by C. L. Stone
I sensed Carol still behind me. While there was an air of salt from dinner, and soap we were using to clean, I could smell the perfume she used, a little too acidic and sharp for my taste. “For what?”
I didn’t really know. I was forcing myself to be polite even though I was tired and hated this game I had to play around her. I realized it probably didn’t make any sense, but she was waiting for me to answer. I turned to her, looking at the tiled floor, the same tiles I stared at for hours on a stool once as punishment for lying. It seemed a lifetime ago now. I didn’t know why I was thinking about it now. Probably because I was again uncomfortable and looking at the same floor. “For...letting me talk to Jessica?”
Carol gave me a dark stare, rag in hand, her blouse shifting slightly as she was breathing. She glanced toward the living room, where my father was, and then up toward the ceiling, where her son was being very noisy walking around. “Finish up the dishes. We should talk.”
My insides tightened as hard as if I’d swallowed a baseball and it settled in my stomach. I nodded quietly, returning to the dishes and overwhelmed with thoughts of what she could possibly want to talk about that she couldn’t just say here.
Whatever it was, I knew I had to go through it. I needed to find out everything she knew.
Why was part of me hoping she tried something? Something so severe that I could just walk away forever?
Negative Numbers
DR. GREEN
Sean Green was knee-deep in camping supplies that had managed to make it back. Kota’s bedroom floor was covered in sleeping bags. Bins were partially filled with dirty clothing, separated appropriately for washing the loads a few at a time.
He chewed a thumbnail, sitting on the floor, his back against Kota’s bed. He watched Sang on his phone, using the cameras as she ate dinner, and then dealt with Carol while Sang washed dishes.
Sang shook like a leaf. Whatever she was doing, she stared at the floor, shaking, looking tired and defeated.
He couldn’t hear what was said, only watched how she moved. He told himself to keep an eye on her, to look for signs that she was ill. Would she faint again? Why couldn’t Carol see she needed rest more than the dishes needed to be done?
They were doing this completely wrong. Despite what Owen had said to him, there was a sinking feeling in his heart that they were going to lose her in this.
If Carol was anything like his own mother, she’d change Sang into believing she knew what was best. Never listen to her. Never honestly care about what was in Sang’s heart. She’d get stuck always coming back to Carol to prove to her that she was normal, and to follow whatever she said.
Owen wasn’t listening to Sang, either. She clearly didn’t want to be there. At all. She was being brave going through this at such a time, and yet you could tell she hated it.
Sean rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling, trying to control himself.
Too stressed.
Too exhausted.
Don’t make rash decisions when tired. That was always a rule. But it was driving him insane waiting like this.
Getting himself invited over to dinner the next night had already gotten a lecture from Owen.
Not part of the plan. Owen said it was too soon to start with dates. It wouldn’t go well.
Sean didn’t agree. If it got Sang out of the house later, even for an evening, it’d be worth it.
The door to Kota’s bedroom opened and then closed. A loud thud like someone sitting down hard on the carpeted steps that led to the room over the garage.
Kota spoke softly.
Owen couldn’t hear too well, but when he checked the phone again, Sang had the house phone in her hands and was talking into it.
In front of Carol.
Sean smirked, rather proud of Kota. That wasn’t approved. He would have heard from Owen about making phone calls. The only one approved was Uncle, asking to see if she’d come in tomorrow.
Sean eased himself quietly around piles of clothing and bags, crawling to the banister to look over.
Kota sat on the stairs, cell phone against his ear, staring at the closed door.
“I’m with you, Sang. I’m right here.” His voice strained. He was bowed over his knees as he sat, hand at his chest, like he was calming a racing heart.
Sean’s heart twisted. Kota knew about the plan, but word was he didn’t approve of it. Had he changed his mind?
Part of him envied how Kota had risked a good lecture from Owen by making a call without approval, just to talk to her.
He should have thought of it. Maybe he could...
“Miss you already,” Kota said into the phone and then pulled it away from his face, quickly hanging up. He stared at the cell phone in his hand, the screen still lit, with Sang’s photo still up next to the details of the ended call.
Kota clutched the phone tighter. When the screen darkened, he released it, letting it fall down the steps to the first-floor landing, where it clunked next to the door.
Kota bent forward, hands against his head.
“One,” he whispered. “Two...”
Sean gripped the banister posts, feeling a deep wave of sadness wash over him, contorting his face and making his eyes water.
This was tearing them all apart.
Sean moved to the top of the stairs and then quietly stepped down, stopping near Kota.
Kota turned his back on him. He clearly heard Sean, knew he was up here. Kota leaned against the wall, pressing himself against it, as if to give Sean room to walk around. He kept his face covered. His glasses fogged.
Sean sat down next to him. He looked at Kota’s phone on the floor, facedown on the carpet, waiting.
He didn’t want to talk if Kota didn’t want to. But he wasn’t just going to leave him like this either. However long it took, he’d stay until Kota asked him to go, or until he seemed okay.
Kota breathed slowly through his nose and out his mouth. He took his glasses off, set them in his lap and covered his face. “I promised her,” he said through his hands. “I promised her I’d get her out of there. She’s right back where she started.”
Sean wrapped an arm around his shoulder, trying to offer what little support he could. “We’ll get her out.”
Kota bent forward, bringing his knees to his chest, hanging his head down and glaring at the stairs. “We had her out. We should have kept her. We should have made a deal with him. ‘Don’t talk about her and we’ll fix it. We’ll hide her past. We’ll make her disappear so he’s never convicted.’”
Sean breathed out slowly between his lips. He sat back, putting his elbows on the stairs behind him. “Tried. He wouldn’t talk about her, remember?”
“I should have talked to him,” Kota said. He sat up again, leaning on his knees, staring blankly at the door, the front of his hair askew and his cheeks red. “I should have told him the last time we saw him. Right after we pulled her out of the closet. I should have—”
Sean placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Stop this,” he said. “Stop. You’ll drive yourself insane. We’ve got what we have now. She’s not hurt...” Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. He knew better.
He was sounding like Owen.
Kota grunted. “She’s hurt. You can hear it. She doesn’t want this.”
“None of us do.”
“Then why are we doing it?” Kota asked, voice rising. He turned to Sean, eyes glassy and face red. “The longer we pretend to go along with this, the harder it’ll be to get her out.”
Sean pressed his lips together hard. If he wasn’t the only one feeling this way, then Kota was right. This was the wrong choice.
“Kota,” Sean said quietly. “If we want her out sooner, we’ve got to work together on it.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You can’t fall apart on the others. They’ll swoop in and take her out.”
Kota rolled his eyes. “I’d do it.”
“I know,” Sean said. He combed his hai
r with his fingers, thinking. “I don’t think we should listen to Owen. I think we need to work every angle until she’s out completely.”
“We can’t go against Mr. Blackbourne.”
“Despite what you think of him, he isn’t always right. Playing by the rules doesn’t apply when all the rules have already been broken.”
Kota sucked in another breath through his nose. “He hasn’t been following the rules since he met her. I should have seen it before. He’d never break the rules for anyone, not for any of us.”
Sean nodded his head. “He loves her.”
Kota closed his eyes, pushing his palms against them. “Not as much as I do.”
Sean’s heart sunk hearing this. The way he made it sound was testing his own feelings for Sang. “It’s not a competition.”
“It is when I wasn’t in the game for so long,” he said. “No one told me.”
“You weren’t ready.”
Kota stood on the stairs and bent over, voice harsh. “We tell each other everything, remember? No secrets. I brought her into the shower, kicking and screaming. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t hate my guts at this point.”
Sean got up, holding on to the rail for support. “You think she’d hate you?”
“I broke my promise to her,” Kota grumbled. “You’re wrong. This is a competition. We’d all have to win her over for it to work, right? Well, I’m in negative numbers now. Thanks for the heads-up.” He rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.
Sean sat on the stairs again, lowering his head.
He wanted to tell himself what Kota said was wrong, but was it?
Sean had hardly gotten any time with her. He’d heard so much about her, watched her on a screen.
How much did she really know about him? Not as much as he knew of her.
Did she care about him like she did Owen?
He remembered the way Owen had scolded her for playing a video game, and that dour sadness that had followed her when she went to bed.
Heart broken.
Because she loved him and wanted to make him happy.
And the next morning, he did something and she was all doe-eyed after that point.
Sean didn’t want to break her heart like Owen had, but he’d do anything to get her to look at him that way.
Kota was right. It was a competition, but not between them.
They’d all have to find a way to win her heart.
Sean’s phone buzzed, and he groaned. An alarm sounding a reminder. His mother was due in at the airport. He couldn’t stay and talk to Kota.
But he couldn’t just leave him like this.
He left the house and walked to his own car, parked across the street at Nathan’s house. Out of habit, he sent a message to Owen.
Sean: Kota’s having a hard time with guilt, feels like he needs to win points with Sang. Calm him down? Maybe we can get them together tomorrow.
No immediate answer. Owen might be busy, but he usually responded quickly, at least with a ‘got your message’ response.
But then, everything had been turned upside down in the last couple of days.
Help Me Help You
SANG
After I started the dishwasher, Carol wiped down the counter and the sink until it shined and then motioned for me to follow her.
To my surprise, she guided me to the laundry room.
Marie’s sheets were finishing up in the washer. She took them out while they were still in the spin cycle, tossing them into the dryer. She filled the washing machine with what looked like a mix of my father’s work clothes. She waited until it was turning before she spoke to me.
“I wanted to talk in complete privacy,” she said, leaning against the folding table.
She might have gotten her wish, more than I liked. The laundry room was positioned next to the garage, near the rear stairs. I had the phone with me, but I wondered now if the guys could hear over the washer and dryer running.
Did they have a camera back here? I didn’t feel physically in danger, but it would have helped to have witnesses if she said anything crazy.
“Your father seems a little stressed coming back here,” Carol said.
I tried not to react to this. He had every reason to be stressed. He’d done it to himself, but he was dragging me, and Marie, into his mistakes.
She continued. “I promised him I’d make this as easy a transition as possible. I appreciate your help and your cooperation. I wish your sister could do the same. It would make things much easier.”
How much should I tell her? It was impossible to know, so I tried to be as vague as possible. “It’s been hard.”
“I know,” she said. She folded her arms across her stomach. This caused her blouse to bunch around her hips and gave her some shape. “Truthfully, I was expecting a couple of hellions, what naturally happens with teenage girls living alone for some time.”
I pressed my lips together grimly. I didn’t want to answer. Was that the impression our dad had been giving her?
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had been, but I suddenly understand you very well. I also understand why you were skipping school.”
“I wasn’t, really,” I said quickly. “I was in school. There was a mix-up.”
She held out her hand in a pause motion. “Your grades have been spectacular, according to your counselor, so I was surprised to hear your attendance was suffering. Girls who do that well don’t usually skip class. And from what your father said, you had never done it before. But now, seeing your willingness to conform, I’m starting to believe you that it might have been a mistake.”
“It was,” I said carefully, unsure how to respond when it sounded like she was siding with me.
She continued, “I don’t see a hellion in you. Taking all those AP courses, the violin, and then getting a job shows me you are serious about your future. I did the same thing in high school. You look exhausted.”
I remained quiet, afraid to shatter this vision she had of me and not wanting to share the truth.
I hadn’t been a bad person, but many things had happened that weren’t normal. I was afraid to spout off a lie, when I was horrible at lying.
When I didn’t say anything, she kept talking. “So I’m willing to offer my help. I’ll go to bat for you about the attendance and will straighten it out. And I’ll help you not be so exhausted if you’ll help me here.”
I wasn’t sure what she planned to do, and I didn’t need her to go to bat for me for any reason. What could I say to this, though? Saying no might have made me sound ungrateful for her offer to help.
Was agreeing to this going to do more harm than good?
“I don’t want to put you through any trouble,” I said quietly. “I already spoke to the counselor, and she fixed my attendance issue.” Or rather, Mr. Blackbourne and the mayor had spoken to her...
Her chubby cheeks expanded as she smiled. “You’ve taken initiative. But I should make sure to fix it before we move. We’ll worry about it once school is back in session,” she said. “I’ll want to make double sure, and to let her know I’ve taken you under my wing. We still have a few days before then. In the meantime, I need you to quit your job.”
My mouth fell open. It wasn’t a regular job, and I didn’t have to go in, but it eliminated a reason to be out of the house. “He...asked about Saturday.”
“You can go in Saturday and let him know it’ll be your last two weeks. A girl your age shouldn’t be working in a diner, anyway. If you want a job, you can do what I did as a kid. You can babysit when you have time.”
I pressed my lips together and hoped the boys could hear. I’d have two weeks to figure out another plan. But we’d be in school by then. So I’d be mostly out of the house anyway, right? “Okay.”
“You shouldn’t need the extra money. I’ll make sure you have what you need. You should be focusing on your studies and extracurricular activities. Are you participating in any clubs?”
&n
bsp; I started to shake my head and then thought it better to do as Kota had suggested. Test the boundaries. See how much I could get her to accept activities where I’d be away from the house. I ran through all the after-school groups I was aware of. “There’s a study group. There’s an ensemble for music. And...art club.” I wanted to rattle off more, but I didn’t want to go overboard.
“You’ve got a busy calendar.” She unfolded her arms and started going through the things in the cabinets around the washer, rearranging some supplies and taking other things out onto the folding table. Could she not stop cleaning and organizing? “Tonight after you clean your room, I want you to work on a list of all of your activities. I’ll adjust it as needed. Don’t forget, Saturday we have a guest. Be back here by six.”
I was eager to get away from her and agreed to it, ready to go. New plan. New hope. Maybe the job wasn’t going to be for me, but I’d pretend to babysit for someone. Could the guys figure out a way to do this? Then there was school, and all those activities. I backed up a few steps, ready to make whatever calendar she wished.
“One more thing,” she said.
I waited, quiet and listening.
She got close enough that the acidic scent of her perfume made me want to cough. Her tone dropped, almost whispering. “Your sister should probably be more included with your activities. Her grades aren’t the best, and she’s depressed. Jimmy also may need help fitting in at school. Help me with this where possible.”
Marie? Jimmy? My lips twitched, hesitating. “I’m not sure how I can help.”
“When I think of something, I’ll say so,” she said. “But you’re clearly the social butterfly here.”
I tried not to choke. Me?
She ignored the noise I made. “Just promise to help where you can. I want your father to see we can work together. Things should calm down once he sees we all get along and we’re on the same page. It’ll get the stress off his shoulders.”
I nodded without thinking, agreeing, and yet couldn’t help feeling stunned at how foreign this conversation was to me.