Underneath the Sycamore Tree

by Celeste, B.

  We all have it. We just might not all think we do because it’s buried under layers of pain and depression and anxiety. The truth is, you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.

  So, I lock my door after going back upstairs and settle under the warm blankets. Only a faint lingering scent of pine and cedar remain on the empty side of the bed, so I turn my back on it and close my eyes.

  I rarely lock my door.

  I could fall and nobody could get in.

  I could struggle getting out of bed.

  That’s not the real truth though.

  I didn’t want to stop Kaiden, and knowing how he acted makes me hate myself for getting attached to any form of possibility with him. Friend or not, stepbrother or not, I was starting to like him—trust him.

  Go figure it was a waste of time.

  The tears dry before they fall, giving me one more ounce of strength I didn’t know I could conjure with my chest hurting the same way my head does.

  When I wake up in the morning, a familiar scent is kissing my skin from close behind. A nose presses against the back of my neck, with a warm breath tickling my skin and making me hyperaware of who’s spooning me right now like last night was a dream.

  I squirm out of his hold, but he tightens his arm around me and drags me back against his chest. “I want you to meet my father.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Based on the time on the dashboard, there’s a silent understanding between us that we won’t make it to school today. I’d already planned on skipping, hoping by Monday morning nobody remembers my little mishap from Thursday.

  I’m not sure why I agreed to come with him, but before my conscience could get me to rethink things, I was bundled in layers and following him outside. Not before noticing my bedroom door was perfectly intact, making me think Kaiden’s skills stretch to picking locks.

  Not that it surprises me.

  What does surprise me is when Kaiden pulls into the cemetery we’ve spent so much time in. He doesn’t take the normal path that leads to the fenced off clearing, but one that takes us to a huge gathering of stones.

  Considering there was a chain covering two of the three entrances to the cemetery, I’m fairly certain we’re not supposed to be here. Snow covers the pavement, but not enough to get stuck. The walkways aren’t cleared off and most of the stones are surrounded by snowdrifts that would make it difficult to get to.

  Kaiden shuts the car off and stares out his window without a word.

  I blink, glancing at the line of stones he’s staring at. “Your father is buried here?”

  He nods once.

  Running my tongue across my bottom lip, I study the area around us. “You visit him a lot, don’t you?”

  He hesitates. “It’s how I found the tree. I would come here all the time and yell at the asshole until I needed to take a walk. One night, I climbed the fence and found the spot. It’s my favorite place to go.”

  “Because you’re close to him?”

  He doesn’t deny it.

  Unbuckling and opening the door, he leaves me to walk through the packed snow. It crunches under his boots. I can hear as much from where I sit watching him.

  Giving him a moment, I see him kneel in front of a stone in the middle of the lineup. He brushes his bare hand against the front, dusting off the snow sticking to it. After a few moments, I finally get out of the car, adjusting my hat over my ears and walking over to him.

  I notice slightly filled in footprints from the other side of the stone, like someone else was here. Does Cam visit him too? It dawns on me when I notice the prints are identical to the fresh ones he made. There was no new snowfall since yesterday afternoon.

  “You came here last night,” I whisper.

  He stands, brushing off excess snow from his hands. “He grounds me in ways nobody else can. There’s no way he can judge me for anything.”

  “He just listens,” I say for him.

  He hums in agreement.

  Like me with Lo, he talks to his father. I thought he ignored everything about the man, but he probably spends more time here than he does his own bedroom.

  Especially since he sleeps in mine.

  Rubbing my arms, I study the engraving under his name. It’s a generic loving husband and father, which Kaiden must know I’m staring at.

  He laughs dryly. “Funny, right? Cam ordered the stone for him. They weren’t even married by then. The whole thing is a joke.”

  I stare at him, wondering if he’s joking or not. He doesn’t look bemused though. He’s deflecting.

  “Stop calling her that.”

  “That’s her name,” he deadpans.

  “She’s your mom.”

  No reply.

  I sigh. “You saw how me and my mother are, Kaiden. We don’t have a perfect relationship. We’ve been through a lot because of what happened to Logan and, yes, what’s happening to me. Because like it or not, I am sick. She hasn’t taken it well but that doesn’t mean I take it out on her.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Shrugging, I tuck my hands in my pockets and watch my breath in front of me. “I don’t see the point. We can’t change what’s been said or done. If we spend all the time on the negative, we’ll be angry for the rest of our lives. Why let it consume us?”

  His head turns to me. “How could you just let it go? Your mother hurt you.”

  I close my eyes and inhale the burning air, letting it fill and sting my lungs. “I hurt her just as much. Don’t you understand by now?” I whisper, opening my eyes back up. “We get one life. One chance. One opportunity to live. Why should I spend that in more pain than I already do? Anybody can hurt me, but if I choose not to let them I can find some solace in what life has given me. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

  For a split second, I see awe in his features. It disappears in a blink of an eye, but it was there. It gives me hope that I’m breaking through, like maybe he’s starting to get it.

  “Why did you come here last night?” I ask before he can say anything.

  His brows furrow.

  I elaborate. “There must be a reason. You could have gone anywhere, right? To a friend’s house or something. You chose to come here.”

  His eyes go back to his father’s grave, contemplating his answer. I think he trains his focus on the chipped edges from weathered wear, because they don’t move from that area once. “You find solace in the living. I find it in the dead. Like I said, he can’t judge me when I come here. It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole I am, it’s just me and my dad when I visit.”

  Is that an apology? In his own freakish way, I think it is. Not that I’ll squander the moment by asking, because something tells me he’ll deny it.

  I fight off a smile. “And what did you and your dad talk about?”

  He doesn’t look at me. “You mentioned a while ago that watching people suffer from disease is tough. You weren’t just talking about my dad or your sister, were you?”

  Slowly, I shake my head. “For the record, Cam was wrong when she said it wasn’t any of your concern. I moved into your home, your old bedroom, so I made it your business.”

  His tongue clicks. “Your sister died from what you have…”

  I hear his unspoken question. “Any of us could die tomorrow, Kaiden. People die all the time. Does that mean I’m going to die from lupus? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”

  His eyes narrow. “Lupus? That’s what you have?”

  I nod.

  “And there’s no answers?”

  “Regarding my mortality?”

  He grumbles.

  Trying to give him a reassuring smile doesn’t seem to work because it probably ends up looking more sad than anything. “You want to know a secret? Sometimes I would think about how I’d be better off dead. I wouldn’t hurt Mama anymore or be in pain and I could be with Lo. I won’t lie, Kaiden. Things were really bad for a while. I was hospitalized for days, sometimes we
eks at a time. I go through depressive stages when I’m at my worst because I have to accept my body is failing me. It’s…” Not knowing what else to do, I shrug. “I’ve never told anybody that before.”

  He visibly swallows hard. “Do you still think that?”

  Do I? I have my moments where I want to escape it all. I used to think they were moments of weakness, but I think they were just moments of humanity. We all want peace, salvation. Lo got peace. Kaiden’s dad got peace. Why not me? Am I deserving of all this suffering?

  “No,” I answer carefully. “I think things happen for a reason. The medicine I’m on helps the inflammation, which can be the biggest problem. It’s about balance. Eating right, finding ways to stay active, and remembering not to overdo it.”

  He puts his hand to the top of his father’s grave. “Do you think he was afraid?”

  No elaboration is needed. “I think when he got to a certain point, fear eluded him.”

  “Like he welcomed death?”

  I shake my head, stepping closer to him and putting my hand on his arm. “Welcomed relief, Kaiden.”

  Before he can say anything else, my phone goes off in my pocket. When I pull it out, Cam’s name flashes across the screen. Answering it, I step away and give Kaiden time with his father.

  Her bubbly voice greets me. “You’ve got a spot to see a neurologist today at one o’clock. I’m leaving work early to go with you, okay? Your dad offered, but I thought it’d be easier since I already know him. Dr. Aberdeen is a good man. He’ll help you.”

  Dad offered to leave work for me?

  I glance at Kaiden as he speaks in murmurs to his father’s gravestone. Clearing my throat and turning my back to him for privacy, I say, “I appreciate that, Cam.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll pick you up at the house okay? I can call the school and get them to allow you to go—”

  “Uh, that won’t be necessary.”

  There’s a pause. “You’re not at school?”

  My lips twitch. “I’m sort of at the cemetery with Kaiden. He’s…he’s at Adam’s stone right now. I think he needed it after what happened last night. He loves him a lot.”

  This time when she answers, her tone is lighter than before. “He’s not the only one.”

  Not sure what she means, I tell her I’ll see her later before ending the call. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I walk back over to Kaiden.

  “Do you mind if we go? I’m a bit cold.”

  He gives me a single nod before guiding us over to the car. After getting in and thawing out, he turns to me. “I never bring anyone here.”

  Huh?

  He’s not the only one…

  I thought maybe Cam meant she loved Adam too. It makes sense, since he’s the father of her only child. But maybe…maybe she meant Kaiden loved someone else.

  But she couldn’t mean me.

  Right?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  For the first time in months, I feel human. It’s so foreign that I cry. Not because I’m in pain, but because I don’t remember what it’s like not to be.

  Dr. Aberdeen and my rheumatologist theorized that the medication I was on for my inflammation was causing the migraines. Between switching to a different prescription that still helps combat my symptoms, on top of an additional new pill to ease any oncoming headaches, I’m a new person.

  To celebrate, Kaiden surprises me by driving us to a small restaurant after school on Friday. It’s much homier than Le Sal’s, with a laidback atmosphere that I love. The way he speaks to the hostess makes me wonder if he comes here a lot.

  He reaches down and weaves our fingers together, sending shock waves up my arm until my heart reacts by pumping faster. When he leads us to the back without the hostess, I know he must have planned this ahead. Our table is separated from the rest, furthest from the subtle noise of early dinner conversations.

  “You don’t like noise,” he prompts, when he sees me looking around the half-empty room.

  Nibbling my lip, I give him a timid smile.

  Shortly after opening up to him about my disease, I saw him googling it and reading various articles on causes and symptoms. He would close out of anything if he saw me looking over at him from my homework and give me lip about what a nerd I am or how messy my hair looked at that moment.

  Anything to make it look like he doesn’t care, when there’s no doubt in my mind he does. It’s in the little things he does like putting an extra blanket over me after I fall asleep, or telling Dad and Cam I can’t go out to eat at certain places because their food isn’t something I’m supposed to eat when I’m too shy to tell them myself. He leaves me silly pictures everywhere from my dresser to bathroom mirror—post-its with cartoon images like kissing lips and frozen yogurt and a sun with shades on.

  He doesn’t pester me to take my medication like Dad or remind me to get more rest on the nights I have enough energy to stay up and get ahead on homework or read. He let’s me live my life and supports whatever I choose to do with it.

  The other night we stayed up making brownies. Double chocolate. I ate way too much batter until my stomach hurt, and then promptly ate way too many warm brownies as we watched a few movies. Things have been great. Fun, even.

  After a waitress gets our drink order, we’re left alone to look over the menu. I smile when I see the array of options, debating on one of their cheapest salads just to see what he’ll say.

  Surely he won’t throw my plate on the floor here and demand I order a pizza.

  I look at him staring at his menu, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. A light fluttering feeling fills my stomach over the image in front of me. He’s reading the food list with such intensity and precision, yet he looks so boyish at the same time.

  Cute isn’t the right word to describe Kaiden Monroe, so why do I have the urge to call him that anyway?

  He catches me staring, but I don’t dodge his eyes like normal. “What?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. I…” My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, tied over his attention toward me. “I, uh, don’t know what to get is all.”

  “Liar,” he muses, sitting back. “You can get whatever you want. Their chicken stuff is pretty good. I think I had the marsala once. They’re known for their fish entrees though, and I heard that salmon is good for people with autoimmune diseases so…” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze by staring at the menu.

  My eyes narrow. “Are you…blushing?”

  His brows pinch but he won’t look up.

  “Oh my God.” I laugh, smiling wider than I have in forever. “The Kaiden Monroe is blushing. I feel like I should take a picture. The school has an Instagram account, right? Maybe I should tag them in it so they’ll share it to their student pride story.”

  He grumbles and sets down his menu, giving me a dirty look that looks more like he’s pouting than anything. “I don’t blush. I’m just saying that I heard it’s good for you or whatever.”

  I play along, nodding. “I’m sure. Google does like to suggest the best salmon dishes for people fighting inflammatory diseases.”

  His eyes cast downward.

  When the waitress comes back, I order the salmon dinner with mashed potatoes and green beans, all while smiling at Kaiden. He gets chicken parmesan with the same sides, but I know he won’t eat the green beans because he always leaves them when Cam makes them for supper. He knows I’ll eat them.

  After it’s just us, I toy with the wrapped silverware. “I think it’s sweet that you did research. Not a lot of people put in that kind of effort because they choose to believe what they want to instead of getting the facts right.”

  He doesn’t fight me on the compliment, which surprises me. “What do you mean?”

  I settle into my chair, letting go of a hefty sigh just thinking about the ridiculous stereotypes I’ve heard over the years. “When you have a disease that nobody can see and they find out, most of the t
ime they won’t even believe you. On the off chance they take your word for it, they say the stupidest things like I can be cured if I sleep more or eat healthier.”

  Grinding my teeth, I think about a conversation I had once at my old school. My old Phys Ed teacher was trying to get me to participate in the unit, but I’d had a note letting me sit out on my bad flare days. It wasn’t something I did often, just when standing too long put too much strain on my knees and hips. She told me if I cut out junk food and exercised more, I’d be fine.

  Diet is always important to stay healthy, but healthy isn’t a universal concept. Eating a carrot won’t make the swelling go down and running the mile certainly won’t help me walk better the next day.

  I rest my hands on my lap. “People have preconceived notions about illness. Like when they assume you can’t get sick unless you’re overweight or old or something. Do you know how many times people tell me I can’t possibly be this sick because I’m young? Or how many times I’ve been accused of having an eating disorder because I’m too thin?

  “It’s already tiring to live the way I do because my body is attacking itself but having everyone else attack me becomes too much. I have to deal with everyone making their own conclusions about me when they hear I have an autoimmune disease. Like being told to not get stressed like I’ll be cured for life then. And don’t get me started on those who think I’m making it up. People rely too much on what they can see because everyone says that seeing is believing. It’s never been that way though. It’s always the other way around.”

  I lick my dry lips and reach for my water, taking my time to absorb the silence.

  “How do you deal with it?” he asks once I set my glass down.

  “Honestly?” I shrug. “I don’t.”

  His brow quirks.

  I elaborate. “Some days it’s easier than others to just let what people say bounce off me, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me at all. I’m just good at pretending it doesn’t.”