CH. 3
POV: KORI
I can't stop staring at him. I haven't for the past two weeks.
He ignores me, which only infuriates me more.
"You know, I'm feeling tacos tonight," Grace says cheerfully, like I'm not sitting across the table from her seething. "I've always liked Taco Thursday more than Taco Tuesday. Maybe I can subconsciously get my mom to make tacos."
"I've got to talk to him," I growl.
"No, you don't," she says, not taking her eyes off her homework. "Why on Earth would you do that."
"I've got to face him. I've got to talk to him!" I feel like a balloon about to burst. "Almost a decade of torture, and then he's just gone! And now he's back, and-"
"And you have the option to just leave it alone. What is picking a fight with him going to do?"
"I'm not picking a fight. I'm just...questioning him."
"Right, like he'll tell you anything."
I can feel the frustration building up. "I just...I just want to know..."
Know what? I sigh, leaning my head down onto the desk. I really just want to chase him down and smack him and demand he tell me everything. Why he always hated me growing up. Why he left that day four years ago. If he's got any connection to Hannah's injuries, or Austin's coma, or if I'm right to believe in him.
Ugh, is that what I'm doing? Believing in him?
Grace pokes my head with the back of her pencil. "Why are you obsessing over this? I thought you hated him."
"I do."
"Then you should be glad he's not bothering you. He's finally grown up, Kori. Come on, my mom's outside." I hear the sound of Grace's chair scooting back, and I look up at her. She shrugs. "This is good, girl. Him ignoring you is a dream come true, right?"
I say nothing.
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It's like he's avoiding me on purpose. In class, he always stares straight ahead, his head in his palms, never glancing at me once. I feel like I'm going insane, plus today is Friday. If I don't talk to him, I'll actually explode over the weekend. So as soon as the bell rings, I jump up from my seat. He's already halfway out the door by the time I've got my backpack, like he can smell the anger on me, and I run after him down the hall. "Hey, Ryland!"
He doesn't stop walking.
I reach out and grab his backpack, pulling it towards me. "Could you wait, please?"
He stops then, and I run into the back of him. He turns and gives me a once-over. "What?"
Now that he's right in front of me, I have no idea what I want to say. I pull my hand back, saying, "You're impossibly hard to track down when you want to be."
He raises an eyebrow. "Is this the start of a welcome back speech? A bit overdue, but I’ll allow it."
"Of course not," I scoff, then I sigh. I really have no idea what I want to say. Tilting my head, I ask, "What's wrong with you, huh? What's your problem?"
"You," Ryland snaps back instantly. "It's always you."
"Yeah, the feeling's mutual." I wrinkle my nose at him, crossing my arms. I don't know if I'm relieved or not to fall back into our old dynamic, even with four years of distance. "I mean you're acting funny. And you look like shit, by the way."
He really does look awful. I'd noticed a few days ago that he looked off, but he's even worse up close. His black hair is disheveled, and he's got dark circles under his eyes. It's like there's this droopy haze covering him. Ryland's eyes are usually a deep gray, but sometimes as a kid they'd shine bright like silver if they caught the light. Silver, but more magnificent than that. The kind of silver artists could only dream of painting.
Today, his eyes are the color of wet cement.
Ryland snorts. "Thanks for that. You're not looking too ripe yourself, Kiwi."
Of course I'm not, and it's his fault! How was I supposed to eat or sleep these past two weeks, knowing he was plotting against me? I've been waiting for the day where he continues where he left off four years ago. As big as we are now, he just might jump me.
But now he's here, and if he's just going to keep on doing what he's doing and ignoring me, then I should at least get to hit him for putting me through all the stress.
"Is this what you stopped me for?" he asks, meeting my eyes. "To piss me off? Well, mission accomplished. No one does it like you, do they?"
"No!" I shake my head, frustrated. "No, that's-that's not why. I want...I just want..." My words are getting jumbled, and my tongue's knotted. "I just want to talk to you. About...everything."
Ryland scrunches up his face. "There's nothing to talk about."
I sigh. Then, "I want...an apology."
His eyebrows raise. "A what?"
"Look, I'm sorry for how things were when we were kids," I say, tugging at the ends of my hair. Sometimes when I'm nervous, I like to pull the strands of blue into my vision. Just to remind myself that they're there, and that something about me is wildly different than the rest, and that it's okay. "I don't know what I did to make you hate me, but this thing between us is beyond stupid. We're both pretty much adults now. We can't go on acting like this. I'm willing to overlook the past if you apologize, and maybe we can start fresh. Plus, after everything that happened...well, it just seems stupid to keep going on like this."
Ryland looks like he wants to laugh. "Wow. Great speech. Very moving. Is this the part where I'm allowed to throw tomatoes?"
My face heats up instantly. "Dick."
"Yes, I do have one, but we're in public, Kiwi." He rolls his eyes. "You know, it's like you're still stuck in freaking elementary school. Want me to hold your hand and walk you through the grocery store, too?"
I growl, gritting my teeth. "Forget it. You're just the same as you were in eighth grade. I can't believe I thought you were mature enough to own up to your own actions. I'll never understand how you and Archer are related."
His eyes narrow then. Quick as lightning, he leans down until our noses are almost touching. "Me either," he hisses. "Maybe that's the hint."
He turns then and continues walking. I'm visibly shaking, but I watch him walk away. The conversation replays over and over in my mind for the rest of the day. What did his last sentence mean?
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I think I scare my brother when I throw the front door open and stomp into the house. He's in the kitchen placing croissants on a pan, and he's watching me with wide eyes as I come around the corner. "Uh, bad day at school?"
"Freaking Ryland Park!" I throw my bag down. "As kids he could never stay away from me, and now he's acting like I've got the plague or something! He's talked to everyone but me!"
Kansas thinks for a second. "Yeah, we talked after third period the other day," he says. "Ryland's, like, way taller than me now. It’s kinda crazy."
I groan. "He's avoiding me! He doesn't want to face the consequences of his past! I just want to grab him by the collar and shake him. God, if I were Archer, I would never want anyone to know I was related to that self-obsessed, oxygen-wasting, human form of pollution!"
Kansas clicks his tongue. "That's...harsh."
"It's true. Ryland's an asshole, even to Archer, who treats him with nothing but kindness."
Kansas picks up the pan and turns around, placing it in the oven. When he turns back to face me, he looks troubled. "Hey, Kor, can I talk to you for a second?”
“What are we doing right now?”
“No, like seriously. We need to talk.”
I blink at him, but then sit down at the kitchen table facing him. "Alright, what's up?"
Kansas lifts his glasses and rubs his eyes. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I know you and Ryland don’t get along. Honestly, he doesn't really get along with anyone but that Eddie kid, but he seems to have a personal vendetta against you. So, I was thinking that if you knew part of the reason why he's such an asshole, you’d kind of tone it down a little.”
I let out a snort. Doubtful. “Whatever. Go on.”
He squints at me. “Okay, think back to when we were kids. Maybe, around 7 ish. Do you remember what Ryland and Archer were like? Back when they first started going to Claire Byrd Elementary with the rest of us.”
Of course not. I lean forward and lay out on the table, placing my cheek against the cool wood. “No, Kansas, I don’t. That was ten years ago.”
“Well, I do. They were nothing like how they are now. They were way closer, and a lot more protective of each other. But in all that time,” he says, “do you ever remember seeing Ryland’s mom?”
I sit up now, thinking. “His mom? Yeah, of course. She and their dad used to come and pick them up from school all the time.”
Kansas shakes his head. “Kor, do you even remember what she looked like?
I think back to when we were in elementary school. I used to watch their parents come and pick them up every day, and I would wave goodbye to Archer. The woman that came along with their father was tall and beautiful, with long fawn colored hair and matching eyes like Archer.
I pause.
Just like Archer.
Kansas is still talking. “She was the spitting image of Archer. Polar opposite of Ryland.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Ryland and Archer have different moms. Was that not clear? I thought I’d made that relatively clear…”
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. I'd always noticed that Ryland and Archer looked nothing alike, but I had never put two and two together. Not like that.
Kansas leans back against the counter behind him. “Basically, their dad was seeing both their moms at the same time back in college. And by the time Ryland’s mom found out, she was already pregnant and so was Archer’s mom.”
Ouch. That…sucks.
Kansas notes my facial expression and nods. “Yeah. When it came down to who he would choose, their dad chose Archer’s mom instead of Ryland’s. So, they didn’t really grow up together at first. Ryland’s mom wanted nothing to do with him, unless it was absolutely necessary. But she always tried her hardest to give him the best childhood growing up.”
Kansas pauses, then places his head in his hands and huffs. “You know, I’m not supposed to be telling you this," he says. "Their dad didn’t want people to know about it, but Archer had a big mouth as a kid.” Kansas lifts his head, locking eyes with me. “Just…I don’t know, Kor. Ryland didn’t have a great childhood growing up, alright? To be completely honest, it kinda sucked. He never told me everything, but he told me enough. And when the time comes, I know he’ll tell you himself. So just…go easy on him for now.” He shakes his head and sighs again. "And after everything with those kids, Hannah and Austin, I just...I don't know, Kor. Maybe it's best to stay out of his way, you know?"
My throat feels dry. I have a lot of questions, but Kansas looks like he doesn’t want to say anything else. How long has he known all this? He was close with Archer and Ryland in elementary and middle school, but I never knew they were this close.
Archer, with his light brown hair cropped short and big, brown eyes. His soft smile, rounded face, and tanned skin.
Ryland, with his long, tousled jet-black hair swept over his forehead and gray eyes. His pale skin and sarcastic, troublemaker smirk.
How had I truly never noticed?
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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So, half-brothers. And our first real conversation between Kori and Ryland. It was a train wreck, but progress is progress.
-Zuffy <3
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