It was dark now, and Bruce drove the streets slowly, waiting for Aaron to decide what to do. Aaron stared out of the window, his body pressed against the door as far from me as he could get.
"Stop," Aaron said, straightening up in his seat. "There."
"Aaron," Bruce grumbled.
"Oh, did I stutter, Brucie? Let me repeat that for you loud and clear: Stop. The. Car." Aaron said.
Bruce guided the car over to the side of the road and killed the engine, cutting out the lights. Aaron pushed the door open and got out.
I copied him, realizing that we were at a house. It was surrounded by a locked gate, and the lights inside were all off.
"Whose house is this?" I asked, wondering if Aaron even knew.
"Patrick Henderson," Aaron said, hauling himself up and over the gate with ease. "Not a fan of the guy. Let's piss him off a bit, shall we?"
Vic leaned against the car to act as lookout. Bruce started to move forward, but Aaron but a hand out to stop him.
"Brucie, I didn't invite you along," he said. "See, you pissed me off at the gas station."
"Quit being a baby." Bruce pulled himself up and over the gate.
I gripped the gate and hauled myself over it, dropping back down to the ground on the other side. Aaron was surveying the yard and he strode forward towards the garage.
"Don't go breaking into the damn house. Kaz is too slow to get away," Bruce said impatiently.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said, though I knew he was probably right. Sneaking around certainly wasn't my specialty, and if anyone heard us and came to check, I would hesitate too long to get away.
"Don't tell me what to do," Aaron said, kneeling in front of a door that lead into the garage. He reached out, hands playing with the door handle.
It was a moment before I heard the soft click. Aaron stood up and pushed the door open, walking into the garage.
"That's his car," Aaron said happily, one of his knives suddenly in his hands.
Bruce was waiting in the doorway so he could keep Vic in sight. He looked irritated, but didn't bother trying to talk Aaron down from whatever his plan was.
"Kaz," Aaron said, gripping my hair and yanking me forward with more force than usual. I winced, but that only made Aaron smile. "I'm going to wreck Patrick's car. You're going to find his lacrosse stick."
He released my hair and spun around, slashing one of the tires on the car. I mentally prayed that the car alarm wouldn't go off and took off in search of a lacrosse stick.
I found it leaning on the far wall of the garage, next to a sports bag. I picked the lacrosse stick up and carried it over to Aaron, who had slashed both front tires and one of the back tires.
"Here," I said, holding it out to him.
Aaron met my eyes. "Break it in half."
I looked down at it. It looked expensive, well-used but well cared for. I looked back up at Aaron, my grip on the lacrosse stick tightening. Regardless of whatever had shaken him during our moment in the car, now was not the time to let him gain another step over me.
"No," I said.
His lips twitched. "Are you refusing me, Kaz?"
"I am," I said, still holding the lacrosse stick out to him. "He's never done anything to me. I'm not breaking it."
Aaron reached out and snatched it from my hands. He tested it in his hands before swinging it around and catching my ankles.
I fell backwards, my ankles stinging in pain. Aaron towered over me, the lacrosse stick slung lazily over his shoulder.
"You're all pissing me off tonight," he said.
He knelt down, setting the lacrosse stick on the ground in front of me. "Put your foot on it."
I put my foot on it, more to test my ankle. Probably bruised, but that would be the extent of the damage.
Aaron stood up and put his foot on the lacrosse stick. Then he gave a hard yank, so hard that it nearly knocked my foot off. The stick cracked, splitting open near the center. Aaron flicked his knife out and sliced through the netting on it, a clear cut down the center.
I pulled my foot off the lacrosse stick and Aaron tossed it aside. I got to my feet and he moved towards the car again.
"There, you helped me break it," he said, circling the car slowly, like a hungry predator.
I looked at the lacrosse stick and shook the guilt from myself. He hadn't given me a choice. If I'd had a choice, I wouldn't have helped.
"Aaron, you're going to set off the car alarm," Bruce snapped.
Aaron ignored him and dug his knife into the side of the car, dragging it across. The car came to life, alarm blaring.
Bruce cursed loudly and made a gesture to Vic. My heart was beating just as loud as the alarm.
Aaron walked over and grabbed Bruce, throwing him up against the wall. Bruce hit the wall and knocked several things over as he fell to the ground, glaring up at Aaron.
"What the fuck!" he cried.
Aaron knelt down, getting eye level with his brother. "I told you that you pissed me off, Brucie. Be dad's little bitch all you want, but don't get in the way of what I want."
He straightened up and left the garage. I hurried after him and the two of us jogged towards the car.
Bruce came out a moment later, running to catch up with us. The three of us hopped the gate and threw ourselves in the car. Vic took off down the street and didn't stop until we were three blocks over.
"You think you won't get caught if you leave me behind?" Bruce demanded, rounding on Aaron. We were all crushed together in the back seat.
Aaron met Bruce's eyes with that dead expression he'd given his father yesterday. "You think I care if I get caught?"
I stared at him, wondering how anyone could become so helplessly lifeless inside. Bruce was shaking with anger, but even he back down from that emotionless expression on Aaron's face.
The most terrifying thing about Aaron wasn't his wild laughter or his sharp grins or the slender fingers twitching to grab a throat. It was that dead expression. That dead expression was the real Aaron, not the dangerously giddy façade he favored.
The distant sound of police sirens broke through the tense silence. Vic waited until Bruce had climbed into the front seat before driving again.
"Go faster," Aaron commanded.
"I'm not trying to get pulled over," Vic said.
"You didn't buy me more cigarettes," Aaron said, placing his hand on the seat dangerously close to Vic's neck. "Go faster."
Vic turned down a quiet street and pressed on the gas. The car picked up speed and Aaron rolled the window down, sticking his head out.
He let out a wild yell, carried away by the wind blasting by. I watched as he pulled his shoulders back with the force of his scream, his neck straining.
He leaned so far out the window that I temporarily worried he might actually fall right out. But even with his body half out and his hands making no move to keep him steady, he didn't fall.
When he had finished yelling, he pulled himself back into the car, face red from the wind and the release. His chest rose and fell as he tried to get his breath back.
"Let us out," he said.
Vic slowed the car. He hadn't quite stopped it before Aaron threw the door open and jumped out, catching his balance. He waited with crossed arms until I had gotten out of the car.
"Get the fuck out of my sight before I strangle the life out of either of you," Aaron said, kicking the door shut.
The car disappeared down the road, leaving Aaron and I alone on the road. Aaron face me with those lit up eyes of his, his face still red from his yelling.
"It's humid," he said, starting off down the road.
I followed after him. "I'm lazy, so I hope you don't plan on walking around too much."
Aaron pointed at the sky, where the stars were faintly glowing against the darkness. "Look at that. You're insignificant under it all, Kaz."
"No one is insignificant," I said, fully believing that. Everyone made an impact, no matter how small it was.
Aaron slung his arm around my shoulders, tightening it around my throat just enough to warn me. "I really hate the way you think." He reached up and tapped his finger against my temple. "I want to shatter that optimistic little mind of yours and stuff some reality into your thick skull."
"But you and I, we're significant," I said. "If a car came along and hit us right now, if we died right here, do you think our families would ever be the same?"
"I'm sure mine would get back to normal when they were done celebrating," Aaron said, dropping his arm from me. "You think yours would care that much? They got back to normal after your dad bit it. David isn't even your family. Stop holding yourself so high."
"He's as much my dad as my biological father was," I said. "But that's not my point. You know it, Aaron. You know they'd miss you."
"All my mom misses are her pills and all my dad misses is the freedom of no shitty wife and kids," Aaron said. He reached out, clamping a hand on the back of my neck, shoving my head down. "Listen to me," he said, voice too excited. "Listen, Kaz. We are worthless. We are pointless. We will live and we will die and no one will remember us. Don't forget that."
He released my neck and I straightened up. He led me off the road into a quiet neighborhood.
We crept around back and hopped three fences before Aaron stopped. The house in front of us had the blinds drawn and sat in silent darkness.
Aaron went over to the pool in the yard and I followed him. He stared down at the water, but didn't make a move.
"Aaron," I said, because it had been driving me crazy and I had to know.
He looked up at me, pale blond hair swinging as a breeze caught it. His eyes were sharp, a boy smart enough to know he was alive but too full of hatred to focus on anything other than death.
"Patrick plays lacrosse," I said.
"You're connecting dots where there are none," he said.
"You played lacrosse," I continued, speaking slow and carefully watching his body language. How far could I push him in one night? "That wasn't a whim. It was revenge."
Aaron shoved me into the pool so fast I didn't have a chance to jump away from him. Damn, my reactions were so slow sometimes.
I fell under the water and struggled against the weight of my clothes and shoes to resurface. As soon as my head broke the water, Aaron caught a fistful of it in his hands and brought my face close to his, splashing himself with little water droplets as he did so.
His smile was razor sharp but his eyes were alarmingly empty. "I was 8 years old and he called me a monster and beat me with his lacrosse stick. So I took it from him, and I hit him with it so hard it almost broke his arms, and then I snapped the damn stick in half. And thus, the tragic end of my lacrosse career. Kicked off before the broken pieces ever hit the ground."
He shoved my head under the water and immediately pulled it back up. I spit out water and looked back up at him, my hands gripping the edge in case he decided to push me back under.
"You think too much. I really hate that, Kaz. I really hate you," he said, releasing my hair.
He jumped into the water next to me, shoving his wet hair out of his eyes as he broke the surface. That giddy excitement had filled the empty void in his eyes.
He hated me because I could see through him. He was so used to wearing his anger and violence like a shield that he didn't know what to do when someone saw the raw truth of his trauma.
The two of us silently began racing back and forth in the pool, slowed by the weight of our clothing. My thoughts were screaming through my mind.
No one wanted to talk about what had been done to Aaron. They only wanted to talk about what Aaron had done to others.
But how was Aaron supposed to comprehend what had happened to him if no one was willing to acknowledge it? It made me furious. All these awful things in the world, and people didn't talk about them, didn't acknowledge them. Silence only hurt those suffering and empowered the causes of that suffering.
Aaron pulled himself out of the pool nearly an hour later. I climbed out after him and tried to wring my clothes out.
The two of us walked, shivering in the cold night air. Aaron led me back to his house, where the car was parked.
We went inside and Brett jumped up from where he had been sitting. He narrowed his eyes at Aaron.
"Where the hell were you? Why are you wet?" he demanded.
"We went for a pleasant night swim," Aaron said, shoving his father back down. "Don't take the pleasant part out of my night, dad."
Brett stood up, towering over Aaron. He grabbed the back of Aaron's neck and shoved his head down, bending so he was eye level with Aaron.
"Aaron Joshua Kizziar, I am your father. You don't shove me!" he boomed. "I don't want you wandering around at night doing god knows what. Either you're with your brother, or you're home. Got it, Aaron?"
"Let me go," Aaron said, voice deadly calm.
"Are you listening to me?" Brett said, shoving his head down harder. "I will not have you wandering around getting into trouble. Now tell me you hear me loud and clear."
Aaron grabbed his father's wrist with a force that surprised Brett. He yanked Brett's hand away, crushing it between his fingers, his eyes blazing.
"When I tell you to let me go, you let me go," Aaron said.
He released Brett's hand and left the room without another word. Brett stared after him, at a loss for words.
"What the hell?" he finally managed, looking to me. "Did...Did something happen?"
"That's what I'm wondering," I said, leaving the room to follow Aaron. I had nothing to comfort his father with. Brett had a desperate hope that Aaron could be a normal boy one day. I didn't have that fantasy; I just wanted to help Aaron be better. He would never fully recover, and I was well aware of that. But he deserved a chance.
Aaron was in his room, sitting on his bed in his still-wet clothes. He watched me enter and pointed at the floor.
"You sleep there. If you move so much as an inch in the night, I will throw you out of the window," he said, lying back on his mattress.
I laid down on the floor, shivering in my wet clothes. I made myself as comfortable as I possibly could, taking my phone out, beyond relieved that I had a waterproof case on it.
I texted Lily, asking her to bring me a change of clothes to school tomorrow. I locked my phone and laid as still as I could.
Aaron had his back pressed to the wall, his body facing out towards the rest of his room. His eyes were closed, but his breathing gave away that he was still awake.
I'd probably have a sleepless night, though something told me Aaron had a lot of those. I closed my eyes, hoping I could at least catch an hour or two of sleep. Man, I really hope the wet clothes didn't end up giving me a cold.
Still, tonight was the beginning, I could feel it. I'd stripped away the first layer of Aaron Kizziar. Slow and steady, I'd get to the core of him, and I'd show him that I was someone who would never abandon him.