I purposely omit the part about if I found out about them, even though I want to know the truth. I don’t want to know because of what I told Paige last night, but with Kendra standing here in front of me, I can’t help but give in to that desperate need to know all the answers even if they will destroy the memories. Kendra reaches behind her head and tightens her ponytail. Her long blond hair dangles against her back. She has freckles splashed across her face like me, but not nearly as many. She smells of suntan oil and salt and apology and regret.
“Look, I’m really sorry about all of this,” she goes on. “It’s just been really hard on all of us, mainly me and Luke, since Landon’s death. Really hard, you have no idea, and I hope you never have to go through it.”
“Wait a second.” I stop her, waving a hand in front of myself. “What are you talking about? What do you mean Landon’s death?”
She stares at me with a blank expression, though behind it seethes an ocean of confusion and shock. She starts to speak, but at first the words only manage to part her lips. The corners of her eyes crease with deepening lines and she shakes her head looking at the floor.
She looks back up.
“He didn’t tell you?”
No, he didn’t tell me. Suddenly I feel nauseous with grief and guilt. And anger.
I shake my head and move around Kendra to sit on the end of the bed. “I had no idea …” My voice is as distant as my thoughts are.
“Jesus,” Kendra says with disbelief. “I can’t believe he didn’t at least tell you that much.” She turns around to face me and starts to say something else, but I cut in.
“How did he die?” My voice feels a little choked.
She gets really quiet and even her demeanor shifts. Before she seemed eager, ready to talk, but now her shoulders appear to have stiffened and she isn’t as ready to open up anymore.
“If I’d known that Luke hadn’t told you that Landon died, I wouldn’t have even said that much. When it comes to you, it’s more his story to tell than mine.”
“OK, then what did you come over here for?” Now I’m just getting irritated with her, but the pain and sadness I feel for Luke overshadows it.
“To apologize,” she says, “and to clear up anything you might’ve thought you heard.”
“Well, I’m ready to hear it.” Really, I’m not. I’m terrified. I don’t want her to prove me right, that Luke lied about the two of them.
Kendra sighs heavily and then walks over to the table by the window and pulls out a chair. She sits down on it much like a guy would, with her back hunched over, her deeply tanned legs wide apart and her arms resting atop her thighs, her hands dangling freely between them. She’s beautiful, but definitely one of the guys.
“Luke needs just as much professional help as he says I do,” she explains, “but he’s also as stubborn as I am, too, and won’t admit it.” She slashes a hand in front of her. “But I didn’t come here to talk about Landon—I can’t talk about Landon.” She sighs. “When Seth told me how devastated Luke was that you’d left last night, I felt like shit. I know it’s no excuse, but I was only ever trying to look out for him. I didn’t mean to hurt him—Look, I just came here to tell you that Luke is an awesome guy. He’s golden, Sienna, and if you let him pass you by … I just think it’s a huge mistake, is all.”
“From what I heard last night,” I say resentfully, still skeptical of her sincerity, “you don’t want me within five feet of him.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says, shaking her head again and gesturing her hand. “I totally admit that I said some messed-up shit, things I shouldn’t have said. But you’ve gotta understand that I really do love him like a brother, and he’s been through so much and he means everything to me. I know it sounds clichéd, but I just don’t want to see him get hurt. Especially right now. It’s too soon. He hasn’t even come to terms yet with Landon’s death and I’m just so afraid that if something else happens before he can find some closure, he might lose his shit, y’know?”
I nod slowly. I do understand, as much as I can anyway, only being someone looking in at the situation from the outside and not having all of the details.
“Luke is better around you,” she goes on. “Since you came here he’s changed. He’s happier—I dunno, like I said, he’s just better around you. I just think you should at least give him a chance to explain.”
“If I ask you something,” I speak carefully, “will you answer me honestly and not get offended? Because I’m not trying to offend you in any way.”
“Sure.” She shrugs her petite shoulders and raises her back out of a slouch, resting it against the chair. “As long as it’s not about Landon. I don’t talk about Landon.” There was a harshness in her words this time that I recognize right away as unbridled pain seething beneath the surface—she’s at as much risk of losing her shit as she says Luke is; this much is clear to me.
I nod, agreeing, and then prepare my question, but I’m so nervous about the answer that I literally feel sick to my stomach; tiny beads of sweat are beginning to form in my hairline. I take a deep breath and try to compose myself, try to prepare myself for the truth, no matter how deeply it’ll cut into my bones to hear it, if I turn out to be right.
Licking the dryness from my lips, I look back at her and say, “Has anything ever happened between you and Luke?”