Page 17 of Brainwashed
I snort, and we both end up giggling for thirty seconds. “Caught in a landslide… no escape from reality?”
He cackles. Then says, “Otkroy svoi glaza, vzglyani na nebo i uvidish’.”
I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “You have to sing it, though!”
And he does. He fuckingsingsthe lyrics to the most famous Queen song ever in fucking Russian.Holy crap, this guy is so cool.
I’m suddenly eager as hell to ask him if he likes boys. But I don’t want to scare him away if he’s straight. Plus, what would it mean, anyway? What am I going to do, date someone through a wall?
He’ll just leave you, Felix. They all try to leave. Haven’t you learned this by now?? It’s like you’re willfully stupid or something.
My laughter fades and my smile falls off at my thoughts. They’re right, they always are. This is my issue, my infinite curse.
They’re pretending to care about you. They’ll never love you because they don’t want to.
“How about you?” Dash asks, and I glance up at the wall. “Do you speak any other languages?”
“Spanish,” I tell him quietly, feeling insecure and dismal all of a sudden. “Some French and Mandarin…”
My mind drifts to Lin. Number six. He taught me some phrases when we were still enjoying each other’s company. Before he inevitably told me he wanted to leave. And I wrapped a zip tie around his neck…
“That’s cool,” Dash chirps, with no idea of the storm raging in my mind right now. “But can you singBohemian Rhapsody?”
Against my will, my lips curl.I like this guy a lot…
Bringing my hand to the wall, my fingertips hesitantly touch the cool, jagged surface, wishing it was the warm, smooth skin of his face.
He won’t love you, Felix.
None of them will.
Felix Harmon Darcey
Age: Fourteen
Location: Ridgefield, CT
Iused to hang out with these kids from our neighborhood in Ridgefield. They lived three houses down in our little cul-de-sac… Cameron and Cassie Kline.
They were twins, and we were all the same age. They moved to our neighborhood when we were all six, so we sort of grew up together.
They didn’t have a mother. She died when they were very small. It was just them and their dad… Tom.
Thomas Kline was an investment banker in Manhattan. After his wife died, he was able to reduce the number of hours he worked so he could take care of Cam and Cassie more. From what I remember, he still went into the city, like, once a week. But other than that, he was always home.
I thought nothing of it. I mean, he wasn’tmydad… Though it seemed strange to me, the concept of a father always being around. Taking such an interest in his children. My father wasn’t like that at all.
To get any sort of engagement with my own father was a rarity, one I began to treasure. To covet…
I wondered why my father didn’t pay as much attention to me and Zach that Tom did to Cam and Cassie. I assumed it was because of my mother. He hated her, and so, in turn, he hated being around us.
Cam and Cassie were lucky their mother had died.
I remember one day, the three of us were riding bikes. Cam was showing off, as usual. He was so good at everything, sports in particular. I couldn’t stop watching him as he popped wheelies on his bike, skidding the tires in one-eighties, launching himself up onto the curb.
He looked so good doing it… Like a professional, I suppose. But also, the way the veins in his forearms popped, his shaggy blonde hair falling in his eyes, the prominent dimples that were always on display around his mouth. Cam smiled a lot. He laughed a lot, too. And I’d become enamored with how it made him look…
I was spending so much time hypnotized by him, in fact, that I somehow lost my balance and fell right off my bike. I wiped the hell out, landing on my ass with my hands down, scraping the shit out of my palms. It hurt like a bitch, but I was more concerned about the bike. I knew my mom would pitch a fit if I messed up the bike they’d just got me, which would displease my father. And we couldn’t have that.
