Page 16 of The Wicker King

But yeah, that was it.

If the blinking hadn’t given it away, running off the field during the final moments of a game for seemingly no reason at all made it pretty fucking blatant.

TURMERIC

They went to visit Rina.

They’d brought some things from the toy factory’s offices to furnish her apartment, so she made them curry in thanks. They ate it on the floor, legs crossed on an old, ratty rug.

It was only a half hour later that Rina stood and picked up her plate. “I’m sorry to kick you guys out so soon, but I have to get ready for work.”

“Sure. No problem,” Jack said, getting up, too. “We’ll wash the dishes and be out in a minute.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Rina frowned.

“It’s nothing,” Jack said, scooping August’s plate from in front of him and walking into the kitchen. Rina glanced at August for an explanation.

August shrugged. “Jack likes to feel useful.”

Rina nodded in understanding and disappeared into her bedroom. “Don’t break anything,” she called, and closed the door.

D’AULNOY

They went from Rina’s straight to the woods. It was almost tradition now.

“Do you like her?” Jack asked. It was fall, but it was still warm out, and the forest was bathed in gold.

August kicked leaves as he walked. “Yeah. She’s okay.”

“I was hoping you would. She’s really smart. She likes Shakespeare a lot, just like you,” Jack said, running his hand nervously over his shaved head.

August stopped walking. “Wait. Why are you trying to set me up with her?”

“Well … she’s beautiful and brilliant. She likes all the dumb shit you like. She’s kind of like you. She’s—” Jack stopped and looked at a tree.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Jack said, looking away quickly.

“NO. What. Do. You see?” August demanded.

Jack blushed. “I see a bird. A silver bird,” he admitted quietly.

August looked at the tree hard. There was nothing there.

BOON

It happened again and again.

Jack would look off as if he saw something, but nothing was there. August kept demanding to know what Jack was seeing, and Jack would be forced to tell him.

Jack tried to hide it, tried to look away quicker and quicker, as if he could ever hide something from August—August knew Jack’s face like he knew his own. He knew all his expressions and what they meant. It made him angry that Jack was embarrassed and frightened. That he was withholding this from him, though he knew why Jack would.

He probably hadn’t even told his parents yet.

August was so frustrated that he wanted to push Jack against a tree and scream his rage at him. Burn the whole world. Shout until Jack cowered and his face turned red and he just fucking submitted.

Just fucking let him help.