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What I did know, was that the things you did to survive were the most personal of all—the fight to live would humble you in ways you didn’t ever want anyone else to know about. Because sometimes it was unspeakable. Sometimes it was ugly and shameful and beautiful and courageous all at once. And he’d just given me some of that. I felt sad, horrified, anguished for him, but I felt deeply honored too. I squeezed him tighter. “I think you’re amazing,” I said, “and so very brave.”
“I’m not brave, Tenleigh. I get up and live my sucky life. What else can I do?”
I was quiet, thinking about that, thinking there were a thousand different ways a person could give up, and Kyland hadn’t chosen any of them. He had no idea how strong and courageous he really was.
“Hey, Tenleigh,” he whispered after a while.
“Yes?”
“That book The Road?”
“Hmm hmm?” I murmured, remembering his bad joke, using the word “devour” in reference to a book about cannibals. I smiled sleepily.
“There’s this line in it that talks about keeping a little fire burning inside, ‘however small, however hidden.’”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I think about that line sometimes. I think about how that little fire is hope. I think about how you have to keep it burning to get you through the hard times, the times that seem so painful you don’t want to continue on.”
I opened my eyes, looking around at the shifting shadows in his bedroom. “What keeps your fire burning?”
“The hope that life won’t always hurt so badly. The belief that I’ll get out of here someday—that I won’t be cold or hungry forever. It keeps me going. It’s my fire. It helps me do the things I need to do to survive, and it helps me hate myself less for doing them.”
Oh, Kyland.
I turned my face into his chest and kissed his skin again. He brought his arms around me and held me tightly to him.
After a few minutes, his breathing grew even and I knew he’d fallen back to sleep. I lay there in the dark for a long time thinking about the amazing boy Kyland had to become to be able to survive against such odds. Until that moment, I didn’t know my heart could be filled with awe and grief, joy and sorrow, all at the exact same time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tenleigh
I left early the next day, pulling on my clothes in the frigid morning air and kissing Kyland goodbye as he slept. He hadn’t had any more bad dreams, but I didn’t want to wake him. We’d been up most of the night. A warm flush covered my skin as I relived what we’d experienced together in his bed. I wanted to dive back under those warm covers and experience every bit of it again. But I didn’t know what time Marlo would be home and I wanted to be there when she arrived with our mama. And so I snuck out of his room quietly, leaving my Christmas tree glowing in the corner, and closing his front door behind me.
Something about the whole world seemed different to me this morning as I trudged through the snow to our trailer. The cold seemed colder, the air fresher, the pine trees more fragrant, the blue sky even brighter. I felt alive.
I rushed through our trailer door and turned up the heaters just enough to make it comfortable inside. I took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes, layering two sweaters and two pairs of worn wool socks. I towel-dried my hair and then piled it up into a messy bun on top of my head.
There was some oatmeal in our cabinet, so I made that and added some cinnamon, eating it sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.
My mind went immediately to Kyland. I thought about everything I’d learned about him since yesterday. I thought about the loneliness he must have faced. I thought about all it had taken for him to survive and my heart pinched. I wondered if he was still sleeping. Hopefully. What would happen between us now? I didn’t know if I should expect anything at all. Perhaps last night was a one-time experience. The thought alone was deeply disappointing.
Oh, Tenleigh, don’t be stupid. This won’t end well for you if you hope for anything.
I sighed, and spooned more oatmeal into my mouth. He had spelled it out for me. I could never say that he’d promised me anything more than what we’d had last night. From what I gathered, he had resisted even that for as long as he could. He hadn’t wanted any entanglements. Which meant me. And kissing me—sharing our bodies—didn’t change that. He’d offered what he could honestly, and I’d accepted.
Maybe I was making this way too complicated based on my mama’s and my sister’s experiences with men. Couldn’t I enjoy Kyland temporarily and then part ways when it was time for that? I’d probably be sad—maybe I’d even shed a few tears over it—but then I’d move on and so would he. The memories would fade as life continued forward.
