Tightrope

Chapter 3

(Content warning: Consensual sex between minors. If that isn't your cup of Çay, the end of the chapter can be skipped without losing out on the story.)

Istanbul, March 2007

Sanem waited on the garden path where she, Can, and Emre met every morning to walk to school together. She heard the door close, and, as always, her heart sped up in anticipation of seeing Can.

But the person who came toward her wasn't Can; it was Hüma. Sanem crossed her arms and curled her shoulders in. Hüma was never kind to Sanem, and Sanem had always felt her dislike and disapproval.

"Good morning, Hüma Hanım ," Sanem said politely, expecting a biting comment in return.

"Why do you wait here for Can every morning, girl? I'm sure you could make it to school on your own. Can should be walking with his brother."

"All three of us walk together, Hüma Hanım. And Can asks me to wait for him. We have all been friends for 10 years and we have always walked to school together. I'm sorry if that makes you unhappy; that is certainly not my intention." She cleared her throat and raised her chin and added, "Also, just in case you've forgotten, my name is Sanem."

Hüma's blue eyes widened in surprise at Sanem's boldness. "You are forgetting your place, girl," Hüma said, venom dripping from her voice. "You are too close to my son. I hope you don't think he'd ever be interested in you as anything but a football partner and plaything. Remember who you are and who he is."

Anger rose in Sanem's chest and her heart sped up for a different reason. She really wished she didn't have to be respectful to this woman, and she couldn't believe her sweet Can shared Hüma's DNA. Just as she opened her mouth to reply, she saw Can and Emre come up the path behind Hüma. Can had apparently heard the last part of what Hüma said, because he walked purposefully toward her and his eyes were blazing.

"Hüma," he said--he never called her 'anne'. "You have no right to speak to her that way, and you have no right to decide who can and cannot be in my life."

She turned on her saccharine voice, "Cancim, perhaps you misunderstood..."

"I don't think there is any way I could have misunderstood what you said," he said, standing over her at his full height. He had hit a growth spurt the previous summer and he was almost six feet tall. "I'm tired of you treating her like she's less than you are. She isn't." He took Sanem's hand. "She's the best person I know, and she knows me better than anyone. You need to get used to that, because she will always be in my life."

He turned toward Emre and said, "Let's go. We'll be late for school." He started walking, not realizing he was pulling Sanem faster than she could walk and she was having to run to keep up with him.

When they were outside of the gate and a little ways down the road, Sanem had to slow him down. "Can. Can! Slow down. I have little legs; I can't keep up with you," Sanem said, trying for levity. She stopped where she was, forcing him to stop, too. He turned around and looked down at her smiling up at him impishly and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Abi, I'm going ahead. I'll see you there," Emre said, smiling and shaking his head. He was used to these two and their lovey-dovey behavior. Can nodded. "See you, Sanem."

"See you later, Emre," she said, turning her smile toward him.

Emre walked away, and Can turned back to look at Sanem. He brought his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down and kissed her other cheek. "I'm sorry, Sanem. I hate seeing her treat you that way. I don't know what she has against you."