Page 36 of Incompatible

"I was a kid back then, but I liked him. He played the violin beautifully. I used to sing for him, and he called me his red-haired angel. Only the two of us in the family had that hair. Some kind of ginger kinship or something."

I giggle and shrug.

"Well, that could be a good lead," Alex says, pointing at the screen. "I added red highlights on the angel."

Now the logo actually looks really cool. My drawing suddenly has depth and sharpness, and the red streaks give it a vivid, feral vibe.

"It looks awesome! Thank you, Alex."

Alex grins and uploads the file, and I, again, secretly admire him while he’s focused on the screen with that cute little frown, doing my best to make sure he doesn’t notice. It’s kinda my secret passion.

Alex’s visits are never boring.

The next day he talks me into trying chess, even though he’s obviously an unbeatable master. But since I’m not much of a challenge, we invite my brothers.

Rain and Skye give it a try, but of course they fail miserably. Snow refuses to play at all. I tell myself that when Winter comeshome from college in the middle of the semester, I’m totally setting Alex on him.

In the meantime, I have even more spontaneously occurring opportunities to follow my secret passion of staring at him. Gosh, how I love watching Alex play chess! His focused, sweet frown is so adorable, the way he slides a slender finger along his chin, and sometimes he even puffs out his lips and taps them lightly with his fingertip. At the same time, every move he makes on the chessboard is deadly precise, and there’s no chance any of us could ever defeat him.

By the next week I start feeling better. I even write two new songs and, thankfully, none of my fingers are broken, so I can start playing guitar again, though I cannot sit for too long because my head begins to ache.

Around that time my parents tell me the Hansons have been caught and are being held in custody, and since everyone who beat me is eighteen or older, the charges against them carry real weight.

Prosecutor Strada, because of Alex’s involvement, cannot be the one to prosecute them, but he handled all the formalities and cooperated with the assigned prosecutor.

Alex also tells me that since the arrests, Vin and Rob are even more cautious, avoiding him entirely and pretending they have nothing to do with anything, although they seem to be in suspiciously good spirits. Which is ironic, considering they clearly know everything since Kit is Rob’s brother and Matt is Vin’s. It feels disturbingly psychopathic that they do not seem to care that their own brothers will face consequences for what happened, that they sent them after me and thought… what? That nothing would come of it? Oh, well. Strange.

All of this comes with complications, of course. I am forced to give a statement, and so is Alex, and we both have to appear and testify in court.

That is when we get a chance to see many members of the Hanson clan. Even the patriarch of that entire family sits in the section for relatives.

Eugene Hanson, a massive purple alpha. He is around sixty but still looks strong, with long hair so gray it is almost white, narrow eyes and thick brows, giving him a Neanderthalish look. He’s something like a shady businessman. He owns a number of businesses, and he made his money when he was young as an underground cage fighter. He stares at us throughout the hearing, sending a chill down my spine. He does not look like the kind of man who forgives easily.

Three weeks later, once I have finished recovering, I return to school despite the plum-colored and sulfur-yellow bruises still blooming across my face, which I wear with a kind of careless pride.

The other students stare at me with curiosity but mostly stay away, as if they are afraid my madness is contagious. Everyone believes provoking the Hansons is the dumbest thing a person can do, so Alex and I end up thoroughly isolated from the rest of our peers, who steer clear of us at all costs.

Eventually both my parents and Alex’s parents decide to transfer us to a different class group where we will not cross paths with either Rob or Vin.

The school, which Prosecutor Strada accused of neglecting student safety, also agrees to establish additional security to ensure no unauthorized individuals enter the building.

Apparently that group of four got in by slipping through a cracked window in a first-floor classroom and exploiting a blind spot in the cameras.

Finally, a month and a half later, the verdict is announced.

It is not particularly satisfying. Kit, the one who held me down, receives only a year in prison, with six months suspended, and Matt receives three years with one and a half suspended.The other two, who stood by passively and watched, and one of whom held Alex, get only a few months, most of it suspended.

The bad news is that both Matt and Kit had no prior convictions, so this is treated as their first offense, which means their sentences are lower than they would have been if they were repeat offenders.

While I am in court, I get to see that the Hanson clan is enormous and also pretty tight-knit, gathered around Eugene like obedient dogs. It looks like they all came. A whole crowd fills the courtroom, glaring at us with openly hostile eyes.

My parents decide at that point to hire security for our home, a local protection service that installs cameras and motion sensors along the fence. Even though our house is pretty far from my high school and from the part of town where the Hansons live, my parents prefer to be cautious.

Only then do I realize this whole situation is not trivial at all, because crossing an entire clan can lead to genuinely dangerous consequences, and unfortunately those consequences do not concern only me, which worries me even more. I sometimes notice a flicker of unease in my dad’s eyes, and from then on I am always driven to school by my father and my dad, who go together.

They also arrange with Alex’s dad that he will be picked up on the way, and he is taken to and from school by my parents, just to keep him safe.

In a way it is actually good for me, because it means I get to spend even more time with Alex, and I will not pretend otherwise, those are the only pleasant moments I have throughout the day—the hours when I am close to him. As I slowly become addicted to it, my journal fills with entries like: