Victor drops his hands to his sides and I step back until the door knob pokes at my lower back. Distance heals all wounds.
I need distance.
“Why are you not telling Alek about what happened?” he asks.
“Because I want my freedom back. Alek is an overprotective big brother. He always has been. If he finds out about the stab wound, I’ll never be able to go out ever again. I’ve been a prisoner for the last three years. Stuck in the apartment with my mother. No way I’ll be stuck in your apartment with my brother now.”
The fighter in me has been awakened and she can’t let this happen.
“I know what it is to be a prisoner in your own home.”
His eyes hold sincere spark, twisting, twirling, turning something inside of me. He’s a complete stranger but has agreed to keep my secret safe for now, has cared for my wounds, and has calmed my body with one embrace. Knowing I am the reason Victor violates his friend code creates a dull pain in my chest.
First impressions lie. When I saw Victor downstairs, I never would have thought he could be so gentle. Maybe his angry-eyed bull tattoo and his Dwayne Johnson body size intimidate people before they get to know him. Maybe it’s on purpose?
He’s also persistent, and I can’t believe he almost coaxed the whole truth out of me. If Alek and Victor find out the truth, they’ll judge me for not leaving sooner and think I’m stupid to take on the abuse, but I have my reasons. I’ve been hiding secrets from Alek for so many years, I’m not about to give in to some handsome, sexy, gorgeous fighter.
Did I mention sexy?
Exhaustion overpowers my senses. It depletes any remaining oomph. All I want to do is to put in my earbuds and listen to relaxation music, tuningthisworld out and staying inmyworld—safe and happy.
But then I remember—the earbuds’ magic expired about three years ago. Since then, I haven’t been able to block out the world with music alone. There’s no tuning it out anymore.
“Hey, is everything okay up there?” Alek’s voice comes through the thin walls.
I don’t want him to become even more suspicious. “Yeah, coming,” I yell back.
I nod at Victor. “Thank you.”
With weak knees I take the stairs down to the first floor, holding the rail. Is Victor going to keep my secret for the time being?
The reasons for me to disappear pile up like a tragic, oncoming multicar collision.
Chapter Five
Islide my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and find the thin paper ticket. Mental note: rebook ASAP.
I fell in love with New Orleans in my high school history class this past year. Ms. Warrens enthusiastically mentioned that the friendliest people lived there. I believed her, or wanted to believe her, with every ounce of blood within me. That day I went to the library and did an extensive search on New Orleans. I could feel the pulse of the city from its mere descriptions in books, articles, and videos.
I chose New Orleans as my runaway destination because I want to live in a place where people share the pains of their city. The city has gone through the heartbreak of Hurricane Katrina. And survived. The city has suffered tremendous hardship. And persevered. I feel like I belong there, even though I’ve never visited.
My online research confirms that New Orleans is filled with welcoming people, delicious cuisine, awesome music, and memorable attractions like Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest. It’s everything I haven’t experienced in life. Everyone who ends up in New Orleans visits Café Du Monde and orders the famous beignets. New Orleans offers, at least as described online (so it must be true), everything I desire, and it’s far enough away from Los Angeles.
I’ll change my name, get a job—maybe even at Café Du Monde so I can eat free beignets—and escape the abusive monsters in my past. I’m prepared to sleep in parks—something I’ve already done while Mom had friends over. And until I find a job, I can stay in a shelter or a church to get food. Not all people are monsters. There’re good people out there too. I want to believe that. I must remember that.
Alek and Abi are sitting next to each other on the couch, thigh-to-thigh. Abi has her delicate hand on my brother’s knee and she’s whispering something soothing in his ear, his eyes shut, face soft. As soon as she spots me at the entrance, she gets up and walks to the kitchen. Alek opens his eyes.
“Twinkle, I need to talk to you about something.”
And I need to curl up in a ball and listen to music.
A tall table is near the kitchen countertop. The open space continues into the living room, combining the two areas into one. I don’t move closer to the couch, waiting expectantly for Alek’s question.
“You’re not moving into the dorms.” His voice reminds me of Mom’s when she’s drunk and barks orders at me.
I take a deep breath and hold it in for a moment.
“You’ve decided this? All by yourself.”
