Like dragonflies, p.14
Like Dragonflies, page 14
Me: Thanks.
I don’t bother telling her that it’ll be cold and useless by the time I get home. Instead, I put my phone on silent and force myself to study and get work done.
An hour later, I’m packing my things up and heading home. I’m not sure how much sense my work makes, but I also don’t care anymore. I know enough stuff to get by and until I can climb out of this depressing-ass hole I’m in, it’ll have to do.
I check my phone no less than five times on the way home and my chest feels empty every time I don’t see Mars’s name pop up. When I get in the house, I decide to send him a picture of the sad-ass latte Mom bought me.
Me: I don’t know what the fuck this is but it’s not cookies ‘n cream.
The three dots jump immediately and it brings a smile to my face.
Mars: You’re so hard up for caffeine that you went to The Coffee Shack?
He sends laughing emojis and a small chuckle escapes me.
Me: I would never. My mom bought it for me.
The three dots jump then stop. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. I should have never mentioned my mother. I wonder if Mars hates her as much as I do. After all, this shit is her fault. If she hadn’t been so hell-bent on keeping up appearances, and keeping secrets, none of this would have happened.
My heart would still be intact.
Waiting for Mars to respond is torture, so I take the top off the knockoff latte Mom got me and sniff it. The espresso is too strong. My nose crinkles at the sharp smell. I don’t even pick up any hints of chocolate.
I walk over to the sink and pour it down the drain. I’ll drink The Grind House or nothing at all.
My phone lights up and I trip over my feet to scoop it into my hands.
Mars: You should go by The Grind House tomorrow and have Martina make your drink.
For some reason, his response hits me hard in the gut. I make the screen go black on my phone and head upstairs to my room.
He told me to go to The Grind House tomorrow.
Tomorrow when he knows he won’t be at work. Tomorrow when he knows he won’t have to look at me. The thought chokes me and makes it hard to swallow.
I hate, even though Mars is my brother, I still want him. I wish the world wasn’t so fucked up, because maybe then I could be with who I wanted and not get locked up for it.
“You’re home.” Mom doesn’t bother to knock. She comes right in. I want to tell her how rude she is, but I know she’s doing it to make sure I’m not smuggling Mars up here. Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that.
Things are so clunky and awkward between us that he won’t come near me. I probably don’t have to worry about seeing him for a very long time.
“I can brush your hair and get it nice and straight before we go out to dinner.” She’s already in the closet picking out an outfit for me to wear, and I’m too drained to care. I’m also too drained to tell her I don’t want to go to fucking dinner at Giovanni’s.
She’s practically floating on a cloud as she lays out clothes on my bed. Maybe she feeds on my heartbreak. That’s the only reason I can fathom for why she’s so happy.
Why can’t she see I’m not myself?
Why can’t she see I’m lying beneath a stone wall with no way out?
She begins talking about her day—like I care—while she takes down my bun and brushes through my long raven hair. I wish I could put up a damn stone wall around her.
“You’re starting to look better already, Sage. Now all I need to see is a smile.” She stares at me in the mirror and I look back at her with sad green eyes. With a sigh, she says, “You’ll be much happier when you get over this whole thing.”
Thing.
She reduced Mars to a thing.
She reduced not telling me about my real father to a thing.
Instead of telling her how much of a cold-hearted bitch she is, I nod quietly. I let her brush my hair and talk to herself until she deems me presentable enough to be seen in public with her.
When she’s done, I look at myself in the mirror and see every ounce of my personality polished away.
She’s heading out of the door when she pauses to look at me. “Oh, Sage, there’s going to be a charity dinner in a couple weeks to raise money for the less fortunate families in Duncan. It’s for the holiday season. You should come. It’ll get your mind off everything.” The tight way her words come out let me know it isn’t a suggestion. I am expected to be there.
“Okay, Mom.” I flash her a small smile, and thankfully, it’s good enough for her to leave me alone.
I get dressed in one of the outfits she laid out for me and put on a string of pearls to tie it all together. I grab my purse and slide my phone inside, after checking to see if Mars sent me any more texts.
He didn’t.
I didn’t enjoy one thing about dinner at Giovanni’s. I only picked at my food to appease Mom. I asked for a doggy bag to take home and pretended I was too stuffed for dessert.
Mom never noticed I was quiet and withdrawn, but Dad couldn’t take his eyes off me the entire time. I wish I could cry in his arms about it all. I wish I could spill my guts and tell him how horrible I feel, and how uncomfortable it is to walk around with crushed shards where my heart should be.
I can’t though.
If he knew I was heartbroken over my own brother, he’d probably think I was sick. A normal person would be able to shut their feelings off once they found out something so huge.
Not me.
I’m not normal.
My heart still cries for him.
All I can think of is how much he changed me in such a short time. He peeled back my layers and exposed all the colors and pixels I never knew existed, and now all that’s left are streaks of memories. They play on repeat in my mind like an old reel of film on a projector. They’re all warped and distorted now, but my sick mind finds beauty in the twisted images, and I don’t care if anyone else sees it or not.
The car ride home is just as quiet as the dinner was. When I get home, I rush to my room and peel out of my clothes. I know it’s wrong, but I put on Mars’s hoodie and sit in front of my easel.
Sadness oozes from my fingertips and out of the paintbrush as I continue working on my starry night painting. The stars in the sky seem to cry on the canvas. I pause for a beat and let my shoulders roll forward. It’s exhausting putting all of my emotions into my art.
I sit staring at the way the colors dance together. I’m jolted from my trance when my phone rings. When I see Mars’s name, the haze lifts from my brain. I press the phone to my ear and try not to smile too hard.
“Hey.” I tug the neck of his hoodie over my nose and try to smell any last bits of his scent.
“Hey, Sage. Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” I blink.
“How fast did you throw away that latte earlier?” He laughs and, oh God, it mends my heart. Tears cling to the rims of my eyes as I laugh along with him. I don’t let them fall though because right now I’m happy. I’ve cried enough tears to fill an ocean and for just one moment, I want to laugh.
I want to be pulled into Mars’s orbit and forget the rest of the world.
“So fucking fast,” I tell him. A smile burns my cheeks and pulls my lips up.
“I knew it. Latte snob.”
“I’m not a snob,” I sniff. “I just know what I want and nothing else will do.”
A pregnant pause fills the air. I’m sure he hears the double meaning in my words. I wonder if he’ll run far, far away from me.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” His words are soft, making me press the phone to my ear harder.
He’s not running.
We talk on the phone for an hour and things don’t feel so tense. They don’t feel normal either, but as long as we’re talking, I know they’ll get better.
The next day, I head straight to The Grind House after class lets out and grab my usual. I miss seeing Mars behind the counter, but I put on a happy face when I see Martina instead.
“Long time no see.” She pulls out a coffee cup and writes my name on it. I miss the little dragonfly Mars would draw on my cups.
“I’ve been busy,” I tell her.
“You can never be too busy for your favorite drink.” She steams the milk with a smile on her face. “Is everything okay, honey? I haven’t seen Mars lately either.” The smile fades from her face and I feel my palms tingle.
He hasn’t been to work?
“Yeah, everything is fine. No worries.” I try to smile but it’s weak.
“You tell Mars that he’s welcome back whenever he wants to come in.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him,” I say with a nod. “Thanks for the latte.” I pay her and as usual, I leave a generous tip.
When I get in the house, I hurry past Dad in the living room and up to my bedroom. I close and lock the door behind me and sit on the bed with my latte in one hand and my phone in the other.
When I tap Mars’s name, my skin buzzes. I try to quell the feeling by reminding myself he’s my fucking brother, but when I hear his voice the buzzing sensation grows.
“Hey,” he breathes like he rushed to get to the phone.
“Why haven’t you been going to work?” I blurt.
“Well, hello to you too, Sage,” he says with a chuckle.
“I’m serious.” My brows pinch together as I bring the coffee cup to my lips.
“I’m not really in the mood to go to work. Things haven’t exactly been great.” I hear the pain in his voice and it tugs at me. I set my drink down on the nightstand before kicking my shoes off and then pulling my knees up to my chest.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Well,” he sighs heavily. “I fell for the most beautiful, perfect girl in the whole fucking world and turns out I can’t have her. Ever.” His words kick me in the chest and I try to catch my breath from the blow. It’s not like I didn’t know what he would say, but hearing it out loud never gets easier.
“That fucking sucks,” I sniffle.
“That’s the understatement of the goddamn year. I’m trying to pull myself out of this but…it’s hard.” Things grow quiet between us for a few beats then Mars says, “Did your mom ever tell you anything else about her and my dad?”
The question makes my mouth turn to sand. I pull the hair tie from my bun and let my hair fall around my shoulders in messy waves. “She told me he never knew about me. She moved to Ashton Hills and never told him.”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.” I take another sip of my drink and somehow it reminds me of Mars. He makes them just as good as Martina does. “Has your dad given you any shit about it?”
“No. Ever since I confronted him, he’s barely here and when he is, he’s passed out drunk. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with his shit, but it makes me realize how lonely I am now.”
I shut my eyes against his words, because the last thing I need to picture is my Mars all alone without anyone who understands him.
Without me.
I look over at the painting on my easel and frown at how sad the stars look. “Me too,” I say quietly.
Even though it hurts like hell to work through the wreckage caused by our parents, we’re the only people we can talk to about it. We’re the only ones who understand without judgment.
So we keep talking because it’s all we can do.
Mars
“You’re going to be fine,” I assure her. “It’s not like your mom hasn’t ever dressed you up and paraded you around before. You’ll have your phone. If it gets too boring, text me.”
She huffs and puffs. I can’t help but grin. It’s been three weeks since the bomb was dropped about Sage being my half sister. Two weeks since we started talking again. That first week had been hell. I could barely breathe or function. School and work were not even on the table when I didn’t even know which way was up. I was spiraling so fast.
But then I spoke to her.
She seemed to reach through the phone and grab onto me. She kept me from spinning out into the void forever.
We can’t have what we want, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I still don’t have the balls to see her in person. I don’t know that I ever will. For now, texting and phone conversations have to be enough.
“I look like a little girl going to see The Nutcracker. All dressed up for her mommy,” she grumbles.
I laugh. “Show me.” Because I’m a sick fuck who still likes to look at you.
She switches the phone to Facetime and her room bobs in front of me as she makes her way over to her full-length mirror in her closet. When I see her reflection, I can’t help but gape.
“Sage…”
Her cherry-red dress is strapless and shows off the tops of her bouncy breasts, forming to her body until it gets to her hips. From there, it flares out in an obnoxiously over the top but still cute way. She’s wearing a pair of strappy heels that makes her seem so much taller.
“Let me see the back,” I say, my voice gruff.
She turns and my eyes drop to her sculpted calves. “What do you think?”
The camera screen gets flipped to where she’s facing me. Her lips are pouty and red, matching her pretty dress. Normally, she’s makeup free, but tonight her eyes are lined in black and her lashes are long and dark. My fingers twitch to reach through the phone and toy with a strand of her silky raven-colored hair that hangs smooth on either side of her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful,” I choke out.
Her green eyes flare at my words, and she rewards me with a breathtaking smile that makes my heart thunder in my chest. “Thank you.”
“Promise me something,” I murmur. “Enjoy yourself. Talk to other people your age.” I grit my teeth because it pains me to say it, but she needs to hear it. “And if a guy asks you to dance, then you dance, Sage. Understand?”
Her expression sours. “I don’t want to dance with anyone.”
Anyone but me.
The sentiment is mirrored in my own features.
“You have to,” I whisper.
The stubborn girl lifts her chin and lets out a heavy sigh. “We’ll see. I’m bringing my big purse because the second this dumb event is over, I’m changing into my jeans and hoodie.”
I laugh as I try to imagine her mom letting her out of the house with a big purse filled with her regular clothes. “Call me later. I want to hear how it went.”
“I’ll probably not even make it halfway through. I never do. These events are disasters waiting to strike.”
“The pouting is cute, Sage, but it doesn’t get you out of your duties.”
She snorts. “Now you sound like my mother.”
I flip her off and she giggles. All too soon, we’re saying goodbye.
I’m just toweling off from a shower and pulling on my jeans when my phone buzzes. I rush over to it hoping it’s Sage, but it’s Aunt Darcy.
Aunt D: How’s my boy?
Me: Hanging in there.
Aunt D: Good, I was worried. Jimmy told me you’ve been hit or miss with your schedule. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.
I’m far from okay, but what can I do?
Me: I’ll survive.
Aunt D: Life is about more than survival. It’s about living. My sister forgot to do that, but I’ll be damned if I allow her son to do the same.
I let out a heavy sigh and send her some thumbs-up emojis.
Aunt D: Cute. You know I don’t know how to make pictures on text, otherwise I’d be giving you the middle finger right now. You can’t blow me off.
Me: I’ll be fine, Aunt D.
Aunt D: How are things with you and Nathan?
I swallow down the bile in my throat. I can barely look at my father. I hate him so much.
Me: Same. Maybe worse. You know how Dad is.
Aunt D: I’ve been staying at Jimmy’s a lot. Haddock gets lonely. You want to keep up my place a little while I’m gone? The house could use some care and I know you like doing that sort of thing.
The desire to hide out at my aunt’s house burns wildly in my gut. So often, when I was a kid, her house was my great escape from my dad.
Me: Really?
Aunt D: I heard you’re flunking out of school because you haven’t shown up.
Fucking Collette. She has such a big mouth.
Me: I’m having a rough time, yeah.
Aunt D: You’re only staying with your dad because of school. Now that you’ve done gone and messed that all up, leave hon. Leave and get your bearings. I’ll be right up the road at Jimmy’s if you need me.
Emotion clogs my throat.
Me: Thank you. I love you Aunt D.
Aunt D: Love you too. The bar’s picking up. Talk at ya tomorrow.
It took all of thirty minutes to pack up my stuff. Thankfully, on one of the days after I came out of my depressing fog, I took the time to call Linus over to help me put in the new alternator and battery. I’m happy to say The Beast drives like a champion now. As I drive down to Aunt Darcy’s, I can feel some of the stress weighing on my shoulders lift. My mind drifts to Sage. Just because we’re related doesn’t mean I can’t be the shoulder she leans on. It’s cruel to deny her a relationship with someone who totally gets her. It’s cruel to me.
So what if we can’t kiss or be intimate?
Just having her in my life will be good enough for me.
I pull into Aunt Darcy’s driveway and unload all my shit. I take the guest room I always stay in and do a quick check of the house. Haddock, her sixteen-year-old Persian cat, limps after me and meows. I scratch him behind the ears and check his food bowl.
“You aren’t eating much these days, old man,” I tell him with a frown. The crunchy cat foot remains untouched. I dig around in her pantry until I find a can of the good stuff he likes. His meowing intensifies once I open the can and the scent permeates the air. “There you go.”
He whips his tail back and forth as he dives into his plate of rank soft cat food. I stifle a yawn as I root around in her fridge for something to eat. My phone starts ringing, startling me. When I see Sage’s name, I smile.
