Page 99 of Strange Lad

“I haven’t had time to dissect what happened or what triggered my episode. That’s the most frustrating part—sometimes I never can tell. Sometimes it justis, and I have to ride it out.”

“Then I’ll ride it out, too, as long as I know you’ll be safe during.”

“There’s another thing,” he says and swallows again.

“Yeah?”

“About what I said to Phoenix…about you.”

I feel a flutter form in my belly for the first time in hours. Something small, timid, but growing larger by the second, especially when he cups my face and strokes the corner of my mouth. “I didn’t mean for it to come out so soon. That was meant for you, not him.”

“Which part,” I play coy just to give in to this feeling. The one only Oli gives me. A potent mixture of sweet and terrifying.

His eyes search mine, softening at the edges and hooding. The chest beneath me rises and falls faster, but not with panic. Wetting his lips and swiping his thumb over my bottom one, he watches me while my breath hitches. “That I love you. I have always loved you.”

I kiss his thumb instead of surging up to his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he rasps, continuing to tease my lips in a way that sparks life to my libido. “But, I do. I’m honored to be your friend and desperate to be more.”

I whimper against his finger, wanting to climb him like a damn jungle gym and pepper him with kisses. “I want more, too, Oli.”

“Help me be brave?” he whispers.

I know what he’s asking for, but tonight is not the night. “Soon, beautiful. I promise.”

He leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, kitten.”

I bury my face into his chest and hope like hell I can be brave soon, too.

Oli

Meet Your Maker

Nyx and I sit by my strawberry plants in the folding chairs my landlord keeps back here for storage.

After coming clean to Phoenix three days ago, I figured it was time I cough it up to Nyx. She’d listened to me intently, cried, and hugged me fiercely. I didn’t keephisname a secret this time. It’s been a while since that painful conversation, and I’m content to sip my iced tea while she chugs a soda.

There’s a distinct shift in me, one I can recognize as potential growth.

The scars I carry still hurt, but I feel like I’m making the right choices.

Everything I admitted to my brother was true. Probably the most honest I’d ever been with myself…and him. I do blame him for everything. It’s easy. It’s safe. He used to be the most important person in my life, and who better to burn at the stake? However, seeing what it did, how my pain rippled out into everything and everyone, forced me to acknowledge all those times I was told by my therapist I was wrong.

Valid, but wrong.

I’m not begging Phoenix’s forgiveness because, like I said, I’m still hurt. I suspect I always will be, though I hope it does ease with time. He has texted a few times over the past few days. He’s asked if I was okay, if I wanted to tell our parents, and if he could tell Michael. Jorge has also asked that question. Truth is, I don’t know yet.

“Have you listened to the new song?”

I arch a brow at my sister and her sudden question.

“Dreadful’s?”

“Yeah. I guess they finally got it all recorded and posted. It’s going to be the new single.” She picks up her phone from her lap, taps it a few times, and holds it out for me.

The Spotify app starts playing the song titled Strange Lad. The lyrics are attached, so I read those while the melody continues. I knew they were recording, but I haven’t heard any of the new stuff. Probably because I was always supposed to be in their band, my bitterness refused to let me. The song ramps up, though. It’s heavy, yet somehow light. Catchy, almost. Well, the tune anyway.

But then Jorge starts screaming. I get immediate goosebumps.

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