The Falling (Brightest Stars, #1)(69)

I read the words on Kael’s sweatshirt. It said Georgia Southern on top of a picture—was it a bird? I couldn’t tell. The words and emblem were faded, the material of the lettering flaking off. It looked vintage, but not in a pretentious way.

“So, you’re a huge Twilight fan, huh?” he asked, humor in his tone.

“Everyone is.”

He licked his lips before he spoke. “I think that’s a stretch.”

“Is it?” I questioned with sarcasm.

We were flirting, I think? I wasn’t very good at it, though he obviously was since I was grinning like an idiot and he had barely spoken.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say everyone is a fan.” He shrugged. “I can appreciate it for what it is.”

I started to feel a little defensive. What did he mean by that? I couldn’t stand the condescension.

“So you guys can watch a bunch of men chasing a ball, but romance fandom is dismissible?” I asked the question, thinking about how many times I’d wanted to speak my peace on this subject.

He raised his hands. “No, no, no. Not dismissing romance at all. I just like my vampires a little more murderous? I don’t have anything against Twilight. Put your weapon down.” He smirked. “My sister loves it.”

“What’s she like?” I was dying to know more about his family, about him.

He shifted his body closer to me as we sat together on the floor. I could tell his eyes were reading mine to see if he could trust me. Please trust me, I wanted to beg him.

“She’s . . . she’s all the things I’m not.”

I felt like he let me in, even if the door was barely cracked. I kept my focus on his face. In the tiny twitch in his jaw, I could sense his protectiveness of her, and in his eyes, the adoration for her. I was ashamed that it made me a little jealous. Not in a romantic way, not even close, but in a way that I really, really, really wished I had someone who loved me that much.

“When did you see her last?” I wanted to ask more before he closed the door on me.

“Before I deployed.”

“Wow. It’s been nearly a year?”

His face fell. When Kael’s guard was down, he showed emotion so clearly.

“So, Jasper. That whole emotion-control thing,” he said, setting a boundary. A firm one. He was changing the subject to keep me out of his personal business. My stomach twisted, but only I knew it. I was playing the part of a chill girl who you can hang out with . . . order takeout and talk about Twilight. Kael’s line in the sand was drawn, so I followed him through my pretend Door B and moved the topic back to vampires.

“He was also a soldier,” I added, trying not to show much emotion. I was happy that he let me in, even for the few seconds it lasted. I waved my nails in the air to try to make them dry faster.

Kael’s hands touched the tiny stubble on his chin. I knew it would be gone soon, due to regulations and all.

“He was,” he said and nodded. “Wait, wasn’t he a Confederate soldier?”

My hand covered my mouth. “I’ve never thought about it like that,” I admitted. Yikes.

Kael rubbed his hands together inches from my face.

“Well that changes things,” I instantly decided.

“People can do things that you don’t like, and you can still like them.” He paused a for a moment. “Especially fictional characters. They’re meant to make us question ourselves, aren’t they? Sometimes the shittiest ones can teach us the most. That’s the point, the balance between good and evil and all that.”

“But a Confederate soldier is . . .”

“Bad. Pretty fucking bad,” he affirmed. “But you didn’t write the thing. And you don’t like that part of the character. Just as I don’t love that main guy, Derek, from American History X. He’s an ex-Nazi and a total piece of shit, but it’s one of my favorite films and he does the right thing in the end. Sometimes we find comfort in stories that aren’t perfect. People are complicated, you know?”

“Everyone has a backstory,” I said, my voice less confident than his, but he made me feel like he wanted to hear me. “When I was younger, I would always make excuses for everyone’s behavior. My dad said it’s the thing that made me weak.”

Kael’s voice was soft but quick to come. “You mean empathy?”

I looked away from his eyes and up at the ceiling.

“I guess so,” I said, fragments of traumatic experiences flipping through my mind. Every time I gave someone a pass I was trying to do the right thing. But in the end my dad’s harsh judgment became the only lens that mattered.

“Making excuses for someone’s bad behavior isn’t always the same thing as finding the reason why they are that way.” Kael looked at me patiently.

I nodded. He was so intelligent when he spoke that he could take something like a vampire film and turn it into a meaningful discussion without sounding like a pretentious douche. Kael made my multitude of thoughts make sense in a way most guys his age never had.

“Yeah. I’ve found my peace with Jasper, flaws and all—and I guess I’m realizing that most of my comfort things are bad examples,” I admitted, listing them off in my head. Gossip Girl, The Vampire Diaries, One Tree Hill.

He agreed. “Mine, too.”