Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessup says.
“Because I knew you’d try to stop me,” Wyatt says.
“What the hell, man? What were you thinking?”
They’re on the path above the pond now, and it’s Wyatt who stops walking this time. “I know you don’t like Brandon and you don’t trust him, but you’re clueless, Jessup. You really don’t understand, do you?”
“Why don’t you educate me?” Jessup says, and he can hear how sharp his voice is. His first instinct is to apologize, but he holds against it. If he sounds pissed, it’s because he is pissed.
“It’s simple,” Wyatt says. “A couple of summers ago, I think it was between eighth and ninth grade. I was dating Kaylee, I remember that, because I remember that she wasn’t there, so it was either that summer or between ninth and tenth. Hot as hell, had to be ninety, ninety-five degrees. We went out behind your house, walking through the woods to public land and heading to the creek for a swim. Probably walked twenty minutes already, at most five minutes from the creek. We were right in the middle of thick woods, the shade giving us a little respite from the heat, and all of a sudden you jumped and let out a scream.”
Jessup knows the story now. “It wasn’t a scream.”
Wyatt’s amused. “Fine. A shriek, then. Either way, you sounded like a little girl.”
“I almost stepped on a rattlesnake.”
“First of all, it was a copperhead—”
“Bull,” Jessup interrupts. “There are no copperheads around here. It was a timber rattlesnake. Rare, but not impossible.”
“Okay,” Wyatt says. “Fine, whatever. Copperhead, timber rattlesnake, whatever you want it to be. Point is, you jumped and screamed, and you were shaking like a chicken shitting razor blades.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I’m trying to tell you something, Jessup. Just let me talk, okay?” Wyatt’s pleading. He’s not joking around anymore, and the change in tone startles Jessup.
“Okay. Sorry.”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, the thing about it is, they’re both vipers. Lay in wait and bite you when you ain’t expecting it. You got that yellow ‘Don’t tread on me’ flag, and that’s got a timber rattlesnake on it, but it ought to have a copperhead coiled up on it because you don’t see those sons of bitches until you already stepped on one. That’s Brandon Rogers. He’s smart as shit, but he’s also a goddamned viper. He doesn’t care about you. He only cares about making himself look good. You step on him and he’ll bite you.” Wyatt’s talking with his hands, animated. Jessup thinks it’s an affectation he’s taken from Brandon Rogers. “You ask why I didn’t tell you, Jessup, and that’s easy. I didn’t tell you because if I did, you’d have tried to stop me.”
“I—”
“Dammit, Jessup. Shut up,” Wyatt snaps. “I’m saving you from yourself. If I’d told you, you would have freaked out, or you would have made me promise not to do it, and Brandon would have coiled back up and waited, but he’s a snake and he can’t help his nature. Sooner or later he’s going to strike. If I didn’t do it, you really think he couldn’t have found somebody else? And you really think they would have missed their shot?”