Malachi #3
Kai and I are hanging out in the Sullivan living room, he’s absolutely miserable and it’s all my fault.
After the first letter between him and Dax, I started putting his letters in the foot locker for Dax.
I wasn’t throwing them away and I wasn’t torturing my twin, but I was lying to my best friend.
“I know what we need.” I say suddenly, startling Kai out of his thoughts. Turning on Fall Out Boy, I pull him to his feet, screaming out, “DANCE PARTY!”
He rolls his eyes at me, but soon we’re dancing around his living room. When the chorus for “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me” hits he’s belting it out with me at the top of his lungs. I sneak a few pictures where you can tell he’s not happy, but can see that he’s trying.
The guilt is getting to me. I know Dax said no letters because he couldn’t chance Kai wearing him down.
And I knew I couldn’t bring myself to tell Kai that I wasn’t sending the letters to Dax, that he wasn’t getting a response because he didn’t know about the letters.
I mean, yeah, Dax did tell him no contact, but Kai tends to ignore all of that and pushes his way back in instead.
The song changes to ‘Skater Boi’ by Avril Lavigne and we’re really getting into it as Seb walks in.
We broke up over the summer because I wasn’t going into my senior year with a boyfriend who still hung around the school hustling kids to make extra money when he could be in college for a business degree to open his own mechanic shop.
I mean, he was always tinkering with something anyways, why not put that to good use?
Seb stops as he enters the house, leaning against the door frame of the living room, he watches us for a bit. Feeling his eyes on me, I turn around, flipping him off with a sneer. Taking the hint, he shakes his head and after an exaggerated eye roll, turns to head upstairs.
We dance for a few more songs before collapsing on the couch. “Feel better?” I ask Kai as he lays his head back on the couch to catch his breath.
“I think so,” he says, his voice getting sadder with every word. “By the way, you bring me a new shirt to switch out?” he asks, standing to head upstairs for the old shirt when he sees my answering nod.
Stopping to grab some pops from the kitchen on the way back, he comes back into the room as I’m pulling the new shirt from my bag. He takes it and I hold my hand out for the old one. “These can’t even fit you anymore, what the hell do you want ‘em for?”
Kai takes it, brings it to his nose, and takes a long whiff before answering. “I put ‘em on my pillow, like seriously? You had to ask? Sometimes I use it to clean up…”
I stick my fingers in my ears, “LA-LA-LA. I don’t need to know what you use to clean up anything…gross!” I screech, gagging as I smack his chest as he arranges the shirt over his shoulder.
“You think he’s doin’ okay, Mel?” Kai asks, his face turning somber again.
“Yes, I think he’s fine. He’s a Mikhailov, he knows how to survive.” I say, before taking a deep breath to tell him, “I won’t be around this weekend,” holding my breath and hoping I won’t have to elaborate on that.
Kai looks at me quizzically, “Where you…never mind,” he mutters, a look of knowing crossing before shifting into annoyance, “have fun and tell him to fuck off for me.”
Slumping my shoulders, the guilt is back, “Don’t be like that, you know why he’s doing this.”
Dropping onto the couch beside me, Kai shakes his head, “No, actually I don’t.
But I don’t give a fuck either. He could have handled it any other way, maybe dropped even a fuck you note over the past few months, but instead radio fuckin’ silence.
Not even a thank you for the birthday card.
Bootcamp and college is gonna be a blast if this is how he keeps in touch,” he says, bitterness lacing his tone.
I laid my head on his chest, “Kai, you know that would be different. Stop! Look, just…” my eye catches the time on the clock sitting on the mantle. “Fuck I gotta go. I’m sorry. I’ll see you Monday, okay?” I tell him, gathering my things and running out the door.
∞∞∞
The ride on the L to the detention center has me filled with dread. I know what I have to do and Dax is gonna kill me. I mean, yeah it’s his fault, but I could’ve handled it better.
Waiting on him always feels like it takes forever. When he walks into the visitation room and sees me, he smirks as he grabs the phone. “Damn thought you forgot where I was.”
“Oh, shut up! You know it’s hard to sneak off like this,” I scoff, with an eyeroll. Looking him over, he seems to be okay, but he’s always been able to hide when he’s struggling. “How you doin’ anyways?” I ask, flipping him off as I wait for his reply.
“Oh ya know, same ol’ shit,” he answers. He sniffs, knocking his thumb against his nose, "How's," Dax pauses, glancing around before dropping his voice, “Kai?” he asks, clearing his throat and trying to sound non-chalant.
“Welllll, I kinda came here to talk to you about him. He’s completely miserable and it may be partly my fault.” I start, twisting the phone cord around my fingers, biting my lip while I anxiously wait for him to ask. I have to come clean with one of them.
Dax looks at me, a glare already starting, “Explain Melody Eliza, what did you do?”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, I can’t look at him when I confess, “I took more letters from him for you, I told him I was sending them to you. Instead I stashed them in your footlocker and now he thinks you’re ignoring him,” I explain quickly, bracing myself for the explosion I know is about to happen.
After a moment, with nothing being said, I open one eye and see Dax go red, “You did WHAT? How am I supposed to fix this? Trust you! You told me to trust you. WHY….WHY did you do this?”
“Calm down! I know. I fucked up and it’s been killin’ me. He’s gonna hate me. But, I just couldn’t tell ‘im no and he insisted that he could make you see things his way. You begged me not to do that to you. What was I supposed to do?” I ask. Pleading my case feeling as if it falls on deaf ears.
Dax bites down on his knuckle while staring at me with his icy blue eyes dark with anger and frustration. He sets his shoulders, and seeming to come up with a plan, says, “Well, you can start by sendin’ ‘em to me. How many are there?”
I chew on my chipped nail as I quickly add it up, “One a week since you’ve been here, so four times nine…36-ish I believe, plus a birthday card.” I tell him.
He balls up his fist and I see his grip on the phone tighten, through gritted teeth he says, “Send ‘em to me. I’ll fix this for you, but you owe me.”
I nod as I watch him think for a minute, “Thanks for the visit, send ‘em and then gimme a minute to calm down before you come back.”
And with that he slams the phone back into its slot and is gone. ‘Dude, I’m so fucked,’ I think, hanging my head in my hands before standing and sulking out of the visitation room.
As soon as I get home I check that I’m alone.
Confirming no one else is there, I head straight for Dax’s footlocker.
Pulling the key from my shirt I gather all the letters and pack them all together to send out on Monday on the way to school.
I don’t know what he’s gonna do, but I’m gonna do as Dax asked.
∞∞∞
A week later, I’m back at Kai’s. We’re sitting at the dining room table doing homework when my phone rings.
It’s an unknown number and I almost don’t answer, but there’s a chance it’s Dax and he doesn’t get to call much.
I answer the call and the automated recording informs me that I have a call from an inmate at the juvenile detention center.
‘Holy Shit, it’s him,’ I think, my eyes snapping over to Kai who’s staring at me with a confused look on his face.
When it connects the first thing I hear is “Give ‘im the phone.” Knowing he doesn’t have a lot of time, I don’t hesitate in holding the phone out to Kai.
Seeming confused as to why I’m trying to hand him the phone, he looks at me with that dopey ‘what the fuck’ face. Rolling my eyes, I push it in his direction again, “Take the phone Fucker, he doesn’t have a lot of time,” I say, nodding for him to take it.
Eyes widening in recognition of who is on the other end of the phone, he snatches the thing from my hand and has it up to his ear in seconds. I watch the smile appear as I hear, “Hey, Kitten,” across the line.
Kai’s face softens and he moves away from the table. I still feel guilty, but at least now, he has his Khayos on the phone.
Fifteen minutes later he hands me back my phone and has a deep scowl on his face.
“What'd he say?” I ask as I look up at him trying to determine what could have happened on that call. ‘How much damage control do I need to do?’ I think before he answers.
“He said that he misses me, but he won’t budge. He wants me to move on and live it up my senior year.” he grumbles, “Well, fine! If he wants me to move on, then, fuck him! Wanna go dancin’ Friday night?” Kai asks me.
‘What the fuck did I do?’