UNSEEN

EIGHT

We're in the elevator together.

"There's something I need to talk to you about." He says it like he means it, no bullshit. He has an assertiveness in his poise, just like Liv liked it. She was fond of guys who'd tell her what to do, 'protect' her and have their way in bed. She was a cavewoman, and it disgusted me. Still does.

I don't look at him when I say "I'm going somewhere, actually."

"I'll give you a ride."

I usually don't take favours, any favours. But my leg still hurts, and I could really use a lift. I nod my head in agreement. He gives me a sly smile and I instantly regret my decision.

"Isn't he a sweetheart?" She says, standing next to him. I roll my eyes. I glance at him once more. He is good-looking, hands down. His blonde hair is smooth and his shoulders are broad and his smile is flashy. But when I look deep into his eyes, I see an asshole. It's not me, it's his eyes. They give something away.

The elevator door opens and I see his bike. I've never been on a bike ride.

"Here." He hands me a blue helmet as he puts on a black one. I wonder why he has two. Did he know he was going to take me home before he even came here? Or was he here with someone? It doesn't matter, because for the first time in a long time, I feel something. I feel the most insignificant, unenthusiastic version of excitement. It's the best I can do.

The numbing gale hits my face and I can't but close my eyes, with all intentions of never opening them again. Sometimes, and I realize this as the whole city passes me by, the cold is the only thing that keeps us warm.

The breeze takes my back to when we were kids. We were still too old to be on the swings, but then, nobody is ever too old for swings. We'd try to go higher than each other and then jump to see who could go further.

Then, our wonderful mother would call out to us. Next to her, would be a man. A different man every time. The man would shake our hand or pat us on the shoulders and tell us he was mom's friend.

Frank, Dave, Chris and Pete, Connor, Seth, Malcolm and Steve. There were two named Ethan too.

Liv would be nice to them, get them to buy her stuff. She'd even tell them that they made mom very happy. She didn't mean any of that crap.

She had figured people out at a very young age. I sucked, though. I'd stand outside mom's bedroom door and weep, listening to all the weird sounds they made.

It's a little pathetic how I don't remember what it's like to cry. I last cried when I was eleven, looking at my dead father. But when sadness hit me two months ago, it felt like there was an ocean building behind my eyes, with no shore for the tides to crash into.

The bike isn't moving anymore. I open my eyes and realize I'm clutching Andrew's shirt. I get off and return his helmet.

All of a sudden, he grabs my wrist. "It's about Evan." And with the same suddenness, I'm all ears.

"A couple of weeks before she died, I was out for my granddad's funeral. She called me one night and she sounded so-" a pause. "so scared."

He let go of my wrist and continued. "She said she found Evan's pen-drive and that he wasn't who he claimed to be. I was sad, Reece, and naturally, I thought she was doing her usual act. She did that a lot. I should've called her that week. I didn't. The evening I came back, I was too lazy to go meet her. The next morning, it was too late." His eyes are wet and his lips are curled. He looks like he genuinely cared for my sister. Or he's an excellent actor.

"Do you know where the pen-drive is?" I ask.

"No. But she was over at Hailey's that night. I'm sure she knows."

"So, why don't you just go and ask Hailey?"

He laughs with a sad monotone.

"Everyone thinks I'm a murderer. You don't know what it's like in school."

I laugh. "You do realize Calum has it worse, right? Being the jealous ex-boyfriend and all?"

He looks into my soul. He doesn't like Calum. He never has. And somehow, he feels my hostility toward him is because of Calum. Poor lad, he has no idea. 

"You've always been fond of him."

"I don't want to slit his throat, so maybe."

He looks away in anger. Then, he freezes. I follow his gaze and see Evan standing at the kitchen window, staring at us.

And then I see it, the evil in his eyes. How come I never saw it before?

"You see that?" Andrew asks. I nod.

"I should go." I say. "I'll see what I can do." I try to sound like I don't need his help, when I really do. I turn and walk home.

Inside, I hear my mother crying. First, I figure it's about the things I said to her at the hospital.

I walk into the room. She's sobbing, the phone is placed in front of her. Evan brings her a glass of water from the kitchen. She looks at me with crippling pain in her eyes. I want to help her.

But then she says it.

She says the words and I lose it completely.

I try to hold it in. I try but I laugh so loud, I shock the shit out of everyone in the room. And I thought the bike ride was the best thing that happened to me all day.

"Nana's dead." She says.