Page 5 of Desolation
I know he hears what I refuse to say. It’s as plain as day. I’ve never felt more exposed.
I’m in the same dilemma Leo and Luke have been in for their entire lives. It’s easy to hide behind humor instead of diving into the emotional side of ourselves. But if I start getting mushy, if I’m suddenly not the funny girl they’ve known their entire lives. What’s my place in the group then? The risk of changing the dynamic isn’t one I’m willing to take.
They don’t know what came before… Before Beth, before them.
They might have guessed but they don’t know for sure, and there is no way they couldhave guessed everything. I made damn sure of that.
Forty years ago, when the world started going to shit and every earthquake, tornado, and wildfire took more homes than the last, the world saw more parents dying, more children displaced, more than it evercould have imagined. In the face of orphaned and starving children on streets, a foster care initiative was quickly set up by the government. Anyone who volunteered to take children off the street received a large handout of money.
But with promises of cash awards came greedy, despicable people. They left their homes in droves, practically clawed these traumatized children into their homes with one hand and snatched the money with the other, to fund their disgusting habits.
I was one of them. We all were. One of many children who saw the dangled promise of safety and latched onto it in their despair and grief, only to come ‘home’ to cupboards overflowing with empty booze containers and foster parents with needle tracks lining their arms. Dismissed to bare bedrooms with sleeping bags for beds, a trash bag to hold what measly belongings we had and men and women who snuck into children’s rooms to satisfy their depraved desires in the night.
I was six when I was removed from that shit excuse for a ‘home.’ Some kids stayed until they aged out. I guess I was ‘one of the lucky ones’ if I wanted to see the silver lining.
When I found these guys, I knew they were it for me. It was the way they put me at ease, despite my trauma. Fifteen years later, and that still hasn’t changed.
“Come on,” Hale says, a twinkle in his eyes and a lightness in his voice that has me looking up with curiosity. “You know you would never lose us. What’s our saying?”
Maybe he can tell we’ve reached my quota for serious conversations. Bless him.
I laugh softly at the absurd line we came up with as preteens before answering with a chuckle, “Friends are like condoms. They protect you when things get hard.”
We’d just started learning about sex ed and ‘protection’ when we decided on that. We may not have fully understood the use of condoms back then but, in hindsight, we really nailed that analogy.
“Well, then?” Hale asks. “We’ve stuck together for this long. I don’t picture that changing. Do you?”
You’re just full of questions tonight, huh?
There’s a war going on inside between my head and heart. Iknowthey care about me. I don’t remember much about my biological family but I remember feeling safe, happy,loved. These guys are all of that and more. Meeting them was one of the best things to happen in my life. I know these men will never hurt me.
But, if I open myself up to them about everything I'm hiding, what if everything changes? I don't want their pity. All that aside, they don't know how I feel about them. What if they don't feel the same way?
The fear of rejection isreal,it’s what holds me back—that andthe fact there's no way in hell I could choose just one of them.
Legally, I’m an adult now. If I lose them, that doesn’t mean I lose my home. But if I lose them, I lose myfamily, which would be worse.
The guys and Beth are truly all I have. In their own ways, each of them has helped me heal from the trauma of my past. Each time I felt consumed with flashbacks and grief, Beth let me cry on her shoulder, soothing me and comforting me, healing a small crack in my heart every time. And the guys, they helped in so many ways by just existing.
I can’t screw this up but I also can’t live my life in fear anymore.
My past can’t define me any longer. I need to push past it. I want to progress. Perfection isn’t possible, but I can at least try to be better, even just a little each day.
I need to decide if I can handle the fallout of them not reciprocating my feelings. It’s a tough pill to swallow but this wishy-washy, back-and-forth tug of war is slowly pushing me to the edge of my sanity.
The sincerity in his words is evident, but I need some time. I can’t just let down the wall I’ve spent countless years reinforcing, even for them. Not yet.
So, in pure Lana-style, I ignore his question. Loudly enough for the others to hear, I say, “Can I please have another beer? I promise I won't challenge you guys to another belching contest. You’re all sore losers anyway!”
“Opinions are like assholes, Lana. Everyone has one.” Leo shoots back, breaking the tension thatdescends on the group during my interaction with Hale.
Cheeky bastard.
“Exactly!” Luke adds. “Just becauseyouthink your burps are better doesn’t mean it’s the truth, sweetheart. Dream on!”
Their playful personalities are infectious, drawing a smile from my lips every time they banter. They’re quick with their words and creative with their pranks but it all stems from a dark time in their childhood and their egg donor.
With the twins, the moment may get serious, but it never stays that way for long, no matter what the topic or who’s involved.
