Touch (Denazen #1)(24)

“Me?” He looked surprised—then worried.

I looked away. “I want to know how you grew up.”

This seemed to horrify him. “Why? I told you what a horrible place it was.”

“Because…”

He scowled and folded his arms. His expression changed—not angry, really—more like frustrated. “My world wasn’t pretty. It was dark and loud and full of pain. I do not understand why you keep asking.”

“It’s what people do. You know, when they’re… interested.”

“Interested?”

“I want to know about your past. It makes you who you are.”

His lips twisted into an angry snarl, and he jumped to his feet. “It doesn’t make me who I am. That place has nothing to do with who I am. Sue swore to me—”

I let the turkey sub fall to the grass and sprang to my feet. Grabbing his hands, I said, “You misunderstood me. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.” I sank back to the ground and pulled him with me. “All the things Denazen did, all they put you through, it made you strong. You came out of that place in one piece. You’re not a drooling zombie or a crazed, machete-wielding maniac. That’s a lot more than others can say, I bet.”

A glimmer of something danced behind ice blue eyes. Sadness and maybe a small spark of hope. I died a little at the thought of him locked away from the rest of the world. “I couldn’t miss what I never had. But now that I know…” He brought his hand to my face and let it trail down my neck and under my shirt to my bare shoulder. Looking away, he said, “Please don’t ask me about that place again. I don’t want you to know what my life was like before.”

I could have argued. Hell, I argued about everything. But the agony in his voice made me sick. I needed to know what they did to him—to Mom—but I couldn’t stand to see him hurting over it.

Leaning back against the tree, I tilted my head sideways so it rested against his shoulder.

I started by telling him about the first time I’d done something stupid to get Dad’s attention. “It wasn’t long after Dad started working longer hours at Denazen, and I’d been feeling kind of neglected.” I sighed and picked at the edge of my sub. “He was distant and cold—sometimes he was downright mean. I didn’t understand. For awhile I thought it was me. That I’d disappointed him somehow… It’d been my brilliant idea that sliding down the stairs on a plastic sled—to show him how brave I so obviously was—would fix all that. I was eight at the time and ended up breaking my right arm.”

“Did he think you were brave?”

I laughed. “He thought some colorful things—brave was not one of them.”

Kale played with a strand of my hair. He wrapped it around his pointer finger, let it unravel, and then wrapped it again. “So you used to be close with him?”

“I wouldn’t say close—normal is more like it. He went to work, came home, and asked me what I’d learned in school. I did my homework and watched TV with him.” I shrugged. “Normal stuff. But there was always this…barrier…between us.”

I pulled a piece of turkey from the sub and popped it into my mouth. It was dry and tasted rubbery. Processed. Nothing beat the real thing. “It was like he was keeping me at a distance on purpose. I used to think it was because I looked so much like Mom—but I guess I know now that wasn’t true…” I sighed. “When I started hanging with Alex and his friends, getting into more and more trouble, I thought for sure he’d have some kind of reaction.”

“And he didn’t?”

I pulled another piece of turkey from the sub, but this time instead of eating it, I tossed it across the lawn. A pigeon swooped down immediately and snatched it away. “Nope. Sure, he’d yell and scream, but it was all empty. You could tell. He wasn’t really into it. Like he was doing it because it’s what was expected.”

Kale thought about this for a moment, then frowned. “Let’s not talk about him anymore. Tell me about something else. A secret no one else knows.”

A secret no one else knew. I had one—and it was a game changer—but since Alex, trust didn’t come easy. With Kale though, the thought of sharing the deepest, darkest part of myself felt exciting and not terrifying. Still, I couldn’t get the words out. Not yet anyway. I stopped picking at my sandwich and moved Kale’s hand onto my lap. Turning it over, I pulled blades of grass from the ground one by one and watched them disintegrate in his palm. The remains would hover for several seconds before fluttering away in the breeze. Every few pieces, I’d stop and trace circles across his open palm.

After a while, Kale cleared his throat. “School. Tell me about school.”

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Sue used to tell me about a place where people my own age gather to learn. It always fascinated me.” He smiled. “What was your favorite part?”

I gave him a lopsided grin. “Well, there’s this class called detention…”

§

“I don’t like him,” Kale said as we settled on the grass in the field behind Roudey’s to wait for Alex. “I don’t like how he looks at you.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not his biggest fan either, but he might be able to help us. Trust me, if I can tolerate being in the same room with him for a little while, so can you.”