7. Abel

Why, indeed, I think on the walk home. The weather has cooled significantly, so I wrap my arms around my middle against the low breeze. Thankfully, the walk back to Elise’s house isn’t long, and I rather enjoy the fresh air. The cool, crispness of autumn—my favorite time of the year. Where everything is barren and dead.

My Three Days Grace CD skips through a song before playing “Pain” next, which inadvertently brings up way too many fucking feelings at once.

Mine for Peris being at the forefront as I shove the rest behind. He’s easier to deal with in that respect. I have a game plan. A solution. To get him to succumb to me. That’s all I want. For him to just fucking admit it. Maybe then, he won’t be wound so fucking tight.

It’s disgusting and despicable—what I’m doing. I’m all too aware of my actions and their consequences. I just don’t care.

Peris nabbed my curiosity that night at the school, and I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind since. All I want to do is return the sentiment.

He’s all I can think about, which really isn’t out of the norm, but today just felt… heavier. More. Another real conversation, like the one he tried to have in his car to warn me off. When he said he’d even try to be my friend.

I wanted to laugh in his face, how obtuse he is. When what he’s trying to keep from me is the very thing I’ve been digging for all along. Because I can guess all day long, but the fact is, something is very clearly wrong with Peris. And I’m talking like, the fucked up type of wrong.

Like me. And if that isn’t the biggest fucking joke—developing an obsession with someone who can’t stand me. Which is so par for the course.

But there are these moments… these flashes of something more. And it’s his fear that claws at my core. Undiluted and tasting intimate.

Because I’ve fucked around with homophobes before—the ones who spew slurs and talk shit but secretly want their dick sucked and fucked by me—and Peris doesn’t fit under that category, exactly. It’s evident his hatred stems from a deeply internal place. Something he’s always kept buried, entwined heavily with antipathy.

I’ve never seen him act malicious toward a single person with the rare exception being me and my escapades. Which, after today, I feel his walls are finally nearing the verge of collapse.

Elise’s face greets me as I enter the kitchen. I’ve been here a couple of weeks now, but the sight of Elise smiling still guts me. I return the gesture, my own forced. It just feels wrong, knowing I am who I am, inadvertently taking advantage of her kindness and generosity, for however long it lasts.

“How was school?” she asks as she takes a sip from a mug.

My footsteps falter. “Erm, fine. Switched English classes, which is kind of annoying in the middle of the semester.”

“Oh? How come?”

I shrug, growing more uneasy, so I rub at the back of my neck. “Doing it online was apparently ‘too easy’.” I use air quotes, which makes Elise laugh.

“So, they want to push you to your full potential. That’s definitely a positive.”

“I guess.” Quick to change the subject, I blurt, “Peris is at a practice.”

She nods. “I know. He always starts practicing a bit early in the season.”

“Start?” I scoff. “I don’t think he ever stops.” She laughs loudly, dark hair fluttering around her.

“Yeah, you’re definitely right about that.”

I grin slightly, eyes on the table as I shake my head subtly. “Thanks for having me, doc. Really. This has been…” I glance around the kitchen. It’s not big, but it’s not the typical little cut-out I’m used to. Every place I have been has been essentially the same. Except for this place. Contradictory in every way and I’m still swaying from the shift in equilibrium.

It’s getting harder every night I sleep in a bed—a bed that’s all mine—to remind myself this is fucking temporary. To not get used to it. To keep every guard up, stronger and sharper than ever. Doors of steel bolted shut.

But it’s warm. Calm. And, surprisingly, it feels like a home. Not my home but homely. I’ve never felt it before, but I assume this is what it feels like. So, to have it taken away…

Elise waits patiently for me to finish my train of thought, but I lose it along with my resolve.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, Abel. It’s the least I could do.” She’s sincere, too. I don’t know if that’s better or worse. When I inevitably fuck it all up… Especially if Peris and I keep dancing around each other the way we have been.

I click my tongue, tugging on my hair hanging in front of my eyes. “I don’t have to say it for you to get an idea of what it’s been like for me.” A quick glance tells me she’s following along. I swallow against a lump, gritting my teeth as I do. “But I’ve had to do some unsavory shit to get by. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not proud of it. And I’m certainly not ashamed—I can’t be. But it’s also not something I exactly want to do, if I don’t have to, yanno. And, well… I haven’t had to. So… yeah. I do have to thank you for that.” My scalp burns where my hair is clenched tightly between the fingers of my left hand.

It”s quiet, so quiet my stomach fills with dread and something akin to real, unbridled shame. Did I just fuck up by saying that? I… I would never give specifics, but it’s really not hard to infer, especially with what she knows from that night at the ER and the injuries I refused to speak about. She knows—she knows, and she’s going to kick me out on my ass. You stupid?—

Arms encase me on either side in a soft enclosure. I stiffen, shoulders hiking to my stretched earlobes as Elise wraps me in a hug. She drops her head beside mine, soft breath funneling against my overheated skin. I’m still chilled to the bone from my walk, but my blood is boiling, causing sweat to bead along my pores.

I keep my arms at my sides, unsure of how to participate. After what is probably only a minute but feels like twenty lifetimes, Elise slowly pulls away, a small smile on her soft, pink lips. She tucks a lock of white hair behind my ear, and it’s that gesture that makes my nose burn. The sensation radiates up and into my eyes.

Stepping back, I blink rapidly to rid myself of the feeling. “Are you okay?” she asks, never looking away from my eyes. Jutting out my chin, I nod sharply. She accepts the answer and takes her chair at the table again.

“I get the sense you’re not one to talk about things. And that’s okay—I don’t expect you to just dive into it. But Peris and I have always been open with each other. We have to be, when…” she trails off, face pinching. I turn, entranced at the possibility of learning more about him. Could this be the thing of it all? And to learn it without his consent? Even better.

“Anyhoo,” she mumbles, forcing her own smile, but her green eyes are still lost somewhere in the past, a familiar vacancy mirrored back at me. “We talk a lot. About our days, our feelings. I know you’ve noticed but haven’t participated, so I don’t know if that’s something you’d want to try, but I am here—we are—if you want to.”

“You mean to tell me Peris would want to hear what I have to say?” I quip, trying to lighten the mood. It works. Elise laughs softly, lips pursing.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you two?”

I lean back in my own chair, pressing my hands to the edge of the table to tilt my chair back on two legs. “Whatever do you mean?”

Elise snorts. “Oh, please. I’m not completely obtuse. I hear you two bickering. And that’s not even including the way Peris snaps at you in front of me. He’s not usually like that anymore, so I assume something has happened.” She pauses for a moment, trying to read my face, but I’ve got my mask firmly in place. No more slip-ups or almost accidental tears—no, thank you.

“Is it going to be a problem?” She bluntly asks. I appreciate that.

“No,” I tell her confidently, even if it’s probably a lie. “I promise. We just, uh.” I drop my chair back down with a loud crack. “We just clash sometimes. At school. You know, two strong personalities. It happens.”

“Well, you two are foster brothers now.”

I blink. You see, Elise, about that… “I guess for now, yeah.”

Elise is shaking her head before I’ve even finished. “No, not for now. You’ll be here as long as you want to be, Abel. Bill and I have spoken. It took a while, but Social Services finally approved your permanent placement here.”

“They didn’t want to try and find someplace else for me to go, I’m guessing,” I respond dryly but gratefully.

She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know, but I let them know you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you wanted.”

“Yeah, I bet they loved that. Not often someone tries to keep one of us around. Less work for them.” When I glance up, coming face to face with that look—pity and gentleness—I stiffen. “Sorry, that was rude. I am grateful.”

“I know, honey. Don’t worry about it. Say what’s on your mind.”

Mhm, I don’t think that would be wise.

“I guess I can try. Just don’t, like, kick me out or whatever.” I try to make light of how serious I am.

Elise sees right through it. “You’re here for however long you want to be here.”

If only that were true. Maybe then, I could finally breathe.

“Hey, Abel,”Elise prompts with a gentle lilt to her voice. I focus my attention on her while reveling in the feel of Peris’s eyes stuck to the side of my still-healing face.

“What’s up?” She turns toward the table with something in her hand. Cradling it, really.

“I got you something today. I wanted to wait till Peris was home so we could all exchange numbers at once!” She reaches out and thrusts the phone and its accompanying box in my hand with a grin so wide, I’m sure her cheeks are aching.

I blink slowly at her smiling face—once, twice—before my gaze drops to the object in my palm. Sleek glass is reflected back at me. “What?”

“Well, I…” She falters for a moment. “I figured you’d need a phone. It’s not realistic to rely on Peris for communication, and besides, you deserve?—”

“Elise, this is—this—” I drag my fingers through my hair, yanking at the ends before shoving them behind my ears, only for the strands to flop back in front of my eyes. “It’s too much.”

“Nonsense. It’s just enough, and I don’t want to hear anything else about it, okay?” She softens her words toward the end, drawing my gaze upward. Her golden-green eyes are gentle, easing a slight bit of my guilt but not enough.

Not fucking enough.

“I’ll—”

“Nope.” She pops the P as she drops back into her chair and picks up her fork. She waves it in the air in my direction before it shifts to Peris. “Would you expect Peris to pay me for his?”

I follow the path. Peris is silent, sitting stiffly in his chair with his own fork dangling midair. “Uh… yeah?”

Elise clicks her tongue. “No. He doesn’t pay me, so I don’t expect you to. Ever.”

I can barely swallow through the constriction in my throat and down through my sternum. “Well, I…” My eyes dart between her and Peris, feeling the rush of blood to my face but unable to avoid it. “Thank you,” I force out strongly with a nod.

Her smile is blinding. “Of course! Here’s my one exception to no phones at the table. Open it, and we’ll get our numbers added! It’s got unlimited everything, so have fun. And I already connected it to the Wi-Fi for you.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Erm. Thanks.” Jesus, could my face burn any hotter? Peris snorts loudly. My head jerks in his direction, but all he does is blink before picking up his fork and shoveling food into his mouth.

After Elise gives me hers and Peris’s numbers, I call them both so they have mine, and I’m unable to fight back my smile at Peris’s grimace seeing my number pop up on his screen.

“Now, we can call each other,” I whisper to him as Elise responds to an apparent work text.

“If you even?—”

“So, Abel, tell me some stuff about you,” Elise says as she flips her phone upside down. I straighten in my chair, eyes unconsciously flickering toward Peris in warning. He only rolls his.

There’s a long pause as I try to formulate a single appropriate thing about myself, but nothing comes to mind, and if that’s not embarrassing…

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course,” she adds quickly. I barely manage to bite back a grimace as I push a lump through my throat, passing it off as a cough. I take a drink of water, and as I set the glass back down, Peris’s smirking face is revealed.

Asshole.

As if she can sense my unease, she prompts something that would generally be an easy topic, but nothing really is when it comes to me and my fucked up life. “Do you have a birthday coming up? Peris just had his eighteenth at the end of July, and mine’s in August,” she says, shooting me a smile. I return it, feeling unsettled.

Not because of anything she did necessarily; I’m just not used to talking about myself.

Actually, I don’t think anyone—aside from previous kids I’ve been in a home with—have ever asked me personal questions.

Mo asked a lot…

I wince and clear my throat again, tugging at the collar of my hoodie. “Uh… mmm, technically February,” I answer with a wave of hesitance. Her steps falter on the way back to the table, three sodas in her two hands.

“Technically?” She sets a can of Dr. Pepper in front of me.

“Thank you. And yeah.” The hiss of the top popping open hits my ears.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Peris blurts. My gaze flicks to him, not quite meeting his eyes, but I arch a brow as if to say, what do you care? His lip curls in disdain.

Squinting, I look away from Peris to tell Elise, “My real birthday is October eleventh.” I drag my bag out from between my feet and rifle around inside until I find the Polaroid between yellowed pages. My eyes catch on the yellowed plastic with unease. Something akin to shame settles in my gut.

I stare down at a weathered image of my mother. She’s lying on an old, twin-sized mattress placed on a floor. Her skin is blotchy with knots and bruises, pupils blown so wide, her eyes look black. She’s smiling weakly, showcasing yellowed teeth, as she looks right at the camera with me in her arms. I’m swaddled in dirty blankets with my mouth open in what was probably a scream.

I can’t imagine not screaming around her.

My jagged thumbnail traces the date written at the bottom. Abel. October 11th.

With an unsteady hand and a pit in my gut, I hand it over. Elise takes it gently to study it, and I watch as her face softens in empathy. I hate the way it makes my heart ache.

Just say it, Abel. Say the truth no one believes.

It’s not like it matters, anyway.

“Lucy gave birth to me at home, high out of her mind. Or, I guess, it was probably some dealer’s house. I honestly couldn’t tell you because she never even told me.” There’s a pregnant pause, two sets of eyes burning into the top of my bent head.

The shame of what she did, of who I am, will never be less than this overwhelming forever.

“But after I was born, I guess it took her a few months to register my existence to the fucking government.” I spit the words out, hating that I still sound so bitter over it. “But when she finally fucking did it, she couldn’t even remember the exact day I was born, so I guess she wrote down the date of the day she went in.” I pick up my fork and stab a piece of penne covered in a cheesy cream sauce.

“And so, that is why I am technically eighteen, and yet, there is no proof, no paper trail to back it up other than the apparent word of a junkie and her degenerate kid.” And I’m still stuck in this vicious fucking cycle. I shove the bite into my mouth, chewing viciously. I swallow against the constriction in my throat, hating the way it has closed up, almost making me choke on more than my truth.

“Wow,” Elise breathes, handing the photo back to me. I take it stiffly, avoiding her gaze as I shove it back in my bag before letting it fall back to the floor with a dull thud. Peris shoves away from the table, the legs of his chair screeching obnoxiously across the tile.

“Peris? What’s wrong?” Elise asks at his sudden outburst. His lips part, but no sound comes out. His eyes dart between me and his mom, the truth poised on the tip of his tongue but remains stuck.

With a sigh of defeat, he sighs. “Nothing.” His fingers card through his hair. Elise reaches out and grips his wrist as he slowly drops back down.

“I know this can be hard, but it’s important for us to be supportive right now,” she says softer, but I can still hear. I’ve gotten good at straining my ears over the years. Listening is necessary for survival.

“It’s okay,” I say easily, talking over both of them as I shovel more food in my mouth. Sauce clings to my lips, and my tongue makes a slow drag over my flesh to lick it up.

Peris doesn’t eat anymore, and the rest of the meal drags slowly until the trance is broken when Elise announces she has to leave for work.

The second her back is turned, Peris pushes away from the table and shoots to his feet once more. I lean over the smooth, stone surface, garnering his attention. His eyes widen before they narrow into unsteady slits. “Sit down,” he hisses, gaze flicking toward his mom at the sink, rinsing off her dishes.

I shake my head, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. My hair brushes back and forth across my face, a flash of white between color. “Maybe if you ask nicely,” I drawl.

He glares down at me out of the corner of his eye, dark lashes fanning his sharp cheekbones, hands flexed into fists at his sides. They tremble.

After a beat, he leans down, caging me in his arms as he places one against the tabletop and the other on the back of my chair. He speaks low, words only meant for us. “I’m fucking done being nice.” His breath is warm breath against my lips, and I can taste him on my tongue. “Stay the fuck away from me, Abel. Please,” he rasps, surprisingly soft. I feel his intent. The all-consuming wrath he’s trying to push out. But underneath it is the terror. The fear that I’ll make him break.

“Or I will fucking kill you.”

I smile. A small, fragile thing just for him, even as my heart jackknifes against bone. Blood rushes in my ears. Sweat licks across my forehead. “Promise me you’ll make good on that threat.” I flick my tongue out; grateful my back is to his mother so she can’t see a thing shared between us.

His Adam’s apple bobs, but then a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. It’s leery, a bit manic, and it makes my skin crawl pleasantly.