Page 79 of Missed Steps
Mark groans. “Blackmail.”
“The tears are building, Mark…”
“Cry, then,” Mark grumbles. “I’m not sayingyou're welcomefor behaving like a normal person should.”
“In that case, thank you for behaving like a normal person.”
Mark grumbles some more and I smile to myself, amazed that I cansmile and talk normally.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sleep comes and goes in fitful bouts. I lie in Mark’s arms, awake, staring at a black ceiling as I wait for sleep to take me once more. It’s taking its sweet time, warded off by stress. Emotional stress, that can’t be reasoned away now that it’s dark and my thoughts are allowed to run rampant. Mark snores softly, the sound breaking up the quiet of the night.
With a sigh, I reach over him for my phone, squinting at the time. It’s almost two am. I count up in my head—Chris should be landing down soon. Quietly, I slide out from under Mark’s arm and tug on my prosthetic. Light shines through the bottom of the door, faintly illuminating my way through the dark room. I close the door behind me quietly and make my way to the kitchen.
I’m pouring water from the tap when I spot Eddie leaning over books on the kitchen table. He’s frozen, highlighter poised over a sheet of paper. His expression is frozen, too. I follow his gaze downward until I realise it’s my leg he’s staring at. I’m dressed in a borrowed pair of Mark’s shorts that he gave me to sleep in. They’re big on me, but not thatbig.
I stare at the prosthetic too for a moment, and when I look back, Eddie has reanimated. Expression flitting from irritated to vexed to guilty. He turns back to his work, not saying a word.
I shift my weight, swallowing. My mind is consumed by his and Mark’s fight. How agitated Mark had been. How worked up the pair were, ready to go to battle with each other. Just because I find it hard to be around Eddie didn’t mean Ieverwanted Mark to be at odds with him.
I swallow again and approach the kitchen table. Eddie’s gaze flicks up from his notebook as I slide into the chair opposite him. His expression has settled solidly in: guarded.
“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday,” I start. “I’m sorry.”
Eddie is silent for a long pause. “Right,” he eventually says. “I’m sorry that I pushed you.”
The‘right’was full of doubt, but the pushing remark sounds genuine to me.
“I didn’t know,” Eddie gestures vaguely in the direction of my leg.
“Mark didn’t mean what he said either.”
“Don’t talk to me about Mark,” Eddie rebuffs.
That sparks unease in me, but I don’t push. It’s not as if my word holds much weight with Eddie. “Yesterday…that was my brother, Ronan. Who, I’m sure you saw, I don’t get along with.” My heart begins to race. “Though that is putting it mildly.”
Eddie puts down his highlighter and sits back. “He upset you. You lashed out at me. That’s what you’re going to say, right? Kyle, whatever that was yesterday—I’ll accept it as is. I could see you were scared, so fine. But every othertime you’ve been a complete dick to me? There was no Ronan standing there. And I’m sure you act differently when it’s just you and Mark, because otherwise he wouldn’t give you the time of day, but I’ve never seen you treat him like he should be treated either.”
“I know.”
“And—youknow?” Eddie glares.
“I try to. I mean, I’ve wanted to talk to Mark normally for years, but you two were joined at the hip, so…” I shrug.
“Excuse me, are you sayingIwas the reason you two have been fighting since you met?”
Somehow, for some reason, Eddie’s confrontation isn’t scaring the crap out of me. Maybe it’s because only a few hours ago I encountered Ronan. Comparing what Eddie usually sparks in me to what Ronan did…god it’s not even close.
“The bad experience I had—and I’m using the word ‘experience’ broadly, here, this was an ongoing situation I was stuck in for a few months—your brother,” I hesitate.
Eddie’s expression shifts. “Leonard?” he asks, confused. “What could my brother possibly have to do with any of this?”
“He did his teacher training at my primary school. Part of it, anyway.” I search Eddie’s expression. “Do you know the reason why it was ended early, and he was transferred?”
“He told us there was a mix up, and he had been transferred to the wrong district.”
I grimace. Part of me had been hoping that he would know the story already; that all I would have to do is put a name to the student from his brother’s story. I guess it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you went home to tell your family about.
