All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(65)

‘I know that!’ Natty yelled. ‘But Nana dying was only the beginning. When I went into your room, you were lying on your bed, and your skin was grey like Nana’s. And then I went into Leo’s, and he was the same way. I was the only one left.’ Natty began to weep.

‘Leo and I aren’t going to die, Natty. Not any time soon, at least. We’re young and healthy.’

‘So were Daddy and Mommy,’ Natty replied.

I pulled Natty even closer to me, and Win seemed miles away. ‘Our lives won’t be anything like theirs. You’ll see. Everything I do, every thought I have, is about protecting us, and especially you, from that sort of life.’

Natty nodded though her eyes seemed doubtful.

I tucked her into bed. As I was about to get in next to her, I remembered that I wasn’t wearing my pyjamas. I would have to sleep in this moth-eaten flannel bathrobe. I hoped I wouldn’t get body lice or something awful. Then again, maybe that would be a good lesson about remembering to keep my pyjamas on.

Uncharacteristically, I couldn’t get to sleep. I lay awake thinking about my sister, and whether I should arrange for her to talk to someone. And then I thought about what Win and I had been doing (or about to do) in the moments before Natty’s nightmare. Though I was basically a good Catholic, I didn’t consider myself a spiritual person. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Natty’s scream had been a sign of some sort. God, or maybe my dead parents, telling me to stop. Or was this reading too much into things? Natty had nightmares regularly, after all, and they didn’t necessarily mean anything. And who is to say I wouldn’t have stopped things with Win myself? Win and I had been nearly as close before, and I had always put the brakes on without need of any higher intervention.

And yet the timing certainly gave me pause.

My skin was itchy from the bathrobe. For a while, I tried to ignore the itch, but then I couldn’t help it. I gave in. I scratched my calf until it bled.

I heard a gentle knock at the door: Win. He was carrying my pyjamas, which he had folded up. Win was gentlemanly that way. Gable, for instance, would have thrown my discarded clothes at me in a rumpled ball.

So as not to wake Natty, I went out to the hallway. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry,’ I added.

Win shook his head.

‘No. I am sorry. I don’t want to keep doing this to you. I want . . .’ It was embarrassing to say this next part out loud. ‘The thing is, my body and my mind don’t always agree on what to want.’

Win kissed my cheek. ‘Well, normally, that would be incredibly annoying, but luckily for you, I’m crazy about you.’

For now, I thought.

‘What? You’re furrowing your little brow. What’re you thinking?’

‘For now,’ I said. ‘You’re crazy about me for now.’

‘Forever,’ he insisted. ‘I mean it.’

Win was probably the nicest boy I had ever known, and it was a nice thing to say. Though I didn’t believe him, I knew he believed himself and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I tried not to let the doubt show on my face.

I kissed him on the lips, making sure to keep my tongue in my mouth where it belonged. I closed the door and returned to the room I was sharing with Natty. I took off the bathrobe and slipped into my pyjamas. Then I got back into bed next to my sister. She cuddled into my side and placed her arm around my waist.

‘Did I interrupt something with you and Win?’ she whispered.

‘Nothing important,’ I told her. I decided that it hadn’t been.

‘I do like him,’ Natty said dreamily. ‘If I ever have a boyfriend, which seems pretty doubtful, I’d want him to be exactly like Win.’

‘I’m glad you approve,’ I replied. ‘And for the record, Natty, I’m pretty sure you’ll have a million boyfriends one day.’

‘A million?’ she asked.

‘Well, as many as you want.’

‘I’d settle for one,’ she said. ‘Especially if he were as nice as yours.’

X V. we mourn again; i learn the definition of internecine

WE DIDN’T GET BACK TO THE CITY until Sunday after lunch. Win went to his apartment straight from the train station – his apartment was fairly close to Grand Central – and Leo, Natty and I made our way back to ours. I was eager to be home. I was sleepy and hungry and I had a ton of schoolwork. Besides which, being away always made me anxious.

As the weather was unseasonably warm for February, Leo and Natty wanted to walk from the train station instead of taking the bus. I had wanted to take the bus in order to expedite the trip, but I had been overruled.

We were nearly halfway home when I began to feel an inexplicable and almost painful need to be back in the apartment. I quickened my pace.

‘Slow down,’ Natty called. ‘You’re walking too fast for us.’

I turned my head over my shoulder and suggested we race. We had just reached the anachronistically named Museum Mile, which, along the park side, was a fairly straight shot back to our apartment.

‘Come back, Annie,’ Leo said. ‘It’s not fair if you have a head start.’

I backtracked to where Natty and Leo were standing.

‘On your mark,’ I said, ‘get set, go!’

Natty, Leo and I raced up the sidewalk. Leo was in the lead, with Natty not far behind. I was last but I liked that position. Easier to keep my eye on my siblings.