Storming into my bedroom, I throw the door shut, almost hitting my dad with it because I didn't know that he was following me up the stairs.
He shoves the door out of his way, and I jump back with a gasp when its edge hits me in the face. I don't think he saw me in the shadows by the door. My curtains are still closed, and it is pretty dark right now here, in the corner between the bedroom and the bathroom doors.
It's nothing. I've had worse during my scuffle with Jet today. Still, the fact that it's my dad and that it's not an injury during rugby practice or a friendly brawl but happened in the middle of a fight that is becoming increasingly unbearable makes me feel the sharp stab of pain much more intensely.
"Ethan," my father continues his tirade when I step into view and try to put as much distance between us as possible. I'm glad to realise that he is unaware of hurting me. I spitefully wish he did notice because he would be crawling at my feet in repentance if he knew, but I don't think it would've given me much joy.
I just want him to go away now.
"It is not that I want to send you away, Son," he says, sounding tired. "I love you. Don't you know that?"
"Yeah, I know you love me," I grumble. "The same way I love Scamp but sure as hell wouldn't want to be in business with him because he'll just scratch up the furniture and eat the plans. I get it!"
"What?" He is now sounding half-amused and half-confused. He often sounds like that when he's dealing with me, but tonight, it's not fun at all. I'm not trying to mess with him this time.
"You don't think I'll be able to complete the degree," I finally spell it out for him, hating having to say the words out loud. "You think I'll be the final stab of death to your company... the one you always said was our company."
"Ethan, that is not it at all!" he exclaims. "I think you can do anything you set out to do. I just meant that you'll have options."
He crosses to my windows and studies the shadowy curtains while he runs his hands through his hair, showing how agitated he is.
"I didn't know what career I was going to enjoy when I was 18 years old," he says, turning to face me again. "I thought I was going to join the Navy! Plans change, and people change. I want you to have the best-"
"Options. Right! I heard you."
"Tomorrow," he says through clenched teeth. "I'm going to send your scholarship acceptance-"
"No! Dad!" He cannot do that to me! Can he?
"Ethan, I don't understand why you're so dead set against it! It's not like I'm sending you overseas! Or banning you from your home or Egret's Rest!"
"I don't understand why you're so desperate to send me away when Silverview has a really decent university," I groan. "I could just go to work for Corbin Construction if you don't want me at FG Construction. Would that make you happy?"
"You wouldn't do that! And that is exactly the problem! If I thought you would, I would at least have some hope for you here!" he shouts, breaking my heart. He wants me to work for our biggest competitor... for the enemy?! "Summerfields is a very small pond. If you can't find a decent job here and need to try other companies in other cities, a degree from Silverview will not weigh as much as one from Hummelton."
I don't want a decent job! I want to work with him!
"Because all those big, fancy companies are owned by old Hummelton students wanting other Hummelton students to crawl up their butts!" I growl.
"Ethan!" my father gasps at my crudeness, but I know when I'm right.
"It's true, and I don't want to crawl around in someone else's butt, Dad! I want to stay here... in my own butt!"
"What?" My dad's face looks like it is about to break. He is trapped between wanting to laugh at the nonsense that is just spilling from my mouth and bursting a vein in anger. It could go either way, and I am suddenly bone tired.
We've been having similar conversations over and over and over for weeks now. I never knew my dad had such lofty ambitions for me. He should have them for Deli instead, but she gets to do whatever she wants.
It's not because he doesn't care about her in the same way. If she were the one wanting to be in business with him, he would send her to the best university and guarantee her a spot by his side when she's done. He has that much faith in her...
He doesn't have that kind of faith in me. He thinks I should go away and play rugby, and when I cannot play anymore because the injuries accumulate, I should coach or star in a soap opera or something. He knows I don't love rugby enough to make it as a pro...
It has never been my dream.
"Ian," my mother appeared at the door at some point, and she is now stepping inside, coming over to clutch my father's arm. "Honey, the dishwasher is doing that thing again where the door won't close. Could you please take a look?"
"What?" my dad grumbles softly, turning to look at her. He knows, my mom knows, and I know that it's just because one of the drawers is not properly on its track. She could fix it herself, but any excuse to put an end to our discussion and leave us with a way out of the current fight without her making it worse by seeming to take sides will do right now.
I know that our fights drive her insane and break her heart. She sees both our points of view and partially agrees and disagrees with both of us. She is always insisting that we find a middle ground, but what middle ground could there possibly be, especially when my dad is hell-bent on getting me out of town and out of his business?
"Gemma..."
"Please?"
If there's one thing that can take the steam out of my dad's anger, it is my mom tilting her head and smiling at him the way she is smiling right now. She looks radiant and not at all as if her heart is breaking.
Perhaps my dad is as relieved by the interruption as I am because he gives me one last look, unreadable in the gloom, turns on his heels, and leaves my room. I don't resist when my mother wraps her arms around me and manoeuvres me to the bed, pushing me to sit on its edge.
"Honey, you're wrong," she says, sitting down beside me and running a hand over my hair. "Your father doesn't think you're a liability or whatever it is you got into that busy head of yours. He would love nothing more than to fulfil the dream of the two of you working together and-"
"Then why is he so adamant about me working for anybody but him?"
I know my mom is trying to be fair, but I also know that she loves my dad and will never openly go against him, even when she doesn't fully agree with him.
"He even said it would be fine if I joined Corbin Construction rather than his company. Corbin Construction, Mom! They're sly devils, and he hates them!"
"He wouldn't be fine with that, Ethan," she sighs, looking into my eyes with an honesty I can always count on when I need help. "He is just afraid of your future being ruined if you join him."
"Don't I have a say in my future?"
"Of course you do, Honey!" she smiles. "Think about it like this. He said you have about four years before you'll need to join a company, right? Even more years if you're planning on doing your master's too. Don't you think that FG Construction will be going strong again by then? Your father has done miracles to restore his reputation in a very short time; he is getting there slowly but surely."
I've been trying to tell him that over and over, but he doesn't seem to think so. Together, we could make his company great again—I know we could—if only he would give me a chance!
"Well, then I could just stay here and-"
"Ethe, why is it so hard for you to even consider going to Hummelton?" my mom asks, and suddenly, I'm afraid that she wants to be rid of me too. She must be really sick of all the fights. Perhaps she thinks it will be easier on everybody if I were gone. "It is a very good university and only three hours away; you could be home every weekend and-"
"I'll be on a rugby scholarship, Mom," I remind her, swallowing against the knot in my throat. "I'll be playing and practising weekends and most holidays; I'll hardly be able to come home."
"That..." she swallows, turning her head to look at my closet doors, and I'm glad that her face is buried in dusky shadows because I cannot stand seeing her so sad. Perhaps she hates the idea of me leaving as much as I hate it after all. "Many people go abroad for studies... and even they get time to visit their parents," she mutters. "It's a couple of years. Your dad will change his mind about the company, and you'll be back before you know it. If you still want to, you could stay for good then."
"Change his mind?" I scoff, grinning at my mother when she looks at me again. "Mom, when has Ian Fletcher ever changed his mind about anything? He's as stubborn as a... as a... as a... me."
There, I might as well admit it.
"When I change it for him," she smiles, stroking a hand over my cheek. I hold my breath not to flinch when her fingers move over the sensitive area where the door hit me. The last thing I need right now is for her to see any mark there that wasn't there during dinner. She has enough to feel sad about. "Besides, your father doesn't want you to leave..."
What?! Then why did we have that huge shouting match just now?!
"You heard him!" I exclaim, wondering if she has lost her mind. "He is sending the confirmation of acceptance tomorrow."
"Oh, yes, he said that, but he wouldn't really do that," she says, waving my words away with her hand. "The two of you will be fighting this same fight tomorrow and all the days after that until you reach the deadline."
"Then what?"
"I'll bury you both in the backyard and whittle wooden figurines while I watch the tree I planted on you grow."
"Wow!" I chuckle. "That got dark really fast! You don't even do woodwork."
"I'm always willing to try new hobbies." She lays her head against my shoulder, stroking my upper arm with her hand. "Your father will miss you too much when you're gone. I'm willing to bet that he'll try to convince you to transfer to Silverview shortly after you've left. "
I highly doubt that.
"Out of sight, out of mind," I assure her, and she gently slaps my arm and sits up straight again.
"I can guarantee you that with your father, it would very much be a case of 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'," she assures me, tilting her head and giving me a sly smile. "That goes for Kira too... in case you're wondering."
I flinch hearing Kira's name, and my mother takes my hands in hers. Yes, I was wondering...
"Honey, I know how attached you are to Egret's Rest, and I understand it. This place is hot as hell, but it is beautiful and filled with warm people, and not just because they get way too much sun. I love it here too, but I got to see many other places during my life. It is not healthy to be so attached to this one spot on Earth already..." She sighs, trailing off, realising who she's speaking to. "It is about the Crofts, isn't it?" she smiles, and I cannot, in all honesty, say no to that.
"Yes, but it's also about you and Deli and Aunt Alice and... everything... I love this place, Mom. I don't ever want to leave... I don't want things to change..."
"Oh, I know, Honey," she soothes. "The end of this year is the end of an era. I know it is scary, but it is also filled with promise. Don't be too shut off to the idea of broadening your horizons a bit. Every new adventure out there beyond the county borders will enrich you with knowledge and experiences to bring back home with you."
Long after my mother has left my room I'm still just sitting on the edge of my bed in the ever-growing darkness. Feeling defeated, I rise and go into my bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.
On my return, I open my curtains, desperate for some fresh air to flow in through the open window. There isn't much moonlight spilling into my room tonight; it's as dark outside as it is inside. The heaviness I usually manage to drive away with music or a chat with one of my friends is not letting up enough for me to reach out to any of them—not even to Burlap.
It's getting late. Kira's window is already dark, and looking at it - black and lifeless - my heart jerks almost painfully in my chest. How am I supposed to go away for three years or more and not be able to look out my window to see her house? How am I supposed to leave the town I know better than the back of my hand? My home! The place where I belong.
Not everybody needs to travel to feel whole or to gain experience. Some people—like me—are content with where they are. I love Egret's Rest. I love Summerfields and all the towns in it, even Silverview!
In a sudden, desperate surge of energy, I climb out my window and make my way to the ground, where I hurry into the Crofts' yard. They have a house key stashed in the hollow of a decorative rock in the flowerbed near the kitchen door. It would take me only a few seconds to get it and open the door, but I don't go around to the kitchen; instead, I head directly to Kira's wall and climb up to her window.
It's becoming pretty easy to do that now, but getting the damned window open is tougher than I thought it would be since I can only use one hand at a time to try and slide the heavy frame up. I finally manage to get it to budge while I'm struggling to keep my grasp on the window sill and not fall from the wall like a zapped bug.
Landing won't be pleasant.
"Ethy, why don't you use the kitchen door?" Kira gasps, jumping from her bed and hurrying over to help me get the window all the way up so I can climb inside.
I'm so glad she's awake!
She doesn't ask me why I'm here. She's used to me sleeping at their place occasionally. I cannot explain why I do it. Sometimes, I just need to be in their house. I don't come here at night, only when I feel sad or have a fight with my dad.
I simply like being here.
When I'm not feeling like myself, this place gets my head straight pretty quickly. Sometimes, when Uncle Joe is still awake, he talks to me, and that always helps. I wish I could talk to my dad the way I'm able to speak to Uncle Joe. He hears me... and I guess I hear him too. He never gets angry, not even when he really should. I don't think he knows how that emotion is supposed to work.
"What would be the fun in that?" I grin, happy to see Kira standing here in front of me in her cute cartoon caterpillar PJs, close enough to touch. It would've been really sad if she was already fast asleep now and I couldn't talk to her. "I kinda like climbing this wall now."
"You are such a weirdo," she groans, and the pretty legs sticking out from under her sleep shorts carry her away from me. I watch her get back into her bed, adjusting the thin duvet over her body. The guest room is always made up, and usually, when I sneak into their house, I sleep in there, but that's not what I need right now. I need to be near Kira, even if it's just for a minute.
Not stopping to think about it, I hurry after her and, scooting her over, I climb into her bed beside her. I immediately start to feel better when her fragrance hits me, together with the warmth of her skin, when my arm brushes against hers, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps.
"What are you doing?" she squeaks, and I really hope she's not going to send me away.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"We don't have that kind of relationship, Ethan," she says, sounding a little breathless. She's not kicking me out of her bed yet... that's a good start. "I already told you that I cannot be that girl for you."
What girl? Oh! Right!
"The girl who looks into my ridiculous eyes, and then all her clothes fall off?" I chuckle, really liking the idea, though I've never experienced it. I am completely open to trying any new experiments she might have in mind.
"So, you do remember," she says, inching away from me.
"Yeah," I grunt, feeling a bit frustrated now. "And do you remember that I told you that I'm not expecting you to be?"
"Yes, so, what are you doing now?"
"I just wanna sleep, Kicks," I try to explain truthfully. I really don't want to go into details about why I need to be here with her right now.
"In my bed?"
"Yes."
"With me still in it?"
"Yes," I laugh because she's so cute when she's all flustered like this.
"Not in the bed in the spare bedroom?"
"No, you're not in the bed in the spare bedroom," I remind her because she's apparently still not getting it.
"Ethy, this is not a good idea..." she whispers, sounding nervous and now I'm wondering just how threatening I appear to be. She knows I would never do anything she doesn't want me to do. Does her discomfort mean that she wants me to do things she probably shouldn't want? Well, it doesn't really matter. I'm sad and tired, and I just need to have her near me, that's all.
"I just want to hold your hand for a bit," I say, my voice sounding dull and a little hoarse to my own ears. I catch my breath in surprise when Kira suddenly rises and leans over me to grab her moon lamp off the nightstand on my side of the bed.
"Hey, I seriously just want to sleep holding your hand, but I'm game for whatever it is you're planning now," I grin, wrapping my arms around her.
Whooah! This was a mistake! I was just teasing her, but it feels really good to have her lying half on top of me like this. I'm not sure I'll be able to let her go again if she doesn't move away by herself.
"Shut up," she scoffs, pushing herself out of my arms. I reluctantly let her go, relief and regret fighting for dominance in my stuttering heart. She turns on the moon and slaps it until she reaches the light blueish colour she likes because it gives her enough light without the glare, and now I know what she's doing.
"Don't," I grumble, trying to turn away from her, but she's once again resting on my chest, pushing down on my shoulder, keeping me in place. It's working because I can hardly think with her this close to me, and I would probably have to be a little rough with her to get her off me.
I don't want her to get off me.
"Did he hit you?!" she exclaims in shock, and I'm not sure what she's seeing on my face. It wasn't a hard blow; surely there are no serious marks on my cheekbone, though it throbs a little.
"No," I assure her, pushing the moon out of my face. I'm surprised that she would even think that it is a possibility. My dad sometimes throws pillows and balls at me, but he would never actually hurt me. "We had an argument in the kitchen, and I had enough of it, so I ran to my room and was closing my door. I didn't realise that he'd followed me, and he shoved the door open, not knowing that I was standing right there. Its edge caught me in the cheek.
"Really?"
"Really, I don't even think he noticed." I know Kicks is sensitive and that my fights with my dad might sound worse to her than they really are if she hears them, but it's still unsettling that she sounds so doubtful of my explanation. I take the moon from her to stop her careful inspection of what cannot be more than a scrape. "Please don't tell him. He'll feel awful."
I turn off the lamp and put it back on its stand, nearly dying of fright and joy when I'm lying down again, and Kira suddenly touches her lips to my hurt cheekbone. It's like being tickled by butterflies, her breath gently shivering over my skin.
This is cruel and unusual punishment, and I never want it to end!
"Okay," she whispers, depressing me by sliding off my chest and moving so far away from me that I think she's about to fall off the other side of the bed. "You can sleep here, but no funny business... and keep to your side of the bed."
I'm relieved when she reaches out and weaves the fingers of her right hand with those of my left hand. Now we're lying side by side on our backs like a newlywed couple in an old cowboy movie. All we need is a pair of long flannel nightgowns. It's nice, but not really comfortable.
"We can spoon," I offer, always an optimist.
"No!" she says, turning on her side to face me just when I turn to face her. This is the closest I've been to Heaven so far, lying here in Kira's bed, gazing into her eyes while holding her hand. If I died right now, I would die happy. I wish there were a little more light so I could see her properly. Her face is in shadow, her eyes gleaming slightly where their moist surfaces reflect the scant light.
I can feel her minty breath on my skin, and bit by bit, the anxiety and tension start to drain away, leaving me feeling peaceful and sleepy.
"Okay," she grunts after a couple of minutes. "This is not weird at all."
Chuckling, I run the tips of my fingers through her hair and gently stroke the side of her face, pleased to feel tiny goosebumps forming on her skin. She is definitely not unaffected by my touch. That is probably good news.
"It's really not," I remind her. "We've done this before... many times."
I'm sure she remembers at least a few of the moments I've been here in her bed with her or she's been with me in mine. Usually, Deli is in bed with us and we're trying to comfort Kira and help her forget about the wild storm howling outside.
Kicks has been terrified of storms since her mother died ten years ago, trying to reach her car during a storm and getting struck by lightning. It was a horrible time for all of us, but especially for Kira and her dad. My parents took care of Uncle Joe, trying to coax him back to life, while Deli and I did the same for Kira.
We spent so much time in this bed, talking to her, crying with her, cuddling her. I brought all kinds of yummy treats and fed them to her, and, for a change, nobody cared about crumbs in the bed. I won't call the memories fun, but they are precious to me. I'm sure she remembers some of them.
Just when it began to seem as though the Crofts were never going to stop crying and find a way to live again, they started to find their way out of despair. I think going through that hell with them is what forged the strong bond between our two families.
Deli and I still rush over here if there's a storm and Uncle Joe is at the office or Kicks comes to our house to hide from it there. There's no storm now, and we're not little kids anymore, and for once, I'm the one finding comfort and peace from turmoil in her bed.
I close my eyes, savouring the feel of her fingers twining with mine and listening to her gentle breathing. This is just what I needed.
When I open my eyes again, I have some kind of fur in my mouth, and the sun is painting the room in bright orange, yellow, and green. It takes me a while to remember that I'm in Kira's bed. The fact that I can hear the phone alarm going off in my bedroom far, far away is my first clue. Having a gigantic bear wrapped around me is an even better clue.
Mr. Big Bear!
At some point in the night, the bear my dad gave Kira to help comfort her after her mother's death snuck from his footstool in the corner of her room to force himself between us. Trust my dad to find a way to remotely chaperone when I was just trying to find some comfort with my girlfriend.
Kira has always loved this bear. At first, it was a little bigger than her—actually, I think it still is. It's a comfy bear to cuddle, and I have, at times, been a bit jealous watching her snuggle into it. Why on Earth did she put the bear between us?
I was sleeping! That's all!
Did I molest her in my sleep? Surely not! Besides, Deli and Burlap... actually, all my friends have told me that the best way to get me to sleep quietly when I have to share a bed with them is just to let me cuddle them.
Burlap said he felt a bit traumatized and violated the first time, but he's used to it now. Kira could get used to it too. She might even enjoy it if she would give it a try. I sure will enjoy it and I'm selflessly willing to help her with that training.
Groaning softly, I untangle myself from the bear, surprised when I sit up to find Kira cuddling it from the other side. I watch her for a minute, knowing I'm probably being creepy, but she looks so sweet and innocent right now.
I want to build a wall around her.
Finally, accepting the fact that I need to go home, have my breakfast and get ready for school, or I'll be late for rugby practice, I roll over the bear to kiss Kira's flushed cheek. She sighs softly and for a moment, I think I woke her up, but her eyes remain closed, a sweet smile tugging at her lips.
"I love you," she whispers, snuggling deeper into the bear's embrace and once again, I find myself jealous of the stuffed animal.
I know she's not speaking to me, but...
"I love you too, Kicks."
♂♀