ultraviolence // kai anderson

she knows

    It's the early days of December, and the weather isn't the only thing that's gone frigid: I still haven't heard from Kai since he stormed out on Thanksgiving. He isn't answering texts, calls, or even my knocks on his door the two times I could sneak over there. The closest thing I get to some sort of answer is Lacey uneasily telling me that everyone is okay-- but she sounds far from it. And if things are okay, why can't Kai tell me himself?

    I start to blame myself and wonder if I'd done something wrong, or not done something I should've. Did I ruin his image of me by letting him eat me out on his aunt's dresser? Should I have refused, or offered to be the one to go down instead?
No, those are things to be mildly and temporarily annoyed by, not ones to provoke the kind of reaction he'd had. I try to forget about the whole thing by the time Jace arrives; the Saturday night he'd asked to stay over has come at last.

    He enters the house with a black backpack slung over his shoulders and greets me without looking a second glance. When he drops his bag next to his legs as he plops down onto the couch with a sigh, I finally ask, "How's life?"

    "Ugh."

    "Yeah. Same here."

    "Mom and dad are up my ass about what I'm doing after graduation like it's not over a year away," he slides a hand down his face as he speaks, and I realize how much older he looks recently. He's actually got some width to his shoulders and is already my height, not to mention how his voice seemed to deepen overnight. My baby brother is nowhere near a baby anymore.

    "They did the same thing to me," I tell him. "And did not love any of my ideas."

    He breathes a laugh through his nose and says, "Well home-making seems to be working out perfectly fine for you."

    You have no idea. "Anything fun or exciting going on?"

    "Eh, I guess I've been hanging with this kid a little older than me; we've been out together pretty often I guess."

    "Oh?" I raise a brow. "A guy from school?"

    "No, not school, just around. And I..." he seems to be going back and forth in his mind, then says, "I think they don't really identify as a boy-- or a girl."

    My heart drops momentarily, but what are the odds right? It isn't that uncommon to meet someone nonbinary anymore. I keep my voice even when I nod and ask, "What's their name?"

    "It's Dakota."

    "No," I blurt immediately, losing all semblance of equanimity. "No, Jace."

    He twists his face up in confusion, "No what?"

    "You can't hang out with them. Please. Find an excuse to stop as soon as you can."

    Dakota's not a bad person-- relatively speaking. I like when they're around; they add some humor and excitement to our late night ventures. But they're also extremely unpredictable and easily triggered. And in a murderous cult. I can't have Jace messing around with someone like that, can't risk him getting involved on any scale.

    "What are you talking about? Why would I do that?"

     "They're not... good, okay? There's talk around here, I mean I've heard some things about them that I'd hate to see you get messed up in."

    "Okay mom," he replies sarcastically.

    The jest hits deeper than it should and I sigh with my eyes closed. It's suddenly not lost on me that I'm almost exactly what I'm accusing Dakota of being. "Look, just be careful, okay? Don't let them pressure you into anything you don't want to do, or be apart of."