Control was my friend and my enemy. I hated it for making me a coward and loved it for saving my mother and me from more pain.
My mother laid like a wounded animal on the floor when I opened the door. I hurried to her and smoothed her hair back. I slid my hands over her face as she cried and ran her fingers through my hair. “Oh, my little dreamer. All your dreams have been cut away.”
Yes, every strand of my hair held another dream, another identity, another hope. My mother taught me those sorts of things about our heritage behind closed doors when my father wasn’t around to listen. How the wind whispered to me to make me strong, how the water could wash away most anything, how my hair held a piece of me that connected me to every part of those before me, to her. A part of me I would never ever get back.
She cried for my loss.
I cried when I saw what he’d done to her ribs.
She cleaned up my hair that night as best she could.
I cleaned up her back and ribs.
Nights like those, we were the closest and furthest from each other. No other person in the world could know exactly what we were going through in those moments. We were also so lost in our own nightmares, we were too scared to speak them out loud to one another.
I always thought our bond was indestructible, a desolate pair who would always make it through the worst trauma together.
Chapter 2
Aubrey
Jay calledseveral times over the next week during our winter break from school, but I avoided him. I took care of my mother and kept an immaculate home instead. I didn’t give my father a thing to complain about over the rest of my vacation.
Sophomore Kill Day descended on me more quickly than I would have liked, especially when I had no interaction with Jay. I couldn’t be sure if he would walk me to school or if I would be on my own.
I put on makeup like it would help camouflage me. I wore the cutest skinny jeans I had and a dark flowy top to look nice, but not so showy as to call unwanted attention to myself. I pulled on some boots that would weather the snow and my puffy winter jacket. I’d mastered tying my hair in a bun that mirrored the same one I’d had before it was cut. I thought I looked good.
I could make it through the day as long as Jay helped me. When I left my house that morning, he stood at the end of my sidewalk, beaming.
He walked up like we’d been talking about this every day and swung an arm around my shoulder. Then he grabbed my backpack.
“I can carry my backpack, Jay.”
“Not if the water balloons start flying once we reach school grounds,” he said.
My eyes must have widened because I felt his chest shaking while he chuckled at me. I smacked his chest. “You’re a jerk.”
He squeezed my shoulder and reassured me. “No one’s going to bother you, Brey.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for walking with me.”
“Wouldn’t have walked with anyone else.”
“You sure?” I teased, skipping ahead to face him and catch him in his lie. “Melanie or Sophie didn’t want to walk with you? They weren’t mad?”
He looked just past my shoulder toward our school coming into view. “They’ll get over it.”
“Probably, but I’m guessing your walk to school could have been much more fun this morning.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
His eyes, such a lighter blue than Jax’s, danced with humor. Then, he dropped my bag and lunged for me. He grabbed me around the waist and knees, carrying me like a baby where he hovered right over a snow pile. I screeched, “Jay, you better not.”
“Say you enjoy walking to school with me just as much as I like walking to school with you. Or else.”
I batted at his arm and tried to hold back my laugh. “Are you kidding right now?”
His smile widened. “Say it, Sass Pot, or I’m dropping you.”
I laughed a little harder as he fake swung me toward the snow pile and screamed, “Fine. Fine! I love walking with you.”