Asunder

Chapter 20 - The Gift

My finger shakes as I push in the doorbell.

Ding dong.

I rock forwards on my toes and push out an unstable breath. Staring at the scratches in the wooden door in front of me, I brace myself for the sound of footsteps from beyond.

That first visit at Emma's house lasted longer than I think both of us had expected. After we had a pool war, she and I conceptualized the perfect dessert box. It took a few days of planning, then an entire day of baking, but we ended up with something more than satisfactory. Though we did much more laughing than working.

For those few days, I found myself looking forward to the visits. Alone in her sunny kitchen, with flour all over the floor, we talked about school and the teachers and laughed our bellies sore. Sometimes, paw prints would appear in the spilled sugar on the floor, but Dog always seemed to disappear before anyone could catch her.

We put on music and I watched her lip sync to her favorite songs, wooden spoon in hand and face locked into the performance. Somehow, Emma knows almost every word to every song ever. When the lyrics slipped her mind, she made up for it by busting out a hilarious dance move. And when it was time for me to go, I left with a lasting smile, and with chocolate smears on my clothes.

I don't know whether the smile or the chocolate was more surprising to Sky; when I'd arrive back home, I always sat out on my balcony and threw a rock on his patio. He came outside surprisingly quickly, amused at the switch in roles, and even more amused at the brown mess on my shirt. I never gave him any hints: I only played dumb and shrugged at every burning question out of his mouth. He seemed half bemused, half ready to rip my head off for keeping him in the dark. Which encouraged me to keep silent even more.

We talked a lot too, these past days. I let our unusual banter widen my smile, and found his to be bright as the sun. I found that midnight, I could never sleep. But I wasn't tired. The moonlight cane in from the blinds at my balcony window, creating shapes on my floor, and I'd reach a hand out to see the shred of moonbeam dance along my fingertips. Then, a feeling or an impulse kept my entire existence glued to that of the balcony.

James or Hana would sometimes walk out with him, and invite me over. I couldn't ever refuse, and so a lot of time was spent all together in their garden. And if ever my shirt was brown with chocolate after a visit at Emma's, it was brown with dirt after an hour at Sky's: Hana and I would plant some new flowers for the summer, and the boys took care of watering them and mowing the lawn. Hana would say: Not because I can't do it. But because I no want to. The boys don't seem to have an issue with that philosophy.

I found myself learning from Hana to hold and to touch the flowers with care and prudence. I did my part in their garden, not letting a single petal droop or rip in my hands. The attention drained my energy, but I still wanted to come back and plant more pockets of color in the yard. I still returned, even with my father's solid looks of disapproval and dissent. Even when those looks would appear in my dreams.

They'd all ask me questions about why I'd always come over with such dirty clothes, but of course the secret had to be kept. So I'd dodge Hana's pouts and James' sharp shooting questions. Sky only laughed at their failed attempts at budging me, and told me whatever it was that I was doing, it seemed to make me happy when I came over. So he was glad. Though when his parents' hands and eyes were busy, he sometimes threw me a glare at my secrecy, to which I always and consistently responded with shrugs.

But of course, the secret had to come out eventually.

And so now here I stand, at their door, with a box under my arm and a tremor in my hand.