Mother held the strap of her brown leather bag with a white knuckled grip, her green eyes hard and unkind.
Her gaze bounced between Kenzo and I, then her jaw clenched daintily. This was a friendship she had tried so hard to break but it didn’t work. Now she just fumed silently and wouldn’t comment on it.
“Go and get your things,” she ordered in a clipped tone. “I’ll drop you off at home then head back to work.”
She didn’t wait for me to ask questions. Her heels clicked as she headed down the hall.
I felt a sudden warmth on my back, heat grazing over my skin.
“You don’t have to go with her,” Kenzo said, hugging me from behind, head on my shoulder. “I could drop you off.”
“Don’t worry,” I forced out a smile. “It’s okay.” Except that it wasn’t. She told me not to get too comfortable with men. But I did, and that landed me in a hot mess.
If only I hadn’t slipped into Rowan’s classroom after school yesterday. If only I had just stood by the door and waved him goodbye, Miss. Robinson, the English teacher, wouldn’t have caught us in a compromising position. She wouldn’t have had any story to tell the disciplinary committee.
I had made a mess of everything. I had embarrassed Mother. Disappointed her.
She would have to straighten me out again…she always did.
And later that night, when she got back home, she did–straightened me out.
The first slap rang in my ears. The rest blurred together. Maybe ten? Fifteen? I stopped counting when my face no longer felt like mine. Then she locked me in the room for 72 hours.
No food.
No cell phone.
One bottle of water.
One holy Bible.
2
ZAGHAN
Forest eyes. Fire hair.
After 10 minutes of strolling aimlessly, I finally sat by the window side of a random coffee shop I stumbled across, the low hum of chatters drifting through the cozy air.Annoying.
Nearly everyone perched on the worn wooden chairs had a novel in hand. They were all fucking reading, the steam from their coffee long vanished.Pathetic.
Places like this one were what Callan would call heaven. I could almost picture my twin brother walking into the room, a gust of wind following him in. He did love to make an entry, even though he hated the attention.
The shop had a moody atmosphere reminiscent of academia. And Callan was especially fond of books, particularly those featuring students stuck in a mysterious school practicing witchcraft or unravelling dark mysteries.
Maybe he had been here before…or a lot of times. Maybe that was what led me here. I passed over a hundred coffee shops. But somehow, I made a stop at this one.
Indeed, my brother and I weren’t so different after all. Perks of sharing the same womb, I supposed.
“Here’s your order, sir.” A lanky boy who was only a sliver of chance shy of albinism appeared with a tiny tray holding a steaming cup. The smell of roasted coffee invaded my nostrils, calming my tense nerves.Now, that wasPerfect.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“You’re welcome, sir.” He disappeared from the table, and my fingers immediately curled around the handle of the mug.
But the rim of the China ware had barely touched my lips when the tiny bell above the door chimed, cutting sharply through the distant hiss of the espresso machine.
I didn’t acknowledge the person. And instead, brought the cup to my mouth, a slow sip, savoring the taste before this new addition would turn this gathering into a crowd. We were already ten in the room. Eleven was excessive.
