Page 19 of Open Water
Alex was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall when I came in. Laptop open. Not looking at it.
"Hey."
"Hey." I closed the door.
"How was the rest of your day?" he asked.
"Fine. A&P. Dining hall. Tyler made me look at boats on his phone for forty-five minutes."
"Boats?"
"He wants to buy a used sailboat. I have no idea."
Alex smiled. But it was thin. Something underneath it waiting to come out.
I sat on the edge of his bed. Pulled off my shoes. And slid across the mattress until my back was against the wall, adjacent to Alex. The mattress was better than mine, some kind of memory foam situation that made my Riverside dorm bed feel like a park bench by comparison. I didn't say anything about it. I never said anything about it.
"So," I said. "Tell me."
He closed the laptop and set it on the nightstand.
"Braden didn't do it."
"You said that in the text."
"I know." He pulled his knees up. Arms around them. "I accused him in the parking lot after practice. And he was genuinely pissed."
"What did he say?"
"That blackmail isn't his style. That he comes at people to their face. Which—" Alex tilted his head. "He's right. That's exactly what he does. He cornered me at the party. He's been talking shit since freshman year. None of that is sneaky. It's just… direct."
"Okay." I watched Alex while his mind worked through it all.
"And then he started saying how he really felt which is why I don't think it was him."
"What did he say?"
"Talked about all the pressure his father gives him to beat me. Like his whole existence is this family rivalry."
"Jesus. You legacy guys…"
"He said our fathers use us as extensions. His therapist told him that."
"He has a therapist?"
"Apparently."
I sat with that for a second. The heating vent rattled on.
"So if it's not Braden," I said. "Then who?"
Alex looked at me. Steady. His eyes nervous and almost pleading. "You're not going to like this."
"It's okay. Just tell me."
Alex exhaled.
"I think it's Marcus."
