12. Matthias
12
MATTHIAS
AGE THIRTEEN
Summer used to mean months under my father’s thumb. Weeks of boredom as I tried to avoid his attention. Days that dragged, making me long for autumn to return and the safety of school. Anything to get me out of the house and away from him.
I don’t know why Father hates me so much. Dalton thinks it’s because I look like Mom. He’s the one who seeks me out whenever Father goes too far, when I’ve upset him by saying the wrong thing or letting my emotions show.
I’m learning it’s better not to say anything, to keep my head down and hope his gaze passes right over me. Unless it happens to land on Dalton or Harley.
Then I’ll provoke him. Anything to keep my little brothers safe.
He never used to be like this. Once, our house bustled with joy. Mom’s baking could be smelled wherever you were. You couldn’t sneak past her without her pulling you in for a tight hug, tickling you until you begged for mercy.
Wylder would be at the dining room table, studying away. Cade and Samson would be engaged in a battle of wits, getting up to mischief all over the house. Dalton, Harley, and I lived mostly in the garden, childish games filling our days.
I had the perfect childhood.
But then Mom got sick.
Too sick to catch us sneaking past.
Too sick to bake.
Too sick to get out of bed.
Until, one day, the sickness took her.
All laughter stopped after that. Wylder and Samson eventually went off to college, and Cade started attending sleepaway camp for the summers.
That left just me, Dalton, and Harley with Father. Father who’d lost his anchor, the person who smoothed his rough edges. The one who took his cruel nature and softened it.
He’d never been a great dad, but without Mom…
He became my worst nightmare.
My older brothers didn’t know what he’d become. Dalton had suggested on more than one occasion that we tell them, but what was the point? It wasn’t like they could do anything. None of them liked being here anyway, not now that Mom was gone.
Instead, I took the brunt of Father’s rage. I stood between him and my younger brothers, allowing myself to be his punching bag. I did whatever it took to protect them.
I’d spent two summers stuck in the house with just Father. Dalton and Harley were signed up for sports programs, but since I wasn’t athletic myself, I was left behind at home. Summer represented months of boredom, fear, and torture.
But then I met Wyatt.
My summers are now filled with laughter again. With him, I’m a kid. I’m not worrying about what’s awaiting me at home. I don’t care if Father scolds me for dirt on my knees or refuses me dinner because there are twigs in my hair.
I don’t care.
Being with Wyatt makes everything worth it.
I’m running through the woods to our meeting place. I always run. Not because I enjoy it, but because it gets me to him quicker.
As the trees pass me by, I wonder what we’ll get up to today. It’s hot, so maybe the lake? Or maybe I can persuade Wy to go into town. To let me treat him to an ice cream.
Not that he’ll let me buy it. That’s an argument I haven’t won yet.
Mind abuzz with ideas for the day ahead, I skid into the clearing. Wyatt is already there, sitting on the floor, back against a tree.
Immediately, I know something’s wrong. He doesn’t look up at my approach. There’s no welcoming smile or witty quip.
His head hangs low, his hands gripped together so tightly that his knuckles are white.
Panic floods me as I rush to drop beside him. “Wy? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
He doesn’t answer straight away. I know he knows I’m here from how he leans to the side.
“Wy?” I ask tentatively. “Has someone hurt you?”
If they have…I don’t know what I’ll do. There’s no way I’ll let them get away with it though. I’ll call one of my older brothers. I don’t see much of them anymore, but they’ll help me, right? They have to. I can’t have Wyatt getting hurt. It makes my stomach upset.
It makes me angry.
He shakes his head, and my shoulders loosen. Not all the way. Not when I see the tear track down Wy’s cheek.
“Mom’s pregnant,” he says finally. My stomach flips at the flatness in his tone. That’s not my Wy. He’s not emotionless. He feels everything .
“Is that not a good thing?” My brothers might drive me crazy, but I can’t imagine not having them. I think I’d be very lonely.
“I’m sure it’d be fine if they had the money,” he says dully, and suddenly I understand. “Or if they were gonna get clean. But that’s never going to happen.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make this better for Wyatt, and I hate that.
I lean into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wy.”
“One day I’m going to travel far away from here,” he says. “Go to one of those fancy islands they have just for billionaires. Have you heard of those?”
Not only have I heard of them, but I suspect I’ve been to a couple. Father might be neglectful in terms of parenting, but he never misses an opportunity to network. Something those islands are known for.
“I think I’d like to go there. Somewhere warm where I can hear the ocean from every window,” Wy says before I can speak. “With you, of course.”
“Of course,” I reply, nudging him. “It’s you and me. Forever.”
“Good,” he breathes. “I think I can handle anything if you’re at my side.”
“Then it’s great that I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you, Wy.”