The Undoing of Sidekicks | ✓

ten

(a/n: dedicated to MariemMostafa857 for reminding me that we'd reached the goal!)

ten

"TAKE A right here."

The lights of my neighborhood were soft and smudged as we passed them. Josh drove carefully, listening intently to my instructions. I could see worried creases lining his face, a question hidden beneath the folds of his expression. 

I had only briefly explained the severity of the situation. There had been some mumbling, no doubt, and some hasty detailing of my actual living situation. He probably thought I lived in some shared group home, instead of an actual orphanage. 

You've no time to fix his understanding now, anyway. 

I directed him around the last bend, the Sylvester House appearing before us. It rose from the ground like a brick behemoth, cast in shadows and walled in by the iron fence. My heart sunk as I watched it, imagining Josh's reaction. Not that I cared about what he thought. 

It just ... doesn't look like a home. At the thought, a spear lanced through my heart. My eyes fastened themselves on the wrought iron gates, and on the plaque beside them. The light from the car headlights illuminated their letters. 

Sylvester Orphanage. 

I swallowed, then unfastened my seatbelt. 

"This right?" asked Josh. His voice was mellow. I was already halfway out of the car, one foot on the ground. There was an almost shameful expression on my face, one I squashed. I was almost annoyed at myself. 

There's nothing to be ashamed of. 

Yet even though I drilled these words into my head, they didn't seem to land. Not entirely, as I still felt a tangible sense of shame and inferiority burrowing itself deep into my soul. 

"Yeah." I paused. "It's right."

Josh didn't move, and neither did I. Through the murky dark, I watched the house. My head told me to hurry, yet my feet remained plastered to the ground. My eyes shifted to Josh's face, finding his dark eyes already studying my face. 

The dim light cast deep shadows along his face, underlining sharp cheekbones, a defined jaw. Yet there was an understanding there, an almost soft side to the look his eyes attempted to conveying. 

Swallowing once again, I moved the last bit out of the car. My throat had gone dry, yet I forced words through it as I addressed him again. 

"A secret for a secret." My lips quirked. "I'll keep yours." 

He leaned back against the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel still. Something ticked in his jaw, as he seemed to weigh his options. Then, his eyes carefully ran across the letters of the plaque beside the gate. 

Sylvester Orphanage. 

Whatever he was thinking of seemed to click into place. Slowly, gravely, he tilted his head my way. A silent understanding passed between us. 

"A secret for a secret." He responded, voice deep. 

Our eyes met, before they studied the figure in the backseat. Maddy was half-asleep by now, head resting against the seat as she exhaled softly.