Free How to Say I Love You Out Loud by Karole Cozzo Page A

a still-damp quality to him from his postgame shower and he
smells like winter, with the smell of fire smoke on his favorite sweatshirt with the Sherpa-lined hood. A particularly rough tackle during the third quarter left a nasty-looking gash above his left
cheekbone. The skin around it looks swollen, and for one moment I allow myself to wish I could reach out and touch him.
    The moment ends, my fingers dig into my knees, and I stare straight ahead.
    He does the same, waiting a minute before asking, “What’s eating you, Michaelson?” He takes a swig from his beer.
    I clear my throat of residual tears. “It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “Stupid.”
    Alex purses his full lips, and then exhales a sigh of frustration through them. “You feel like cutting the bullshit, just for once?”
    I turn toward him in surprise. The game has left him
really
surly.
    His eyes are so dark and full; I’m not used to seeing Alex like this. He raises his eyebrows, his expression still serious. “You jumped down my throat the other day, in independent
study. You never do that. You’re staring into space all the time. So . . . why don’t you just cut the bullshit and tell me what’s going on.”
    “It’s not really the time or place,” I stall, chewing on a ragged thumbnail.
    Alex glances at our surroundings. “Well, I’m here, so it seems to be an okay place. And I can decide how I want to use my time.”
    “Wouldn’t you rather be out there having fun with Leighton?”
    He merely repeats himself. “I can decide how I want to use my time.” His voice has an uncharacteristic edge that I attribute to the alcohol. I don’t see Alex drink much.
“She doesn’t dictate everything, ya know, and her little entourage is plenty big at the moment.”
    Before I can further consider the meaning of his words, Alex nudges my knee with the back of his hand, refocusing my attention. “So whatever it is . . . spill.”
    I think about how to tell him what’s going on while still telling him nothing at all. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to relent. I poke at the dirt with the toe of my shoe,
considering.
    “It’s just hard,” I begin slowly, “hearing people make a joke out of your life. Some things really aren’t that funny and sometimes people just have no
idea.”
    Alex’s brows are drawn in confusion, but he manages a little chuckle. “Umm, count me as one of those people right now. I don’t follow.”
    I focus on the pressure inside my gut, which has been present since my parents first told me about Phillip starting at Valley Forge. It has been building and building, with the incident in the
hallway, with my friends talking about it, with Alex sitting here, demanding an explanation. Sooner or later, I am going to pop. My roiling emotions are reaching a containment limit.
    I close my eyes. “So you heard about what happened the other day? What they were just talking about? During the fire drill?”
    “Bits and pieces.” He shrugs.
    “Yeah, well, some kid, one of the kids who had to come back to Valley Forge when a special school closed, he completely lost it and caused a big scene.” I bury my chin in the neck of
my sweatshirt and tighten my grasp on my knees. My words are barely audible. I can’t believe I’m doing this—saying the words out loud—and my heart pounds against my chest in
protest. “Some kid being my brother, Phillip.”
    Alex doesn’t even blink. He seems entirely unfazed, but it could just be an act, for my sake. He takes another drink from his bottle. “Why didn’t you just say so?” he
asks evenly.
    “I never say so.” I sift through the pine needles with my fingers, letting them fall back to the ground. “Never.”
    He studies me for a minute, trying to understand something before continuing. “For the record, our friends out there, they’re not bad people, right? If they knew he was your brother,
they wouldn’t be talking like that in front of you.”
    “Like that’s