by Sara Wolf
“I don’t know what happened,” Wolf said, green eyes suddenly distant, and he stopped spinning his ring. “I don’t remember it at all, and that’s the scariest part. I just remember going to school that morning, tired, so, so tired, and then he said something, and everything after that is a black hole where memories should be.” He looked down at the sheets, studying the threads like his life depended on it. “The next thing I remember, I was in the principal’s office. And I never saw Mark again. Until the semi-finals.”
“I’m….so sorry, Wolf.”
“It’s fine. It’s over. That’s all that matters.”
“No, that’s not!” I sat up straighter. “It’s a huge step that you’re telling someone. Me.”
“It’s just words,” he muttered.
“It’s a really positive indicator,” I assured him. “It means you’ve had enough time between the event and the present to start forming a retrospective viewpoint.”
“And that’s supposed to be good?” He snarled.
“It’s better than reliving the past, and the pain.”
Wolf was quiet. The air seemed heavy, like it was trying to suffocate the both of us. I had to do something. So I reached my arms out.
“C’mon.”
Wolf glared. “What?”
“C’mon. Give me a hug.”
“I thought you said you weren’t giving those out to me, anymore.”
“I can make an exception this once.”
Wolf sat on the bed, warily, looking every bit like the creature of his nicknamesake. He muttered something, but it was too low to hear.
“What?” I asked.
“I said,” He cleared his throat. “Is it – is it alright if I…no, shit, that’s going to sound stupid, or creepy. Or both.”
“What is it? Don’t leave me hanging.”
The faintest redness crept up on his high cheekbones. “Would it be alright…if I put my head on your lap?”
I almost laughed at how adorable he looked, but then realized that’d be a shitty thing to hear from someone you asked something so personal of. I nodded, instead.
“Sure. If you don’t mind damp clothes.”
I flattened out my legs, and he laid down on the bed on his side, easing his head onto my lap. It was awkward for a moment, until my hands - itching for something to do - found his hair. Slowly, I pet his head.
“Is this okay?” I asked. A contented ‘hm’ noise was all I got from him. I kept my strokes slow and gentle. His hair was so beautiful – the color of a raven’s feather, and just as soft. The shaking in his shoulders slowly receded, until he was completely still, only his breathing moving his chest up and down.
“Thank you, Wolf.”
“For what?” He asked.
“Telling me about Mark.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “It felt like the right time. To tell somebody.”
“Oh, so I’m not special.”
“I never said that. There you go, inferring things again.”
I laughed. “I was kidding.”
“Your humor sucks.”
“So does your face, but you don’t see me complaining about it, do you?”
“Constantly. All that comes out of your mouth is a steady stream of insults about my nose and eyes.”
“You have nice eyes,” I admitted. I felt him go stiff on my lap. “What? I’m sure a lot of people have said that. Can’t I tell the truth?”
“No, it’s just –” He breathed out. “It’s different. Hearing it from you.”
“Different how? Good, or bad?”
“Good.” He asserted. “The best it’s ever sounded. I could listen to you complimenting me forever.”
“Well now, that’s just your ego talking,” I said. “And I’d hate to feed that thing. It’s already massive.”
“With the weight and density of a black hole,” He agreed.
The noise of the music was dulled through the walls, to the point it almost sounded like a whisper. The party itself felt like a far-off dream, like the only real things were in this room, with Wolf and I. I felt like I was in a bubble with him, a space made warm and safe and gentle, something that soothed all the frayed nerves in my head better than the drugs ever could. It didn’t matter that my clothes were soggy and breathing was a little hard. All that mattered was I was alive, here, with someone else close to me to prove it with their body heat and pressure of their whole being. Wolf steadily turned a ring on his hand, and I cleared my throat.
“I never asked you about those rings. Why do you wear so many? Is it, like, a coping mechanism?”
He shrugged. “Sort of. When I wear these it feels like – even if someone approaches me – I’ll be able to defend myself. If someone tries to hurt me again, at least my punch will hurt worse than theirs with all this metal.”
“That….makes a twisted sort of sense.”
“And it takes my mind off the present,” He said. “If I turn a ring, I concentrate less on how close people are to me.”
“So they’re like tiny distractions.”
“Yeah. It’s stupid, but –“
He swallowed, and I smiled.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to laugh. Much.”
“It’s stupid,” He repeated. “But the more I have of them, the safer I feel.”
“That’s how I am,” I agreed. “With books. Textbooks, actually. About mental health. The more I have, the more I feel like my dad is safe. They’re just words that teach you techniques, and they aren’t really effective without proper training but I still –“
“You still need them to feel okay,” He finished for me. I nodded.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
We soaked in the silence. I was starting to feel more and more, the wonderful-awful numbness of the drug draining out of my body oh so slowly.
“I was worried,” Wolf said, voice hoarse. “That you’d never wake up again.”
“I had a few things left to do,” I teased. “So I decided to come back.”
He didn’t chuckle, or smile at the joke. He just stared up at me.
“Do you know why I tried to take your scholarship away?”
“Because I pissed you off and you’re a naturally petty jerk?”
“Because I was afraid,” He said. “I still am.”
“Of what?”
A shadow came over his gaze. “You.”
My world felt like it was being sucked in by him, like the two green pools below me were pulling all the light from the room and air from my lungs. I forced a nervous laugh.
“I’m not that scary.”
Something shifted in his face – the gentle edges of it hardening, like lava cooling over. It was almost like he realized something. He sat up suddenly, and got off the bed.
“Did I…say something wrong?” I asked.
“No,” He adjusted his cuffs, his pinstripe shirt rumpled from the bed. “I was just finished with trying to touch someone. There’s only so much stimulus I can take before it becomes unbearable.”
“R-Right,” I stammered, thrown off by how business-like his voice was. Impartial. Uncaring. Completely different from the ragged voice of the boy who’d just confessed his darkest past to me not a minute ago.
“Thank you,” He said. “For lending me your services.”
“Um. You’re welcome?”
He nodded curtly, and left through the door, closing it behind him and leaving me a bewildered, still-damp mess. Feeling like I did something wrong somehow, I locked the door and dried my clothes off on a nearby heater, wrapping myself in the comforter in the meantime. Someone had taken my phone out of my pocket, and I tapped on the buttons experimentally. It took a few seconds, but the phone booted up. It shut down immediately when I tried to access my text messages, but with a bit of persuasion I managed to turn it back on and read through the first one quickly before the phone shut off again.
It was Mr. Blackthorn. My stomach dropped.
Bee, I hate contacting you like this, for fear of Fitz finding it, but I thought we had an arrangement to meet tonight, just as we did last week and the week before. Please come to Ciao Bella at your earliest convenience – I will be waiting until the place closes at 12.
Shit, shit! I totally forgot. I was so wrapped in getting out of the house, and the drugs, and everything going on that I completely forgot! Was I okay to drive? I tested it by walking back and forth in a line on the floor, my steps steady. Okay, yeah. I didn’t drink any booze, so I should’ve been fine. I threw my clothes on and raced out of the room, looking for Fitz. I found him upstairs, curled in a corner of a couch with Keri and resting his head on her shoulder dejectedly. Burn threw him dirty looks from across the room. I ran up to Fitz.
“Hey, am I okay to drive?” I asked.
Fitz buried his head in Keri’s shoulder farther to avoid looking at me. Keri rolled her eyes and forced him off.
“Come on, you owe her a sentence at the very least,” Keri chided.
“Don’t worry about the pool thing, okay? I’m fine, see?” I showed off with a twirl, but Fitz just glowered at the carpet by my feet.
“It’s worn off by now,” He grumbled.
“Great!” I smiled and patted his head. “I’ll see you later, then. Tell Burn and Wolf to have a good night for me, will you?”
He didn’t reply, Keri flashing me an ‘I’m sorry’ smile. I waved it off and made towards the door. It was strange – whispers followed me. And not the quiet kind.
“She fell in the pool and almost drowned.”
“Didn’t someone call an ambulance?”
“Wolf gave her CPR, so she didn’t need it,” Someone laughed.
My hand froze, hovering over the front doorknob. I pushed myself to open the door, to walk out and act natural even as my head whirled chaotically. CPR. That meant, like, thumping on my chest, right? That was it. That was all. There wasn’t any mouth-to-mouth involved, except there definitely was, because it was CPR and oh god my life was over, I smiled at him like nothing had happened between us but he definitely, definitely put his lips on mine –
I winced with every step back to the car. I was so casual in the room! No wonder he looked uncomfortable the entire time we were in there together! He’d – I’d – We’d –
I plunked my head against the steering wheel and told myself to take deep breaths. It was just lips. Who cares? He basically saved my life – that’s way more important than the fact it was a semi-kiss. It could’ve been the worst person at that party who gave me CPR – Taryn or Anna, or maybe that one guy who refused to pull his eyes from any girl’s chest – and I still would be grateful to them for saving me. I’d been stupid for even entertaining Fitz’s drug stuff in the first place! Desperation nearly killed me, tonight.
The roads, empty and bathed in moonlight, looked somehow more beautiful than ever. Maybe it was the near-death experience. Maybe it was the crushing embarrassment from making shitty decisions at a very public party. Maybe it was the fact Wolf and I technically kissed. Maybe it was the fact I let Wolf Blackthorn put his head on my lap when I’d expressly told him I’d never help him again. I guess it was payment for saving me. I could rationalize it a hundred different ways, but the fact of the matter was I’d gone back on my word. And the worst part? I didn’t care. It felt nice, helping. Being needed. Even if I couldn’t help Mom and Dad, I could help Wolf Blackthorn, at the very least.
And now I was on my way to stab him in the back.
I couldn’t do it anymore. This was it. I couldn’t keep spying for Mr. Blackthorn. I’d tell him I didn’t want to do it anymore, that I quit. And whatever happened because of it, I’d deal with it. I’d gotten myself into this mess. The least I could do was get myself out of it.
Even if it meant risking NYU. Even if it meant risking everything I’d worked so damn hard for. I couldn’t keep doing this. Not after everything.
I’d find another way to help Dad. I’d find another way to keep my scholarship. It would be okay. I hugged myself a little as I got out of the car in the Ciao Bella parking lot. It would all be okay. It had to be. You have to make it okay, Bee. For you, and for Dad, and Mom, and the Blackthorn brothers. They’re all relying on you.
Ciao Bella was practically empty by the time I made it. I checked my phone, shaking it a little to get it to turn on – it was 11:47. I pushed into the doors breathlessly, my heart beating against my chest. Mr. Blackthorn sat in the back, looking like the perfect picture of serenity and calm. That only made me more nervous. This was the most powerful man on the school board, and I was about to tell him to go stick his head up his ass. Politely.
“Hi, Mr. Blackthorn. Sorry I’m late.”
His handsome face crinkled with a smile.
“It’s quite alright. I heard from Kristin you were at a party. Doing some research for me, I assume. How kind of you.”
“Uh, yeah, about that.” I twisted a napkin in my hands. “Thank you for, uh, the offer and all, but I’m quitting.”
Mr. Blackthorn didn’t react, only taking a slow, even sip of his coffee. He looked as if I hadn’t said anything, as if my voice was silence.
“I’m not doing it anymore,” I insisted. “The spying thing –“
“If it’s your scholarship you’re worried about, fret not, Miss Cruz. I’ll honor my agreement. You have it in writing, as well.”
“It’s not that –“
“Then what is it?” Mr. Blackthorn asked, a little sharper than before. “Is it my sons? Are they hurting you? Being cruel? Can you not set aside your feelings for a few simple weeks and endure it for the sake of your future?” He sat back in the booth and sighed. “I thought you were a stronger girl than that.”
He was trying to manipulate me. All the textbooks signs were there. The belittling, the ‘you’re better than that’. His bodyguards, the usual two huge men in suits, didn’t even blink.
“Listen, Mr. Blackthorn,” I started. “I was scared, at the time I agreed to all this.”
“As you should be!” He nodded. “Your father is very sick, Miss Cruz. And who knows with an illness like his – he could get worse at any moment. The more you learn at Lakecrest, the better you’ll be able to help him. NYU has one of the best programs in the country. Just think – in three years, you’ll come home for summer break and his health will improve remarkably. I can promise you that.”
I was quiet. Mr. Blackthorn leaned forward.
“Miss Cruz, I understand you’re under quite a lot of stress, from both my sons and your own family. I highly appreciate all you’ve done for me so far. You must allow me to give you a token of my gratitude.”
I watched him, in a daze, as he took his checkbook out and scribbled. He passed a check to me, my eyes bugged out at the numbers.
“N-No way –“
“This will cover the exact psychotherapy costs of a good friend of mine – Dr. Mirelle. He’s downtown, but he is quite good, and he specializes in depression and anxiety. This is enough for two weeks of intensive therapy. I know your family can’t afford such care, so it’s only proper of me to help where I can.”
I stared at the number, the plain ink stark against the crisp paper. Five thousand dollars. It was the most money I’d ever held in my hands. His signature was right there - this wasn’t a fake or a joke. This was a lot of money, offered to me for free. Free? I knit my eyebrows – no, not free. Mr. Blackthorn was just as cunning as ever. This money came with a price – if I accepted, I basically had no choice but to keep spying for him. It wasn’t even an option if I took the money – I had to do it. The check started to feel as heavy as an iron chain in my hands. With this, Dad could get better. Maybe not permanently, but for a while. He could get the help he so desperately needed – the help we couldn’t afford. Maybe it would smooth things out between him and Mom, things that were rapidly going downhill. It was a long s
hot, but it was better than letting them keep yelling at each other until the resentment built up so high they couldn’t handle each other anymore.
I felt sicker than ever before. No – I couldn’t take this money. Not while it came at the cost of betraying the brothers. Betraying Wolf.
I slid the check back to Mr. Blackthorn across the polished wood table.
“I’m sorry,” I swallowed. “But I can’t take this. And I can’t keep spying for you. So. I’m done.”
“Which one of them was it?” Mr. Blackthorn’s gaze went flat, irritated.
“What?”
“Which one of them did you fall for? Was it Fitz? No – you strike me as a Wolf type of girl.”
“I’m not –“
“I understand my sons are handsome, and that teenage girls likes you enjoy putting handsome boys on pedestals of worship,” He sighed. “But he’s never going to feel the same way about you. Do you honestly think you’re the first to spy for me and fall for one of them? Kristin let her emotions for Burn cloud her judgement the same way, and it ruined everything. Don’t be one of those women, Miss Cruz, the ones who ruin their future for a love they’ll never have.”
I sputtered. “You’re totally misunderstanding me –“
“On the contrary. I understand very well. You’re having reservations. But that’s only because you’ve lost sight of your goal. You can have everything you want, Miss Cruz. It’s only a matter of telling me simple facts about my sons – things anyone could tell me.”
“If anyone can tell you, why don’t you ask them?” I stood up. “I’m leaving.”
“You realize,” He raised his voice, stopping me in my tracks on my way to the door. “That once you walk out that door, I will most likely approve my son’s request to rescind your scholarship.”
I clenched my fist, but Mr. Blackthorn just pressed on.
“He’s my son, but he’s also exposed many student’s poor behaviors, all of which go against Lakecrest’s rules. I enforce these rules, as is my job as head of the school council. If he recommended a student have her scholarship taken away, then I must assume he has evidence you’ve broken our rules, and therefore I will redact your scholarship. You would, of course, be unable to pay the costs of attending Lakecrest, and therefore you would not come to school.”