt back on. “That’s none of your business.”

“Do you even know her name?”

I felt myself turn red.

“If you’re trying to prove all the rumors about you true, you’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Shut up. I don’t care anymore.”

“Yes, you do. You still care, otherwise your face wouldn’t be that red. We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Just what are you planning? Do you plan on living here?”

“Don’t tell me I can’t.”

She sighed. “Mike, we’re only worried about you, your father and I. We just want to keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” I said in exasperation. “Just how much ‘trouble’ have I been in my entire life? Brian’s got a wilder rep than I do – and trust me, his is well-deserved – but he comes out of things smelling like flowers. I made a mistake with a girl once. Just once. And no one has let it go. Everyone acts like I get in trouble all the time.”

“All right. Maybe we aren’t being fair. Maybe we are putting you on a microscope and watching your every move too closely. I’m sorry. We just don’t want it to happen again. As you said, people already expect the worst of you. You can’t so much as get a speeding ticket before people are all over you for it and I saw how much it hurt you that time...That time...”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” I said through clenched teeth.

“That’s exactly what I mean. Your father is trying to protect you, and maybe it comes out all wrong—”

“He isn’t trying to protect me. He’s trying to protect the family name,” I said sarcastically.

She said nothing for a while. “You still don’t remember, do you? Those two weeks?”

It was bad enough that she had brought up the last mess between my ex-girlfriend and I. Now she had to bring something else, something infinitely more painful, up. “Shut up. I don’t want to talk anymore,” I told her, standing up and walking away from her.

“Even if you don’t remember those days, surely you remember your time in the hospital. After the accident—”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“After the incident,” she corrected herself. “Your Dad sat by your side for days.”

“I remember no such thing.”

“You were passed out or on drugs then. But he was there.”

“You’re lying. He would have been with Chris or locked up in his room, crying his eyes out. That’s what I would have been doing.” I looked out of Cecilia’s window and onto the busy street. “It’s because of me my mother died. And it’s because of me that Chris isn’t walking anymore. So don’t tell me he was so sad about how I nearly died that he had to watch over me.”

She looked like she wanted to tell me something. Her mouth opened and closed several times. “You don’t understand at all.” She drew a deep breath. “You should talk to your father about this.”

“No. I know what he’s going to say.”

“You don’t. Oh, Mike. The things that happened that day...they weren’t what you think at all.”

I stared at her. “Don’t mistake me for an idiot, Jennifer. I may not remember what happened, but I know enough from what everyone else has let drop. None of you would tell me anything, and you won’t even let me near my sister now. But I have an idea of just what happened that day. The day that I should have—”

“Don’t say it,” she begged. “Don’t.”

I looked out the window again. “Go home, Jennifer.”

“Come with me.”

“No.”

“Please. You have to come with me.”

“Why?” The word wasn’t even out of my mouth when I suddenly knew why. “Because you can’t watch me here,” I sighed. “If I entered a monastery and never came out, you still wouldn’t be happy, would you?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

She hesitated again. “I don’t know...I don’t know if I should. I told you. Please. Talk to your father.”

“Now, you and I both know nothing good’s going to come out of that,” I told her.

She looked upset and I started to feel rather bad. I liked Jennifer, and I was beginning to feel sorry for all the things that I had told her and all the trouble I had caused. Trouble. I almost laughed.

“Please come home,” she said softly.

I sighed. This was just too much drama and I didn’t see the point in it anymore. So much trouble, just because I had chosen to lose my temper and throw my backpack at some loser jerk that wasn’t worth all of this. “Fine. I’ll go back to your house with you. But I won’t talk to my father and don’t even try setting anything up. I don’t want to talk about whatever it is that happened that I can’t remember.”

“But—”

“That’s it, Jennifer. I mean it.”

She sighed in defeat and opened the door. “Let’s go home, then.”