Chapter 8 My Fault
My Fault
If this is character, I don’t want it anymore. After I spilled the mop bucket again, Mother Mary got so mad her whole face turned red. She grabbed a wooden spoon and whacked my butt. It made a loud crack, like a bone snapping in the cartoons, except no one laughed.
I tried to run but she grabbed my arm, her blows landing on my back. The sharp hits were like fire explosions on my body. It hurt so bad, I screamed and ran outside. She was so angry she followed me out, and pushed me to the ground to keep hitting me.
It wasn’t long before blue and red lights lit up the yard. One of the neighbors called the police, and Mother Mary went away in cuffs. Now I’m back in a group home, and the other three kids glare at me with hatred.
They’d gotten used to the house rules and didn’t want to be moved again. They told me I ruined everything, making sure to give me a little shove every chance they get.
The man in the big white van with flashing lights checked me to see if I was okay. He said I would be bruised but there wasn’t any serious damage. He gave me a sucker I pocketed, unable to bring myself to open it. Bad little girls shouldn’t get treats.
In bed, my silent tears soak the top of Snarp’s head. I know I shouldn’t cry into Snarp. He’s already soggy and smells like old milk, but I can’t stop. He’s all I have.
If I hadn’t knocked over the mop water again, if I hadn’t run outside, I wouldn’t have ruined the lives of the other kids.
Shadow arises by the bed, elongating and stretching before me.
"What happened?" His voice is angry, full of vengeance. He sounds like an actual monster.
The other kids wake up at once, finding a monster stretching out from under my bed. They run screaming from the room.
I could never be scared of Shadow, but I curl into myself tighter, making myself a small ball around Snarp. "Don’t yell at me." My voice muffles into the parrot’s head.
Instantly, Shadow shrinks down to a normal size and crouches until he is eye level with me. After several minutes, I meet the white misty eyes as they study me.
"I was bad, so they took me away. They took all of us away," I explain, fighting back more tears that threaten to clog up my voice again.
"I felt pain. Your pain," he says in a low, tortured voice.
I hesitate at first. "My back. She hurt my back."
Shadow snakes out a tentacle, slowly, carefully as if making sure not to scare me. I’m already laying on my side because it hurts too much to roll over. The back of my shirt lifts and Shadow sees the big purple and yellow bruises I already saw in the mirror.
The rumble that goes through him is low, vicious, and makes his darkness ripple. As if he is suppressing some very big, very angry emotion.
"I’m sorry," I say in a low tone before burying my face in Snarp.
The rumbles stop and velvet-soft tendrils wrap around my chin until I’m forced to look up.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Evie."
I want to believe him. I want it so much my chest aches from the effort.
"I spilled the dirty mop water everywhere."
Everyone else tried to tell me afterward that Mother Mary was bad, but I know they are wrong. I was bad.
As they were putting Mother Mary in a police car, we connected eyes. She looked at me with such disappointment, my tummy dropped straight out of my bottom.
Shadow growls. "She is a broken person full of darkness and she visited that darkness on you," he explains.
"But you’re dark," I say, not really understanding what he’s trying to say.
That gives him pause.
"Sometimes a human can be worse than the monster under the bed. And... " He pauses. "You fill me with things other than darkness."
"Like what?"
Velvet tendrils rub along my tender back, soothing me a little.
"Like caring," he murmurs.
No one’s ever said that to me before. I want him to say it again, but I don’t ask.
"Take me with you," I say.
"What?"
I try to sit up, but the fire on my tender skin and the soreness under it forces me back down. "When you go under the bed, take me with you."
"Evie," he says my name like he is sad. "I can’t."
A hundred scissors cut my heart, each accompanied by a voice.
You don’t have any character.
Who would want you when you’re like this?
Are you even trying?
You mess everything up.
My eyes begin to burn with tears again. "Why?"
Shadow leans in until his forehead presses against mine. Even this close, his face is blurry, always slightly morphing and moving.
"I would if I could, Evie, but it’s not possible. Please believe me."
It’s hard to stop the crying once it's started. My body is wracked by hiccupping sobs I try to keep in.
He goes on. "But I’m here. I’ll always be here with you whenever I can. When you truly need me, I will come." Then I’m wrapped in big arms, inhaling his smoky wood scent.
Shadow curls around me in bed, rubbing my bruised skin, making me feel better. A low grumble that sounds like a kitty cat comes out of him. The vibration makes me feel calm, safe. Safe enough to sleep. Even though I know he’ll be gone in the morning—and soon I’ll have to face a new foster home.
Miguel picks me up at seven p.m. on the dot and, as promised, takes me to a cozy little place that smells like heaven. The walls are lined with kitschy wallpaper covered in chickens and cows—like someone tried to make the world feel safe with farm animals and gravy.
When they bring out a couple of metal buckets full of golden fried chicken, I break into a real smile without meaning to. Miguel catches it and shoots me a cheeky grin, like he’s won something.
He found me a bucket-sized food serving, after all.
Over hot food and cold soda, I listen to him ramble about his college courses. Somewhere between his rant about professors and his dreams of immigration law, I realize I’m not faking it. I actually enjoy being here.
When he drops me off, Miguel takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I like your smile," he says softly, like it’s a secret. "I want another chance to see it."
I look away too quickly, scared he’ll see the flutter of uncertainty behind my ribs.
He makes it impossible to say no.
We go out to dinner several more times, and he always insists on paying even though he’s putting himself through college.
Every time he walks me to the door, my gut tightens like it’s waiting for impact. A kiss. A grab. A shift in his voice, telling me I owe him.
But Miguel never pushes; he only seeks out to hold my hands and squeezes it as if I’ve given him the biggest thrill by letting him. That knot in my gut loosens as my comfort around him grows.
Sleep comes easier. My appetite tiptoes back. Slowly but surely, I start feeling like someone who might not be breaking all the time. Helena occasionally shoots me a smug, knowing smile as if aware she’s responsible for my marked improvement.
Marie and Alice are suddenly interested in my life, always asking me about our dates, what I wore, and how I feel about their cousin. They wear me out with their attention, but I appreciate how genuine they are. Helena usually calls them off before it gets too personal or uncomfortable.
After a night out with cheeseburgers and ice cream, Miguel walks me to my door, insisting he doesn’t want me to slip on the ice. Once I’ve unlocked the door, I turn—and he’s closer than usual. Not too close. But close enough that my breath skips.
"In case no one has told you lately, Evie, you are lovely," he says, looking down into my eyes.
No one has ever told me that, actually.
Miguel steps in, his hand coming up to frame my face. He leans toward me slowly, giving me every opportunity to stop him.
My heart crams up into my throat as I realize what’s about to happen.
Closing my eyes just as his mouth finds mine, it’s a nice, closed-mouth kiss. And somehow, I miss it while it’s happening—too busy trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel.
It only lasts a moment, but when he pulls back, he’s beaming at me again, a sparkle in his eye.
"Thank you for dinner again," I breathe, having forgotten to for the last couple of minutes. "Please, you have to let me pay next time."
He practically skips down the stairs. "Not on your life, Evie."
I can’t help the small smile that springs to my lips as I walk into a blistering hot apartment and flip on the living room light. I’m barely in before I see the mass of shadow in my darkened bedroom.
My pulse skyrockets as I freeze.