27. Abel

I wake with a start,the edges of a hazy dream still lingering as I blink up at the white ceiling. It’s disorienting, falling from something so real to diving into another that is.

A heavy weight is crushing my left side, making it hard to breathe. At first, I think it must be the dream. Or maybe I’m back in a place I was always supposed to be, but then, my head turns to find Peris lying beside me, and it all comes back.

“You’re not worthless.”

We’ve migrated into the corner of the sectional sofa with an old quilt tangled between us. Peris’s head is heavy atop my torso, and his arms are crossed over his chest. It makes him look smaller than he really is. More… vulnerable.

My eyes burn, lips curved into a smile as I watch him sleep. Noting the frown that never really leaves. The crease between his brows that will surely become a wrinkle within the next couple of years.

His endless, crushing weight that’s as paralyzing as it is liberating. Haunting words that are nothing but tired echoes.

“Hey, morning,” a voice whispers softly from above. I jerk back, a squawk ripping from my throat as my head slams into the back of the sofa. My arms shoot upward to cover my face as I choke on the beat of my heart down somewhere in my gut, twining with the urge to throw up.

“Woah, woah, hey. Hey.” Softer—if that’s even possible. But I barely hear the words. Blood’s rushing too fast in my ears, limbs trembling. Fuck. Fuck.

It’s Elise.

It’s okay.

Fingers graze my arms with a featherlight touch, but I still twitch, trying my hardest to keep still.

“Abel, it’s just me. Elise,” she clarifies. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her words are confusing, catching somewhere between the panic clawing at my insides and the rush of a truth that doesn’t make sense. Peris’s weight pinning me down is welcome, grounding me to the moment. Because it’s him, and I’m here. I’m safe.

I’m fucking safe.

The release chokes me, a sob bubbling up my throat before I can stop it, and my arms move, fingers finding Peris’s thick hair purely on instinct. It’s still grimy and textured from the game last night, but it’s soft, and it’s his.

My chest deflates, lips parting on a breath of relief. Fuck, it doesn’t make sense, but I can feel it. How wrong I was—how right this is.

“Abel.”

My eyes fly open, hands stilling with my nails just grazing Peris’s scalp—and he chooses the fucking moment I look his mother in the eyes to hum contentedly and roll into me even more.

I grunt, curling up as his weight sinks against my abdomen, Peris’s torso now firmly wedged between my legs. Heat blooms across my cheeks as I wince, readily avoiding Elise’s soft, green eyes, which happen to dart between me and Peris with… with something.

Shit. Shit.

Fuck me, what have I done?

She’s gonna kick me out. I’m fucking cuddled up on her couch with her son. Breaking I don’t even know how many rules. Lying. Manipulating. Fucking a foster sibling. Sleeping on the goddamn couch with him!

I start stuttering before I even realize my mouth is open and words are coming out. “Shit, Elise. I-I—Fuck. Shit, sorry. Goddamnit, I-I’m sorry. I know th-this looks—” I glance down at Peris, sleeping through the fucking tornado that’s come and swept the house up.

I have a very sudden urge to punch his stupid fucking face for getting me into this mess and then just snoozing away right through the destruction.

“I’m so sorry. I-it’s not what it—what it looks like. Which sounds stupid, but—but I swear. Please, you have to believe me. I-I wouldn’t fuck this up—” The lie is cut off with a gentle hand on my forearm, inches above my fingers still buried in Peris’s hair.

“Abel, baby, take a fucking breath,” Elise commands, tone still so gentle. I don’t understand. But my body succumbs, and I breathe in. Then out, eyes watering at the influx of oxygen.

After a few deep breaths, Elise’s frown morphs into a small smile. “Better?”

“Yeah, actually,” I croak, still blushing.

“Good. Now, if you can extract yourself from his—” She flicks her hand back and forth, gesturing at Peris’s body, “dead weight, we’ll talk in the kitchen.”

“Uh, yeah. Erm, okay.” I nod sharply, chin bumping my chest with each jerky movement. When Elise turns her back, I slam my head into the back of the sofa. “You stupid fucking idiot,” I mutter over and over.

“Stupid,” Peris mutters, startling me. But when I glance down, his eyes are still closed, eyeballs fluttering around beneath his eyelids, lips parted as he snores lightly against my chest.

Even in his sleep, he still manages to insult me.

I frown at his soft face. I probably shouldn’t find that endearing.

After muttering a few insults at Peris’s unconscious form, I’m able to fight my way out from beneath his crushing weight, grunting from the effort. My legs, which were asleep, are now tingling with pins and needles that nearly make me buckle. I catch the couch for support, grimacing as I push down through it with every step toward the kitchen—and it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I’m probably about to get kicked out on my ass or… fuck. Or get sent to a group home.

I almost made it…

The thought nearly makes me keel over, but I steel my spine and lock my limbs to face whatever comes. Knowing without a doubt, I’ll always fuck up whatever good comes my way.

It’s just not meant for people like me.

And Elise may be pissed—or worse, disappointed—but she’d never hit me, and that’s a startling relief in and of itself.

I tug on the crumpled hem of my skirt, agonizingly cognizant I’m still in my uniform. But hey, I’m fucking clothed, and I think that says a lot where Peris and I are concerned. Definitely could have woken up to a lot worse.

I shudder, thinking of Elise finding us naked. Jesus Christ, that’d definitely be worse than accidentally sending nudes.

I’m silent as I enter the kitchen, head bowed in unexpected shame as I pull out my usual chair, poised and waiting for the inevitable moment it all crashes and burns—because it always does.

“How’re you feeling? Hungover?” Elise asks. I squint as I glance up through my matted lashes, finding her in her seat, a mug clasped between both hands. Her hair is still tied up in a messy knot atop her head, wayward strands sticking out with frizz, and in pajamas.

“Did you just wake up?” I ask hesitantly. How much did she see? Did I do something… say something in my sleep?

She shakes her head before taking a sip. “No. Got up a couple of hours ago but stayed in bed a while. It’s almost eleven.” My eyes dart to the clock on the stove. I smile sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long night for all of us, it seems.” This time, she’s smirking around the rim of her cup, and I’m so fucking confused, I can’t take it.

“Elise, I’m so sorry. I know it looks bad, but I swear, we just fell asleep. I didn’t even know—” Her hand drops on top of mine, and the squeeze of her fingers feels reassuring, but I don’t know if I can trust it.

“Abel, stop freaking out. I’m not mad.”

I blink down at our joined hands before peering up. “You’re… not?”

“No, of course not. You were both being safe, weren’t you?” I nearly choke on my spit. Peris and I have never once been safe in each other’s proximity. But… oh, Jesus fuck, don’t tell me she’s talking about condoms or something.

I cannot have this conversation right now.

“Uh… what do you mean?” My voice hikes a few decibels at the end, making me wince.

“Well, he didn’t drink and drive, did he?”

“What?” I rear back, blinking rapidly. And then, it all comes rushing back. The conversation in the gym. The party.

“Oh.” I blink owlishly. “Yeah, no. We didn’t even go.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we just…” My lips curl to the side in a soft smirk. “We just drove around and listened to music.” We didn’t talk for… fuck. Probably hours. Just an endless road of gravel and pavement and music with our shared breathing and clangorous thoughts.

“You’re not worthless. Not to me.”

Those words, spoken gruffly and burned with sleep, trickle through the forefront of my mind on an endless stream,

Fuck you, Peris. Why’d you have to say that?

“Well, that makes me much happier than thinking of you guys at a party getting drunk. I’m so glad I have responsible kids.” She shoots me a wink, and I choke on the casual way she just called me her kid.

“Y-your kid?” I stutter, choking on the onslaught of emotions I’m about to puke up. She’s called me her boy before but not… Nothing too blatant.

Her smile is soft and knowing.

She’s always known, I think.

What is it about this woman that’s just so… so good?!

“Of course, Abel. I’ve loved you for a long time. Probably since that night in the E.R. You’re a beautiful, brilliant kid. And you’re strong. Resilient. I know I don’t know much of anything you’ve gone through, but you must know by now that you have a home here, with us?”

She sounds vulnerable, and fuck me if that doesn’t fuck everything up inside.

“Y-yeah, I do. I do,” I say, firmer. Trying to convince myself, I think—and her, too.

“Good.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and I can’t take it. I finally look away, back down at my disheveled form. Just spit it out.

You need to know.

“What about, erm. Me and Peris.” My face burns with sharp pinpricks.

“What? The accidental cuddling?”

I cough and splutter a bit. “Uh, yeah.” I wrinkle my nose for show.

She shrugs and takes another drink. “I don’t really care. I’m honestly just happy y’all are starting to get along.” She scrunches her nose before her eyes squint. “But that’s all it is, right? Brotherly affection.”

This time, I choke on air, curling over the table as I hammer against my chest. It doesn’t help that my mouth is as dry as the desert and tastes like fucking ass. But I know what ass tastes like and this—this is death.

Like something crawled inside my mouth, curled up, and died there. “Can I get some coffee?”

Elise waves at me. “Duh.”

It’s not until my back is to her that I can face her question. When she can’t see my face or the way it physically hurts to lie to her.

When did that happen?

“I don’t know if it’s brotherly. More… friendly?” It’s said like a question as I yank on my braids, now falling apart with hair sticking out from each twist. “You know Peris and I clash. But I think we’re maybe, finally finding a groove that works? We just hung out and listened to music. When we got home, we both sat on the couch to watch T.V., but I know I felt like a zombie, so Peris must’ve been dead to the world.” I laugh as I glance over my shoulder. Elise nods, encouraging me to keep going.

“So, anyway,” I add five heaping scoops of sugar and stir it, swaying with each cling of metal against ceramic, “I think we’re trying to be friends.” The word tastes wrong. “Or something. I don’t know. We’ll probably still fight a lot.”

“As brothers do,” Elise says like that’s not so fucked up. I grimace, lip curling upward with my nose as I turn around. She laughs at my expression. “I know, I know. It’s weird, but it’s funny too because you’re both eighteen, about out of high school. More roommates than anything, but I love to tease.”

“Peris must get that from you,” I blurt as I stare down into the dark swirl of coffee. Then my eyes shoot open wide. “Erm?—”

“Yeah, probably.”

“What about his dad? He doesn’t talk about him. Neither do you, and there aren’t any pictures. Did he die?” I ask, tone softer, trying to be sensitive or whatever.

My head cocks to the side when Elise stiffens from head to toe. It’s the second time I’ve ever seen her looking truly uncomfortable, and if that doesn’t set off a dozen alarm bells in my brain…

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“We just don’t—” She pulls in a deep breath, steadying herself. “We don’t talk about him.”

“Okay.” I nod, accepting her answer. Peris isn’t gonna like it when I press him about this. “So, what’s the agenda for today?” I change the subject easily.

“Dunno. What sounds good?”

I shrug, always useless when she asks because I still don’t know how to… how to just be.

“How about a chill day at home, and then tonight, we’ll all make dinner together before I have work?”

I light up at spending the day with two of my favorite people—one of which is just a lot more complicated. But Peris is more bearable in front of his mother. Portraying his best behavior, I bet. Probably because he doesn’t want her to see what a fucking psycho he is under that sheep’s mask he wears. Maybe he doesn’t want me to see, either.

Not that I’m complaining.

We all wear our skinsuits.

“That actually sounds… nice.” I smile. And I know it’s crooked because my jaw is uneven and my lips are too big on my small face. All angles, no softness. But Elise smiles back and maybe…

Just maybe.

I’m not so bad.