by C. L. Stone
He sighed. He shifted, wrapping his arms around my waist. He sat cross legged on the bed and I let him pull me into his lap. He pressed his cheek to the top of my head, keeping his arms around me. “Is that it?”
“I think so. I mean the ankle you know about but it isn’t so bad right now,” I said. My fingertips pressed to his chest and I rested my head against his shoulder. I couldn’t believe how easily I’d let him pick me up into his lap. When he’d done it at Nathan’s house and in front of everyone, I was too in need of wanting to feel him, or anyone, that I didn’t give it a second thought. Here and now, when he probably didn’t need to and did it anyway, I didn’t know what to think. He called me his friend. Do friends do this?
“Why didn’t you tell me about your tailbone yesterday?”
“We were kind of busy,” I whispered.
His cheek rubbed against my hair. “Sang, you need to speak up for yourself more.”
“I’m not used to talking.”
His hand lifted, brushing at the hair against my face. He curled a lock behind my ear. “I like it when you talk to me,” he whispered.
“I like when you talk to me, too.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “Then we have to talk together a lot more.”
The way he said it made my heart ripple. I did enjoy talking with him, and lately I rarely got to spend time alone with him like this. Did he mean to say he wanted more like this or something else? “What happens today?” I asked, not sure how to approach what I’d been really thinking about.
“Well,” he said, dropping his hand against my leg, his wrist hanging loosely over my knee. His other hand rubbed at my back. “You and I are going to have a nice, quiet Sunday. We’ll keep an eye on your mother. Nathan should be back soon and he wanted to hang out.”
“I didn’t know he drove,” I said.
Kota grinned. “Sweetie, we all drive.”
“He has a car?”
“He took mine.”
“You let him borrow yours?”
“He can use it when he needs it,” Kota said. “I think we all have copies of each other’s keys.”
“To your cars?”
“To everything.”
I twisted my lips. Something in his eyes told me a secret I wasn’t sure he wanted to tell me. “Do you have a copy of the key to my house?”
He tilted forward, pulling out his set of keys from his pocket. There was a house key with a pink cover near the top in the collection.
“Kota,” I said. I thought I should be shocked or angry about it, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t hurt that he’d done it, just that he didn’t tell me. If he had asked me for one, I would have given it to him. North must have made copies when he offered to do so when Marie wanted one. Was Kota not going to tell me they had those?
“It was convenient of you to bring us one,” he said, stuffing the keys back into his pocket.
“So everyone has one?”
He seemed hesitant to respond but he nodded. “If they didn’t before, they do now.”
I made a face. “Do I get keys?” It only seemed fair.
He laughed softly. “I suppose you should get mine. Maybe Nathan’s. I don’t know how you’d get to anyone else’s house to use a key.”
Wasn’t that a big deal to have copies of someone’s key? Did friends keep copies of house keys and car keys? “Maybe I’ll learn how to drive.”
“You still need a car.”
“Maybe I’ll borrow your car,” I said, giggling.
He grinned and his hand brushed over my side, tickling. “If you ask nicely.”
I gasped, laughing and playfully patted at his hand. “Could I please borrow your car, Kota?”
“Nope.”
“Aw.”
“I have to teach you how to drive, first.”
I perked up. “You’ll teach me?”
“Who else was going to?”
I didn’t have the answer to that. Outside of the guys, who else would ever teach me how to drive? Marie was old enough now but we knew better than to ask our parents. It wasn’t an option to us.
“Anyway,” he said. “You’ve done your homework, right?”
I nodded.
“It might be a good idea to start working ahead when you can.” He reached for his book bag and dragged it closer. “If it gets busier in the next couple of weeks, we won’t have to study so hard to keep up.”
“Are we going to be busy?”
He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing over the zipper of his book bag. “Sang...”
The silence hung in the air, thick with cobweb secrets. “Does the Academy keep you busy?”
His fingers curled into a fist. “There’s a lot that needs to be done.”
“Do you have the time to sit here with me?” I asked.
His eyes darkened and his expression turned serious. “Of course,” he insisted.
“But I make things complicated.”
He shook his head, but a little too quickly. “It’s nothing.”
I chuffed. “Friends are honest with each other, Kota. If there’s important work to do, the last thing that needs to happen is me getting in the way.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said.
“I’m not afraid of being alone,” I said. I didn’t want to be, though. I didn’t want him to leave. I just needed to be sure I wasn’t being totally selfish. If I got them to stay when they needed to be somewhere else, would they come to resent me? “I’ve been fine.”
He frowned. “You weren’t fine yesterday.”
“I’m fine now. I didn’t realize she would do that.”
“What happens the next time you think it’s not going to be that bad and it ends up killing you?”
“What if that never happens?”
“Then we’re lucky,” he said. “But we’re not taking the risk.”
I blew out a breath. “Why?”
His head reeled back, an eyebrow going up. “What do you mean?”
“Why me?”
“God, Sang,” he pulled me back into his arms. I wanted to push him away because I was feeling confused. When his hands pressed to my back and side and he hugged me against him, the warmth in his body melted my rigid composure. He buried his face into my hair against the top of my head. “What happened to you? You’re intelligent, sweet, considerate. You’re too nice to speak up for yourself, even when you’re in trouble. If one of us isn’t right on top of you, you end up stuck inside a tree, or you’re tied up in the shower, or hanging off the arm of some goon at school. And you’re asking me if I’m inconvenienced?” He nuzzled his cheek against my head. “You’re a beautiful wreck.”
I swallowed hard, my head pressed up against his chest. Was that horrible? Was that supposed to make me feel better? “There are a lot of girls in trouble out there, Kota. There’s many who have it much worse than I do.”
His breath fell against my hair. His fingers rubbed at my back and side, massaging. I thought he wasn’t going to answer. It was true. There were girls kidnapped and tortured every day. My mother said so.
“When I first started at the Academy,” Kota whispered to me, “I thought the same thing. You might have noticed the Academy helps when it can. I wondered how they picked who they helped and why. There’s so much that needs to be done. Why didn’t we try helping everyone we came across?” His cheek brushed against my head again. “But we can’t help everyone, Sang. We can’t do it all. We have to trust that there’s other people doing their best for those they love and hope it works out. We start with friends and family. That’s our priority. If that’s in order, we move on to helping others where we can. Family first, Sang. Always.”
“But I’m not family,” I whispered.
“You’re one of us,” he said, the command in his voice returning. Kota’s fingertip traced the tip of my chin, drawing my head to tilt up to look into his eyes. His forehead hovered over mine, warming. “I know you don’t feel it yet. You’ve got a family that d
oesn’t act like one. It takes time to get used to someone caring about you when you aren’t used to it. You might not know this, but Nathan and the others know exactly what you’re going through.”
My lips parted. “What do you mean?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “They should tell you about it, but none of their families are very close.”
“Your mother is,” I said. “And your sister.”
“We are,” he said. “The others’ families aren’t. It wasn’t very hard for them to recognize how lost you were. It’s part of the reason why they wanted you.”
I thought about Nathan’s dad, who I’ve yet to see. Nathan said he flew helicopters and was gone a lot. North and Luke lived with an uncle, and didn’t even know each other existed for a long time. I wondered about Gabriel and Silas and Victor. They were all caring and affectionate around me, something I never really experienced with my own family. How did they figure it out?
Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe they were having just as hard a time figuring this out as I was. “I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said. “I don’t understand how. Or why.”
“I know.” He pulled his head back, bringing a palm to my cheek but still looking at my eyes. I forced mine to remain looking at his but it was difficult. I felt he could look inside, seeing everything. The best I could do was glance back and forth between his eyes and around his face. “We had a feeling and we made a decision. When you accepted us, we accepted you. It’s how we work. You’re one of us, Sang. So we’re here for you. Family first.”
Family. They were my friends but now I was family? I couldn’t understand. We weren’t related and they still hardly knew me. I was one of them. I sighed. I wanted to believe it. A few weeks ago I was alone. Here I was in Kota’s lap. My heart still raced. I wanted desperately to stay. I couldn’t find the words to say it. Tears brimmed in my eyes and I tucked my head down, pushing my forehead against his shoulder because I didn’t want him to see how unsure I was.
“I know you don’t feel it, yet,” he whispered, his hand sought out mine, and he slipped a thumb across my palm, holding on to my hand. “You will. It’ll happen. If you want it to. You’ll always have the choice. Family is a choice.”
“It is?”
His thumb pressed into my palm firmly. “It’s your choice. Parents and siblings are your relations. Family takes care of one another and helps each other. When each side is working together, when everyone wants it, that makes the difference.”
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. 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 at my back. It felt good. Awkward. Warm. Confusing. Would I ever be able to relax and simply enjoy 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. I caught North’s name before Kota pushed a button and answered 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 that 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 Kota 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 that was out of place. I kicked his book bag under my bed. I crossed the room, unlocking the door and peeking out.
My mother leaned against the frame. 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. The shelf blocked 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 sign back with trembling fingers that he should stay there.
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. 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.”