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The question puts butterflies in my stomach.
What if she thinks it’s stupid too?
“Still waiting.” She motions with her hand for me to respond, and when I don’t, she points to herself. “Nurse.” She points to me next, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
It’s like the wholeYou, Jane. Me, Tarzanthing. Awkward as fuck.
I run a hand through my hair and sack up. “Did you see the treehouse when you came up the drive way on your way to the house today? To the left of the main entrance gates?”
“The cool one with the turret? I did. You want to be a princess?” she asks with a grin.
She’s teasing, but she did say it was acooltreehouse.
“I built it,” I say in a rush. “For my little brother, Atty. He helped a little, but he’s only six, so mainly he just passed me tools, like I was a doctor in surgery or something.”
“You built that?” Her eyes are round, but it’s in a good way, like she impressed.
My cheeks get warmer. “Yeah. I… I like to build stuff. That’s what I want to do.”
“Does Jack know that’s your passion?”
I scoff, and then pretend to choke when her frown sets in. “If he knew I even thought the wordpassion,he’d probably kill me,” I explain. “If I show interest in anything other than his plans, he stomps on it. Stomps on me. I just… No.”
Kira shrugs. “Well, as the saying may or may not go — what he doesn’t know can’t hurt you, right? Fuck him. If you love it, keep quiet and do it anyway. That’s how forbidden shit gets done.”
“Forbidden Shit 101, huh?”
“From the master.” She takes a bow. “The amount of shit I keep from my very sweet and sensitive dreamer of a father, to protect his delicate, blessed little heart would make your head roll. I promised Mom I’d do my best not to stress him to the point of heart attacks, so it’s best to keep him in the dark on most matters.” She points to the clothes I’m holding. “May I?”
I hand them over, not mentioning they’re mine, in case that makes her not want to wear them.
“What kind of name isQuintus?” she asks, pulling the shorts on under her ruined dress.
“A dumb one. Call meQuin. Please. I don’t know why I introduced myself all formally and shit.”
Kira pauses halfway to reaching for the zipper at her back. “Why would you say it’s dumb?”
“Because it literally means I’m the fifth son,” I inform her. “The fifth of nine, as of last month. And counting, since Jack hasn’t completed his creepy mission yet.”
Kira gives me a strange look, so I feel the need to explain. “He’s wanted a daughter since the first of us was born. God knows why, when he doesn’t even like kids. There’s probably some business agreement he wants to make that is best secured through a bride price or some shit. But all he gets is boys, and another son has never been a reason for much celebration in this house.
“By the time I arrived, my father was bored of all the dick, and just labeled mineNumber Five.My name doesn’t have any special meaning. I’m just a fucking number around here, which is why I’ll be leaving the second I figure out a way to escape.”
“Escape?” She snorts softly and reaches for her zipper again. “Couldn’t you just walk out the door and get a job as a farm hand on some ranch out yonder? This is Texas, right? If you were based in Seattle, like me, you’d easily get hired by Amazon or Starbucks, but I feel like you’re destined for something more outdoorsy. Forestry in Oregon, maybe? Or maybe not, given your axe-work.” She gives me a cheeky smile. “If you went to Maine, you could head to the docks, get on a boat, and do the lobster thing out on the stormy seas. It’d match the whole tall, ginger, and brooding thing you’ve got going on. But why would you want to leave? It’s nice here.”
“I assure you, it isn’t,” I reply flatly. “The first time I tried to leave, I was nine. It was right before my sickly little brother’s sixth birthday, and Jack flat out refused to get him the one thing he wanted. He also forbade any of us from getting it when we pooled our money and requested a car to town. Our father refused to grant our request on the grounds that — and I quote —an Easy-Bake Oven would turn Thaddy gay.” I gesture at her face when it sours. “Exactly.”
“I got angry and said I’d take my bike instead — so he removed the tires from every bike we had and sent us all to bed without dinner,” I continue. “But I don’t sleep well angry, so I took our money, walked all night, waited until the store opened, and got Thaddy the fucking oven — that he only wanted for making his own food, because the cook was ordered not to cater to Thaddy’s legitimate, allergen-related dietary requirements, and every meal was making him sick — and then I walked home with it.”
Kira stares at me, slack jawed. “Over all those hills? That’s miles.”
“And when I arrived, Jack took the box, set it in the driveway, and ran it over with his Hummer.Thenhe pointed his finger at me and told me I’d regret ever crossing him.” I close my eyes and push the climbing rage back down.
“I was young and stupid, and I told him to do his fucking worst,” I say. “And he did. He took Thaddy to town on his birthday, and came back without him. The police brought him home the next day. Pale, shaking, and scared fucking silent. We still don’t know what happened to him, because he can’t fucking talk about it without breaking down. So, no, Kira, it’snotnice here, and it’snotas simple as walking out the door. He’ll punish the others to spite me, and I can’t fucking live with more guilt than I already fucking do.”
My hands are shaking so hard, I clamp them into fists.
Kira doesn’t react with alarm the way any sane person would. She simply looks at me a while, and then nods, as if I make total sense to her. Which is kind of terrifying, considering I barely understand myself most days.
