Page 113 of Through You
“Who told that idiot he had to sacrifice himself for us?” he asks, and I let go of his face. Apolo wipes away his tears.
“I don’t know,” I joke, trying to lighten the somber mood.
“He really fooled us all with his iceberg act when in reality he’s too kind, almost bordering on foolish.”
This makes Apolo smile. His cute little face, reddened from crying, lights up.
“He hasn’t fooled us all.” Apolo keeps smiling. “He hasn’t fooled you. Is that why you fell in love with him?”
“Me, in love? With that iceberg?”
“I guess I understand now.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I used to think you were crazy because you liked him, when all along, you were the only person who could see through him.”
I stay quiet. His words register in my head because I know that what he’s saying is the truth. As children, I noticed how differently Artemis would act around me from how he was with everyone else. Even before what happened with his mother, he was always reserved and unsociable. So I was always surprised by how differently he would behave in my company. Maybe his gentle and protective side switched on when I, a street child, came to live at his house. I still remember the day he found out about my nightmares and sleepwalking.
It was my second week living at the Hidalgo house when I experienced my first nightmare and walked in my sleep. I was trembling and barefoot, standing in the middle of the kitchen with tears rolling nonstop down my cheeks.
I was trying to leave the house but was stopped and woken up by Artemis, who had come down to the kitchen for a glass of milk.
He was standing in front of me, the strands of his hair pointing in all directions—messy evidence he’d just woken up. His puffy eyes gave him away. He was wearing blue onesie pajamas with a zipper down the middle. Artemis stared at me, looking as confused as I was about what had just happened. We were small, naive children who didn’t know a thing about sleepwalking or night terrors. Yet, for whatever reason, he knew I needed him, and flashed me a huge smile.
“Don’t cry.” He took a step closer. “You’re safe now.”
He didn’t know how much those words meant to me. As a child, it was difficult to feel safe and secure from the bad men who were after my mom, the ones who would threaten or beat me up when they couldn’t find her. I wiped my tears quickly. Artemis grabbed the hood of his onesie and tugged it down until it fit snug around his head, showing two tiny cat ears on top.
“I’ll protect you,” he promised. “I’m Supercat.”
That made me smile because it was something I didn’t expect from him. During those days at the house, I had noticed he was often alone and would seldom interact with the people around him. This smiley and cheerful version of him was new to me.
Maybe he instinctively knew that it was exactly what I needed.
“Supercat?” I sniffed.
He nodded.
“Yes. And I’ll protect you, so don’t cry anymore. Okay?”
“I don’t want to close my eyes again. I’m scared.”
“Do you want me to read you a story?”
I nodded, feeling shy. Anything was better than going back to sleep and having awful dreams. We went to the living room and sat on the couch. Artemis turned on a lamp and brought down blankets and pillows from a hallway closet. Once we had wrapped ourselves in the blankets, Artemis sat next to me and proceeded to read. He sounded lively and completely involved with the story.
He even made up different voices for every character. I couldn’t help but forget about the nightmares.
And I fell asleep right there, with my head on his shoulder.
He was always there to help me deal with my nightmares. My very own superhero, my Supercat.
I’m overcome with nostalgia and a sense of gratitude that takes my breath away. I firmly believe the support Artemis showed me back when we were just a couple of kids has played a crucial part in my life. And I feel a great need to give some of it back to him. I give Apolo another hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re an amazing guy, okay?”
He nods. I get up and go back to the study. Artemis doesn’t look up when I come in and close the door behind me. I take one of the chairs from against the wall and place it in front of him. I sit facing him, then place my hands over his and pull them down from his face. His expression still looks wounded, and I can’t help but notice how handsome he looks despite his current state.
“Claudia, I told you that—”
“Hush,” I interrupt him.
