7. Kayden
KAYDEN
I take a long drag of my last cigarette and exhale, letting the heaviness exit my body. Another sip of wine and I’m reborn. The sour taste with hints of sweet grapes sits well on my tongue.
The view is exhilarating from up here. The row of houses showcasing similar architecture, the wide street in the middle leading a path to the unknown, and how it’s all quiet save the sound of the passing cars. It’s perfect.
It all seems so small, so insignificant, it makes me feel powerful, causing the hairs at the back of my neck stand and my skin crawl. Like little spiders sprinting along my arms, running a marathon, eager to sting me and get a taste of my blood.
I’m aware it sounds terrifying. No normal person would compare a satisfying view to having spiders spread through their bodies. But then again, I’m not normal.
A normal person wouldn’t be here. A normal person doesn’t have to deal with the shit I do.
“Kayden! Dinner time!” Maddy’s voice echoes through the walls.
It’s unusual for her. Ever since we declared war on each other, she couldn’t care less about what I do or don’t do, let alone if I eat a proper meal. Even since that day—she hasn’t gotten anywhere near my room.
My father must have sent her to get me.
“Hey, asshole!” she insists.
There it is. The feisty little menace she is.
“What do you want?” I hiss, well aware she can’t hear me. “What does it matter whether I eat or not?”
She’s bothering me.
The same way she’s done ever since she walked into my life. Sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.
Her infuriatingly gorgeous face, is always in my way, too. Wherever I go, she’s there.
It’s like she’s begging for me to notice her, to mess with her. Why can’t she leave me the fuck alone like everyone else always does?
I groan, slamming a palm onto the shingles underneath me.
I’m not some basket case asking to be saved. I don’t need her pity.
Wasn’t last time out here enough? I guess not. She’s a stubborn one.
She’s still trailing my every step, following me like a stray puppy.
She calls my name again, and instead of getting up and going back into the bedroom, I opt for stretching my arms and putting them behind my head, making a pillow with them.
Lying down on the roof, staring at the sky, the grainy clouds almost fading, ready to let the stars show up and steal their show with their shiny little presence.
Unpopular opinion here—stars are overrated.
They’re not beautiful, nor enchanting, nor hypnotizing as everyone else claims them to be.
No. They’re just in the way.
They’re in the way of my getting to see my favorite part of the sky.
The darkness that follows when night falls.
Now, that’s the real beauty. In the dark, you can hide. In the dark, you can be yourself, without judgment or fear. No one to tell you what you did right or wrong. No one to scold you or lay a hand on you. In the dark, you can do anything.
But stars? Those shiny little dots to guide us when we’re lost?
I’d say they’re there to stick their nose in our business, nosy little things, the same as my little sister.
I fucking hate stars.
I divert my gaze away from the sky and sit up. Hissing under my breath as I look down, observing our neighbors going on about their lives instead. They’re so tiny they could be confused for ants.
Madelyn must have given up and gone. I can’t hear her anymore.
Great.
I hold the cigarette between my teeth and lie on my stomach now, stretching along the rooftop, reaching the edge with my face, letting my arm dangle and testing my endurance.
Not a single hair on the back of my neck stands. I’m not afraid of falling. I’m not scared of dying. Quite the opposite, I like to tempt destiny.
Try me, bitch. If it’s my turn, I won’t stand a chance against it anyway.
I’ve watched enough movies of people fighting against death to know that if it wants you, it gets you.
Instead, all I do every day is try to look for reasons to stay.
To be strong, to keep showing up despite all the anger I have piled up inside me.
Hidden by years of arguments, pacing around, and looking for answers.
Wondering what the heck I’m doing with my life.
Trying to be the perfect son and doing a shitty job, according to my father.
Here, in the early night air, with the swift breeze playing with my hair, and the stars judging my every move, I feel safe. Warmth and comfort. Even as I dangle my arm into the void, the risk of falling is nothing compared to suffocating in this house with people I’ll never be able to please.
I find one of my neighbors, point at them down on their porch, and bring my index finger and thumb together, squinting my eyes and pretending to squeeze him. As if he were a bug. Or my father.
“Kayden?” The alarm in the voice makes me look over my shoulder, despite the obviousness of its owner. Madelyn is standing by the open window of my room, hand on the frame, staring out with concern. “What are you doing?”
The uninvited intruder strikes again, asking me to notice her.
It’s no surprise that I’m so fascinated by her. No matter how many times I try to push her away, she keeps drawing herself closer to me, insisting on being in my life.
Fuck, she makes me feel wanted.
“Don’t worry.” I press the cigarette butt against the tile next to me and flick it off the roof with two fingers. “I’m not planning anything if that’s what you’re thinking. Just stretching.”
“That’s too dangerous.” She pauses. “In fact, I think it’s a bad idea that you keep coming out here.”
“Why? Cause I could fall?”
She gulps and nods.
I cackle. “I won’t. In fact, you should come out here too, Little Demon. Seems to me you’re a little thriller seeker yourself. If you dare show up here again.”
I swing my hand forward, motioning for her to join me. “Come on. Take a look at what you’re missing.”
She hesitates, standing still. I can see the eagerness in her big brown eyes.
“I’m not falling for that. You already fooled me once, and you almost killed me, Kayden. I’m not going out there again.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Oh, but did I?”
“N-no. But you almost choked me to death, asshole.” She hugs her arms, glued in place.
“Exactly. With an emphasis on the almost. If I wanted to, I would have done it, Madelyn. I clearly don’t.”
“Well, I don’t trust you,” she spits out, her cute brown eyebrows creased against her forehead.
Her long hair is up in a bun today. She’s breathtaking, even in the simple pair of dark jeans and pink blouse she’s wearing.
“I’m only here because your father told me to come get you.
We’d better go. You know how angry he gets when we don’t listen. ”
Oh, do I know. She has no fucking idea.
“Fuck him. I’m not hungry. Come on, sis, just for a sec.”
Let me corrupt you a little.
She’s still grounded by the window, but she doesn’t leave.
“Come on. Don’t you crave a little rush?”
She doesn’t say a word. But she wants it. Her eyes glint, and I’m sure of it.
I get up, walk slowly to her, and extend my hand. “Don’t be scared. I’ll hold on to you. I never pushed you down.”
She sighs, gradually taking my hand. I help her climb out of the window, in the middle of the roof, the same way I did before.
For a moment, part of me wonders what’d happen, how I’d feel if I did let go of her, push her to oblivion, and watch her little body convulse on the ground.
I pry that thought away as fast as I can as a stabbing feeling penetrates my chest.
No. I may be a piece of shit to her most of the time, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—cross that line with her. Never.
Her hand is so soft and small, causing warmth to radiate throughout my chest as our fingers intertwine.
She lets go of me, and we take a seat to our right, on the shingles.
“This is what the night hides from us, Little Demon. Take a look.”
We sit side by side, me with my legs stretched forward, leaning back and propping on my elbows. Maddy has her knees bent.
“This is how people look when they think they’re not being watched.” I point at the neighbor on the porch, the one I mentally squashed before. He’s sitting on a rocking chair and smoking.
Probably sneaking away from his wife and kids, wanting a moment of peace.
I point next at the house next door. One of our neighbors came out to dump the garbage, and as she leaves it and walks back, she leans against the column of her own porch and sighs.
Then, she sneaks a look at the neighbor next door, on the rocking chair.
“A fucking love story in the making there,” I say.
Maddy tilts her head. “I-I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“She looks ashamed of something. That’s why she looked at the neighbor, to see if he’s seen her.”
I hum. “Is that so? Well, the way I see it, he’s trying to escape his life and rethinking his life choices with a cigarette. And she’s got this huge crush on him and is sneaking a glance, wondering if she’ll ever get the chance to replace that cigarette in his mouth with her cunt.”
I place the cigarette in my own mouth and hold it between my teeth.
Maddy turns to me and gasps.
Surprisingly, I enjoy that little sound coming out of her mouth.
“Nah.” She clicks her tongue, regaining her confidence, and looks forward again. “I bet she’s married, too, and…” She squints her eyes. “I don’t think he’s her type.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not…attractive, I guess?”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
I laugh at that. “Oh. Madelyn Almighty. Dictating what is and isn’t conventionally attractive. What is attractive to you?”
“Umm…”
She stares at me, face flushed. Her eyes widen as she inspects me.
“Are you…is that…what happened?” She hesitates, her mouth open, as she stretches her hand forward.
It takes me a moment to understand what she’s doing.
Her palm presses into my tender skin and I bite back a groan.
It’s still sore. The fucking bruise on my face. I have no idea how it looks, but I bet it’s purple or something, and I’ve sweat through the makeup. My father fucked up this time, hitting me somewhere that can be seen. He should have taken my back when I offered.