Page 70 of All the Forbidden Things
“This isn’t your whole life, kid. These are just the material parts of it. Your whole life is what’s in here”—he taps my temple— “and in here.” He places his palm over my chest. “That’s where the important stuff is kept.”
I wipe at my nose with the back of my hand, tears tracking down my cheeks as my brother moves in and wraps his arms around me.
“I’m sorry, I’m just having a moment,” I croak out through my tears.
“Have all the moments you like. I’ll always be here for you, don’t ever forget that. You’ve just been through a terrifying shitty ordeal. If you need to talk, please call me. I’m worried that you’re moving too fast with all of this.”
“If I were moving anywhere else, I’d agree, but this is Max, he’s not exactly a stranger.”
“If it were anywhere else, I wouldn’t be letting you go.”
I rest my cheek against my brother’s chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. My eyes land on Max, who’s leaning on the tailgate of the truck, watching my little meltdown.
He slides out the first box and calls out, “You got your keys, Bamm? I’ll take these straight up.”
Three hours later, my clothes are all unpacked, and Layla is lying on my bed watching the process. Max and my brother are in the studio, doing whatever it is they do when they’re in there together.
Max ordered me a coffee machine online this morning and paid for express delivery, so it should be here tomorrow. He also ordered a cot for Layla, which we’ll set up in the corner of my bedroom.
I’ve asked Max for Saturday off so I can go out and buy myself some new bedding, throw cushions, blankets, and some art for the walls. I love the tan-coloured leather sofa, the entertainment unit, and side tables, so I won’t be replacing those. But I will get a couple of lamps. The bedroom furniture is all plain white, so I can put my own mark on that with new bedding, a mirror for the wall, and maybe a vase or something pretty.
“What d’ya reckon, Miss Layla? It’s looking better, right, a bit cosier?”
Her arms and legs move randomly as she smiles up at me, and I can’t help but smile back because it looks as if she’s attempting to dance along to Lauryn Hill, singing about being killed softly over the built-in sound system.
Until my brother had said what he did, I was momentarily overwhelmed and unsure of my place in this world or where I belonged. Unfortunately, it’s a feeling that plagues me occasionally. As a child, I was confident, probably a little overly so. Being surrounded by adults will do that to a kid. I never attended school until I went to live with Cal and Mel. Until then, I’d been homeschooled by my parents. My mum took care of English and humanities, and my dad, maths and science, my lessons taught in hotel rooms, recording studios, tour buses, or wherever we happened to be in the world that day.
When my parents were killed, my life was altered beyond all recognition. Cal was my big brother, and I loved him, he was a part of my very earliest memories, but life with him and Mel was very different from what I was used to. We lived in a houseallof the time, not months away in hotels and on buses. When his band toured, Mel would take us to join him for a few weeks—ifit was during school holidays —but not for the extended periods I’d spent away with my mum and dad.
Just attending school in and of itself was a huge culture shock.
I was ahead of the other kids academically but way behind them socially. I just didn’t know how to interact; they all seemed so young and immature.
I got used to being a loner. I didn’t mind. Some kids were horrible anyway,mostkids in fact. Being a redhead with freckles and having what’s considered a boy’s name made me a target for bullies.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t intimidated, I stuck up for myself and could deliver a comeback that usually shut them down enough that they left me alone. It just meant I never really made friends at primary school. When I started secondary school at age eleven, I thought things might be different. But one of the other kid’s mums recognised Cal at the orientation evening, so on the first day of term, unbeknown to me, everyone knew I was Callum Wild’s sister. I just thought I was right, and that secondary schoolwasdifferent. Suddenly, I had friends and invites over to their houses, to the cinema, and for sleepovers. The cool kids welcomed me into their clique, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like I belonged. That lasted for about three weeks. It was when those “friends” started pestering me to come over to my house that I should’ve worked things out. But Cal was away at the time, so I didn’t catch on. The band was all at Jay and Marnie’s place where they recorded their music. Mel, Kenzie, and I would go stay with them most weekends, so at the time, I didn’t attend any of the sleepovers I got invited to, nor did I invite anyone to stay at mine. But I eventually brought Ella Jameson and Taylah Dale home for dinner and to do homework one night, and Mel caught them in her bedroom going through her drawers. They’d taken photos on their phones of her and Cal’s bed, inside their walk-in wardrobe, and in their en suite bathroom.
She called their parents to collect them before we’d even had dinner or done any studying. The penny dropped for me then, and I returned to school the next day ignored by almost every girl in my year. They weren’t my friends; they were a bunch of shallow bitches I didn’t need in my life.
I’m a nice person, a loyal friend. So, as far as I was concerned, it wastheirloss, not mine. It still hurt like fuck, and I felt totally alone, but I kept telling myself I was better off without them. I’ve kept my circle tight ever since. And even though Kenzie is five years younger than I am, we’re close and grow closer the older we get.
Daniel Milliano, an older boy I’d seen around school and another loner, came and sat with me at lunch a few days after Bedroom Gate.
“So, you’re the rock star’s daughter,” he stated.
“Sister,” I corrected.
“Even better.”
“How so?” I asked between mouthfuls of my chicken and avocado wrap.
“Well, I’m going to be your new best friend, and it might get a little awkward having me perv over your dad. Your brother? Not so much.”
“Do I not get a say in the whole best friend thing? And FYI, if you’d have met my dad, you would’ve totally perved over him too.”
“No, you don’t. The fates have put us together. Next to me, you’re the most relevant person in this school.”
He held out his hand, and I held out mine, expecting him to shake it. Instead, he raised it to his mouth and brushed his lips over the back.
