“His dad was abusive. Physically, verbally. If Wes even got a B instead of an A in school, his dad would hurt him. After a while he startedonlyhurting Wes, never his brother.”
“Holy shit.”
Niko nods. “Apparently there was some bad shit at school, too. Weston was bullied, but he never did anything about it because he was afraid of what his dad would say. He told some story about a kid pushing him off the top of a tall playground set.”
My chest goes stony.
Niko’s giving me a sympathetic look, now, because he knows that I was treated horribly in elementary school, too.
By the time high school rolled around, I had switched schools and become the resident rebel, and everyone in my new school system respected me. I sold cigarettes like a delinquent out behind the art building, and kidswantedto get in fights with me, like a badge of honor.
But when I was younger, it was a different story.
I know exactly how it feels to be the outcast like that.
I clear my throat, still catching my breath. “Didn’t know that happened to Wes.”
“Me either, until recently. He definitely doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“He’s still infuriating. But that’s horrifying, what he went through.”
“Do you know the full story of what happened last semester, too?”
“Weren’t those attacks on his brother?”
Niko shakes his head. “Both of them, at the end. Weston almost got shot, too. Not just Hunter.”
“Holy fucking shit.”
I had heard about the bad stuff that went down at Onyx last semester, but with my leg injuries, I was holed up at the hospital the day it went down, then recovering at my mom’s house for a week after. I got the gist of the story later on, but never knew how deeply involved Wes was.
“No doubt in my mind Wes has to havesomelevel of trauma from it. It’s sad. He said he hates sleeping alone because he thinks someone’s going to get into his room and hurt him.”
“Another person who doesn’t realize how muchbetterit is to be alone,” I say.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Sev.”
“Fine. I understand. I can understand why he feels that way.”
Niko sighs. “All I’m saying is… give him a little leeway.”
We start up our jog again, looping around the stone buildings on the south side of campus. The clouds start to blow past, and for a brief moment the sun casts bright pillars of light between every tree.
Feelingempatheticwith Wes is unfamiliar.
I don’t like it.
It’s like I’m suddenly wearing a strange coat that fits all wrong.
But there are three-dimensional facets of Weston that I never knew were there.
Kieran’s request flashes through my mind, and it makes me more uncomfortable. I thought the “secrets” I was about to dig up about Weston would be much tamer, gossip or a tidbit about the potential bribery that went down last year.
But these secrets about Wes are different.
And they aren’t ever fucking leaving my mouth.
“Race you back to Red Row,” I tell Niko, and I’m already off before he agrees.