On those words the conversation dies, and we spend the rest of the journey in silence as he drives me home.
He lets me leave his car with one last warning. “What happened tonight stays between you and me. Don’t forget. The future of your benefactor depends on you after all.”
I enter the lobby, slip into the elevator and once I reach the apartment door, I lock myself in. Slumping against the door, I hug my legs against my chest as I allow despair to wash over me.
31
Aoi
I walk on my tip toes in hopes of not waking Visha, who should already be asleep.
At times, he’ll wait for me to come back, so we can go to bed together and other times he’s already soundly asleep when I come home.
He acts like such a grown-up that sometimes I forget he’s only fifteen. He reminds me of myself when I was younger, yet at the same time, we’re so different. I’m grateful he’s more carefree and outgoing than I ever was.
Once a year, we visit the Keytons when an agent of social services comes to their house to check on Visha. In the last three years, we made three visits, and each was absolute hell for me, as much as for Visha but certainly worse for him.
I wanted to punch the arrogant smiles off their lips. He held my hand so hard the blood stopped circulating and he wouldn’t let go until the last minute when he had to enter that house and see those monsters again. I couldn’t be there with him. It would’ve made things more suspicious if each year the agent saw Visha cling to me, a stranger to the Keytons.
It broke me to see him run out of that house and into my arms every time. Now the 364 other days are paradise on Earth. We have joyful breakfasts, silly banter every day and Visha does his absolute best to organize movie nights with me every Saturday night.
I’ve never seen a teenager so hung up on hanging out with their parent and I love every second of it. Each smile I get from him is a gift I’m eternally grateful for. As long as he’s happy that’s all that matters.
Entering the bedroom door as quietly as I can muster, I get undressed. I jump at the muffled sound of sheets rummaging behind me. Visha sits up in the bed staring at me through tired and puffy eyes.
“Why are you only back now?” he mutters his tone sharper than I expected.
“Yeah, my bad I didn’t see the time fly by.”
Visha huffs like a pouty kid and I can’t hold back from laughing.
“Don’t tell me you’re upset because I’m home late.” I chortle, resting both hands on my hips.
He stares daggers at me and suddenly pulls me into bed with him. His gaze drifts over my features before he speaks up again, his tone softer, “You know I don’t like to sleep without you.”
I smile and ruffle his dark hair then get up to finish getting ready for bed. I still have to shower and put on my pajamas but I’m not tired in the least and genuinely feel like getting back to writing for a few hours.
“I’m here now so go back to sleep. I’ll be in my office.”
Visha grimaces and gets off the bed to follow me out of the room. I don’t ask what he’s doing because I already know. He sometimes hangs out with me until he grows tired and eventually drifts to sleep. I’ll never understand why he does that though.
I smile giddily and sneak into the shower with Visha right on my heels. At least his nonsense never changes.
“Can I at least shower in private?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Sure, but don’t stay in there for an hour. I wanna talk to you before bed.”
I roll my eyes at the absurdity and take my time shampooing myself. Less than five minutes later the door bursts open. “I told you not to take that long!”
I poke my head out of the shower curtain and scowl at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ve been here for barely five minutes. Be patient, Jesus Christ.”
I wait to hear the door shut behind him but that clacking sound never comes. Turning off the running water, I reach out behind the curtain. “Hand me a towel please.”
He instantly hands me the purple towel and waits near the door frame as I wrap the fabric around my waist. I wait for him to give me some privacy but of course that’s too much to ask.
“At least turn around, you brat.” I bite back the desire to flip him off.
Visha smiles and turns around as I dry myself and slip into a pair of light blue pajama pants. The pants hang low on my hips, revealing a burn scar from a cooking accident.
