Page 55 of Beyond The Maples
I could get him out of here, right? I had begun to revel in the fact that, for the first time in my adult life, I don't really have to take care of anyone every day. The thought makes me feel guilty, but it's the truth.
My relationships here are different. There is no underlying meaning behind actions, or managing emotions. It is different. Seeing Deacon made me realize how complex our relationship has become over the years, how taxing. At home, I hadn't been able to truly reflect on the odd dynamics that had been taking place, and there's a pit in the bottom of my stomach as I realize it's all about to change.
"No, no explain this to me again, please. You got my letters, correct?"
I'm pacing my room again, so upset I don't know whether to cry, or scream.
He shakes his head, sighing.
"I already told you Mae, yes, I got your letters." He looks exhausted.
We've been at this for an hour already. Farra had practically run out of the room after we got back from our tech training with the others. Which only fueled my irritation with Deacon because I was looking forward to that class. We were working on communication tech in the field, something I may have been good at if I hadn't been completely distracted.
"Ok, so you got my letters. You knew things were ok. Going well, in fact. Yet you took it upon yourself to just come charging in? Without a valid reason, despite being at home, safe."
"So what, you're the only person allowed to make your own decisions? The only one allowed to put your life at risk for the people you love? The Games, the army, only Maple is allowed to do things without question and unwavering support?" I stare at him, blinking. I feel as if my brain is about to implode.
"What do youmean? Can you honestly not see the difference between me having to make hard choices for the people that are under my direct care, and for you who wanted, what, some adventure? To be the hero? Your family doesn't need that kind of support, Deacon. They need you home, safe working with them like you always have. What if you die? Did you not think about how this will affect everyone?" I wish my voice sounded less shaky.
He looks at me, desperation passing over his features. "And what ifyoudie? Do you not understand what would happen to Linden or Willow? Me? I amherebecause I thought the two of us together, looking out for each other, would have a better chance. That we've always been a good team. And the thought of leaving things like we left them was killing me, Maple." The tears in his eyes make my heart splinter. "I thought you'd be happy to see me, happy that you'd have help, for once."
He slumps, leaning himself against the wall on my bed, like this conversation has exhausted him beyond repair. My insides twist. As angry as I am, as much as I want to thrash and yell, I understand the instinct to protect more than most people.
I sit down beside him, the initial rage fading and leaving my own exhaustion in its wake.
"I just wish..." I don't finish my sentence. Anything I say is going to hurt his feelings. And what do I wish? I wish he would've respected my choices, trusted me to ask for help if I needed it. But would I have? Probably not.
Honestly, the real kicker to all this is that I felt a comfort knowing Deacon was around for Linden and Willow. That if something went wrong, they could turn to him. Now they only really have each other, and that thought terrifies me. And Marta, I guess.
Our conversation dies and we begin talking about my siblings, his siblings, things happening in Strayton. I ask a million questions, and some of our familiar banter bubbles back up, despite myself.
"Hey." He uses his foot to kick my own, "I asked Hollis to check in with Linden and Willow while we're away."
I bite the inside of my cheek, my eyes stinging a little. "Thank you," I mumble.
"So, your crew, you guys seem close. You trust them? You haven't known them very long." There's a tinge of judgement in his voice I choose to ignore.
I contemplate his question for a moment. He's right, of course. A couple of months and they've already become like a second family.
"Yeah," I answer easily, smiling.
Deacon nods. I start to talk about our little side project, but stop myself. I know he would do anything for me––I mean, he's here––but something in my gut says he won't understand. I hope after a while he'll start to see things for the way they are. A question pops out of my mouth before I can think better of it.
"Hey, have you been here before?"
He nods."Yeah, a couple of times. My dad has had meetings here with some of the council members. Why?"
I think, choosing my words carefully, not wanting to disrupt our unspoken truce.
"I was just curious. I thought you'd have mentioned it to me. It's so different here. When I first got here, I was shocked. Kids playing freely in the streets, and everyone looks so much healthier."
I'm baiting him, wondering if he can see the things I do. He doesn't seem to take notice of my question beneath the question.
"Yeah, it was weird at first. Honestly, I know I never really talked about my time on the road. It was hard to... explain properly. Also, we were told to keep what we saw quiet, anyhow." He picks at his nails, examining them like they are the most interesting thing in the room. Then he slaps my leg playfully.
"Well, I know we have a lot more to talk about, but I'm thinking I should go get settled in. My roommate wasn't overly eager to have me, so I should go play nice." He smiles, and I return it, but it feels forced.
Disappointment settles in my bones, and I can't pinpoint what exactly is disappointing me the most, but I try to squash it. We've always been different. It shouldn't surprise me that he thinks differently than me. It shouldn't matter. It doesn't have to mean anything, I tell myself firmly.
