Charcoal Tears

by Jane Washington

  The drive to school was quieter than usual, and I knew that Tariq wanted to question me, but he held it in. He reached over and squeezed my hand after we parked, and then slid out of the car, hurrying off. I sat there, staring at the dash until a knock on the window startled me; Cabe smiled down at me.

  “You coming in?” His voice was muffled.

  I pushed the door open and moved to retrieve my bag, but Noah was leaning against the passenger door. He opened it, slung my bag over his shoulder and began to stride toward the building entrance. Cabe coaxed my keys from me, locked the car, and walked after him. It took me a few moments to catch up to them, and they fell into place on either side of me again. I suddenly felt like the pictures stuffed into my bag were going to burn a hole through the material and spill out onto the corridor. I swallowed back my fear and tucked my hands against my sides, unsettled by the brush of their arms against mine. The other kids all stared at us, looking from the boys to me, and back again. Someone wolf-whistled and called my name. I almost tripped over, but Noah snarled something at them, and I managed to collect myself.

  “They think you’re new, like us,” Cabe said with a deep tone of amusement.

  I huffed out a breath—a reaction that seemed to amuse Noah. They followed me to homeroom and then Noah disappeared. We took our seats and a blond girl perched on the edge of Cabe’s desk.

  “Hey.” She smiled at him. “I had fun last weekend.”

  She slid me a look, smirking, and my eyes went wide, something catching in my throat. Why did I feel like her words had been somehow aimed at me?

  “Off my desk, Kat.” Cabe sounded annoyed. “You know it was a one-time deal, don’t try and pull this shit.”

  Her smirk melted into a fierce look, dark with anger, and this time it was definitely aimed at me. I shrank back against my chair and she flounced off his desk, moving to the other side of the room. I was a little surprised, as I had pegged Cabe as an almost too-nice kind of guy. Not the kind to brush off a one-night stand so harshly. He fixed his eyes to the front, pulling out a notebook and doodling in it. Mr. Thomas lectured away about appropriate uniforms and Cabe’s notebook slid onto my desk.

  You look like you haven’t slept.

  I winced and pushed away the notebook. He blinked back, surprised by my reaction and then leaned forward, dropping an arm over the back of my chair.

  “I wasn’t trying to insult you. You just look tired.” His whisper caressed my neck, and my vision of the front of the classroom blurred as the scratchy feeling spread over my neck.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered back, inexplicable panic rising in my throat. “It was a late night.”

  His hand fell over my knee, squeezed once, and then he straightened away from me. Across the room, Kat looked like she was about to throw her desk at me. I let out a hard breath and waited for the class to end. Noah leaned against the wall outside as we exited the room, and I wondered how he had managed to get there so quickly. He was in my next two classes, even though I was pretty sure that I’d had history the day before and he hadn’t been in it then. When he sat beside me, everyone stared. Lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough.

  Retreating to my corner table with Matthew was a breath of fresh air, but everyone was still staring. Whispers scattered across the cafeteria, and Matthew shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking up and around, landing on me, going back to his iPad, and repeating the process. Eventually, he set the iPad down.

  “Why is everyone staring?” His voice was a squeak. I felt bad for him.

  “I’m not sure.” It was only half of the truth, but I wasn’t about to say anything about the strange new boys and their awkward attachment to me.

  I suddenly wished that the silent stranger from work were here. Not only would I be able to talk about what was happening without worrying about his judgement, but he’d also frighten everyone else so much that they’d stop staring. I looked over to where Cabe and Noah sat. They were bent together, excluding everyone around them from their whispers. Cabe glanced up, caught me watching, and motioned me over. Matthew’s head snapped back to me, his mouth falling open.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  I coloured, staring down at my hands. When I looked up again, Noah was watching as well. He made the same motion, and I forced myself to my feet, persuading my stiff limbs to walk me over the expanse of the room without tripping. Heads turned as I passed, and Noah ordered the person on his left to move. The whole row shifted down, and Noah caught my arm, pulling me down onto the seat between himself and Cabe. It was uncomfortable, trying to swing my legs over in the skirt I wore. As soon as I was seated, they both moved close to me again.

  “Who’s the friend?” a boy asked from across the table, eyes on me.

  “No one,” Noah said lightly.

  “Seph,” I corrected, needing to clear my throat to work past the nervousness.

  The boy tilted his head, his eyes running over my features. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

  I shrugged and turned, bumping Cabe’s arm. He leaned down so that I could speak in his ear without the others hearing.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “Having lunch with us?” He answered my question with another question, and as he pushed something into my hands, my reply died.

  I held a chicken wrap, still warm. I started to eat, and was already halfway through before I paused. I looked up and spotted Tariq across the cafeteria, shooting me confused glances. I stood, feeling that the stares were worse now, but I forced my head up. It was easier to ignore them this time. I crossed to Tariq and handed him the rest of the wrap. Pink rose high in his cheeks, but he accepted it without protest.

  “Hey, Seraph,” one of his friends said, smiling at me.

  I shot a questioning look at Tariq and he shrugged, seeming almost guilty.

  “Hey,” I replied.

  “Harry,” he provided.

  “Right.” I paused. “Bye, Tariq. Bye, Harry.”

  I started to turn away, but someone grabbed my arm. Across the room Noah rose from his seat. I turned to face a redheaded boy. He had a cheeky smile in place.

  He said, “You forgot me.”

  “I have no idea who you are.”

  He feigned a hurt expression and Tariq kicked him under the table. “Stop flirting with my sister, Reggie.”

  Reggie slid his hand down to my wrist. “What if she likes it?”

  “She doesn’t,” Noah said, suddenly beside me.

  Reggie released me immediately, his eyes flashing with what I recognised as fear. He edged further down his booth seat, away from me. “Hey, no problem, I was just messing around.”

  Noah grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the table. Tariq stared at us until I was forced to turn so that I didn’t trip over trying to walk backwards. I sat down again between Cabe and Noah, and Cabe started prompting people back into conversation, drawing their attention away from me.

  I sat there numbly, and I was sure that I wasn’t even blinking. It took too long for me to regain control of my faculties.

  Who are you? I thought as I stared at the side of Noah’s profile. What do you want with me?

  Instead, I said, “That wasn’t necessary. Please don’t do it again.”

  3

  Call Me Daddy

  Noah rolled an apple into my lap halfway through lunch and I accepted it without complaint, despite the fact that he had merely grunted at my reprimand earlier. I munched slowly as people talked around me, my thoughts occupied. Noah was as quiet as I was, but at least he didn’t look as bored as he had the day before. When the bell rang, they walked with me to art class, and I froze before my easel, something niggling at me. Yesterday I had rolled up my last painting and put it in my bag, but I hadn’t seen it since. I pulled my bag into my lap and searched it just in case, but it was really gone. Frowning, I grabbed a pencil and started to scribble. I didn’t pay attention to what I was drawing, as my mind was simply too caught up on other things, but
when I smelled the blend of wooded citrus and something airy that was unique to Quillan, I tensed and pulled back. I had drawn the stairs to my house, leading to the bedrooms on the second landing, except that these stairs were twisted with frightening shadows, the balustrades curved with menacing intent. The base of the stairs was littered with money, colourless outlines scattered into haphazard piles of coins and scrunched-up notes. At the top stood a shadowy figure, broad shoulders hunched.

  As Quillan looked on from behind me I reached up and tore away the paper. I started again and he walked away silently.

  My last class for the day was music and I was hunched over the piano bench, pressing keys idly as Mrs. Reynolds tried to decide which group to put Cabe and Noah in, since they had only just transferred to the class and we had already paired off for our projects. I wasn’t surprised when they came over to my piano. I was the only one without a partner. Mrs. Reynolds had given me the option of being in a group of three or being by myself. No doubt, Cabe had used his silver-tongued charm on her to reverse my decision.

  “Do you play?” Cabe asked, sitting on the stool beside me.

  “Nope,” I said, pressing a few more keys.

  He laughed. “You picked the wrong instrument then. What do you play?”

  “Nothing,” I admitted. “I just like the sound.”

  “Noah is a maestro,” Cabe said, earning a glare from his brother. “A moody one,” he corrected, “but a maestro all the same.”

  “How are you two related?” I blurted out.

  They both looked at me. Cabe was the one to answer, but his voice had lowered. “We’re only half-brothers. No need to spread it around.”

  Yeah, right, because I have so many friends to gossip with.

  “So you’re talking today?” Noah nudged us both from the bench.

  “I guess.” I stood up, watching as his fingers stroked the keys in a delicate melody, almost too soft to be heard over the other instruments in the room. Cabe was right; he was very talented. Maybe their continued forced presence around me was beginning to make me more comfortable with them.

  “Ready to tell us why you didn’t jump out of the way of my car?” Noah asked, still focussed on the keys.

  “Is that why you two won’t leave me alone? You want to know why I have slow reflexes?”

  Cabe huffed, dropping an arm over my shoulders, his hand nudging until I was facing him. “You want us to leave you alone?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but thought about the pictures on my bed and the note that had accompanied them. Noah stopped playing, and I felt him stand behind me. He tapped on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. His stormy eyes caught mine, trying to pull the words from me as he had in the cafeteria the day before.

  “Answer Cabe,” he said softly.

  It was too much. They were both too much. “No,” I said reflexively.

  “No what?” Cabe poked me.

  “You don’t have to leave me alone.” But maybe you should.

  Noah’s eyes glimmered, his mouth hooked up into a grin and he stepped back to the piano. I turned to catch Cabe’s wide smile. None of it made sense. The more time they spent with me, the closer to them I felt. It was true; I didn’t want them to leave me alone. The scratchy feeling, while not entirely pleasant, was transforming into something frighteningly addictive. It had passed the barrier of my skin and it now traversed my insides, wiggling about and settling into my nerve endings, jolting me to life.

  I didn’t know them. I didn’t trust them. And yet, already… I needed them.

  At the end of the day they both followed me to my car. Tariq was leaning against the driver’s door, his arms folded, a rare frown making an appearance. I unlocked the car and everyone slid in. It wasn’t until I put the keys into the ignition that Tariq spoke up.

  “What are they doing here?” He jerked his head at the backseat, where Cabe and Noah were lazing silently, making the car seem a lot smaller than it actually was.

  “They’re my friends,” I said.

  Tariq’s eyes widened, and I realised I was smiling. He quietened and turned to the backseat, his mouth hanging open. I turned on the radio and drove home. We parked at the curb and Tariq touched my shoulder, flicking his eyes toward the house in warning. I nodded and turned to the backseat.

  “Can you guys wait here?” I asked.

  Cabe nodded, which I took as answer for the both of them. Tariq slid out of the car and I followed him to the door. We switched places as we neared the door, leaving me to be the distraction as usual. I’d drive off before my father could do much, and Tariq would be safe behind a locked door.

  We walked into the kitchen and heard the sounds of the television in the sitting room. Squaring my shoulders, I led us toward the sound. He had to see me at least once or he’d come looking for one of us to ask for money. It was a lesson that we had learnt early on.

  “Oi,” he called out, hearing the floorboards squeak beneath my shoes. The sound of the television was cut off and he appeared in the hallway. “Where the hell were you two?”

  He was only wearing a pair of stained sweatpants, and they were tugged too far down his left hip. There was a sound behind him and a woman’s face appeared. I cringed. Apparently he wasn’t so concerned about our schedule as he was with the fact that we’d inadvertently just interrupted something.

  “School,” I kept my tone even. “Did you buy food today?”

  He growled. “I took care of my appetite, if that’s what you’re asking, daughter.”

  Tariq sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes finding the woman whom I now realised was almost definitely a prostitute.

  “Wanna piece?” my father asked him, flashing a grin.

  Tariq turned on his heel in a flash and disappeared. I took a step back but my father stepped forward, far too quickly for the drunk that he was. He caught me by the shoulder and swung me until my back slammed into the wall. I felt the sharp ring of pain and bit the inside of my mouth.

  “Get the hell off me, Gerald.”

  “Call me daddy.” He laughed. “And while you’re at it, teach that boy up there,” he flicked his head toward the staircase that Tariq had just used to escape him, “some respect.”

  I punched him in the gut, prayed that Tariq had locked his door, and took off for the kitchen. Gerald was following me this time, and that wasn’t something I had planned for. In quick strides, I made it out the door and was halfway across the lawn before Gerald spilled out of the house after me. I ignored the car, not wanting to draw attention to it, and started off down the road.

  “Get your scrawny ass back here, Seraph! I’m not done with you!”

  I kicked into a sprint, heard an engine start behind me, and by the time I rounded the corner, the car was beside me. I slid into the passenger side and Noah pulled back onto the road.

  “Is your brother going to be okay?” Cabe asked after a moment.

  “Yes,” I puffed out. “We have a system.”

  “That’s why you went in first?” Noah asked.

  I paused. They noticed that? “Ah, yeah. His door has a lock. Mine doesn’t.”

  The cell phone in my bag started to vibrate and I fished it out, confused. I hadn’t been able to afford credit in weeks. Nobody ever called me. The number flashing across the cracked screen was familiar.

  I flicked it open. “Tariq?” I breathed, afraid.

  “You need to come back here.” He sounded angry and scared.

  “What happened?”

  “Come back. Now. He left, took that woman and went. You need to come back.”

  “What, why?”

  “Seph! Get back here!” he shouted, causing me to drop the phone.

  Picking it up again, I pressed it to my ear. “I’ll be there in a minute.” I hung up and looked at Noah. “Can you take me back?”

  He glanced down and set his jaw. “No.”

  “My dad is gone. He left.”

  He considered this for a moment and then turned the car aroun
d. We drove back to the house and I jumped out and ran to the front door. I had asked them to stay in the car again but this time they followed me. Tariq shouted down to me from his bedroom and I made my way up there, pushing open his door. The walls were plastered with pictures.

  I pulled up short and Cabe smacked into me from behind, wrapping an arm around my front to keep me from falling. I felt him freeze behind me.

  “What on earth?” asked Noah, pushing past us into the room.

  I moved forward and Cabe released me. Written in red across each picture were the same bold words.

  Leave.

  I took a step back and Tariq slammed the door to his bedroom shut. Across the back of the door someone had carved a familliar nursery rhyme into the wood.

  Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top.

  When the wind blows,

  The cradle will rock.

  When the bough breaks,

  The cradle will fall,

  Down will come baby,

  Cradle and all.

  The line ‘Down will come baby’ had been scratched deeper than the other lines, making it stand out. I turned away from the words, my teeth chattering. The pictures were all of me, sometimes with Noah or Cabe, sometimes on my own. Some of them were months old. One was of me getting changed in my bedroom. I fell to my knees, ripping the envelope out of my bag and holding it up above my head. My voice was only a whisper.

  “This was on my bed last night.”

  Someone grabbed the envelope off me and I buried my face in my hands, hiding my panic as I tried to regulate my breathing. One… two… three… Cabe crouched in front of me, pulling me into his arms. It felt natural to be held by him, as though he were a precious childhood friend instead of a virtual stranger. My cheek fell to his shoulder and he hugged me tighter, trying to hold me firmly enough that I stopped shaking.

  I could hear the sound of Tariq roughly pulling photos from the wall while Noah barked into a cell phone.

  “I don’t care. You’re the best person to deal with this kind of shit. Ask Silas? Are you insane? Dammit, Miro, fine, have it your way. You’ll have to face her eventually.” He snapped his phone shut, swore at it, and shoved it back into his pocket.