Nobody Knows (6 page)

“Why didn’t Jason consider that?”

“Because he’s Jason. He’s so busy trying to do what he thinks is best for the band, he doesn’t think about anyone else. He’s a selfish prick.”

“He’s not
that
bad. I just want him to consider what he’s asking before steaming ahead and trampling on everyone around him.”

“As I said, a selfish prick.”

Right there. That was what I’d worried about since the feud started. It was obvious from Drew’s mood that sooner or later the resentment would take over and he wouldn’t be able to hold his anger in any longer. I refused to be pulled into a battle of petty name-calling though, even if Drew’s words held a glimmer of truth.

“You need to stop.” I shrugged free from his hold and turned towards the mess of a painting left unfinished on my easel. “If you really don’t want me in the middle of all this, you need to stop talking right now.”

I picked up my paintbrush, my hand and swept black lightning bolts onto the paper, interspersed with the occasional cloud. It looked like a child’s attempt at drawing the weather, but the point of the exercise was not to create a masterpiece. It was to use art to clear my head, and right then, my head space was cloudy with a chance of storms.

At least ten minutes passed before I checked whether Drew still in the doorway. He hadn’t made a sound, so perhaps he’d gone home while I smeared my frustration across the canvas.

He hadn’t moved. He watched me from the exact position I’d left him in, his eyes a mixture of sad and tired, his lips set in a firm line.

“I miss your smile.”

The words sort of came out of nowhere, but they were true. He’d always had this older-than-his-years look, but since the beginning of the year, his forehead had been almost permanently wrinkled, his mouth down-turned. The first time I saw him laugh in ages was during the Glasgow sound check, when I’d been mucking around on stage. His smile made his eyes shine and took away the impression he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

“Talk to me, Drew.”

“I don’t think you want to hear me.”

I dropped my paintbrush carelessly on top of my paints and picked up an old rag to wipe my hands.

“I don’t want to hear you tell me how selfish you think Jason is.”

“Then there’s nothing else to say.”

He started to turn away, and I threw the paint-stained cloth on the floor, frustrated because I hated being part of this tug of war. Hated that the one time Drew wanted to open up, I pushed him away.

Hated that he didn’t get how awkward it was to be stuck between my best friend and the man who consumed my thoughts.

“Wait.”

“No, you’re right.” Drew headed for the door, forcing me to follow so I could hear him. “You can’t be in the middle, which means I can’t talk to you.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Stop. Please.”

His pulse pounded against my fingertips but I didn’t loosen my grip. Instead, I held firm until the rise and fall of his shoulders slowed.

“I thought I could handle all this, but I can’t. I’ve got more TV interviews next week, and I… I don’t want to keep bringing up all the crap from the past. I never wanted any of this.”

“Why you didn’t say so before it started?”

“I thought it would be okay. I didn’t expect to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s real.”

Drew’s eyes met mine with such heaviness behind them, the only thing I could think of to do was hug him. He didn’t put his arms around me right away. When he did, he held me tightly, his chin rested on the top of my head.

I never knew it was possible to feel someone’s pain through a hug before. Everywhere our bodies touched seemed to tingle with Drew’s sadness, like some kind of emotional osmosis, and my chest ached for him.

What hurt one of us, hurt us all – like The Three Musketeers, but with drums and guitars instead of swords.

“I don’t hate him, Ells. I don’t want you to think that.”

“I never thought you did. I know why you feel the way you do, and I understand. Your whole life has revolved around Jason, but you underestimate yourself. You’re not doing so badly.”

He let go of me, and slowly paced the hallway. “I know I’m lucky, but I’ve wasted so much time looking out for him, and when he hits rock bottom, he still comes out on top. If it was me, if I was the screw up, I wouldn’t have what he has. He always lands on his feet.”

I wrapped my arms around myself to replace the warmth lost when Drew moved away from me. “He lands on his feet
because
he has you. If you’d left him to go his own way, he would have kept on making mistakes. Maybe you should be proud of that instead of angry.”

Drew shook his head. “I don’t think you understand at all.”

“So tell me.”

He scrubbed his hands roughly through his hair. “I did, but like always, like everyone else, you’re only focused on the end result, not all the shit I went through to get there.”

“Hey.” I caught his arm again to make him stop. “I was there too, remember? I watched you go through hell while you tried to help Jason, and I remember how much of a bastard he was to both of us, but what’s the point in stewing over it?”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I should have expected that from you. You were always out with him, getting drunk. It didn’t help.”

I flinched as his words flew out and hit me; as forceful and penetrating as spears stabbing through my chest. Drew was always only one touchy comment away from reminding me he was the adult and I was his brother’s childish friend. It still hurt every time he pulled out that particular card. Did he think I didn’t regret the “old days” when Jason and I got hammered most nights, and did stupid stuff like falling asleep in a drunken heap outside Jason’s flat because we were too pissed to get through the door? It didn’t take long for me to realise nursing hangovers and vomiting up last night’s kebabs was
not
how I wanted to live my life.

“Getting drunk on a few nights out is hardly the crime of the century!” I snapped. “You weren’t the only one who kept him out of trouble. The times I had to stop him getting into stupid, petty fights over spilled drinks. The times I wrestled drugs out of his hands! I sat with both of you when he was completely off his brain to be sure nothing bad happened to him. If anyone drove him to it, it was you! Always telling him he was being stupid. If you’d backed off, he might have figured things out for himself!”

Drew stared at me then his eyes closed. I knew I’d gone too far, but he had too. Just as I’d wanted to punch him in the face a second ago, I’d have done anything to take away the pain that kept him locked in the horrible place he couldn’t forget.

“Do you ever blame yourself?” Drew asked. “Do you ever think you should have done more to stop Jason doing the things he did?”

I slid my hand down his arm, and clasped my fingers around his. “Of course. But deep down I know there was nothing. They were
his
choices. What could I do to stop him?”

His voice dropped, and his eyes locked onto mine. “Nothing. Just like I couldn’t do anything. It doesn’t seem fair. We had the same chances, but he messed up and he still gets everything. It’s the same with you.”

“What is?”

“He was the one who dragged you up on stage and got you in the papers, and you still forgave him. All he has to do is smile, and you forget that he fucked up. You might think you care about us equally but you’ve always favoured Jason. Right from when we were kids.”

Kids. That’s all we were when we met, and Jason
was
my favourite Brooks brother back then. I adored him, because children don’t want to hang around with people who never let loose and do something ridiculous just because. Jason was the person I had the most fun with, while Drew was serious and sensible. So many times he rolled his eyes when Jason and I built snowmen in the front yard or had water balloon fights in his garden. We’d walk through the house, drenched and giggling, and Drew would sigh at our immaturity. I wanted him to play but he always refused, always had more grown-up stuff to do. As I got older, I understood Drew had always carried extra responsibility, but now as adults, he still wouldn’t let go of a time I had long since left behind me.

“When we were kids, Drew, you would barely give me the time of day. Of course I preferred him. Now-”

“What?”

I glanced down at our still joined hands.

“Things are different.”

Following my gaze, he pulled away and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets like a moody teenager. Thirty-one years old, and he’d morphed into a fourteen-year-old again. I wanted to pull his hand back, to be wrapped in his arms, or to run my fingers across his cheek the way I did in the club.

Without a coherent thought in my brain, I placed my hand on his face, then pressed my lips against his. Drew froze long enough to make my heart still, before his arms snaked around me. His mouth moved against mine slowly, like he wanted to savour every second.

Has he wanted this as long as I have?

The question had barely formed before he shoved me backwards away from his warmth.

“What the hell are you doing?” He stared at me as if I’d committed the worst crime ever.

A little shaken from being launched halfway down my hallway in his desperation to get me away from him, all I could do was blindly shake my head.

“I… I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t mean to kiss me? Then what
was
that? Your way of trying to make me feel better?”

“No! I-”

“If you’d listened to anything I said tonight, you wouldn’t have done that.” Drew kept his voice low. “I’m used to being second best, and I know I’ve always been second best with you, too. But you’ve never made me feel that way more than you have tonight.”

My heart began a slow descent to my stomach. His accusation that I’d fuelled Jason’s drug habit was a low blow, but it didn’t cause half as much pain as realising I’d hurt Drew. My insides withered under his gaze, making me ache in places I didn’t know I had inside me. I couldn’t stand it, the intensity in his eyes.

He took a step towards the door, his head lowered, and his slight movement scared me. I had to say something to make him stay, because if he left before I figured out what I wanted to tell him, the moment would pass and we’d both be too awkward to ever bring it up again.

Can’t make this worse, Ellie. Whatever happens, things will never be the same.

I couldn’t afford to stumble over my explanation. If I threw out words that weren’t completely honest, I’d only hurt him more.

The kiss wasn’t about wanting to make him feel better. It was about how he always protected me. How I felt his pain as if it was my own. How we both darted out of the club as soon as the coast was clear to go back to the hotel and watch a movie together.

It was about the man I’d grown up with, not the man who’d never grown up.

Still, the words wouldn’t come out.

“I need to go home,” Drew said. “We shouldn’t leave things this way, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Drew, wait.”

“I can’t, Ellie.” He raised his head to look at me. “I can’t.”

This time, I knew I couldn’t stop him, so when he opened the door I let him go. He didn’t look back.

I spent the rest of the evening curled up on my window seat, looking out over St. Ives Bay. In the dark of winter, the town was beautiful with the lights from the houses below, and the moonlight shining on the sea. I reached for my phone to call Drew at least ten times, but I didn’t have a clue what to say. No matter how I rearranged the words in my head, I couldn’t find the combination that would make him understand why I kissed him. I knew how his mind worked. He wouldn’t believe me unless I gave him a specific date – rounded to the nearest hour – when I stopped having feelings for Jason, plus an exact breakdown of my thought process before my lips touched his. I didn’t have that kind of explanation in me; that’s not how it works.

But it’s exactly how Drew works.

He was supremely obsessive about things that meant a lot to him. If he couldn’t analyse and pick the situation apart until it made sense, it wasn’t worth the risk. He’d lived his whole life that way. After his mum died, for a while he was the only one who could take care of Jason. Their dad did the best he could, but the loss of his wife crippled him. At twelve years old, Drew became responsible for more than any child should ever be, and learning how to weigh up consequences so young was something he’d never been able to shake. Instead of loosening up, the need to be in control, to protect himself and the people he loved had only got stronger.

Unfortunately, understanding him didn’t make this any easier.

A knock at the door threw me out of my thoughts, and I glanced at the clock. A little past eleven. It had to be Drew. Nobody else would drop by so late. I untucked my legs from beneath me and ran to let him in.

When I opened the door, Drew made no move to come inside. He stood in the hall, hands in pockets, looking as confused as when he left. His hair was a dishevelled mess, and he was rocking his all-too-familiar furrowed brow.