city he hated so much. He missed people back home and even though he’d never admit it to himself, he missed having a girl.
He missed something he’d never had.
Though he’d never had a girlfriend he wasn’t a virgin. He’d had sex once when he was thirteen on a dare with a girl he barely knew and never saw her again. He was constantly in trouble with the law as a kid because of running away or hanging out with the wrong people. His real parents were lowlifes. His dad was a jerk who beat his mom and his mom had been resentful because she was stuck with a kid and a husband that didn’t want one.
She beat him, kicked him, starved him and eventually abandoned him when he was seven. She packed his Dad and her things and left Bish there alone in their apartment. After some time a neighbor called the police and they took him to social services. They shoved him into one horrendous foster home after another. Every now and then he’d get a really good, nice place but they’d yank him out and move him before he could really have any peace.
I tried not to just sit in his brain all day but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Some people’s thoughts were more loud and forceful than others I’ve realized.
It was painful to see his memories, to see what he went though before he met us.
His memories of meeting my parents were priceless. They had gone through all the stuff they were supposed to, the classes and home evaluations and decided instead of adopting a child, they’d adopt an older kid because their seemed to be a lot of them and no one else wanted them.
His memory of them was almost angelic, they were glowing and smiling too widely. My mom’s hands were too soft when she touched his shoulder. My dad’s grip was too friendly when he shook his hand. Once again, Bish memories were skewed and altered to fit, like a child’s dream or something.
When he met me, he saw a small, helpless, adorable little girl who desperately needed protecting. Like every other good person in his life before me.
I had always known he was protective of me, he was always walking me to school and taking me to the beach but never letting me go out too far. He was a wonderful big brother and now I was letting him down. I felt wretched about that but didn’t see a way to change it.
Kyle came out to join us and I was relieved to be free of Bish’s thoughts. Until Kyle swam to me, too close.
“Hey, Maggie, you look a little peeved. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just...listening,” I said low where only he could hear me and he nodded.
“Aha. Well, stop it if it’s upsetting you. Let’s do something fun. Wanna get in the hot tub with me?” he asked and grinned, raising his eyebrows.
“Not really, Kyle. I’m kinda tired already. We’ve been doing laps all morning.
“Well, the hot tub will do you good then.” He moved to stand almost behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “It’ll work out the tension and kinks.”
I shrugged his hands off.
“Kyle, don’t.”
“What? I’m just trying to help.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I rebutted and started to swim away. He grabbed my hand to stop me.
“Why are you always running away from me?”
“You’re always acting inappropriate.”
“You never even gave me a chance,” he said hotly and pulled me closer. “If only you had stopped being so stubborn before you met Caleb and went out with me, we’d be together now. Not you and him.” He wrapped his arm around my bare waist, his face on my ear. I tried to keep calm so Caleb wouldn’t come running and beat the stew out of Kyle, which is exactly what would happen if he saw him right then. “It should have been me. If only you had touched me first.”
I pushed at him but he held tight. Bish looked at me funny and started to come our way but I held up a hand to him.
I saw visions, Kyle’s memories, of him watching me at lunch as I laughed at something someone said. One of when I was dressed as a fairy for some
He missed something he’d never had.
Though he’d never had a girlfriend he wasn’t a virgin. He’d had sex once when he was thirteen on a dare with a girl he barely knew and never saw her again. He was constantly in trouble with the law as a kid because of running away or hanging out with the wrong people. His real parents were lowlifes. His dad was a jerk who beat his mom and his mom had been resentful because she was stuck with a kid and a husband that didn’t want one.
She beat him, kicked him, starved him and eventually abandoned him when he was seven. She packed his Dad and her things and left Bish there alone in their apartment. After some time a neighbor called the police and they took him to social services. They shoved him into one horrendous foster home after another. Every now and then he’d get a really good, nice place but they’d yank him out and move him before he could really have any peace.
I tried not to just sit in his brain all day but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Some people’s thoughts were more loud and forceful than others I’ve realized.
It was painful to see his memories, to see what he went though before he met us.
His memories of meeting my parents were priceless. They had gone through all the stuff they were supposed to, the classes and home evaluations and decided instead of adopting a child, they’d adopt an older kid because their seemed to be a lot of them and no one else wanted them.
His memory of them was almost angelic, they were glowing and smiling too widely. My mom’s hands were too soft when she touched his shoulder. My dad’s grip was too friendly when he shook his hand. Once again, Bish memories were skewed and altered to fit, like a child’s dream or something.
When he met me, he saw a small, helpless, adorable little girl who desperately needed protecting. Like every other good person in his life before me.
I had always known he was protective of me, he was always walking me to school and taking me to the beach but never letting me go out too far. He was a wonderful big brother and now I was letting him down. I felt wretched about that but didn’t see a way to change it.
Kyle came out to join us and I was relieved to be free of Bish’s thoughts. Until Kyle swam to me, too close.
“Hey, Maggie, you look a little peeved. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just...listening,” I said low where only he could hear me and he nodded.
“Aha. Well, stop it if it’s upsetting you. Let’s do something fun. Wanna get in the hot tub with me?” he asked and grinned, raising his eyebrows.
“Not really, Kyle. I’m kinda tired already. We’ve been doing laps all morning.
“Well, the hot tub will do you good then.” He moved to stand almost behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “It’ll work out the tension and kinks.”
I shrugged his hands off.
“Kyle, don’t.”
“What? I’m just trying to help.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I rebutted and started to swim away. He grabbed my hand to stop me.
“Why are you always running away from me?”
“You’re always acting inappropriate.”
“You never even gave me a chance,” he said hotly and pulled me closer. “If only you had stopped being so stubborn before you met Caleb and went out with me, we’d be together now. Not you and him.” He wrapped his arm around my bare waist, his face on my ear. I tried to keep calm so Caleb wouldn’t come running and beat the stew out of Kyle, which is exactly what would happen if he saw him right then. “It should have been me. If only you had touched me first.”
I pushed at him but he held tight. Bish looked at me funny and started to come our way but I held up a hand to him.
I saw visions, Kyle’s memories, of him watching me at lunch as I laughed at something someone said. One of when I was dressed as a fairy for some
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