Brightly (Flicker #2) (67 page)

Nasser felt a hard twinge of pain beneath his ribs. Lee. He hadn’t realized he would miss her so much, everything about her: the smell of her hair, and the sound of her voice, and the way her eyes were always moving, taking everything in, missing nothing. For six days, he’d been consumed by thoughts of her, trying to think of a way to mend what had fallen apart.

If he asked for her, she would come. And if he talked to her, if he begged her to take him back, she might. He wanted that, wanted her, so badly that his teeth hurt. But he wasn’t sure that being together would make either of them much happier, not if nothing else changed.

She would still be frustrated by his choices, hurt because he was afraid to let her close, where she might see all the crooked places inside him. He would still be angry at everything he couldn’t control, and so uncomfortable in his own skin that he couldn’t bear to be touched.

As much as he loved her, Nasser knew that being with her wouldn’t put everything back into place. Too much had been shoved out of alignment. She couldn’t make him better, but he knew she would try anyway, even if he didn’t want her to, even if it broke her into pieces. He couldn’t bring himself to put her in that position.

Nasser didn’t know how to make anything work anymore. He didn’t know how to live this life. The first thing he needed to fix was himself—and if he’d learned anything, it was that he didn’t know how to do that on his own.

“It’s not going to get any better than it is right now,” Nasser said quietly, understanding it for the first time. He felt as if the ground were opening up underneath him. “This is how it’ll be, until the Guild comes. And after that…”

Beside him, Jason had gone very still. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Nasser was working it out in his own mind.

“There’s nothing here,” Nasser said. As he said the words, he thought he felt something shift inside him. “Staying in Bridgestone doesn’t help anyone, does it?”

He had known that for a long time, he realized. Some part of him had known all along, though he’d refused to acknowledge it. Logic had never been what held him here. It was the people he loved. He’d thought he was staying for them—but, really, he was only trying to make himself feel better, and failing, at that.

Rodney had said the deal was only what Nasser made it out to be. He’d brushed the advice off, but now he thought that Rodney might’ve been onto something. Maybe he could make something good out of Amelia’s offer. Maybe he could find his way back one day.

Jason leaned toward Nasser. “If you go, I don’t want you to feel guilty about it. You’re not abandoning us.”

“Jason…”

“You’re not anything like Dad,” Jason said, softly. “It’s not the same.”

“I know,” Nasser replied. But it felt the same. Their father had been the first person to leave Jason. Nasser didn’t want to be the second.

Hesitantly, Jason reached out and touched Nasser’s arm. “You took care of me for a long time,” he said. “But I can take it from here. It’s okay. You don’t have to give me anything more. You can keep some for yourself.”

Nasser shook his head. “It’s for life, Jason. I don’t get to change my mind. If I go, I might not—” He swallowed, hard. “We might not see each other again.”

“Sure we will,” Jason said, smiling as much as he could. For a second, Nasser glimpsed something in his brother’s eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time: that bright gleam of trust, the hope that everything would be all right and they would be together. Nasser wasn’t sure he knew how to hope like that anymore, but maybe he could learn.

Jason didn’t say anything when Nasser grabbed his crutches and stood, though Nasser could feel his gaze as he crossed the living room and disappeared into his bedroom.

Nasser hadn’t thrown Amelia’s card away. He’d thought it was worth holding onto, that it might come in handy someday, so he’d tucked it into his bag and left it there.

It was such a little thing, just a piece of white cardstock printed with a single name, but Amelia’s card felt oddly heavy in his hand when he carried it into the kitchen. Jason got up and joined Nasser by the sink, clearly curious.

“Is that…?” He glanced at Nasser, the question in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Nasser stared down at the card for a moment, studying it. Then he grabbed a pen from a nearby drawer, flipped the card over and jotted several notes on the back.

His heart pounded, but as he lit the card with a silver spark of flame and watched it burn down, his hand was steady.

Chapter Thirty-Five:

“Why do you look so surprised?” Alice asked, as she and Filo stepped past Jason to enter the apartment. Her hair was damp from the early September rain. “You didn’t think we’d forget, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Nasser said immediately. He grabbed his crutches and stood. Despite himself, he looked past the two of them, to the door that Jason was closing. The words tumbled out before he could think to stop them: “Is Lee—?”

Filo shifted from foot to foot. “No. She, ah…. She had some things to take care of today. She couldn’t make it.”

“Right.” Nasser tried not to look stung. He doubted that Lee had asked Filo to say that. It seemed more likely that Filo had come up with that excuse, possibly just now, in a clumsy effort to spare Nasser’s feelings.

Nasser hadn’t expected Lee to come, not really. Some part of him knew that it was probably for the best that she didn’t. But he had hoped, and now he had to pay the price. He felt a deep ache all through his body.

“She gave me something for you,” Filo added, a moment later. He fished an envelope out of his messenger bag and handed it over.

“Oh.” Nasser accepted the envelope, then set it on the coffee table.

Alice sighed, but when she spoke, she didn’t sound unhappy. “I can’t believe it’s today.”

“Neither can I,” Nasser admitted. He’d felt sort of ill all morning. He kept looking around the apartment and thinking that he might never see this place again.

“When are you leaving?”

“I’m supposed to meet Amelia in a couple of hours.”

“That’s good,” Alice said. “That’s really good.”

As he looked down at her, Nasser’s heart contracted. He’d been in this moment before. The last time, Alice was fourteen, and Nasser was about to leave with Jason. “It’s okay,” she’d told him, over and over, in a thin, quavering voice. “It’s okay. I understand.”

But she had still cried and clung to him, and when he finally forced himself to pull away from her, it hurt like nothing else ever had.

Filo had said nothing that night, just stood off to the side and watched everything with those unreadable eyes. His expression was a hard mask that only cracked when Nasser tried to touch him. Filo had shoved him away with such force that Nasser stumbled, but it wasn’t anger that flashed in Filo’s eyes. It was confusion and pain. He’d never looked at Nasser that way before, and Nasser had never hated himself quite so much.

For a moment, Nasser wavered.
I can’t do this,
he thought suddenly. How could he leave them again? How could he actually go through with it?

When he looked at them, though, he saw that neither was watching him the way they had that night. Alice was smiling gently, and Filo’s eyes were clear.

“I made you something,” Alice said. She pulled a small object from her pocket and pressed it into his hand.

It was a detailed figurine of a wolf, a bit smaller than a plum, carved from dark wood and humming with warm energy. Nasser looked up at her. “When did you take up whittling?”

“Oh, ages ago,” Alice said, with a wave of her hand. “I’m getting pretty good.”

“I can see that.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, but she was smiling. “This thing’s ferocious,” she said. “I wove the enchantment myself. Keep it in your bag or something. It’ll protect you.”

“Alice,” Nasser started, feeling his throat begin to constrict.

Before he could finish, she hugged him, much too tightly. She did nothing by half.

“You’re one of the best things that ever happened to us, you know,” Alice said quietly. “Nobody ever gave a damn about us, except for you. Thank you for that.”

“Alice,” he said again, and this time, it was a sigh.

“Don’t lose that charm,” she warned, looking up at him. Her hazel eyes were shiny, but even now, she didn’t look sad. “It took forever to make.”

He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “I won’t.”

“You better not.” Alice glanced over her shoulder. “Jason, can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?”

“Sure,” Jason said. He looked slightly confused, but he turned to follow Alice when she crossed to the front door.

Nasser didn’t miss the way she bumped Filo with her elbow, very lightly, as she brushed past him. It was only then that he realized what she was doing. Sometimes she seemed to know what Filo needed much better than Filo did.

For a moment, after Alice and Jason slipped into the hallway, neither Filo nor Nasser spoke. Then Filo began nervously tugging his sleeves down over his hands.

“That thing we talked about in the cave,” Filo started. “I promised, so it still stands.”

At first, Nasser didn’t understand. What they’d talked about in Otherworld had revolved around messages he’d needed Filo to relay when Nasser was sure he was going to die. Then he remembered:
You’re all going to have to take care of each other now. Can you do that?

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Filo said. “We’ll be okay.”

“I know.” One of these days, Nasser thought, he would have to stop thinking of them as children. It wouldn’t be today. “I’ll still worry, though. It’s kind of a reflex.”

Filo smiled a little at that, and Nasser reached up to clap him on the shoulder. As he did, a strange, almost determined expression crossed Filo’s face—and a second later, Filo had grabbed Nasser in a rough hug.

It was a moment before Nasser recovered enough from his initial shock to react. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He just hugged Filo back.

Lee was out of breath and shivering when she rapped on the door, having run several blocks from the bus stop. Her heart was beating like the wings of a frightened bird, and her hair was lank from the rain, plastered to her head.

It was Jason who answered the door. He must’ve seen something in her eyes—a glimmer of wild, desperate hope, perhaps—because his expression pinched and his shoulders slumped as soon as he looked at her. His mouth opened, but he looked like he didn’t know what to say.

Lee’s heart stumbled. “I missed him, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, sort of gently, but Lee winced anyway, as if a wound had pulled open inside of her. “Filo said you weren’t coming, so he didn’t wait.”

“I wasn’t going to come by,” Lee admitted. “I thought he probably wouldn’t want me to, but I wanted to see him before he left, and I—” She stopped, looking up at Jason. “You think he would’ve waited?”

Jason looked almost sorry for her. “He’d always wait for you. You know that.”

There was a hollowness inside her ribcage, expanding outward. Lee felt very small. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Ever since Jason told her when Nasser planned to leave, Lee had told herself resolutely that she wouldn’t see him. She couldn’t. It would only make things harder. He wasn’t interested in seeing her, anyway, or he would’ve asked for her at some point in the last week and a half. Surely he would’ve asked.

But all day, Lee had felt herself winding tighter and tighter, until something inside her finally snapped. She’d rushed from the apartment, desperately hoping she still had time, hoping so hard that her bones hurt.

She’d come because she knew she would always regret not seeing him one last time. But she’d come too late.

Jason’s expression softened. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I was stupid. I waited too long.” Lee took a short breath, willing her eyes to stop burning. “Do you know if Filo gave him the envelope I sent?”

“He did,” Jason said. “I don’t know if Nasser opened it, though.”

“Oh.” Lee didn’t know what else to say.

She was never very good at writing letters, and she was worse at saying goodbye, so she’d sent him flowers instead. Michaelmas daisies. Sweet basil. Volkamenia.
Farewell. Good wishes. May you be happy.
It was the most feeling that she dared to express. Anything more—peach blossoms, red chrysanthemums, snowdrops—would’ve been saying too much and making all of this harder.

She couldn’t tell him that she loved him, so she’d tried to show him with the lines of the sketches, tried to infuse each careful stroke of her pencil with feeling. She wondered if he knew, if he’d been able to tell, if he’d looked at the sketches at all.

“He left with Amelia, then?” she asked finally. “He’s gone?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, looking rueful. As much as he’d wanted Nasser to accept the offer, Lee knew that watching him go must’ve been hard. “Nasser said he had some stuff he needed to go over with her, so I guess they talked for a while first. He sent me a note about an hour ago, right before they left.”