It didn’t matter that I’d said the exact same thing last night.
Telling Della off on my own was one thing; having a stranger do it made my need to protect her at all costs surface. “Blue isn’t unnatural.” I shrugged. “Blue is the colour of the sky. It’s one of the most common colours around.”
She pursed her lips, causing more lines to appear. “That may be the case, Mr. Wild, but blue in the clouds and blue on one’s head are two completely different things.”
I held my tongue, waiting for any other reason I was here. Della’s detention was hardly breaking news to call in a caregiver. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as Ms. Sapture’s cheeks reddened, and her righteous voice slipped into disgusted. “I’m sure you’re also aware that in this state, there are rules about unnatural relationships between family.”
This time, she didn’t look up as if she found making eye contact with me repulsive.
“Excuse me?” I hissed.
“I said unnatural relationships between fam—”
“I heard you.” I shot to my feet, hands balled. “And just what the hell are you implying?”
She stiffened but dared look up. “I’m implying that some information has come to light that you and Ms. Della’s bond is more than brother and sister.” She tapped some papers with a pink-painted fingernail. “This is Della’s enrolment application. You signed as her brother, yet a student here informed us that a more worrying connection might be at play.”
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t see past the red haze in my vision.
All I wanted to do was grab Della and run. What had she done? Who had she spoken to? What the fuck did she say?
“Whoever said such things is lying,” I bit every word as if killing them with my teeth.
“That might be, but whenever accusations like this arise, it is protocol to call Child Protective Services.”
I backed toward the door. “You have no right.”
She stood behind her desk, eyes gleaming. “I do have a right, Mr. Wild. In fact, I have an obligation. I invited you here today to state your side of the argument, but if you have nothing to say on the matter then—” She picked up the phone on her desk. “I suppose I might as well make that phone call now and get this over with.”
Fuck.
What did I do? Waste the precious time I had trying to make her see reason or bolt now and pack up as much as I could? Where the hell was Della? I couldn’t move until I knew she was safe and—
Commotion sounded outside, the receptionist’s high-pitched voice arguing against one I knew better than my own.
Della.
Before I could spin and open the door, she shoved it open and stumbled over the threshold. Every nerve demanded I grab her, but I had to bury those urges because she wasn’t alone.
“What the—?” I said under my breath as she dragged Tom, her ex-boyfriend, into the small office and slammed the door. She held his hand with a death grip, her fingernails making white indentations in his flesh.
“What is the meaning of this, Ms. Wild? Why is another student from a different school in my office?” the principal snipped. The phone dangled in her hand, unconnected and silent on its horrible message that Della and I did something immoral.
“I know who started the rumour, Ms. Sapture,” Della said, yanking Tom closer. “And it’s just that. A stupid, silly little rumour that’s gotten out of hand.”
I didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and Della refused to make eye contact with me.
I’d been forgotten about as Tom gulped and hung his head. “It was me, Ms. Sapture. I started it. I wanted to make life difficult for Della.”
The principal gave him a harsh stare. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He flinched as Della dug her nails harder into him. “Della and I were going out, but then she dumped me, and I got jealous and made up the lie that she broke up with me because she was in love with her brother.”
Holy shit.
I stumbled backward, dragging a hand over my mouth.
Della flicked me a glance, then fixed her stare back on the principal. “As you can see, Ms. Sapture, my brother is as horrified by this as I was. I couldn’t think of a more terrible thing to say.” She glowered at Tom beside her. “Jealousy makes us do strange things.”
Ms. Sapture slowly sat down in her chair, her witch-hunt game-face fading in favour of the truth. The only truth. That Della and I weren’t blood, but we were family through and through.
Aren’t we?
Della let Tom go but not without a heated, warning look. “So you admit it? You and Tina have been spreading lies about me?”
Tom gritted his teeth as if he wanted to argue but nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
“And you have no evidence to back up this lie? No photo or video revealing the vile things you said?” Della’s eyes glittered a ruthless blue. Her blue hair matched, contrasting with the auburn and browns of her school uniform.
“None.” He blew out, his tall frame sinking. “I made it all up.”
Della crossed her arms, nodding once at Ms. Sapture. “You see? Stupid student gossip. I don’t know why it started, but it’s over now. Not a word of it was true and I’m sorry to waste your time.”
Ms. Sapture looked put out, struggling to get control of the situation that Della had so successfully commandeered. Finally, she waved at the door with bored impatience. “I’ll accept your explanation for now, Ms. Wild. However, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’ve been around enough students to understand rumours usually start from some kernel of truth.” Her gaze found mine as she leaned forward almost in a threat. “One more sniff of such a thing and I’m calling CPS, regardless of your dramatics.”
I glowered back, refusing to let her intimidate me.
Della brushed past me, opening the door and letting Tom step out before her.
“Oh, and one more thing, Ms. Wild,” Ms Sapture clipped. “I want that colour gone by tomorrow, do you hear me?”
Della didn’t answer, and with a flick of blue motioned for me to follow her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
DELLA
* * * * * *
Present Day
I KNOW, I know.
I was stupid. Incredibly stupid. So stupid it almost meant we were separated again, but if it hadn’t have been for detention with my blue hair, I would never have heard the rumour until it was too late.
I’d been under the illusion that Tom was trustworthy, and my minor slip after our kiss didn’t bother him too much—not enough to tell people about. Yes, were dating, but he was wanted by a lot of girls, and I was nothing special.
Saying the wrong name after kissing him had been my error, but I’d apologised and believed him when he said it didn’t matter. I stupidly accepted his assurances and didn’t think anything more on it.
Turns out, he started making out with Tina, my so-called best friend, and she decided to rat on me. We’d gotten close over the few years, Tina and I, close enough for me to slip occasionally and reveal things I shouldn’t about me and Ren.
I never came out and said I wanted him or that I was in love with him, but I supposed she read between the lines.
And yes, I know you’re calling me names, and I totally accept them because it was idiotic to confide in someone, but…I had no one to talk to. No one to help settle my nerves every time the overwhelming desire to kiss Ren pounced on me. No one to be a shoulder to cry on when the wanting became too painful. And no one to offer advice on how to move past such a horrible situation and just accept that things would never change between us.
All I told Tina was there was a boy I liked.
A boy who liked me but not in the same way.
When she asked if it was one of Ren’s friends, I hesitated. Tying Ren’s name into any of this was dangerous but making it be an older guy who was no longer at school and who couldn’t be researched made sense.
So I gave in.
I fo
und myself spinning a tale of unrequited love with one of Ren’s friends—not that he had any—and how I’d kissed him once but that was it.
Tina was sympathetic and sweet and acted as if I had a terminal case of the flu and needed constant mothering. At first, I loved it. I loved having someone nurse my achy breaky heart and be there whenever I needed to vent. But then, her questions became more prying, her eyes more suspicious, and I stopped telling her things.
I stopped muttering secrets like: when he’s near me, it’s all I can do not to reach out and grab him. When he’s cooking beside me, my mouth waters and not for the food. When he’s asleep, I wage a battle to stay in my bed and not go to his and repeat the mistake I made last time.
By the time I met Tom, Tina was sick of my wishing over a boy I could never have and encouraged my crush on Tom. He could be talked about freely, and I shared intimate details with Tina because she shared them with me. I knew she wasn’t a virgin anymore and I knew she’d bled when a guy called Scooter took her to the movies and ended up banging her in the back seat of his car.
She was worldly to me, and she gave good advice on how to seduce Tom and what to expect when I first jumped into bed with him.
Unfortunately, armed with her prior knowledge of me pining for a boy who I wouldn’t name, when she found out Tom had broken up with me after kissing at the Halloween party, she couldn’t understand why.
She’d badgered and badgered for answers, until finally, in a moment of utter moronic weakness, I told her that I’d said the wrong name afterward kissing him. I’d said the name of the boy I was in love with. Ren’s friend.
I thought I’d covered my tracks pretty good.
I patted myself on the back for keeping her away from the truth.
Funny, how it was the exact opposite.
Tina messaged Tom, telling him off for breaking up with me. They’d had some hate-lust-text-war for a few weeks before hooking up behind my back. Then, of course, it was just a matter of time before Tina mentioned my sad, hopeless situation of being in love with someone who wouldn’t even notice me, and Tom told her the name I’d breathed after our kiss.
Perfect explosion.
But you know what I’m most mad about?
I’m mad that neither of them came to face me. That they didn’t ask for my side of the story before they jumped to conclusions, figured I was boning my brother, and spread gossip loudly enough to get the principal involved.
So yeah, dying my hair blue was stupid. But at least it landed me in detention right next to Tina, who smirked and asked if I’d been summoned to the principal’s office lately. I waved the slip in her face and she giggled. She told me to expect a certain brother waiting for me, along with a few other people who wanted to discuss our ‘family dynamics.’
I’d bolted from detention without gathering up a stitch of my belongings. My backpack left opened on the floor; my pencil case on the desk, and my notebook on the page of my current homework assignment.
I left it all behind as survival instincts overrode everything and I hopped onto the nearest unlocked bike in the bike shed and hoofed it over to Tom’s neighbouring school.
There, I’d yelled his name until someone pointed me in the right direction. The moment I found him in after-school woodworking, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him to my campus, all the while telling him the truth.
The only person I ever told the entire truth to.
I held nothing back. I told him my last name was Mclary, and I’d been rescued from monsters. That Ren wasn’t my brother. That he was the reason I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. And that yes, I was in love with him, but it was fine because he wasn’t in love with me and nothing inappropriate was going on. Not that it was any of his business because Ren and I weren’t related, so even if we did get together, the only law being broken was the fact I was a minor and he was not.
And once I’d spilled everything, dragging my ex-boyfriend to fix what I’d broken, I made him swear to secrecy. And because I didn’t trust his vow never to breathe a word, I added a threat. One that would surely put me in hell because it was yet another of the seven deadly sins. Lying. Or, at least, I think it’s a deadly sin. If it isn’t, it probably should be.
Doesn’t matter.
The point is, I told him I’d spread a rumour how he’d fucked me against my control. How he’d gotten me drunk at that party, had his wicked way with me, then spread a different kind of rumour about me to take the heat off him.
His eyes filled with hatred, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was ending this nightmare before it ruined everything.
You see, I only had one year left of high school.
The next time Ren and I ran, I wanted it to be for good. I never wanted to have to tie Ren to a new place so I could go to school. I never wanted him to feel as trapped as I did. I wanted to be free because maybe, just maybe, away from people and rules and constant reminders, Ren might slip enough to realise he loved me, too.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
REN
* * * * * *
2016-2017
FOR TWO MONTHS, our packed backpacks rested by the door ready to grab at a moment’s notice. I’d never opened a bank account as I had no identification to appease the paper pushers, and the cash I’d diligently saved was hidden in a small box under the rickety floorboard beneath the couch—ready to be snatched and taken.
I’d wanted to run the day we got home from the principal, but Della had picked a fight and we’d argued well into the night. Her reasons for staying were she didn’t want to move schools when she was so close to finishing, that she’d fixed it so the rumour would fade and the teachers would chalk it up to stupid teenage drama, and that I was too flighty.
I’d roared at that one.
Flighty?
How about fucking wary that even though Della was more adult than kid these days, she could still be taken away from me. Excuse me for not caring about anything other than her. Running meant abandoning my work and our apartment, but I would gladly give up everything over and over again if it meant she stayed safely by my side.
But even in the wake of my temper, she’d won in the end—just like she always did.
I bowed to her pleas to stay, just for a little while, and gamble with time to see who was right. If Tom kept his mouth shut, we would be free to stay. But if he didn’t, it might be too late to run next time.
I hated it.
I hated that I didn’t just grab her and leave rather than listen to her debate and bow to her conclusions. But something else made me agree and not just her excellent arguing skills.
I agreed because of the rumour that’d called me in to the principal in the first place. The rumour that Della was in love with me.
My heart had stopped and hadn’t beaten correctly since. It was just a silly rumour, but I agreed with Ms. Sapture: truth lived in rumour, and if such a thing was said…
Could it be true?
Who had started it?
And how could they screw up my mind by making me fear that my love for Della wasn’t pure, after all. That it was tainted and no longer black and white.
I withdrew even more from her.
I stopped using her nickname.
Whatever physical contact still existed between us, ceased all together.
She obeyed me and stripped the blue from her hair but that was about all she obeyed me in.
We became strangers living in the same apartment, and I couldn’t stop it because every time I looked at her…I wondered.
I wondered what she felt for me.
I wondered what she kept hidden.
I wondered about so many things I shouldn’t wonder about.
For eight long weeks, I ignored her when she was home, yet made her text me after each class. Just a quick I’m fine to let me know she hadn’t been taken by CPS. It was the only way I could focus on my work and not get trampled by the cows. And ignoring her at home was the only way I could be civil and not tear into her,
demanding answers to the sick questions inside my head.
Was she in love with me?
And if she was…where the fuck did that leave us?
The incident should’ve ended up with us homeless and running again, but somehow, it was swept under the rug and life continued as normal.
All of it, from the threat of Social Services to the rumour of Della’s affection for me, was never mentioned again.
It made me nervous.
It made a ticking clock hover over my head, speeding up time and somehow slowing it down.
Christmas and New Year’s came and went.
We didn’t celebrate it.
Spring arrived, and as snow left the world a more habitable place, Della withdrew from me as I’d withdrawn from her, causing an even worse strain between us.
God, I missed her, but I had no idea how to fix something I didn’t understand.
Then, two weeks before our joint birthday, I broke my wrist.
The pain of being kicked by a cow while trying to hook it up the milking machine was a price I’d happily pay all over again because it gave Della back to me. If only for a little while.
She swooped toward me after I’d driven home one-handed, turned off my bike, then stomped down the stairs and into our tiny apartment.
Her eyes widened with worry, taking in my swollen ugly wrist, instantly losing her wariness around me and fussing as kindly and as sweetly as she had with the splinter.
She bustled around, fear and affection thick in her voice as she charged to the mostly-empty freezer to find something cold for the swelling.
With jerky speed, she flew back to me, skidding to a stop and falling to her knees before me. Her focus entirely on making me better and no other mess from before.