Night Children

17

A hand shook me awake when the sun came up, and I groaned, rolling over and pressing my pillow down over my head. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I was positive that I hadn't yet gotten enough sleep. Everything of me felt sluggish and fatigued, like sleep was still clinging to me.

The pillow over my head vanished, then came down again, smacking me against the ear. Another groan escaped me. "Theo," said a voice, one that I recognized as my brother's. He sounded oddly solemn. Once again, I wasn't sure what time it was, but it was still too early for this. "Theo, get up already."

"I don't want to," I protested. I tried to tug my comforter up above my head, but Alfie smacked me again. "What's the big idea? Can't you just—"

"It's literally one in the afternoon. You're lucky it's the weekend or you'd be screwed," Alfie replied. Heaving a long sigh, he tossed my sheets off of me, gripping both my arm and dragging me from my bed until I collapsed in a hazy, bleary-eyed heap on the floor. There was a loud thud that made me worry I'd have a few bruises later.

I rolled over, shielding my eyes from the onslaught of sunlight that day brought with it. Alfie stood over me, his eyes more dark and menacing than I remembered, the glare of light in his glasses not enough to hide the dismay in his expression. Frowning, I sat up. "What's wrong, Alfie?"

"Mom and Dad are downstairs, waiting for you. They said they want to talk to you."

I bit down on my lip. There were only two things, really, this could be about: my grades, which, last time I checked, were pretty okay, or Cal, which, last time I checked, they did not know about.

In fact, there was only one person who knew I was still seeing her.

Suddenly, it all cleared.

I got to my feet, stepping forward and seizing Alfie's shirt collar in my grip. He seemed stunned, his eyes flashing wide, his mouth falling open. I gritted my teeth. "If you told them, I swear to God, I'll never trust you again."

Alfie snorted, forcing my hand from him. "Cool your jets, man. You really think I'd do that?"

With a heavy sigh of relief, I started for my bedroom door, which was now swung wide open. Cal's words from last night kept echoing within my head, no matter how much I told myself that they were stupid and they didn't mean anything. The people closest to you are the ones you know the least. It wasn't true, not for me. I knew my family. I trusted them, and they had never thrown that back in my face. Not yet, not ever.

"You know, you're the one who's bad at keeping secrets," Alfie said as we made our way down the stairs, in the direction of the kitchen. "Not me."

I turned a dubious look at him, at the smirk on his face, the few curls that had escaped the miniature bun he'd tied. I didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying you're not being all that discreet," Alfie answered with a shrug, and when I opened my mouth to protest, shushed me. "Oh, shh. You'll see."

Oh, shh; you'll see was something people said before they presented a surprise. Like a birthday party or a present or an engagement ring. It was not something people said before turning the corner and sitting you down in front of two parents who both had quite disapproving looks on their faces. So if Alfie hadn't told them, what on earth was this about?

I sat opposite my parents at the dining table, Alfie going to poke around in the fridge as what I was sure was a cover for eavesdropping. I tried to act like I wasn't uncomfortable, but I was sure it wasn't working. I couldn't help but squirm underneath my parents' gazes, my mother eyeing my every move, my father with one eyebrow risen.