by C. L. Stone
“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did, he would have!” I screeched out. Hot tears touched my eyes, but I bit them back. From over North’s shoulders, I caught Gabriel and Nathan and Kota doing a half jog from down the road together. I flinched back to North. “And maybe Derrick, too.”
“You shouldn't have gone in.”
I drew my hand back, pushing the palms against my forehead. “And let them die? You would have gone in!”
“That’s different.” North’s eyes fired bullets at my face.
I threw my hands up, my own guttural growl emerging. “Yes. I’m different from you. Because I’m useless. I’m a stupid girl or something. I don’t know how to help or do anything.”
“Don’t put fucking words in my mouth,” he snapped. He jabbed a finger in the air at me.
“Oh yeah? What? You think I’m making this up? Go ahead,” I said, facing him full on, squaring my shoulders at him. “Call me on the emergency line.”
His face contorted. “What?”
“Call me. Find my app on your phone and push the red button so I know where you are.”
His lips moved, but words didn’t come out.
“You can’t, can you?” I said, hearing Kota and Nathan and Gabriel approaching, but I couldn’t stop. I was too far. North wanted to see me angry? Here I was: a raging, sopping mess in Silas’s T-shirt. Was this what he wanted from me? “You can’t, because I don’t have one. Sang doesn’t have an app because no one calls Sang in an emergency.”
“Maybe because you jump in headfirst without asking for help,” North bellowed.
“Maybe sometimes I have to jump in. I’m the only one there.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not stupid, North!” I flared, the end nearly choking as my voice got too high a pitch for my throat to handle.
“Stop yelling,” Kota barked from up the drive.
“No, fuck that.” North’s eyes narrowed on Kota for a moment. “Fuck off. I’m talking to her.”
“I’m done talking.” I said. I was suddenly exhausted, and the tears behind my eyes threatened to flow down my cheeks. I didn’t want him to see me cry. Not now. I was too proud, and sure I was right.
I turned on him, heading toward the house.
“Don’t you walk away from me,” he said, the threat lingering in his voice.
“I’m going,” I called back, walking around Silas, and avoiding everyone else. I couldn’t stand to look at them. Silas’s face was pale, his eyes wide. It scared me. What did he think of me now? Was it as bad as what North thought of me?
I took only a few more steps toward the garage before I sensed North powering over to me. Hands grabbed my arms, pulling me back toward his body.
“Don’t you walk off like this,” he barked in my ear.
It wasn’t mean, he wasn’t hurting me, but it was aggressive and I was too angry in the moment to be forgiving.
What happened next, I would never remember, not how I got the nerve or how I ever managed it.
My hands shot up over my head, grabbing his ears. I yanked, bending forward.
North sailed over me.
He landed on his back in a heap on the driveway.
I gasped, stunned by what I’d just done.
“Holy shit,” Nathan uttered.
“Kota,” Gabriel whined. “Mommy and daddy are fighting again.”
North coughed, scrambling to get up. “Sang,” he breathed out, guttural and low.
I leapt away from him, marching toward the house.
“Don’t let her go, Silas,” he ordered.
I was halfway through the garage when I felt a large hand encircle my bicep.
“Aggele mou,” he uttered in a softer tone. “Don’t ...”
“Let go, Silas,” I whispered, sliding my eyes back to meet his face, feeling the tears starting to fall from eyes, unable to stop them. “Please.”
Silas’s deep eyes darkened. He frowned, and slipped his fingers from my arm.
“Silas! I said fucking hold her.”
I raced toward the house, dashed up the steps and slammed the door behind myself, and on them all.
DEAR AGONY
Upstairs, I entered my room and slammed the door behind myself there, too. I snapped the lock, knowing any of them could easily slip in, if they wanted, but I needed to make a point. I was locking them out right now. I didn’t want them there.
I took a couple steps into my bedroom before I collapsed onto the carpet. On my knees, kowtowed in front of the wall, I sobbed into the fibers against my face. In my bowed position, I sought forgiveness from people who didn’t know I wanted it, but couldn’t control myself enough to ask yet. It was as if being in this position, making myself this uncomfortable, when it would have been easier to sit up and breathe, was what it would take to remove the wretched things I’d done.
I was probably dirtying the floor with bits of dust I would never be able to remove completely, but I couldn’t find the strength to pull myself out of the desolation. I choked. I cried. My chest felt heavy, as if it had been compressed inside that pile of dust. I’d yelled at North. I said stupid things. I could have died. Silas probably thought I was mad at him, too. Luke had appeared so scared. The others probably thought I was a monster. Did I even mean what I’d said? Maybe, but not the way I’d said it. North drew out the feelings I’d locked away.
Didn’t he understand? I didn’t want him to hate me? I wanted to trust him. I wanted to trust all of them. I was trying so hard, but I didn’t know my place. It made it more difficult.
For years, I knew everything that was expected of me. I knew who I was supposed to be. Sang Sorenson, the girl with the dying mother who had to stay home in her room. Within that boundary, I commanded myself. I took care of myself. With the boys, I had no idea who I was anymore. The role I’d had was stripped from me, and I was shoved into something new.
It wasn’t just with them. It was the empty house I still clung to. It was all I had of my old life. It was discovering I had a stepmother, someone I hadn’t heard from since she went into the hospital. I had disappointed my sister, as depressed and lost as I was, by not calling our dad like I was supposed to.
My father hadn’t called me back. He had abandoned us.
I sobbed, my mouth opening with silent screams as I breathed out my pain. I’d become accustomed to swallowing my voice if I ever cried in frustration with my parents. I’d always cried quietly, so they wouldn’t hear me, wouldn’t come after me, wouldn’t punish me. Now, when I wanted to shout and could do so, my voice box refused that release. It had forgotten how to cry out loud.
I cried silently, painfully, against the compression in my chest, made heavier by a soggy, dirty shirt and the underlying itch of ghostly bits of dust in my throat.
The sorrow was what I needed, yet didn’t understand at the same time. I missed them. I wanted them. I wanted to tell North I was sorry. I was too wild in my feelings, though, and didn’t want any of them to see me like this. I’d fallen apart.
My mind flashed all the horrible things that had happened. My mother wasn’t my real mother. My father left us for a second family. My real mother was dead. My sister, half-sister, didn’t like me. All I had left were my friends, people who barely knew me, and I was messing up those relationships. I didn’t know what I was doing. I depended so much on them to tell me. I was scared to death that one day they would disappear and I would be truly alone.
When they’d first arrived in my life, I thought they were everything I ever wanted. Now they were all I had left and needed. Their direction. Their attention. Their unyielding loyalty. Even when they didn’t have to, even when I resisted, they invaded every part of my life and gave me what I needed. They were always there, just like they promised.
Did I even deserve it? Who was I to them? I’d ignored their commands at times. I resisted trusting them. I didn’t mean to, but letting go of myself, when before I took care of everything I needed. That was diffic
ult to give up.
I had tried, or had thought I was trying, but I was only pretending. Why was I so afraid to let go like they wanted? How could they do that so easily?
But they didn’t trust me either. North didn’t. Did the others?
When my lungs were about to give in and wanted me to pass out from breath-screaming too heavily, I flopped over on my side. I tucked my knees into my chest, curled up on the floor. The cool air from the overhead vent swept over my cheek, chilling my tears to my face and eyes. I sniffled, breathing in deep. My breathing slowed. I stared off into oblivion against the wall.
I don’t know how long I was staring. I think I expected to be interrupted by someone, so I was using up the last bit of time I had left to regain my energy. I’d been this mad before. I knew myself better. I’d said things I didn’t mean. A good cry and sweet despair was how I recovered what control I needed. I’d take a bath, slip into bed and drift into sleep if I could. If I could do that, I’d be better when I woke. It was how I worked. Cry, sleep, and feel better in the morning. I’d face North again. I’d apologize. Just not right now.
I sat up on my knees and stared off at the wall again, as if it had taken everything I had inside me to get that far. My room looked different to me from that position. The bed was made, most likely by Kota that morning. The hand-carved bookshelf, made by Silas and North, held a number of books the others had bought for me, but now never had time for. On top was the stereo, and the CD inside was one Victor had put together of my favorite composers. There were sunglasses Gabriel had left behind, the arm band Silas had given me to wear to his football games. Nathan’s deodorant was on the shelf, too, along with a blue hair band that was Luke’s.
Out of habit, I felt at the cup of my bra, thinking of the phone, wanting to look at the photos I’d taken before.
I groaned, feeling stupid to assume it would still be there. My phone was gone forever in the sawdust pile, pink case and all.
I planted a foot on the carpet, rising slowly. My body wanted to flop back to the floor. I’d had my moment. I resisted. I’d fallen apart. I was done.
I fetched a clean tank top, underwear and shorts from the attic’s small wardrobe. I held them delicately between my fingers so sawdust wouldn’t get on them. I crossed my bedroom, opening the door.
I nearly tripped over Kota, sitting on the floor, with his back against the wall, right outside my bedroom.
I gasped in surprise, stopping short. My clothes fell from my hand to the floor by his leg.
I should have known.
Kota scooped up my clothes from the floor, standing. “Are you okay?” he asked in a gentle voice.
I couldn’t look at his face. I focused on his chest instead, afraid to let him see the cold tears still in my eyes. I nodded, my mouth feeling glued to itself.
“Do you need anything?”
I shook my head, noticing the green in his shirt, so much like his eyes.
He handed the clothes to me.
I swallowed. This hurt too much. I couldn’t be so cold to him. I needed to stop myself before it was too late and they left me.
I peeled my lips apart. “I’m going to go take a bath,” I said, “and be mad for a little bit more.” I took a step back, giving him some space. “Do you want to wait in my room?” It was the best I had in me as a peace offering.
He released a breath. “Yes.”
I caught a glimpse of his back as he slipped into my room, followed by the mussed hair on top of his head. It was so out of place on the always so calm and collected Kota.
I turned from him, breathing in the waft of spice that lingered. I dashed to the bathroom, afraid I’d submit to my desire to go fall apart in his lap. If I did that, I knew I’d cry again and be stupid. I’d done enough to them for one day.
I closed the bathroom door. I started up the water to lukewarm. When I slipped into the bath, I heard the helicopter I’d ignored for a while finally disappearing into the distance.
Or maybe it was a motorcycle.
KOTA’S FEAR
Kota wasn’t in the bedroom when I returned. His shoes were tucked into the corner, his socks on top. I would have suspected he was downstairs, until I saw the attic door sitting half open. The light was on inside.
I knelt in front of the attic door, sliding it open further and peered in. Kota’s legs dangled from the edge of the bean bag chair at the other end.
I crawled forward, closing the attic door behind me. The carpet against my knees felt soothing, fresh and soft.
“Kota?” I called to him when I got close.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “You know, I haven’t been back here since they redid this space.” A half smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I thought when your parents left, you wouldn’t care to use it again. You don’t really have a reason to hide.”
“I like it,” I said quietly, unsure how to approach him. I’d been so angry before, that now I felt out of place. I was embarrassed he had seen me act so out of control with North.
He held out his hand to me, beckoning. I sighed softly with relief, eager to seek out the comfort I’d been denying myself, but Kota had been waiting to give.
I crawled up. He tucked his arms around my waist. He positioned me next to him, pulling my legs over his so I was half in his lap. He kept an arm around my back, dropping a palm on my knee. “I think I like it, too. I might just get Luke to redo my closet like this.”
I hid my threatening smile with a couple of fingers over my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I said, unsure how to begin and not wanting to simply forget everything that had just happened.
A soft brown eyebrow lifted. “For what?”
“For yelling at North. For flipping him over like that.”
His smile softened. “Shouldn’t you be telling him that?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
He sighed, picking his hand up off of my knee and wrapping it around my back. He pulled me in until he was hugging me close. My hands fell onto his chest. My face buried into his shirt. I inhaled the sweet spice. How I’d worried I’d never smell that again.
“Are you still mad?” he whispered.
“I don’t want to be.” In truth, I didn’t, but my heart was cold right now. Kota was a comfort, but I couldn’t get over how pained North had sounded.
Don’t you walk away from me.
I didn’t realize it at the time because I was so angry. Now, when I replayed the line in my head, all I heard was him begging. He had needed me, and I walked off. I simply didn’t understand why he was trying to draw me back. Wasn’t yelling bad? I felt horrible doing it.
“Sang,” Kota said against my hair. He squeezed me once. “I can’t believe I almost lost you twice this week.”
“Twice?”
He sighed. “McCoy was dragging you off. I don’t know where or why. Then today, by the time I got there, you were already inside that hill. Victor found your hand, said you were hanging on to him, but when we pulled you out, you weren’t breathing.” The tip of his nose rubbed against my forehead, similar to how he usually rubbed his nose against mine. “Sometimes it feels like we’re rescuing you more than we’re actually spending time with you like this.”
“Regret you met me yet?”
“Not in the least.”
I smiled against his chest.
He pulled his head back. “Sang?”
I pushed against his chest a little for leverage and sat up to meet his green eyes. “Yes?”
“Did you mean it?”
I blinked, unsure. “What?”
“You know I don’t think you’re stupid, right?”
I sighed. “Maybe you don’t, but there’s times when I wonder if you don’t trust me. A little. Sometimes.”
He pursed his lips. “Why?”
I sat back against the bean bag chair. “Like when I find out you wired me.”
“I thought Victor told you about the cameras?”
“You didn’t
tell me about my phone.”
He frowned. “It’s not on all the time.”
“How often is ‘not all the time’, Kota?”
“We all have it, Sang. It isn’t just you.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
I parted my lips, wanting to tell him how unusual it was. He didn’t trust me to tell him things. I stopped short, closing my lips. Didn’t I just prove to them I couldn’t be trusted? I didn’t tell them about a signal. It seemed so small before. I didn’t imagine what kind of emergency could happen that only I could solve. I had romanticized my own abilities. I wondered why I kept it a secret at all. “I don’t know what I’m doing any more,” I finally said.
Kota flinched, a pained expression contorting his face. “Sweetheart, don’t say that.”
I sniffed, unable to stop myself from pouting. “I don’t know where I belong. Things happen, like the phone being turned off, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to react to it. I get told to not worry about McCoy, but all I can think about at school is if maybe he’s around the next corner.”
Kota sat up sharply. He pressed a palm to my cheek. “I said you don’t have to worry about that.”
“But you won’t tell me why.”
His eyes darkened. “I can’t tell you why.”
I nodded, glancing down. “I know I promised not to ask about Academy things. Not knowing is harder. If I don’t know where he is, I don’t know how to relax.”
“Trust us,” he breathed through his teeth. “Sang, you have to learn. Can’t you believe me?”
“Like you trust me?” I asked. My eyes lifted, slow, until I was gazing back into his green eyes. “With a recording device in my phone? With cameras in my house?”
“That’s not about trust. That’s about protecting you.”
“There’s no one left to protect me from,” I said. “My parents are gone.”
“One day they might come back. And your phone isn’t to listen in on you. It’s to help us find where you are if someone, like McCoy, tries to take you. It’s for anyone who might get to you without us being there.”