The Story Of Us(Original)

6

Kellen and I drove aimlessly. Our conversations floated from one topic until we wound up at the South Street Seaport.

We looked out onto the water and discussed our families and though I felt comfortable with him, I was sure to keep my responses vague as possible. Kellen was from California, I didn't want to risk scaring him away with the knowledge I was the daughter of the L.A Butcher.

Or an Idris. Not until he liked me.

"How about you?" I asked.

"My mom is complicated," Kellen replied.

"What's so complicated?" I smiled, sure nothing could be more complicated than Callahan and Colleen.

"She's an alcoholic," he said, weighing my reaction. I didn't react. Cal was a mean drunk; I didn't realize it was unnatural until I noticed Damian scantily drank. "I'm told she wasn't before my dad - before me - but I've never seen her sober."

Kellen cooly confessed Zoee's abuse. Daily beatings solely because he looked like the man who she felt ruined her life. He later admitted, he didn't know why he did. Like me, pity makes Kellen cringe but in me he sensed a kindred soul.

Someone as broken as him.

"I know it's crazy, but I love her. I think I would die if I knew it would make her happy. So, complicated." He ruefully chuckled, looking out into the water.

I had never related to something more, revealing in a hushed whisper that mine did too. "She doesn't drink too much, but she... hurts me," I admitted for the first time in my life. "I'm not crazy, I know I've done something wrong," I rambled pushing it from my chest before I became too scared.

"Calling me crazy?" Kellen taunted, but the look in his eye was sympathetic.

"No, of course not." I shook my head, unable to keep it in any longer. "It's just... I know it's 'cause she wants to. 'Cause she can? I think it's because of my dad too, but mostly I think it's because I exist. I didn't mean—" I rambled.

"I get it," He assured me.

I felt relieved. I barely knew him and yet Kellen's impression of me was so important.

"Sometimes I get scared. Like, my body will give up one day and she will suddenly realize my little brother exists. She used to worship him before she had the new baby, and now... I think I'm the barrier," I went on.

There was a moment of silence. Kellen reached his arm out and pulled me into a hug. It was unexpected but nice, everything from the feeling of his embrace to his scent; warm and secure. "I'm sorry," he said, causing me to pull away.

His pitty made my stomach turn. Callahan taught us it was an emotion reserved for the weak. "It's fine." I forced a smile; a pantomime of the perfect girl - all teeth - and apologies.

"It's not," Kellen chided, thinking for a moment before taking a step back and lifting his shirt.

"What are you doing?" I cautiously asked.

"Back home, with my mom..." He explained, looking down to his side. I followed his eyes to a large scar between Kellen's ribs. Flat but discolored from his olive skin. "My older sister, Somia, took me and my little sister in when my mom's habits got a little..." he said tenderly tracing the mark with his fingers. "Let's just say when I got too big to hit, she got creative."

I was horrified. Colleen had punched me, kicked me, made me kneel on rice or stand awake all night, so I couldn't play well the next day, but I couldn't imagine her stabbing me.

"Oh my God..." I gasped, reaching out to trace the long line.

"I used to smile a lot too. It's the natural setting for kids like us," Kellen grimaced, quickly lowering his shirt.