chapter 30
JULIAN POLE
Marco's been talking for what feels like hours.
About Jace. About growing up together. About how his big brother used to take punches for him in high school and how he once got suspended for decking a kid who called Marco "soft."
He's sitting in the chair by the window, one leg crossed over the other, a bag of chips in his lap that he's been crunching through like it's oxygen.
I've been pretending to listen.
Nodding every now and then, maybe smiling when he laughs, but honestly, my head's somewhere else.
Everything feels heavy. The room. My chest. The air.
Everything.
I'm so fucking scared I think I'm gonna shit my pants. I've been glancing at the time for what feels like forever and I don't see Jace or my friends. Marco is obviously avoiding talking about them.
"You know," Marco says, tossing another chip into his mouth, "he's not really how people think he is. My brother, I mean."
That gets me to look up. "What do you mean?"
