Page 24 of All or Nothing
“And I respect that. I know that that sentimental value is important to you.” It was taking every drop of my patience to keep a civil tone with him. My years in retail were letting me give him a pretty solid customer service voice, even though I wanted to punch him square in his handsome face. “I’m not saying youhaveto get rid of it. I’m just asking you if you could see yourself beingokaywith getting rid of it.”
“And the answer is no!”
I choked back a sigh. We were getting nowhere with this. “Listen, Xollen, I know that it’s hard looking at things that were presents and having to decide if you can let it go, but you still owe 10,000 credits in fines andwhile I agree that that is unfair,” I told him firmly before he could interrupt with yet another protest, “the fact is that you do owe it, and there’s no way out of it because they’re not bogus charges. So you have to make the money somehow, and this is your best option for getting it by the one-month deadline. Unless you have a job you haven’t told me about that pays you that much in a month.”
He sat there, glaring at me and pouting. Clearly, he wasn’t used to having to make these kinds of tough decisions, to have to pick and choose between different wants and desires to figure out what was really important. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Xoll,” I said, trying to be more gentle with him. He was frustrating as all hell, but I knew that change took time, and it was hard to do. “I’m just trying to help you in any way I can. Do you need to take a break, calm down? We don’t have to take care of this right now, we can start packing or looking for a storage situation for your paintings.”
He kept sitting there, his tail whipping around in irritation like a cat’s, for several heartbeats. Then something shifted in him, and he sighed, uncrossing his arms and looking up at me sheepishly. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he admitted, his fingers playing over the gleaming silvery metal on its velvet pillow in front of him. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I’m being unreasonable about this, I know. But I just keep thinking about how unfair it is, that I’m having to give everything up just because I wanted to help people.”
I wanted to snap at him and tell him to get over himself, but that wasn’t going to help anything right now. “I know. When me and my mom lost our place and wound up on the streets I felt something similar.Ihadn’t missed rent payments,Ihadn’t spent all of my money on my mom’s nasty new boyfriend, but I was the one who was having to sell off her tablet and jewelry from her abuelita so we could afford to at least keep the car and live out of that. The fact of the matter is sometimes you can do everything right in a situation and still have it break bad. You can’t control the actions of other people, all you can control is what you do, you know?”
He blinked at me, his face darkening. “Ah,vrakaash, Joss. I’m being an infant about this, aren’t I?” He groaned, scrubbing his long fingers over his eyes. When he looked at me again his violet eyes were swirling wildly. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have chosen things turning out like this but I have some control over what happens next. Feel free to hit me if I start whining again.”
I wanted to gasp in shock. He actuallylistenedto me? I’d begun worrying he was too spoiled for that, or maybe just too much of a stubborn male, but here he was listening and trying. “Alright, I’ll get a spray bottle full of water. Spray you down when you get testy.”
He cocked one heavy eyebrow. “Why would you do that?”
I chuckled. “On Earth it’s like, a training technique for pets. When they don’t listen to spoken commands you deter them from doing certain things by spraying a little water on them. It’s harmless but they hate it.”
He laughed. “Does that work?”
“Honestly? It never worked with my mom’s old cat. Frankie did whatever the fuck he wanted, and he didn’t care if he was soaking wet when he did it.”
“Well I do hate getting my clothes wet, so it might actually work on me,” he admitted, grinning. His eyes drifted down to the chain in front of him again. He sighed, closing the lid of its box and sliding it towards me. “I don’t even like my parents,” he told me with a bitter sigh. “I don’t know why I’m clinging to this one so much. I haven’t worn it once since they gave it to me seven solars ago.” I’d figured out that on Billieu they used “solars” to refer to years (I guess because it was the length of time it took the planet to orbit around its sun once) while “lunars” were months (one full lunar cycle). It had been confusing as hell at first but I was getting used to it now. At least weeks and days were the same…except when flying through space—but hopefully I wouldn’t be doing that again any time soon.
“If it’s that long and you haven’t touched it then I’d say that’s a strong maybe,” I told him gently, adding it to the one other piece he’d agreed to part with. “So…you’re not close with your parents either, huh?”
He nodded sadly, the two small silver hoops piercing his earlobes twinkling in the bright afternoon sunlight. “I have not been what they envisioned their child would be like,” he murmured, opening another box and stroking the jewelry within. “They wanted someone who had their business sense, who was ruthless and cunning like them. And instead, they got…” he swept his hand down, indicating himself.
“Someone who loves art and pretty things?” I offered as a guess.
He smiled wryly. “In part. But also someone overly sensitive and prone to daydreaming. Someone who couldn’t win any of the fights that were brought to him. Someone with a birth defect that left him hideously disfigured.”
My eyes widened. Okay, that was a lot to unpack. “First of all,” I said, getting mad at his parents on his behalf. No wonder the poor guy was so snippy with me; he probably saw all criticism as an attack, with parents like that. “You arenothideous, you’re gorgeous.” My face was burning up but I was determined to make him feel better and embrace boldness in my new life. “By Earth standards, you’re pretty enough to be a model. And for two, there’s nothing wrong with being sensitive. A…friend of mine told me that when someone complains about you being too sensitive, it’s almost always because they want to be mean without getting into trouble for it. Your parents sound like awful bullies, Xollen. I gotta be honest, I don’t think I like them either.”
He looked stunned. “Bullies? But they’re my parents. Can parents evenbebullies?”
I nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, big time. My mom was my first-ever bully. They don’t see it like that, they see it as ‘raising you right’, or ‘disciplining you’, but if that stuff is done with love and care it doesn’t make you feel like shit in the process. When they care more about being right and being in control than your feelings, thenthat’swhen it becomes bullying.”
I think I’d just rocked his whole world. “Sweet glory of the Goddess,” he murmured, his eyes wide and swirling like crazy. He just sat there staring at me for a long minute, turning it over in his head. “I want to say you’re wrong,” he rasped, his posture wilting in a way that made me ache with regret. Maybe I should have kept that to myself. “I want to…but I can’t. My best friend Derris has had to set me straight many times over the years, but when he does it, he’s…gentler. More careful about how he says things, more concerned for me.”
I put my hand on his arm, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Xoll,” I said, feeling guilty for turning a simple pre-move purge into an existential crisis. “I didn’t mean to drag all that up. I just get so mad when I see people getting shit on by their parents. Are you okay? Maybe we should take a break, huh?”
He looked up at me and smiled, his eyes still a little sad. “It’s alright, Joss,” he said, leaning into my hand on his arm the littlest bit. “It’s hard to hear, but I think a part of me needed to hear it.” He looked down at the pile of jewelry he’d already said he didn’t want to get rid of, before picking up several of the boxes and sliding them over to me. “I don’t think I want things from my parents anymore. I think you’re right, and I think—I think that these gifts might have been more about them looking like better parents than they really were. Or maybe they were a way for them to feel less guilty about how they treat me. I don’t know, but what you just said…vrakaash, Joss, it feels true.”
I gave him a sad smile. “That’s both good to hear and a little sad. Because it sucks to realize. I’ve been there and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially not someone who I consider a friend.” The urge to jump up and give him another hug, to maybe slide into his lap and hold him close and breathe in his spicy-sweet scent was so overwhelming that I had to pull my hand away and sit back in my seat.
His full lips fell open in shock, before spreading into a brilliant smile. “I’m your friend?” He flushed, the smile on his face looking a lot less sad. Damn him for being so cute. “You um…you’re my friend too, Joss. I’m really glad I met you.”
Man, when he wasn’t busy throwing fits about jewelry the guy was pretty darn sweet. There was a chance that he was manipulating me, that he was being nice to get what he wanted from me like a lot of people had done my whole life, but his smile seemed genuine. I couldn’t believe that all of that softness and vulnerability I’d just seen was some kind of ploy.
“I’m really glad we met, too,” I told him with a smile of my own.Ave María, the things this male was doing to my insides. Were we having some trouble getting used to each other? Absolutely. But as stressful as it could be, I didn’t want to throw in the towel. I didn’t regret my decision, and in moments like these I could see us being friends. Or maybe, just maybe, being more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Packing Up
XOLLEN
