Chapter 2: The Brother Nobody Wanted to Mention
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Aaliyah sat with her shoulders hunched and her hands pressed against her mouth. My mother stood near the kitchen counter, staring at the floor as though the answer might be written between the tiles.
I kept looking at Aaliyah.
"Say his name," I told her.
She shook her head.
"Say it.""
"Nico, please don't do this.""
"Do what? Ask you a question?""
My mother stepped between us, not physically, but with her voice.
"Enough. Both of you need to calm down.""
I turned toward her.
"Did you know?""
Mom's eyes widened.
"Know what?""
"That something happened between them.""
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"Then why do you look like that?""
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
That hesitation was enough to make my stomach turn.
I backed away from her.
"Wow.""
"Nico," Mom said, "don't start accusing people when you don't know the facts.""
"Then let's get the facts!""
My voice bounced off the walls.
Aaliyah jumped, and I immediately hated myself for frightening her. I took a breath and rubbed my hands over my face.
I wasn't trying to scare her.
I was trying to find a single solid thing in a room where everything suddenly felt untrustworthy.
"Aaliyah," I said more quietly, "you told me you were pregnant. Then you brought up Andre. What am I supposed to think?""
She stared at the carpet.
"I didn't plan this.""
"Nobody asked if you planned it.""
"I know.""
"Then tell me what happened.""
She took a trembling breath.
"Your brother came over one night in June.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Which night?""
"The night you went to Malik's house.""
I remembered it immediately.
My friend Malik had been celebrating his eighteenth birthday. I'd left our house around seven, promising Mom I'd be back before midnight. Andre had been staying with us that summer while he figured out his next move.
I'd texted Aaliyah that night.
She'd said she was tired and wanted to stay home.
I'd believed her.
"You told me you weren't feeling well," I said.
"I wasn't feeling well.""
"But you weren't home alone?""
Her eyes filled again.
"Nico, I—"
"Was Andre there?""
She nodded.
My mother gripped the edge of the counter.
"Why was my son visiting you that night?"" she demanded.
Aaliyah looked startled by the question.
"He said he wanted to talk.""
"Talk about what?""
"I don't know.""
"You don't know?"" Mom repeated.
"You let my older son come over while my younger son was out, and you don't know what he wanted?""
"Denise," I warned.
Mom looked at me.
"What? You want me to pretend this makes sense?""
"No. I want you to stop talking to her like she's on trial.""
Aaliyah wiped her nose with a tissue from the coffee table.
"Andre said he was having problems," she whispered.
"He said he didn't have anybody to talk to.""
I stared at her.
"My brother has friends. He has you-know-who from work. He has Mom.""
"He didn't want to talk to them.""
"So he talked to my girlfriend?""
She flinched at the word my.
I noticed.
And somehow that tiny reaction hurt more than the argument.
"Did you kiss him?"" I asked.
She looked at me.
For one brief second, I thought she would lie.
Then she whispered, "Yes.""
My ears began ringing.
I stepped backward until my legs touched the coffee table.
Mom made a small sound behind me.
I couldn't look at either of them.
A kiss.
That was bad enough. It was betrayal, but it was something I could understand. Something I could put into a sentence and maybe, eventually, learn how to live with.
But Aaliyah had mentioned the pregnancy before she mentioned the kiss.
And she hadn't looked surprised when my brother's name entered the conversation.
She'd looked afraid.
I forced myself to ask the question that had been building inside my chest.
"Was it just a kiss?""
Aaliyah pressed the tissue against her mouth.
"Nico…"
"Was it?""
She shook her head.
The room went silent.
My mother turned away and placed both hands on the kitchen counter.
I stared at Aaliyah, waiting for her to take it back.
She didn't.
"When?"" I asked.
"That night.""
"The night I went to Malik's?""
"Yes.""
I laughed again, but there was no humor in it.
"So while I was out celebrating with my friend, my brother was at my house with my girlfriend.""
"Your brother came to my house," she said quickly.
"I didn't go looking for him.""
"That's supposed to make me feel better?""
"No.""
"Did you think about me?""
She started crying harder.
"Yes.""
"Then why?""
"I don't know!""
Her voice cracked so sharply that even Mom looked away.
Aaliyah stood, then immediately sat back down as if her knees couldn't support her.
"I made a terrible decision," she said.
"I know that. I hate myself for it. But I can't change what happened.""
I swallowed.
"Did you tell him about the pregnancy?""
She didn't answer.
I stared at her.
"Aaliyah.""
"Yes.""
The word came out barely louder than a breath.
I turned toward the window. Outside, a little boy rode a blue bicycle down the sidewalk while his father walked behind him, one hand hovering near the back of the seat.
The ordinary world kept moving.
I hated it for that.
"How long have you known?"" I asked.
"About three weeks.""
Three weeks.
I'd spent those three weeks complaining about how distant she'd become. I'd bought her dinner twice. I'd called her every night. I'd asked whether she wanted to go to the movies, and she'd said she was tired.
Three weeks of me trying harder while she carried a secret that could destroy us both.
"Why tell me now?"" I asked.
"Because I couldn't keep lying.""
"Did Andre tell you to keep it secret?""
She looked down.
That was an answer.
My mother pushed away from the counter.
"Where is Andre right now?""
Aaliyah shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"Don't you dare tell me you don't know anything else.""
"Mom," I said.
"No, Nico. That is my son we're talking about, too.""
She reached for her phone, but I caught her wrist gently.
"Don't call him yet.""
She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.
"Why not?""
"Because I want to hear what he has to say before everybody starts screaming.""
Mom studied my face.
For the first time since she'd walked through the door, her anger seemed to make room for something else.
Concern.
"Nico, baby," she said, "you don't have to protect him.""
"I'm not protecting him.""
I released her wrist.
"I'm trying to figure out how long everybody's known something about my life that I didn't.""
Nobody answered.
My mother finally picked up her phone.
Aaliyah stood and reached for her purse.
"Where are you going?"" I asked.
"I think I should leave.""
"That's convenient.""
She stopped.
"I know you hate me right now.""
"I don't know what I feel.""
That was the truth.
I was furious. I was humiliated. I wanted to punch a wall, smash my phone, and call Andre every name I'd ever heard.
But beneath all of that was a terrible, aching uncertainty.
What if the baby was mine?
What if it wasn't?
What if the person I loved had betrayed me with the person I'd spent my whole life trusting?
Aaliyah approached the front door.
"I'll answer whatever questions you have," she said.
"I promise.""
I looked at her.
"Then answer one more.""
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob.
"Does Andre know you're pregnant?""
Her shoulders sank.
"Yes.""
The answer seemed to suck the air out of the room.
My mother lowered her phone.
I took a step toward Aaliyah.
"Does he know you don't know whose baby it is?""
She closed her eyes.
Then she nodded.
I stared at her, unable to comprehend how my brother could know something so important while I stood in the dark.
Aaliyah opened the door.
Before she stepped outside, she turned back toward me.
"He told me he was going to explain everything to you.""
I felt a coldness spread through my chest.
"When?""
She looked down at her phone.
"He said he was coming here today.""
Then she walked out.
The door clicked shut.
My mother and I stood in silence until my phone vibrated on the coffee table.
A message from Andre appeared on the screen.
Ma, don't let Nico call me until I get there. There's something you both need to know.
I read it twice.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
And whatever Aaliyah told you, don't believe she was the only one keeping secrets.
