Page 6 of Tell Me Softly

Chapter Three

Kami

I couldn’t have imagined a worse day. I never thought that seeing Taylor and Thiago again would affect me like that, but it had.

A few hours later when I left school, all I could hear the girls on the steps talking about was how handsome Taylor was, how sexy Thiago was, how exciting it was to have the Di Bianco brothers walking the halls.

I hadn’t even known Thiago was there till I walked straight into him.

And when I did, I was speechless. It made sense that all the girls were losing their minds over him.

He looked like a model. His body had filled out spectacularly with age, and he had a face to die for.

The feelings I had for him when I was younger flared up like an ember when I had him in front of me.

But his eyes were like ice, and he made it clear that he didn’t even want to pretend I existed.

I’d never been so supremely dismissed. He’d been nice to everyone; he even remembered a lot of the kids’ names, and they had welcomed him home with open arms. But he couldn’t even bring himself to smile at me. And that hurt.

At lunch, I had to watch Taylor talking to everyone and making a point not to even look over at me.

I was friends with the guys on the basketball team––they usually took the table next to me and my friends––and though the guys usually talked with the guys and the girls with the girls, that day everyone joined in the same conversation. And most of it was about Taylor.

“Do you know why they decided to come back?” Kate asked, gaping at Thiago, who was sitting at the teachers’ table with his headphones on, keeping to himself. Taylor hadn’t changed like Thiago: he was the same funny, talkative guy as always. With everyone but me, I mean.

“Kami!” I had ignored Kate’s question, and she nudged me with her elbow. “They were your neighbors, weren’t they?”

“They were. And they are again,” I said, pushing away my tray without even trying a bite.

“What?! We need details!”

“Details about what?” I responded irritably. I just couldn’t manage being nice. I wanted to go home and not think about anything else.

“I don’t know. Wait, here’s an idea: how about you play the nice neighbor and bake one of those delicious cakes of yours. That can be your in.”

I imagined myself doing it: spending the afternoon measuring ingredients, mixing batter, creating the perfect icing for the perfect cake.

I could walk to their house and the past would be the past. We’d eat cake together, and they wouldn’t stop talking about how delicious it was because––and I’m not just saying this because it’s mine––my carrot cake is the best in town.

And everything would be the way it had been before they left.

The thought that this would never happen made me so sad, I didn’t even realize I’d stood up.

“Where are you going?” Kate asked. “Class doesn’t start for half an hour.”

“I need to take some papers to the principal’s office. I’ll see you in math.”

I nearly ran out of the lunchroom, and I spent the rest of the period hiding under the bleachers outside and drawing.

Luckily, Taylor wasn’t in my math class––he was in calculus with the rest of the nerds who wanted to study medicine or engineering. Me, I was more of an art person: film, music, all that.

My last two classes passed quickly, and since cheerleading practice didn’t start till the next day, I was able to go home early. But I remembered on my way to the car that Mom had wanted me to stop by the club for some BS. I took out my phone and saw a message from her.

Change of plans. I’m picking up your brother, but you need to stay home and watch him. We’ll talk later.

Relieved, I sighed and put the car in gear, backing out of the parking space and heading for home.

On my way, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw a motorcycle catching up to me.

I knew who it was as soon as I saw him. Thiago cut right and wedged himself between me and the car next to me, not even slowing down as he passed us both.

Startled, I hit the brakes. I could see the guy in the car behind me cursing and waving his hands. But I ignored him and drove on, trying to relax. As I parked my car in my driveway, I looked over. Thiago was walking into his house as if nothing had happened.

No one was home but my brother, our cook, and me.

Through the window, I could see Cameron playing in the backyard, so I went straight to my room.

All I wanted was to take off my dress and get comfortable.

Mom wouldn’t be back till late––when she canceled our plans, she always came home late.

So did Dad. So I put on gym shorts and a T-shirt and pulled my hair up into a ponytail. The day had been exhausting.

I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until the doorbell startled me awake. When I opened my eyes, I saw it was dark out. Shit! Prue went home at seven, so who was with Cameron?

I didn’t hear the sound of video games or anything else upstairs, so I ran down the stairs.

When I threw open the front door, I was paralyzed. I found Thiago there with my little brother.

“Kami, this is our new neighbor!” Cameron shouted. “He plays basketball!”

I didn’t know what to say. Thiago seemed to be staring through me. Coldly, he examined my legs, my hips, my torso, and finally looked me in the eyes.

He was intimidating, so I turned to Cameron, feeling the anger bubble up. Both Thiago and Taylor had given me the brush-off at school, scowling and ignoring my attempts to talk to them. These were the people I’d supposedly missed so much? The ones who had been my only real friends?

“Cameron, who told you that you could go outside on your own?” I hissed.

His eyes opened wide. “I just wanted to meet the new neighbors…”

“Go to your room,” I said, taking out on him what I should really have taken out on the boy next to him.

My brother ran past me like a bullet but looked back to shout to his new friend, “Let’s do it again, man!” I looked back at him with a scowl that made him take off again, not stopping till he made it upstairs.

The most galling thing of all was that when I looked back at Thiago, he was smiling.

“What the hell’s so funny?” I asked, shutting the door behind me so my brother wouldn’t hear us. I took a step toward him.

“You,” he responded. “I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I said, almost cutting him off. My mother had Cameron almost a year after they left, so of course they knew nothing about him.

I’d have preferred our first conversation in years not to be like this. In another world, I’d have been nice to him, and he’d have been warm with me. But unfortunately, life doesn’t work out the way you wish it did.

“I know enough to tell you I don’t want to have shit to do with you and your family,” he blurted out. It was my fault––I should have expected that reaction.

“What the hell are you doing here, then?”

Thiago looked over at his porch, and I followed suit. We both saw Taylor observing us.

“We’re here because this is our home, and we’re not going to stay away just because of you and your family.”

“You act like I had something to do with it,” I said. I pressed my back against the door, but Thiago leaned in uncomfortably close.

“Keep your mouth shut,” he growled.

It’s not that I didn’t feel guilty––guilt was eating away at me just then––but I was angry enough to keep it hidden. I’d harbored that feeling for eight years, and by now, I was used to not thinking about it.

“Look,” I said. “I was ten years old. And anyway, my father had a right to know.” Both things were true, but I still wish I’d listened to Thiago. If I had, maybe no one would have found out, our lives wouldn’t have changed, we’d have been friends, and they’d never have moved.

But the ache in my chest made me stop thinking about it. And then Thiago struck the doorframe right by my head.

“You were an idiot. You ruined my life, and here you are living a fairytale!” he yelled. That resentment—that hatred in his face—had been seething for years. But we both knew he was wrong.

I needed a few seconds to get over the fright and the shock of someone I cared about so much treating me this way.

“Leave,” I said, knowing I was about to break down crying.

Since they’d moved, I’d never been able to truly commit to a friendship.

I was scared of making another mistake, of losing someone again.

I didn’t want to give anyone else the power to hurt me ever again.

Thiago and Taylor still had that power, I realized.

And they were prepared to use it. They hadn’t just come home––they’d come back for revenge, and I was sure they were going to make me pay.

“Leave her alone, Thiago,” another voice said, and I saw a hand come between us and draw him back. Thiago turned around as I stood there, stunned.

Taylor had intervened, and I was grateful for it. I remembered how he always used to mediate between us when Thiago was mean to me when we were kids. But this time, it wasn’t a childhood argument. This time, there were open wounds that were still bleeding, memories that still ached.

“Listen, you stay away from us, and we’ll stay away from you,” Thiago said, turning around to glare at me one last time. “And you should keep a closer eye on your brother.”

He walked down the steps of the front porch and jogged to his house with long strides.

Taylor told me warmly, “We didn’t come here to make your life hell.”

“Tell your brother that,” I answered, unable to shake off the situation.

“Some scars never heal,” he said, lifting his right arm to show me the same scar on his wrist that I had on mine. I knew exactly what he was trying to say.

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