The house no one Knows about

THIRTEEN

I have to get Gabe out of here but I also want Bambi to understand that she can trust Gabe the way I trust him but she refuses to acknowledge the words I say to her through the locked door of her bedroom.

'Bambi, please just open the door'

No answer.

'I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before'

Still no answer.

'Bambi you said that you want me to stay and now you're literally shutting me out. Just listen to me please'

The door opens slowly.

'I trusted you. This house is meant to be a secret'

'Why?'

She hesitates before answering.

'You, you are the reason why this house should be a secret. The whole of Charlotte is looking for you. If they find you here, I could be arrested'

'I trust Gabe'

'I don't and I own this house'

'That's the problem, you don't. I've known him my whole life, he's a good person and I don't depend on anyone the way I depend on him'

'So?'

'He knows everything about me, he's kept all my secrets since the first grade and I bet he'll keep yours too'

'This is our secret, never forget'

She walked down the stairs the same way she walked up the stairs; toes down, heels up. She shook Gabe's hand but she didn't smile. Then I realise, that I've never really seen her smile, whenever she smiles her face is either covered by her hair or her hands. Gave left soon after and once again it was back to the two of us. She stood at the kitchen counter, facing the door and watched him drive off. When she spoke she didn't turn around to face me.

'What's the most imperative thing in your life that only you and Gabe talk about?'

'My parents and the Hana Incident'

'What's the Hana Incident?'

'Hana was my sister; she was eighteen when it started. My parents always preferred her to me because she was good at everything, she had the better taste and everything, but whenever my parents would pick on me for no reason, she would always defend me. So she went to college and became my parents' worst nightmare; parties, drinking, reckless driving, boyfriends and bad grades. We didn't hear anything from her for two years. Then one day we got a call from a hospital, that Hana had a miscarriage. We went there to see her and she looked pretty bad. She was crying and my parents were only interested in the "idiocy of her actions". So all they did was to yell at her and refused to speak to her properly.

'The next few days she had to come home because she was weak. My parents refused to acknowledge her presence. Days after she had a car accident and she was fine except for a few broken ribs and a fractured ankle so she couldn't go back to school early. While she was at home, my parents refused to let her watch TV, swim, cook, walk in the gardens, drive their cars and use their credit cards but she didn't really care; she used Netflix to watch TV, she cooked in her friends' houses, she took power walks everywhere, she bought me the Ferrari and took over it before I was able to drive and she got debit cards but it got worse.

'They stopped her from eating. She was actually grateful for that because in our family we eat, animal parts that no-one else knows about. She started buying take-outs and eating at restaurants and sometime she'd take me too. Then they started locking her out but I always had a spare key on me so I'd let her in. Eventually they got tired of losing and kicked her out and she moved in with a friend. She wrote a letter to them to try and explain everything and they replied without even reading her letter. They said "Never ever call us mum and dad for as long as you live, never speak to us again, you are an ignominy and we will never forgive you even if we were held at gunpoint and those words would save us" ' I swallow hard unwilling to put myself through it again. Bambi cocks her head to the right, aware of the established silence. 'She swallowed five bullets two weeks after, she couldn't take it anymore'

Her hands reached my wet face before I even noticed that I was crying.

'I'm so sorry'

'Gabe was the only other person who couldn't look at her grave'

Then I walk out of the door unsure of where I am going.

* * *

It is eleven o' clock and he still isn't back. I have to admit, I am terrified. He doesn't know this place he way I do. What if he gets lost? What if the police catch him? It makes me sick just thinking about and pacing is only making it worse. I push past the door, more than determined to find him. Wandering through the cluster of trees and bushes that surround my house at night is not a wise thing to do; especially while it's really late. It is so dark and almost impossible to see. I hold out my hands to feel for any trees in my way. I trip over what seems to be a root and graze my knee but it doesn't hurt, I can't feel anything. I lean against the trunk of a tree and try to imagine what T.A.A.B.W.I.A.W.A.D.A.F.458.I could be doing. When I stand up, a cold hand presses against my mouth, I freeze and try to convince myself that he isn't setting me up and he was never working with the police.

'Put your hands up' the voice commands.

Now I'm dead, I have so much dirt on my name that I would undeniably go to jail for life. My trembling hands find themselves above my head. The voice tells me to close my eyes and I do even without seeing the difference; it's pitch black with my eyes open and closed.

'Open your eyes'

It's T.A.A.B.W.I.A.W.A.D.A.F.458.I; I saw his legendary grin when I opened my eyes. He can't contain his laughter and laughs as hard and loud as possible and I don't tell him to shut up because I was still in shock, but I am relieved at how happy he is even though his cheeks are tinted with tear stains.

'It's not funny'

He continues to laugh.

'Come on, it's hilarious' he insists.

Even though I know he is safe, the tears in my eyes still pour out mostly because I'm so scared and I was more than worried about him.

'Hey, don't cry. Look at me' he raises my chin gently 'You're okay and I'm okay'

His blue eyes look so earnest and I knew what the moment required. So when our foreheads were pressed against each other, I didn't resist. And he kisses me so gently that I almost don't feel it. My hands are in his hair and I just love the smell of his skin.

'How long have you been waiting for his?' I ask him even though I am breathless.

'Ever since the pizza and chocolate-covered strawberry day we had in my house'

I nod taking in a deep breath.

'Glad we're on the same page'

When I kneel in front of the headstones, I'm not afraid to spill everything and I'm smiling so much and I'm so happy because of him. I realise that I no longer call them mum and dad but Stephen Kingman and Haley Kingman. They were very successful people. They were called the leaders of the re-renaissance if there was ever one. They were the world's greatest engineers and architects and psychologists and musicians but now they are the worst catastrophic story in the world. I kiss the headstones and stroke the tattoo on the back of my neck; trying to remember what Mercedes would have done.