I open the door just as Nash sits on the bed with her. He has his back to me and doesn’t seem to know I came in or has decided to ignore me.
“What happened, Sades?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, head in her arms, lying on her stomach. Nash rubs her back, trying to soothe her. He’s a lot of things, especially with me, but I’m not sure there’s a brother in this world who loves his sister as much as he does. My heart pinches at the thought, the longing there growing.
“Come on. You can always talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong,” he tells her. As angry as he makes me, as hurt as I am by him, my heart breaks for Nash too. There’s nothing he wouldn’t try to fix for her if he could.
Sadie rolls to her side, her face streaked with tears. Her gaze catches on me, then shoots back to Nash.
My gut tightens, nausea rolling around in there. “I can go, if you’d like. It’s okay if you only feel comfortable speaking with Nash, but I’d like to help too, if I can. We’re…family.” There was no one there to take care of me. I spent most of their lives not taking care of them either, but I’m trying now.
“You can stay,” she says softly, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her legs.
Nash scowls at me.
“Some girls at school were making fun of my hair because I don’t know how to do it.” She doesn’t look at either of us, instead staring at her bed as if she can’t bring her eyes to look anywhere else. “They were being mean, is all. It’s fine.”
“I’ll call the school,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “What are their names?”
“No!” Sadie shouts, panicked. “You can’t do that. It’ll only make it worse!”
“Fuck them. Who cares what they think?” Nash says.
But it’s not always that easy to ignore bullying. I know from experience. Maybe Nash is better at it than I’d been or maybe he’s never had to deal with it.
“Kids can be mean.” I slowly make my way into the room. “I was relentlessly bullied when I was younger, and Sandra…she didn’t do anything about it. I don’t want to do the same with you.” I stop beside the bed, watching them.
“You were bullied too?” Sadie asks.
“I was. For being poor, for not having nice clothes, for not always being as clean as I should have been. And as I got older because I’m…different.”
“Different how?” Sadie asks. Nash watches me but doesn’t speak.
“I just…can get a little obsessive about things. I was quiet. I never broke any rules. I always had to have my pencils set a certain way on my desk, and they would come by and knock them down or make them crooked and then tease me as I tried to fix it.” My breathing is getting heavier, my chest tightening, but I do my best to push through. “I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”
“Please don’t call the school, James. It’ll be okay. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with it before. I won’t ever tell you anything again if you call them.” She tightens her hold on herlegs, then looks down again.
“Okay, I won’t, but only if you promise to tell me if it happens again. I’ll make sure they deal with it without it coming down on you. Do you promise?”
Sadie nods.
“We can practice braiding again.” Nash fingers her hair, making me realize this is another way I’ve let her down—another way I’ve let them both down. I’ve seen him wash her hair and know they’ve worked on it together, but how have I tried to help? All I did was buy some good leave-in conditioner.
“I’ll call some salons and get you an appointment.”
Her gaze shoots to me, her eyes wide and glassy. “Really?”
Her excitement makes my heart break. I should have done this earlier. Someone should have done this in her life. Even more importantly, Sandra should have taken the time to learn how, and to teach Sadie.
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Thank you.”
I freeze when she pushes off the bed and wraps her little arms around my waist, hugging me. She smells like strawberries, and I wonder if that’s the scent of the conditioner I bought. Her hold on me tightens, but I’m not sure what to do, so I just pat her back in this awkward way I’m ashamed of.
“Of course. I’m your brother. I want to help.”
When my gaze catches Nash’s, I see his glare, see the anger, and…is there hurt mixed in too?
