Page 65 of Yearning Difficulties

‘Killian’s cousin. She just moved here.’

Logan was smart. Intimidatingly so. Everyone at school stepped to the side when he walked by. But in that moment, he looked strangely lost.

‘She goes to our school.’

It wasn’t a question. But I nodded. ‘Yeah.’

I fumbled in the glove compartment and handed him the physical CD case. He took it with unsteady hands and I stopped the car because I couldn’t watch his face and the road at the same time.

And I wanted to understand his reaction. Cherry’s voice was undeniably beautiful, but Logan had always been so stoic. I’d always known him to be so apathetic to everything around him.

Now his hands clutched Cherry’s album with more feeling than I’d ever seen in him.

When he spoke at last, his voice was a rasp. ‘Can I have this?’

‘Sure, Logan.’

He nodded and took a deep breath.

A part of me knew he would have taken it anyway. The request was just a polite formality.

I was alone in my bedroom when the storm came.

I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, wondering if I should text Cherry about the strange conversation with Logan in my car. It was almost eight at night and Regine was in my parents’ room. I could hear them speaking softly to her, trying to keep her calm as the wind howled and the windows rattled. When they closed their door, their voices cut off and I went back to studying.

I must have read the same sentence about fifteen times before I admitted to myself that none of it was going in. As the rain started to come down, I walked over to my window. I watched from our small apartment above Ma’s shop as Lake Pristine became covered in sheets of water. The drops bounced off the pavement and the wind continued to shake and rattle anything that wasn’t stable. The Halloween decorations had been scattered by the storm and all of the wood pigeons that usually pottered about the streets were in hiding.

The town was pretty deserted, but at that moment a car approached from the north road. I recognized Chris as the driver and I frowned as he parked beneath my window, stepping out into the downpour. I shook my head in disbelief and slid my window open.

‘What’re you doing?’ I hissed down at him.

He shielded his eyes from the rain. ‘My parents are out of town until Tuesday. I’m going to stay at Anderson’s. You should go be with Killian.’

I stared down at him. ‘No.’

‘Zella. He misses you. You’re both being stubborn. He’s all bruised up from what happened yesterday. He needs a . . . friend.

‘I’ll drop you off on my way to Andy’s,’ he added, imploring me with his sweet, open face. ‘Please, Zee.’

Twenty-Three

You Don’t Know Anything

Today’s Track: ‘Picture in a Frame’ by Tom Waits

Killian’s front door was unlocked. I could hear Tom Waits blasting from somewhere in the house. Chris gave me an encouraging smile before driving away and so I let myself inside. It was warm and cosy, despite the size of the rooms and the height of the ceilings. When I closed the door behind me, the storm was shut out. The howling stopped and the wind and the rain were no longer assaulting my senses.

‘Kill?’

The music stopped. I waited by the door and then, when nothing more happened, I started to climb the stairs. There were numerous rooms on the upper floor of the house but I instinctively moved towards the one with tons of band stickers on the door. I knocked and waited.

When he answered, he was wearing blue jeans and a fitted white tee. He had dark circles under his eyes and his mop of black hair was slightly mussed. He didn’t look overly surprised to see me. In fact, he barely reacted to the sight of me.

‘Your brother was worried about you being alone,’ I finally offered up defensively, when the silence had stretched on for too long.

He exhaled. ‘Yes, it’s so dangerous in this structurally sound house with double-glazed windows and battened-down hatches.’

‘Kill.’