Underneath the Sycamore Tree(80)

When Kaiden tells Cam and Dad his plans to go to the University of Maryland, Cam wraps him in a hug and starts crying. Dad shifts like I do, almost as if watching it feels like we’re invading on a special moment. Cam insists that we should all go out to celebrate, so we go to a new restaurant that opened in town a few weeks ago. Its yellow walls and wooded counter and stools give it a homey feel, but the light fixtures above the clothed tables make it seem fancier. It’s a mixture of comfort and class, like my two lives merged into one single place with people who have given me a chance I didn’t think I deserved outside of my isolation.

Dad convinces Kaiden to sit by Cam instead of me, which throws off our usual seating arrangement. When Dad pulls out my chair, I give him a small smile before sitting down and watching him do the same beside me.

Our relationship has changed so much since Christmas. Mama gave us room to build a relationship that she prevented us from having all those years ago, and Dad and I have done a lot of talking since the holidays. About Logan. About Mama. About life.

We’ve moved on from the bitterness wedged over a ten-year time period. Neither one of us wants to dwell on the past, me more than him, because there’s no point in trying to change the unchangeable. Our understanding is mutual, we just have different justifications backing the reasons.

Reluctantly, he reads books that I suggest even though Cam says he prefers newspapers and Reader’s Digest. I go easy on him and never force the romance books I love so much into his hands, but fantasy novels on wizards and fairies and dragons. He pretends he doesn’t love them, but there’s a gleam in his eyes when he tells me he finished. It’s the same gleam I get.

“I should take you dorm shopping!” Cam chirps once we put our orders in with the waiter. I stifle a laugh when Kaiden shoots the man a deadly glare after he glanced at my chest while writing my eggplant Parmesan down on his notepad.

Dad sips his water. “I think it’s a little early to think about that.”

Kaiden nods in agreement. “Move in wouldn’t even be until the end of August. It’s not even June.”

Cam frowns. “Time will fly by though. If we get things now, there won’t be as much picked through when it gets closer.” She claps her hands and looks at me. “Why don’t you come with us, Em? It’ll be so much fun! Maybe you can get an idea of what you want for your dorm next year.”

My lips part and a polite rejection is about to escape them when Kaiden says, “She’d love to. Right, Em?”

“Uh…”

Dad smiles, giving my arm a pat. “Sounds like it could be fun. You should go.”

Glancing at the three of them, I realize I can’t say no. Kaiden is smirking and Cam seems hopeful. So I tell her I’d love to and watch as Kaiden hides a victorious grin behind his glass of lemonade.

When we get home it’s late, but we all watch a movie before going to bed. I’m pulling on my shirt in the bathroom when sudden dizziness has me swaying. I hold onto the edge of the vanity and blink a few times until it passes. Taking a deep breath, I hear my bedroom door open and close quietly, a sign that Kaiden is here for the night.

Finishing my business, I hesitate when I glance at the foamy pee in the toilet bowl. There’s a slight pink tint to it that has my heart beating just a little faster.

It’s the vitamins, I tell myself.

It’s dinner.

It’s dehydration.

Over and over I play the game, making excuses until they cycle back through. It’s a game I’ve played for months.

Flushing, I walk over to the sink and wash my hands, ignoring the bite of pain in my fingers and wrists. Giving myself a once over in the mirror, I note my pink nose and cheeks that’s quickly forming a rash.

It’s my period triggering it.

It’s the weather changing.

It’s end-of-the-school-year stress.

When I open the door and flick off the light, I’m greeted with a shirtless Kaiden lounging on the bed. He’s already got the laptop open and resting on the usual spot between where we lay.

He looks up from the screen and frowns, which must mean I look rougher than I think I do for him to notice so quickly. “You okay?”

I nod and crawl into bed, lifting the covers over my legs and wiggling my bare toes into the soft sheets. “Just tired. I’m glad it’s the weekend. I kind of want to try getting some homework done and then catch up on sleep.”

He grins, his eyes heating with memories of the past few nights. “Someone keeping you awake, Mouse?”

The past two nights he’s woken me up by slowly stripping and kissing me until I’m naked and wet. I came twice, first by his mouth, then by his cock. He always laughs when he makes me say it, because I turn bright red.

If you can’t say it, you can’t have it.

He works me up too much to shove him off the bed, so I always reluctantly surrender. The outcome is always pleasant for both of us, so he never has a cocky grin on his face for long. Until he makes a comment about my face when I come, which always makes me blush harder than when he makes me use certain terms for his anatomy.

“You’re pale,” he notes, when I don’t answer him right away.

I swallow. “Like I said, I’m tired.”

His lips twitch. “Don’t bullshit me. I know what you look like when you’re in pain.”