Okay, I felt bad that the updates hadn't come yet so I'm putting this chapter back up but it's got extra in it. Little recap at the start for you as well :)
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The whirring noise of the library returned, but it wasn't as comforting as it had been before.
Brynn picked up her pen from the floor and placed it in the middle of her paper. By the time Silas had finished one page and was turning it over to write on the back of it, Brynn had managed to move her pen into seven different positions around the page to align it with different things.
She had also not done well to turn a blind eye to the swelling thoughts and feelings that were itching to shake her hands and legs. She shouldn't have agitated Silas like that. She should be doing her work right now. No, her work should be done by now.
So many thoughts like those repeated over and over and over, until they were rinsed out by what Silas said next.
"If I buy you a lemonade, will you stop thinking so loud?" he was looking up.
Brynn bit the inside of her cheek, she was only allowed to have a lemonade occasionally. Callan only gave them to her every once in a while. This didn't feel like a special occasion.
Nevertheless, she didn't want to agitate Silas further than she already had. Nodding, she let go of the pen she was attempting to put into an eighth position, "yes, please."
Silas sighed, pushing his chair out and standing up to walk over to one of the many vending machines that were by the library entrance, that were just in Brynn's eyeline.
He came back, putting the yellow can with lemon designs on it in front of her. She gulped, "thank you," and waited for what she felt was a good amount of time before reaching forward to bring it closer.
"You went into the university building?"
Brynn nodded, picking at the packaging that her sandwich was held in.
Penny grinned, "what was it like?"
The former let her lips upturn at the corners, "really cool."
She stopped picking at the packaging and sat up a bit more to look at her friends better. "The hallways are huge and- and there's five vending machines in the library."
Aubrey slammed her water bottle onto the table, "five? We don't even get one!"
Penny leaned back in her seat, staring off as if into the distance but only really at the library table where they usually ate lunch. "So cool," she muttered.
"Sounds awesome," Aubrey opened her packet of crisps, the crinkling of the package louder in the room, causing the librarian who's never too far away to scowl; Aubrey gave a sheepish look in apology and reached into the packet anyway. "I can't wait to be old enough to go there."
Penny nodded, "me neither." She looked towards Brynn, "and you got a lemonade too. I didn't know schools were allowed to sell fizzy drinks to students. University sounds so much better."
"Well, aren't university students technically adults?" Brynn asked, picking at the bread.
Penny breathed a laugh, "I don't think so. My brother finished university last year and he still can't work the vacuum."
Brynn chuckled, finally picking up the sandwich and taking a bite of it. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few seconds, before Aubrey spoke.
"How did it go with Silas?" she asked, almost hesitantly.
Brynn's grip on the sandwich strengthened as she swallowed the bite. The sandwich was put down.
"It was okay. He just did some work."
"Oh, that's good," she reached for another crisp again, "did he tell you anything about what was happening with Mrs Gren?"
"I really hope she gets in trouble," Penny said thoughtfully. "Like... like fired or something. She's horrible."
Brynn nodded, maybe not agreeing with the fired aspect of Penny's statement. Was that too drastic? Sure, Mrs Gren wasn't the nicest teacher she'd ever had, but she'd been a teacher for years and she still was. That must mean that she wasn't doing much wrong.
She just hoped she wouldn't get mad at her for telling her brothers because Mrs Gren didn't like them either.
Aubrey was still waiting for her reply, so she shook her head, "no, he didn't speak about that."
He didn't speak at all really in the entire hour they spent together, not after he bought her the lemonade. And that was fine. Brynn had come to a realisation that her fifth eldest brother didn't like to speak much to a lot of people.
And that was fine.
Instead of thinking into that any more, she decided to try and turn the conversation into something new. She pushed the animatedly decorated lemonade can forward, "do you want some lemonade?"
Penny and Aubrey grinned, Aubrey reaching for it first, "yes please. Was waiting for you to offer," she joked, taking a sip and then passing it to Penny.
After drinking, Penny licked her lips, "that tastes so much better than the high school drinks."
Brynn laughed quietly, taking the can back when Penny held it out to her and sipping it from it. She really liked lemonade. "How can you compare it to the drinks here? They don't sell lemonade here," she put the can back into the center of the table so either one could have more if they wanted.
Penny shrugged, "I just can."
Brynn nodded absentmindedly, picking at the bread once again and wincing mildly. She didn't feel as good about food today.
When the bell eventually rang to signal the end of the lunch period, she wrapped the sandwich up and shoved it back into her bag, ignoring the disquieted looks Penny and Aubrey gave her. Instead, she slung her backpack around her shoulders and picked up the, now empty, can of lemonade to throw it out.
"What do you have now?" Penny asked Aubrey, because she and Brynn had English now and Aubrey's lessons always changed.
Aubrey shrugged in response, "not too sure. History, I think." She zipped up her bag and put it over one shoulder, "I'll walk with you guys first."
Only once she sat in her English seat did Brynn relax, no longer entirely thinking about the fact that food was making her feel ill again and able to focus on the only lesson she found enjoyable with a teacher that she found was certainly antithetical to Mrs Gren.
She understood what was happening in Mr Laurier's lessons. And if she didn't, then crippling anxiety and red cold fear didn't fill her when she asked him to explain it to her again. Not like it did when she was in Mrs Gren's lessons.
And Mr Laurier never looked irritated when she rose her hand, or when she needed help with a question. He permanently had a smile etched onto his face that made Brynn feel a little better about being in school or... or about not knowing what a mnemonic was.
She chewed her bottom lip, playing with her pen in both hands on the desk, looking up unsurely to where Mr Laurier was writing something on the board.
And... and he never scowled at her when nobody else was looking and he always said hello when she entered the classroom.
And this led Brynn to believe that maybe Penny was right in that maybe Mrs Gren wasn't the best teacher. But that didn't make sense.
Because Mrs Gren was an adult and she could do what she wanted.
She just wished so much of the lady's anger wouldn't be directed at her.
Even so, she tried to not let it ruin her English lesson.
At the end of it, the harrowing lump that usually sat at the bottom of her stomach after maths wasn't there, which caused Brynn to think once again about what Penny said.
Maybe telling someone was the right to do for the reason that maybe if someone told Mrs Gren how she was making her feel, then Mrs Gren would stop. And maybe Mrs Gren had things she wanted to say too.
"Brynn?"
She stopped packing up and looked up at Mr Laurier who stood behind his desk. He placed a pile of papers down onto the it and smiled, "do you mind if I have a word with you before you leave?"
Brynn swallowed out of sheer nervousness. That didn't sound too good.
The class was slowly emptying and she looked next to her at Penny, who shrugged, not sure what it was about either. Her friend picked her own bag up. "Do you want me to wait outside for you?" she asked.
Brynn thought about it, then looked at the clock at the front of the classroom. "No, it's okay, thank you. I'll see you on Monday."
Penny smiled and shrugged, "okay, I'll text you tonight." She made her way to the door, twisting the handle and smiling at Mr Laurier. "Bye, sir."
The man smiled, "have a good weekend, Penny."
Brynn watched her leave and the door close with a click.
"Nothing bad, don't fret," Mr Laurier smiled the second the door shut and picked up a sheet of paper from the top of the pile that he put on his desk.
He walked over to the back of classroom, where Brynn sat, and turned a chair from the desk in front to sit opposite her.
Brynn played with her hands underneath the desk, peering at the sheet in Mr Laurier's hand which she recognised.
The man smiled again and lay it on the desk, turning it around. "I have to say, Brynn, I am very impressed with your work this year."
Brynn felt a flush creep up her neck, but did her best to keep her focus away from it, rather focusing on the piece of work in front of her. Her work.
"And I thought, what with how despondent you seem today, that you might like something to heighten your spirits."
Brynn looked at the 40/40 on the top of page, aware that the redness had travelled to her face as she vigorously picked at her left index fingernail. She really liked English.
And Mr Laurier might've thought he was boring her but- "it wasn't because of your lesson, I'm sorry, I was listening-"
She stopped her rambling when Mr Laurier chuckled, raising his hand slowly, half-heartedly.
"Brynn, please, I know," he lowered his hand. Brynn exhaled in relief, pausing in the picking of her nails and letting her hands just rest of her thighs instead. Then Mr Laurier's face sombered up and her fingers started tapping.
"I wanted to speak with you about a school trip coming up in a few months," he said.
Brynn's fingers tapped faster, her right index coming down with such force that it stung. A trip?
"For a select few students in year eight. We each have to choose five people from our classes to go to a temporary Shakespeare museum that is currently travelling across the globe. It is quite a privilege for our school to be invited. I would like to volunteer you."
Back-peddling on the steadily increasing panic that had built up not even a moment ago, the twelve-year-old felt her eyelids twitch in a narrowing action, unsure whether Mr Laurier was being serious. He looked serious. "Is that something that you would be interested in Brynn?"
He wanted to volunteer her?
"Me?" she asked, to gather some reassurance. Her?
"You," the man in front of her confirmed.
So Brynn weighed the question in her mind. That is something she would be very interested in, very much so. And Mr Laurier wanted her specifically to go. That made her feel special.
But would her brothers let her? And was it expensive? Milo had never let her go on trips that cost something. This wasn't a mandatory trip, was it? Mr Laurier sounded like he was asking. He was asking. And thinking about this all was already exhausting.
It sounded so loud inside her head when physically she was still sat in her English seat, staring at Mr Laurier robotically whilst he stared back at her expectantly.
She curled her fists up, scrunching the material of her skirt with them and forced a smile. "I'll have to ask my oldest brother."
Mr Laurier grinned, "excellent, I'll go get the permission slip for you." He stood up and made his way back to his desk.
Brynn watched him go with a steadily increasing heart rate, really hoping that Zayne would let her go. That nothing would curb the secret bit of excitement she allowed herself to have over the prospect that she could go to an actual museum for the first time. One so related to her best subject.
Mr Laurier came back to her desk with a new piece of paper and pen in his hand. "Now if you just want to read through it now to get an idea of what we'll be doing, then the top half is for you to sign and the bottom half is for your brother."
Brynn nodded, listening to him and simultaneously focusing on the words on the sheet, muttering a quiet "okay" and picking up the offered pen.
Before she started reading properly, she looked up at the teacher before her who was still smiling.
She wished Mrs Gren was like Mr Laurier.
A more genuine smile made its way onto her face. "Thank you."
She didn't know what else to include in her statement. The thank you expressed what she wanted to express. Her gratefulness.
He had chosen her. He had thought she was worth the incredible school trip.
And the more Brynn relayed that information, the more she held onto the hope the Mrs Gren could be like this.
The man smiled even wider. "Of course, Brynn. I'm very proud of the progress you've made this year." Brynn blushed and smiled sheepishly. "And don't worry if things don't work out the way we want it to for this trip," he continued , "there will be many opportunities for school trips in the future. Don't feel pressured to go on this one."
Brynn nodded in understanding, "okay."
Mr Laurier stood up from the chair, "well I'll let you get on with that then." He pushed the seat back under the desk. "I'll be at my desk if you need me."
Once he'd sat back at his desk and started reading through a pile of work, Brynn also started reading too. Albeit, possibly a bit too quickly as she was far too eager to sign her half of the sheet.
She answered every gap that needed filling in, underlined every word that she thought held significance for re-reading purposes and circled the very last thing before standing up and tucking the sheet, and her graded piece of work, into her backpack. To maybe, possibly give it to Zayne.
She wished Mr Laurier a good weekend, thanking him again, to which he replied with a smile and told her he'd see her Monday. Then she walked through the hallways, to the front entrance of the school to wait on the steps for her brothers to finish their P.E classes.
Avoiding the field didn't require as much effort as she believe it would. With it being winter, most of the year eight P.E classes were inside. And her Silas' car was always parked near the front entrance staircase so they didn't have to look for her once their classes ended.
Silas, Zaiden and Zach didn't say anything about it, oddly. Possibly because Brynn didn't say anything about it either.
She didn't want to sit on the bleachers for a while. Not whilst the memory of Sid was still so fresh.
Holding her backpack closer to her chest, she leant back against the stone wall alongside the steps and linked her hands over the bag resting on her lap, ignoring the biting breeze nipping at her fingertips which she would tuck into her coat sleeves but then how would her backpack stay upright?
She looked at the step beneath her. A valid place to position the backpack, but then she might forget it when she stands up to leave.
So she has to keep ahold of it.
Slowly, she tilted her head back to rest against the rough wall, closing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows when she heard footsteps sound on the concrete stairs, sounding suspiciously close to where she sat.
When she opened her eyes, a cool ray of sunlight penetrated her vision for a second before a figure blocked it.
She gulped, tightening her hold on her backpack.
"Mrs-"
The lady made a hissing like noise, effectively silencing Brynn, as she bent down, allowing that ray of sunlight to encase Brynn's face again before she was yanked up, backpack falling out of her lap with a thud that made Brynn wince.
Mrs Gren had a barbarous grip around her left wrist which Brynn looked down at with a corrugated face, heart slamming itself against her ribcage. Teachers weren't supposed to do this.
Adults weren't supposed to do this.
The teacher pulled her forwards with a menacing grimace, digging her nails in further.
"You- you can't-"
"How dare you?"
Brynn flinched, curling her left hand into an impenetrable ball and giving up on her attempt to slipping her wrist out of Mrs Gren's grasp.
A pathetic whimper escaped when the nails trying to burrow themselves into her flesh felt like they finally broke skin. The woman bent her head down, eyes darkening, "I-"
Then suddenly the thin space between the two was interrupted by a calloused hand pushing itself in it. Atop Mrs Gren's collarbone in a manner that looked belligerent and pushing the woman back a few steps so that the owner of the hand could step in between them.
Like Mrs Gren, only partly out of free will, Brynn back stepped into the stony wall, holding her left wrist a lot softer than the older lady had.
She could only see the back of the person in front of her. His clothing looked like a suit, from the back, and he had a shaved head.
He towered over Mrs Gren with a look that Brynn couldn't see, but it made Mrs Gren falter. The panic that had rooted from Mrs Gren's initial confrontation inflamed.
"You should keep your hands to yourself."
Brynn shivered, lowering the sleeve of the coat around her sore wrist.
She had leaned over to look past the man at her maths teacher, who curled her fists up and snarled. "And just who are-"
"Cathleen," Brynn flinched at that familiar voice.
Zayne shut the driver's side to his black, sleek-looking car, with a suit that matched it's dark exterior. A dire expression, darker than Mrs Gren's was, yet his features didn't vacillate.
"I did not think you would be greeting me outside. How decent of you," he drawled monotonously, getting closer.
The unknown man stayed where he was, unwavering, but Brynn could still Mrs Gren's face and the scowl that overtook it towards her older brother.
Brynn narrowed her eyes at her.
"Mr Verlice," she seethed.
Zayne remained as is, now, however, on the same step as Brynn with a hand on her shoulder. "I think we've known each other long enough to be on a first name basis, don't you?" His tone was anything but accommodating as he guided Brynn's shoulder around so she was facing the large wooden entrance doors. "I believe the headmaster is waiting for us."
He led her inside and a crease formed between the youngest's eyebrows at the lack of greeting Zayne gave the other man out there. Hardly even an acknowledgement.
The crease stayed the entire walk to what Brynn soon realised was the principal's office. She saw the all-too-familiar blurred glass with the letters "Principal S. Kennedy" written across it and found herself being sat in one of the waiting chairs.
Zayne gave a hardened look, disregarding the blatant glare Mrs Gren gave him as she walked behind him and yanked the door to the principal's office open. He pointed a finger downwards, "you will remain here whilst I sort this out. Do you understand me, zusje?"
Brynn nodded quickly, gripping the armrests either side of her, "okay."
Zayne nodded once in approval and then walked away, entering the principal's office in a manner much more composed than Mrs Gren had.
She watched as he closed the office door agilely, looking away quickly when she heard footsteps coming closer to her.
Gripping the armrests and leaning into the back of the chair in a way that was most likely too swift to be normal, the girl saw the man from outside, in front of her.
He felt much taller when you were actually in front of him, especially sat, like one of her brothers and had a hard face that almost could compete with Zayne's. One hand slowly made its way from behind his back which had Brynn on edge.
The hand crept closer and closer from behind the man's shield-like torso until something hanging from his finger was completely on show and brought into Brynn's reach.
Her backpack.
Brynn blinked. She looked at the bag for five seconds before gradually lifting her gaze to the man's still face.
She looked back down at the bag and blinked again, reaching out for it tentatively and bringing it to her lap, similar to how she sat outside. Interlocking her hands over the front of it.
She smiled up at him, "thank you."
The man simply nodded, stepping away and walking to the office door. For a moment, Brynn believed he'd walk in, but he didn't. He stood to the left of it with his hands clasped in front of him.
Brynn watched him for a few seconds; he was unmoving.
She observed him properly now that he was fully in her vision. He had an older face and looked around forty with the occasional wrinkle and unfaltering frown.
He didn't look very happy.
Brynn rolled her bottom lip inside her mouth and furrowed her eyebrows; he didn't look very happy at all.
Subtly, she shuffled forward in her seat. "I'm Brynn."
His eyes moved to her, yet he didn't reply.
After moments passed, Brynn realised that he wasn't going to answer her so she slumped back into the seat, even more confused about who this man was.
It felt like at least half an hour had passed when the first signs of commotion sounded from the otherwise silent office.
The man didn't flinch, unlike Brynn, when a loud slam resounded, soon followed by an outraged cry from what sounded to be Mrs Gren.
"Fired?!"
Brynn winced, Penny predicted it.
A raised male's voice spoke up soon after- one that wasn't Zayne's.
"You must understand, Cathleen-" he started.
But Mrs Gren continued and got louder. "I don't understand!"
Brynn gripped her backpack and pushed it further into her chest.
"I have worked here for over forty years and you expect me to just leave?!"
The principal's voice wasn't as raised as it was before, but it was still easy to make out.
"Yes. Mr Verlice has-"
"I cannot believe this, Simon!"
"You have two weeks to-"
"I won't be going anywhere! This is utterly ridiculous!" she seethed in a voice that had Brynn going further than simply interlocking her hands, wrapping her right hand around her left wrist and ignoring the painful tug it caused.
"Do not make this harder than it needs to be, Cathleen."
It was silent a moment, all Brynn could hear was her own breaths hitting the material of her backpack.
It didn't last long. Another loud noise from the office resounded and Brynn could feel her teacher's rage through the door.
"I won't have this! All because that little cunt-"
"Quiet!"
Brynn flinched violently.
She had never heard Zayne's voice go so loud, so deep.
Her fingers started shaking and so did her bottom lip. It was terrifying. It didn't sound human. The simple word itself didn't hold a threat, it was a threat.
It was deadly silent. In the office and in the waiting room, save for Brynn's heavy breathing.
The door reopened, Zayne's face not like it was when he first went in. It was seething.
Only for a moment though, as Zayne took a deep breath in, and began fixing his suit cuffs. He walked out faster than he had walked in too, Brynn noticed, doing her best to control her breathing.
"Come along," he ordered, his long legs moving him down the hallways quicker than Brynn could get out of her seat.
Eventually, she caught up with him. Her eldest brother looked like her eldest brother again. Stoic and impassive.
She bit her lip, careful not to trip over as she looked him over as she did her best to stay beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Zayne didn't look at her, but he did answer shortly and deeply. "Yes."
Brynn nodded, mostly to herself and noticed the man following them, five feet behind and managing to maintain that same distance ceaselessly.
And Zayne still said nothing about him, which meant that he knew him.
Ever so quietly, she asked, "who's he?" hoping that she didn't seem rude, but the man wouldn't speak to her.
Zayne wasn't quiet in his response, not concerned with the fact that the man could hear him when he responded, "Carlo."
Brynn squirmed, looking back at the man- Carlo- nervously and then back at Zayne. "How come he's here?"
Zayne brought his left hand up and slipped his fingers into his shirt sleeve to pull it back and check his watch. "He's your bodyguard," he stated, monotonously as if he hadn't heard what he just said.
The twelve-year-old froze, quite literally, her feet rooting themselves on a spot involuntarily, mouth parted.
From her peripheral vision, she saw the man- Carlo, the bodyguard- pause, keeping that five foot distance between them.
Zayne stopped, the only movement made by him was the steady risings and fallings of his shoulders to signify that he was breathing.
He didn't turn around, although his head did turn, a slight downward tilt to it as he remained silent. It was nerve-wracking.
Brynn gulped, "since when did I have a bodyguard?"
She laced her fingers together in front of her, anxiously. Why did she have a bodyguard?
"Why would you believe I would allow you to walk around without one?" her eldest brother replied, overtly.
"Why do I need one?" Why?
She eyed his fists clenching at his sides.
"Because I say so," he said tensely.
Brynn felt her fingers shake again like before. She knew that Carlo was listening, but the man was so quiet, so inconspicuous, it didn't feel like he was.
"How long has he been following me?"
At that, the downward tilt of his head straightened up and he turned around to fully face her.
"Ever since I fired your old one."
---
Zayne pulled up directly in front of home, but Brynn made no move to exit the car. She played with the top of her backpack that rested on the floor and swallowed down the bile that had worked its way up her throat from the thick tension that lingered in the vehicle ever since she set foot in it.
Zayne made no actions to signify that he was going to leave the car either, his right hand firmly gripping the wheel and left elbow resting on the armrest.
Twisting her finger around the handle at the top of the backpack, she sighed inwardly about to make the first move to leave. She got as far as curling her hand around the door handle before a click sounded and the "Child Lock" button lit up above the door.
Reluctantly, she looked towards Zayne, whose right elbow now rested under the door window as he gazed blankly outside.
She uncurled her hand from around the door handle and sat back, attempting not to take notice of the crippling waves of fear rolling around in her belly.
They became impossible not to notice once Zayne filled the stilled atmosphere with his deep, baritone voice for the first time since they got in.
"Let me see your arm."
Brynn winced because she should have expected it. Still, she held out her right arm over the console and looked out her own window with trembling anticipation.
"You take me for a fool, my darling." Brynn sucked in a sharp and bated breath, waiting with a cruel feeling of trepidation.
But nothing happened. So she gingerly brought her right arm back to her side and replaced it with her stinging left one instead.
Carefully, with actions that didn't coincide with his exterior, he moved his own left hand underneath her arm, using his right one to slide her coat sleeve half way up it.
His eyes narrowed sharply, focusing on the deep-red, crescent-moon carvings on her wrist.
Brynn tried to forget about the stinging sensation surrounding each mark, concentrating on her fingertips instead. She tapped them against the armrest, where Zayne's elbow previously rested.
"Did you really get Mrs Gren fired?"
Zayne paused in smoothing his thumb over one of the particularly sore markings and moved his eyeline up to hers, even though she refused to look directly back.
Only when she braved making eye contact did the man respond. "I am a firm believer that you receive what you exert, Brynn. You do good, you will receive good. You do bad, you will be burdened with bad. Do you understand that?"
Brynn nodded.
"That woman wielded dreadful attitudes and actions, so she received a mild punishment from me. Do you understand that?" She nodded again. "And this," he squeezed her arm enough to make a point, not to hurt, "leads me to believe that her undoing is going to have to be a bigger burden than she could have made it."
Brynn didn't know what that meant. She didn't know if she wanted to know what that meant.
Diffidently, she nodded, finding it hard to look away when Zayne always held eye contact so intensely.
And for a split second, a horrible thought overshadowed her mind.
Was Milo a karma for her?
Without meaning to, water filled her eyes. Her bottom lip wavered as the events of the day came crashing down all in a second.
Zayne let her pull away and she reached for and held the door handle once again, waiting for Zayne to undo the child-lock because he had to at some point. Right?
The tell-tale sign of the child-lock being disengaged didn't ring out, however.
"The bad you have been burdened with, Brynn, has been tremendously unjust. An upcoming that you have never, do not, and will never deserve."
Brynn stared down at her shoes, startled, her fingers loosening around the handle.
"Do you understand that, little sister?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak or even so much as look up from her feet from where they rested beside her bag.
She loved him so much.
In due course, the sound of the child-lock being unlocked made its way to her ears and she swung the car door open, exiting just as the first tear fell down from her jaw.
She heard Zayne's car door open, but didn't look back, couldn't look back. And questions circled her mind in an all-too familiar way as they always did when she found a moment of silence.
Gosh, could she even ask him about the school trip she'd foolishly set her heart on already?
Mr Laurier had asked her specifically. It felt like an honour. Wouldn't that convince Zayne to even just read the permission slip at least?
The sound of Zayne's designer shoes pressing against the driveway grit ceased as did Brynn upon hearing it, one foot just grazing the top step, its descent still proceeding, but slow-going. Firmer-sounding footsteps ascended the stairs she had just practically ran up, with a lot more grace and composure.
When it sounded like he was only a mere two steps away, Brynn brought her other leg up and started walking for the front door to place more distance between them.
It was open. The front door always remained open after school because somebody always remained at home during this time and it was so, so elementary a task that Brynn physically cringed when both hands paused on both handles of the double door, yet made no move to twist them. She inhaled through her nose softly, squeezing the metal assiduously.
Zayne's footsteps weren't heard anymore, but he was there.
Exhaling in a faux-airily fashion, she slowly turned her head. From the large set of double doors, to the already pitch-black vastness that was the forest that surrounded the property, to Zayne, who simply stood a few feet away from her, tall, with a terribly inscrutable expression. One that Brynn knew was his analytic face from what felt like years of being under it.
She made eye contact with him and maintained it. And, inexplicably, she found her eyes narrowing into slits at her eldest brother, doing her utmost best to understand him, look into his own mind through his pupils.
Do you know what I'm thinking?
As expected, he didn't answer. He stayed as he was. Almost irritatingly blank to the point where Brynn has to release the handles and turn fully.
He was waiting for her to say something.
Even after fully turning, Brynn held the eye contact still, it only being broken by the occasional blink which she hadn't seen Zayne do yet.
The only thing to do with her hands was to ball them up at her sides, until she got fed up with the staring match that she would lose every time and unballed them.
Brynn liked to think she knew a lot about each one of her brothers. She knew that Zach's favourite show was in Dutch. And he liked it when she watched it too, so she did, even if she only understood a few words.
She knew that Ezra stayed almost as late as Zayne did at work, oftentimes. He liked Zayne's approval.
Brynn liked Zayne's approval too. She wondered if Ezra would ever believe her if she said that she was proud of him.
Probably not.
She knew that Brayden's favourite drink was a coca-cola, but he only let himself have one when he watched a movie. So Brynn liked to ask him to watch a movie at least once a week.
She knew that Callan tended to forcefully push his nails into his palms to create crescent shapes when he was agitated. Brynn usually spotted those after he finished work.
She had her own after school, most days. Sometimes, she liked to leave them in a place Callan could easily see them, to show him that he wasn't alone. But that usually ended in him fussing over them.
And if there was a single thing she knew about Zayne, it was that Zayne only proceeded in conversation when he understood the entire nature of it.
It was strategical. Careful.
Brynn often wondered whether that was apart of his job. What was his job?
"Is Mrs Gren really gone?"
She shifted in her spot, not entirely sure what response she wanted to that question, but she'd already turned around so she had to say something.
"I would not allow anything less."
Brynn swallowed. Zayne didn't sound like he was just talking about firing her.
---
Sitting on the counter of the small med-room, Brynn looked anywhere but where Callan was gently applying sudocrem onto the already-scabbed over crescent marks on her arm.
His brows were furrowed angrily and the frown hadn't left his face yet, even when Brynn had tried to ask how his day was.
She clenched her fist and unclenched it a moment after. "It doesn't hurt."
Callan paused applying the cream and focused that frown on her instead, eyebrows still creased and eyes fiery. Brynn clenched her fist again. "I think Zayne made her lose her job permanently."
The man's eyebrows weren't so tight anymore, softening slightly as he scanned over her face. He sighed, "there will be another meeting on Monday about it."
He went back to smothering excessive amounts of sudocrem on her wrist and it was Brynn's turn to furrow her eyebrows. "But... Zayne already had one today."
"And he is going to have another one on Monday, with me and more board members." Callan put the lid back onto the sudocrem tub and opened the cabinet behind him "And she will have more than her job on the line."
Brynn frowned, about to ask what he meant but the door opened quickly and heavy footsteps walked inside. Brynn shuffled on her bum away from the door, pausing when she saw it was Ezra.
He glared at the pair of them, then focused in on Brynn's sudocrem-coated arm. The latter practically threw her blazer sleeve back over to hide it, trying not to wince at the uncomfortable sensation of the sudocrem rubbing off on the soft fabric.
Ezra gripped the door frame tighter with both hands and his steely eyes looked back up to Brynn's face. "Brayden said you're watching a movie with him," he said, plainly; factually.
A crease formed momentarily between the girl's brows as she pursed her lips confusedly.
Callan was reading the back of the sudocrem tub, concentratedly and interrupted, "said or asked if Brynn would like to watch a movie with him?"
Brynn swung her legs back and forth subtly, looking between each of her brothers. Ezra scowled at Callan, " I paraphrased."
Callan tutted and placed the tub on the cabinet shelf, "Brynn, would you like to watch a movie with Brayden?"
She nodded, "yes, please", of course she would. Placing her hands on either side of her legs on the countertop, she pushed herself off, being stopped halfway by Callan's hands underneath her arms which made the landing softer and smoother. She smiled up at him, which he did back, and left, not believing that Ezra would want a smile.
Before she could leave, however, as she was passing underneath Ezra's arm, Ezra's hand came down from the doorframe and onto the top of her arm. She jumped and turned upwards fast, not expecting him to make a single move until she had left.
He gave a tightening squeeze and nodded backwards with his head, "get into your pyjamas first. Your uniform needs washing," he said gruffly.
Brynn looked down at her uniform and gulped, nodding. "Okay."
Immediately after speaking, Ezra let go of her arm, although it felt like his fingers lingered a bit longer, even as she walked away and into the main entryway.
She walked up the stairs, picking up her school bag which she had left at the bottom of it, and made her way to her bedroom to change into soft pyjamas and soft socks.
Lingering anxiety lingered from the day, swirling around the bottom of her stomach in perpetual waves, but she tried to shove those feelings away with her scrunched up uniform that now sat in the laundry basket.
On her way back to the staircase, she passed Zayne's office.
Per the norm, the entrance to it was sealed shut, the only indication that the office was even occupied was the thin stream of light creeping out of the bottom of the double doors.
Brynn slowed down to a stop, perhaps too suddenly because her sock-coated feet skid a tad, but she paid it no mind. She focused intently on the stream of light shining underneath the dark oak doors and then looked up towards the door handles and somehow focused more intently.
You could ask about the trip now.
She couldn't.
Zayne's office doors were tightly closed as they normally were, which meant that he was busy. He was working.
So Brynn turned back around to continue her route to the top of the staircase and when she got to the top of the staircase, she stopped, more steadily this time, again. Her hands rested on the banister, fingers tapping rhythmically against the hardwood as she juggled the endless swarm of thoughts that continually sprouted out.
He had to know at some point.
She had to tell him at some point.
He had to be given the letter if she wanted to go.
He only had to be given the letter though.
Brynn stopped tapping her fingers and turned back around in haste, half-walking, half-running back to her room to retrieve her backpack.
She opened it, moving half of her arm inside of it in order to find the letter she had bashfully shoved as far as she could inside. Once her fingertips grazed the paper, she pulled it out, unfolding it and doing her best to smooth the edges out.
With the permission letter in her possession, she went back to Zayne's office, a quarter-walking, three-quarters running.
After skidding to a stop, she waited for something and anything to maybe stop her, yet it remained silent. The light underneath the doors looked almost welcoming and she took a step closer, the paper clutched tightly in both hands.
So long as he had the letter, she told herself.
Deftly and silently, she kneeled down, placing the annoyingly crinkly paper on the smooth, polished floor and started pushing it forward, slowly and slowly underneath the narrow gap between the floor and bottom of the double doors until her fingertips were nearly on the other side. And she waited.
Until she could hear footsteps from the other side, presumably Zayne getting up from his desk, and she gasped, scurrying away to go actually go down the stairs this time.
She kept her left hand on her chest, not going into the living room straight away, but taking a moment to look up at the massive Christmas tree in the foyer.
She really hoped Zayne said yes.
Her hand kept rubbing back and forth over her chest, gradually slowing down whilst she gazed at the star at the very top of the tree.
She also hoped that her other brothers would finish practice soon and come home.
But she mainly hoped for Zayne to say yes to the trip at this moment.
After some time, her hand fell down to her side and she crossed one foot in front of the other, passing by the tree and also the living room to go to the kitchen for two coca-colas.
---
<3