8. Kayden
KAYDEN
ONE MONTH LATER
I’m growing impatient. I gave Madelyn time.
One week, two—now we’re at four, and I’m still waiting for her to make the move and come to me.
No matter how much I wonder what’s running through that little mind of hers, I’ve been pushing through.
Things between us have been chill. We sit together at dinnertime and pretend to be okay.
A mutual agreement we never actually had.
Like our last conversation on the roof changed us.
But there isn’t much I can do about it, because I’m neck-deep into this coding shit every single waking moment.
Another attempt at saying no left me with a sore back for a week and led to my submission. Thank you, Dad.
Maddy’s busy going out with her friends and enjoying her summer vacation before her last year of high school. She doesn’t think of me as much as I indulge in thoughts of her, despite my limited time.
My obsession with her has deepened, and I planted a few more cameras around the house, so I can watch her go about her day without bothering her.
I alternate between classes three times a week in an academy specializing in coding, one town away, and a private tutor the rest of the week.
“I’ll see you in two days, Kayden. Hone those skills.” My tutor pushes his glasses further onto the crease of his nose and gets up from the desk we’ve been sharing.
It’s right before dinner, and I know my father is going to be home soon.
Maddy’s mom is in the kitchen, and the aroma that spreads throughout the house is mouthwatering. Something meaty and spicy. A stew, maybe?
I decide to take a shower until the food is ready, so I head upstairs to the second bathroom. I don’t wanna parade in my towel in front of Miranda.
When I get to the middle of the corridor, my eyes seize on something at the bottom of the ladder to the attic.
The red puck I gifted to Maddy is there, on the floor.
She’s up there.
I’m tired, and I really need to take a shower, but I can’t miss this opportunity. I’ve been hungry for interaction.
The less she gives me, the more I want.
I’m an insatiable beast.
I climb up with the towel and my change of clothes, not giving a shit.
Once there, I toss everything on the lone desk in the room and step out of the open window.
Maddy’s sitting down on the shingles, focused on a book.
She sneaks a glance at me as I approach her.
“Reading filthy smut?” I joke, because she doesn’t know I know.
“Always.”
I cackle at her reaction.
Something inside me tickles, knowing she isn’t lying. She’s really reading about sex when I’m almost confident she’s a virgin, one with an innocent exterior and a dirty mind.
She continues to read for the next thirty seconds before inserting a bookmark into her book and shutting it.
“Sorry, I was in the middle of a chapter.”
“That’s alright.”
I take a seat beside her. “Anything good?”
“Yeah.”
“Did they get to the smutty part yet?”
“Nope, it’s a slow burn.”
“What’s a slow burn?”
Her small mouth forms an O shape.
“It’s when two characters yearn for each other until they can’t take it anymore, and then they explode. The groveling is long, their denial too. They don’t get to it right away. They wait. They avoid it. But when it hits…it hits.”
She explains it like I, too, am an avid reader who’ll get it from her confusing explanation.
I mean, heck, I might read one of her little smutty books someday to see what she likes.
“O-kay.”
“You wouldn’t get it,” she says.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re impatient. All guys are. You want to get to the good part fast. I bet you’d skip the whole plot and go straight to the smut.”
I shrug. Can’t deny I’d probably do that.
“Maybe I’m a romantic at heart,” I say to prove her wrong.
“You?” She scoffs. “Come on now, Kayden.”
“Fine, you got me. I’d probably skip to the smut.”
“I mean…” She bites her bottom lip, sneaking another look at me before diverting her gaze. “Sometimes the smut is the best part. Sometimes all you want to read about is two people getting it on. It’s a mood thing and that’s fine, too.”
“Wait.” I draw my eyebrows together. “So you’re grilling me about skipping to the hanky panky, and now you’re saying it’s actually okay?”
“I wasn’t grilling you.” She sets the book on her lap. “I was pointing things out. And I wasn’t wrong, was I?”
Here’s the Maddy I know. The one who’ll never settle for a moment of peace with me.
I roll my eyes. “Right. Anyway, done with your literary porn?”
Her cheeks blush, and she nods.
Her hairstyle’s different today. Her brunette locks are tied back with a red bow, her two pink streaks decorating the sides of her face. Combined with the long cream-colored dress she’s wearing, it gives off innocence and sophistication.
“Saw the puck. You wanted to talk?”
“Yes.” Madelyn’s shoulders relax. She leans back a bit and rests her hands at her sides. “I didn’t want to bother you. You look so busy and stressed these days.”
“You’re welcome to bother me. If you haven’t noticed, I’m into that.
I thrive on chaos,” I say. “No, but really, that’s why I gave you the puck, Little Demon.
You’re very welcome to push it to my face mid one of my private coding sessions.
Would love to see the look on Mr. Higgles’s face when you do. ”
My coding tutor is a middle-aged man with zero sense of humor and an all-business attitude. He wouldn’t find it amusing at all, but I would.
She softens. “I’ll take that into account.”
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
She shrugs. “Actually…nothing. I like being here, with you.” She avoids my gaze. “It makes me calm. Away from all the noise in my head.”
“You can always talk to me about all that noise in your head.”
She stares ahead, the night falling, the annoying stars making an appearance, along with a half-moon. The air between us grows thick.
“I knew you were tense, so I brought these.” She picks out what she was resting underneath her book and extends one my way. “Plus, the air here makes your skin dry. These are supposed to be both relaxing and hydrating.”
“What are these?”
“Face masks.”
I examine the package in my hand. It reads ‘Relaxing Devil Mask’, and it’s designed to look like a red devil face.
I cackle and look at hers. ‘Relaxing Angel Mask’. And it’s white with hearts.
She’s still sticking to her signature teasing, I see.
“The fuck?” She’s unbelievable, though. “Now that I don’t have time to bully you twenty-four seven, we’ve suddenly become besties who do skin care together? What’s next? Mani-pedis?”
She gives me a firm smile. “If you want.”
“Hell no.” I stare at her. She opens her pack and unwraps the mask, placing it on her face. It sticks like glue. “Oh, fuck it. Let’s do it.”
I tear mine open.
“Let me help you,” Maddy says, looking like a mummy shipped straight out of Egypt.
“I guess Halloween is early this year.”
“Shut up, bully.” She takes the mask out of the packet, her eyes focused on the product.
“You’re the one giving us devil and angel themed face masks.”
“Stay still,” she demands.
My body reacts in a way that I don’t want to admit, but I do as she says.
She sticks the mask onto my face, pressing her delicate fingers to it, making sure the wet mask adapts and is firm on my face. Every single one of her grazes sends electricity throughout me, making it hard for me not to lean in and corrupt her.
I’m tempted.
“There.”
She leans back.
“Thanks.” I lean back too. The effect of the mask must already be working because I’m overwhelmed by a sudden freshness. I don’t want to admit it, but the fact that she thought of me, that she brought out these masks for me, warms my dark heart.
Fuck this girl. So pure and thoughtful. If this keeps going. She’s going to turn me into someone I won’t recognize. She’s going to fucking soften me.
I let out a weird moan.
Shit.
Maddy stares. “You okay?”
Stupid, stupid feelings. Look at me, almost whimpering because no one’s ever cared about me this much.
Did I seriously almost show emotion in front of my stepsister because she did something nice for me? The first person to ever do something like this?
“Yeah,” I lie. No way I’ll ever admit how much this is getting to me. “I think I almost swallowed a fly.”
“Oh. Eww.”
“Yeah. It’s fine. It’s gone. I’ve had grosser things in my mouth.”
I try to release the emotion and go for the silly, the non-serious.
I can’t get in too deep. I can’t show her this side of me. I don’t know if she’d accept me if I do.
“I’m not going to ask,” she says.
“Good. You better not.”
“So, how’s coding?”
“Hating every moment of it, obviously.” I yawn. “It’s hard and boring.”
“Damn, only one couldn’t be enough.”
I laugh.
“What about your new room? Why did you move downstairs? Couldn’t stand me anymore?”
I slap my thigh and laugh. “Surprisingly, no. My father doesn’t trust me to study unless he can control me. My room’s right next to him.”
“Ouch.” She winces. “RIP privacy.”
“I haven’t known privacy in a long time, Madelyn.”
“Dads suck.”
“Yeah, they do.” I say it before I realize what she said. “Wait. Does your dad suck too?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you see him?”
“No.” She pauses. “He isn’t part of my life anymore.”
“Shit. Did he die, too?”
She purses her lips. “Actually…I didn’t want to say anything. But my mom told me your mom died.”
Ouch. All the time we’ve known each other, the topic has never come up.
It’s not something I bring up. My father doesn’t allow me to, and I would rather not anyway.
But he told Miranda that? What else did he tell her? Did he speak about my brother?
“Yes,” I say, careful of what I let out.
I’m sure my father used my mother’s death as an excuse for me acting out, and that’s how Miranda found out.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I don’t really talk about her,” I admit, being the most vulnerable I’ve been with anyone in forever.
Fuck, if my father saw me now, doing face masks with my stepsister and talking about my dead mom, he wouldn’t be happy. He’d call me a pussy.
Madelyn inspects my features, tilting her head as if she’s trying to read me. The thing is, I’m the king of poker faces. My facial expressions can’t give you anything.
“It was a long time ago,” I say. “Sometimes I come out here and think of her, too.” I pause and deflect any further talk about her. “But you didn’t answer my question, Little Demon. Did your father die?”
“No,” Madelyn mutters. “He didn’t die. But he’s dead to me.” Her expression turns bitter. She holds her chin up. “Isn’t that the same?”
It’s a damn lie.
She’s hurt. She just doesn’t want to tell me.
Just like I don’t tell her I’m the reason my mom is dead.
That I couldn’t save her. That I ruin everything that’s ever been part of my life.
That my mom isn’t the only one I’ve lost.
We move on and pretend we’re fine even when our scars are spread all over our bodies, covered up by our clothing.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say. “Unless you want to.”
She hesitates. “Thanks. Actually…” She licks her lips, letting a few moments pass by in silence.
“He left me. Mom and I.” Her voice is soft-spoken, fragile.
“He grabbed me when I was nine, held me by the arms, and told me it was all too much for him. That he needed to live his own life and left.” Her tone is light, almost a whimper.
“He chose himself over us, that bastard. Even though he had a daughter and a wife.” She stops, her tone changing.
“So, yeah, let’s talk about something else, maybe. ”
She’s irritated, her words coming out sloppy and angry.
She hugs herself, and it makes me want to crawl out of my skin, reach out, and embrace her.
Shit. What did I do? What am I doing?
“What a fucking asshole.”
There’s only one thought in my mind that I don’t tell her.
At least he left, and he doesn’t beat the shit out of you. I wish my dad would disappear from my life.
Set me free.
But I don’t say that. She knows my father isn’t my biggest fan, and that’s it.
She doesn’t need to know what happens behind closed doors.
What Lucas A’gosto has put great effort into hiding.
I don’t want to pop the bubble she’s in, that she entered a slightly better family.
I can’t tell her that an absent father is better than a rotten one.
That one loving parent is better than none. That she’s had it better than me. I know her mother loves her.
But my father doesn’t know love.
And that’s probably why I can’t get myself to understand that feeling.
The only thing I know is seeing Maddy like this hurts.
“What do you want to talk about?” I don’t want to push her into saying more.
It’s clear this is affecting her.
“Anything.” Madelyn shrugs. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Your birthday?” I say. “It’s coming up.”
“Coming up?” Her tone is lighter now the hatred is out of her system. “It’s two months away.”
Maybe talking about problems is hard, but it lifts a weight off our shoulders.
I wish I could do the same. Throw out these bottled-up emotions, but I can’t.
Maddy doesn’t deserve to know about the anger I hold inside.
Her shoulders relax. “You know what? I’m glad I told you this, Kayden.”
It’s like I read her mind.
“It feels good, letting it all out. Thank you for listening.”
I nod. “It’s not a big deal.”
I continue shifting the conversation toward her, so she doesn’t think about asking me things. So she doesn’t say that now it’s my turn to talk, how it’ll soothe me if I do.
It’s not gonna happen.
“Now tell me, what do you want for your birthday, Little Demon?”