Chapter 14
“ D oes it really matter?” It was bad enough that I’d told him in the first place, I certainly didn’t want to linger over the details.
He audibly took a deep breath. “Yes. Absolutely. But if you can’t tell me now, I can wait until you’re ready.
” He stroked my back. “I am going to get you a lock, though. That won’t happen to you again, and I promise no one is ever going to hurt you like that again.
” Conversationally, he added, “I hate your family, by the way. I did before, because your aunt and uncle are the worst kind of pretentious, but it just got a lot worse.”
I forced myself to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Barrett. I just … I just need to get to eighteen. After that, I can disappear.”
He squeezed my fingers. “From them but not from me, okay?”
I wished I could just believe he would be around for that long, but I honestly didn’t. I learned a long time ago, nothing good ever stays. Instead of arguing, I joked , saying, “We just met. You might be done with me by the time I turn eighteen.”
“That could go either way, you could be done with me, but I have a feeling we’re more than that.
It feels like we started something lasting, and I don’t say that easily.
But we won’t get ahead of ourselves. Fine.
” He kissed my forehead, once and then twice.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to, but I’m comfortable with you, like I feel like I can breathe when you’re close.
Sorry I conked out. Do you want me to leave? ”
Do I? I shook my head, being honest before I fully consciously decided. “Don’t,” I said aloud.
“Okay.” He rolled over toward me again, yawning. “I don’t think I’ve shared a bed with anyone before. I mean, maybe not ever.”
Interesting. I stared at the ceiling then finally smiled.
“I used to share a bed with my mom.” My voice broke, but I hadn’t thought about that in a very long time.
“I forgot about it, actually. I had my own bed, of course, but I would climb into hers. Sometimes, it was the most time I spent with her all day, because she worked so much after Dad died.”
He nodded and then kicked off his shoes. I realized we were both entirely still dressed, so I kicked off mine, too, then grinned at him.
“She sounds strong. What Jules said was accurate. Most of us would be terrified to do what she did.” He stroked my hair again. “Tell me about your mom, Alatheia. What was she like?”
I stared at him in the almost pitch blackness, but I could really only see the glitter where his eyes were. “I haven’t … I haven’t really gotten to talk about her in five years. I don’t know if I can. Like the words might get stuck.” I winced. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Come on, cuddle with me. It’s really late, or early. Tomorrow … or rather today, we’ll do something fun to make up for yesterday.”
I nodded, but I didn’t know if I could fall asleep again. “You don’t owe me a great day. Yesterday was great. I’m really … just glad to be with all of you. For now. Or however long it lasts.”
If he answered, I never heard him because my eyes closed. The steady rise and fall of his chest eased the fear that usually followed me into sleep. If I dreamed, I didn’t remember it for the rest of the night.
I struggled to wake up, too warm and comfortable to even move. I wanted to stay that way, so my eyebrows crumpled as I wondered why I was being forced to open my eyes.
“Hey.” Barrett kissed my temple and I realized, groggily, that he had been doing it for a little while.
“I’m sorry to wake you. I love holding you and want to stay right here, but I should leave before your family wakes up.
I don’t want to get you in trouble with them, but also, I didn’t want to sneak away.
Not after last night and what it meant. I would hate to wake up after a night like that and find you gone. ”
He was right, so I didn’t argue. I lifted my head to lean on my elbow. “What time is it?”
“Eight, so I’m going to get out of here now. Sleep more if you can, then come down and see me at Granny’s.”
It sounded like a plan, so I nodded as he began to move around the room.
More quietly than I could have imagined possible, he put on his shoes then gently scooted the desk back where it belonged.
With a wink at me, he left my room, before shutting the door gently behind him.
I yawned and thought about our bared souls the night before.
Did he get any more sleep? Did he stay awake the rest of the night?
My nerves jangled, far too awake to fall back to sleep.
Giving up on pretending to try, I swung my legs over the side of the bed then rose up on my tiptoes, forcing myself to stretch.
Since I didn’t hear any distant screams, nor did anyone barge through my door, Barrett must’ve made it out unseen.
If they checked the security cameras, they would see a lot more of me than normal, but from experience, I knew they never did.
With the same staff for the past decade, they weren’t worrying about stealing, not to mention I couldn’t imagine my aunt bothering to monitor anything.
I showered quickly, and once my thoughts started to clear, I leaned against the wall, letting the water run over me as my mind drifted to Barrett. I told him my big secret .
Somehow, the secret I shared with him weighed even heavier than the fact that I wrote Gretchen, The Poor Relation . I confessed what happened to me.
Or almost happened to me, not that I was sure there was much of a difference. That awful night got me shipped out of Chicago so fast, I barely managed to fail all my finals before I left, just for the fun of it.
The excuse didn’t really work for me, not when I knew my actual motivations.
It wasn’t that I wanted to fail, or even that I planned it—more like I couldn’t think at all at the time, too lost in my real life worries to care about school.
The teachers all gave me well-deserved Ds.
No one failed out of private school, not when their rich parents paid for them to succeed.
My lips pursed as I shut off the water, remembering how unpleasant my school experience was—hateful, really.
It worked out in the end, though, because at least I got to be a junior instead of having to repeat my sophomore year again.
Do they wear a uniform at Motifs? If they did, I would have to get one sooner rather than later, and I doubted my aunt would remember or think of it. Mentally, I made a note to remind my aunt, if they weren’t shipping me overseas any time soon.
My heart thudded, my palms going a bit sweaty as I remembered all the conversations with Barrett again.
Is it okay that I told Barrett my story?
I second guessed it, drying off in frustration.
Will it all blow up in my face? I closed my eyes.
In the light of day, it wasn’t so clear whether or not I should’ve held my tongue.
Our cocoon shattered, unable to hold up to the real world.
He might have told me his story, but he mentioned everyone else knew about it already, and that I could literally look it up online.
My secrets were, at least, my own. Why did I tell him?
Well, the damage is done either way. I couldn’t turn back time or undo anything I’d told him.
Dragging a comb through my hair, I scowled at my reflection.
Turning my head side to side, I was struck again by the fact that I didn’t have a single photo of myself.
None. As if I could disappear entirely without ever having existed outside of memory.
My Aunt Amelia had taken back my phone after the incident, and with it, anything I’d saved vanished.
Maybe she still had it, but it didn’t matter—I couldn’t access it.
Not that it held much anyway. I was never a selfie person.
Still, once in a while, I’d snap a quick photo in front of a building or something unusual, like I was trying to leave proof I’d been somewhere. That I existed. Just for a second.
I tried to remember my younger face—what I looked like as a kid—but it was already slipping, blurry around the edges. Back in our trailer in North Dakota, photos of me hung on the walls, most taken by my mom. I had no idea what happened to them, or to anything else we owned.
I was pretty sure no one thought twice about me getting anything from that place. In their minds, once they replaced my things with ‘better’ stuff, I wouldn’t want the old stuff anymore. But it mattered. It may not have been much, but it was ours—a permanent home tucked in the middle of nowhere.
My reflection frowned again, my eyes going sad when I remembered how isolated we really were back then.
Most people think of trailer parks and community, but that wasn’t where we lived.
I had to run down the gravel road from our house for almost an hour before I found help.
My throat still clogged remembering my desperation to find someone, anyone to help my mother.
I shook my head, since I was too dumb or too stubborn to accept she was far past any kind of assistance, dead for hours already.
Then again, I was only eleven so I could cut myself a little slack. I didn’t know .
After they took me away—first, to a temporary home I could hardly remember because of my shock, and then to my uncle—no one seemed to remember I was even mourning. I’d never met him before flying to San Francisco—my first flight, too, not that anyone comforted me.