by C. L. Stone
I did want it. Did I want it with Kota and the others? It was hard to trust them when I was still getting used to them, wondering if one day they’d leave or not knowing what to expect. It was one thing to be a friend. This was different, wasn’t it? I sighed, pressing my cheek against his chest and settling into him. I couldn’t find the words to respond. I did want it, though I didn’t know what it was enough yet to understand it.
He seemed to understand. He held me against him, his thumb tracing along my palm and his other hand massaging my back. It felt good. Awkward. Warm. Confusing. Would I ever be able to relax and simply enjoy his touch without worrying? Was I supposed to enjoy this at all?
A soft buzzing broke the silence. He grunted. The hand holding mine pulled away and he reached into his back pocket for his phone. I pulled my head back from his chest to give him room. He glanced at the screen and pushed a button to answer it. “North? Yes, she’s here. No, don’t use the D2-28. There’s a reference bar.” He paused. “The screen should say ‘repeat’ or ‘replay’. It doesn’t? Call Victor. Let him know to take a look at it.”
He continued to talk in codes and riddles I didn’t understand. North was already awake working on secret Academy projects. Victor was either awake or was about to be woken up if North actually called him. What had the boys up so early? Or was this normal for them?
Creaking sounded on the stairs, heavy and irregular. I gasped, sitting upright, trying to make sure I heard correctly. Yes.
Crap, not now.
My fingers sought out Kota’s mouth as he was telling North another code. I closed his lips, getting off his lap and pushing him toward the attic. It took only a fraction of a second for him to realize what was happening. He smashed his phone to his chest and did a back roll off the bed, opening the attic door and disappearing.
The door handle rattled. Knocking followed. “Sang,” my mother called from the door.
My hands shook and I checked the room for anything out of place. I kicked Kota’s book bag under my bed. I crossed the room, unlocking the door and peeking out.
My mother leaned against the frame. The IV had been taken out. She had replaced her robe with a clean one, but she was sweating again. Her eyes were wild. “Who are you talking to?”
I rubbed at my eyes, faking a yawn. “Talking?”
“I heard a man speaking.”
I tilted my head. “The radio?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. Her shoulders heaved as she breathed heavily. It must have been an effort to walk up the stairs. Was she in pain? “Your radio isn’t on now.”
“I flicked it off when you knocked.”
She frowned. “Why do you lie to me?”
My eyes widened. “I’m not.”
“I can tell when you lie,” she said. She pressed her palm against her cheek. “Sang, you lie and you lie. That’s all you’ve done this week.”
My heart tripped to a stop. Did she remember the stool and the shower now?
She entered the room and out of years of habit, I backed away against the wall. Her eyes scanned the room. “Why did you move things around?”
“I was trying something different,” I said, my voice catching at the end as I trembled. I was embarrassed that Kota was listening to this. “Are you hungry? I’ll make breakfast.”
She stumbled to the bookshelf, her face contorting. “What’s behind here?” she asked.
“The attic door,” I said. “It’s kind of ugly and I was trying to think of something...”
She grasped the top of the shelves and heaved it. The shelf slanted back, teetered for a brief second, before it crashed against the wall. The radio cracked between the shelf and the floor. The books flew and scattered. The fan that was behind the shelf smashed against the attic door and held the bookshelf crookedly, blocking the half door.
“Don’t lie to me,” she howled.
I forced myself against the wall to remain standing, wrapping my arms around myself as I was shaking so bad.
There was another creak. The attic door was opening, but stopped short because of the bookshelf in the way. Kota was going to come for me if I didn’t find a way to stop him, or was he trapped?
“We should go downstairs and get something to eat,” I said as loud as I could. The rattling at the attic door stopped. He understood. I wasn’t hurt. “I’ll make eggs and toast.”
“Stop deflecting,” she said. Her fingers flexed against her palms. She swayed on her feet. “You’ve moved your room around. There’s voices coming from your room. You’re lying to me. Something’s going on and you’re going to tell me right now.”
I didn’t know how to respond. My mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. I couldn’t think of another lie.
She stomped across the floor. “Downstairs,” she said, her tone cold. “Now.”
I moaned softly but stepped into the hallway, obeying and padding my way downstairs. This was better. I was leading her away from Kota.
I wasn’t hurt and I wasn’t being told to sit in the bathroom, so this was a good thing, right?
My mother clutched the bannister as she stepped slowly down and into the foyer. She snapped her fingers at me. “Stay right here,” she said.
I sighed, relieved. Rice. Or the stool. The stool! She’d find out it wasn’t here. I’d be in trouble.
Luckily, she came back a moment later with the bag of rice. She dropped a handful near the door and pointed at it. “Kneel,” she said.
I dropped to my knees, kowtowing with my face close to the floor to show compliance.
“When your father gets here…” she said, but never finished her sentence. She stepped down the hallway to her bedroom. The sound of the news droning on filtered through the air. She wasn’t going to go back to sleep now.
I remained in the bowed position, trying to ensure she didn’t step out to check on me as she used to do. Minutes passed. Was Kota still stuck in the attic? I thought at some point I could at least get up and help him get out before she discovered I was gone and then get back.
“Psst.”
The sound rattled through me. I sat up in a rush, the movement making me temporarily dizzy. The rice bit into my knees.
Kota and Nathan sat together at the top of the stairs. Stony faces. Frowning. They gazed down at me.
Not both of them. It was humiliating enough with just Kota.
Kota signed to me, “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
He signed again. “Get up.”
My mouth popped open.
The command he normally voiced was in his eyes as he signed. “Get up or I’m coming down to you.”
I crossed my arms in front of my body, trying to hold up my palm to tell him to stop, and then sign for him to go.
His eyes intensified. He nudged at his glasses and reached to pull his Converse shoes off of his feet. Nathan did the same with his Nikes. Then they yanked their socks off.
I couldn’t move. I trembled. I kept signing, begging with my eyes when I couldn’t sign fast enough. Stop! Don’t do it. If I get up, she’ll hear. If you come down, she’ll hear. If she caught us, I knew it would be over. Two boys in the house. She would have a heart attack, and call the police. The boys would be arrested.
The Academy would get involved.
Despite my warnings, the boys padded down the steps, tiptoeing at the edge of the stairs to mask their footfalls and to guard against creaking. Kota was risking everything. Nathan stepped where Kota did, always right behind him, a shadow in everything.
Kota crossed the foyer and knelt next to me. He was wearing jeans but I could tell even through the material he didn’t like it. “Sang,” he whispered. “Get up.”
“You should go,” I whispered. “She’ll come back.”
“You can’t kneel in rice, Sang,” he whispered. “That’s not normal.”
Nathan fell to his knees. His shorts slid up so his bare knees were exposed. His face contorted as his bones hit the rice against the hard floor. He mouthe
d a curse.
I shook my head at Kota, wrapping my arms around myself, shaking. “If she comes back and I’m not here...”
“If you don’t get up, we’re going to kneel here until you do,” Kota whispered.
Why was he doing this? A couple of hours kneeling in rice was nothing. I could deal with it. “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered.
“You’re one of us, Sang,” he commanded in his whisper. “We’re in this together. We’re family.”
He meant it. He was going to stay until I got up. One look at Nathan’s face, and I could tell he was just as determined. He gritted his teeth, and his fists clenched to his thighs. I got the feeling the only thing keeping him still was Kota. Like North, Silas and the others, he would make good on the promise to drag me out of here if they saw fit.
Tears burned in my eyes and I swallowed hard to keep them back. It wasn’t the pain from the rice. Would Marie ever kneel with me? Did my mother ever consider what she did? What did family mean? Marie left when she thought I was sick to go back to Danielle’s house. She never noticed anything wrong. My mother ignored the bandages. She forgot she left me in the tub, tied and mute. Kneeling in rice wasn’t normal.
Here was Kota. Here was Nathan. The loyalty on their faces was stronger than I ever felt from anyone. It made me ache in my core. Nathan shifted on his knees, and I knew he was feeling it. I did, too, but I had thicker skin at the knees now. Would I subject them any longer to this when it was clear I couldn’t convince them to leave?
Family was a choice. I had to learn to trust them. If Kota said move, I moved. If Nathan said he’d pull me out of here if I didn’t listen, I had to trust that. Whatever happened after this, I had to follow through. Was I going to be part of them or not?
I slid a knee up, my foot gliding until I stepped solidly on the floor. Rice not embedded into my knees bounced against the wood. I froze, scared my mother could hear it and would come for me.
Nathan brushed a palm over my knee to flick away the rest of the stuck rice. Kota grasped my elbow to lift me up with him. I held a hand out to get them to stop. They rose up next to me, waiting.
I put weight on my foot to stand. Once I was up, I was still shaking, but I’d made the decision. My mom was my mother. Kota and Nathan were family. I didn’t feel it yet, but I wanted to. If they were willing to face off with my family like this, to risk everything for me, I wouldn’t let them down. I needed this. I needed them. Is this what family did? I wanted to know more than anything. I would take the risk with them.
Kota crept to the stairs. Nathan followed.
I was about to move when the sound of the side door opening froze me. Keys rattled. Something heavy dropped to the floor in the family room. A low hum from a deep voice filled the space.
My father was home.
Kota and Nathan twisted to gaze back at me. With wide eyes, I made motions for them to get up the stairs. Kota half turned to me, ready to run back down the stairs. I shook my head, stood up straighter. He told me to get up. He told me to not kneel in rice. I wouldn’t kneel again, but I would protect them. I’d be the distraction until they were safe. I could face my father. He was barely more than a stranger to me these days. He didn’t matter.
I remained still. The other two slipped to the upstairs hallway. I caught the edge of Kota’s toes still sticking out. In his own quiet way, he was reminding me he was right there and waiting.
My father’s tall figure appeared at the edge of the living room. He crossed it and stopped when he spotted me in the foyer. His dark eyes were tired, and his gruff, unshaven face was drained. An eyebrow shifted up. “Sang,” he said. “Why are you standing there?”
“The rice hurts,” I said softly, my voice cracking.
He frowned. “What’s wrong with your voice? And what happened to your wrists?”
I blinked. He noticed? I couldn’t answer him. My eyes slid to his bedroom where my mother’s television droned.
His eyes followed. “Go to your room,” he said quietly.
I remained on the rice as he crossed in front of me and went to the bedroom. He shut the door behind himself.
I brushed some rice still sticking to my knees away and started to tiptoe toward the wall near my parents’ bedroom. I wanted to hear. I didn’t want to be in the dark. Kota waving to me at the top of the stairs stopped me. He motioned for me to come up. I held back the urge to disobey to satisfy my curiosity.
Kota commanded, I listened.
Lies
I tiptoed up the stairs. Kota caught me by the waist, lugging me into the bedroom. When I was inside, he let go to close and lock the door.
Nathan stood by, running fingers through his red brown hair. I turned to him and he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close. I breathed in the cypress, weakly hugging him back, unsure how to tell him thank you for it.
“Crazy girl,” he whispered. “I told you not to get into trouble before it was my turn.”
“What’s going on down there?” Kota asked behind me.
Nathan let go of me and I wobbled on my feet next to him. “He’s talking to her. I don’t know what about. He’ll probably sleep off this business trip today and will go back to work tomorrow. He’ll get her to eat, though. She’ll probably feel better then.”
Kota’s face darkened. “I’m going to go listen.”
“You just told me not to,” I said. “I was going to hear at the door. And you can’t do it, you’ll get caught.”
“I’m going to Marie’s room,” he said. “Her bedroom is right above theirs. I should be able to hear.”
“I’m coming, too,” I said.
Nathan grabbed my hand, drawing me to stand closer. “Nu uh. You’re staying right here.”
“But shouldn’t I listen?”
Kota shook his head. “I’ll listen. You stay.”
I frowned. I didn’t understand but was shaking and too emotionally drained to fight them on this.
Nathan held onto my hand as Kota left. I heard him creep across the hallway to Marie’s room and then get quiet again as he stepped on her carpet.
Nathan pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here. Let me check your knees.”
I sat on the bed next to him. He hooked an arm under my thighs and slid my legs over until they were on his lap. He bent over, his fingertips tracing over the little indentations in my kneecaps. His breath drifted across my skin.
I shivered.
“Why did she make you kneel this time?”
“She knew I was lying to her. She heard Kota’s voice. I claimed it was the radio.”
“You’re not a very good liar,” he said. He glanced up, his blue eyes meeting mine. “We’ll have to train you.”
“I need to be trained to lie?”
He placed a warm palm on the outside of my knee. “Maybe not lie. Maybe just twisting the truth. I don’t want you to lie if you can help it. You shouldn’t have to, but if it means lying or being punished by kneeling in rice or being tied up in the shower again, I’d rather you lie. Sometimes you just have to.”
“Do you have to lie?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Most of the time, I don’t have to.”
“So how do I tell if you’re lying?”
“I don’t lie to you.”
I made a face. “Never?”
“Friends don’t lie to each other.”
I bit my lower lip. I didn’t want to lie to him, either, and didn’t plan on it. I felt guilty, though, because of how many times I kept things to myself, like my tailbone and how long I’d stalled before calling them the night before. Maybe I was lying to them by keeping it all to myself. Did I have to tell them everything?
He patted my thigh and pushed my legs off of his lap. “Let’s pick up your bookshelf.”
The bookshelf had been tilted against the wall at an odd angle, the books scattered along the floor. We moved the shelf back to the other side of the room against the wall and picked the books up, even thou
gh so many were now damaged. The fan was cracked at the base. Nathan picked up the radio, plugged it in and hit the CD play button, but nothing happened. He flipped it over, checking the damage.
“Can I fix it?” I asked.
“Sang, sweetie, I think it’s dead.” He unplugged it.
I frowned softly. I had so few things that belonged to me. Now half of my books were torn and the radio was busted. There was little reason to keep the bookshelf at all.
A laptop had been left behind the bookshelf, too. I opened it, pushing the button to turn it on. The screen flashed. The keyboard started sparking like a fire cracker. I fell back on the carpet in surprise.
Nathan lunged over me, picking up the laptop, slapping the top down. He flipped it over and pulled out the battery. The sparks stopped.
“You broke everything.” He grinned.
I knew he was teasing me, trying to make me feel better. It was my fault, though. “Victor’s going to kill me,” I said, pushing a finger to my lip.
Nathan frowned. He put the laptop down on the ground. He sat cross-legged on the carpet and pulled me into his lap. How easily he did so. My heart fluttered. He held me in his lap as Kota had done, as Gabriel had done. How did they seem to know what I needed? “Victor would never lay a finger on you,” he said. His broad shoulders made me feel even smaller than I’d felt with Kota. The muscles in his arms were hard against my body. “You have to stop worrying so much.”
My finger pinched my lip to my teeth. “He’s not going to be happy.”
Nathan pulled my hand away from my mouth. “Sang, Victor doesn’t give a shit about a laptop. We have more important things to deal with.”
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Like helping Ashley Waters get more funding.”
He squeezed my hand, pressing my palm against his chest, his pressing on top of mine. “And making sure you’re safe.”
My cheeks heated. I wanted to look in his eyes, but he was too close and I felt too shy. I kept looking at his hand pressed to mine against his chest. I felt his heart beating. I wished I could be as comfortable as they seemed to be with all the touching. Kota promised it would happen eventually. I wondered how long it would take.