Page 117 of Seeing Grayscale

Candy: Hunter, please.

Candy: We can even keep it between us.

I stare at my mom’s texts, feeling guilty that I have her nickname as her contact info.

How many sons do that?

Gray is typing away on my laptop, filling out applications, and I can’t decide if I want to write back to my mom or not.

For so long, I’ve gone through life without the woman who raised me, even though she technically is still here. When was the last time I trusted her? I guess I've grown used to not having her.

My eyes flick to Gray again.

The way he talks about his mom always makes me feel like I'm missing something. His fascination with the woman's favorite movies, his little doodles of women with different faces because he can't quite remember hers, and the occasional murmured word in his dreams make me recall a time when I idolized my mom in a similar way.

But, I let myself fall into my dad’s shadow, choking myself just to struggle to breathe in his atmosphere. The old wound still aches, the one she gave to me when she left.

When I was a teenager, all I wanted was to know why. Why did our seemingly happy family fall apart at the seams, and the glue keeping us together left with her? There was a time when I thought it was all her fault—that she simply didn’t want either of us anymore.

Now that I’m grown and not that naive little kid, I can see how my dad might’ve been the one to drive her away.

But why?

They used to be inseparable. She’s always been his Candy, and he used to be her Eddy bear. Not that she’s called him that in easily twenty years, but I remember it clearly. Especially standing in this kitchen. She’d try to cook, my dad would tease her over the burnt eggs and bacon, and she’d laugh, saying how her Eddy bear would never refuse a meal, even a burnt one.

What the fuck happened to them?

Why did she leave us—me?

I fist my phone, knowing it’s stupid and unhelpful to even wonder. My mom leaving me as a kid isn’t going to change anything happening now. What’s done is done. I haven’t beenable to look at my dad’s texts, so I’ve just deleted them as they come in. His disappointment hurts more than I can ever explain. Berating myself is easier.

If only I’d told him about Xavier’s threats beforehand. After all, that’s what hetrained meto do. Damage control, twist the story into the version that suits us, and slander anyone who says otherwise.

I’m a politician’s son.

I could be the next governor. I could be anything and everything my dad wants me to be. Tucking my phone in my pocket, I lean against the counter and watch Gray.

He’s completely focused on his task, having kept to himself since we got settled. I recall what he said in the car—about losing his edge. It’s the opposite for me. Since I met him, I feel my edges sharpening and lengthening. I was a round, smooth, lump of obedience before Gray. Look at me now. I’m hiding from my parents, creating a media scandal, treading in deep waters surrounded by drug lord pirates.

Gray makes me want to take, instead of accepting what’s given.

He makes me crave more and remember who I wanted to be.

The invisible scale inside my heart tips in his favor whenever I weigh my options. But the one in my head knows better. If I could have what my heart wants, I’d have it. I’d be out, proud, with parents who would love and support me. I’d be a pilot, traveling the world, chartering whoever needed to fly. And I’d love it.

I’d love my fucking life.

I take my phone back out, pulling my gaze from Gray to the screen.

Do you remember our spot? If you do, meet me there at 3.

It’s a long shot, but I’m grasping at straws, needing something to give me hope.

Candy: I’ll be there.

The ground is icy, and chunks of clear frost cling to the dying blades of grass. Overhead, the cloudy sky darkens, only occasionally letting glimpses of light peek through. No parents in their right mind would bring their kids to this park right now, and due to its semi-secluded nature, I don’t have to look over my shoulder. We used to come here over the summer, and the private park was reserved for guests of the area or long-term residents.

Mom and I would sneak out just after sunrise while my dad slept in, and she’d swing me while I told her everything on my mind.

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