Chapter three #2
I palmed the rock and flexed my hand three more times before dropping the stone to the cushioned forest floor.
As I cleared the trees, I could hear the sound of a stream just up ahead. I called out for Bray, impatience lacing my tone.
Rushing water and the forest’s creeks and groans were my only answer.
“Bray? Come on. I need to talk to you.”
Where was that godsdamned boy? He wouldn’t have left me, would he? Maybe he was more annoyed at our argument than he’d let on.
I kept walking until I saw a pile of clothing on the riverbank. The water was flowing quickly, and the bank was high.
“If you’ve fallen in, I’m not coming in after you.” I scanned the trees and saw nothing. I didn’t think he would leave his clothes behind to go foraging in the forest, even as impulsive as Bray was.
“Bray!” I called out, louder this time.
Nothing was visible under the chopping rip of the river, even as I knelt on the bank. Panic gripped me like a pale hand reaching to pull me under at the sound of the rushing waters around me. He couldn’t have fallen in … I whipped around to look at the trees once more.
Nothing.
The river ran swiftly away with the angle of the hill, and there were rocks and ripping curves all along the banks.
Terror filled my bones as I reached for the slicing surface of the water.
A splash hit me in the face and a cold hand gripped my wrist. A shriek escaped me, to my own mortification and to Bray’s booming laughter.
“You ass! What were you thinking? I was about to go in after you!” I stumbled back onto the grassy bank while Bray stood waist-deep in water. His chestnut hair was darker when it was wet, the curls tighter.
Glistening as he stood from the cool waters, his chest was bare and far more solid than the last time I’d seen it.
I couldn’t deny that he had changed—a lot.
“You’re welcome to come join me.” He brushed his curls back with two wet hands. His stubble was sharp with the river clinging to him.
“No thanks.” I clucked my tongue and folded my arms. I was in no mood for Bray’s advances. All I wanted was to get this over with. “I just need to talk to you.”
As if that didn’t portend to something bigger, he just said, “So talk. I’m not going anywhere. At least not until you pass me my clothes.”
I picked up the bundle of clothing and hooked his pants over a finger. “I’m serious.” I turned around and held the pants behind me. “Climb out and get dressed. I’m not doing this while you’re like that.”
He laughed, and I could hear him wading through the water. “Like what?”
I turned with the instinct of feeling someone behind me. Gasping, I closed my eyes from the sight of him fully naked before me. The pants dangling between us were all that hid him from view.
“Bray! What are you doing!” I swung back around and dropped the fabric at his feet.
“Ha! I never thought you were such a prude, Gen.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to see my friend naked right now. It will just make hugging you goodbye far too awkward.” I tried to make a joke of it, but I realised too late that I’d just let it slip out. No softening the blow.
The only sound for a moment was the river crashing behind us.
“What are you talking about, Gen? You’re leaving? You can’t leave.”
I dared a look around then. Keeping my back to him just didn’t feel right. He was covered at least by holding his clothes over himself. It was uncomfortable to say the least. But it was unfair that I had blurted out my plans.
“I am leaving,” I repeated. Steady. Sure. And saying it out loud finally made it real. I thought I would feel sick at the reality of it. Of the finality of saying it to him. But I felt an odd sense of something in my blood. Was that excitement?
“I got that. Now get to the part where you explain why. What are you thinking? Leave for where? For how long?”
“I don’t have to explain, Bray. I’m just leaving.” I couldn’t, in fact, explain. Not to him. I reflexively went to touch the pendant beneath my blouse but stayed my hand before it moved.
The seed of my curiosity about my parentage, the place I’d come from, the people who had left me had finally begun to take root, and now there was no way to stop it. I just had to grow with it.
But how did I explain that to the boy who had grown up in a loving family?
One that cherished him. Their pride. Their heart.
How did I explain to the farm boy who fit in?
His chestnut hair and curls the same as his father’s.
His brown eyes the same as his mother’s.
His ears the same as theirs. How did I explain to the person who didn’t understand what it was to not belong that I needed to find what that felt like?
“Yes, you do!” His voice bellowed, but it was somewhat undercut by the bundle of clothing at his crotch while he dripped.
The details of my plan to travel south, to see the coast, burned on my tongue as I refused to utter them. What good would it do Bray to know those things? “You’ve always belonged. You don’t know what it is to feel like you don’t.”
“What? What are you talking about? You do belong. You belong with—”
“Don’t. Please,” I cut in with a pained whisper.
“With me,” he huffed.
I didn’t mean to, but a pitying look fell over me.
I chewed my lip, uncertain of what, if anything, was the right thing to say here.
“I know you think that. But I … don’t. I don’t belong.
Here. With you. I don’t know where I belong.
But I’m going to find that.” I backed away two steps.
“I’m sorry, Bray. I didn’t mean it to come out like this.
I didn’t ask you to come with me. I was always going to leave. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“And Leesha?”
I winced. “She knows. I just—”
“I’m not important enough?” he cut over me.
I ignored his question. “She has Jon.” Leaving them had been more difficult than I’d imagined.
I didn’t belong with them. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of me that would mourn the departure.
“Without saying goodbye?” His nostrils flared as his chest heaved in and out.
“It’s easier this way.” I backed away as he reached for me, nearly uncovering himself.
“Easier for who? Does this look easy?” His voice rose to a shouting pitch.
I crossed my arms, shook my head, and backed away another step.
“Damn it, Gen. Wait. Just give me a minute. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry. Just—let me get dressed.” He fumbled with his pants. “You can’t leave. I can’t let you. I … I need you.”
But I backed away farther from his reach until he tumbled to the ground. “I’m sorry, Bray. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. This is my choice. I told Leesha because I didn’t want to break her heart by vanishing.”
That was an overstatement. Maybe I was protecting mine from the loss she wouldn’t feel. The sadness I wouldn’t have seen in her eyes.
“But you’re happy to break mine?” He’d managed to get his legs into his pants now and was standing as he did them up.
“I … I didn’t …” I’d known Bray had feelings for me for a while. I just thought they were conflated with lust. I didn’t think they were any more than urges. Maybe if I’d been honest with myself about last night, I could have predicted this.
“Didn’t know? Gen, how could you not know? I left to follow you when I saw you were going because I thought—” He released a long breath into the cooling evening air. His chest was still damp from the river. “I thought I’d be able to speak with you alone. To—”
“Bray, don’t.” I cut him off before he could suggest something we’d both regret. “Don’t do this. Not now. I’m leaving. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“I wanted to marry you, Gen! Damn it!” he said in a rush. His voice boomed across the sky until two birds, one black, one pale as snow, escaped the canopy with the ruckus that shook them loose.
My throat seized, and my heart went cold and still in my chest.
“Well, say something, damn it.” His face was like glass, cracks forming but not yet shattered.
No words came though.
“Isn’t this what you want? To belong? To be part of a family.”
A thud in my chest answered his question.
It was.
But was this it?
I did want to belong. Was belonging to Bray what I wanted?
Was it enough to belong to someone? Anyone.
He’d care for me. His family were capable of love.
“I don’t care that you’re different. I don’t care that you’re fae. No magic. Whatever.” He dragged his hands across his face. “I don’t care. Our children will have brown curly hair, with your nose and my eyes.” He laughed softly. “They’ll be happy with a mother and a father who love them.”
I paused at his words. The warmth of the sentiment lost on me. “What if they have my eyes, Bray? My ears. My hair. What if they’re different like me?”
“They won’t be. They wouldn’t.”
My mouth hung open as I tried to find the words. “And would that be so bad if they were like me?”
“Gen. That’s not what I meant.” He reached for me. “Please. This is all wrong.”
“At least you got that part right.”
Without much care or thought, I picked up his bundle of clothing, boots and all.
And dumped them in the river.