Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Peach
EXTRA EXTRA – Chandler Leighton
T hree days in a row, I wake up in Wren's bed with swollen eyes and a need to sleep forever. My head feels heavy, my brain foggy. My body doesn't feel anything anymore. I'm completely detached, and I've refused to utter a single word. Wren has been attempting to feed me, but all I've accepted is water and toast.
"Please," he murmurs as I shake my head when I see the platter with a plate of fries and a bowl of ice cream.
I go deeper under the covers, pulling them above my head.
"I put peri-peri powder on the fries," I hear from the other side of the covers. The side that isn’t the safety of the bed. Out there, my parents made themselves untraceable so I would never find them. That's how badly they didn't want me.
The covers disappear. "Please, Trouble. It's unlike you not to eat anything. Especially if it involves both sweet and savory."
"I don't like peri-peri on the fries anymore when I put them in my ice cream."
"Alright, then I'll get you something else."
I peek from under the covers. Putting the tray on the bedside table, he sits next to me. He's dressed in his uniform, and I realize he feels cold. He smells of fall too. He's been outside.
"Have you been out?" I croak.
"Yes, to classes."
I feel my eyes widen, and I look at the clock on my phone. It's 1:03 p.m. I slept all morning.
"You missed Lopez's class," he carries on. "He asked about you. Don't you have an appointment with him in a few days?"
I nod. Sometimes, one piece of bad news will ruin everything you worked so hard for. It's unfair.
It's unfair that all my dreams mean nothing just because of rejection . This is how I am, and it's always been my incurable curse. My perspective on things changes all the time to point out where I'm being rejected. It follows a schedule of moods and the feeling loved label I put on different parts of my life. I remember when we were in high school, and I would get the best grades possible in all science subjects. In my head, the feeling loved label was focused on getting into SFU so I could start my journey to a Nobel Prize. I thought that, then, I would feel loved. But then, Ella would get all the boys' attention, and my feeling loved label would be ripped off my work and slapped right onto the feeling beautiful box.
Now we're years later, my ideas shifted, my personality changed, yet here I am again, feeling the rejection like it's a nasty part of me that gets awoken at the snap of someone's fingers. And I feel it so deeply. I’m hollow, only alive when filled with someone's need for me. I want my biological parents to want me. That's where my feeling loved label is. I want them to tell me this was all a mistake. But the truth is, the only mistake they ever made was…me.
"I can catch up on Lopez's work whenever," I mumble, my eyelids heavy.
"What about his notes for your paper?"
"I'm still feeling tired. And I can easily catch up on that too once I've rested." I turn to face away from him, but his hand is on my shoulder, stopping me.
"If by catching up, you mean snorting Adderall to pull three all-nighters in a row, you can kiss that idea goodbye."
When I don't respond, he caresses my hairline and lies down with me. "Trouble, if this was like you, I would lie down and spend days in bed with you. But you're not being yourself, and I can't let you do this."
"Maybe it's like me. The new me. You don't know."
He stays silent for a moment, and I struggle to read him. Sometimes, he's an open book. Lately, everything feels different.
"Lopez fired some questions at us during the class. You would have loved it. Especially the ones I couldn't answer."
Now he's got my attention.
Shifting to face him properly, I cock an eyebrow. "You couldn't answer Lopez's weekly rapid-fire questions? Are you okay, loser? They're so easy. What did he ask?"
Challenge tightens his lips while raising my heartbeat.
"Alright," he says. "Well, if you're so good, why don't you answer them for me."
"Go ahead. Someone has to teach you the answers."
"Name a common air pollutant regulated by the EPA."
I snort. "Easy. PM2.5. Next?"
"Okay," he says, impressed. "What does an anaerobic digester produce?"
Energy coming back to my body, I sit up a little. "Biogas. Are you planning on making this difficult, or what?"
He thinks harder about it, eyebrows pinching together. "What’s a typical removal method for NOx in flue gas?"
"Selective Catalytic Reduction. Wow, Wren. You really need to get your shit together if you didn't know any of these."
I'm fully sat against the headboard now, the covers down and excitement about my favorite class buzzing through me.
"I love Professor Lopez," I say. "He always allows me to show you how much smarter I am than you." I wink at him, and it makes him laugh beautifully.
"Eager to go back to his class, then?"
"Yeah." I smile. “Don't feel bad, though. After all, environmental engineering is my major, not yours—" I cut myself off. "Wait."
"Hm?" he asks, but his innocent act isn’t fooling me.
"You love environmental engineering. You work hard on it because you want to challenge me in class like an idiot."
He raises his eyebrows. "Do I?"
"Wren," I say, tone stern. "You knew the answers to those questions. You did this to get me back to class. Do you think I'm dumb?"
"Quite the opposite, baby. Trust me."
"I don't want to go to classes," I throw back firmly. "I want to stay here. I want to rest."
I put my back to him again, but this time, I hear him shift. I don't move until I feel him poke at my ribs with something. I turn around, and he's holding a marker.
"If you promise to go to classes today, I promise I will find them. Not find any information I can about them. I will find them, and you will meet them and talk to them."
My chest constricts, and I sit up, wiping the tears I hadn't realized were falling again. "But they're impossible to find."
"I'll find them," he insists. "But now that you remember that classes actually make you excited, I want you to get out of bed, go to class, and work on your paper for the journal."
I snatch the pen, writing on my forearm, I promise , then give it to him.
"Do it," I say in a hurry.
"Peach, baby." He huffs, pausing with the tip of his pen above his skin. "I will, but please, I need you to understand, this doesn't define you. You are… Fuck, you are the most intelligent, beautiful, and unbearably, perfectly stubborn woman I know. For whatever reasons, your parents couldn't keep you, but that reason isn't you. You were just a kid."
"A three-year-old kid. They had time to get to know me. I might not remember anything, but I know they should have had time to get attached."
"Baby, please," he insists. He presses his lips on my forehead. "No one in their right mind would let you go. Ever. The proof is your dads love you and they chose you."
" Write it, Wren ," I hiss. "Do it."
My eyes are stuck on the tip as he writes it down on his arm.
I promise.
And finally, a weight falls off my shoulders.
Wren has flaws I'm struggling to get past, but if one person will do anything in their power to make me feel better, it's him.
"Why do you do this?" I ask, a strange hope warming my stomach.
"Do what?"
" This. All this . You take care of me, and you encourage me to get back to class. You know me, and you trick me into feeling better. It's… How and why?"
"How?"
"How do you know me so well?"
He smiles proudly. Full-teeth-dimples-out kind of smile.
"According to my calculations," he answers with a playful lilt. "It's twenty percent observation over sixteen years. One percent, you opening up from time to time. And seventy-nine percent"—he hesitates, licking his lips—"that's just who I am with you. It comes naturally. Like it's meant to be."
I look down at my lap, twisting the cover around my index finger. "But…how do you know it's meant to be?"
It seems he struggles to put words to it as he pauses. And then it comes with a simplicity I never expected from either of our complicated brains.
"You're my home."
He continues as if my heart didn't just suddenly stutter and accelerate. As if the room isn't spinning around me.
"My house and my family have never felt like a home. I think I started feeling that very early for many different reasons. And then we met. And grew up together. My feelings were always confusing me, but I always wanted to get back to you. I lived in a huge mansion in Stoneview, yet I wanted nothing but to be near you. In a tiny fort in your bedroom. In the back of my car when we'd have lunch at the top of the Stoneview hills. A seat next to you in class. Those felt like home."
I swallow thickly, my skin buzzing with the need to touch him.
"And that's when I understood." He looks at me, smiling shyly now. "Home is a small place. It's the tiniest place. It fits in my heart. It's you. I hope I can be that for you someday too."
Words aren't something I can utilize in this moment. They would feel so little compared to his declaration.
So, I place a hand on his cheek and give in to this closeness. The warmth of his skin fills me with a hundred dancing butterflies.
Wren Hunter. What are you doing to me?
Thankfully, I don't need to talk. He takes my hand, kisses my inner wrist, and I know he understands that everything he said is now safeguarded in a special place in my heart.
"Now, please go shower. I bought your moisturizer and sunscreen. It’s in the bathroom."
I give him half a smile and jump out of bed.
"SPF50?"
"50," he confirms.
"You know too much about me." I look over my shoulder just before I enter the bathroom and his silent staring tells me, You have no idea how much.
And my heart skips a beat. As I turn on the shower, I let my thoughts run wild, and a feeling sinks into my bones. I truly think this man would do anything for me. And that if someone could fill the emptiness inside me, it’s him.
We're about to walk into the science building when his hand tries to grab mine.
"What are you doing?" I ask as I take a step away from him. Something tugs at my heart, like separating physically only reminds me of the invisible magnets trying to bring us back together.
We keep walking together, but someone could get between us now.
"Taking your hand?" he points out, as if I'm the one who's lost her mind.
"We're on campus. You promised, remember? We're not together on campus."
His jaw settles in that tightness he always wears when someone refuses him something.
"You said you would give me time, Wren," I remind him as he follows me to where my next class is. His is nowhere near this part of the building.
"You've had over a week," he answers casually. "You've been in my bed for three days. Hell, you've come with my tongue inside you."
"Shut up." I keep looking around, making sure no one is near enough to hear us. "You left me alone for days while I was trying to figure this out. I need time."
He runs his tongue across his teeth, looks away, then back at me. "Fine."
"Good. And I want to know where you were for a week."
He cocks an eyebrow. "You seem to be throwing a lot of orders around."
I smile brightly. "Of course I am. You forced me into this, remember?"
Putting a hand on my cheek, he licks his lips. "I still don't regret anything."
I push his hand away. "You made me your Hera, left me for a week, and came back with horrible news. I will make you regret a lot if you don't start answering some questions."
"I'll take you to dinner tonight. You haven't eaten properly in days. Feed yourself, and I'll answer any questions you have."
"Any questions?"
"Any questions, Trouble."
I pat his cheek condescendingly. "Good boy."
He chuckles but calls out after me as I turn my back to him. "I'm going to make you regret that."
"Try," I throw back, my body weirdly buzzing with excitement.
I'm invigorated when I walk out of my class. I don't know how I could let myself feel down for so long when I know moving forward has always been the way for me to get over something. And Wren will find my biological parents. He can do anything. I know it.
I stop in front of a paper that’s been taped to the announcement board. It wasn’t there when I went to class. The campus security and local police are working together to try to find a witness to Josh Addinton’s murder. They put a date and time and added short notes, not giving anything else away.
If you were at the library or around that part of campus at the date and time above and heard or saw anything, we urge you to come forward and call the line below.
Shit, they opened a special line for the murder. This and the email we received earlier from the dean, urging us to be careful as the murderer hasn’t been caught, send a shiver down my spine. This isn’t good.
I'm passing the men's bathroom when someone pulls me by the arm. The door closes, and I'm dragged into a stall before I can even fight back. When I do, the slap leaves me without any control.
"Ow! Peach!"
"Elijah, what the fuck?"
He stands in front of me, a hand rubbing his cheek. "You tell me what the fuck. You disappeared for three days. I thought Wren found out about our library talks and hurt you or something."
I shake my head. "He would never hurt me."
There's a long silence, during which Elijah's glare tells me the opposite. That he knows his brother better than I do, and that I'm not safe with him.
The problem is, I feel safe with him. That prevails any warning he could give me.
"I was so worried," he says.
"Wren took care of me. I was feeling…down."
My gaze drops, and I suddenly find the black bows on my shoes incredibly interesting.
"Hey, are you okay?" His hand comes to my upper arm, squeezing in a caring way.
It feels strange to hide something from Elijah. After all, it's no secret that I'm adopted. Everyone knows. And I trust him with everything.
"To be honest," I rasp as I look back up, "Wren has been looking for my biological parents. And uh, he came to a pretty big bump in the road."
He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows scrunched together. "What kind of bump in the road?"
"They don't want to be found," I admit as shame creeps up my neck.
The surprise on his face is undeniable, and he lets go of me to cross his arms over his chest.
Looking away from me, he says, "He'd never hurt you, huh?"
"What?" My heart palpitates, already feeling like my world is about to fall apart yet again.
"Tell me, Peach." He looks at me again. "Did it hurt you that he couldn't find your parents?"
"Of course."
His expression tightens, nostrils flaring. "Then I can tell you Wren has already purposefully caused you pain."
"No." I shake my head in panic, my voice dying in my throat before I can try again. "No, he tried. He found my birth certificate, but he couldn't find them . He said he'll keep trying."
He snorts, but his eyes tell me how pathetic I am. "He's a liar and you shouldn't ever put your trust in him. Anyone in the Circle could find someone untraceable. We're the most powerful secret society on the damn planet. Do you really think anyone can hide from us?"
"I-I don't know… He said he couldn't find them. He promised to keep looking."
"And I bet there'll be other surprising bumps in the road…" He chuckles, and my stomach sinks. "Peach, listen to me. If Wren has used the Circle and couldn't find your parents, it's because he's the one getting in the way."
"You're wrong. Why would he do that? What would he gain out of it?" I say it with so much certainty, I can see the challenge lighting up in his eyes.
"What would I gain out of telling you the truth?"
We pause, stuck. My thoughts are running a thousand miles an hour, and I almost feel dizzy from it.
"Okay. Fine. You know what? I don't know why he would do that either," he says calmly. "So, I can't expect you to blindly believe Wren is a liar who has put a mask on in front of all of you for years." He pinches his lips, breathing harshly through his nose. "But here's what I'm offering you. I'll look for them. Give me two weeks. If I don't have anything more than he does, then he means no harm. If I do…then you'll finally know the truth about him."
I swallow thickly. "He wouldn't do this to me. But fine. Maybe it'll erase some of that paranoia you have toward him if you realize it's truly difficult to find them even with the Circle's help."
"Okay," he says as he takes me into a hug. "I just want you to be safe."
"I know."
"And don't say anything to him. He'll only try to get in my way."
My heart skips a beat, but I nod against Elijah's shoulder. Wren kept the Circle from me for years. He kept the fact that he was a murderer to himself too. I can keep this from him for a couple of weeks.