Seven

Chapter One

"I try to tell myself that I can't keep getting my hopes up each time my father returns, but I still feel so gutted when he leaves again. It's been ten years now of this back and forth, and I still can't seem to grasp the fact that we will never be a complete family. Not without my father." I drop my gaze to the ground, shaking my head. I don't cry anymore when Father leaves to Knothingham, but I still can't help ranting to Maxwell. He is my best friend, after all.

It took me a few days after we met to realize why Maxwell and I got along so brilliantly, but I quickly noticed how remarkably similar he was to my dear father. From his relaxed nature and silent brilliance, to his selfless heart and clever humor.

"Well, the mind is a complex thing." Maxwell says slowly, as if he is thinking through every word to make sure he gets his point across, "No matter how tenacious our efforts are, some things we simply cannot control."

I nod, considering what he said. He does have a point, I suppose, but his words don't exactly make me feel any better. I decide it is probably best to just change the subject.

"How is your Grandmother doing?" I ask softly, hoping he replies positively. Maxwell's grandmother, Alice, has been raising him for as long as I've known him. I still remember the day I first met Alice, and how I asked Maxwell later that day why his mother was so old. He then explained to me that she was not his mother, but his grandmother. I had the good sense not to ask him where his mother was, but that doesn't mean I didn't wonder. It was quite unusual for a boy so young not to have a mother there to care for him.

It took some time before Maxwell felt comfortable enough to share the story. How his parents left on a trip to Aaclya, a neighboring kingdom, while his grandmother watched over him. He was only seven years old at the time. The trip was only supposed to take a month at most, but his parents never returned. They sent no letters of explanation, simply disappeared.

Maxwell has no way of knowing if his parents died, or if they abandoned him on purpose. Even though he does not say it, I know that the abandonment has affected him. And, in some ways, I could say it has shaped who he is today. Maxwell is kind, but he does not trust easily. He is wary of people, and tends to cling to anyone who does stick around, as if they could vanish at any moment. And, as sad as it is, the truth is that his grandmother could vanish at any moment.

She is getting older and weaker every day, and people here in Caderivia don't live very long. The little money we have is spent to ensure we don't starve, and doctors are ridiculously impossible to afford. And even if you were able to pay for a doctor, they are very hard to come by.

Sometimes I wonder if Maxwell has come to terms about Alice passing away. I know it's going to be very difficult for him to handle her death, even if he doesn't admit it.

My chest tightens as I watch Maxwell's gaze drop to the floor. Suddenly I feel guilty, like I shouldn't have brought her up.

"She's alright." he says the words with such apathy that I can't help but frown. He's feeling something, but suppressing it. He doesn't want me to know whatever emotion is bottled up inside of him. I can tell by the way he presses his lips together, avoiding my gaze.

Why is it that boys feel as if they cannot express their emotions? I wish he would trust me enough to know that I just want to listen. I can't imagine what it would be like to feel something, but know you just have to ignore it.

If I felt a lump forming in my throat, I would give in and cry. I'd let myself feel all the emotions in the moment. But I'm positive that if he was in the same situation, he would swallow the lump until it went away.

Then, I notice something. His fists are in tight balls, his foot tapping rhythmically on the grass.

"You're angry." I say frankly, "Why are you angry?"