Page 21

W hy did I have to wake up at all today? Why couldn’t I have just slept through the entire thing?

There’s a brief moment, a split second in time, when you wake up and your mind is empty. There’s no pain, or grief, or sadness. It’s not something you notice when you have nothing to fear. You simply wake up and move on with your day.

But when agony waits for you on the cusp of your first conscious breath, it’s one of the worst phenomena. Because for that small moment, you just exist peacefully … and then suddenly, everything hits you at once, like a cannonball through the chest.

That’s what this morning felt like, but worse … because when I first woke up, I thought of Alora.

The surge of self-hatred that came next was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The first thought in my mind, especially today, should have been of Micah.

He would have been fifteen years old.

Birthdays in general were never really something we celebrated—at least not loudly. I would always find a way to hide a present for him or scrounge a few dollars here and there to get him a small cake or cupcake.

My uncle told us that we had to earn our birthdays, and to no one’s surprise, we never did. We were naughty and big disappointments. He never let us forget it.

But no matter how many times he told Micah he was worthless, I would tell him how special he was twice as many. I refused to let Micah ever believe a word out of our uncle’s mouth. I like to think that I succeeded in the end.

I wish I could visit him today in some way, shape, or form. Maybe that’s what makes all of this so much harder. He’s imprisoned somewhere, wherever my uncle is hiding him.

All I have are a few pictures of him that I managed to steal from the house before I ran, along with his butterflies. He would’ve wanted me to keep them safe, and I always will.

Below the tattooed word Villain , I rub over the black-and-white tattoo centered on my chest—a Siproeta stelenes , also known as a malachite butterfly, his favorite one. He used to say that he loved this one because of the green-and-black coloration and because the name reminded him of me.

The backs of my eyes burn as tears form.

“Fuck!” I shout.

My fists need to hit something, to punch this blood-boiling rage out of my system.

None of this would be happening if I hadn’t made Micah join me for a walk that night. I just wanted him to get some fresh air and ice cream. I just wanted him to get out of that damn house and away from our uncle.

Tears roll down my lashes and fall, plummeting toward the ground.

How can I face Alora today? How can I look at her and not think of the person responsible?

I know it’s not her; I know my hatred lies somewhere else. But I also know she’s connected to him whether I like it or not. I’ve treated her terribly over the years, and I don’t want to do it again.

Sometimes, my mouth gets in the way, my words lashing out and whipping toward people who aren’t deserving of the wrath. It’s always been my downfall, but it’s also been my shield.

If the rest of the world fears me, they won’t dare get close to me. They won’t get under my skin and sink their hooks in. They’ll never make it past the fortress I’ve spent years building.

I think avoiding Alora today would be the best thing for both of us. Besides, I need to spend time with the butterflies today, brush up on the species he had and the new ones I’ve added to his collection.

A thorn stabs into my heart as I remember the horrible things I once said to Micah about his love for these tiny creatures. Things that I can never take back.

But I can learn—for him. I can keep his collection going for the rest of my life.

Honestly, the more I read or hear about butterflies, the more fascinated I become. Like the fact that they taste from their feet—which is insane—or that their wings are made up of microscopic scales. Butterflies are like the world’s smallest dragons.

A knock sounds on my door. I’m sure it’s Griff.

“Come in,” I call out, wiping my eyes clean.

The door opens, and Griffin walks in, noticing my emotional state immediately. “Hey, man. How are you holding up?”

I could tell him I’m fine and that everything’s great. But he would know it’s a lie, just like I do. Besides, out of respect for him, I won’t.

“You know …” I trail off.

He nods solemnly. “Do you want to talk about him?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“I get it, man.” He pauses, a similar sadness skating across his features as his mind drifts away for a moment. “Are you staying here today then?”

“Yeah. Let me know if I need to do anything for class, please.”

He nods. “Will do. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make today easier for you.”

I force a smile his way, and he closes the door on his way out.

I don’t know if today is supposed to be easy. If it’s not painful, does that mean I love my brother less?

It sure feels that way.

I walk over to the fireplace, and my gaze travels over the black-framed bugs.

Alora flashes in my mind. Bug .

I remember when I gave her that nickname and the meaning I told her. One I created to inflict as much damage as possible. But I don’t use it like that anymore. To be honest, I haven’t for a long time.

When my life became complete chaos after Micah was killed, Alora became one of the only constants. A revolving focal point in my life. She was always there, whether she was aware I was watching or not.

For so long, I fought my feelings for her, but they’ve been there since day one. I just hid them so deep beneath the anger that I couldn’t see them clearly.

I mean, what was I supposed to do? Fall for the daughter of the man responsible for my brother’s death? I couldn’t.

Because every day that she came into that school, showing up in her fancy car and wanting for nothing, I knew the blood that existed on every dollar of her wealth.

She was an oasis that I punished myself for wanting to drink from. It would have been the utmost betrayal to Micah, even if he wouldn’t see it that way.

There’s still a part of me that feels guilty for letting her get close to me at all.

But the more I sink into her mind, the more I think she’s in the dark about everything her father has done. She’s not greedy or snotty like I gaslighted myself to believe.

However, it’s not like her dad is completely out of the picture. Especially after he pulled me aside when he was here on campus. The audacity he had to say my name. To say Micah’s. It took everything in me not to beat him into the ground until his blood stained the stones.

I know Alora might not be close with her father, but he’s still her dad. I can’t change that. I worry that when she discovers the truth, she’ll take his side.

I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, teetering back and forth between pulling her closer to me and shoving her away.

Turning on the TV that’s mounted above the fireplace, I put on Micah’s favorite Transformers movie. I wonder if he’d still love it as much now. Would he laugh at the same parts?

I lie back in bed, looking up and watching the movie. Today is about honoring him. I’m going to make his favorite sandwich later for lunch and pick up a small, personal-sized chocolate cake.

My stare locks on the screen as images flash from the movie, but my eyes don’t focus; they just stay in place as I cower inside of my mind.

* * *

After eating a hot ham and cheese, I grab my keys and wallet to head to the grocery store. I know Mrs. Potts would have been more than happy to get the cake for me when she did her grocery shopping for the house. But it would have felt wrong.

She’s not part of my story; she’s part of Blair and Griffin’s. This is something I have to do for myself.

Walking out of the front door, I find Blair, Lumi, and Alora walking up the steps.

Shit .

This is exactly what I was trying to avoid today. But I haven’t exactly told Griffin all the details regarding Alora’s dad and his involvement. Just that he played a role in that night.

But I know he hasn’t shared any of that with Blair out of respect for my privacy, so she would have no reason to not invite her over.

Stepping back through the threshold, I realize it’s too late. They’ve already seen me. I can’t run and hide, as much as my body is telling me to.

“Hey.” Alora’s face lights up when she spots me.

Mustering as much joy as I can into my voice, I flash a smile. “Hi.”

“Where are you off to?” Blair asks, nosy as ever.

“I’ve got to run a couple of errands,” I respond, hearing the coldness to my voice, even colder than the chilly air whipping around us.

Alora walks up to me and snakes her arms around my waist. I freeze, feeling like my consciousness is separating from my body.

She notices and looks up at me with worry. “What’s wrong?”

God, I hate how attentive she is right now. I can’t hide anything from her. “What? Nothing. I’m fine.”

Blair eyes me angrily, and I wonder if my words came out crueler than I realize.

“Need some company?” Alora’s doe eyes tempt me, but I need space right now, especially from her.

I’m not ready to tell her the truth. Frankly, I don’t want to tell her at all. I don’t want to hurt her with the secrets I keep.

“Not right now,” I snap, stepping back from her embrace.

Pain strikes her eyes, and my heart constricts, the thorns digging into my flesh.

“Oh … okay.”

Blair walks toward the door with Lumi. “Alora, we’ll meet you inside.”

She turns to me and scolds me with her glare—mentally threatening me, I’m sure.

The door closes behind them, leaving Alora and me all alone.

“What’s wrong, Malik? I can tell something’s up.” She pushes her question again.

But I can’t tell her. Especially today. This is his day, and I won’t let a Briarwood, even her, take that from him.

She reaches and touches my hand. I jump back from the contact as it shocks me. I can’t. I just can’t. Not today.

Her eyes start to well with tears, and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that blood bursts in my mouth.

“Alora, please.”

“Please what?” she whimpers. “You haven’t told me what you want me to do. You’ve barely said anything at all.”

“Just go inside,” I say, telling her what I want her to do.

“Why are you being so cold right now? I don’t understand. Everything’s been going so well.” Confusion contorts her face as a mask in her eyes falls back in place.

This is exactly why I didn’t want to see her today.

Reaching up, she cups my cheek, and my throat burns.

“Talk to me, please. Don’t shut me out.”

Lightly grabbing her wrist, I remove it from my face. There are a thousand words I want to say to her. A million things I want to share. But I can’t even muster enough bravery to open my mouth.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re a fucking coward . ” My uncle’s words echo in my mind, and for the first time, I agree with him.

I’m worthless. Weak. A pathetic excuse for a man.

Letting her in was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done—but above all, it was the most selfish.

I’m falling for her. I want to grab her, kiss her, and confess it all.

But today isn’t the time for that conversation. She shouldn’t hear those words from me until she knows the truth about our pasts and how intertwined they really are.

She wipes her eyes. “It was easier when all you did was torture me. At least then, I knew what your intentions were. Instead of getting comfortable with your compliments, constantly waiting for this shoe to drop.”

Pushing past me, she bumps my arm, and I reach out for her wrist.

“ Alora .”

I don’t want to hurt her. Fuck , I don’t want to be the reason she ever cries again.

She yanks her arm from my grasp and whips around. “Figure your shit out, Malik. Please.” She pauses, her bottom lip quivering. “If this was all just another stunt, another taunt, then, yay, you got me good.”

“It’s not,” I whisper, but it’s far too late.

She’s already gone inside.

I’m crazy about her, wild even, and I don’t think that anything is going to stop that train. Maybe I could prove it to her in another way … how serious I am about her.

Ripping my phone out of my pocket, I shoot a quick text.

Me: I need your next available appointment.

I’ve been itching to get another tattoo and this one will be perfect.