Transitions

by Jesikah Sundin

  Toughen up.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Coal said, coming to a stand. “Lyn, shall we?” He offered her his hand and helped her rise. “We will return shortly.”

  “She’s fine,” her dad said, a smile in his voice. Taking another sip of his wine, he casually added, “Lynden has a flair for the dramatic.”

  “Hanley,” Della began with obvious caution, “She looks ill. Even I thought so earlier.”

  “It’s called jealousy.” A smug smile curved in triumph. “Green with envy. She’s trying to manipulate a marriage proposal that will never come.”

  Lynden’s mouth fell open.

  Hanley smiled politely to all the onlookers, before turning sharp eyes her way. “Sit down, Lynden. Everyone is watching you.”

  Too shocked and hurt to think straight, she lowered into her chair. Coal remained by her side, his body rigid. Lynden avoided the whispers and studied her hands, the way each nail was filed and painted. Compared to her mom’s graceful hands, she did look childish. Maybe she was overreacting. She knew Fillion was engaged. Setting a wedding date shouldn’t be that surprising. And getting married had never really mattered to Lynden. New Eden’s view of a bride creeped her out, anyway. Still, the ring Fillion had gifted her seemed to glare at her. She slipped it off and held it in her palm, watching how the dim light reflected off the black band.

  “Sir—”

  “Coal, you know I like your fire.” Hanley leaned back in his chair. “I am surprised, though. She really doesn’t know, does she?”

  “Hanley!” her mom hissed through a forced, plastic smile. Her eyes darted around the restaurant. “She is a nineteen-year-old woman. You no longer decide whether she steps outside for fresh air or not.”

  Her dad gestured for Coal to resume his seat, ignoring her mom. “Impressive,” her dad continued. “I knew you were a man of honor. Always valiant. But this demonstrates an entire level of trustworthiness even I never saw coming.”

  “Enough!” her mom challenged from across the table.

  Lynden’s head was ready to explode. She was tired of people talking about her as if she wasn’t sitting there. Hell, this dinner was supposed to be in celebration of her birthday, not that anyone remembered. Layers of betrayal billowed the heat behind her unraveling self-control and she squeezed her hand into a fist until the black band cut into her palm.

  “What is it that I really don’t know?” she finally ground out. Every head at their table whipped her direction, mouths tight. “I asked a question. What don’t I know?”

  Her mom was the first to look away, unable to shield the spiral of upsetting emotions from her perfect face.

  Coal dropped his gaze to a crumb on the table. A muscle twitched in his jaw and a vein pulsed in his neck.

  Her dad, however, kept a steady, intense gaze, without issuing a single blink. Shadows appeared behind him, laughing at her stupidity. She had never been good enough to belong to this family. Never worth celebrating. Why was she then so surprised by her dad’s exclusive statements? Or that Coal was included?

  “Let me guess,” she ventured. “You’re going to pawn me off on someone, too, and you’ve contracted Coal to pretend to be madly in love with me as a publicity stunt to restore my image until my arranged marriage is to take place?”

  Coal’s head snapped up, his gaze white-hot with anger. “Don’t worry,” Lynden directed at Coal. “I’ve always known we’d never last.”

  “You believe I am pretending?”

  “Lynden,” her mom pleaded. “Your offense is understandable. But, perhaps we should save this conversation for a different venue. May we come to your apartment after dinner?”

  Hanley leaned over the table toward Lynden and whispered harshly, “Stop being so dramatic.”

  “No!” Lynden whispered back. “Does this have something to do with the implant I was required to get? So N.E.T. would know if I got knocked up?”

  Coal’s eyes flared before he blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t act like you didn’t know,” she shot back.

  Remorse clouded his gaze and he whispered, barely above a breath, “I really did not know, Lyn. How long ...”

  “Since I turned eighteen.”

  He sucked in an angry breath and shifted his focus back to the crumb as a flush spread over his face.

  “What? Not going to ask for my hand in marriage to redeem my reputation and your honor?” Tears stung her eyes. Coal refused to meet her waiting gaze and his ensuing silence obliterated every hint of hope she had ever possessed. “Well...” she choked out, but couldn’t continue.

  Her dad was right about one thing.

  The shadows howled in delight, reveling in her pain. In a blinding second, her heart screamed with throbbing torment right before being silenced by a fortress of stone.

  Thin air thoughts.

  They aren’t allowed to see your pain.

  Each muscle in her face relaxed, her gaze disconnecting, seeing everything and nothing all at once. Grabbing her bag, she arched out of her seat and walked with controlled, feline grace out of the restaurant and into the rain.

  The weather echoed the ache knifing through her chest. Turning toward downtown, she cut through the night, swearing that the rain hissed when touching her skin. It would be a long trek, but she didn’t care. It was dangerous, too. What did she have to lose? She opened her palm and stared at Fillion’s ring. A part of her wanted to throw it down a dark alley. No rings. No more gifts from men. No more heartache. Her body jerked as a sob fought for release.

  Her fingers, shaking with rage, slipped the black band back onto her thumb and then released the linden leaf bracelet. With a growl, she chucked it into the darkness between two buildings. The bracelet landed with a distant clatter of metal connecting to cement. The breath in her lungs stopped moving. Oh god. What had she done? It was too late. She knew this day was coming and the only option now was to leave it all behind.

  Her feet, winged with fury, flew over the pavement. Her boots clomped through puddles and trampled over trash. Drones buzzed overhead, some advertising for their employers, most racing to wherever they called home, their job complete. Couples and groups of friends passed by, not a single eye noting her existence. The shadows laughed behind every corner and in the dark patches between streetlights.

  “Leave me alone,” she spat at the shadows.

  “Hello, Ms. Nichols.” A man stepped out from the shadows. She jumped back with a stifled scream. Noting the media droid, she rolled her eyes and began walking faster, her heart still pounding with primal fear. “Is it true that you and Coal Hansen broke up?”

  The words vibrated through her, but she shook them off.

  The media droid continued to shoot questions at her, each one a bullet lodging deep into her body. She felt the blood run cold within her veins. Enough. She’d had enough.

  “Leave me alone!” She screamed, hands fisted at her sides. People now noticed her, stopping in their tracks to gawk at “the scene” she was making. The media droid tipped his head and melted back into the shadows. Weird. They never did that. Wary, she began to turn away and resume her escape, when she caught a glimpse of Coal’s figure running toward her. “Shit,” she breathed. “Toughen up, Rainbow.”

  He stopped before her, rivulets of rain sliding down his face, his hair and clothes soaked through, breath coming in fast. The streetlight above their heads flickered, flashing glitchy light and shadows across his face.

  “Lyn...”

  “I don’t want to talk to you.” She spun on her heel toward downtown.

  “You are playing into his plan.”

  Lynden paused mid-stride and threw her hands up into the air, shouting, “God, I’m so tired of all the lies!”

  “As am I. Please...” Coal’s eyes studied hers, quiet and grim. “Please let us speak somewhere private.”

  “I have nothing to say to you or anyone else!”

  He rolled in his bottom lip. “I love you—
”

  “Don’t.”

  “What do I have to gain in pretending this sentiment?”

  She laughed, the cruel sound rumbled from the empty place in her chest. “You and I both know my dad whored me out to the son of his best friend.”

  The color drained from his face, his pale skin ghostly in the flickering light. “Even if that was his plan,” he whispered, “every action and word I have said to you is real and honorable.” Coal reached out and wove his fingers with hers. “I am in love with you, Lynden.”

  She yanked her hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

  “My sincerest apologies, My Lady.” He bowed with respect. As he rose, he whispered, “I vowed to fight for your heart all the days of my life and I shall.” He swallowed back emotion, and choked out, “But I am most grieved to be the cause of your pain.”

  “Coal ... I release you from your vow.”

  “No.” Coal stepped closer until their bodies almost touched, shaking his head in refusal. In a soft whisper he continued, “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to call you my wife. I am yours, body and soul.” He lifted his hands to cup her face, then remembered her request when she flinched. Hands dropping back to his waist, he said, “However, your father has made it impossible for us to marry.”

  Lynden rolled her eyes with a short laugh. “You can take your New Eden patriarchal honor and shove it up your Martian ass. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks and I don’t need his blessing to get married. It’s my life.” Rain soaked silk clung to her skin and she shivered. “Find a pure, innocent girl who’ll worship your pretty words and gestures, Coal. Don’t contact me. I did my job. You’ve assimilated. We’re done.”

  The fiery anger returned to his eyes and he clenched his jaw.

  She angled through the crowd that had gathered without sparing another look his way. People parted for her, the dumbfounded shock written on their faces. The gaping stares distorted in her vision, the mouths growing long in silent screams. Tears of blood fell from their soulless black eyes, streaking down their cheeks alongside the rain. A cold shudder wended its way through her body and she moved faster.

  Two blocks past where she left her murdered remains for the world’s enjoyment, she called a cab, too frightened to keep walking. Time passed in a blur until she stormed into the apartment, dripping wet and shivering uncontrollably. She marched past Mack into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  The knob turned and stuck, followed by a knock. “Let me in. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  So Coal had called him? That thought should bring her comfort. Instead, it unsheathed a razor sharp fury that finally sliced her in half until the logical, controlled side of herself was destroyed. A raw, animalistic scream surged from somewhere deep and she swept her arm over the counter until objects flew to the other end of the bathroom.

  She bared teeth at her reflection, noting each imperfection: her too wide eyes, every damn freckle, the blood-red hair now laying limp, her tall body and boyish figure. Another wave of grief slashed through her and she grabbed a metal soap dispenser and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered. But not enough. It didn’t even come close to resembling her heart.

  “Lynden!” Mack shouted, banging on the door. “Open the door now!”

  Grabbing another object, she hurled it at the cracked glass and laughed when more glittering pieces fell to the counter. They were pretty. Tiny fragments of glamour. A ruined illusion. A broken spell.

  A mechanical roar came from the other side of the wall. She ignored the drill dismantling the door and grabbed another object and another, throwing them until nothing remained—like her hope. The mirror lay in shards at her feet and she danced on the broken pieces, grinding them beneath her boots.

  The door was tossed to the side and Mack rushed into the room and came to an abrupt stop. “Jesus,” he whispered. His eyes met hers and she cowered beneath the pity and compassion they conveyed. He gently reached out for her and she jumped back.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  He lifted his hands in slow surrender. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I don’t care! I don’t care about anything!”

  “I know.” His eyes filled with tears. “I know.”

  His open emotion battered the stone walls protecting her heart and the sob finally broke free. Her body shook as the groan heaved from her gut. A sound so haunting, so bleak, she was convinced despair uttered her pain in ways words could never describe. Her legs gave out and she fell against Mack, gasping for breath. Cradling her body to his, he picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I didn’t mean...”

  “It’s a mirror. I can replace it. But you?” He eased into a large chair in his bedroom and wrapped a blanket around them both.

  Memories of two years ago flashed in her mind. Images of waking in a hospital bed to the sound of chirping machines and Mack’s face, filled with tears, like in the bathroom.

  The images faded and she clutched his shirt as fresh grief rolled to the surface and spilled out of her. He never said a word. Just let her cry and scream. Let her purge and vocalize all her self-hate and fears, all the while stroking her hair or circling his arms around her. The rage eventually sputtered out, leaving her tongue thick and eyes puffy. But her grief wasn’t over. Tight, clenching pain roiled in her stomach as different memories emerged.

  Stop being so dramatic!

  You’re making a scene!

  Sit down. Be quiet.

  Whore.

  The words mixed with her growing confusion until she blurted, “I’ve never once cared about getting married.”

  “That wasn’t the point.”

  She shifted in Mack’s arms, surprised that he had spoken. Lynden thought back over dinner and tried to find the exact moment she snapped, but her thoughts were hazy. She was so tired. Snippets of moments came rushing back—her stomach not feeling well, Coal wanting to escort her outside for fresh air, the worry in her mom’s eyes. The knot in her gut intensified. Feeling wronged suddenly felt wrong, a disturbance her mind was incapable of making right.

  “If it wasn’t the point, then why’d I lose my shit?”

  “Hanley gaslighted you,” Mack whispered into her hair. Lynden squeezed her eyes shut when he continued. “My guess? He wanted you to break up with Coal. And he wanted it to happen publicly so there was no doubt it happened.”

  You are playing into his plan.

  She reached for her naked wrist. The hollowness in her chest gaped wider when she remembered throwing away Coal’s token of affection. Bile began to rise and she pressed a hand to her gut, and set free the question trembling on the tip of her tongue.

  “Why?”

  “Coal loves you,” Mack whispered. “And Fillion hates Akiko...” Mack opened his mouth like he was going to say more, then shut it.

  Tears sprang to her eyes again and she blinked them away. Queasy sensations continued to move in nauseating circles in her stomach as his words untangled the mess in her head. “I was never good enough for him anyway.”

  “Yeah, because Coal is Mr. Perfect.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Lynden Norah-Leigh Nichols, listen to me.” Mack pulled away to look in her eyes. “A man like Coal understands what it means to play with fire.”

  “Mack—”

  “He burns for you. Burns. And he likes it.” Mack pulled her against him once more. “Sounds like you’re plenty good enough for him.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  Lynden sighed with irritation. “Smart-ass.”

  “Leave my ass out of this, young lady.”

  “OK, mommy.”

  “Mack the Mother Hen says don’t sass me.”

  A flicker of a smile touched her lips. “You’d make a good mommy.”

  “Yeah?” He quietly laughed. “I prefer bossy older brother.
And on that note, don’t ever scare me like that again. Holy shit. No boy is ever worth even a tiny scratch of self-harm, not even Mr. Perfect-Awesome-Farm-Boy. Got it?”

  Tears pricked her eyes again as she nodded her head.

  “But damn, that was an impressive rampage.”

  “I’d curtsy, but—” she stifled a yawn. Lynden sat up and said, “I should go to bed.”

  Mack tightened his hold. “You’re not going anywhere, Rainbow.”

  “What?!”

  “Sorry, Niji Doragon Ōjo. I don’t trust you. The alternative is that I take you to the hospital. Your choice.”

  Spinning the black band on her thumb, Lynden closed her eyes with a shuddering breath. She was too tired to fight. Too tired to tell him that his male pride was gross and ridiculous. But, then again, she had destroyed a mirror and danced on the broken pieces as if they were the graves of her enemies. Dammit. She hated it when he was right.

  Red eyes blinked at her from the far corner of the room.

  “Fine,” Lynden whispered. She buried her face into Mack’s neck to hide from the shadows who were laughing at her. She hated it when they were right, too.

  Friday, March 16, 2057

  The elevator doors opened and Lynden walked into the apartment, bags of groceries hanging off both arms. Soft, melodic minor notes filled the living room and she stilled. Sitting at the wall of windows, her brother peered out over the cityscape, Salish Sea, and Olympic Mountains while fingerpicking a tune, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. The familiar sight pulled a hint of a smile from the bleakness she’d waded through for weeks.

  “You’re back,” she said, ambling toward the kitchen.

  His fingers paused on the strings as he peered over his shoulder. “Need help?”

  “Nah, just play. Keeps the monsters away.” Lynden lowered the canvas bags to the ebony wood floor, happy when the song continued. “Mid-terms complete?”