Underneath the Sycamore Tree

by Celeste, B.

  “Want to watch a movie?”

  A movie?

  Glancing at the time on my alarm clock, I give him a curious look. “Usually you’re…”

  A small smirk quirks his lips. “Gone?”

  Blushing, I say, “Yeah.”

  It isn’t like I actively wait to catch him sneaking out, but I can’t help it when insomnia plagues me after a long day of napping from fatigue. It’s better than watching the neighbor’s cat lick itself in their lawn, or the stray dog down the road sniff around for food.

  “Don’t feel like going out.”

  I just nod.

  “So?” He pushes off the frame. “Movie?”

  Surprisingly, I’m not tired. The headache that likes to grace me with its presence hasn’t bugged me in almost two days, and besides a little hip pain, I feel decent.

  “Can I change first?” I don’t feel like watching a movie in my scratchy jeans, and even though I’m toasty warm in my sweatshirt, the drawstrings will probably choke me to death if I fall asleep in it.

  He tells me he’ll grab his laptop while I change, so I quickly grab a pair of gray Hollister sweatpants and a long sleeve white shirt before washing up and getting ready for bed. Not bothering to run a brush through my staticky hair, I give myself a quick onceover in the mirror to make sure my face isn’t too red. It isn’t like I care what Kaiden thinks but having someone close to you with a lupus rash on your cheeks and nose is like them getting to see your acne breakout close up. It’s embarrassing.

  Noticing some blood on the toilet paper after finishing my business, I realize I must have somehow forgotten my birth control pill at some point this week. Grandma took me to get the pill two years ago to regulate my period and I take it religiously along with my other meds, so it’s odd to have forgotten after all this time. Hoping I won’t get a second period for the month since they like to trigger flares, I finish up and head back into my room.

  Kaiden has made himself comfortable on my bed. His black shorts look more like exercise wear than something to sleep in, but he looks comfortable, and the tight blue tank shows off muscular arms I didn’t quite know he had. It shouldn’t surprise me. I hear Rachel and her posse drone on about how much time the jocks spend in the weight room after school.

  “What do you want to watch?”

  I’m hesitant to climb onto the empty spot beside him. He’s already sprawled across the usual side I sleep on, and he looks like he has no plans on moving any time soon. He’s scrolling through Netflix and waiting for a reply, which has yet to come as I stare.

  “Well, Mouse?”

  “Can you not call me that?”

  “It’s fitting. Plus, you like it.”

  I do. “Not really,” I murmur.

  He pats the bed. “Come on, I could call you far worse. I’m sure you have plenty of nicknames for me.”

  My face heats over some of the choice words my mind conjures. He snickers when he sees me, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. It doesn’t seem to bother him, so I force myself on the bed and sit cross legged.

  “None of that Disney shit,” he warns, passing me the laptop.

  It looks old. The letters are worn down, some of them not even visible anymore on the keys. There are scratches on the screen, an area on the bottom right that looks like held a few different stickers, and a missing key off to the side of the board.

  “I’ve had it for a while.” My eyes meet his, but his are trained on the laptop that I have draped on my lap.

  My fingers run across the sticker residue. It looks like it’s shaped a certain way, so it can’t be the branding the company uses on display models.

  Kaiden clears his throat. “Used to have Power Rangers stickers on there. Like I said, it’s fucking old.”

  “Why not get a new one?”

  He pauses. “My dad got it for me.”

  “Oh.” Instead of dwelling, I start searching through the different categories. It always takes longer to find something to watch than it does to actually watch it.

  I point toward a comedy. “What about this one? It has Adam Sandler in it.”

  I’m not sure what he likes, but he didn’t specify about preference. He just nods and has me start it, then rests it between us and angles the worn screen so there’s no glare.

  For the first twenty minutes, I’m fine staying seated with my legs crossed. After thirty passes by, I can’t feel either ankle and need to stretch out my legs.

  Kaiden cusses and moves the laptop out of the way before turning his attention to me. “I can’t keep watching you fidget. It’s distracting me from this borderline awful movie.”

  “You could pick something else.”

  “I’m invested now.”

  Rolling my eyes, I wince as my stiff knees crack and extend out. They feel better once straightened, so I stack a couple pillows behind me and scoot back against them.

  “Are you finally comfortable?”

  “Not when you’re in here,” I mutter, not really meaning to say the words out loud.

  He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Mouse. I don’t do virgins.”

  I gape at him. “Wh…how…you can’t just say stuff like that! And what does that even mean? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Now he’s full on laughing, leaning back and shaking the mattress with his rumbles.

  I smack his chest. “You’re going to wake up our parents. Be quiet.”

  “What?” he muses, grinning. “Are you afraid they’re going to find us alone in your room together? What will Daddy Dearest think?”

  He’s making fun of me.

  I reach for his laptop and start to close it, but he stops me with a heavy sigh. “Would you relax? They don’t care. It isn’t like I’m some random guy in your bed.”

  My brows go up to say, aren’t you?

  He bumps my arm with his elbow. “I already told you, I’m not going to ravish you. You’re not my type, Mouse.”

  My eye twitches. “I’m sure.”

  Restarting the movie, I go to focus solely on that when he pauses it again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What?”

  “You look pissed.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Don’t bullshit me.”

  I sigh loudly. “All I’m saying is that I’ve heard the rumors at school. You’re the man whore sports star who can get any girl he wants. I’m not surprised I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “Because…?”

  Is he kidding me? “For one, I’m your stepsister. For another, I don’t look anything like the girls I see you flirting with. Oh, and regardless of you insisting you don’t hate me, you’re not the friendliest person to me either.”

  He shifts his body toward me. “Firstly, I don’t really do the label thing, so don’t call yourself my stepsister, Cinderella. Secondly, you’re right. You need to gain at least thirty pounds to look like the girls I hang around, and thirdly, I’m not friendly toward anyone.”

  I guess he has a point about his demeaner toward people, so there’s no point in arguing it. Before I can even try, he’s tilting my chin up with two of his fingers and grinning wickedly. I hate the tingly feeling I get in the pit of my stomach from the contact, or how my heart goes into overdrive when I see his dark eyes lighten when they’re up to no good.

  I tell myself it’s because I’m not used to people touching me like this—being close. I’d react this way to anybody who would do the same thing. Yet, my brain tells me otherwise. I could meet someone tomorrow who would dare to defy Kaiden’s instructions just to speak to me, and I wouldn’t feel airy and light and nervous and numb all at the same time with them.

  “Frankly,” Kaiden murmurs in a tone so low it caresses my skin, “the only reason I’m not going to fuck you senseless is because I’ve seen what one little touch does. Imagine what I’d do to your body if I got between those pretty little legs of yours.”

  I stop breathing.

  “I’d ruin you, Em.”
>
  My eyes widen.

  Then I blink.

  I’d ruin you first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kaiden leaves shortly after his brazen remark. It leaves me bothered in a lot more ways than I anticipate, so I brush it off by picking up a book and reading until I fall asleep.

  Unfortunately, I dream of Kaiden. And not in a friendly or brotherly way. I dream about him like I’d dream of one of my many book boyfriends who want to devour and claim me and love me in ways Kaiden certainly doesn’t.

  And that’s…well, that’s a problem.

  A big problem.

  Because he may not do labels, but I do.

  Like stepbrother.

  And stepmother.

  And fatal.

  Fatal attraction.

  Fatal affection.

  Fatal disease.

  He thinks he’ll ruin me, but he has no idea what unstoppable forces are in my arsenal. I’m my own weapon, a nightmare that lives in reality. It isn’t something I can control, and he has no idea. I don’t think getting close to him will do any good, whether it’s friendly or not.

  If he still struggles with his father’s death, what would mine do to him?

  I’m not sure I want to find out.

  For once, I wish I was seeing Mama’s teary golden eyes instead of Kaiden Monroe. I wish I was listening to Lo’s playful laughter instead of Kaiden’s husky words. Wishes don’t come true though, because this isn’t some fairytale.

  It’s reality.

  And reality is a mean bitch.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tomorrow is the day before October break and everyone is loud and eager to have a week off. I already heard at least half the senior class mention skipping tomorrow and starting early, especially because Halloween is on Saturday. Apparently parties are common for the holiday, costume or not, and I even heard one guy mention going out after midnight redecorating people’s houses with toilet paper and who knows what else.

  When Mr. Nichols realizes he doesn’t have everyone’s attention at Book Club, he reminds us to start reading the next book for the week after break and then lets us go. Considering it’s my selection, I probably won’t spend a lot of time gathering quotes and ideas for discussion, especially since Dad agreed to take me to Mama’s for the week.

  Honestly, I’m nervous. I called Grandma asking if she thought it’d be okay, and she seemed excited. That doesn’t mean Mama will feel the same, and I’m not sure how she’ll react when she sees me.

  It’ll be good. That’s what I keep telling myself. It gives me time back home to visit with everyone, especially Logan. Plus, it gives me a chance to breathe. Things with Dad haven’t been bad, but that doesn’t extend to Kaiden.

  Ever since our impromptu movie night, he finds ways to make me blush—winks, hand brushes, crude comments. Usually, he doesn’t pay me much attention if we’re both home. He does his thing and I do mine. Once in a while he’ll barge into my room while I’m doing homework and ask me pointless questions, pestering me because he can.

  It makes Cam smile.

  You’re like siblings, she told me.

  I haven’t gone to the tree since that day either. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve gone to school with him, drove home with him, and locked myself away in my room. It never stops him if he wants my attention, and I can’t help but wonder what the point of it is.

  When the late bus drops me off in front of the house, I’m tired and ready to change into my sweatpants for the evening. To my surprise, the front door is locked and the key on my chain is missing. Strange. Thankfully, I vaguely remember Dad telling me that there was a spare key hidden somewhere.

  It takes a long moment to search through the fogginess of my memory before I’m looking under the rim of the flowerpot he mentioned it being under.

  Nothing.

  I check another one.

  Nothing again.

  Sighing, I turn and knock on the door. Kaiden’s car is here, so he must have gotten done in the weight room early. I wait a minute before knocking louder until my knuckles hurt. The doorbell doesn’t work. Cam keeps saying she’ll get it fixed, but never calls anyone.

  I back up and glance at the windows, trying to see if there’s a light on. There doesn’t seem to be, so I go around the back to check the glass door leading to the kitchen.

  Someone locked the fence door.

  I don’t remember it ever being locked.

  My phone died twenty minutes ago, so I can’t call anyone. I’m not even sure what the home number is here, because I never hear it ring. I’m pretty sure the landline is there for decoration only, because I see Dad and Cam on their cell phones more than not.

  They’ll come home soon and rescue me from the chilly air that’s beating against my skin. My fall jacket is nothing more than a protection against a subtle breeze, but it does nothing against the nip of air that’s getting colder as the minutes pass.

  I sit on the front steps and tuck my knees against my chest for warmth.

  Five minutes pass.

  Ten.

  Fifteen.

  The tips of my fingers are starting to go numb, and I notice the discoloration of a few. They’re turning blue. Lo had something like this when it got too cold. Her circulation wouldn’t work right, and her fingers and toes would turn a deep purple until she got them warm again.

  I try sitting on them to heat them up, but wince at how tender the joints are. Sharp pain shoots down my wrists and settles into my elbows, causing me to tear up. My jaw quivers as the breeze hits me, and there’s nothing blocking it from hitting where I sit in front of the door.

  After what feels like forever, Dad pulls in. He seems stunned I’m sitting there, and quickly gets out with his work bag and a small frown on his face.

  “Emery?” When he gets closer, his eyes widen at my shaking form. I can’t sit still. My nose is numb, my cheeks sting, and my hands are now swollen and blue despite sitting on them for over half the time I’ve waited for somebody.

  He cusses under his breath and quickly drops his things to peel off his coat. It’s thicker than mine and feels like heaven when he drapes it over my shoulders.

  “I g-got l-locked out,” I stutter, forcing myself to stand. The cold already settled into my joints, causing both my knees to lock up and make it difficult to get out of his way to unlock the door.

  He looks at me with concern lingering in his eyes, and it warms a part of my chest that I didn’t think a glance from him could. “Isn’t Kaiden home? Did you forget the spare?”

  I shake my head, too cold to answer. As he pushes the door open, I hear music and giggling and something crash. Dad swears as he guides me in, putting an arm around my shoulder and rubbing my arm for friction.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Dad has never sounded so angry before, and the bite to his tone even has me wincing.

  Not as much as when I look at Kaiden and Rachel in the kitchen. He’s covered in flour, she’s sitting on the island, and it looks like whatever they were trying to bake has more ingredients on the floor than the bowl or pan.

  The music playing is coming from a distance, the basement by the sounds of it. Rachel brushes hair behind her ear and glances down, like she can’t meet Dad’s eye.

  Kaiden looks at me. “What’s up with you?” He glances at the clock and makes a face like he’s surprised at something. “Aren’t you usually home earlier?”

  Rachel slides off the counter. “I should probably get going. It was fun, Kaid.” She kisses his cheek and gives me a once over before gliding past us toward the door.

  Dad’s grip on me becomes protective. “I have a lot of things I’d like to say to you right now, but Cam isn’t home. What I’m concerned about is the fact Emery was locked outside, half-freezing, while you made…brownies?” He eyes the mess, jaw tight. “You better clean up this mess now and apologize to Emery.”

  “D-Dad—”

  Dad turns to me. “You need to go take a hot shower and warm
up.” His eyes catch something on the side table by the kitchen entrance. Keys. Two of them. One of them has a little pink protector on the top that matches the missing one from my keychain. “Why the hell are the keys to the front door inside?”

  My lips part.

  Did Kaiden purposefully lock me out?

  My nostrils flare and for once I do what Dad tells me to without much thought. Leaving them to argue, which Dad quickly starts doing as soon as I’m out of view, I close myself in my room. It takes a bit for my muscle and joints to cooperate enough to peel my clothes off, but once my body hits the hot water and steam in the shower, I finally start to ease.

  Until I realize what Kaiden did.

  Then anger settles where the stiffness did.

  As the water cascades over me, the shakes turn into something entirely different. I’m sore, bitter, and emotional. I thought Kaiden and I were becoming friends, if not something close to that.

  I don’t realize I’m crying until I let the water hit my back and feel the teardrops slide down my cheeks. Brushing them away, I run my fingers through my hair and wince at the way my shoulders tighten from the movement.

  Resting my arms to the sides, I notice what’s wrapped around a few of my fingers.

  Hair.

  Lots of it.

  More tears.

  More anger.

  Not just at Kaiden.

  At life.

  He’s there when I step out of the bathroom, wet hair, sweatpants, oversized sweatshirt, and all. No longer is he sporting his dirty clothes, but something new as he sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his jean-clad thighs.

  I don’t say a word.

  “Are you okay?”

  I want to ask him why he cares.

  I don’t grace him with anything.

  “You look a little better.”

  I scoff.

  If he only knew how triggering those words really are. I’ve heard people talk about my image for too many years. On days when you feel closer to death than ever they’re a blow to the gut. It’s always about looks. You either don’t look sick enough for anyone to believe you, or you look so sick people feel the need to point it out.