Untouchable (boyxboy)

Chapter 18

I don't know what I was expecting. Helicopters and machine guns, I guess.

Instead, a bored-sounding woman takes all the information I have to offer with the disaffected attitude of a customer service representative listening to someone lodge a petty complaint, and that's that.

Even so, I feel better once it's done. It's out of my hands now—that part, at least. Belle is another matter. I can't, in good conscience, let her marry my brother without knowing what she's getting in to.

I stew in my nerves for several hours until I hear the others return. Dylan and my dad will have gone to their hotel, and the bridesmaids and Dylan's friends have their own accommodations. It's just me, Isaac, Belle, and their parents. I might not get a chance like this again.

Keeping the light off in my room and the door shut, I listen while the others prepare for bed. I hold my breath when I hear Isaac pause outside my door, but after a moment he keeps going down the hall to his own room, not wanting to disturb me if I'm asleep.

I want to see him, of course—more than anything—but I know that if I let him kiss me, or hold me in his arms, I'll waver. I want Belle to know the truth, and I want Isaac to keep looking at me the way he did earlier—to keep believing in a happy future for us—but I don't think that I can have both. One will cost my heart, the other my soul.

If it was just me, I'd probably trade my soul, but it's not. It's not even just Belle, anymore, either. It's her whole family. Dylan's tangled up in something dark and messy, and when it drags him down, I'll be damned if he drags Belle and her family down with him.

Once I'm pretty sure everyone has retreated to their own rooms, I go and knock softly on Belle's door. There's a sliver of light along the bottom edge, telling me she's still awake.

She opens it and peers out at me, dressed in an oversized t-shirt with a big Star Trek logo splashed across the front. I wonder again what brought her and Dylan together.

"Hi, Belle. Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask.

"Hey, Felix." She smiles uncertainly. "Sure, come on in."

She shuts the door behind me, hops onto her bed, and pats the spot beside her.

"What's up? Is everything okay?"

I sit gingerly beside her, heart beating faster with a sudden rush of nerves and sweat prickling across my chest and back.

"Not really," I say. "There's something you need to know, and...I'm afraid it's not good."

"Okay." She regards me patiently, her mid-length, curly brown hair in a simple braid for sleep, and her large, dark eyes soft with curious expectation.

I swallow the bitter tang at the back of my throat and start to speak.

I can't look at her while I do, and keep my eyes fixed on my hands. She doesn't interrupt me, and when my voice starts to shake, she shifts a little closer and rubs her hand gently over my back.

Her reaction is not what I'd expected it to be, and when I finish, neither of us says anything for a moment. Finally, she reaches for one of my hands and squeezes it in hers.

"Felix? I want you to know it's okay. I'm not mad."

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Dylan told me. I know," she says gently. "It's okay."

Speechless, I move away from her and stand. "What the...? How can you be okay with...? Wait, what did he tell you?"

She frowns at me, still looking patient and concerned. "He explained it to me, so I wouldn't be upset," she says. "How you tell lies when you're stressed, and the thing about him and the videos is a story you've told before. He said you can't help it, and that I should just listen and let you talk. It's okay," she says again. "I'm not angry."