Chapter 24
Aston
It probably comes as no surprise, to anyone, in the history of ever…that Vale’s avoiding me again. Not even a missing pair of sweatpants was enough to draw out Mr. Don’t Touch My Fucking Shit Again. Which says a lot.
What might come as a shock this time, though, is that I’ve been avoiding him right back.
Then how do you know he’s really avoiding you, Aston?
Great question. Thanks so much for asking.
Well, for one, I might’ve not been actively seeking him out, now that I’ve returned to school…but I do have eyes. As does he. And seeing as mine like to sometimes wander without my permission, I know that it’s been days since they’ve touched.
Nine days to be exact.
Not since he was crouched over me in the locker room with his arm pulled back, knife raised and primed to slash my face, eyes so black, so cold, so soulless…I found myself cowering on instinct.
I mean, have you seen that man’s guns? Forget the knife. Dude could kill me with his bare hands and not even break a sweat.
And for another…
Well, I maybe, sort of, kind of…texted him.
IknowIknowIknow! What was I possibly thinking?
But hear me out—
According to Eden, who heard it from some guy named Peter, who heard it from some girl named Marsha, who heard it from her cousin’s cousin’s boyfriend’s sister’s babysitter, who heard it from—
Okay, fine!
Eden heard it directly. I just thought it’d be more fun and less lame if you thought my mysterious absence was the talk of the school. Alas, it was not.
But what my absence did do, was spark a rather interesting interaction between my new brother slash bestie…and some rando who took a sudden interest in my whereabouts.
I mean, really, Vale? Do you take me for a fool?
Eden thought I was jumping to conclusions. “You don’t know that!”
“Why else would someone who I’ve never talked to, someone whose name I couldn’t even begin to try and put a face to, randomly come up to you demanding where I am?”
“I don’t know!”
“EXACTLY! Because he hired someone to do his dirty work!”
“That’s CRAZY!”
“I KNOW! …WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?”
“I DON’T KNOW, YOU STARTED IT!”
Sure, after what happened last Monday, how Vale and I left things, how he left me… it is admittedly pretty far-fetched to think he changed his mind. Or even felt bad for…whatever that was. Something his asking about me would imply…
This is Vale we’re talking about after all. Even as kids, he wasn’t the worry-wart type, unless it somehow benefited him. My memories might be spotty at best, and downright missing at worst…but I do recall that.
If u were so worried about me, u couldve just hunted me down urself, little mouse.
He didn’t text me back—hence how I know for sure he’s avoiding me.
Shocker, I know. And according to Eden, seeing as he was looking over my shoulder when I finally caved and made use of that number I swept from Seth’s phone, Vale’s got something called his “read receipts” off, so whether or not he even opened it is a mystery.
I can’t decide if I would’ve preferred knowing he read it and chose to ignore it, than just assuming that’s what he did.
Now, it’s Wednesday, my third day back.
Peace out pits of despair. Hello, purgatory.
Try as I might to shake off the funk last week’s incident put me in, I’m still feeling the lingering effects. Sure, I finally got out of bed…finally left the house. Put on real clothes and brushed my hair and stopped listening to Air Supply’s “All Out of Love” on repeat—
Something we all have Eden to thank for, now that we’ve finally settled our beef like men. And by that, I mean Eden let me braid his hair while I sobbed and unloaded everything on him.
Okay, so not everything.
Just the key parts.
Starting with how Vale and I met…
“‘It was a queer, sultry summer—’”
“Weren’t you, like, six?”
“Seven. Keep up. Anyway—”
“And isn’t that the opening line of The Bell Jar?”
“I know. Fitting, right?”
His face bunches. “Since when do you read anything but Cosmo?”
I give him a blank stare. “Do you want to know how Vale and I met, or not?”
He rolls his eyes. “I never ask—”
“Anyway…” I drag out pointedly. “So, it was a queer, sultry summer. No, wait, it was spring. Definitely spring.” I tilt my head. “Can spring be queer and sultry too, or is that only reserved for summer?”
“Aston,” he growls. Yes, growls. It’s fucking adorable. And I tell him as much as I squeeze the ever-loving cuteness out of him.
When I finally release him, I open my mouth, ready to dump all the lore on him when something stops me.
My mind just goes…blank.
Words…what are words?
I know how Vale and I met… I do.
There’s a kitchen.
There’s a boy.
There’s the scent of old cigarettes.
And I’m—
Angry.
I’m angry. Why am I so angry?
No…that’s not right.
Why am I so…so…sad…
“Aston, come say hi to your new brother Vale.”
I don’t want a new brother. I want—
“Aston?”
Something jostles my shoulder, and I blink slowly to find Eden watching me warily, his head tilted to the side.
Wait, no, my head’s the one tilted to the side.
Snapping my mouth shut, I straighten and allow myself a few more rapid blinks.
“You don’t have to—”
“On second thought,” I say, my voice faint, my lips hardly moving, “can we just fast-forward to when I moved here?”
Eden searches my gaze with a frown, but rather than question it, he just nods and waits for me to collect my thoughts.
I blow out a breath and begin.
“‘It was a queer, sultry September—”
“Oh my god,” he groans, flopping back on the bed.
My bed…because hanging out in his room would require leaving mine, which is not something I plan on doing anytime soon.
“Cough. Cough. I’m sick,” I’d told Tillie when she found me buried under my blankets Tuesday morning with no intention of getting up and ready for school. It didn’t take much convincing, seeing as I’d skipped dinner the night before.
I vaguely recall her disappearing and returning with two tiny white pills and a glass of water. I didn’t even ask what they were—I never do. Were they cold medicine? Sedatives? Poison? Who fucking knows? What would be the point in worrying about it?
So, I just swallowed them dry, threw myself back under the covers, and let the gentle fingers combing through my hair lull me to sleep.
Okay, so I probably just hallucinated that last part. Let’s be so fucking for real.
Who did end up petting my hair eventually, however…or, rather, who I woke to perched on the edge of my bed two days later, tugging on my knotted strands relentlessly until, finally, I burst out of my blanket cage with a roared, “WHAT?”...
Was Eden.
Arms stuffed with snacks, a hair brush, and a collection of DVDs—
Yes, DVDs. Because the digital age has ruined everything. So for the sake of the vibes, for all that I fucking missed out on as a child, either suspend your disbelief or take it up with Jesus.
—one of which I recognized instantly by its pink, lime green, and teal stripes… He told me to get my ass up, get showered, because we had plans.
Those plans being a movie marathon in bed, watching all my faves. And, eventually, even some of his, when our day together extended not only into a sleepover, but a whole extended weekend spent playing hooky and hanging out together in my room, before I finally broke down in his arms.
“La la la. I can’t hear you,” Eden says now over my detailed, and admittedly graphic retelling of Monday’s locker room tryst.
I sniff. “Oh, don’t be such a prude, Edie-poo.”
He scoffs, lowering his hands from where he’d been plugging his ears. “Please don’t call me that.”
“The poo part? Or the Edie?”
“Both.” He scrunches his nose. “Edie makes it sound like you’re calling me erectile dysfunction.”
Surrounded by a sea of pillows and rumpled blankets, Eden and I sit cross-legged facing one another as I continue unloading everything on him. Everything that transpired between Vale and me since moving here, that is.
Like me, he’s wearing a kimono. Something I only had to slightly bully him into.
Whereas I opted out of clothes underneath—save for underwear, of course; I do have some dignity—he wears a black oversized Iron Maiden t-shirt, gray thermal sleep-pants that cinch at the bottom, and bulky white socks under his.
The lime green floral print interwoven with purple thread makes his hazel eyes pop even more than they normally do, drawing out the threads of green.
As does the silver sparkly gel eyeshadow he let me smudge around our eyes.
Surprisingly, without much of a fight. But I suppose at that point, after having let me brush and braid his hair, he was all out of steam.
“What?” he says later, long after I finished catching him up on what happened between Vale and I, making me realize I’m staring again. Only this time, he actually calls attention to it. His cheeks are pink, but his narrowed gaze remains locked stubbornly on mine.
I bite my lip and shrug. “Nothing. Just…you’re, like, really pretty.”
He curls his lip at me. “Are you quoting Mean Girls again?”
I round my eyes. “What? No. No. I mean it. But…” I lower my chin, voice deepening with my sincerity, “You do think you’re pretty too, don’t you?”
He hangs his head, cheeks darkening. He mutters something under his breath.
“What was that?” I’m pretty sure I can guess—call it a hunch—but I want to be certain.
He huffs, and lifts his gaze to mine, eyes glimmering with some unreadable emotion. “I said boys aren’t supposed to be pretty.”
I roll my eyes. “Says who?”
He spreads his arms, the wide kimono sleeves billowing. “Society?”
I stick out my tongue, pretending to gag. “Society says a lot of stupid things that aren’t true.”
His lips purse like he wants to say something but is struggling to get it out. Whipping his head to the side, he blinks rapidly at something out my bedroom window, suddenly looking miles and miles away.
I could push him to tell me, to talk about what I know he’s been struggling with. Maybe normally I would, but these days I’m not feeling so…normal.