Page 144 of Facing Off
“No!” He holds out his hand. “You asked how you know if you belong. Actions. They speak louder than words. When people want you around, when you really matter to them, they show you in a way you can’t mistake.”
He starts unfolding the square.
It’s not a square at all.
In his hands is a falling apart, faded, preciously kept, crayon-colored crown.
My hand flies to my mouth.
“I’m sorry I left,” says Quinn, his light brown eyes damp pools of regret. “I don’t think I’ve said that nearly enough, Sonya.”
“No.” I exhale shakily. “You were taken away.”
“To a little kid, it still felt like I left you, right?”
Since Team Nutcracker’s conclusions and after Adrian came over to my apartment, I’ve been trying a few more recommendations from the report. Between practicing in the studio, of course. Like I’ve journaled. At first it was painstakingly hard and irritating, but after a while, I couldn’t stop. I’m unpacking, one of the things being my childhood…
“I was so mad,” I babble out, my confession muffled between my fingers. “I hated you for so long, because we were supposed to be f-forever siblings, and then you left. You just left.”
His posture stoops. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
I’m grabbingmywallet from my purse, unzipping a pocket and digging out my own memory. It’s not a full crown, but a broken off jewel from the one he made for me on my ninth birthday.
I show him.
Quinn recognizes it instantly and staggers back. “You kept a part of it, Sonya?”
I inhale, this soft stuttering sound. “I liked being mad, because it was easier to blame you than to miss you, but I never stopped. Missing you.”
Both of us are rubbing our eyes.
“Making those crowns is my second happiest memory with you, Quinn.” I pause and steady myself for the longest time. “…the first being when you found me again.”
He’s thunderstruck. His warm brown eyes take on a very vulnerable look.
A single tear rolls down my cheek that I quickly wipe away. “I don’t think I ever said this, but thank you. And also I’m sorry. Ever since you found me, I know I haven’t let myself open back up to you properly.”
“Don’t say sorry, Sonya. Not to me. I get it.” Understanding passes over his features. “I hurt you when we were little. Badly. You don’t want to risk feeling like that again.”
I rub my nose with the back of my other hand and shake my head. “That’s not fair of me though. It wasn’t your fault, so I’m not going to let fear keep stopping me. Not anymore. You’re always going to be my big brother.”
On his scarred face, an expression of wondrous boyishhappiness spreads. As if I’ve celebrated his birthday a hundred times over. I feel like I’m looking at eleven-year-old him, and I’m nine-year-old me.
“I love you,” rasps Quinn. His throat is working up and down and his eyebrows have pulled together.
I mumble rapid-fire fast, “Yeah-same-you-too.”
Then before I can second guess myself, I hug him. Properly. Fully. With my whole weight. Something I haven’t done for a really long time.
Quinn lifts me off the ground, he hugs me back so tightly.
Across the backyard, Adrian is smiling at us. Like he couldn’t be happier.
My eyes blur with unshed tears, but I blink them away. So many things have led us to this point, and for their part in that, I don’t loathe the day I fell on stage and the yips invaded my life. I’m still not cured and my audition is in little over a week, but this? This feels like a different kind of healing. One that’s long overdue.
Afterwards, Quinn watches me amble around for a bit, then divert to where I really want to go. Adrian hands me his water gun and opens his arms wide.
