Chapter Thirty-Four
FOR YEARS, APRIL was the fearful one. She was the girl who couldn’t hack it exploring abandoned malls, even though we needed to for survival.
She used to close her eyes before she fired her slingshot, so terrified of seeing the blood when it struck an animal.
Of course, her shots never did. You can’t hit much with your eyes closed.
I made up the difference. I killed enough for both of us. I went into ruins and pulled out supplies. I did every shitty thing I needed to in order to keep us alive, and when she got sick, I made the call to bring us here.
So how is it that this place broke me?
I watch April claw her way through mathematics and new classmates, but I can’t leave this farm without crumpling like newspaper.
When Tom said I wasn’t cut out for civilization, I thought he believed I was too dangerous to fit into society.
I forgot wild animals usually bite out of fear.
The world beyond the acreage is monstrous and I have nothing to defend myself with.
So I curl up on the bed like a hermit crab retreating into its shell and wonder when the sounds in the walls will stop haunting me.
When Sid comes home, he hushes my apologies and says things went fine. It makes it worse. I already know I’ve let him down and don’t deserve his kindness, but I must look too fragile to handle criticism. What am I supposed to do to convince him otherwise? Beg him to yell at me?
I don’t know what to say, so I turn my back to him on the mattress, shutting down any further conversation. We fall asleep next to each other, but not touching for the first time since I moved into his room.
By the time morning comes, I feel slightly better.
Sunlight is a marvellous thing. I’ve gotten very good over the years at pushing my dark moods away once daylight greets me.
Never mind that the only reason I’m awake before the others is that I barely slept.
I drizzle extra honey into breakfast and put on my brightest smile.
Wendell looks unnerved when he tastes the porridge. “Sid’s gonna get after us for using so much of the honey.”
I ignore him and gather up three bowls, plus a kettle of mint tea, and carry the lot upstairs to our apartment. I have it all nicely set out on the bookshelf when Sid finally emerges.
“I made breakfast.” I gesture to the display. “Thought we could eat up here. It’s cozier.”
“Feeling better?” he asks.
“We need a table. How do you not own a table?”
“Well, there wasn’t much point, living alone.”
“Sure, but you’re not alone anymore.” I point to where I’ve pushed the seashells and perfume bottle out of the way to make room for bowls and cups. “And coasters! Do you think the exchange has coasters?”
“I don’t know. You want to go check it out?
” It’s a small dig, and if he were a stupider man, I might think it was unintentional, but Sid watches me with a wary eye.
I don’t know why he’s taking issue with me being nice to him this morning, instead of when I was sulking all night, but I decide not to dignify it with an answer.
“Morning, April!” I call as my sister shuffles out of her room. He exhales sharply through his nose, but he must understand that I don’t want my shit dragged out in front of my sister.
I try not to notice the way he broods at me over his tea while April tries to convince me that her history teacher is the most sadistic woman known to humankind, all because of a pop quiz yesterday.
After April leaves for school, I make a point of not talking about last night and Sid has the decency to follow my lead.
Maybe this problem can fade away. Give it enough time, and I’m sure I’ll get over my cowardice.
I’ll attend the next town hall and we’ll never, ever have to talk about that night where I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house for no good reason.
Sid heads outside to work with the rest of the guys as they attempt to build a rain catchment system out of a mishmash of old piping. I help Young Tom butcher chickens, so we don’t have to feed the males through the winter. It’s a productive day. A good day. We’re back to normal.
But in the evening, right as Carlos and I have started slicing up vegetables for a bean and mushroom casserole, Albert runs into the kitchen with a message.
“Kayla! You’ve got a visitor.”
“What?” My knuckles whiten against the knife. Visitor. The word rings more like intruder in my ears. What the hell is someone doing on the acreage, looking for me?
I squeeze the knife, reminding myself of its weight. It isn’t large, but if someone from Astolia is here, it’s better than nothing.
“Yeah, Sid’s out talking to her, but she asked for you,” says Albert.
She? That rules out the Grand Astrologue, but I don’t trust any strangers.
I glance between Albert, who is waiting expectantly for me, and Carlos, who hasn’t looked up from the mushrooms. April, Sid, and the boys are the only people I’ve talked to for weeks.
Why would anyone come to see me here? There’s no one else I know or trust.
“Should I tell her to come inside?” Albert asks.
“No.” If she’s dangerous, I can’t let her inside the house. A surge of adrenaline pulses through me as instincts I haven’t used since my time in the wilds rage back to life. “I’m coming. Stay back here, Albert.”
“Um… okay?”
I surge through the door, brandishing the blade and find…
Amy.
Amy Sullivan, talking to Sid.
They turn, and Amy’s eyes pop when she spots me—a blinking, knife-wielding idiot, arm frozen in a raised battle stance, as if I were going to war, not greeting a woman in a pant suit. All the fight I built up vanishes. The knife falls from my hand. “Amy—I mean, Miss Sullivan,” I sputter.
“Hi, Kayla.” She waves tentatively, smiling that pretty, perfect smile of hers. “It’s so good to see you. Sid invited me for dinner and—”
“You didn’t tell me that.” I round on him, heat flooding my cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to have company?”
“I tried to—” he starts, but Amy waves her hand, cutting him off.
“Oh, he told me to swing by when I could get the time off. There wasn’t a specific date.” She punctuates her explanation with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, is tonight a bad night? I can go. If you want, I can—”
“No. No, of course not. Please stay.” I smile so hard my teeth grind together. “Why don’t you wait for us in the kitchen. I need to have a word with my husband.”
She turns to Sid, eyes wide, but he nods. “If you don’t mind, Amy?”
“No… of course not.” She slides a piece of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and walks towards the kitchen door where Carlos is poking his head out with a curious expression.
I grab Sid’s arm and drag him into one of the fields. It cuts into my ability to yell at him—Silas and a few of the other guys are still working outside—but it’s the closest we can get to private right now. “You at least could have told me about an open invitation!” I snarl at him.
“I planned to! I didn’t know she would come today,” he hisses.
“Planned? Did something get in the way of this plan?”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not the one who’s been avoiding conversations. You shut me down when I tried to talk about last night, so forgive me if I thought it would be better to wait a day or two so that you might consider talking about it.”
It is so bloody awful, arguing with someone who has reality on their side. My face burns with a mixture of embarrassment and rage. “Why did you invite her? I came at her with a knife. Do you have any idea how mortifying—”
“She was worried about you. She asked.”
Another, even more horrifying thought crawls down my spine. “Did you tell her about me? About the things I told—”
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?” That adverb is doing a lot of work and none of it is good.
“She asked why you didn’t come last night, and I told her you had a rough day. That’s it.”
“And then she shows up? The next day?” I press, disbelieving. “You told her a hell of a lot more than that.”
“I didn’t! Her uncle works in immigration.
You’re not the first person to move here and have…
stuff to sort through.” He’s struggling to put things diplomatically.
“People don’t need to know how the shit got on your boots to smell it.
I’m sorry, all right? I would have told you she might swing by, but you wouldn’t talk to me—”
“Fine. Whatever. I get it. I’m the one being illogical.” I throw my arms in the air. “Why don’t we go inside and have dinner, then?”
“Kayla, that isn’t what I said.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, but I knock him away. “Please. I’m trying to help.”
“When I asked you for help, Sid,” I say pointedly, “inviting strangers into the only place I feel safe wasn’t what I had in mind.”
The colour drains from his face. Against all odds, it seems I’ve won this fight. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
Amy is sitting in the kitchen with her hands clasped tightly while James regales her with some story about overhearing the island’s white-tail deer going into rut last week. The poor woman looks ready to pass out from discomfort.
“James, move.” I push him to the side. “She came to see me, so I get to sit next to her.”
“Well, I am not one to get in between female friendships.” James gallantly slides down the bench, making room.
How did he even know she was here? He was nowhere near the kitchens when she arrived.
He must have some special organ for sniffing out female pheromones.
He grins his usual smarmy grin. “I dated twins once, you know. Worst mistake of my life.”
“Thank you,” Amy whispers. Mercifully, this means we’ll have something to talk about other than my issues or the fact that Sid and I obviously had an argument. Harassing James really is the perfect cause for women to rally behind.
Sid and I had an argument. We hadn’t done that since we started sleeping together, either.
I push the thought away, determined to perform normality. “All those years in TNS and dating twins is the worst thing you’ve ever done?”