Just a House #2
The word boyfriend sparked conflicting reactions. For Dex, the word had pride swelling in his chest. Cya’s parents, however, were far less enthused. Their mother gasped dramatically, blanketing her mouth with her fingertips. Their father’s rattle clattered.
“Don’t be silly, Cylene,” he drawled, sounding almost bored.
“She’s always doing this,” Mrs. Vysov whined. “I don’t know what I ever did to make her so spiteful.”
“I never—” they tried, but their father spoke over them.
“Come now. You’ve had your fun and accomplished your goal of upsetting your mother. You can drop the charade.”
“It’s not—” they tried again.
“Where’s Hemersyn?” their mother interrupted. “I need a Xanax. My poor nerves can’t take it.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Cya insisted, voice rising in volume. “We’ve been dating for over a month, and I care for him a great deal.”
Their mother pressed the back of her hand to her brow like a bad soap opera actress. “Deities have mercy, I’m feeling faint.”
With an exhausted sigh, Mr. Vysov patted her hand in a mockery of comfort. “Calm yourself, my jewel.” To Cya, he said, “Your cry for attention has been noted. There’s no need to carry on like this. Dismiss the… boy, and we’ll talk more in private.”
“Yeah. that’s not gonna work for me,” Dex said, and Cya nearly strangled his hand in a bid to quiet him.
“The insolence,” their mother spat, the flustered-victim-act cracking. “Such a beastly boy.”
Cya bared their fangs, tail shaking menacingly. “Stop talking about him like that!”
“Enough, Cylene.” Their father slithered forward, porcelain crunching under the weight of his tail. “Your antics are tiresome. We’ve had a long journey, and I have no patience for your rebellious dramatics.”
“We came home early because we missed you, and this is how you show your thanks? You’re being so selfish,” Mrs. Vysov whimpered.
Gaping at their audacity, Cya scoffed. “I’m being selfish? Are you fucking serious?”
“There’s no need for vulgarity, darling,” their mother sniffed. “We didn’t raise you to—”
“You’re right; you didn’t raise me,” they said stiffly as another tear trickled down their cheek. “Hemersyn did.”
“Oh, poppet, do something.” She shook her husband’s arm as rich-women-tears swam in her eyes. “She’s entirely out of control.”
Dex’s temper burned hotter, and this time, he couldn’t swallow it down. “Oh my gods, stop misgendering them! That’s super shitty.”
Lunging forward, Cya’s father rose high on his tail, looming over them both. “I will not be disrespected in my own home, especially from the likes of you, you impertinent little pito!”
Dex snarled, baring his canines, but Cya shoved him back and took a protective stance in front of him.
They faced down their father, rising on their tail to make themself bigger.
Almost on eye-level with him, they shook their tail loudly, fangs descending until they were nearly too long to fit in their mouth.
“You will not speak to him like that,” they hissed furiously. “You act like respect is owed to you, yet you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
Swelling with rage, his nostrils flared. “You contemptuous child.”
“Your child, for which I have never been more ashamed,” they seethed in his face, and his hand twitched, then balled into a shaking fist, like it was taking every ounce of his self-control not to strike.
Tension vibrated in the air between them.
Mr. Vysov glowered at Cya. Cya glared defiantly back.
Mrs. Vysov hovered low to the ground, tail coiled protectively around herself.
Dex was frozen with indecision. He wanted to yank Cya out of harm’s way, in case their dad really did lose his cool, but he didn’t want to rob them of this.
His phone was vibrating constantly now, someone calling over and over, but he didn’t dare check it. He didn’t dare take his eyes off that shaking fist. If their father hit them, Dex would prove exactly how much of a pito he could be.
The battle of wills seemed to last forever but could only have been a minute or two. In Dex’s opinion, Cya was winning, especially when their father blinked, the fire in his eyes cooling to hardened metal once more. He exhaled, face returning to its cool detachment.
Tilting his chin minutely, he looked down on Cya, and when he spoke, it was almost businesslike. “I see. How”—his volume lowered even more as he enunciated every syllable so they couldn’t miss a single one—“disappointing.”
One little word, but it cracked Cya right down the middle. They lowered, tail curling beneath them until they were nearly sitting on the tile. Chest hitching, they hugged themself as fresh tears poured down their cheeks, and Dex dropped to his knees behind them.
He slipped an arm around their waist as the other banded across their chest, and he glared up at the triumphant lift to Mr. Vysov’s cheek. The Sypent straightened his tunic as he looked down his nose at Dex, and Dex peeled back his lips to bare his teeth again.
“Once you’ve finished with your childish temper tantrum, your mother and I shall await your apology. As for you, mutt,” he said to Dex with a cruel twist to his mouth, “consider yourself lucky that I haven’t notified the authorities. I expect you to vacate my property before I change my mind.”
Dex growled, low and dangerous, but Cya’s father gave them both his back and casually slithered away. “Come, Cadynce. Leave the girl to clean up the mess she’s made.”
“I only ever wanted you to love me,” Cya said, words choked and broken, and their parents stopped. “I tried so hard to be what you wanted, but I’ll never be good enough for you, will I, Father?”
There was a flash of something in their father’s eyes, the briefest show of emotion. Regret, maybe. Or uncertainty. Before it had a chance to truly form, his pride chased it away, and he cocked his head in vague curiosity.
Sobbing openly, Cya gazed at him pleadingly. “Why can’t you love me? I just want you to love me.”
From his place several yards away, he lowered himself to be almost eye-level with them, expression unreadable as he echoed Cya’s earlier words, almost verbatim. “You act like love is owed to you, yet you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
And that was it. Whatever hope Cya had left died right there on the veranda. Dex watched it gasp and struggle; he heard its death rattle. Then Cya slumped back against him with a heartbreaking nod of acceptance.
“I see. How disappointing,” they whispered, more to themself than their parents. They gazed down at their hands in their lap, tears pooling in their palms. Their chest hitched, even as they nodded again in resignation.
With a whine, Dex rubbed his face into the nape of their neck. He tightened his arms around them as their despair burned his nose and flooded his own eyes with tears.
Before either Dex or Cya could do or say anything else, Hemersyn’s flinty voice cut through the early evening, sharp as a knife. “That is quite enough.”
As one, Dex, Cya, and their parents turned toward the house where the Avia stood in the patio doorway, flanked by Toni and Quin. Quin’s normally dark red complexion was pasty and pale, but she stood tall beside Toni, who looked ready to throw down at a moment’s notice.
Relief and hope had Dex sagging against Cya’s back. “Unholy shit, you guys came.”
Quin offered him a tight smile. “You called, didn’t you?”
“Cavalry’s here, motherfuckers,” the Elas said with a jagged smile that was far more threatening than it was friendly.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Vysov demanded as Cya’s mother cowered behind him. “Who are you?”
Toni swaggered forward, porcelain shattering under his shitkicker boots. “I’m Toni fucking Maryno, baby. Are you the guy I’m supposed to punch?”
“Let’s avoid violence, if we can.” Placing a cautionary hand on Toni’s arm below his biceps fin, Quin scrutinized Cya’s parents coolly. “I’m Quin Duboi, and we’re here to collect the kids.”
“Duboi?” Mrs. Vysov squeaked, and Dex swore Cya’s father paled a shade or two.
Ignoring the confrontation entirely, Hemersyn strode purposefully across the veranda, crouching down to cup Cya’s face in his taloned hands. “Forgive me, my dear. I didn’t know of their arrival until it was too late.”
“Hemersyn,” they sobbed out his name, and he cooed comfortingly, kissing their forehead.
“I’m here now.” Above their head, he met Dex’s gaze. “Are either of you hurt?”
Dex shook his head.
“Good. Come, Cya.”
The Avia encouraged them to stand, and Dex climbed to his feet as well once Cya was stable. They leaned heavily against Hemersyn, blubbering half-formed apologies as he ran a palm over their wet hair. Reaching back with one hand, they grabbed Dex’s wrist, and he twined their fingers firmly.
“This is not to be borne,” Cya’s father was saying, attention jumping from Toni and Quin to Hemersyn. “Hemersyn, explain yourself.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Hemersyn said as he wrapped an arm around Cya’s shoulders. “You, however, have a great deal of explaining to do.”
The Sypent reared back as if struck. “I beg your pardon.”
“I shall not grant you that either.” Hemersyn’s crest was high, feathers puffy with outrage. “I have held my tongue for far too long, much to Cya’s detriment, and it will remain one of my greatest regrets. But no longer.
“You, Róbyr, are as meretricious as you are cruel, and your manipulative shrew of a wife is no better. Cya deserves so much more than you ever gave them, and it is your failures, not theirs, that has led us to this point.” The Avia tightened his arm around Cya as they hung on his every word.
“Only a coward wields love as a weapon, and against their own child, no less. There is no greater shame.”
“You forget your place, McKhaw,” Cya’s father fumed, and Hemersyn smiled icily.
“No, Róbyr, you forgot yours. No child should have to earn a parent’s love. If the gods could grant me one request, it would be that you both understand, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the gravity of all you have done and all you are about to lose.