Page 96 of Challenge Me

He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything.

“If you can’t answer, your logic is bullshit,” I said.

“Or I don’t have an answer. Let me try one on you. Why do you want me to stick around?”

“Simple. Because not everything worth keeping comes easy, and you feel worth keeping.”

And there it was again—that intoxicating vulnerability. It was quickly slipping away, morphing into the cloak he wore to keep everyone at arm’s length, to turn his life into one of those moments where the sunshine cut through the rain while it continued to fall. It was a strange sort of beauty, the intersection of two things not meant to exist symbiotically, and it also left me uncertain of what to expect from one moment to the next.

I stroked his cheekbone. “I see you clearly, and I don’t want to stop.”

“How’d you pull that answer out of your ass so quickly?”

“I may not wax eloquent the way you do; I speak plainly. That makes it easy to answer because I’m just telling the truth. It’s simple.”

“We have different definitions of simple.”

“Yeah, that’s because even when you tell the truth, you spend time thinking about how to tell the truth. And when you do that, you can leave it up to interpretation.”

His lips were thin as he listened to me. Instinctually, I wanted to backtrack, but that wasn’t the way I wanted to shape our relationship—walking on eggshells and softening our blows. He was more than that. I was more than that. We could be more than that.

“My parents weren’t addicts,” he said suddenly. Taking me by the waist, he directed me to move off of him. He tucked his arm beneath me and pulled me against him, the same way I’d held him while we slept.

With my head on his chest, I ran my fingers down his sternum. “I’ve never been held like this before. It feels like I’m too big.”

“You’re not. You’re just right.”

I smiled, grateful that he couldn’t see me right now. “So, your parents weren’t addicts.”

“Nope.”

“But you said—”

“And I meant it. Drugs did kill my parents. But they were simply the catalyst for evil.” He stroked my shoulder blades while I listened to the steady beat of his heart. “I didn’t have a messy life, as you put it. Far from it. My parents were both doctors in San Francisco. We had a decent place outside the city. Three bedrooms, a fenced backyard, a hamster, a Labrador, the whole shebang.”

“Sounds serene.”

“It was.”

“What happened?” I dug my fingers into his chest as if he might bolt.

He took a steady breath, his heart rate remaining constant. “They worked at a clinic that was open late. When they were leaving, some people came and stopped them. They wanted drugs from the pharmacy inside. When my parents refused, well, they didn’t like that. And in one fell swoop, I became an orphan that night. At least the bastards didn’t get their drugs, though.”

I wasn’t sure if it was better to look at him or remain where I was. He cared about his parents; I knew that with absolute certainty despite the detached tone of his voice.

Lifting my head, I found him staring out the window. He must’ve been aware of me, but he didn’t turn.

“All I had were an aunt and cousin,” he went on without me having to ask. “I was with them for eleven months, but . . . Let’s just say things didn’t work out. Off I went to my first foster home.”

“Was it bad?”

“That one? Nah.” He looked up at the ceiling, and I saw the hint of a smile on his face. “They were a young couple that had fertility issues. They connected with me, and they actually talked about keeping me. Then they got pregnant unexpectedly, and well, being able to have their own family took precedence over some kid off the street.”

“They could’ve still kept you.”

“I don’t fault them. They were, like, twenty-five or something. Fostering, and especially adoption, is a lot to deal with. They probably gave me a false sense of hope for the system. I wasn’t prepared for what else was out there. I really wasn’t prepared.”

I lifted up on my elbow and unabashedly studied his face. He stared back at me, somehow both guarded and open. As I studied his eyes, I wondered if I’d recognize them when he was Mal’s age, back before the world betrayed him and forced him to hide behind the enigma of his verse.