“I wanted you to be the one to make me happy too. You being happy would make me happy, and I will do whatever it takes to make that happen, even if I have to break up with her.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Don’t do that. I want you to be happy. It will take time, but you deserve it.”
Aadi chooses that moment to come inside. He claps Smalls on the shoulder and we pull apart. They nod at each other, and Smalls slips outside and heads over to Sarah, whispering to her.The sight turns my stomach and makes me sick. I look away; I knew I didn’t like her.
“So you heard some of that then?” I say to my brother.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He sighs. “You’re grown up now and I need to accept that. But I will kill them. No one hurts my baby sister.”
“I’ll be fine, my heart is broken, but it will heal.”
“Smalls?” he questions.
“He’s my best friend.”
He nods, he isn’t stupid or blind.
“Things have always been blurry for us, but it’s time to draw a line...one we’re both clear about.”
Aadi looks at me, reading the hurt on my face, putting all the pieces together. Every single thing that seemed innocent, but wasn’t.
He opens the door and storms outside, going over to Smalls. Smalls knows what’s coming and braces. Aadi clenches his fist and throws a punch at him, and everyone gasps. Dad runs over and pulls Aadi away.
“It’s fine,” Smalls says.
“We’re good,” Aadi adds.
“I deserve it.”
Everyone looks at them like they’re crazy – even though that’s how issues are sorted here – our friends and family would never expect to see Aadi and Smalls communicating with fists.
It wouldn’t be Christmas without at least one punch being thrown. Aadi and Smalls will be good now. But what about me?
Chapter Two
Amelie
I’m listening to Slate’s CD quietly in my room the day after Christmas, when the doorbell rings. I don’t bother going to answer it; there’s enough people in the house that someone else will get there first. And, truth be told, I’ve been kinda hiding out in my room a lot. Aadi keeps knocking on my door and telling me to stop sulking, but I prefer to think of it as healing. Well, trying to anyway. Smalls has given me a wide berth, but that just hurts even more.
“Amelie,” my father calls out to me a few moments later. “Can you come down here please?”
I traipse downstairs, not too worried about being called down. It’s not unusual, and there have been a few people wanting to stop by and see me.
All colour drains from my face when I walk into the kitchen and see Sawyer standing there.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp.
“Amelie, your teacher is here.”
Way to go, pointing out the obvious Dad.
“Ex,” I say without thinking.
“Excuse me?”
“Ex teacher. You don’t work at the school anymore do you,MrKnox?”
