《moonchildren》


 I. Alaskan Eyes.

    The last thing Ivo¡¯s aunt ever told him was that he was to blame for his father¡¯s death. He never believed this. His father¡¯s decisions were his own, and Ivo was a child: but Anika used to say he drove his father to madness, and Ivo used to say her husband married her out of pity. People grow up, and memories are unreliable. During his time on the streets, Ivo became very good at looking out for himself, and it wasn¡¯t as if anyone else would have done it anyway. There¡¯s no one to trust - except yourself. It was probably for the best, though it hadn¡¯t seemed this way at the time. Ivo was always Anika¡¯s biggest regret. Everyone knows this, even if no one ever says it.


    In his left hand, Ivo carries an iced coffee. In the pocket of his jeans, he stashes a pile of bills. Theft is easy to get away with, if you know where to go. As a homeless teenager, theft had been the only way to survive. As a working man, it¡¯s just a thrill. Living isn¡¯t cheap. Nobody asked to do it, anyway. There¡¯s something about living near the ocean. Juno sits on the floor, watching the oven, almost finished the cake she¡¯s baking. At random moments, Juno becomes nauseous and locks herself inside the bathroom. She never speaks of it.


    Ivo never pays rent on time, if he pays it at all. He never asked his cousins to give him a place to live, and really couldn¡¯t care less about their financial burdens. He hadn¡¯t minded being homeless; it saved money, and let him be nomadic. When Juno moved out of her parents¡¯ home, she insisted Ivo move in with her. If it weren¡¯t for her homemade meals and willingness to drive him around, he¡¯d leave everything behind again. Grabbing the rent money Juno placed on the table, Ivo wipes his tinted glasses on his sleeve. He has tunnel vision. With glasses, he sees nothing but very blurry outlines, shadows, and dull color. His glasses make him look like a bug, which people aren¡¯t shy about pointing out. Even with his glasses, he sometimes needs a cane. Ivo hates this. He¡¯s only eighteen, but walking with a cane makes him feel like an old man.


    Juno stands. She looks nothing like the rest of her family, and even less like Ivo. As a boy with no siblings, Ivo hadn¡¯t had the faintest knowledge of any family outside of his father. ¡°Give it back.¡±


    She¡¯s bald, and very thin, according to Ciel. Right in front of his face, everything looks like a blur. Ivo distinguishes people by their voices and footsteps, and this is what he¡¯s always done. It¡¯s only a matter of time before Juno dies. She speaks about the inevitable with tact and care, as if it hurts Ivo¡¯s feelings to hear about it. The kitchen smells like smoke. Juno¡¯s burned the cake, again. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Ivo¡¯s cousin used to say he wished he looked like Ivo. This was a stupid thing to wish for.


    Juno is eighteen years old. She¡¯s the middle child, which nobody ever cared about until she got sick. When she¡¯s frustrated, she speaks in Dutch. Ivo is Dutch too, and he shows off sometimes. When he lived with his aunt and uncle, they insisted the language never be spoken in their home. Despite this, Juno insisted on learning. ¡°I put my money on the table, and now it¡¯s gone! I know you took it, just like you take everything that doesn¡¯t belong to you. Give it back!¡± Juno¡¯s such a stickler. She doesn¡¯t stand for long periods of time, saying she becomes tired too easily. When he¡¯s not in school, Ivo works in a warehouse, possessing enough light perception in his left eye to stock shelves and run conveyor belts. He doesn¡¯t speak to other employees. Big corporations are corrupt, and don¡¯t work for their money. Instead, they force underclass citizens to work themselves to the bone, and then steal from them. There¡¯s nothing immoral about crime. There¡¯s no such thing as moral truth. People label crime based on what the government says, and never use their own brains. Nobody sees it this way.


    Ivo shrugs, fingering the bank notes in his pocket. ¡°Juno, I¡¯m blind. I can¡¯t even see what¡¯s on the table. You must have put it down somewhere and forgotten.¡± She does this a lot. Ever since her diagnosis, her memory isn¡¯t what it used to be. He¡¯s a selfish and uncaring boy, as he¡¯s been told many times. There¡¯s no point in being nice to others if nothing comes of it. Ivo¡¯s lived a life of self-sufficiency and secrets, and he¡¯s not about to change this anytime soon.


    Juno¡¯s frowning. You can tell a lot by the tone of a person¡¯s voice. ¡°Ivo, I¡¯m dying. Can¡¯t you be nice to me for one day?¡±


    It¡¯s snowing. It¡¯s September in Alaska. He scoffs at Juno: a girl who believes herself to be a martyr because of the hand she was dealt. ¡°Everybody dies.You¡¯re not special.¡± Juno scurries to the bathroom, likely to be sick again, and Ivo shouts through the door. ¡°Your cake is burning, by the way!¡±


    Ivo likes outdoor activities. During the summer, he often scuba dives or snorkels in the ocean, among the fish and plants. In the winter, he used to enjoy skiing, snowboarding, and snowmachining. In recent years, his vision has gotten too poor to continue. Ivo¡¯s father was a neglectful and absent man, who left him alone as a child for long periods of time. By five years old, he¡¯d swim in the ocean by himself. By eight, he cooked most of his own meals, and transported himself around Europe alone by bus. When his father died, he was twelve years old. It¡¯s hard to forget things like the sight of your parent killing themselves in front of you. As a teenager, Ivo might have believed his death was accidental. These days, he had reason to believe it wasn¡¯t.


    In Ivo¡¯s bedroom, there are very few belongings. There¡¯s a bed, a small chair, a side table, a record player, and not much else. The walls are plain and unpainted, and the carpet is always vacuumed. He moves around a lot, and prefers it this way. He was born in Arnhem, Netherlands, to a man who loved drugs more than he loved his family, and who died in front of him. He never knew his mother. She remains nameless, never spoken of. Relationships don¡¯t matter. In the end, everyone leaves, and everyone dies. After the death of his father, he traveled to Alaska: a sixteen hour flight, to live with some family he¡¯d never met before. Ivo hated them. Living with another person is exhausting and unfulfilling. Perhaps, living in general is this way. As a child, Ivo believed he had a purpose, that he meant something, in the grand scheme of things. He was born alone, and he¡¯ll die the same way.


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    Until his preteen years, Ivo was oblivious to the existence of any family outside of his grandfather, Sander, and his supposed father, Pim. According to Juno, her mother has two siblings: Pim and Verena. In the three years he lived with his aunt and uncle, Ivo had no interest in meeting extended family. When Ivo and Juno met, they were twelve years old. After Pim¡¯s death, he kept to himself for several days, going on with life as usual until a police officer showed up at his home. He hadn¡¯t needed this, and probably would have survived perfectly fine on his own from that point on. ¡°You¡¯re an old soul, aren¡¯t you?¡± the officer had said, chuckling under his breath. Ivo didn¡¯t trust him. He trusts nobody, least of all authority figures. Anika became his legal guardian thanks to a written document Pim had filled out before his death. Anika¡¯s a dumb cunt who raises shit kids - everyone knows this about her. Ivo¡¯s not shy about telling people how he feels about them, but people are easily offended, and can¡¯t take criticism. It¡¯s said you¡¯re supposed to love and respect your family, and for what? Just because they¡¯re family. Ivo¡¯s young, but he knows that¡¯s not how the world works.


    I took you in after your father died! Anika used to say, as though this made her a superhero. I gave you someplace to live so you wouldn¡¯t end up in foster care. But Ivo never asked her to do this: and so, it never really worked when she tried to guilt him into behaving. Ivo is not a boy who can be made to feel bad. He doesn¡¯t show emotions the way most everyone else does. Some people would say he doesn¡¯t show emotions at all. Adults seem to think they deserve the world for doing the bare minimum: clothing their children, feeding their families, being a parent. Ivo learned from a very young age that the ones we love always betray us. He never plans on having kids. There¡¯s no good reason to do so, and anyway, children are noisy and stupid. Most adults are stupid, too.


    Nighttime brings a sort of comfort. It¡¯s quiet, peaceful, and much easier to go unnoticed. As a teenager with bright white hair and skin, Ivo gets looks everywhere he goes. Pim was the same way. People stare at things that are different. As a teenager who dresses in almost exclusively suspenders and sweater vests, he gets made fun of a lot. It¡¯s dark when Ivo arrives at work. He¡¯s quite fond of winter, and loves the cold. When the sun disappears, he doesn¡¯t have to put as much effort into covering his skin. Most of the time, all a stranger can see of Ivo is his eyes. They¡¯re very pale blue: pink speckled sclerae, often looking crossed even underneath large lenses. Before Juno fell ill, she drove him to work. Most days, he can walk there in twenty minutes.


    Outside the warehouse, Ivo lights a cigarette. He gets many nasty comments, and presumably looks, from strangers, and always returns them. He tasted his first cigarette two years ago, when Ciel left a carton on the kitchen counter. He¡¯s not old enough to buy cigarettes - not legally, anyway. If you know how to work other people, you can get just about anything from them. Ivo is short and slim, a twink in all senses of the word. After work, it¡¯s not uncommon for him to meet up with a much older man in a hotel room or a vehicle. When he was fifteen, he was involved with a man twice his age, who taught Ivo many of the things he knows now about life and love. It¡¯s exciting to be taken advantage of by older men: to be mistreated and used, and abandoned with bruises and marks. This sounds appealing to almost no one. Ivo isn¡¯t quite sure what a functional relationship looks like.


    He doesn¡¯t own a cell phone. Juno and Ciel loathe this, as people do when they can¡¯t think for themselves. It¡¯s a wonder how some people get along in the world. You¡¯re such an old man, Juno likes to say, which might not actually be too far-fetched. Technology can¡¯t be trusted, and neither can the government. Ivo values his privacy and anonymity, and refuses to be tracked. He makes all his plans by word of mouth. He makes hardly any plans at all. When he was homeless, he let many other men use him as a sex slave in exchange for money and shelter. At sixteen, this needed to be done especially discreetly. Ivo has broken the laws in many different ways. It¡¯s only ever illegal if you get caught.


    Sex has nothing to do with love. Ivo isn¡¯t really even sure if love exists - he¡¯s never been loved in his life, and certainly doesn¡¯t deserve to be. He meets a man called James behind the supermarket after work, when the sun is just beginning to come up. He¡¯s a well-established man, who probably should be reprimanded for his actions, but Ivo never cared about morality. They don¡¯t speak much; Ivo isn¡¯t here to make conversation. He never keeps a job long. He¡¯s said to be disrespectful and unruly towards customers and coworkers alike, but companies like employees who are good at being slaves, and Ivo does what he likes.


    ¡°Why are you so rude?¡± he¡¯s been asked thousands of times. ¡°You never smile, you act as if nobody else¡¯s feelings matter, and you insult everyone who tries to be nice to you.¡± Nothing is as simple as it seems. Others think they know you after one brief interaction, assuming everything you do has to pass their own approval. Ivo doesn¡¯t speak about his past. He¡¯s been labeled many things: problem child, loner, sociopath, unlovable. The truth is that Ivo¡¯s had behavioral issues since childhood, and nobody ever cares until it personally affects them.


    He¡¯s good at giving head. Inside James¡¯ car, which is always tidy, he takes the man¡¯s cock down his throat over and over. They always come back for more, even if they know they shouldn¡¯t. James is married with children. His wife doesn¡¯t know what he does on his days off. Ivo has no gag reflex. He supposes this is what happens when you suck off enough men. They never say goodbye afterwards. When Ivo wipes his face, James pulls up his pants. After this, Ivo gets out of the car and walks off without saying a word.

 II. Living Like Liars

    Nothing ruins a family relationship faster than envy. Juno is the middle child, and mostly went unnoticed throughout childhood. Between bailing Ciel out of trouble and spoiling Aspen rotten, Juno''s parents never really had much time for her. When she fell ill a year ago, nobody else mattered, and Aspen took this badly. Family can be bitter and competitive, and nobody cares about you until you''re dead. When Juno first began feeling sick, she was seventeen years old and preparing for her high school graduation. It''s uncommon for a healthy teenager to become hostile overnight, or to collapse in the middle of class. Juno lost her hair very quickly after beginning treatment. When she moved out of her parents'' home, it wasn''t without a lot of prior planning.


    Ciel is rarely home. When he isn''t working, he''s out with friends or at the cemetery. Juno doesn''t particularly like living with her brother. She knows her parents would never have allowed her to live on her own. Home doesn''t feel like home, but it never really did.


    University is nothing like high school. Juno attends with Ivo, though he doesn''t speak to her in public. She used to take this personally. At school, she''s free to do what she wants, and struggles with schoolwork due to memory issues. Recently, Juno''s mother bought her a new wig: blonde, making her look like her sister. Juno doesn''t like wigs. They''re itchy, and hot, and she came to terms with her baldness a long time ago. Anika is a woman whose personality changes depending on who she''s interacting with. She''s doting and protective toward Aspen, and exasperated and impatient toward Ciel. It''s always easy to tell who a parent''s favorite child is - and although Anika would swear she loves all of her children equally, even a child could see this isn''t true. She''s the middle of three, and married a man old enough to be her father. Anika says she''s blessed to have married a man who never struggled to support her financially. Anika is forty seven years old and has never worked a day in her life.


    Juno''s nauseous. In the hallway outside her first class, she has a seizure. This happens a lot, and it never gets any less uncomfortable. She''s dying. People are uncomfortable about this, and don''t speak about it. Ciel. who has many issues of his own, tries too hard to pretend Juno is normal. Aspen, who hasn''t spoken to Juno since before her diagnosis, seems to blame Juno for the shift in their parents'' attention. There''s no use hiding it. Anika never gave two shits about her middle child.


    A week into her first year of university, Juno is already known as the dying girl. It''s not the most preferable of nicknames, but she''s heard worse. An older student approaches from the foyer, having separated himself from a group of very doting girls.


    "Hey, are you okay?"


    It never matters. When Juno isn''t seizing or showing symptoms, she''s invisible to everyone. The student has dark skin and long hair, and plays left wing on the university hockey team. Everybody knows Rio. Even if you''re not a sports fan, he''s loud and well-liked, and fits in with almost every type of person. He doesn''t know her name, but her face feels hot when he speaks to her, and this is rather embarrassing. "I''m fine." Juno isn''t stoic. Even if she keeps her feelings inside, her face always gives it away. When she fell to the floor, her backpack fell onto a tile beside her, and now lies open, with its contents spilling out. Falling has become a regular occurrence. It''s uncommon for anyone to go out of their way to help. Juno''s such a cliche: a timid, well-meaning girl always crushing on the popular boys. She''s a tragedy, really.


    The boy holds out his hand, helping Juno up. He has a firm and strong grip, unlike her. She''s embarrassed: both to have been noticed, and also to have fallen in the first place. He grabs her backpack without a word, and hands it to her before glancing back at the group of girls who seem to flock to him. "See you around." He has a lot of face piercings, which fascinates Juno. It''s kind of pathetic. She always melts in the presence of an attractive, older boy. He winks, turns and jogs off before Juno has a chance to thank him. Boys don''t notice her. They never have. She''s gullible and timid; Ivo makes fun of her for this. One day, he used to say, you''re going to trust the wrong person and end up dead. It''s funny now. She''s going to end up dead anyway.


    "Your parents only care about you now because you''re dying. Everybody will forget about you once you''re gone."


    When they were kids, Aspen and Juno fought a lot. At fifteen, Aspen is far more naive than she realizes, and argues this if it''s pointed out to her. It seems to be an innate job of a sibling to pick at your flaws, and Aspen has perfected this. The last time the sisters spoke, they argued about Aspen''s boyfriend, who really isn''t much of a boyfriend at all. You can tell Aspen anything you''d like. She never believes it unless it''s something she wants to hear.


    After school, Ciel sometimes picks Juno up. She has a car, but it''s hard to drive with a near-constant headache. Eight months ago, Anika, tired of Ciel''s mourning, persuaded him to let Juno move into the home he used to share with his ex-wife. Juno prefers not to live alone, anyway. Ciel is good company sometimes. He has bright pink hair, nodding at Juno when she gets in the car. In the back seat, there''s a booster seat that hasn''t been used in months, and that Ciel refuses to get rid of. "Sup, Juno? I''m Marcus Toews today."


    He has a strange way of coping with pain. His car smells like cigarettes. Juno''s head pounds; she frowns. "Where are you getting all these identities? Do you steal them? Am I surrounded by criminals?" Usually, Juno plays along. Lately, she''s not in the mood to deal with dishonesty. Life is too short, some would say, live a little. That''s the problem, though. Juno wants to live, and life makes it very hard. It''s chilly outside. Juno''s always chilly now, even in the summer. She holds her backpack on her lap, watching out the window as Ciel pulls out of the paid parking lot.


    No one really knows what causes glioblastoma. Juno was diagnosed after many tests and many days of acting quite unlike herself. Ten months ago, she received brain surgery, and then underwent her first rounds of chemotherapy. It''s hard to explain, as a cancer patient, what being sick feels like to those who are healthy. People take their health for granted. Juno used to, as well. Some days, she can get along and get things done as though she isn''t ill. Other days, it''s hard to get out of bed without collapsing.


    Ciel smokes while he drives. The smell bothers Juno, but she never says anything. "Where do you think I get them? I invent them." He says it as though it should be commonplace for a man in his twenties to live under fake identities. Juno never understands what her siblings are thinking.


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    "Why?"


    "Because," Ciel shrugs, his bright hair flapping in the wind. "It''s better than being me."


    It''s like Juno''s mother says. We all deal with pain in different ways. Juno cries in her room and becomes overly attached to her loved ones. Aspen becomes silent, isolating herself. Ciel, evidently, pretends to be somebody else. Maybe people find it comforting sometimes to escape reality when they''re mourning. "Who''s Marcus Toews?" Ciel should be a writer. He comes up with names and backstories for every new identity he invents. Sometimes, after meeting somebody new, he uses their life stories as inspiration for his own. Juno is tired, and rests her head on the window.


    She wonders where Ciel has been. He works as a tattoo artist, but nearly got fired after the accident. It''s a shame, really, that things happen the way they do. It''s not as if he''ll admit it, but Juno knows he still blames himself. Things go wrong. "He''s a lawyer." Ciel taps his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel while waiting in traffic. "With a wife and children. He has the perfect life."


    "Nobody has the perfect life." Juno sighs, shutting her eyes. Before she got sick, she used to enjoy street racing and cliff diving - but activity is too much energy nowadays. It almost doesn''t feel worth it to live if life can''t be lived to the fullest. It''s hard to decide, sometimes, if it would be better to live with a low quality of life, or to not live at all. "Were you at the cemetery today?"


    When Ciel finishes a cigarette, he throws it on the ground. Juno hates this. She isn''t the confrontational type. "I was going to go after I take you home." He needs to spend less time there. Juno has learned that dwelling on the past doesn''t help with healing. Juno sometimes does it, too. Childhood seemed so hard at the time, but when you grow up, you realize it was the easiest and shortest part of your entire life. Ciel would tell her not to be dramatic; she hasn''t lived like he has. Maybe that''s true. He''s seen more loss in the past six months than Juno has in her entire life. Still, it''s just like Ivo says. Everybody dies, and nobody remembers you once you''re gone.


    "You don''t really believe that, do you?" she''d asked her cousin once, on a particularly bleak day. "That life means nothing, and we''ll be forgotten someday?"


    Juno was raised in a religious household, and went to mass regularly before moving out. She was raised to believe in a Heaven and a Hell, and an afterlife that depended on your actions during your time on Earth. Still, as Juno gets older and experiences different things, she becomes more and more conflicted on what she believes in. She thinks about death a lot. It''s frightening to think of yourself ceasing to exist, even if you''ve already lived a full life. For nearly four months after the accident, Ciel refused to get behind the wheel of a car. His home is still filled with toys and clothing, and Juno suspects it makes things worse. "Can I come?"


    He''s not a bad driver. Sometimes, unfavorable things just happen. "You want to come to the cemetery with me?" Juno remembers when it happened. It was half a year ago, when she was undergoing her second round of chemotherapy. Ciel had shown up at her parents'' house, covered in snow and blood, his speech fast and almost incomprehensible. It was very late at night, and Juno was meant to be going to bed. They''re gone, Ciel said, deflating down onto the floor, dripping water into the carpet. It''s all my fault.


    Juno shrugs, swallowing a wave of nausea. She''s been to a cemetery before, to meditate. There''s something grounding about being surrounded by death and quiet. "I figured you might want some company." Juno doesn''t talk to fill the silence. She''s better company than most. Ciel says nothing, but drives past their home without stopping, and heads toward the back road which leads to the cemetery.


    If it weren''t for Maria''s pregnancy, Ciel likely would have never gotten married at all. He''s offended by bastard children, which is funny, because Anika was unmarried when Ciel was born. He never acknowledges this, even though it''s not a secret. He has a controversial past, but never speaks of it. After the accident, he lost large sums of money to gambling and cigarettes, forcing him to take out loans in order to manage his mortgage. At the very back corner of Ciel''s house, Calypso''s bedroom remains untouched and uncleaned, even though he''s in there almost every day. Sometimes, Juno thinks he should go through Calypso''s things: purge as a way of healing. This has been suggested before, and Ciel always reacts badly.


    One day, a few months after moving in with Juno, Ivo came home with a handbag filled with money. They were bills: folded, fastened with a rubber band, varying in values. If Juno had to guess, she would have said eleven, maybe twelve hundred dollars. Ivo threw the bag down onto the table, straight-faced, unamused as always, and said nothing about the cash he''d gotten from wherever he''d gotten it. He said nothing, in fact, just sipped from an iced coffee while rummaging through his backpack.


    "Uh." Juno knew about his kleptomaniac tendencies, but it was so much different actually living with him. "Where did you get all this money?" She sifted through it, feeling uncomfortable, but Ivo didn''t seem bothered, and drank his iced drink without a single care. Juno spoke up. "Where did you get this money, Ivo?"


    "Ugh." He''d rolled his eyes, setting the drink noisily down onto the table. "Who are you, my mother? Shut the fuck up." With this, he''d scooped up the bag, thrown his key down on a place-mat, and strode with his shoulders hunched down the hallway and out to the shed.


    Juno has a text from her mother. Nobody else ever texts her. After Juno moved into Ciel''s home, she spent months looking for Ivo. She still doesn''t quite know why - it''s not as if they were ever particularly close or anything. There''s a part of Juno that aims to please even the most ungrateful strangers, and this part of her can''t be changed. You''re a rare type of person, Ciel tells her sometimes, you actually care about the well-being of other people. It seems like a waste of time now, putting so much effort into finding a boy who tried to stay hidden. Ivo has bad manners. Ivo openly despises things that don''t benefit him.


    On the way to the cemetery, Ciel stops at a flower shop. It''s kind of morbid. People receive more flowers in death than they ever do during their lives. At the cemetery, there''s already a plot for Juno. It''s strange and kind of scary to think about. Maria and Calypso have a double depth plot, which Juno''s mother paid for before the funeral. Each time Ciel visits, he cleans off their headstones and leaves a space for fresh flowers, as the previous ones have usually died. Juno isn''t sure how much time is healthy to spend dwelling on loss. Sometimes she wonders if she should just fake her death and move on somewhere new.


    Ciel sits on the ground, cross-legged, placing the flowers neatly beside the stone. Colder weather will arrive soon. Juno enjoys a warm day. Ivo won''t leave the house if it''s more than fifty degrees.


    "She wouldn''t have blamed you, you know." Juno kneels in the dirt, her hands at her sides. "Maria. She''d want you to forgive yourself."


    She doesn''t get a response. She hadn''t expected to.

 III. dode rozen

    "Come on! You call that a deke? Have you ever even played hockey before?"


    There''s a new kid on the hockey team. Rio doesn''t want to be an ass, but the guy has no idea what he''s doing, and they''re in the middle of the first game of the season. No one ever practices over summer, even though they all claim they do, and they''re all a mess by the time games start up again.


    Rio doesn''t know the new kid''s name. He''s terrible with names. Maybe he just doesn''t care to learn it. Either way, he grumbles a response, but he won''t look up. Rio has always been annoyed by people who won''t look at him when they talk. "Watch!" He never played hockey as a kid, but athletic abilities make most sports easy, and ice hockey is popular in Alaska. "Try doing the toe drag, like this." Rio demonstrates, flicking the puck on his stick easily and swiftly.


    The player just stands and stares. "Yeah, Rio, we get it. You''re a pro. We''re not all professional athletes. I''m doing my best, alright?"


    Maybe Rio is being a dick. He does tend to get heated when it comes to sports. He''s competitive, and maybe sometimes he takes it a bit too far. "Sorry. Continue."


    In Norse mythology, Loki is the son of a goddess and a n: a member of a giant race, possessing supernatural powers. He''s a shapeshifter, whose relationship with other gods hovers between helpful and mischievous. He''s cunning, neither good nor evil, and rather hard to work with sometimes. Rio has been working with Him for four years - many don''t believe it''s possible to have a relationship with a mythological deity, or even that deities exist at all. Life is unpredictable, and you''ll never get through it if you take it too seriously. This is something Rio learned quite a while ago. He''s twenty years old, beginning his second year in university, where he studies nursing. It doesn''t really matter what Rio studies, anyway; he''ll end up a famous athlete, like everyone expects him to. His father was a college athlete, too.


    Rio always keeps a crystal in his pocket. They''re good luck, and bring him peace during sports games and times of stress. Today, he carries an emerald, and touches it once in a while. Rio''s parents'' house is filled with crystals, candles, athames, statues. His dorm room is filled with so much more. Getting rid of things is difficult. It''s easier to pour yourself into material goods than to think about past failures. He refuses to be alone, and spends most of his free time at parties or making friends. He lives quite far from his parents, who moved him to Alaska when he was eleven. It''s too cold here. He doesn''t live near the ocean anymore.


    Mabon is coming. It''s the time of the autumn equinox, when Pagans honor the changing seasons and the harvest. Rio prefers spending holidays with his family, but this proves challenging with the distance between them and other responsibilities. He can fly home in an hour, and drive home in ten. Sometimes, when he has a lot of time and motivation, he drives across the state to his parents'' house. Their family is quite multicultural. Since childhood, Rio''s grandfather has lived with his parents.


    Enki sits in the stands with her friends, brown and curvy, but not very kinky. Though he''s polyamorous, Rio has one current partner, and one metamour. He''s been monogamous in the past. Maybe he will be again, someday. When he scores a goal, cheers erupt from the stands, and his teammates flock to celebrate with him.


    Apple magic is perfect for Mabon due to its association with the harvest. In Norse mythology, apples are connected to a spring goddess named Idunn, who fed apples to young deities to help them remain immortal. For the ancient Greeks, apples were to blame for most of the Trojan War. Eris, displeased by not receiving an invitation to a banquet, crashed the event and brought with her a golden apple. It was decreed that the apple would go to which of three goddesses was judged prettiest by Paris, prince of Troy. Hera, angry by Paris'' choice of Aphrodite over her, became bitter and vowed to have Troy destroyed in war. Rio performed his first spell at the age of five with his father, Amani, who comes from a very religious and conservative country. He was never forced to follow in his parents'' religion, even though he was always influenced by it.


    Rio misses Florida. He was born in Miami, and spent almost all of his childhood at the beach. It was his fault they left, but nobody ever talks about this. Rio''s parents are private, stoic men, who deal with pain calmly, never losing their tempers or putting the blame onto others. Rio always wanted to be like them.


    There''s a boy standing across from him outside the gymnasium. He''s albino, dressed in a thick feather parka, a magnifying glass hanging from a string around his neck ¨C that''s the only reason Rio notices him. Well: that, and the fact that he''s standing right in front of the classroom he needs to go inside. With Enki on his arm, he approaches. "Hey! Hate to be a dick, but you''re standing in the way of my class." The hallway isn''t busy at this time of day, and Rio doesn''t want to go to class.


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    The boy slurps an iced coffee. "That sucks for you." He doesn''t move, but drinks from his cup loudly, ignoring Rio. He has very thick glasses, and pure white hair. He''s a first-year student, who seems to have no friends, and who treats everyone around him badly for seemingly no reason. There''s always a reason.


    Rio shoves his way past, dragging Enki by the arm. He''s not very studious. He''d rather hang out with friends than sit in a classroom, but he got a full athletic scholarship to college, so he kind of thought he should make the most of it.


    No one has ever seen a black person with green eyes. For a long time, Rio was conflicted to calling himself Black - and colorism within the community certainly doesn''t help. He''s asked regularly if he wears contact lenses, or if he''s gotten eye surgery. Genetics work in strange ways. Sage has green eyes, too. If you asked, Rio would say he''s Indian, too. His parents are from Cameroon and Kerala. He''s lost track of the number of times he''s been asked where he''s from, especially living in Alaska, where he looks like nobody else. Growing up, he didn''t really fit into either category: too light to be black, but too dark to be anything else.


    Something all white people seem to have in common is their insistence on knowing the entire background of every minority they come across. As a man of color with two fathers, Rio''s been the center of attention for most of his life - and he''s come to prefer this. His parents married in 2005, after already having two children and sharing a home together. Massachusetts was the first state to legalize same-sex marriage, and this was within Rio''s lifetime.


    The campus party is at the most popular sorority. They have so many parties, it has Rio wondering how any of those girls have any time at all for studying. His friend Devon is in charge of bringing the booze, a task he doesn''t take lightly. Rio doesn''t even know where he gets it all, because they''re underaged, but he has his ways. "Hey, Rio, my dude!" Devon''s loud. He''s probably the loudest of them all. "Check out all the goods I got for the party!" He proceeds to hold out multiple bottles of multiple kinds of whisky and beer. "What do you think? I did good, eh? This party''s going to be awesome. What are you drinking?"


    Rio enjoys cooking, and he was always good at it. In university, he has little time to prepare homemade meals. When he visits home, there''s always enough food to feed the whole city, and it leaves the cabin smelling delicious.


    "It''s called jal-jeera. My dad taught me how to make it. Want a taste?"


    Some people are strange about sharing drinks. Sage was always this way. Surya would make himself a drink and offer the children a taste, and Sage always insisted on their own glass with a straw.


    "What''s it made out of? It looks weird."


    Rio is adventurous, in every aspect of the word. He likes trying new things, meeting new people, exploring new places. If you''re not exposed to something regularly, it might not make sense to you. "I don''t know. Bunch of different spices. It''s probably too spicy for you, anyway."


    "Why do you say that?"


    "Because you''re a pussy."


    Devon frowns. "What are those little balls floating in it?"


    Some people take themselves way too seriously. Devon is one of these people. Rio sips loudly, grinning at a group of girls passing him. "Boondi. Chickpea flour balls. Try some." It''s noisy. Busy environments make Rio feel energized, and distract him from the past.


    Sage hates when Rio messes around with them. He used to say they were too sensitive and should loosen up a little. His parents would remind him that not everyone enjoys practical jokes. It''s always in good fun. Some people wouldn''t know fun if it slapped them across the face.


    "I don''t want to."


    "Pussy."


    Rio''s friends appreciate a good joke. Devon elbows him, making a face. "At least I''m not a fuckboy."


    In a way, the term describes Rio. He wouldn''t call himself a fuckboy, but he''s not a nice guy. He''s dating Enki, but it won''t last long. His longest relationship was three months, and even that seemed long. Anyway, all Rio''s friends know he was never meant to be monogamous. Rio usually dates the boisterous, talkative people ¨C but he''s getting tired of that, and he doesn''t quite know where to go from here. "Anyway, are we ready to go?"


    University parties always get out of control. As a student athlete, he''s supposed to be responsible. Rio is drawn to the dangerous and the unpredictable, which in a way, he supposes, makes him dangerous and unpredictable. Maybe that''s why everybody is so taken by him. It''s easy to get attention when you''re attractive and popular. Rio is both of these things. Enki follows him around. A few hours into the party, she disappears to find her girlfriend, leaving Rio in the middle of a game of strip tease. He''ll be twenty one years old next year. He''s old enough to vote, to drive, to fuck, to own a gun - but not to have a beer. Rio always gets drunk at parties. As a teenager, he was often allowed to have a drink at home.


    His younger sibling, Sage, is sixteen years old and agender. They live with their parents, in a log cabin in a small, impersonal city. Rio lived there for five years before moving to Fairbanks for university. He thinks a lot about Florida, and what came afterwards. Personal growth takes time, and some people never quite accomplish it.

 IV. The Taste Of Your Own Tongue

    Some people should not be parents. Some people should have their children taken from them, because everybody knows they can''t possibly be trusted to take care of a child on their own. Ciel is one of these people. He was a decent husband, but a careless father who really didn''t know what he was doing most of the time. He loved Maria. He hasn''t cleared out Calypso''s room. Perhaps it feels like cleaning it out will feel like clearing her away, like she won''t exist any longer if there''s no sign of the things she used to love. Juno tells him constantly to go to therapy. This won''t help. Talking about what happened will bring up all the memories Ciel has been trying to suppress.


    It was two days before Maria''s birthday. They were on the way home from their daughter''s school spring concert when his car hydroplaned, despite the fact that he hadn''t been speeding. It all happened in the blink of an eye. He''d tried to regain control of the vehicle; frustrated that Calypso wouldn''t stop making noise. When the car began to roll, she screamed, and Maria turned to comfort her. It doesn''t matter now. They were both dead before the car hit the ground.


    "Daddy?" Calypso said, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, already in her pajamas. "Will you play with me?"


    He hasn''t been to work in months. He used to spend all his time there.


    "I can''t right now." He''d grown bored of playing the same board game every day, and sitting on park benches while his daughter played. Strangers used to stop Ciel in public, just to tell him his daughter looked just like him. He regrets a lot now. Everybody talks about how kids grow up too fast. No one ever mentions that one day, you''ll wake up and they''ll be gone forever.


    There''s a small bedroom at the end of the hallway. It hasn''t been cleaned in the nine months since the accident, and a layer of dust has settled over everything. Calypso loved to draw, and she was a lot better at it than Ciel ever was. He looks through the notebook on her bed, which is filled with artwork from kindergarten. She''d loved kindergarten. Three days after the accident, when the school hadn''t heard from her or Maria, they became concerned. Speaking about the deaths of your loved ones feels like watching them die all over again. Nobody ever outwardly blamed him. It doesn''t matter. He blames himself enough for everyone else, anyway.


    He''s got a date today. This is strange and nerve-racking, because it''s been a while. Juno would lecture him about being true to himself, as if she has any idea what this means. Like most single people his age, Ciel has tried online dating. This was more for comfort than partnership. It''s just hard to be alone. Some people claim to like it.


    He hates driving in the snow. It isn''t snowing hard. The cafe he''s meeting at for a date isn''t too far from his house, though it feels like it is. Sometimes, it''s hard to keep identities straight. There''s a list in his glove-box of every name he''s used, and who knows him as such. It would be too much work for most. Some days, lying to people does seem like more effort than it''s worth. Ciel''s lost track of how many times his little sisters have lectured him - but they aren''t perfect either, and he''s always quick to point this out.


    The mobile home Ciel bought with Maria costs one hundred thousand dollars. It contains three bedrooms, and Ivo''s is in the shed. He insisted it this way, and Ciel was in no position to argue much. He hasn''t owned it long. It''s a shame, really. For a place that was meant to be a family home, it''s beginning to feel more like a prison.


    "I want to look for him."


    It took Juno nearly five months to find Ivo. She''s too passive for her own good, and invests too much time into people who would never dare return the favor. She moved in with Ciel eight months ago, after his mother insisted he stop moping around. It wasn''t moping. Juno, whose diagnosis came just two months before the accident, claimed to have explored the city every day, looking for Ivo during the time he lived on the streets. Ciel doesn''t know why she''d do this. All Ivo ever did was make fun and disrespect her.


    Juno moved into the mobile home one month after her brain surgery. She doesn''t work, and misses a lot of school. He was never the type of brother to give a shit about what his sisters did, but Juno doesn''t know a lot about life, and this gets her into trouble.


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    There aren''t many people at the cafe. It''s a small area that Ciel frequents often. He used to bring Calypso for lunch every once in a while; that''s why he chose it. He''s meeting a woman named Nicole, who sits already at a table in the corner of the cafe. He''s not really interested in dating, but everyone insists he should get out and meet new people. He met Maria through mutual friends, who''d seemed adamant that they''d get along. He supposes they were right. Maria had no business marrying him.


    "Hi, Nicole?"


    She''s blonde, like Maria was. When Ciel was a kid, he was blond too. He sits across from her at the table, shoving his hands into his pockets. "How are you?" Sometimes it''s hard to seem interested in the lives of other people. At least he tries to put effort into this. Nicole knows him as Adam. They''ve spoken for a week or so, which gave Ciel enough time to come up with a convincing life story. He didn''t always pretend to be someone else. Ever since the accident, life doesn''t seem to have meaning anymore.


    When Ciel mentioned his date to his best friend, Scott, he was told he just needs to get laid. Maybe this is true. Maybe it''s important to let other people into your life, but it''s not something that seems like a priority. Ciel has friends. He''s been neglecting them for months, and most of them have given up on him.


    Nicole smiles. She''s not hot, but she''s not ugly either. It''s frustrating, comparing everyone you meet to a woman who''s dead. "Hi, Adam." It should make Ciel feel guilty, lying about his identity. It doesn''t. Names mean nothing, after all. His mother could have named him anything, and he could have done the same. "I love your hair. How do you keep it so bright?"


    He didn''t always have colored hair. One night, on impulse, he got drunk and dyed it pink, and he''s just sort of kept it since. He can hear Maria''s voice in his head telling him it doesn''t suit him at all. "I touch it up a lot." In a previous conversation with Nicole, she mentioned she works as a florist. For some reason, this wasn''t surprising at all. "What''s your favorite flower?" Maria liked tulips and peonies. Her grave is filled with them.


    Calypso went to the zoo for her fifth birthday. She loved polar bears and elephants, and cried when wild animals were mean to each other. She wanted a pot bellied pig, and probably would have gotten one if they''d had the space.


    Nicole is talking about orchids. Ciel missed the beginning of her story, but he''s gotten alright at pretending to pay attention. He''s not a bad listener. At least, he didn''t used to be. Maria used to say he heard the parts of conversations that meant something to him. He still isn''t completely sure what this means. For a date that means almost nothing, it doesn''t go terribly. Conversation is friendly, and Nicole is open about her life. No one wants to know about Ciel''s life. Adam, his identity of the day, is twenty seven years old and works at a casino. Ciel''s spent enough time at casinos to know how they work.


    "Would you like to come over?"


    When Ciel proposed to Maria, it wasn''t a surprise. He''s not a romantic, and he certainly doesn''t go all out for special occasions. When they married, she was three months pregnant, a fact that was still a secret to her family. Ciel''s in-laws never liked him. He knew this, even if they never said it to his face. This was probably for the best, anyway. They weren''t wrong to blame him for what happened.


    Nicole looks hopeful. It''s pointless to dwell on the past; everybody knows this. The dead don''t come back. Juno said once that they''re always around, even though they can''t be seen by the living. This is stupid. No one in their right mind would want to hang around after death.


    "I''d love to."


    After the accident, Ciel wore his wedding ring much longer than he should have. It was only a few weeks ago that he finally removed it, and this wasn''t without much nagging from Juno. She''s young, and has never had to deal with many adult responsibilities. She''s never had a job, or supported herself financially. He shouldn''t be here, for more reasons than he can say. Nicole''s house is larger than he''d expected. The walls contain a lot of artwork and photos of her with friends. Recently, Ciel took down the photos from his walls. His tongue feels heavy, and tastes like salt. When Nicole asked to kiss him, he didn''t say no.


    "She looks like you," Maria said, when Calypso giggled and played with her stuffed animals. "She has your smile and your eyes." It was Maria''s idea to name her this. Calypso was a nymph in Greek mythology, and Maria loved the story.


    "I''m sorry." Ciel pulls away, standing abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I can''t do this. I can''t be here." He''s not good at explaining himself. Women always want too many details. Nicole looks hurt, but doesn''t get up from the couch. "I''ll text you later," says Ciel, even though he won''t. It''s snowing. Shuffling to the door, where his shoes sit by the carpet, he pulls on his winter gear and walks out without another word.

 V. Perhaps You Are Safer Within Your Enclosure.

    As a kid, Sage believed in magic. Their brother always says magic exists all around you, if you only look for it. Maybe this is true. From a young age, Sage was exposed to magic: learning protection spells, helping perform rituals to aid in health and fortune, learning how to cleanse the environment around them. Sage supposes it¡¯s possible to believe in anything, if you set your mind to it. Maybe, if they try hard enough, Sage can manifest their little sister.


    It¡¯s Samhain, and Sage feels peaceful surrounded by darkness. Samhain, the festival of darkness, begins at midnight on the thirty first of October, and lets the living communicate with the dead. Sage was never afraid of ghosts. They were taught from a young age to communicate with them: through ouija boards, stones, and other symbols. If you asked Sage''s parents, they¡¯d say that everything had a meaning, no matter how small.


    Sage has been a gymnast since childhood. The first move they ever learned was a forward roll, which is arguably the most simple. As a child, Sage did gymnastics with their brother - but he was always more athletic, and gravitates more toward contact sports. As far as academics go, Sage isn¡¯t the best student. They attend a high school twenty five minutes from their house.  Sage is sixteen years old, and learning to drive. It helps, having patient parents. Otherwise, Sage would probably never learn.


    Amani is a sentimental and inspiring man, having overcome obstacles Sage would never be brave enough to face. He meets Sage at the front doors of the high school, as he does every day without a complaint. Sage will never be like him, and this is regrettable. ¡°Hi, Papa.¡± Sage has spoken with a stutter since elementary school, and gets bullied for this. Having a psychiatrist as a father should make life easier to manage, but it doesn¡¯t. ¡°Are we going driving today?¡±


    It¡¯s hard to make friends. It seems so effortless for everyone else.


    In 1996, long before it was legal to be gay in Florida, Amani met a man named Surya. Sage''s parents speak of their pasts openly, though not often. Sage was born discreetly on February 29, 2004. Rio likes to joke that this makes them only five years old. Amani is Cameroonian. Sage inherited his curly hair, and not much else. ¡°You¡¯re driving home,¡± he says, and tosses the keys at Sage. ¡°Just drive carefully, because it¡¯s a little icy.¡±


    Sage has a learner¡¯s permit. The thought of driving alone is intimidating, but Sage has good focus, and tries their best to be safe at all times. They miss their  brother. They text almost every day, but don¡¯t see each other often because of distance. Rio moved to Fairbanks two years ago, and Sage understands why. He tormented Sage for most of their childhood, but this doesn¡¯t make a difference now. Rio knows Sage has always felt inferior to him. Even though their parents try hard to treat their children equally, Sage isn¡¯t talented or popular. They drive cautiously on the highway, and feel overwhelmed when a vehicle follows too closely.


    In some types of Modern Paganism, the Triple Goddess is viewed as three separate figures: the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. Each figure represents a different phase in the feminine life cycle, and a different cycle of the moon. She is contrasted with the Horned God, who represents the masculine. Gender is a tricky area for Sage. As a kid, they never lived within gender roles, despite being assigned them by medical professionals at a young age. ¡°Nobody gets to decide who you are,¡± their parents would say, ¡°except for you.¡± Rio always knew he was a boy. Sage spent years feeling confused and undecided.


    At sixteen, Sage is a First Degree initiate. They participate in rituals and holidays with a small coven, formed by their father, who was ordained as a High Priest by someone higher up than him. Sage spends a lot of time practicing spells, meditating, and leaving offerings to deities. This is just as well. They don¡¯t have many friends, or many hobbies. Ten years ago, Sage received their first mandolin, and began learning how to play using Internet tutorials and trial and error. Sage was always more interested in music than athletics. They don¡¯t stutter when they sing, and this is comforting.


    Most coveners have to be eighteen to be eligible to join, but an exception can be made for the children of coven members. Sage''s father is High Priest; this is the only reason the teenager was allowed to become a covener. Outside of the family, there are nine others, and these constitute Sage''s only friends. Rio keeps saying he¡¯ll leave the coven and start his own after receiving his Third Degree Initiation, since he¡¯ll have become a High Priest by then. Sage doesn¡¯t want him to leave; he knows this. But everyone also knows it¡¯d be his own decision. Rio doesn¡¯t care much for school, but he cares a lot for Wicca. He studies a lot, and he teaches a lot, and this makes Sage envious.


    Sage lives in a four bedroom log cabin, with their parents and grandpa. Although the older generations are multilingual, Rio and Sage only speak English. After parking slowly in the driveway, Sage looks at their father. ¡°How did I do?¡±


    Conversation isn¡¯t something Sage enjoys. As a teenager with a speech impediment, school can be brutal. They started attending speech therapy as a kid, and nothing has helped. Sometimes, Sage takes a very long time to get their point across. Sometimes they repeat sounds multiple times, trying to get them out. A lot of people become frustrated by this: tell Sage to spit it out, or to learn how to speak. Their parents are always patient, and give them time to finish what they need to say.


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    Amani smiles. ¡°I¡¯d say you¡¯re just about ready to take your test officially.¡± He¡¯s not an emotionally affectionate man. He communicates strongly and openly, but doesn¡¯t express strong emotion around his children. When Sage has an unrestricted license, they¡¯ll be able to visit their brother whenever, even though it¡¯s a very long drive.


    The first song Sage ever wrote was called Skygirl. They use social media to share music, but being vulnerable is scary, and Sage isn¡¯t good at it. In their bedroom, there¡¯s a synthesizer and a mandolin, and fairy lights dangle from the ceiling. Sage is agender: not a boy, not a girl, just Sage. This seems especially hard for older generations to understand. When Sage''s parents introduce them to new people, they use the term my youngest instead of my son or daughter. Sage appreciates this. Unlike most families, theirs was never very cisnormative. When Rio moved out, his bedroom was given to their Malayali grandfather, who is very old and traditional, and speaks very little English.


    ¡°Hi, Muttacchan,¡± says Sage, waving awkwardly at their grandfather as they pass one another. Amani, a psychiatrist, works out of his home, and goes out of his way to make everyone feel welcome. Surya, Sage''s second father, is a gynecologist, and often works late. Sage knows the struggles their parents have faced to get where they are today. When they¡¯re teased for having two fathers, it¡¯s important to remember this.


    Sage''s favorite holiday is Imbolc. It¡¯s a Gaelic spring festival and the feast day of the goddess, Brigid. Imbolc marks the beginning of spring, which Sage enjoys because of the rebirth of flowers and return of animals. In Irish tradition, Brigid would visit homes on the eve of her feast and bless its inhabitants, possessing the power to bring people from the dark side of winter to the light eve of spring. At night, clothing or cloth would be left outside homes for Brigid to bless during her travels, and a bed would be left for her to symbolically sleep in. Sage doesn¡¯t believe in saints or angels. Their grandmother once said there were guardian angels watching over them, but this just seems made up. Cassia watches over Sage, but she isn¡¯t an angel. She¡¯s just a girl with wings.


    On the wall of the log cabin hangs a family photo from years ago: before Rio moved away, when Cassia smiled toothily in every family photo. Rio would tell you it was his fault. Back in Florida, Sage picked fights about this. It doesn¡¯t matter now, though. Once a spirit dies, it leaves the body it inhabited and finds its way to the afterlife, where it waits to be given a new body. Sometimes, Sage tries to see memories from past lives, by meditating or attempting to lucid dream. Rio knows how to do astral projection. It¡¯s all just about meditation, he says. If you focus enough, you can travel to a different realm just by meditating.


    Sage likes living in Alaska. When the family first moved, Sage thought they¡¯d  hate it: leaving friends behind, moving away from the ocean and the sunshine. In Florida, they visited the beach almost every day when they weren''t in school. Miami Beach always made Sage feel so peaceful.  Once, when Sage was a child, they were attacked by a crocodile off of the Florida Keys - and if it weren¡¯t for Rio, they¡¯d probably be dead.  Siblings are weird. Rio would jump on the back of an angry crocodile for Sage, but he¡¯d never share a sweater with them. In the summer, Sage sometimes camps at a nearby campground, where their fathers take the children to fish and swim. Sage learned to swim as a very young child, but was afraid of water for most of their childhood. In the summers in Alaska, it¡¯s nice to walk down to the recreation area and sit by the river, soaking in the fresh air. It¡¯s snowing. Sage doesn¡¯t mind snowboarding or skiing.


    ¡°I¡¯m going out.¡±


    Sage''s words catch on going, making them repeat the sound multiple times before finishing the word. This is frustrating. Their parents always said that other people¡¯s rudeness wasn¡¯t Sage''s problem - but it¡¯s hard not to take things personally. One would think Sage would be used to it by now, having stuttered their whole life. Nobody ever asks where Sage is going. Ever since they were old enough to go out alone, they were trusted to make smart choices and be back before curfew. Sage remembers friends whose obedience to their parents stems from fear and intimidation rather than respect. Sage''s parents aren¡¯t strict, but they have rules, and they don¡¯t overindulge their children.


    In Norse mythology, Ask and Embla are regarded as the first two humans on Earth. They are said to have been created by three gods from driftwood washed afloat on the beach: shaped oddly like a man and a woman, and transformed into humans by the gods. Ask and Embla were given the realm of Midgard, where they became the father and mother of all of the human race.


    It¡¯s a forty minute bike ride to Finger Lake Recreation Site. When it isn¡¯t snowing, Sage sometimes travels by skateboard or rollerskates. To some, forty minutes is far too long, especially in the wintertime. Sage has adjusted to the colder weather by now. They aren¡¯t afraid of the dark, but struggle sometimes with being alone. But it¡¯s been years - and many psychology sessions with their father. Healing doesn¡¯t happen all at once. That¡¯s something Sage learned from their parents, and it¡¯s hard to wrap their head around.


    ¡°Are you a boy or a girl?¡±


    Sage dresses for androgyny. If you look close enough, maybe you can see subtle things that give away Sage''s birth sex. It¡¯s alarming how many strangers stop them on the street to ask questions that are really none of their business. If you¡¯re not a person¡¯s doctor, parent, or lover, it shouldn¡¯t matter what they have between their legs. Still, Sage seems to anger a lot of people just by existing in the same spaces as them. They knew from a young age that gender is a construct, much like virginity. Rio was having sex in middle school. Sage has never once wanted to see someone else¡¯s genitals.


    Nature is most peaceful at night. Sage, along with the rest of the family, is an animist and a vegetarian. They wear a crystal necklace, and communicate with trees and plants in nature. It¡¯s very dark when Sage arrives at the recreation area. The moon is bright; Sage looks forward to moon rituals.

 VI. Trust Issues.

    "Ugh," says Rio, who happens to be the group leader. Ivo doesn''t know why ¨C Rio''s a total slacker. All he cares about is girls and sports. "This is boring! I don''t want to write a play."


    Ivo isn''t the most confrontational of people. But sometimes, he just can''t help it. "Oh, shut the fuck up, typhus dog." He isn''t shy. He just doesn''t see the point in talking if he has nothing to talk about, and he hates having friends. His notebook is covered in stickers he''s collected over the years, and contains the project he''s working on. While most people manage perfectly fine on their own, Ivo must use a magnifying glass to see the words on the paper. He can read Braille. As a kid, when he was still too stupid to think for himself, he taught himself using his father''s computer. Ivo has never owned a computer. Humans are stupid and naive, and artificial intelligence possesses sentience. While everyone else gets tracked and hacked, Ivo remains off the grid altogether, unknown, the way he likes it.


    "You are such an old man." Rio''s cocky, and constantly shuffles his feet on the floor when he walks. Everybody seems to think that Rio''s hot, and Ivo has to admit the man has an attractive voice. Ivo''s voice is feminine, like the rest of him. Sometimes, when he answers the phone, people think he''s a woman. Rio sits back in his chair, feet up on the desk in front of him. "What''s your name again?"


    It''s a large class. Most of it is done in groups, and Ivo has gotten used to it. He adjusts his thick-rimmed glasses, which are falling down his face. With his glasses on, he can see very little through his good eye, and nothing through the other. Without them, he can''t see a single thing. "Ivo Van Alst." In junior high, people called him Birdboy. Well, usually they called him "freak", but whatever. It''s not Ivo''s fault he looks so strange.


    "Right." Rio snaps his fingers, removing his feet from the desk. "Ivo. You''re from somewhere in Europe." It''s not a quiet class. With everybody paired off into groups, there''s a fair amount of socializing. Ivo wishes he could work alone. He won''t look at Rio. Lots of people assume that because he''s an introvert, he has to be shy. He''s gotten tired of explaining the two are not mutually exclusive. He''s not shy, but he''s not outgoing either. They get back to work, not speaking unless necessary.


    Ivo curses a lot, and lies a lot. Most people in America take this personally. He likes the cold, and sometimes wishes it was colder in Fairbanks. With a sensitivity to lights and sunshine, Ivo always wears sunscreen, even in the dead of winter. Pim, who had albinism too, swore up and down that sunscreen would give him cancer, but Ivo hated when his skin scabbed and peeled, and the sun gives you cancer too. Ivo gets a lot of attention for the way he looks, and it''s not always positive. Words mean nothing. Nobody has anything productive to do.


    Although Ivo has some light perception and can make out shadows and outlines, he tells people he''s blind, because this is easier to explain. Despite not being able to see where he''s going, Ivo refuses to walk with a cane unless absolutely necessary. He dislikes the questions it brings, and he''s memorized all of the routes he needs. Even in childhood, he couldn''t see well. It''s better to be born blind than to lose your vision later on. Ivo has very good hearing. This is something Anika hates.


    Juno meets Ivo after class. He''s never asked her to. She''s obsessed with him for no good reason. "Oh my God," she says, watching the students file out. "He''s so hot. I wish we were friends." Juno is just like every other girl. She gets excited over guys who never give her the time of day. She''s never had a serious boyfriend, but seems to think she''ll be noticed by people way out of her league. She stares at Rio, who stands outside the classroom chatting with a group of students. She reeks of desperation, and no guy would want a girl like that. "You''re in the same class," she says suddenly to Ivo, as if he doesn''t know this. "Can you talk to him for me?"


    Ivo wrinkles his nose. "Rio''s a douche. All he does is sit around and think he''s the king of the world just because he happens to play on the hockey team." He begins to walk, forcing Juno to hurry to keep up. Ivo always walks quickly, even when he''s not in a hurry. Despite his short stature, he''s very fast.


    "He''s hot, and friendly. I love popular guys."


    Ivo wears sunglasses indoors. If the lights weren''t so bright, he wouldn''t have to. His eyes hurt, as they always do in brightly lit places. "He''s a dickhead. We all know you''re desperate, but have a little self-respect."


    Juno scoffs, slapping Ivo. She does this a lot. He''s never afraid to slap her back. When he walks away, she scurries to keep up, never understanding boundaries. It''s really no wonder her parents never liked her. Juno''s taller than him, but he''s smarter, and doesn''t spend all his free time fawning over other people. "I know you''re blind, but you''re not stupid. You''ve got to know an attractive person when you hear one." She walks noisily, rarely with friends or other students. Like Ivo, Juno prefers to be alone. Unlike Ivo, she couldn''t make friends if she wanted to.


    He shrugs. "I may be blind, but at least I''m not a total waste of space."


    He''s a dick. He knows this, and it doesn''t matter. People need to be told the truth. Ivo knows all the best ways to offend Juno. She believes every lie he''s ever told. "Sometimes," she mutters, shuffling her feet on the floor, "I wish I never came to get you off the streets. You''re such an asshole, and for no reason."


    Most people probably would feel guilty about hurting others, even unintentionally. That''s a stupid way of looking at life. Ivo doesn''t have the time or patience to sugar coat things - and hurting people''s feelings is inevitable, and never bothered him. He''s not affected by criticism, in the same way he isn''t affected by compliments. The thing about other people is that they can''t hurt you unless you let them, and Juno always lets them. The thing about not giving a fuck is that nothing can hurt you.


    In his locker at work, Ivo has things he''s stolen from the company. Everybody is incompetent here. It''s a billion dollar company that certainly won''t miss or notice a little missing stock. It''s easy to get away with shoplifting if you''re not an idiot. Money is worthless. You could have all the money in the world and still be miserable. If it weren''t for dead, old, rich, white men, it would have no more value than any ordinary piece of paper. Ivo hates large corporations, and doesn''t trust anything until it''s proven itself to him. This is very hard to do. He''s been a cynic for so long that almost nothing can change him. Before Pim''s death, he spent a lot of energy talking about his mistrust for the government, vaccinations, and men in ties and coats. He never elaborated on why. If someone asked for a root cause of Ivo''s cynicism, he''d say it came from his father. At the time of Ivo''s birth, he was clean: but relapse hit quickly, and nobody ever spoke of it. Ivo has never touched drugs - but not because he hasn''t been tempted. He never wanted to end up the same: worthless and forgotten. Pim was not a good father, and he probably knew this.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    In his adult life, Pim was known for his long-winded tangents and rambles. Once, he told Ivo about an encounter he had with the men in black, who always somehow disappear just as fast as they come. "Why do you think nobody knows for sure if aliens exist?" Pim said, scribbling on a piece of paper. "They don''t want us to know about them. They''re always watching us. They''re even inside the computers."


    Pim believed everything he heard. He wasn''t always a paranoid man, but seemed to develop this trait sometime during the peak of his addiction. Ivo doesn''t watch the news.


    Like the man who raised him, Ivo pays for everything with exact change. He doesn''t have a bank account, and likely never will. He keeps his wallet inside a fanny pack, and gets paid by his supervisors by check, cashing them at places like Walmart or the bank that issued it. Of course, it''s rare for Ivo to step foot inside a bank; they''re corrupt and dishonest, and will steal from their customers more often than they''ll help them. He gets many strange comments; no one carries cash anymore except drug dealers and prostitutes. Ivo has been both of these things. In Europe, he could decipher bank notes by their color. In America, he deciphers them by how they''re folded in his wallet.


    Ciel smokes Viceroy. Ivo dropped out of high school sometime in his junior year, and has no plans to return to education. But everyone knows how it is. Even with a degree, or multiple, it''s nearly impossible to get a job. Anyway, Ivo really has no ambition: besides moving off-grid and building himself a house. From a young age, he was forced into independence, cooking and cleaning for a man who didn''t work, transporting himself to and from school, and working his first job at the age of twelve. No one ever questioned this.


    Once or twice, a teacher would question Ivo about his personal life. He learned how to lie at a very young age. In the winter of ninth grade, he got suspended from school for fighting. In the hallway near a group of lockers, he glowered at a group of seniors, who all towered over him. "Hey, everyone!" one of the boys shouted down the hallway, gathering the attention of several students. "Ivo likes dick! Don''t you, gay boy?" He''d pushed Ivo, knocking the glasses from his face and onto the floor. "Don''t you? Do you want my dick, faggot?"


    Ivo had lurched, pushing the bigger boy to the floor. Thinking back on it, he was probably seventeen or eighteen, and easily tackled by a fourteen year old. Ivo isn''t especially strong or muscular, but he''s easy to anger, and behaves rashly. He''d begun to punch the boy, over and over again, starting a chorus of teens chanting "Fight, fight!" This got Ivo going: the attention. The bully had punched him too, though if it was a fight, he clearly wasn''t winning. Ivo fought a lot, growing up. They started in elementary school, and continued all through adolescence. Juno was always interfering. As a chant erupted around Ivo and the senior boys, she''d run over from across the hallway, through the throng of students watching, and yanked him off the boy. "Stop it!" His nose was bleeding, his glasses cracked and crooked. "Stop fighting!"


    "Get off me!" The principal was approaching: a strict woman who never smiled, and whose hair was in such a tight bun it pulled on the skin of her face. Ivo swung his fist, hitting Juno in the face, hearing her tumble to the floor. "I don''t need your help!" He''d wiped a dirty hand across his face, leaving a streak of blood. "Thanks a lot, Juno." He snorted, standing and flipping the bird to the older boy''s back. "Now he''s gone. Next time, mind your own fucking business." After pushing his glasses back up, he''d scooped up his backpack and walked away: past the crowd of onlookers, past the bully''s friends, past the stern principal, and straight into the detention room. Ivo got detention for many different things. When it wasn''t skipping, it was lying, or stealing, or fighting. Detention never made him behave any better, and so then he''d get suspended for days or weeks at a time, and Anika would scream at him, and he''d act out at school. It became a vicious cycle, really.


    Once, he asked Pim how he met his mother, and he had no response. Ivo knows he was conceived after a casual hookup between junkies. He knows his mother signed over custody rights after his birth, and then vanished, never to be heard from again. Pim never shared this voluntarily. It''s easy to learn things from people if you know their weak spots. Two years ago, after Ivo was outed to his aunt by a neighbor, Anika confronted him, demanding to know if it was true, if he really was a pillow-biter. Anika has never been shy about her distaste for Ivo, and found much offense in his retorts. He had a lot of retorts.


    At home, Ivo takes a cigarette from the carton on the table. As usual, Ciel is in the living room; Ivo can hear him breathing. Most likely, the man is poring over a photo album of his wife and daughter, who are dead because of him. He does this a lot. It''s a waste of time, really. Lighting up the cigarette in the kitchen, Ivo pushes his glasses up. "Don''t you have anything better to do than stare at pictures of dead people?" It''s a wonder, really, that Ciel hasn''t yet told him to leave. Without Ivo, there''s no way Ciel would stay out of debt, and he knows this. There''s no point dwelling on the past. The dead stay dead. There''s nothing after death except darkness.


    Ciel has a job. This is what he says, anyway. He slams the photo album down with a sigh, sounding pathetic. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop smoking inside?" You could tell Ivo the same thing a hundred times. If it doesn''t mean anything to him, nothing will change.


    Ivo blows a smoke ring. "Or what, you''ll kick me out?" Sometimes, he wishes Ciel would. Nobody in this house has any backbone. People just do what makes them uncomfortable so that others are appeased, and pretend not to be bothered by things that are terribly bothersome. No matter what Ivo says or does, someone will be offended. That''s why there''s really no reason to be politically correct. Ivo says what he wants without fear of retribution. He''d rather be right than liked.


    It''s cold in the house. Ivo would much rather be cold than hot. The lights are dim, and don''t hurt his eyes as much as others. Ivo never turns the lights on, but uses candles when he needs to see. "The smell hurts Juno''s head," says Ciel, like he gives a shit. If it wasn''t for Anika''s constant nagging, he never would have let Juno move in with him at all. "She''s not feeling well today."


    Juno''s bedroom is across from Ciel''s. Ivo''s bedroom used to be the shed, but he insisted on turning it into a living space. It''s preferable this way, having to leave the house to get to him. There''s one small bedroom and nothing else, and this is where Ivo spends most of his time. "Too bad the world doesn''t cater to Juno." Everybody pities her because she''s dying. No one deserves special treatment just for being sick. The living room is messy. If it were up to Ivo, the house would always be tidy.


    Ciel frowns. "Don''t be an asshole, Ivo. Juno''s dying." Everyone reminds him of this constantly. He hasn''t forgotten, so the reminder is more annoying than anything.


    "We''re all dying." Ivo smells like smoke, and isn''t bothered by it. "Some of us just die faster than others." He shrugs, letting ash fall onto the kitchen floor before wandering off.

 VII. Tiptoeing On The Edge Of Reality

    Aspen has been traveling for four hours. Though her parents try to contact her when she leaves the house, there''s no point responding. Nobody understands Aspen, except her boyfriend, Ronnie, who loves her. Aspen knows this because he tells her all the time. Her parents hate her boyfriend. He says, when she turns eighteen, he''ll marry her.


    "Are we almost there?"


    It''s a six and a half hour drive to Anchorage. Aspen has never been to a cosplay convention, though she''s wanted to for years. As the youngest, Aspen''s used to getting what she wants; she was always her parent''s favorite child, and it''s not a secret. But she''s overprotected, especially by her father, who treats her as a baby. Her mother, who doesn''t trust her, thinks she''s staying with her best friend for the weekend. Instead, she''s sitting in the passenger seat of a man her parents hate, all dressed up for a convention. Aspen''s father hates to disbelieve her. Ever since she was a little girl, all Aspen has to do is flutter her eyelashes, and she gets anything she wants.


    Ronnie smokes weed while he drives, which makes Aspen uncomfortable. "Just about." He''s mature and independent, and he pays attention to Aspen like nobody ever has. They met a year ago, at a party thrown by an older student at the high school, when Aspen was still on speaking terms with her sister. Juno''s too sensitive. Nothing ever stays secret forever. "You still down to stay in a hotel tonight?"


    When Ivo still lived with her, Aspen participated in vandalism with him. He''d take her to semi-isolated areas to spray paint walls, or slash tires, or pull out flowers from strangers'' yards. She supposes this is where her thrill-seeking nature stemmed from. Ivo is a good criminal. He''s spry and smart, and never gets caught. They don''t speak anymore. This, says Aspen''s mother, is for the best. She has mixed feelings about her cousin, anyway. She has mixed feelings about many things. When her mother found out Ivo was gay, she forbade the children from associating with him, for fear that his choices would influence them. Before moving out, he blackmailed Anika into giving him a hundred dollars. Ivo''s choices have influenced Aspen - just not in the way her mother thinks.


    "Of course."


    The truth is, as much as Aspen loves Ronnie, she''s intimidated by him. He''s eighteen years old, and lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment, which she''s been to several times. Sometimes, he makes her fear for her safety: by punching walls or shouting at her. Afterwards, he always apologizes, and Aspen always forgives him. "My mom is calling me. She probably got a call from my teacher, again." Today isn''t the first time Aspen snuck out of school. Her father, who has caught her sneaking out of the house multiple times, equipped the home with an alarm system. Ivo, who hates technology, taught her how to bypass the security system in exchange for a hundred dollars. He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart. Most of the time, Aspen doubts he has any goodness in him at all. When she leaves after dark, she''s always sure to be home by morning.


    "Here," says Ronnie, after parking outside the convention center. "Have a puff before we head inside."


    When they met, Aspen was struggling with bullying at school. Ronnie, who works at a liquor store, made her feel safe and heard, and spoke to her every day. "My parents said drugs rot your brain." It''s cold. The car windows, which are frozen shut, contain a thin layer of frost. Ronnie has a criminal record, and a lot of tattoos. Aspen is forced to see him in private, when her parents aren''t around. She''s smarter than them. Parents think they''re always right.


    "It''s just pot." Ronnie frowns, holding the joint in front of her face. "You''re always so uptight when we go out. You''ll ruin the whole day if you don''t smoke." Ronnie can be harsh sometimes, but he does everything for Aspen''s own good. She takes a few puffs before following him inside, adjusting the black wig of her costume.


    The last time Aspen spoke to her sister, Juno was still living at home. Since moving out, she''s become different. Aspen is expected to pity her, the way her whole family pities her. The last time they spoke, Aspen told their parents about Juno''s abortion, and Juno swore to never speak to her again. Aspen isn''t really sure what Juno expected; surely, a minor can''t do something morally wrong and expect to get away with it. Abortion isn''t illegal in Alaska. In the eyes of Anika and the family''s religion, it''s just like killing a person.


    The convention center is large, and Aspen has never been here before. According to Ronnie, it''s 200,000 square feet, filled with cosplayers and anime merchandise. Some of Aspen''s friends, with cars of their own, made plans to meet her. "Don''t wander off," says Ronnie, taking Aspen by the arm. "We both know how anxious you get in public." He''s always charming in public. She looks older than she is, so nobody really ever bats an eye at seeing them together.


    Aspen doesn''t like smoking weed. She feels alert and motivated, but it''s not natural. To her, the idea of doing drugs is more exciting than actually doing them - and Aspen is a minor, who shouldn''t even be smoking in the first place. Her relationship with Ronnie is complicated. Some days, he treats her as though she''s a child and needs protecting. This is the way Aspen''s father feels about her, too. Some days, Ronnie expects her to be an adult, and make adult decisions. Sometimes he wants to have sex, and makes Aspen feel guilty for being hesitant. She was raised to believe that sex is for marriage, but also that it''s her job to be subservient to her future husband. In two years, she''ll marry Ronnie anyway, and then she won''t have to say no ever again.


    "Aspen!"


    Just inside the entrance of the convention center, Aspen''s best friends appear, all dressed as characters from Naruto. "This fit slaps," says Kylie, looking Aspen up and down. Her friends have met Ronnie before: and, like everyone else, they know only what he shows them. "Sup, Ronnie."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He doesn''t let go of her hand in public. Aspen suspects this is because he likes others to know that she belongs to him. She likes it, feeling protected. When she lived at home, her mother used to tell her she was too immature to date. Juno would say this, too, but what does Juno know? She''s only a couple of years older, but acts as though she has years and years of life experience. "When you''re dying," she''d say, always playing the dying card, "you look at life differently." Aspen thinks her sister just looks for excuses to act superior.


    "I''m hungry. Let''s go get some lunch."


    William and Kylie are the same age. They have a crush on each other, but neither will say anything. Every time Aspen pressures one into making a move, they always act embarrassed and change the subject. In the main area of the convention center, Aspen and her friends stop for lunch. Aspen feels anxious and self-conscious, as she usually does in public. Ronnie has a tight grip, and doesn''t dress up, claiming that cosplay is kid''s stuff. Still, he was the one with the idea to come today.


    "I don''t like your friends."


    It''s loud. Aspen has great hearing, but even so: if she doesn''t stand very close to people, it''s hard to hear them. "Why not?" She doesn''t have many friends. As a kid, everybody got along with one another. Life doesn''t seem so simple anymore. Her parents would never believe this, anyhow, if Aspen brought it up. It''s believed that a teenager can''t have worries, or struggles, or anxiety - Aspen has no job, and she''s certainly never experienced the stress of adulthood in the way older people have. So it feels wrong to complain, because it''s true, Aspen doesn''t know what it''s like to struggle. Her mother, certainly, would point this out without hesitation.


    William and Kylie sit in the corner, chatting about their cosplay costumes. Aspen has been watching anime since she was twelve years old. This also was around the time she met her best friends. Ronnie glances over, and then touches Aspen''s wig. He''s gentle, when other people are around. "They''re childish. You''re mature, and you get along better with older people, like me." He has a point. Since meeting Ronnie, Aspen has grown up rather quickly. She''s been exposed to things most girls her age haven''t, and that probably makes a difference. Some days, she feels very adult, like she could be living on her own and working every day. But other days, she has to ask her mother how long to boil an egg.


    "You think so?"


    Ronnie has pet names for Aspen. Most of the time, he never calls her by her actual name. Juno says this is suspicious, but she''s never been in love, so she doesn''t understand. "You haven''t noticed?" Aspen''s friends giggle; they sit close by, and didn''t ask her to join them. Ronnie says nothing else about them, but eats in silence.


    "No matter how badly you want to believe otherwise, you''re still a child. And, until you graduate high school, you''ll be treated as one."


    Aspen fights with her mother a lot. It''s always something with Anika. Her parents have been married for twenty eight years, although they really should not be married at all. Aspen was taught that divorce is wrong - but sometimes, it feels a lot less wrong than living your whole life in misery. On a day when Juno still lived at home, when she was newly diagnosed and becoming the new favorite child, she was once again watching her mother and her sister argue. Juno never stood up for Aspen. At times, Aspen wonders if what she did was too harsh. It''s too late to take it back now.


    Aspen stood in the living room, taller than her mother, but looking up at her father. "You guys torture me on purpose. You want me to be miserable! You don''t understand our relationship!" She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling at her parents, who never seem offended by this. "When I''m eighteen, I''m going to move in with Ronnie, and you can''t stop me."


    Juno snorted. Her father stood, towering over her. "Over my dead body."


    Aspen was never very good at keeping her emotions in check. She was angry with her parents, and angry with Juno. Aspen was supposed to be the favorite child. Since Juno''s diagnosis, all Aspen''s parents could do was dote over her. "When I''m eighteen, you won''t be responsible for me anymore, so I can do whatever I want. I''m going to get married and never talk to you guys again." It was strange to fight with her father. All of her life, Aspen had her father wrapped around her little finger. One day, he became disappointed in her, and now things aren''t the same anymore. "Why do you hate me?" Parents are supposed to want the best for their children. It feels to Aspen like her parents don''t want her to be happy.


    Juno normally keeps to herself. At the time of this argument, she sat in the kitchen, eavesdropping like the nuisance she is. "He''s too old for you!" Juno said, as if anyone had asked her. "He''s an adult man, and you''re a teenager!"


    "So?" Aspen''s hands were balled into fists at her side: not to punch something, just a sort of reflex to frustration. "Honestly, just shut up, Juno. Nobody asked you."


    People pretend to be weak to get attention. Juno does this all the time: acting as though she can''t stand, or like she''s about to be sick, so that people will take pity on her. When she seized - or pretended to seize - at the table, Aspen''s mother ran to her side to tend to her. "Don''t be rude to your sister, Aspen. Honestly, I don''t understand why you can''t be more like her."


    When Aspen was fourteen, Juno told her a secret and made her swear to take it to her grave. Aspen had promised, because that''s what sisters did. But people change. "You want me to be like Juno? Okay. I''ll go have sex with a random guy, and then kill the baby he puts inside of me. Then I''ll be just like her." Aspen knows this wasn''t fair. In Alaska, there''s no requirement for parental consent when it comes to abortions. Juno had a boyfriend at the time, and it wasn''t entirely her fault. Still, she''d chosen to engage in something sinful, and everything has consequences.


    It was quiet. Aspen looked forward to the fallout. Juno stared at her, a type of hatred in her eyes usually reserved for only worst enemies. Aspen regretted saying this, but it had already been said, and words can''t be taken back. Ivo would probably be proud of her for this betrayal. Ivo isn''t somebody a decent person would aspire to be like.


    Not moving from the table, Juno didn''t blink. She spoke in a voice that didn''t sound like hers, that was throaty and hoarse. "I hate you. I''m never speaking to you again." And, always true to her word, she didn''t.

 VIII. Midnight Sunshine.

    Enki has big tits, and Rio is a slut. Despite how hot she is, it''s about three months into their relationship, which means Rio is getting bored. Enki is sloppy, but never lets Rio cum in her mouth. It''s a little frustrating, but he supposes it''s her choice after all. As a party rages in Enki''s dorm house, she sucks Rio''s dick in her bedroom. It''s early, and he should be in bed. Yesterday, there was a hockey game. This morning, Rio has to work on a project for drama class.


    "Fuck," he says, holding the back of Enki''s head. She doesn''t give the best head he''s ever had, but he''ll never give up an opportunity for a blowjob. Enki says Rio''s the best fuck she''s ever had - and not to be conceited, but this is not a surprise. He''s into body mods, and pierced his dick for the first time two years ago. Enki loves the beads he has embedded in his cock, and the piercings along the underside of it. They took a while to heal. Sometimes, people hear a rumor about Rio''s pearling and want to see for themselves. News travels fast. Every day, there''s someone new curious to find out what it feels like to fuck a man with beads in his cock.


    Enki moans. He always falls apart in her hands. If he were a nice guy, he would have broken up with her before she went down on him. She likes the control he shows of his tongue, which was split a year ago, and allows him to move each side separately. His hands grab Enki''s hair, pulling and pushing her head until she nearly gags. He likes it when people gag sucking him off, and most people do. Enki looks at him, her eyes glossy and wide. "Good girl," he coos ¨C he can''t help that he''s dominating. It''s hard to speak when he''s so worked up, and so everything he says sounds like a mumble. After today, she''lll probably never speak to him again.


    Lots of people still think Rio is straight. As a child who was encouraged to experiment growing up, even he thought this until adulthood. Letting loose was fun. Getting wild is continuously a good time. He shudders; Enki replaces her mouth with her hand, sliding over the beads under Rio''s skin. When she gets him off, she always pulls her shirt down, exposing her tits. It''s almost time for Rio''s Second Degree initiation.


    After this, he''ll be a full-fledged member of the coven: able to train new initiates, and to help his father lead rituals. In a year and a day, he''ll be able to become a High Priest.


    "I''ve been thinking."


    "Oh?" Enki is short and round, but dresses in clothing that shows off her body. "Should I be worried?" She rests her elbows against Rio''s exercise station, smacking her lips with gusto. She knows she''s good at getting him off. Of course, it doesn''t take much.


    Rio needs to get to class. It''s almost Christmas break, and he doesn''t celebrate. As Enki cleans herself off, he shrugs. "We should break up."


    "What?" Enki stops her lip smacking to stare incredulously at Rio. "Seriously? I just had your dick in my mouth, and now you''re saying you want to break up." Her arms are crossed, her body much more closed now. "You''re unbelievable."


    "I mean..." Rio knew she would take this badly. "I''ve been thinking about it for a while. I just haven''t said anything until now." This makes him an asshole, maybe. Rio is not the indecisive type. He''s just been trying to avoid a blow-up like this.


    Enki scoffs. "Asshole." There it is. He''s been expecting that. It''s terrible, but it''s also kind of funny. "Fuck you, Rio."


    He wants to make a joke, but even Rio knows it''s terrible timing. "Hey, we could still be friends?" It''s a weak attempt at humor, and he knows it. Enki rolls her eyes and stalks out of his bedroom, not even stopping to acknowledge his dorm mates on the way out. They''ll question him later, probably, but it''s not something he''ll bring up unless he''s asked. Growing up with a psychiatrist for a father, Rio learned from a young age how to communicate. Though his parents never blamed him for Cassia''s death, he spent years feeling responsible. Children do what they know how to do to survive. Even the most well-rounded people panic in times of stress.


    This morning, Rio was late for practice after giving a ride to an old woman. His father used to say there''s nothing more important in life than human rights, and that, as black men in America, he and Rio would need to work twice as hard to get to the same place. This is something that sticks with him. Maybe, if you go out of your way for others, they''ll think of you as trustworthy instead of dangerous.


    "Can you stop shuffling your feet when you walk? It makes me want to bang my head against a wall."


    Ivo frowns, looking up from his notebook, setting his big magnifying glass on the desk next to him. He has the lightest blue eyes. Their whites are spotted with red, something Rio has never seen before, but it could be because his skin is so pale. For some reason, he always looks like he''s about to burst into tears, which doesn''t suit him at all. Working with him makes Rio feel conflicted, but nobody else can bear to be around him. "Jeeze, what''s up your ass? I pace when I brainstorm." He''s been in class about two minutes, and already wants to leave.


    "Well, do it like a normal person and stop pacing. You''re driving me crazy." Ivo is easily annoyed, but how is that Rio''s fault? Neither of them want to be here, especially with each other. Rio has to admit though: it''s kind of hot when Ivo gets worked up. "You think you''re some kind of celebrity for being a student athlete, but you''re really just an asshole and a slacker."


    He tries very hard to hate Rio, which is kind of suspicious. It''s like he puts extra effort into pretending he can''t stand the guy. And maybe he can''t. But you''d think he''d be a little more subtle about it. "How do you even know I''m pacing, anyway? I thought you were blind."


    Ivo always has a retort. He thinks he''s smart, and Rio thinks he''s fun to annoy. "I''m not deaf, dipshit. You shuffle your feet so loudly that my father is rolling in his grave. You deserve an award for being the world''s biggest idiot."


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    Ivo has fucked up eyes. They roll when he tries to focus on something, so that he has to move a certain way to make out what he''s looking at. Rio brings a hand to his chest. "An award? For me? Shit, I''m honored; I better start writing my acceptance speech!" His feet are on the table, one crossed over the other. On the other side of the library, Enki sits with a group of friends. It''s kind of a shame, really. Although it might not seem it, Rio cares about people. It''s much easier to make a joke out of things than to face the reality of them.


    "I hate you."


    "No, you don''t." Normally, Rio isn''t this much of an asshole. Something about getting under Ivo''s skin is exciting. Rio would never dare admit it, but he kind of likes Ivo''s attitude. This isn''t something he''s normally into, but there''s a first time for everything. Rio likes a bratty submissive. He also likes a challenge. "You want to fuck me ¨C and I can''t blame you. Everybody wants to fuck me."


    "Disgusting." Ivo makes a retching sound, pretending to stick one skinny finger down his throat. Jesus, he''s such a twink. "I''d rather fuck a cactus."


    This weekend, Rio promised to visit Sage. It''s a very long drive, and he seldom has time to make it. Sage has a lot of potential, but doesn''t believe in themself. Rio regrets not learning to play an instrument. It''s not too late, he supposes: but Sage started young, and Rio is already twenty. "Sure you would, Four-Eyes."


    Rio remembers when his sibling came out to him. He was seventeen, and Sage fourteen. Sage had taken him aside and shut the door to tell him they were non-binary, and asexual, and that was that. There was no huge party, no big deal, not much more was said of it after that. Rio has never come out. He''s never really felt the need to; he loves who he loves, and nobody really gives a shit.


    When Rio was sixteen, he realized he was polyamorous. Many people don''t understand the concept, and it''s something he''s gotten tired of explaining. He isn''t one of those people who believe in soulmates and exclusivity. To him, there are just far too many people in the world for that. To monogamous people, it''s always a heavy topic. Rio mentions he dates multiple people at once, and almost everyone freaks out. Something Rio doesn''t understand is people''s resistance to his sexuality. It''s like they all think he can only be straight or gay, and nothing in the middle makes sense. He dates men, and he dates women, and he dates people who aren''t either ¨C but all anyone can focus on is gay and straight. There comes a time when a person gets tired of explaining it to everyone: it''s not a black or white subject.


    Outside the bathroom, a bald girl stands with her foot against the wall. Rio always sees her with Ivo, although the boy doesn''t seem to pay much attention to her. Rio is bad with names. He doesn''t usually hang around a person long enough to need to know names. "What''s up," he says to the girl, whose face turns pink. It''s not a surprise. He has this effect on a lot of people. The bathroom is plain, empty except for one man, combing through his untamable white hair in the mirror. Rio shouts across the room to him. "Hey, Four-Eyes! You dress like a grandpa." Rio supposes it''d be easy enough to just ignore Ivo and move on, but this is way more fun. There''s just such a sick sense of satisfaction in pestering him, and it''s so easy to do. He''s hot, in the strangest way, but he''s uptight and ill-tempered. Sage once asked why Rio enjoys annoying him so much, and although Rio insisted it was out of hatred, Sage had suspected there to be a different reason.


    For some fucking reason, they''ve been seeing each other everywhere. Ivo stiffens, rolling his eyes at the mirror. "You''re a douche. Now fuck off."


    Rio doesn''t hate Ivo. Sure, the guy gets on his nerves, but he really doesn''t have the energy to hate him for it. He pouts, wiping a fake tear from his cheek. "Sounds like somebody''s having a bad day. Should I tell you a joke?"


    He wouldn''t pass up a chance to fuck Ivo. The kid''s such a twink, Rio bets he could have a lot of fun with him. "No." His arms are at his sides, closed into fists. "I hate you and your stupid jokes, and your dumb face-"


    "Yeah?" Rio doesn''t believe this. "Then why are you looking at me like you want to fuck me?"


    For once, he''s got nothing smart to say. Rio''s horny, and Ivo is pretty, and sex has nothing to do with love. "That''s what I thought." Rio smirks, grabbing Ivo by the arm. Although he grumbles, he doesn''t pull away. Into the last, largest stall, Rio yanks the skinny boy inside.


    Rio fell off of a roof when he was seven. It was his grandfather''s garage roof back in Florida, which was about ten feet off the ground and overlooked a large green pasture. Back home, he''d sit up there to watch the stars or when he needed some time to himself, or even when he was really young and wanted to hide from the family. One night he lost his balance trying to climb up to the top, and tumbled down to the rocks in his grandfather''s driveway. He''d landed on his side and cut his knee on a particularly pointy rock, and now there''s a jagged scar across his left knee. It didn''t take terribly long to heal, and it''s not a large scar, but he suspects it didn''t heal properly, as it now looks weird.


    When Rio and Sage were about eleven and eight years old, their parents sat them down to explain about how some people thought their relationship was wrong. This had shocked Rio: how could something so normal and everyday be seen as wrong? They might get picked on at school, said Rio''s father, for having two dads. They might be treated differently. But it doesn''t matter who you love, as long as you''re a good person and you treat others well. Now that Rio''s older, he understands what his fathers have needed to surpass to be together. One day, he''d like to buy them a new house, or send them on an all-expenses-paid vacation. For now, all he can really do is visit once in a while, or buy little gifts to show his appreciation.


    "Shut up," Rio grumbles, his fist full of Ivo''s hair. Before beginning, he gave the boy an out ¨C but he didn''t take it. And so here they are, hate fucking in a public bathroom. "People are going to hear you."


    "Fuck you." Ivo has his hands against the wall of the stall, letting Rio have his way. "I can''t believe I''m letting you do this." When it comes to sex, Rio is not a gentle man. He can be accommodating if he cares for someone, but most of the time, he just fucks for pleasure.


    The taller man growls, not gentle or caring. That would imply he gives a shit if he''s hurting Ivo. "You love it, asshole. Maybe you need a good fuck to loosen up a little." He can tell it''s working; Ivo no longer speaks, but squirms and twitches under Rio''s unrelenting grip. His fingers grab the ends of Ivo''s hair, pulling hard enough the boy''s head is tipped backward. He grunts, one hand moving feverishly on his dick ¨C but Rio''s really into edging. "Hey!" He yanks the other boy''s hand away, and throws it down. "Did I say you could cum?"


    Rio is getting sweaty, tired, but oh, so satisfied. Ivo snorts. "I''ll do whatever the fuck I want. Now let go of my hair; you''re hurting me." He has an accent, and some words sound strange.


    "Sucks for you." Rio feels fulfilled when he cums, but he''s out of breath and thirsty. He can''t tell whether Ivo feels satisfied or used: and he doesn''t really care. They don''t say goodbye to each other afterwards, just dress, and go their separate ways.

 IX. Turning Nonsense to Gold.

    It''s raining in Winschoten. Rain isn''t dreadful, but it gets overwhelming sometimes, and Doutzen misses the sun. From what she knows of her past, she was born in Zutphen sixteen years ago, and abandoned soon afterward by her birth mother. Growing up, Doutzen''s parents were always forthcoming about her birth family: or what they know of it, which isn''t much. She doesn''t know the name of her birth parents, or the story behind her abandonment. She was found by her mother, Marit, in a dumpster outside of the hospital. It seems unbelievable that a person could just toss their baby away, as if it were garbage. Doutzen has heard stories of this happening. It''s one of those things that no one thinks will ever happen to them.


    When she''s not in school, Doutzen spends a lot of time in the library. It''s Christmas break, and Doutzen hasn''t yet received her diploma. Someday, she wishes to learn more about her biological family: but deep down, there''s a fear of having nothing to learn. Maybe her biological parents are dead. Maybe there''s nothing to know. Maybe, no matter how much effort Doutzen puts into finding her family, there''s nothing out there for her.


    "Mama," says Doutzen, sitting with Marit on the couch. She''s a kind woman, who took Doutzen in only weeks after she was born. "Can I talk to you about something?" It doesn''t matter how fond Doutzen is of her mother, or how much she treasures her family. There''s a sense of guilt and loss that comes with the desire to find the woman who gave birth to you. Sometimes, when Doutzen sees a woman she vaguely resembles on the street, she daydreams about her. Sometimes she wonders how different her upbringing would have been had Marit never found her, or if she had never been abandoned at all.


    It''s hard to explain to people who aren''t adopted. Why would anyone want to meet a woman who didn''t want them? Why would anybody choose the person who abandoned them over the family that gave them a life?


    Marit has two children of her own, but doesn''t treat Doutzen any differently. Everyone, she says, deserves to feel loved and safe. Marit puts her crossword puzzle down, looking up at Doutzen, probably having some idea of what she''s about to say. "Of course. What''s on your mind?"


    Doutzen is registered as Marit''s biological daughter. The story, according to Marit, is that she found a newborn in an alleyway and claimed it as her own, naming Doutzen and registering the infant as her own. This means that even some of Marit''s own family still doesn''t know the truth. Doutzen supposes it''s easier this way. On her tenth birthday, Doutzen''s parents sat her down and explained everything they knew about her family. For all intents and purposes, Marit and Ruben are Doutzen''s family. No one knows anything about her birth parents: not their names, not their backgrounds, not even if they''re still alive. "Well..." Doutzen isn''t really shy. She''s not outgoing, either. "You know how I wondered if I have family anywhere else?"


    It''s kind of a bizarre thought. A person could be related to a complete stranger, maybe even someone they interact with on a daily basis. Doutzen''s older siblings still live at home, but work even during the holidays. Doutzen''s still in secondary school. "Yes." Marit is supportive of her children, even when she doesn''t agree with their decisions. She says Doutzen doesn''t fully understand the risks that come with looking for estranged family. There''s a family photo on the wall from last Christmas. Doutzen looks nothing like her siblings. All of the family is brown-haired, and Doutzen is strawberry blonde.


    It''s humid, and Doutzen is warm. It''s hard to read her mother. Marit isn''t always as straightforward as she needs to be. There''s still so much unanswered. One small piece of information can go a long way. "Don''t be mad, but I joined some ancestry websites to try and find family members." It would be unusual for Marit to be angry over this. She trusts her children to make good decisions, and doesn''t coddle them when mistakes are made. "I have family in Amsterdam."


    It was quite exciting, actually, to discover there''s family living nearby. Although Doutzen knows little more than their names, she''s been in contact with someone named Verena, who shares twenty five percent of Doutzen''s DNA. According to Doutzen''s research, this must be an aunt, or a grandparent, or a half sibling. Doutzen hasn''t traveled much, but everyone''s been to Amsterdam, and it''s weird - she could have walked past relatives without even realizing. It''s a new year, and Doutzen has many resolutions. She''s not religious, but this doesn''t matter. There''s no such thing as coincidence. Everything happens for a reason, even if it''s bad.


    Doutzen wonders if Verena looks like her. She wonders if she has any biological siblings. "Is that so?" Doutzen''s oldest sibling, Timo, is twenty six years old. If he were here, he would surely make fun of her. "Have you been in contact?"


    From the age of nine, Doutzen has been transporting herself around the city. If she wanted to, she could probably travel around the country on her own. She''s not old enough to drive, and the bus can be time-consuming. Doutzen takes a breath; the front door opens, revealing her sister, Beatrix. "I''ve been talking to someone named Verena." The woman has no grandchildren, and no half-siblings that she knows of. This leaves Doutzen under the impression that she must be an aunt. "She gave me her address. She invited me to come meet her family."


    "What are you talking about?"


    Beatrix leaves her shoes in front of the door before flopping down onto the couch. "Did Doutzen find biological family?" It''s hard to tell whether the women feel betrayed by this. Marit''s children''s passions are important. Doutzen''s relationship with her family is important, too. "Are you leaving us?"


    Beatrix is five years older than Doutzen. Despite this, the girls get along more like friends than sisters.


    "Of course not!" Doutzen''s family has a dog and a cat, who fight with one another a lot. "I just want to go to Amsterdam and meet Verena. Maybe she knows more about my birth parents." Caspar, a lively papillon, nuzzles his head into Doutzen''s leg, waiting to be pet. "You''re my family. I would never leave you behind." She doesn''t tell her mother about the photos she''s received from Verena. It''s not a big deal. The woman has three kids, who Doutzen presumes to be her cousins.


    "Do you know anything about my birth parents, Mama? What are their names?"


    "I know that your mother left you right after your birth, but nobody knows what her name was, or even if she''s still alive."


    It takes just over two hours to get to Amsterdam. Doutzen has a one-track mind, as her mother has pointed out many times. "I suppose you want me to take you there today." Marit isn''t annoyed, just matter-of-fact. Doutzen can pretend, but her mother knows her well. Once her mind is set on something, it''s hard to change it.


    It was hard to wrap her head around it, once the truth about Doutzen was revealed. Her parents explained it with tact, but it was big news, and even the most considerate of deliveries couldn''t make it less so. When Doutzen demanded to know why she hadn''t been told earlier, her father apologized. He hadn''t needed to do this, she realizes now. The job of a parent is to keep their children safe under any circumstance. In the past, Doutzen complained about secrets her parents kept from her. Nowadays, she feels grateful to have parents at all.


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    "You''re hurting Mom and Dad''s feelings, you know. Why do you want to find family so badly? Are we not good enough?"


    Like any older brother, Timo finds joy in harassing his sisters. Almost exactly a decade older than Doutzen, Timo thinks he''s smart, and isn''t afraid to tell her so. He doesn''t know her at all. "No, Mom, Dad, and Beatrix are great," she''ll retort when he asks annoying questions, "it''s just you who isn''t good enough."As stupid as he is, it''s Timo''s job to annoy her, and she''s grateful for this in a strange way.


    "Feel free to stay in Amsterdam," says Timo, poking his head out of his bedroom long enough to annoy Doutzen one last time. "We won''t miss you."


    She throws a shoe at him. "Shut up, dweeb."


    What if you do find your birth mother, and she''s nothing like you expected? What if she''s a criminal, or wants nothing to do with you?


    Well, then at least I''d have an answer, and I wouldn''t have to wonder anymore.


    In recent years, Doutzen became interested in the concept of parallel universes. Though her siblings dismiss the idea as being ridiculous, it brings Doutzen comfort to think about different versions of her life. At the same time, it''s kind of sad to think about how many things she could have missed. If her birth mother had raised her, how different would her life have turned out? The thought of not knowing Marit and Ruben is depressing - but if Doutzen''s birth mother had kept her, she wouldn''t know any different. Maybe the woman was an addict. Maybe she was a teenager. There''s a reason she didn''t want her baby, and Doutzen desperately wants to figure it out. It''s like her mother says. Some things just aren''t ours to know.


    Amsterdam is much bigger than Winschoten. It''s been a while since Doutzen has been to a big city. Verena, who sent Doutzen her home address, has a large and pretty house in the center of the city. Doutzen has sweaty palms. Behind the walls are her aunt and cousins - this is both nerve-wracking and exciting. Marit shows support, but reminds Doutzen not to get too disappointed if things don''t go the way she hopes. This is easier said than done.


    "Doutzen?"


    Verena looks young. Realistically, she''s about as old as Marit, and has children older than Doutzen. Weeks ago, finding birth family seemed impossible and completely overwhelming. All Doutzen really had to do was a little research on the Internet, and now she has her first answer. There are many more, probably. It helps if people are forthcoming. It helps if people are willing to cooperate.


    "Hi, Verena." Doutzen almost calls her tante. She''s only been speaking to the woman for a week, but it feels natural. No one can replace Doutzen''s adopted parents. Sometimes, it''s just nice to broaden your horizons. When Verena comes toward her for a hug, Doutzen feels welcomed. It''s a good hug: firm and safe, but not too long. Marit, who Doutzen asked to stay, stays by her daughter''s side.


    "Come in." Verena hugs Marit, too. Doutzen''s mother is not a woman who enjoys being hugged, but she doesn''t complain. Feeling nervous, and rubbing her sweaty palms on her jacket, Doutzen follows the women inside. It''s a nice home, albeit cluttered. Doutzen is cluttered too. She sits on a skinny sofa, making space for Doutzen on her left. "This is my husband, Pieter, and my kids: Joke, Ilse, and Isaac." She gestures to each family member in turn, leaving Doutzen overwhelmed.


    She has cousins. While doing a DNA test to look for family, Doutzen discovered she was a carrier for albinism. Before this, she never thought about her health. Her mother holds her hand, calming Doutzen. Regardless of what happens, she''ll always have Marit and Ruben. "Thank you for having me." It''s hard to think of anything productive to say. Once Doutzen learns of biological family, she can never go back. "Nice to meet you all."


    The walls are decorated with crosses and prints of Biblical quotes. Verena wears a cross necklace. Joke is the oldest of her children. She has albinism, and sits at the table, sliding her fingers over a tactile Rubik''s Cube. Nobody else looks like her. Doutzen has questions: about Verena, about her parents, about genetics, but it all can''t be asked at once. Isaac, who looks to be about five or six years old, stares at Doutzen and her mother for a long time. "Who are you?"


    It''s all a bit much, already. It''s a very strange feeling: meeting relatives who don''t know of your existence. Doutzen isn''t a timid girl, but she suddenly feels very small and shy. "This is Doutzen," says Verena, pulling the small boy onto her lap. Things happen so quickly. Doutzen has an aunt, an uncle, cousins. Maybe they know the name of her parents. She folds her sweaty hands in her lap, gazing at the artwork on the living room walls. It''s hard to keep names straight. It''s hard to remember too much new information at once.


    Ruben smiles. "Have you learned much about your family or past since starting your research?"


    She hasn''t. How much is there to know? "Uh-" Doutzen''s cheeks flush. Her mother, who sits very close to her, offers an encouraging pat. "Not really." She''s spoken too quietly. Isaac continues to stare at her. Clearing her throat, Doutzen sits up straighter. "How many siblings do you have?"


    Joke looks up from her cube. Doutzen doubts the girl can see her. Verena frowns. "I haven''t seen my siblings since they moved out of our parents'' house in the eighties. I have a brother and a sister - I suppose, if you could call them that." That''s a relatable feeling. Sometimes, Doutzen''s siblings feel more like strangers than family. She''s nosy. She can''t bear not knowing the story behind this.


    When Doutzen graduates, she wants to become a flight attendant. During her life, she''s been on a plane only two times. One day, she''d love to visit America. In school, Doutzen studies English. She isn''t very good.


    Prioritizing is hard. Only ask the most pressing questions, Marit said. This might be easy for some people. To Doutzen, every question feels equally pressing. "Do any of your siblings have albinism? I found out that I have the gene, and I''m wondering who I got it from." It''s not hard to understand how genetic conditions work. Marit takes her hand off Doutzen''s leg to answer a text message. Joke speaks for the first time since Doutzen''s arrival.


    "She''s Pim''s."


    She has a dog, which removes itself from underneath the table when Joke stands. It''s a golden dog with a long tail, and accompanies the girl down the stairs. Doutzen supposes she''s not really a girl. Joke is older than her, by probably a few years. When she sits on the floor in front of the sofa, Verena looks surprised. "What makes you say that?"


    The dog nuzzles into Joke''s side; she scratches behind its ears, looking in Doutzen''s direction, but probably not seeing her at all. "She''s not yours. Anika never got the gene, remember? You said your parents made you all get genetic testing. So if she''s not your kid, and she''s not Anika''s, she has to be Pim''s." Joke speaks more rapidly than her parents, and this makes her sound confident. Doutzen tries to sound confident when she speaks, and never quite accomplishes it.


    "Who''s Pim?"


    The sun has come out since Doutzen''s arrival. She enjoys the sun, and looks forward to swimming in the summer. She''s wondering enough, probably, to make conversation last all day. Joke falls silent again, forcing her mother to fill the silence. "Pim is my brother."


    Doutzen''s head spins. A week ago, it all seemed like such a good idea. Maybe it''s true what everyone says. It''s foolish to search for the unknown. Most times, the unknown is better left that way. It''s quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Down the hall, shouts echo as the youngest children play.


    "My father''s name is Pim."


    It''s hard to tell how Marit feels about the information they''ve been given. Everyone can say they''re okay with something if it makes a loved one happy. There''s not a single human alive that doesn''t struggle with insecurity. Too much information at once makes Doutzen tired and confused. She''s received so much helpful knowledge, and there''s still much left unanswered. Doutzen shivers. Joke, after mumbling something into her mother''s ear, stands to walk away, with her dog wagging its tail behind her.

 X. sometimes youve got to bleed to know youre alive

    It''s intimidating to drive in the winter. Between black ice, snowstorms, and wildlife, Ciel would almost rather stay home. Sometimes, accidents are inevitable no matter how careful a person is. Ciel has done enough damage already. After months of nagging from Juno, he finally agreed to see a therapist, mostly just to shut her up. Juno''s a child, and she doesn''t understand real adult problems. Still, everybody gets angry when he points this out.


    Juno is nineteen years old. She''s spending her birthday at the hospital, getting treatment and feeling embarrassed about public breakdowns. It isn''t her fault. Juno pretends not to care about how others perceive her: but Ciel didn''t meet her yesterday.


    Work isn''t as fun as it used to be. Ciel became a tattoo artist because he''s passionate about it. At least, he used to be. Now, work just feels like a chore. He works on a design he''s been working on for many sessions: finishing up the sleeve of a regular customer. He makes casual small talk to pass the time, feeling vulnerable when conversation gets too personal. No one wants to know about his personal life. Later, he''s supposed to hang out with friends. Juno insisted, again, that he try dating. It''s impossible. Everything reminds him of Maria. Until she stops existing in everything, dating will end badly.


    Ciel has tried to persuade his sisters to make up. Drama is tiring, and family is forever. This is something Anika has told her children many times. You can''t choose your family. You just have to learn to live with them. For some, this is easier said than done. Juno was always forgiving. It seems she''s become harsher with her terminal diagnosis. People make mistakes, Ciel has tried to tell her. It doesn''t matter. Other people''s problems don''t matter.


    "Happy birthday," he says when Juno gets into the car. "I made you some cupcakes." It''s Juno''s last birthday, probably. He won''t mention this. Everyone already knows it. Juno bakes a lot, but she doesn''t eat a lot of baked goods. These days, she''s not very hungry. "How was your appointment?"


    She''s wearing a wig. This is something she never does, even though she has tons of wigs at home. "You can stop, you know." Juno''s brain tumor makes her unpredictable most days. She''s much less tactful than she used to be.


    The roads are icy, which makes Ciel feel anxious. "Stop what?"


    "Babying me." Juno pushes hair out of her face, pointedly ignoring her brother and his efforts. "You can stop acting like I''m this fragile person whose happiness means something to you just because I''m dying." She''s never gotten angry with him before. She reminds him of Maria when she''s angry. "Just leave me alone. We both know you''re trying to be nice because you pity me."


    They''re lemon cupcakes, Juno''s favorite. Bringing this up probably won''t change anything now. "Why are you in such a bad mood? I didn''t have to make you cupcakes, you know. You sound like Ivo."


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    It''s not a particularly long drive home, but it''s probably too far to walk when the weather is bad. Juno zips her jacket up higher before rolling her dark eyes at the window. "I didn''t ask you to do it at all!" She checks her phone, and then kicks snow off her boots onto the carpet. "You all think Ivo is so annoying, but he''s the only one who doesn''t act like I''m breakable just because I''m dying. You should try it sometime."


    The first argument Ciel and Maria ever had was about his mother. Maria hated Anika''s overbearing nature and judgmental attitude. Ciel hated Maria''s impoliteness toward his mother. As the only boy, Ciel was raised differently than his siblings, and he supposes this ended up being more of a detriment than anything. When Aspen and Juno were learning to cook and nurture for their future spouses, Ciel never knew how to be a caregiver. When Calypso was born, he had no idea how to be a father.


    Don''t argue with your brother. He''s older than you. You should be listening to him.


    They drive in silence. Juno stares at her phone, and locks herself inside her room upon arriving home. It''s not like her to be antisocial. It''s got to be scary for a nineteen year old to know they''re on death''s doorstep. Stepping outside for a smoke, Ciel pulls his hood over his head. He often thinks about moving somewhere warmer. It''s harder than people think it is to just pack up and leave. Plus, there''s no way Ciel could afford that.


    There''s spray paint on the shed walls. Ciel''s cousin is a strange boy, and acts nothing like other kids his age. Everyone has different theories as to why this is. He used to be angry about Ivo''s vandalism, but he''s learned to pick his fights, and that''s one that''s never worth fighting. There are cigarette butts scattered in the snow around the shed, which he usually picks up without addressing. There''s a patch of ice on the door, which is always locked.


    "Ivo!"


    Ciel knocks. He doesn''t have to knock loudly, because Ivo loves silence. He loves his privacy, too. Ciel''s mortgage payment is due soon, and he hasn''t got it all. It''s probably a waste of time to approach Ivo. The boy doesn''t respond, and the door stays shut. Ciel knocks again, louder. "Ivo! I need your rent money!" It''s embarrassing, having to ask people for help. Before the accident, Ciel couldn''t afford to pay the mortgage without Maria. Though he''s been saving money, there''s always unexpected expenses that come up, and work never pays as well as it should.


    There''s a record playing. Ivo only listens to folk music, which seems strange. For such a young person, he''s very old at heart. The garage door swings open, and Ivo''s still dressed in his work clothes, despite getting home hours ago. "Why?"


    He''s difficult for no reason. Ciel suspects Ivo, like most people, has a lot of unhealed childhood traumas - though he refuses to talk about it, and acts as though his problems are the fault of everyone else. Juno has a theory, she says. Ivo treats people badly on purpose because he likes to be alone. There has to be more to it than that. "I hate having to ask you, but it''s hard to manage everything without Maria."


    Sometimes, the only way you can get support from people is by making them pity you. It''s not nice to admit, but Ciel has played to strangers'' heartstrings before. There''s always someone who feels obligated to help. Ivo blinks. He''s not a boy who feels much sympathy. "You shouldn''t have killed her, then." He lights up a cigarette, which is probably Ciel''s, and cigarettes aren''t cheap. "Your financial burdens are not my responsibility. Go away." He never hesitates. He''s insufferable. Ciel wishes he would get deported. It''s a miracle he hasn''t already.

 XI. AAA.

    Next month, Sage turns seventeen. It''s intimidating to think about the future, and about graduation. All anyone ever talks about in high school is choosing a career, something you''re supposed to spend the rest of your life doing, and this is overwhelming. Sage wants to be a musician - and although they like making music, they aren''t exactly someone worth listening to. Sage doesn''t stutter when they sing. This is part of the reason they like it so much.


    In Wicca, Imbolc is a festival which marks the beginning of spring, and falls around the first of February. Brigid, a Celtic goddess of fertility and war, is honored on Imbolc, because she symbolizes spring: a time of rebirth and fertility, and the awakening of nature after a long winter. After getting home from school, Sage helps their parents put together an Imbolc altar with spring things like citrine and amber crystals, sheep figurines, snowdrops, incense, and spring candles. Later, they meet with the coven, which is headed by Amani, the High Priest, and Eleanor, the High Priestess. Sage has no interest in starting their own coven. Rio aspires to become a High Priest, and lead a coven of his own someday.


    "Lord and Lady," says Amani, holding his hands, palms down, over a pot of ghungi, "watch over us, and bless us as we eat. Bless this food, this bounty of earth, we thank you. So mote it be!" Since childhood, Amani has said mealtime prayers. As a child, Sage was never persuaded to participate; their parents prayed silently, and never involved the children unless they showed interest. Some days, when Rio can''t make it home for a holiday, he participates in rituals via video calls and text messages.


    Sage''s parents take turns cooking. Usually, it''s something ethnic and flavorful, which Sage loves, but gets teased for at school. Rio, who learns quickly, memorized several of his fathers'' dishes before moving out. Sage tries to be helpful in the kitchen, but gets flustered too easily.


    "I miss Cassia."


    The girl was four years old, and just becoming interested in the traditions and customs of her parents. Cassia loved Rio, and used to follow him around everywhere, determined to grow up to be just like him. The day of her death, he shouted at her, frustrated by her lingering and questions. There''s so much about a


    person''s psyche that nobody ever knows about. In the weeks and months immediately afterwards, Sage''s relationship with their brother struggled. They were eight years old when the family moved out of Florida. They haven''t had a friend since.


    Sage gets bullied a lot at school. Because of this, it''s often hard to leave the house in the morning. Despite many long talks with their father, it sometimes feels like things will never improve.


    Two days ago, Sage got a black kitten, and it follows them everywhere. Sage named the kitten Heka. Animals make things better after a particularly hard day, and they never judge. Heka doesn''t care what gender Sage is, or whether they speak well, or how many friends they have. It''s a shame that people can''t be the same way. Humans have a lot to learn from animals, but most people think they''re smarter and more important, just because they were born on top of the food chain. Every Yule, Amani and Surya provide a holiday tree from a farm out in the countryside. They always make certain to communicate with the tree, though this sounds stupid to others. Amani says the trees and the grass and the leaves have spirits, and deserve to be respected in the same way as people.


    When Sage is out walking, or minding their own business in a public place, people approach them out of nowhere. "Is that your real hair?" asks a femme-presenting person at the grocery store, almost every time. "Can I touch it?"


    "Well," Rio will say, shrugging, "I guess it''s a bonus that they asked for permission this time."


    Sage has never written a love song. Most people their age want to date and have sex and act like adults. It''s embarrassing to admit that Sage has no interest in any of this, and it''s confusing to try and figure out why. Sage isn''t adopted, despite what most people assume. Nobody really knows how to treat their father. Strangers want to be degrading by shouting transphobic slurs, while calling him things like faggot at the same time. Sage didn''t always know that they were genderless. For a long time, society forced them into choosing a side: girl or boy, as if that''s all a person can be.


    When Rio and Sage were born, their parents refused to raise them according to their sex. This was Surya''s idea, but Sage admires it. Babies are always given a gender at birth based on the parts they have, and Sage never really understood this.


    According to their parents, the children were raised without any indication of gender at all, labeled as gender neutral until old enough to decide for themselves. If one day Sage decided they were a boy or a girl, their parents would have no problem adjusting. It''s kind of pointless, anyway, to have labels. Sage is just Sage, and doesn''t feel satisfied with labels.


    All of Amani and Surya''s children were born at home. They''ve known for years that they''ll never become grandparents, and aren''t bothered by it. For some reason, it''s a big deal to a lot of people whether strangers plan on having children. Some parents pressure their children into having children, wanting their DNA or name to live on. Rio says the world is overpopulated as it is.


    "Acchan, I have a problem."


    Surya works steady hours, at places like hospitals and clinics. While Amani speaks to clients in his home office, Sage sits with Surya in the living room. They learned from childhood to be emotionally vulnerable, which is something a lot of people their age don''t seem very good at. Like any teenager, Sage''s parents get on their nerves, and sometimes don''t understand teenage problems.


    Sage''s parents are nearing their fifties, which Sage thinks is a little old. Surya touches the family photo on the wall before sitting next to them on the couch. "What''s on your mind?"


    Surya, who has lived in America for more than twenty years, still has quite a noticeable accent. Sage has seen people wrinkle their nose when he speaks, claiming they don''t understand, and telling him to speak English. Everyone seems to think he speaks Indian and practices Hinduism, and he always gets more than a few looks from store employees when Sage shops with him. As a biracial person, Sage is told often that it''s not possible to be more than one thing: and this is confusing.


    Wait, you''re black? I thought you were Indian.


    Can''t I be both?


    "How are you always so nice to people that stereotype you?" Sage will ask, knowing that some people don''t deserve compassion. "They''re so mean to you. Why don''t you ever get angry?"


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    Sage''s parents don''t talk about their traumas with their children. They hug them when asked, and often tell them that they''re loved. When Sage was younger,


    their parents read bedtime stories every night, and held their hand on the way to school. They weren''t always like this. After Cassia died, Sage''s parents became much more closed off emotionally, and much more protective. If Sage didn''t know any better, they would think their parents have never had any traumas at all. It''s important to be kind to everyone you meet, because you never know what the lives of others are like, and it''s usually the most unpleasant people who need the most kindness. Rio gets tired of their parents'' positivity phrases. Sage finds it extraordinarily difficult to be nice to people who purposely make life miserable.


    Surya is a kind man who doesn''t take well to his loved ones being mistreated. He sits with his legs crossed on the couch, wearing the pentagram necklace he always wears. "Getting angry doesn''t solve anything. I could argue back and make them more on edge, or I could just let it go and get on with my day."


    Most people aren''t obligated to educate someone else. People can ask personal questions that have nothing to do with them, but they''re not entitled to an answer.


    When friends visit the cabin, they''re always surprised by the hospitality of Sage''s parents. They don''t consider themselves "Southern", despite being from one of the most Southernmost places in the United States. Sage always wondered why their parents chose Alaska, instead of somewhere a little closer to home. According to Amani, it seemed like the best idea to get as far away from home as possible. "Do you think it''s weird that I''ve never had a crush on someone?" Sage has dated before. This was mostly out of obligation and curiosity; every other teenager dates, and Sage feels left out. The thing is: they''ve never loved a person any differently than they would love a brother or a friend. People say there''s all different kinds of love. Sage''s friends have explained what it feels like to fall in love, and to have a broken heart. These feelings sound foreign and unenticing.


    Surya is a better communicator than his children, but not his husband. He''s a transgender man who accompanies his children to pride parades every summer, and who attends rallies and protests when he isn''t at work. When Sage was an infant, Surya opened his own gynecology clinic specifically for transgender and non-binary patients, who sometimes now even come from Canada. Sage wants to be like their father. Every kid thinks their parents are perfect. When Sage was a child, they thought this too.


    "Not at all."


    Sage looks like Surya. It shouldn''t be as difficult as it is to explain to people that sometimes, kids have two dads. Sage gets asked a lot who their mother is, and which man is their real father. It''s common for a stranger, upon finding out that Surya gave birth to his own children, to disregard his identity and insist that, if he''s able to give birth, he must be Sage''s mother. Sage doesn''t have a mother. "There''s more to life than having crushes. Some people have lots of crushes throughout their life, and some people have none."


    Sage feels out of place in more ways than one. Life was so much easier as a kid. "I''m the only kid at school who''s never been in love. Everyone thinks I''m broken." Maybe they are. Maybe Sage should be in a relationship just to be like everyone else. They''re perfectly content with their musical instruments and friends. If Amani was here, he''d probably say not to speak in generalizations. Sage isn''t supposed to say things like everybody and nobody. Sometimes, that''s really what it feels like.


    Sage''s grandfather is a widower, and a practicing Hindu. He''s elderly and stuck in his ways, having lived more than fifty years in Kerala. It''s cause for tension sometimes, between Surya and his father, in regards to their differing beliefs. The only temple in the state is in Anchorage, which is too long of a drive for Sage''s grandfather to travel, as he''s losing his vision. Sage feels bad sometimes; their grandfather is in his eighties, and deserves to practice his religion freely, like the rest of the family. Though Surya sometimes drives his father to the city on his days off, Sage knows he longs for more opportunities to meet with fellow members of the temple.


    Surya has a head of thick hair, and so does his father. Sage knows little about the other side of the family, as Amani rarely speaks of his parents, and Sage has never been to Cameroon. "There''s nothing wrong with you, Sage." When he isn''t at work, Surya does things like tidy the cabin and accompany Sage on outings. "Do you know what it means to be aromantic?"


    There are so many types of orientations. Sage only recently learned the difference between sexual attraction and romantic attraction, and this was due to a classmate explaining it. It''s hard not to feel like they''re missing out, with their disinterest in sex and romance, things that are very important to most people. "No." Like most people their age, Sage learned about sex from classmates and television. It''s uncomfortable to talk about with parents, although Sage''s would have been happily forthcoming.


    Like most things, there''s a spectrum to asexuality. Some asexuals feel attraction very rarely, and others don''t experience it at all. Sage isn''t repulsed by sex, but they''re not excited about it either. If they loved someone who asked them to have sex, Sage would probably do it. But that will never happen, because Sage doesn''t love anybody as anything more than a friend or family member. It took a while to come to terms with this side of Sage''s identity. Time, and a lot of questions. Rio was always there to answer. Sometimes, identities change. Sometimes, we discover a part of ourselves we never knew existed, and explore them. People can be so hateful to those who are just trying to figure themselves out. Sage has been told by many people that once they meet the right person, their asexuality will be cured. It''s as if Sage is broken or confused, and much of the time, it feels as though this is true.


    "Acchan," says Sage, struggling to get words out. "When did you realize you were trans? Did you start your transition in India?" Sage doesn''t know much about their father''s life before he had children. Surya moved to the United States in the year 1991, when he was twenty one. As kids, we don''t really care about the lives of our parents. As Sage gets older, they become more interested in knowing about their parents'' lives and struggles before having children. Surya and Amani met in 1996, at a beach in Miami, and married in 2005, when same-sex marriage became legal in Massachusetts. Aside from this, Sage knows little about their relationship.


    Genetics work in strange ways. Sage has Surya''s complexion, but has the same curly hair that Amani had before shaving his head. Sage has come to love their afro, even if it''s been the cause of stress and bullying in the past. Rio once said if people are going to bully you anyway, you might as well give them something to talk about. It doesn''t mean the same coming from him. Rio has curly hair too, but it''s long and thick. He often puts it in cornrows or braids, wearing lungi to go out and do everyday tasks, and people get confused. He doesn''t look like Sage. When people see Sage and Rio together, they ask questions.


    "Well, I came out when I was nineteen." Surya was always a man, even when he was living as a woman. The frustrating thing about society is that it expects to know what parts a complete stranger has, so that it knows which gender stereotypes to place you under, and how to treat you. It''s kind of funny to confuse people who can''t tell how Sage was assigned at birth. "I was unable to transition safely in Kerala, so I came to America."


    "Why did you choose Florida?"


    Surya has to leave soon. Sage''s grandfather, who''s impatient, plans on visiting Anchorage today. Surya doesn''t always enjoy traveling with his father, but he has a responsibility. The man checks the clock. His husband opens the door of his office, letting out the client he''s just finished with. According to community reviews, Amani is a brilliant psychiatrist. He has many clients within the area, and some as far as forty miles out.


    Surya smiles at his husband, who comes to sit with him after his client leaves. "I enjoyed the opportunities it gave me for a career and to be myself." Sage''s parents love each other. They aren''t particularly affectionate in front of the children. It''d be nice to have the capacity to fall in love, but there''s more to life than romance. At least, Sage will never have a broken heart, and nothing will distract them from following their dreams.

 XII. Enemies Make The Best Lovers.

    When Ivo arrived in Alaska, he spoke seven languages, and none were English. He''s near-native fluent in German, which probably wouldn''t surprise many people. He knows French, Afrikaans, Limburgish, Flemish, West Frisian, and Dutch. He picked up multiple languages traveling around the area where he grew up. During the summers of his childhood, Ivo took the train around the Netherlands, and to other nearby countries. He could travel to parts of Germany in thirty minutes, and parts of Belgium in three hours. As a kid, Ivo was exposed to drugs more times than he could count, which was probably irresponsible of his father, but it''s likely Pim wouldn''t have given a shit if Ivo lived or died. Realistically, if he hadn''t been smart enough to learn how to take care of himself at a young age, he''d probably already be dead.


    Ivo doesn''t remember the first time he saw a needle. They were sort of just always there: scattered across the living room table, or Pim''s bedroom floor, rarely disposed of properly. As a stupid kid, he could have fucked around and gotten high. He never mourned his father. It''s still uncertain whether Pim''s overdose was accidental or not.


    Never trust a man in a uniform. They''re Lizard People. They''ll use you as bait to overpower us.


    When Pim was alive, he forbade Ivo from visiting medical clinics, even if he was very sick. Ivo was never sure why this was, and he never asked. He was rarely sick or injured enough to need a doctor, anyway.


    It''s the middle of the night, and it''s difficult to see. Ivo can''t see in the dark, even with his glasses. This is the downfall of working the night shift. Most nights, he carries a flashlight and a cane, but this makes him a target. The blind are assumed to be oblivious and incompetent, and Ivo has had many strangers try to mug him on the streets. While he looks like an easy target - a short, skinny man often walking alone - he''s stronger and faster than he looks. This often catches people off guard. He likes the way the streetlights look at night. Even blurry, the colors are bright and vivid. Blindness is a spectrum, and sighted people get on Ivo''s nerves. They all say dumb shit, like, "How many fingers am I holding up?" "I''m legally blind without my glasses, so I know how you feel!" and, "How can you see colors? I thought you were blind?"


    It gets old to explain the same things over and over. As a preteen, legal blindness was explained to him by the optometrist who labeled him as such. He''s exasperatedly corrected many people since then. If you can''t see well without glasses, but you can see fine with them, you''re not legally blind. Ivo has seen many eye doctors over his life, and they''ve all given him a different prescription. He''s not eligible for eye surgery, and he doesn''t trust it anyway.


    People take their sight for granted, and Ivo never had this luxury. "But you''re so pretty," people have said, as though this makes up for it. "You have the nicest porcelain skin. It looks so smooth. It looks almost translucent."


    It''s very hard for a person with normal vision to understand how Ivo sees. It''s hard for him to explain in a way that stupid people grasp the concept. "It''s like a dark cloud in front of my eyes." He explained it this way to Juno years ago, the way an optometrist had explained it to him. He can''t see anything in the distance, or to the sides of him, and everything else is blurry. Though he can make out shadows and outlines of things very close to him, everything kind of meshes together, and everything is very dark.


    Ivo has gotten a sunburn in the wintertime. He doesn''t tan, and peels very badly after too much sun exposure. Pim was the same way. When he was a child, he asked the man many questions about his mother. Hardly any ever got answered.


    As a youth, Ivo stole a lot of money from home. A benefit of having an absent father is that Ivo could get away with anything he wanted. He learned to be thrifty, as Pim didn''t make much money, and his paychecks never went far. Ivo is good at stealing. Most people don''t deserve their success. They take credit for the skills and success of others, and become selfish. Most people are selfish. Ivo is no different. The day he left his aunt and uncle''s home, he wandered for a long time, until he resorted to selling himself for money. It was summer, and he''d gotten badly burned. It''s hard to survive with no money, but unlike most people, Ivo has survival skills. He wears a seventy dollar watch, which audibly informs him of the time and date when he presses a button. He bought this himself, with money from Pim''s dresser. Despite his frequent law-breaking, Ivo has never been arrested. This is because he''s faster and smarter than most, and he''s had a lot of practice evading trouble. In school, he spent more time in detention than in class. Laws were made to be broken. The law only exists because some corrupt, old, white men said it did. Who decided the opinions of rich white men meant more than anyone else''s?


    Ivo was in Fairbanks when Juno found him. He hadn''t wanted to be found, and Juno couldn''t take no for an answer. It''s easier to be homeless in a big city, where there''s more opportunity to run into unfaithful middle-aged gay men. Some of the men Ivo met claimed to be straight, but his mouth around their cocks would say differently. After being fucked by enough people, it means nothing. He was exposed to pornography for the first time at the age of eight, after his father left a men''s sporting magazine in the bathroom. In Arnhem, he was never supervised. In Steele Creek, he was over-supervised. After coming to America, he was undocumented for two years before Anika helped him get a green card. According to the people he spoke to, he was ineligible to apply as a family member unless Anika adopted him. According to the will his father made before his death, she was his new legal guardian, and in the eyes of the law, he was her child. There were many confusing forms. Ivo can''t vote, or apply for insurance, or work for the government. If he gets arrested, he could be deported. It''s not like this matters. Ivo is smarter than people of authority, and he would go back home in an instant.


    Ivo broke his wrist in elementary school, first grade, after beating up a classmate, who had made fun of him. That was the first fight he''s had in his life. It definitely wasn''t the last. After this, he got a week suspension for arguing with a teacher. In primary school, probably about ten or eleven years old, he was suspended for a week after throwing a chair at a teacher. When he was confronted by the principal, all he had to do was fake a few tears and accuse the teacher of abusing him, and nobody dared misbelieve a crying child.


    Ivo can be cunning, when he wants. An adult shouldn''t deserve more respect just for being an adult. Nobody else sees it this way. Pim''s discipline style was always inconsistent. Ivo was meant to think for himself and stand up for himself, but he was often scolded for being disrespectful or unruly. Several times, teachers or principals tried to force him to speak to a guidance counselor, and he''d refuse. Ivo left Arnhem before he was old enough to study English in school, and arrived in Alaska knowing very little. Learning languages isn''t hard. Ivo doesn''t do things unless he''s interested in them.


    When Ivo was younger, he went to a dayhome after school. This was in about second, third grade, he remembers. There were other kids there, but he was the oldest, and so he was often left in charge. This is something he was used to. The dayhome center was run by two women, who were wives, and who treated the children very kindly. But they grew tired of Ivo''s constant troublemaking, and his defiance, and finally refused to keep taking care of him. This happened with everyone: babysitters, friends, teachers. They''d become overwhelmed and offended by him, and they''d decline to be around him. Pim, on several occasions, tried to take him to a therapist as a child, but he''d have a fit, and throw things across the room at him, and Pim would give up.


    From the time he was old enough to understand what sexuality was, he knew he was gay. He never spoke of sex or relationships with his father. He never spoke of much of anything at all with his father. When Ivo was suspended from school for the first time, he was around nine years old. Pim, who could never hold down a job, became quite good at hiding his drug use. Few people suspected the man was an addict - and those who did never spoke of it. In childhood, Ivo spent several stints on the streets when Pim''s addiction cost him jobs. When they were housed, they never stayed in the same place for very long.


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    "Ivo, come here."


    Pim was high. Of course, he always was. He looked at Ivo when he used, and nodded often during conversation. He''d gotten in trouble multiple times for drug possession, and somehow still managed to keep Ivo in his care until he died. Ivo always called his father by his first name. It was disrespectful, he was told, but this is what he was going for. "I''m busy, Pim. Leave me alone."


    "Where did you get this watch?"


    He''d stolen it from a kiosk at the mall a week earlier. Pim wasn''t there. He was never there. "I bought it." Most people are bad liars. You can tell by their eyes, and their tone. It''s not hard to weed out a liar. The secret to being good at it is manipulating the memories of other people. "I went to the store last week."


    Pim wasn''t blind. Despite this, he had eyes that rolled at random, and crossed often. When he wasn''t using heroin, he was sleeping or puking. "Don''t lie to me, Ivo. This watch has to be worth two hundred euros. You don''t have that kind of money."


    Even at ten years old, Ivo was smarter than his father. People think they know everything, but really they know next to nothing at all. "Yes I do. You gave it to me for my birthday, when you got your paycheck. You''d remember that if you weren''t high all the time." This wasn''t true. He''d gotten the money from the man, sure, but it hadn''t been a gift. Still, Pim had believed this so easily, it was almost stupid. If you know how to be convincing, people will believe anything.


    He could have called an ambulance after his father''s overdose. Instead, he sat next to the man and watched him die.


    There are shadows up ahead. It''s a group of people smoking weed, shouting and laughing, wanting the whole street to hear their bullshit. It used to be frightening to walk alone at night, but Ivo''s not a pussy anymore. He''s gotten jumped before, and always fights back. "It''s not worth it," Juno says every time he fights. "They''re just trying to get a rise out of you."


    Snow crunches underneath his feet. His glasses have fallen to the ground, and crack under the weight of heavy snow boots. Sometimes, Ivo considers going without glasses altogether. It''s not like they make much of a difference anyway. Glasses aren''t cheap, and Ivo hates spending money. He''s good in a fight. When his father had withdrawals and swung at him, he had to learn to be. There''s a car coming. It crunches on the snow, and, when it comes to a stop, the group of men run away.


    Ivo''s backpack has fallen open; he fumbles in the snow for its belongings. Someone always breaks up fights. This takes all the fun out of them.


    "What are you doing, Four-Eyes?"


    It''s after three in the morning. Ivo is nineteen years old, but it''s not like it matters. He doesn''t celebrate his birthdays; it''s just another day like any other. His watch speaks the time aloud every hour. He''s not far from home, and doesn''t have any desire to go home at the moment. It''s dreary. All Ciel does is talk about how death is scary. All Juno does is shout at him to shut up. He keeps walking, letting the snow crunch noisily under his feet. The car drives slowly beside him, irritating him. Conversation is a waste of time and an invasion of personal space.


    Rio smells like paprika. Ivo''s head hurts. "Don''t ignore me, Four-Eyes. You''re being stupid. How are you supposed to walk in the dark with no glasses?" Everyone underestimates Ivo. He has a flawless sense of direction and never gets lost, even if it''s his first trip to a destination


    Ivo mutters. "Suck a dick, motherfucker."


    "Stop."


    It''s chilly. There''s music playing in Rio''s car, and it''s obnoxious, like everything he does. He takes a hold of Ivo''s wrist and clutches it tightly, taking Ivo off guard, so that he stumbles. "Get in the car," demands Rio, his fingers digging into Ivo''s skin. He''s tall and muscular, and physically much stronger than Ivo, which means he could do whatever he wanted to him. The thought of this is rather exciting.


    "Or what? You''ll kidnap me?" Ivo has fantasies he''d never speak out loud, unless he wanted to be scolded. When he''s alone, he explores kinks and fetishes that others would judge him for. He''s never had a long-term relationship, and this is preferable to considering the needs and wants of others.


    Rio chuckles. "You''d like that, wouldn''t you? We both know you''re obsessed with me."


    Ivo doesn''t hate fucking Rio. He won''t admit this. "You''re the one stalking people on the street in the middle of the night." He yanks his arm; Rio digs his fingers tighter. "What the fuck do you want from me, dipshit?" Ivo wonders which part of his childhood made him the most bitter.


    "You know," Rio opens the door of his car, stepping out onto the sidewalk, "not that I give a fuck, but you really should go to the doctor. I''d hate for the giant stick up your ass to cause any damage."


    It''s snowing. Ivo needs an iced coffee. "Grow a brain, idiot." Usually, it''s easy to be left alone. People don''t like to be disrespected. But Rio is persistent, and this is aggravating. "Let go of my fucking arm."


    Something about feeling like the prey is thrilling to Ivo. Rio walks toward him, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Ivo, so that the boy is closed in. It feels poignant, and predatory. Ivo''s poor vision makes encounters unpredictable, which makes them exciting. Rio breathes on his face. "You could have walked away if you really wanted to - but you haven''t, which means you can''t hate me that much." He''s aggravating, and smug. Ivo can''t explain why he dislikes the man so much. Every relationship begins with hate. He could duck underneath Rio''s arms, too quickly to be stopped. "Get in the car."


    Ivo says nothing when Rio grabs him by the arm, throwing him into the back seat of the car. He could get up and leave, if he wanted to. He could push the bigger boy off of him. It''s warm in the car. "Go fuck yourself," he says, though his voice is unsteady. He''s pinned to the seat, overpowered, but not so much that he couldn''t get up if he wanted to.


    Rio is obsessed with him, and for no good reason. He growls in Ivo''s ear, easily flipping him over. "Fuck me yourself, whore." Rio always gives him a chance to say no. Sometimes, Ivo wishes he didn''t. To most people, it''s humiliating to be used and degraded. This is all Ivo is used to, and it''s preferable to vulnerability. Rio is a good fuck, and has beads and rings in his dick that seem to pull Ivo apart. It''s easy to be quiet, if you focus. Rio''s an arrogant asshole, and it isn''t Ivo''s first hate fuck. Once or twice, he groans or moans, but he always quickly controls himself. If Rio knows he''s enjoying himself, he''ll become even more vain. He''s aggressive and stern, and makes Ivo want to be disobedient. He cums on Ivo''s stomach, loudly, yanking his hair so that Ivo''s head jerks back. He''s a sex slave. This is all he''s good at.


    Rio doesn''t get off of him. His hands press uncomfortably into Ivo''s wrists, warm and dry. "Stop pretending to hate me, bitch. You''re just as attracted to me as everybody else."


    He''s aggravating, smug, and Ivo can''t stand it. But fucking him isn''t terrible, and sex means nothing. He squirms, spitting at Rio, the way he likes men to spit at him. "Fuck you."


    You can tell a lot about a person by the way they speak. Tone, speed, and pitch of voice say a lot about someone, and people don''t think about this. You can tell the expression on someone''s face by the way their voice sounds. Rio''s grinning, and breathing in Ivo''s face. What else could he possibly want? He should have gotten up by now. "Again? You can''t get enough of me, can you?" He''s got a tight grip, but there''s always an escape. It''s certainly unexpected when Rio kisses him, because it comes out of nowhere, and he''s so sure of himself. He isn''t gentle. He bites Ivo''s lips, hard, and it sends a shock through him.


    He punches Rio in the chest, hard. "What the fuck!"


    The other boy is still far closer than he should be. "Tell me the truth, Four-Eyes. Do you hate it when I kiss you?"


    The car is very old, and smells like the outdoors. Ivo is silent for a moment too long, letting his guard down in a way he probably shouldn''t. "No."


    "Yeah, I didn''t think you would." Rio touches Ivo''s cheek; his hand is cold. "You need to stop being so goddamn uptight all the time. Live a little." He breathes in Ivo''s face, and then gets up abruptly, starting the car without another acknowledgement. When he drives, he leaves Ivo feeling sticky, warm, and conflicted.

 XIII. DANCING ON GASOLINE!

    Juno can''t sleep. Some nights, she''s in too much pain. Some nights, despite being weak and weary, she just can''t seem to shut off her brain. Her bedroom is dark; she sleeps with quiet music playing. This helps distract her from the frightening thoughts that plague her at night. It''s always worse at night. These days, Juno doesn''t sleep at all. She''ll have lots of time for sleeping when she''s dead.


    Ciel says life is too short to hold grudges. Once in a while, Juno considers forgiving her sister. It should bother her to know that she''ll die without making up with Aspen. Aspen''s old enough to know what is appropriate to say and what isn''t. Aspen''s old enough to know that actions have consequences. Juno had an abortion when she was fifteen, after being taken advantage of by a boy she thought loved her. It''s hard to overcome betrayal. Juno refuses to die with bitterness. She was driven to a clinic by Ciel, who promised to take her secrets to his grave. Ciel babies her, but at one point, he was the only person Juno could trust. Everyone changes. Juno''s spent too much time pointing out the ways everyone else has changed. She''s not the same person she was a year ago.


    After finding out Juno''s biggest secret, Anika insisted she leave the house. This was Aspen''s hope all along; envy makes a person ugly, and Aspen missed being the center of attention. Her mother hadn''t given her a choice, from this point. She''d called Ciel that very night, and demanded he let Juno live with him. Anika is the type of woman to kick a child out of her home for acting in a way she disapproves of. Juno wonders when it''s Aspen''s turn.


    It''s the middle of the night. Juno stands in the middle of the little kitchen, stirring cookie dough in a glass bowl. Music plays from a Bluetooth speaker: not too loudly, as Ciel gets grumpy when he''s woken up. Juno''s tired of being sick, and of being pitied. People are afraid of death. Nobody ever thinks about their own. There''s a fresh bruise on Juno''s shin. Her balance is off sometimes, at the worst of times. She''s too tired to be awake, and too uncomfortable to sleep. A couple of months ago, she stopped going to treatments, because she''ll die anyway, and it feels unnecessary to delay the inevitable. When she was first diagnosed, she was petrified of death. Now, she''s kind of looking forward to a pleasant sleep.


    After placing her first batch of cookies in the oven, Juno seizes. Her seizures have become more frequent over the past weeks. Some days, it feels like a waste of effort to continue with treatment; Juno feels ill all the time, and it''s more fulfilling to live a short, comfortable life than a longer, uncomfortable one. Ivo arrives home from work early in the morning, but usually spends little time inside before retreating to his space in the shed. Juno hates asking for help. Nobody would help her, anyway.


    "You''re burning the food again."


    Sometimes, doing the right thing makes a person feel miserable. You have to respect family, but this doesn''t mean you always have to get along with them. "I have a nose, motherfucker. You don''t have to point out the obvious." Juno spends so much time around Ivo, she''s beginning to sound like him. She always burns things when she''s baking. It''d probably be smart for her to stop trying to bake at all.


    Ivo always wears a magnifying glass around his neck. He brushes past Juno to a cupboard, which he rummages through loudly, knocking things off of shelves. He won''t pick them up. "Look at that. You finally learned how to stand up for yourself. Too bad you''ll be dead before you get another chance."


    It''s wet and windy. Spring always comes later than it should.


    It took Juno a long time to come to terms with her illness. In the weeks immediately following her terminal diagnosis, she felt sorry for herself. Before falling ill, Juno was religious, like the rest of her family. The worst argument her mother ever had with Ivo involved religion. Some thoughts taste like poison in your head. Some of the worst poisons come in the form of people you love. When a person is used to mistreatment, they get into the habit of mistreating others. Juno knows this, but it''s hard to remember sometimes. You need to fight hate with love, Kida likes to say. Juno should be the bigger person, as they say. There are more satisfying things.


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    She removes the burnt cookies from the oven. Ivo looks for his talking timer, which he always puts in the same kitchen drawer. Sneaking her hand into the drawer, Juno takes the timer and places it atop the counter, out of Ivo''s reach. "You''re right," she says, and walks out of the kitchen.


    Like the rest of her siblings, Juno was born in Fairbanks. Her father, an American man, is much older than her mother. According to Anika, he was her university professor, but didn''t ask her out until after she''d graduated. This seemed strange to Juno at first. It still seems strange to all her friends. Anika is the second of three children, and she''s the only one of her siblings to have left her home country. She came to Alaska in 1992, after finishing secondary school. Juno still isn''t sure why. She doesn''t know much about her mother''s life in Arnhem. Once in a while, Anika will tell a story involving her siblings, and Juno will feel nostalgic for people she''ll never meet.


    Juno should be asleep. It''s early when Kida arrives to pick her up, and Juno''s eyes feel heavy. It''s hard to maintain a social life when you''re ill. She''s lost a lot of friends since her diagnosis, and that''s just how life works. Kida has been Juno''s friend since junior high, and she hasn''t grown tired of her yet. This seems strange. Kida is the kind of friend who would show up in the middle of the night if Juno asked her to. She arrives quickly, and parks beside the garage to wait for Juno.


    I don''t know why I keep trying to help people. I care about everyone else''s well-being, but nobody cares about mine.


    I know why. It''s because you see the good in everybody, even when it isn''t there.


    Kida is honest and pragmatic. If it weren''t for her, Juno would likely have no life left in her at all. "Thanks for picking me up so early." In the winter, Juno wears a hat to keep her head warm, and it makes her sweat. "I just need to get out of here for a while. Everyone''s driving me crazy."


    Kida wears sunscreen in the winter. She says, with the way the sun glistens on the snow, there''s still a chance of being burnt. "Yeah." She smiles crookedly, adjusting her visor. "They always do." Before leaving, Juno didn''t tell anyone she was going out. Everyone probably likes it better without her there, anyway. Juno is the only mature one in her entire family.


    She sighs. "Ciel''s been mad at me since I told him to stop babying me. Ivo''s a condescending dick who treats me like an idiot. I feel like I''m living with children." Juno wants to live alone, but no one would allow this. With all the food she burns attempting to cook, she''d probably starve to death.


    "Well, you know what they say." Kida shrugs, turning on some music for the drive. "Girls mature faster than boys." Kida lives alone, which Juno envies. On more than one occasion, she''s thought about moving in with her. It''s a relatively long drive to Kida''s house; it''s not a small city, and Kida lives quite far east. Long drives make Juno nauseous. So does just about everything else, too. "You can spend a couple days with me if you want. I know how annoying boys can be."


    Kida has two younger brothers. She hasn''t lived with them in years, but family''s always in your life, whether you like it or not. Juno knows this better than most. "I don''t have any overnight things." She''s not opposed to spending the night with Kida. Nobody knows how much lifetime Juno has left. There''s got to be more to it than rotting away at home. The girls met in seventh grade, when Kida introduced herself to Juno after a class they shared together. Juno was a quiet, introverted student. Kida befriended all the outcasts.


    "Hi there," Kida had said, approaching Juno at her locker. At the time, she had bright pink hair and an eyebrow piercing, which she''s since removed. "My name''s Kida. I think you''re in my history class. Do you understand what we''re learning?"


    How do you make friends as an introvert? I can''t figure it out.


    You don''t. You have to wait for an extrovert to adopt you as a friend.


    This is how Juno makes most of her friends. In junior high and high school, she had a close-knit group of friends. When she got sick, all of them left except Kida. "Oh, please. How many times have you slept at my house? You know I have extra pajamas and clothes."


    When Juno''s hair started to fall out from chemo, Kida shaved her own head in support, and Juno cried. "It''s just hair," Kida said, rubbing her hands over her prickly, bald head. "I can grow more, but I can''t get a new best friend." If it weren''t for Kida, Juno would die without being missed by anyone at all.

 XIV. Broer.

    It''s four o''clock in the morning, and it''s very dark. Doutzen''s head of school has given her mother permission to take her on holiday for no more than eight days, and she panics while packing her bags. It''s not an emergency trip. Marit would argue that it''s not really a necessary trip at all. Doutzen''s mother, who has no issue letting her daughter roam free, would have agreed to let Doutzen go to America alone for a week. Marit is much more easygoing than a lot of parents. Doutzen''s parents were more than happy to help arrange the trip. She has no idea what to expect.


    After leaving Verena''s house, Doutzen received a message containing the contact information of a teenager named Juno, who lives in Alaska. She''s spoken to the girl many times since then. It''s interesting to know that Doutzen''s biological family has roots in so many places. It''s strange to consider that other people have lives just as complex and confusing as Doutzen, even though to her, they''re only side characters. Before Beatrix brought this up the other day, Doutzen had never considered it.


    "I really hope you know what you''re doing."Doutzen didn''t get enough sleep. In less than an hour, she''s due to leave her house. Marit rummages through suitcases, anxious about the trip. "Remember, things don''t always turn out the way you want them to."


    It''s March. Doutzen wishes it was spring. "I know, Mama."


    There''s no proof showing the name of Doutzen''s biological parents - but with all the conversations she''s had with people, and information she''s learned about her genetics, it''s almost certain that she was born to a man called Pim. Doutzen knows nothing about the woman who gave birth to her. According to the family she''s spoken to, no one else does either.


    "Tell me more about Pim," Doutzen said to Juno, when they spoke on the phone. It was late at night in Alaska, and Juno was very tired. "Does he have any kids? Is he nice?"


    It''s so easy to envision someone in your head. Doutzen does it all the time. There''s no issue with this, until the way you''ve envisioned them turns out to be completely wrong. This is the most nerve-racking part for her. Doutzen could arrive in Alaska and find that her family is nowhere near the way she imagined them. She could arrive and find that nobody cares to meet her at all.


    "I never met him," Juno said, sounding apathetic. "But I have a cousin, Ivo, who''s Pim''s son. He lives with me."


    It''s a very long flight to Alaska, and Doutzen has to make several stops. When her plane departs from Amsterdam, she''ll land in Philadelphia, where she''ll need to spend the morning waiting for the next flight. From here, she''ll fly to Seattle, and then Fairbanks, where Juno will meet her. It seems like too much work. Maybe, all of the money and stress won''t end up being worth it at all. It''s like Marit says. You can''t expect anything to turn out if you never try. As a minor, Doutzen can''t take a connecting flight without a guardian, and she can''t rent a hotel room. She follows her mother closely through customs, clutching her suitcase tightly in her hand.


    Marit has no interest in meeting Doutzen''s family. She''s not obligated to come along. When Doutzen was eleven, she took a plane for the first time to visit family in the United Kingdom. Marit has a sister who lives in Cardiff, and rarely feels like driving the distance. It''s pretty there, and friendly. Doutzen could never imagine leaving her hometown.


    The flight from Amsterdam to Philadelphia is eight hours, and departs at eight. Doutzen isn''t a morning person. Marit, who works as a massage therapist, can choose her own schedule. During her first layover, Doutzen will have five hours to kill. When it comes to traveling, killing time is the worst part. The airplane is small and cramped. Doutzen has a message from a woman named Saakje, who''s just appeared on her ancestry website as either an aunt or grandmother. You''re not allowed phones on airplanes."I love you, Mama," says Doutzen, preparing for takeoff. "Thanks for coming with me."


    Philadelphia is much larger than Winschoten. It seems like Doutzen could get lost just trying to cross the street. She''s never been out of Europe, and feels overwhelmed with the changes. Juno, who said she''d check in with Doutzen thoroughly during the day, hasn''t been in contact all day. "I have a brother," Doutzen said, when she last spoke to her cousin, "I want to meet him."


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    Juno had laughed a little, surprising Doutzen. "No," she''d said, "you don''t."


    "Stop dawdling, Doutzen. I don''t want to spend hours getting through the airport."Marit isn''t an uptight woman, but she''s easily stressed, and Doutzen knows better than to interfere. She''d like to know what her mother is thinking: not just about their trip, but about everything. She''s hungry, but there will be lots of time later to explore the city. It''s eleven in the morning. Doutzen''s legs are sore. She''s very tall, but Marit is taller.


    "Sorry."


    Despite studying English in school, Doutzen knows little. When they arrive in Alaska, Marit will be taking herself to the hotel, letting Doutzen meet up with her later.


    Five years ago, Doutzen''s parents told her the truth about her birth. It''s a story that sounds like it should come out of a movie. During a weekend trip to Zwolle, Marit was startled to hear a noise that sounded like a newborn baby crying, coming from the inside of an alley dumpster. It''s hard for Doutzen to wrap her head around this. If Marit hadn''t come to investigate, Doutzen wouldn''t be alive. Her mother had taken her to the hospital, and subsequently adopted and taken her home.


    It''s eight o''clock in the morning in Alaska. It''s possible Juno is still asleep, and this is why she hasn''t checked in yet. In less than twenty four hours, Doutzen will know her biological brother. Before their next flight, Doutzen and Marit explore Philadelphia. There''s a lot to do. Doutzen could visit a museum, or meditate in a park, or see the zoo.


    The plane departs at quarter after four in the afternoon. Marit says this means they must return to the airport at three o''clock to ensure they make it on time. Marit is a punctual woman, and becomes impatient when her children take too long. Time zones make Doutzen feel confused. Traveling takes much longer than she''d anticipated, and it''s very late when she arrives. She has a message from someone named Aspen, who says she''s Juno''s sister, and tells Doutzen to be expecting her. Marit rents a car from the airline, unwilling and unfamiliar with public transportation. Outside baggage claim, a short blonde teenager waves in their direction.


    "Doutzen?"


    Alaska is much smaller than the Netherlands, and Doutzen knows little about it. Tired and crabby, Marit leaves for the hotel she''s booked for their trip. They''ve traveled nearly nineteen hours to be here. If the trip isn''t worth it, Doutzen will feel guilty. The teenager, who looks too young to drive, is accompanied by a man with bright pink hair and a scruffy beard, who doesn''t greet Doutzen. She can''t help but wonder if he''s her brother.


    "Aspen?"


    It''s dark outside. It''s nearly midnight, and Doutzen feels too energized to sleep. She longs to make conversation, and falls into step beside Aspen, who takes a long look at her. Perhaps, she''s trying to find similarities. "You look nothing like him."


    Native speakers always speak too quickly. She follows, rolling her large suitcase behind her, feeling very oddly comfortable around people she''s only just meeting. "Where is Juno?" Doutzen has never had a need for English before. It''s intimidating, being so far away from home.


    Aspen looks at the man, speaking to the floor rather slowly. "She couldn''t make it."


    Doutzen points. "Are you Ivo?"It''s rude to point. This is something she''s been told a hundred times. Sometimes, she gets excited and can''t really control herself. Stopping at a slim silver car, the man begins to toss Doutzen''s suitcases into the back seat, leaving enough space for her to sit. When she spoke to Juno, she was invited to her house.


    "No. I''m Ciel. You don''t want to meet Ivo, trust me."


    Doutzen doesn''t understand every word of what''s being said. Using surrounding words and context clues, she can figure out the basic meaning of most things.


    "Why?" She could fall asleep. Juno speaks Dutch. Since landing, she hasn''t heard a word of it.


    Aspen sighs. "Because he''s a dick."


    "A what?"


    It''s uncertain how much time it will take to arrive at Juno''s house. Hopefully, when Doutzen arrives, she''ll feel more at home. Ciel glances at Aspen before beginning to drive. "He''s not friendly." The last time Doutzen spoke to Juno, the girl mentioned she had a sister and a brother. Even on the other side of the world, Doutzen has family members she''s never heard of. Ivo can''t be as bad as everyone''s saying he is. Maybe he''s just awkward or shy, or a bit unfriendly. Doutzen can be that way too.


    Saakje, the woman who reached out to Doutzen earlier that day, is her maternal aunt. She lives in Toronto, and insists on speaking to Doutzen over video call. It all seems like too much, truthfully. For all of the years Doutzen has been alive, she''s been oblivious to so many things. Aspen says that she doesn''t live with her brother. Ciel says he doesn''t want strangers in his house. This is understandable, even though it''s disappointing. Tomorrow, Juno promised to take Doutzen out to a cafe, and to get to know each other. Maybe, by the time Doutzen flies home, she''ll have been allowed to see Juno''s house.

 XV. Stop Looking Up - The Moon Doesn鈥檛 Like to be Watched.

    Not too long ago, Rio was held in a clothing store after he was accused of shoplifting. It wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened, unfortunately; he¡¯d gone to leave after collecting a small bag of items, and the store-owner confronted him. ¡°Sir,¡± said the middle-aged woman, blonde and wearing too much jewelry. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?


    It was a different woman than the one who¡¯d cashed him out. She had a serious look about her, eyeing him up and down, old enough to be his mother. ¡°Well, I¡¯m finished here, so I¡¯m just leaving.¡± He thought this was self-explanatory ¨C but Rio¡¯s smart enough to know when he¡¯s being racially profiled. When he was out with his fathers, this sort of thing was even worse. More than once, his fathers had been followed in a store, or questioned at the doors of their own home, or forced to provide proof of their parentage.


    The woman¡¯s arms were crossed. It was fortunate for her that Rio knows how to keep his temper at bay. ¡°I saw you shoplifting a necklace before you left.¡± She hadn¡¯t seen shit, and she knew it. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to ask you to let me look through your backpack.¡±


    In situations like this, Rio used to call his father. Most times this didn¡¯t work anymore, because his fathers aren¡¯t white either. Once or twice he had called Sage, but Sage is shy and not very good during confrontations. He¡¯s taken to calling Eleanor, who¡¯s not only forward, but also knows the law quite well. He sighed. ¡°You didn¡¯t see me do anything. All I have in my backpack is schoolwork and an extra sweater.¡± He hadn¡¯t needed to explain this, but he¡¯s learned how best to handle a situation like this. ¡°Look,¡± he¡¯d said, and pulled his pockets out. ¡°I didn¡¯t steal anything. I¡¯m just trying to go home.¡±


    Several other employees had noticed, and some had gathered around. It always happens like this: employees believe their superiors, even without a hint of proof. Rio tried to continue walking, and the store-owner blocked his way. ¡°Sir, I need to check your bag.¡± He knew denying her this would make him seem guilty, even though he¡¯s never shoplifted a thing in his life. Everybody says innocent until proven guilty. But no one really means it. And so he¡¯d handed over his bag, reluctantly, for it to be searched. Many people watched, but not one stepped forward, which Rio had learned to expect. Unless you confront a person by name or gesture, nobody is willing to help.


    ¡°Can I go now?¡± Rio received his bag back; all of his school papers had been ruffled. ¡°Since I clearly didn¡¯t steal anything?¡±


    He remembers the police being called, at one point. He remembers the owner closing the store, locking the doors, and keeping Rio inside: this was degrading and humiliating. Rio knows he¡¯s not a criminal. Everyone else knows it, too, but they won¡¯t admit it. When he called Eleanor, she was on her way home from work, and turned around instantly to come to his rescue. Rio hates being rescued. He isn¡¯t a helpless child, and he isn¡¯t a shoplifter.


    Rio had his first gay experience at senior prom, which seems very clich¨¦. In high school, he still thought he was straight, and so did the rest of his family. Rio went to prom with a girl named Lucy, who was a junior, and ditched him halfway through the night. He was fine with this, though; he had a lot of friends in high school. After the dance, he¡¯d gone out to the home of one of his hockey teammates, and they¡¯d had some drinks, and Rio¡¯s teammate Ian had begun to flirt with him. He wasn¡¯t opposed to this. For a guy who thought he was straight, Rio sure found a lot of men hot. They¡¯d stayed out late that night, drinking and chatting, and discussing their plans for college. Rio always wanted to join the NHL. He still does. After hours of socializing, when it was very late, he¡¯d hooked up with Ian in the bathroom, and he enjoyed it. The event was sort of a turning point for Rio. His first year of college, he thrived in this, experimenting with men and women alike ¨C and maybe both at once. He supposes he has Ian to thank. It¡¯s sort of sad, actually; after all that, they don¡¯t even speak


    anymore.


    It¡¯s Ostara, the time of year when the Goddess, in her Maiden form, meets her reborn consort in the form of the God. It takes place in March, on the spring equinox, and this year, Rio can¡¯t make it home. Ostara is meant to be a time of cleaning, but Rio has always had trouble parting with items he doesn¡¯t use anymore. Ostara is a spring festival that honors Eostre, the goddess of dawn. Rio helps decorate the altar with flowers, candles, and seeds. As children, he and Cassia and Sage always painted eggs.


    For years after the accident, Rio had flashbacks of Cassia falling to the floor, and of Sage screaming in response. He¡¯s the oldest. He¡¯s supposed to keep everyone else safe. Today, Sage has their first public performance. Rio would have liked to attend for moral support, but in between hockey and academics, he doesn¡¯t have much time for visiting.


    Cassia¡¯s favorite food was blackberries. In the bathroom of his dorm, Rio places three washed blackberries into a small golden bowl: one of the few he uses for deity offerings. He likes to think the little girl hangs around; it gets cold in the presence of a deceased loved one, and Rio gets a feeling of being followed. ¡°Hi, Cassia,¡± he says, placing the bowl on the corner of his makeshift altar, lighting a candle to accompany it. ¡°Your favorite. Stay as long as you want.¡± She always does.


    Every morning, Rio meditates when he wakes up. This is something his father suggested he start doing years ago. Meditation helps with astral projection, and trauma healing. On the days when memories feel particularly overwhelming, he¡¯ll call his father on the phone. Many people don¡¯t have good families or loving parents. Rio is lucky to have both.


    When the hockey team enters the ice rink for the beginning of the game, a timid girl approaches; her friends stand behind her, giggling and hiding their mouths behind their hands. She¡¯s a first-year student. Rio can always pick a first-year student out of a crowd. ¡°Hi, Rio,¡± she says, giggling nervously, standing on her toes to look him in the face. ¡°My name¡¯s Lara. Uh-¡° she hesitates, earning a jab in the elbow from one of her fellow freshmen. ¡°I¡¯m in your science class.¡± He didn¡¯t know this. He doesn¡¯t pay much attention to younger students, unless they stand out to him. ¡°I¡¯m just wondering if you could help me study for the test? I¡¯m having a hard time understanding the material, and you seem to get it pretty well, so¡­.¡± She trails off, looking embarrassed, though there¡¯s nothing to be embarrassed about. She¡¯s cute, with large glasses and sloppy bangs. Rio isn¡¯t the school¡¯s best student, but he gets good grades - and people gravitate to him, because he¡¯s attractive and talented. It doesn¡¯t take a genius to see this.


    ¡°Yeah, why not? Sit with me next class.¡±  He winks; Lara¡¯s friends lapse into nervous giggles again. ¡°See you around,¡± he says to the girls, before bounding off onto the ice.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Sage used to get very annoyed about the amount of time it took Rio to get ready in the mornings. As a teenager, he straightened his hair regularly until his father suggested this was damaging it. While Sage''s hair is coiled and tight, Rio has thick, loose curls that need to be frequently moisturized. He used to hate this. It¡¯s not rare for a stranger to feel his or Sage''s hair in passing:  but Sage is passive and anxious, and Rio calls out bullshit. Being disliked used to make him uncomfortable. He befriends everyone, and used to fixate on people who don¡¯t like him. He isn¡¯t sure why this is. It¡¯s impossible to be liked by everybody - but Rio is an adaptable man, and he¡¯s approachable. His parents were sure to teach him, when he was young, how to handle rejection with grace. Rio isn¡¯t entitled to other people¡¯s affection or time. Sometimes, people pretend not to like you because they don¡¯t like themselves.


    Rio¡¯s hockey team almost always wins. He weaves up and down the ice with ease and easily tricks opponents into giving up the puck. In middle school, he played soccer. In Florida, he liked sandboarding and beach basketball. About a decade ago, a crocodile grabbed Sage by the foot at Florida Keys, pulling them under the water. The Keys are always filled with tourists, but no one ever notices a croc that sneaks up from the distance. Rio had been swimming with his siblings on a day they insisted on going alone. Adrenaline can accomplish impossible things. When the croc bobbed Sage up and down by the legs, Rio acted quickly, and still doesn¡¯t know how he managed. If you distract a croc long enough, you can potentially escape it. Poking the crocodile in the eye gave Sage enough time


    to pull their legs away, and for Rio to pull them back onto the sand.


    He¡¯s no stranger to crocodiles or alligators. Growing up in South Florida means learning how to recognize and outsmart them. Crocs and gators look a lot alike at first glance, and can be easily confused by people who don¡¯t know the difference. Crocodiles are much bigger, heavier, and aggressive. The crocodile that attacked Sage was easily thirteen feet long, and had to have weighed almost nine hundred pounds. Rio wasn¡¯t a very big kid. Despite this, he¡¯d somehow pulled himself up on top of the crocodile before pulling it off of Sage. Crocodiles are instigators. Alligators sneak up on you.


    Everybody tells Rio he has an accent. Until he left Florida, he never thought this.


    It¡¯s easy to win a hockey game, and rare for Rio to leave the rink without being swarmed. He doesn¡¯t mind this. It¡¯s common knowledge that he¡¯s the best player on the team. It¡¯s common for girls who¡¯ve watched a game to ask for his phone number, or get shy during conversation. It¡¯s midday. The fun thing about living on campus is there¡¯s always people around to spend time with in between classes.


    ¡°Why are you still pretending to hate me?¡±


    Ivo sits at a table in the foyer, looking at a textbook through a large magnifying glass. Rio¡¯s bored, and getting under people¡¯s skin can be fun. ¡°What did I ever do to you?¡± He¡¯s attracted to Ivo, for some reason. He¡¯s pretty. He dresses like Rio¡¯s grandfather. ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me, Four-Eyes. You like it when I fuck you, and you like it when I kiss you. I¡¯m not going to leave you alone until you get that giant stick out of your ass.¡±


    It¡¯s hard to come to terms with the fact that not everyone will like you. All through school, Rio was friends with everyone. Until university, he was never openly disliked. People may have disliked him, sure, but he never knew about it. Nobody exists to be liked, but Rio is good at it. Ivo looks through his metal magnifying glass, sarcastic and monotone. ¡°I¡¯m surprised more people don¡¯t hate you. You act obnoxious and conceited to cover up the fact that you¡¯re insecure about not being liked by every single person on the planet, and you think you¡¯re hot shit because you play on the


    hockey team.¡±


    ¡°Aw, Four-Eyes.¡± It¡¯s noisy. The foyer is always filled with students, no matter the time of day. ¡°That¡¯s what I like about you. You¡¯re always so blunt. You don¡¯t give a single shit if you hurt people¡¯s feelings.¡± Rio isn¡¯t insecure. He bugs Ivo because it¡¯s fun, and because he¡¯s bored. ¡°You know what your problem is? You sabotage every relationship because you¡¯re scared of abandonment, and you think that somehow, if you fuck up people¡¯s feelings before they can get close to you, you won¡¯t get hurt. But guess what, Ivo. You¡¯ll get hurt anyway. That¡¯s how life works.¡±


    It doesn¡¯t matter how hard you try to keep people in your life. If they want to leave, they will. Sometimes, people are just meant to teach you lessons.


    Rio¡¯s father is filled with motivational quotes. It became frustrating in Rio¡¯s teenage years, but he¡¯s grown to appreciate it. Amani has something to say in every situation. Rio has met a lot of his patients. Ivo stands. He¡¯s short, and very scrawny. Rio could toss him around easily. He fumbles to put his books inside a backpack, and then throws the backpack onto his back. It¡¯s nearly as big as he is. He always stands up straight.


    Feelings are so strange and unpredictable. People can be drawn to others in the most unusual ways. Rio has no idea what¡¯s gotten into him.


    ¡°Go out with me.¡±


    Later, there¡¯s a party in the dorm. There¡¯s usually a party on weekends. It¡¯s almost Rio¡¯s twenty-first birthday, and Devon¡¯s promised to take him out to a bar.


    Ivo stops, turning around, pushing his glasses up on his face with one finger. He does this a lot, even when they aren¡¯t falling. ¡°What?¡±


    Rio is out of his mind. He dates a lot, but life is far too short to commit. He doesn¡¯t really have a type. That¡¯s what everybody says. ¡°Go out with me, you fucking dick. Don¡¯t make me say it again.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m bored.¡± Boredom is a good reason to date someone,


    right? ¡°And because there¡¯s only one person in the world who will ever put up with your shit, and that¡¯s me.¡±


    He¡¯s a hard boy to convince. Everybody has a soft spot. ¡°What makes you think I want you to put up with my shit? I¡¯d rather shove a fork into my eyes than go out with you.¡± He¡¯s a liar. He deadpans everything he says.


    ¡°It comes with home cooked meals and free transportation.¡± Rio grins, although Ivo probably can¡¯t see this. ¡°And you can¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t want to be fucked every chance you get.¡±


    Ivo squints. ¡°Fine. Now fuck off, dipshit.¡± Adjusting the straps of his backpack, he begins to walk away, and disappears into a throng of students.

 XVI. thinking too much

    It¡¯s not the same without Juno. Aspen has a text from Ronnie, and a bouquet of flowers in her bedroom that he dropped off at the home. Ronnie tries hard to make Aspen¡¯s parents like him. Anika¡¯s a hypocrite who got together with a man older than her, but doesn¡¯t want her daughter to do the same. The last time Ronnie came to pick Aspen up for a date, her father caused a scene as though she¡¯s incapable of making her own decisions. He¡¯ll call Aspen things like young and naive, even though she¡¯s almost sixteen years old. Juno died two weeks ago. Aspen¡¯s parents are taking their grief out on her. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere with this guy,¡± Mark says, after probably being brainwashed by Anika. ¡°You are a child, and it¡¯s my job to protect you.¡±


    Parents are so annoying. If Aspen ever becomes a parent, she¡¯ll never make her kids as miserable as her parents make her.  ¡°I¡¯m not a baby! I can take care of myself!¡± The last time Aspen spoke to her sister, she apologized for her betrayal. Aspen isn¡¯t sure if she¡¯s sorry, but it makes her feel better. Aspen has a text. When she pulls her phone out of her pocket, her father snatches it out of her hands. ¡°You¡¯re acting like a baby: throwing a tantrum when you don¡¯t get your way, ignoring your mother and I instead of having difficult conversations. I was nineteen once, you know. I know how young boys think.¡±


    Her father plays this card a lot. He was young, like, a million years ago. ¡°You think you¡¯re so smart. You married your student. That¡¯s gross.¡± Aspen¡¯s father used to let her do whatever she wanted. Juno ruined everything. Aspen¡¯s mother has her cell phone, and she invades the privacy of her children all the time. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s yours, she¡¯ll say when Aspen points out the unfairness of it all, it¡¯s in my house.


    It¡¯s getting late. Aspen is supposed to have a bedtime, as all of Anika¡¯s children did when they lived at home. She¡¯s not a baby. Only babies have bedtimes. Her father frowns. ¡°You need to learn some respect. You can have your phone back in the morning. Go to bed, Aspen.¡±


    Early in the morning, Ronnie is picking her up, and they¡¯ll be spending the day at Denali National Park. She¡¯s never been here before, though she¡¯s wanted to visit for a while. Ronnie says a birthday is an excuse to do whatever you want - and it isn¡¯t a school day. Parents are stupid. Anika always puts Aspen¡¯s phone in the same place. Aspen met her boyfriend online, on an anonymous forum for chatting. He¡¯d reached out to her after she¡¯d made a post asking for help with bullying - she¡¯d confided in her parents, but they hadn¡¯t been much help. After speaking to Ronnie daily for nearly a month, Aspen met him in private. It was stupidly easy to fool her parents. Overprotective parents raise sneaky children. Aspen is the sneakiest of all.


    It¡¯s very early in the morning when Ronnie arrives. This is the only time Aspen can leave without being noticed, because her parents are in bed, and Anika doesn¡¯t trust her children. If she did, they wouldn¡¯t have to be so secretive. It¡¯s a two and a half hour drive. If Aspen¡¯s parents weren¡¯t so neurotic, she could leave the house during the day. In the middle of the night, Aspen feels agitated. If it weren¡¯t for Ronnie, she¡¯d stay out of nature after dark.


    ¡°My dad told me to break up with you.¡±


    Ronnie can be unpredictable. He keeps Aspen safe at night, and stands up to people who mistreat her -  but he picks fights, and he likes getting what he wants. In the back seat, he¡¯s got a case of beer. ¡°They¡¯re upset that I can take better care of you than they can.¡± He plays music when he drives. Aspen doesn¡¯t like his music, but she never says anything.


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    It¡¯s hard being a teenager. Everyone says Aspen is too young to have struggles, but she¡¯s not. It¡¯s not as if anyone would believe her if she talked about them. Once or twice, Aspen has thought about breaking up with Ronnie. She could never do this. He looks after her, and keeps her on her toes. With Ronnie, nobody ever knows what they¡¯re going to get.


    ¡°I had an idea of something we could do once we got to Denali.¡±


    Ronnie¡¯s got a joint in his mouth. ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s that?¡±


    It¡¯s not illegal for Aspen to date Ronnie. Though she¡¯s under the age of consent, the state has a close-in-age exemption, which means Aspen can have sex with anyone she dates, as long as they¡¯re less than four years older than her. Aspen and Ronnie are three years apart. It¡¯s like Ivo always says. Nothing is ever illegal if you don''t get caught.  Ronnie has a criminal record, but he¡¯s not a bad person, and people are more than their mistakes. This is something Juno said once, and it actually made sense. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve been dating over a year now, and I haven¡¯t let you have sex with me yet, so¡­¡± Aspen shrugs, twisting around in her seat to take a soda can from the back. ¡°I thought we could do that today.¡±


    Aspen doesn¡¯t travel much. She has a boring life: all she does is go to school and argue with her parents. Aspen might be the first one in her family not to be kicked out, and this is a weird thought. Ciel left at the age of seventeen, after he was found drunk by a police officer. He¡¯d gotten in a lot of trouble for this, and so had Aspen¡¯s parents, even though they¡¯d had nothing to do with it. Aspen was very young then, but she still remembers her mother shouting at Ciel in the hallway outside her room. After this, she didn¡¯t see him for a while. Before this, she spent a lot of time with him. He¡¯d been dating Maria at the time, and moved in with her shortly after high school graduation. Anika is forty three years old. Mark, who is old enough to be her father, is sixty seven.


    Ronnie blows smoke out the window. ¡°Fuck yeah.¡±


    It¡¯s the middle of the night when they arrive. Aspen¡¯s tired, but there will be time to nap once she and Ronnie set up their blanket. Though she hasn¡¯t done it many times, it¡¯s comforting to sleep next to him, and she always feels more rested. It¡¯s snowing. There¡¯s lots of room to set up the blankets. Denali is the highest mountain range in North America, with an elevation of twenty thousand feet. Aspen longs to climb it, but a trip takes two weeks, and there¡¯s no time for this now. Aspen isn¡¯t afraid of heights. Many people like to act recklessly and hurt or kill themselves.


    ¡°I wish we could go out during the day.¡±


    After finding a parking spot in the empty lot, Ronnie grabs a beer from the back seat. It¡¯s likely he¡¯ll bring the whole flat to the mountaintop. Ronnie likes to drink, and he always tries to persuade Aspen to join him. ¡°I know.¡± She holds his hand as they walk; it¡¯s dark and cold, and there are few lights. During the day, there are always tourists here. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. My stupid parents barely let me leave the house anymore.¡± The last time Aspen¡¯s father saw her with Ronnie, he shouted at her, and said she was forbidden from leaving the house alone again. This was stupid and unfair. All Aspen¡¯s parents dream of doing is ruining her life. ¡°We can¡¯t trust you,¡± her father had said, ¡°so you¡¯ve lost the privilege of going out alone.¡± It¡¯s all Juno¡¯s fault, really. If she hadn¡¯t gotten sick, Aspen¡¯s relationship with her father would never have changed, and he¡¯d still let her do whatever she wanted.


    Ronnie is quite a bit taller than her. He¡¯s a skinny man, but he¡¯s assertive, and he can become unruly when he drinks. He always drinks too much. ¡°Tell them to fuck off. You¡¯re your own person. You don¡¯t need them to make decisions for you anymore.¡±


    It¡¯s not fair being a teenager. According to Aspen¡¯s parents, she¡¯s too young to live on her own, and too old to use the excuse of not knowing something. They expect her to know everything, despite never teaching her things that are important. It seems like all adults care about is being obeyed without question, even though half of their requests don¡¯t make sense. Aspen could ask for clarification, or point out a flaw in her parents¡¯ statement, and get scolded for her disrespect. Parents can talk as rudely as they want to their kids, and nobody says anything.


    ¡°My mom keeps saying maybe I should move out if I can¡¯t respect the rules. But I don¡¯t know where I¡¯d go.¡±


    When she was younger, Aspen adored spending time with her brother. They had little in common, but most kids just want to be like their older siblings, and Aspen was no different. She never cared much for Juno. Perhaps they were too alike. Perhaps Juno was just too boring.


    They trudge through the snow. Ronnie carries beer in one hand, and tugs Aspen by the arm. ¡°Just move in with me, then. Your parents are dipshits, anyway.¡± It¡¯s true - but Aspen doesn¡¯t like when Ronnie speaks about her family this way, even though she speaks badly of them all the time.


    He¡¯s almost through his first can. ¡°Maybe.¡± In a few years, Aspen will be a mother. This is her hope, anyway. She¡¯s been told she¡¯s far too immature to be a parent. Some people become parents without developing any maturity at all. Ronnie will get a better job, he says, so that Aspen can be a stay-at-home mother. This sounds unappealing to most of the friends she brings it up to. Taking care of children has to be much easier than getting a job. All you have to do is make your kids intimidated, so they¡¯ll do whatever they¡¯re told.


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    ¡°We¡¯re not the only ones here.¡±


    Ronnie points. At the bottom of Mount Eldridge, a group of climbers prepare to make their ascent. If you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing, Denali National Park can be a dangerous place. The weather is unpredictable, and tourists are reckless. Eldridge Glacier is thirty miles long, overlooked by the mountain of the same name, and unsafe to climb alone. Ronnie has mountain climbed before. Aspen has never had an opportunity. She likely doesn¡¯t have the stamina or strength for mountaineering. Ronnie trudges through the snow, drinking and chatting. Aspen stays close, feeling out of place. It was her idea to come here. It seems like it was a better idea in theory than in real life.


    It¡¯s cold. Even in layers, Aspen shivers.


    There¡¯s no time for climbing tonight. Below the glacier, Ronnie sets out several thick blankets and pillows before lying down, pulling Aspen on top of him. This makes her feel warm, and safe. ¡°Thank you,¡± she says, and nuzzles her face into Ronnie. He has a smooth face. Sometimes, he says things that make Aspen feel frightened, but it¡¯s always for the best. She¡¯s never had a boyfriend before. It¡¯s hard to stand up for herself sometimes.


    He kisses her cheek, which is cold and pink. ¡°I still don¡¯t know why you didn¡¯t just come over. We would have saved so much time not having to drive out here.¡± He¡¯s right. Next time, she¡¯ll be smarter. When Aspen first became interested in dating, her parents always told her never to meet up with someone alone. It¡¯s dangerous in the world for girls, said her father. If a boy refuses to meet up in a public place, he¡¯s probably not someone worth trusting. When she met with Ronnie for the first time, she insisted it be in a mall.


    He¡¯s a little drunk, and holds onto her roughly, and a little too tightly. ¡°You said we could have sex.¡±  Juno used to say all boys were the same. Anika likes to say that boys will pretend to like you, just so you¡¯ll sleep with them. It can¡¯t be all boys, though. Ronnie has told Aspen he loves her. It¡¯s not a thing someone says unless they mean it. ¡°You¡¯re pretty.¡±


    She¡¯s not that pretty. It¡¯s lightly snowing, coating her hair and jacket, and the blankets they lie on. It isn¡¯t cold snow. If Aspen ever goes Outside, she¡¯ll probably miss it here. ¡°I am?¡±


    It¡¯s hard to talk to a drunk man. Aside from Ronnie and her brother, Aspen has never seen one before. He presses down on her: kissing her mouth and cheeks, so that her chest feels tight and nervous. It always feels this way before a kiss. When Aspen turned fifteen, she had to make a vow to her parents that she¡¯d never sleep with a boy she wasn¡¯t married to. The concept of sex is a complicated one, and Aspen often feels confused about it. Her mother insists she never slept with a man until her wedding night - which is a gross piece of knowledge Aspen doesn¡¯t need, and one that makes her feel guilty about feeling conflicted. Everyone says differently.


    Sex is just for people who love each other, said Juno. It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re married.


    People just have sex for fun, said Ivo. It¡¯s got nothing to do with love at all.


    ¡°I love you,¡± says Ronnie, into the side of Aspen¡¯s mouth. His hands are cold and dry, and he smells like beer. Aspen rubs against him without really thinking. She would do whatever he wanted. Ciel says she needs to learn how to stand up for herself. ¡°Never let anyone pressure you into doing something you don¡¯t want to do,¡± Anika told all her children, when they became old enough to be influenced by peer pressure. ¡°Sometimes, trying something even once is dangerous.¡±  Everybody says this. But what happens if you¡¯ve already agreed to try something, and then decide you no longer want to?


    Ronnie can¡¯t tell that Aspen is uncomfortable. Or maybe he can, and just isn¡¯t worried. If you say you¡¯re going to do something, you have to keep your word, right? If you don¡¯t keep your word, people will think you can¡¯t be trusted, and nobody wants to be seen as untrustworthy. Sometimes, Aspen gets ahead of herself, and she agrees to plans without thinking them through. This has gotten her into more than one sticky situation.


    ¡°Ronnie,¡± she says, wrapping her arms around him. There¡¯s a blanket over top of them, keeping Aspen warm. Her chest thumps painfully. She¡¯s never been this close to another person. His hand is up her shirt, touching her chest. Aspen started puberty at the age of eleven, and she already had a bigger chest than all of her classmates in fifth grade. Middle schoolers are mean. Kids love to tease one another over things that are out of their control. When Aspen got older, she became a bully toward younger students, like older students had been toward her. Juno, who was a late bloomer, didn¡¯t start wearing bras until she was fourteen. Aspen had boys snapping her bra straps in fifth grade.


    There¡¯s a strange feeling in Aspen¡¯s stomach. It¡¯s kind of like a tingling. Surely, it has to be okay to change your mind, right? It can¡¯t be that bad. Ronnie¡¯s her boyfriend. He¡¯d never let anything bad happen to her.


    ¡°Ronnie,¡± she says again, turning her face, so that he no longer kisses it. ¡°I don¡¯t really know if I want to do it anymore.¡± Some people find it extraordinarily difficult to speak their minds. Aspen was never really one of these people. She feels anxious sometimes, like most people. Nervousness doesn¡¯t really get in the way of her everyday life. She has a strange relationship with religion, and with her mother. Anika does many things Aspen admires, and many more that she finds questionable.


    The man grins, pulling her face back by the chin. ¡°You¡¯re funny.¡±


    How do you reject someone you¡¯re afraid of? Who dates somebody they¡¯re afraid of? It wasn¡¯t always like this. When Ronnie and Aspen first met, he was doting and complimentary, showering her daily with kind words and gifts. He says Aspen is the only one who knows all his secrets, and that he trusts her more than anyone. When they were still getting to know each other, he¡¯d send flowers and love notes, and speak to Aspen every day, and make her feel important. No one ever made her feel important. It feels like people can change overnight.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. I¡¯m not ready.¡±


    The snow has stopped, but the wind has picked up. Aspen wants to go home. There¡¯s a lantern sitting in the snow beside the blankets, shining brightly on Ronnie¡¯s face. He still holds Aspen tightly, and doesn¡¯t remove his hand from her shirt. ¡°You can¡¯t just turn a guy on and not follow through.¡± He¡¯s probably right about this. People should keep their words. She should keep her word. She can¡¯t bear to be looked at badly, if anyone ever finds out.


    She frowns, wriggling uncomfortably under Ronnie¡¯s tight grip.  ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±  In a few years, she¡¯ll be eighteen, and they can get married. When Ronnie is her husband, she¡¯ll be able to sleep with him as often as she likes. It¡¯s immoral. It¡¯s uncomfortable to think about. ¡°Can you let go of me a little? I¡¯m a little squished.¡±


    Tourists laugh in the distance. It¡¯s been a few hours, and it¡¯s nearly time for the sun to come up. When Aspen wiggles, Ronnie¡¯s fingers dig into her hands. ¡°Stop being a bitch.¡± When he¡¯s angry, even his voice sounds different. When he¡¯s disappointed, Aspen can always tell. ¡°Stop squirming around.¡± He¡¯s not a man that gives up easily. Aspen never really learned the specifics around his arrests.


    Ronnie shoves a hand down her pants, holding her under the chin, pressing her into the ground. It¡¯s frightening to feel overpowered. There¡¯s no reason why anyone should like it. ¡°What are you doing?¡± It¡¯s important to sound stern, but Aspen¡¯s voice shakes when she attempts. She¡¯s not a baby. At this moment, she feels helpless and worthless.  There are many people you¡¯re supposed to trust, and many people you¡¯re not. People you trust are not supposed to turn against you.


    He¡¯s humorless. ¡°You already agreed. You made me drive you all the way out here. You owe me. Stop squirming.¡± It¡¯s all she can do. She¡¯s not strong or sneaky. He¡¯s rough, tugging at the band of her sweatpants, yanking them down to her thighs.


    Ciel¡¯s not a protective brother. He¡¯s given Aspen one piece of very helpful advice. If a guy is ever harassing you and won¡¯t take no for an answer, kick him in the balls as hard as you can.


    She struggles to pull a leg free. It feels heavy and clumsy, like most of her body. ¡°Stop!¡± Yelling can be helpful, if anyone hears you. There¡¯s no one here. Yanking her leg from underneath Ronnie¡¯s, Aspen aims for the groin, and he tumbles off of her and into the snow.


    Speed is crucial. Leaving Ronnie keeled over in the snow, Aspen runs - but he¡¯s a man with quick reflexes, and grabs her by the legs, so that she loses her balance. ¡°You fucking bitch, Aspen. Get back here.¡±


    Ronnie is a stranger. Aspen¡¯s known him for more than a year, and he¡¯s been a stranger all along. Without him, she has no way home. If she¡¯s not home by morning, her parents will kill her. ¡°Get off me!¡± She swings, again, but Ronnie¡¯s fast, and he isn¡¯t new to fighting. When Aspen regains her balance, his knuckles connect with her eye.


    This is why you don¡¯t know the computer password. You can¡¯t do what you¡¯re told, and insist on talking to strangers online. You¡¯re a child. We know better than you do.


    ¡°You punched me.¡±


    Aspen sinks into the snow on her knees. Her face throbs, and the park sways. Kneeling in the snow beside her, Ronnie wraps both arms around her. As fast as a light switch flicking, he¡¯s the affectionate man she loves. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, duck. I didn¡¯t mean to. I love you.¡±


    It hurts. Being left all alone would probably hurt more. She¡¯s never been hit before. Ronnie is not an aggressive man: at least, not when Aspen¡¯s around. ¡°I should have listened. I¡¯ll do what you say next time.¡±  When Aspen lies her heavy head on Ronnie¡¯s warm shoulder, he plays with her hair.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He stands, helping Aspen to her feet before kissing her swollen eye. ¡°Let¡¯s get you home before your parents realize you¡¯re gone.¡± She¡¯s got a headache, and can¡¯t see straight - Ronnie guides her.

 XVII. I Took The Stars From Our Eyes And Then I Made A Map

    Early in the morning, the screen of Doutzen¡¯s laptop flashes as the call connects. Her mother sleeps soundly in their hotel room, which isn¡¯t nearly as nice as Doutzen had hoped it would be. She sits on the toilet, so as not to disturb her mother, as Marit finds it difficult to sleep in places away from home. Since arriving, she¡¯s phoned home every night to speak to Doutzen¡¯s father before bed. It¡¯s guilt-inducing. Marit would walk through fire for her children.


    Saakje is a brunette woman with large glasses. It¡¯s Doutzen¡¯s first time speaking to her after the brief conversation they''ve had online. It feels like something to be ashamed of: reaching out to family in the middle of the night, without her mother¡¯s knowledge. Saakje is a busy woman. She has little time to speak.


    ¡°Good morning, Doutzen. My name is Saskia. I think I have some information about your biological family that you¡¯d be interested in.¡±


    She¡¯s a formal woman, and speaks very clearly. Doutzen worries her mother will hear her. Saakje sits in an office; she works from home. ¡°I think so too.¡± It¡¯s weird that a stranger can know so much about Doutzen. It¡¯s weird that a stranger can know more about her than she knows about herself. ¡°Do you know my biological mother?¡±


    Since arriving in Alaska, Doutzen has tried to get in contact with her brother. Anyone should be excited to meet relatives they didn¡¯t know existed. Doutzen knows nothing about her brother, except that she has one. Saskia nods. ¡°My sister, Lina.¡±


    It¡¯s rather strange to discover a whole life you didn¡¯t know about. It¡¯s weird to think of people as three-dimensional, complex beings with their own lives and histories, rather than just side characters in your own life. ¡°Why did she give me up?¡± Doutzen has so many questions, and sometimes they all come tumbling out at once. Her mother often says she needs to take a breath and pace herself. There¡¯s only a certain amount of time to get things done. ¡°She didn¡¯t want me?¡±


    Finding biological family members means learning things about people that aren¡¯t pleasant to know. No one abandons a baby because they want to. No one has ever reached out to Doutzen about her parentage. Saskia has her mouth pursed tightly, looking rather pained. Doutzen¡¯s biological parents might be horribly immoral people. ¡°Of course she wanted you.¡± It¡¯s quiet. There¡¯s no way of knowing why other people do the things they do. ¡°You have to understand something about my sister.¡± There¡¯s a clock on the wall behind Saakje. The time difference between them is much less extreme here. ¡°She wasn¡¯t right in the head. She thought abandonment was the only way to keep you safe.¡±


    Doutzen blinks. ¡°Safe from what?¡±


    Saakje sighs. ¡°From Lina.¡±


    Doutzen doesn¡¯t have mental health issues. She wonders about her father. It takes a moment for Saakje¡¯s words to make sense. There¡¯s static in Doutzen¡¯s head: words which swim back and forth, buzzing together into loudness. It¡¯s hard to explain what it feels like when her head gets noisy. ¡°Is my biological father¡¯s name Pim? Why didn¡¯t he raise me?¡±


    There¡¯s something intimidating about learning everything at once. Doutzen has known about her adoption for a while. There¡¯s always new information that pops up unexpectedly. Saakje checks the time, responding to Doutzen distractedly. ¡°Pim never knew about you. Nobody knew Lina was pregnant, aside from me.¡± Saakje is a forthcoming woman, which Doutzen appreciates. There¡¯s a question she can¡¯t bear to ask. Some things are better left unknown. ¡°I¡¯m almost out of time. Is there anything else you¡¯d like to know today?¡±


    Doutzen can¡¯t tell if Saakje is fed up with her. She¡¯s stoic and straightforward, but not unfriendly. Doutzen is cold and tired, and pulls her laptop higher up on her lap. ¡°Does Lina have any other kids?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Saakje shakes her head. ¡°Just you.¡±


    Marit enjoys sleeping in. Doutzen¡¯s plan for the day is to meet up with Aspen, and to get to know the city a little. She arrived half a week ago, and has had barely any chance to see it. She¡¯s tried to get in contact with Ivo, but he doesn¡¯t use social media, and he has no cell phone. This is very strange for a teenager. Aspen speaks about him sometimes, and it¡¯s never very fondly. ¡°It¡¯s probably good you¡¯re adopted,¡± she said once, ¡°If you were raised with Ivo, you¡¯d probably be a trash human too.¡± It¡¯s interesting how two people, raised in the same environment, experiencing the same exact things, can grow up to be so different. Maybe it¡¯s not that interesting. Even if identical twins spent their whole lives together, they still wouldn¡¯t be exactly the same.


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    Doutzen doesn¡¯t know Ivo¡¯s school schedule, but she knows he goes to school. It works differently in America. A few blocks from her hotel, there¡¯s a public bus stop. Last night, when her mother was asleep, Doutzen researched the bus fares in Fairbanks, knowing her mother would be unwilling to drive her around. After arriving in the country, Doutzen converted all her bank notes into American money, and now she¡¯s got more than she used to. It¡¯s a dollar fifty to ride the bus, and three dollars for a day pass. It¡¯s six thirty in the morning. If she spends all day killing time at the university, she¡¯s bound to find her brother.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± she says to the bus driver, and takes a seat at the back.


    It¡¯s strange spending so much time in a foreign country. Doutzen speaks too little English to hold a conversation, and can¡¯t read most of the words she sees. Maybe it would have been smart to study a bit before traveling. Every time Doutzen uses public transportation, she listens to her favorite music. Two years ago, Doutzen went to her first concert. Music is about the rhythm. Doutzen can enjoy just about anything with a good beat.


    University of Fairbanks is much larger than Doutzen¡¯s school. This early in the day, there aren¡¯t many people in the hallways. She has a text from her mother. Marit never worries when Doutzen goes out alone. Finding a seat at a table in a hallway, Doutzen opens the novel she¡¯s brought along.


    Her biological father doesn¡¯t know of her existence. She wonders what he¡¯s like, and feels a little like she missed out on knowing him. There¡¯s nothing to complain about. Doutzen is blessed with loving parents, and a generally good life. Sometimes, she can¡¯t help but wonder how her life could have been different. It can¡¯t be that hard to find Ivo. From what Doutzen has heard, he looks like his father, and he keeps to himself.


    When the building gets busy, Doutzen speaks to strangers using a translation app. There¡¯s so much she wishes to know. University students are loud and rowdy. Most haven¡¯t heard of Ivo. Some tell Doutzen to stop wasting her time.


    In childhood, Doutzen pretended to be the twin sister of her cousin, Roos, with whom she¡¯s close in age. The girls used to look quite similar, and they lived near one another. Marit¡¯s mother, who played along, bought the girls matching outfits for every holiday, and put their hair in braids on days they spent together. Roos is two years older. Doutzen always wanted to be like her. Years ago, Roos had a brief dream of being an actress, and insisted she¡¯d move to London someday to attend school. Doutzen, who couldn¡¯t bear to be so far away from Roos, insisted on coming along. This never happened. Children have silly, unrealistic ideas of life.


    Every school has its popular kids: even universities. Doutzen was never one of these kids. Well into the afternoon, a large group of students talks loudly outside a gymnasium, causing a disruption. They¡¯re a team of some sort: all wearing blue and yellow jerseys, some lugging large duffel bags. They¡¯re loud. The loudest of all is a man with braided hair, who can be heard from across the hallway. Athletes are popular. Popular people tend to know even the most introverted students. Doutzen was never very introverted. She likes her alone time, but also loves going out and spending time with friends.


    Shutting her book, she stands to follow the sports team down the hallway. There¡¯s about twenty of them. ¡°Hello!¡±She can be loud when she wants to. Her mother always says she needs to work on her volume control. Several of the guys turn, while most don¡¯t acknowledge Doutzen. She isn¡¯t discouraged by this. ¡°I¡¯m looking for my brother, Ivo!¡± It¡¯s likely that none of them can even understand her. She wears a backpack over one shoulder, following closely behind the athletes, who all seem to be in a hurry. She¡¯s spoken to many people today, and nobody understood her without a translation.


    It¡¯s pretty easy to tell whether or not someone is friendly. While most of the boys keep walking, a couple stop to acknowledge Doutzen. A brown-haired boy near the back of the pack says something she can¡¯t quite understand, and then waits while she types, finding this easier than trying to communicate verbally.¡°My name is Doutzen. I¡¯m adopted, and I just found out that I have biological family living here in Alaska. Do any of you know a boy named Ivo?¡± She doesn¡¯t know his last name. He¡¯s hard to find. He might not even know she exists. She thrusts her phone out, dropping it in the hand of the brown-haired boy. The guys look at one another. The man with braids shakes his head, saying nothing to Doutzen. When he places her phone back in her hand, there¡¯s a shock in her fingers.

 XVIII. Cottonmouth.

    Summer is coming, and Rio has a home game. As a student athlete, he¡¯s often up very early in the mornings for training, or for early morning games. It¡¯s hard to keep friends with such a busy schedule, but this doesn¡¯t matter much, because Rio makes friends everywhere he goes. Half the time, all he has to do is step into a room, and everyone insists on speaking to him. Although classes are over, Rio still participates in activities put on by the university, and he still has hockey games.


    This morning, he saw Enki in the hallway, and neither spoke to the other. It¡¯s early in the morning. It¡¯s sunny, but it doesn¡¯t feel like home. It never has. Early morning practices are a pain in the ass. Before bed, Rio enjoys a good workout. Last week, he took Ivo to a museum after work. It was hard to tell whether he enjoyed this or not - and Ivo seems determined to drive Rio away with hostility. He knows almost nothing about Ivo¡¯s past. Once or twice, he¡¯s asked a question. Nothing ever comes of it.


    At Cassia¡¯s memorial, little was spoken of her death. It was known by most that there had been a home invasion, but the specifics were never revealed to extended family and friends. Rio isn¡¯t sure how he would explain it, if he was asked. He isn¡¯t sure he¡¯ll ever stop blaming himself. Cassia always wore dresses, even during rainy season, and loved to color with crayons and help make meals. Often, Rio wonders what the little girl would have been like. If she were still alive, she¡¯d be fourteen years old, and maybe she¡¯d love fishing, or dancing, or playing an instrument. On the day of the incident, the last thing Rio had done with Cassia was yell at her.


    It¡¯s sixty eight degrees. Rio refuses to wear sunscreen, because he never burns, and hates the sticky feeling. Even though his fathers told him in childhood the dangers of going without sunscreen, he can¡¯t be all that bothered.


    When he was twelve, Rio learned how to braid hair. It took him quite long to master cornrows: but they last him a month, and aren¡¯t hard to maintain when he¡¯s got a busy schedule. Late last night, he spent almost four hours braiding and beading his hair.


    A good workout is always so energizing. It leaves Rio feeling refreshed and energetic ,even early in the morning. He has plans with Ivo today, which feels strange, but he already told him he¡¯d show up to his house at random times. Public transportation takes a long time. It¡¯s hard to make plans with someone who refuses to use technology or social media.


    Rio bangs on the door of the shed Ivo uses as a bedroom. Most of the things Ivo does make no sense. Rio¡¯s relationship with him is exciting and unexpected, and keeps him unprepared.


    ¡°Four-Eyes!¡± He knocks loudly and repeatedly, giving Ivo no choice but to open the door. He almost always wears suspenders, and acts as though everything is a huge inconvenience to him. Everybody has their defense mechanisms.


    Ivo lives in his cousin¡¯s home, but there are no vehicles parked outside. Music plays inside the shed: the kind of music Rio¡¯s grandfather would listen to. It stops; Ivo opens the door, scowling. ¡°What, dipshit?¡±


    When the sun comes out, Ivo bundles up underneath hats, sweaters, and sunglasses. Bright lights hurt his eyes, he says. ¡°Come over.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    Ivo argues with everything Rio says. He¡¯s like a defiant teenager, doing the exact opposite of what he¡¯s told. It¡¯s easy to get under his skin. Rio knows what sort of things will get a reaction. ¡°Come on.¡± He steps closer, placing his hands on the shed wall on either side of Ivo, knowing he loves feeling like prey. Rio speaks close to Ivo¡¯s face, letting his mouth brush against the boy¡¯s ear. ¡°You know you want me to pin you down until you¡¯re wriggling under my hands. You want that, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Most people are easy to read. It¡¯s almost impossible to read Ivo. He shivers. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Rio drives a pink Ford Roadster. He received the car on his sixteenth birthday from his grandfather, who sells vintage vehicles, and he enjoys the speed, and the attention. ¡°Why do you dress like that, anyway? You look like a ninety year old man. I think my grandpa has extra suspenders if you ever run out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whatever.¡± Rio has parked down the street, and finds his car easily. When he and Ivo get in, the boy throws his feet up onto the dash. ¡°At least I don¡¯t dress like a douchebag.¡± He wears sunglasses, which are round and silver, and don¡¯t suit his face. ¡°Isn¡¯t your dorm a fucking mess, Rio?¡±


    How can someone so young be so old? Ivo has the personality of an eighty year old man, and he dresses the part. When people say you¡¯re an old soul, they mean you¡¯re a loner, and they don¡¯t want to deal with you being withdrawn. Maybe he¡¯s been reincarnated too many times, he¡¯s become stuck in the ways of the past. Rio wonders if the boy believes in an afterlife, or any sort of spirituality at all. This is something that can be discussed later.


    His dorm is not that bad. Sure, it¡¯s cluttered, but it could be much messier. ¡°Some of us own more than three things, asshole.¡± He pauses, thinks through his next words for a few moments before saying them. ¡°Come on a trip with me.¡±


    The sun is bright. Ivo puts his visor down. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Anchorage.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Rio shrugs. ¡°Why not? It¡¯s almost my birthday, and I¡¯m bored.¡±


    A moment passes. Ivo pushes his glasses up to look at Rio suspiciously, and then he lowers them. ¡°Fine.¡±


    The boy is so hard to impress. Rio hasn¡¯t known him that long, and he¡¯s already aware of this fact. He drives the rest of the way to the college in silence, and claims his parking spot. Rio hates paying for parking. Even with a student pass, it isn¡¯t free. ¡°So, my house is over here¡­¡± He enjoys having his own space. The dorm has large windows, but they also have blinds. This comes in handy when Rio brings people home to have a good time with. His father likes to check in: make sure he¡¯s being safe and responsible. ¡°It¡¯s a bit messy-¡±


    ¡°A bit?¡± Ivo snorts, sliding a pile of clothing out of the way with his foot. ¡°It feels like an explosion went off in here. Do you ever clean?¡±


    They¡¯ve got a strange relationship. It isn¡¯t hatred, and it isn¡¯t quite love. The man drives him crazy, but somehow, he still can¡¯t seem to leave him alone. ¡°Okay, Mr. Perfect, sorry I¡¯m not a neat freak like you. Why don¡¯t you clean my room if it bothers you so much?¡±


    ¡°You wish.¡± Instead of cleaning, Ivo tosses his bags onto the floor, adding to the mess.


    Rio¡¯s door has a lock, for some reason. He¡¯s never had a problem with it. It¡¯s obvious Ivo doesn¡¯t work out. He¡¯s scrawny, short; it¡¯s almost too easy for Rio to pick him up. He¡¯s a bit horny. ¡°Do you like to be dominated?¡± He knows the answer to this, already, but he wants to hear Ivo say it. A few days ago, they had a conversation about BDSM, and then fucked in Rio¡¯s dorm room in the middle of the night. Ivo loves getting under Rio¡¯s skin. He never does what he¡¯s told.


    The smaller boy stands against the wall. ¡°You know the answer to that.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    When Rio takes him by the throat, he doesn¡¯t object. ¡°Do you like to be degraded?¡±


    Ivo really is beautiful. His eyes are small, downturned, always sad underneath his gigantic glasses. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What about pain?¡± Rio drags his fingers down the boy¡¯s cheeks, which are pink with color, and warm to the touch. ¡°Do you want me to hurt you?¡±


    This time, the word is a whisper. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Rio loves being dominant, and he¡¯s good at it. Ivo¡¯s a brat. Rio has an endless number of punishments. He whispers, raspy and impatient, his mouth lingering atop Ivo¡¯s, not quite touching it. ¡°Can I do whatever I want to you?¡±


    It¡¯s noisy outside the room. Ivo ducks his head. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Choose a safe word.¡±


    ¡°Potato.¡±


    This is not what Rio was expecting, but he goes with it. ¡°Can I record myself fucking you?¡±


    Ivo nods, letting Rio push him against a wall, watching him set up a camera. Sometimes, Rio forgets Ivo can¡¯t see very well, and forgets to tell him what¡¯s going on around them. ¡°I¡¯m recording us. Now suck my dick.¡±


    Although Ivo frowns, there¡¯s a twinkle in his eye. ¡°No.¡±


    There¡¯s always a limit. There always has to be space to change your mind. Ivo likes being treated as an object. He says this himself. ¡°Do it. Now.¡± Rio grabs Ivo by the wrist, shoving him backward onto a bed. His skin is soft, and tastes like cotton candy. He lets Rio bite his neck, and ears. ¡°If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll have to punish you. Would you rather I use my hand or a paddle?¡± He has some paddles. Enki never let him use them, but things might change now. She was never adventurous enough for Rio, anyway.


    When Rio started becoming interested in relationships, his parents made sure to teach him about safe, responsible sex. You always need to be certain everything you do is consensual, they¡¯d say. There isn¡¯t much that makes him feel uncomfortable.


    Ivo¡¯s given him head before. He¡¯s good at it, and he never looks away. Rio puts his head back, his hand pressed against the side of Ivo¡¯s face, guiding it. ¡°You¡¯re a slut.¡±


    Some people don¡¯t like being degraded. Enki didn¡¯t. Rio is good at switching up his tactics. Ivo looks up at him, flushed. ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Say it.¡± Rio smirks, his fingers tight and stiff around Ivo¡¯s hair. He stretches out, using one hand to effortlessly guide the boy¡¯s head. Rio gets off on degrading people. Lucky for him, Ivo is into this. He¡¯s disobedient. Rio slaps him across the face. ¡°I said, say it. So I can hear you.¡±


    It¡¯s hard to speak with a cock in your mouth. Ivo doesn¡¯t seem to struggle, which is disappointing. ¡°I¡¯m a slut.¡±


    Rio grunts, his hair loose and covering half his face. It¡¯s hardly ever loose. He takes Ivo by the hair, yanking his head, so that the two men are eye-to-eye. ¡°You¡¯re a bitch.¡± He holds the boy¡¯s hair tightly, tugging, and spits in his mouth. ¡°Aren¡¯t you, Flower?¡±


    Ivo wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Yes, what?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Master.¡±


    ¡°Good boy.¡± Rio lets his hair go, kisses his mouth roughly, not afraid to cause pain. Rio can do whatever he wants, and Ivo won¡¯t complain. ¡°Strip. Now.¡± He lets Ivo go, abruptly, turning to the side table by the couch. When he checks on the boy, who hasn¡¯t moved, he snarls. ¡°Did I stutter, bitch? Strip before I get the paddle out.¡± Rio can be aggressive when he¡¯s horny. Nobody is obligated to play along.


    Ivo begins to undress, letting his clothes fall to the floor by his feet, nearly bumping his glasses off his face. ¡°Good boy.¡± After removing his jeans, Rio grabs Ivo, throws him onto the unmade bed, straddles him. It¡¯s been a while since he¡¯s done anything really kinky. He¡¯s missed it. He holds both of Ivo¡¯s arms behind his back, quiet until he mutters.


    ¡°Are you going to fuck me now?¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Rio touches slowly, softly, preparing himself with the lubricant on his bedside table. He doesn¡¯t need a lot. ¡°Hold still, slut.¡± He adjusts, shoves himself inside with vigor, listens to the quick exhale from a sub who just can¡¯t keep quiet. ¡°You¡¯re going to do what I tell you, and you¡¯re going to be good about it. Aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Ivo grumbles. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I want, idiot.¡± He squirms, getting comfortable, letting Rio continue his nibbles and bites. ¡°Are you going to let me cum this time?


    ¡°Only if you deserve it.¡± Rio knows what he wants, and he¡¯ll do anything to get it. ¡°Now shut up. You¡¯ll do as I say.¡± He moves quickly, unkindly. He grumbles, breathing in Ivo¡¯s ear, ¡°I want to actually hear you making noise.¡± Rio isn¡¯t the loudest in the world, but he doesn¡¯t try to be quiet, either. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a prude.¡±


    Things have changed between them. Rio isn¡¯t sure when, but all of a sudden he feels the need to please Ivo during sex, and not just fuck around to get his rocks off. He wouldn¡¯t say it¡¯s love, or even overt affection, but things feel different now. Ivo is very mysterious, and Rio enjoys puzzles. He¡¯s good at them, too. Ivo tries not to be noisy. Despite this, he can¡¯t help but squirm and whimper. He knows not to cum without permission, but likes to do it anyway, like a brat.


    Past partners have told Rio they like his animalistic behavior. He groans in Ivo¡¯s ear, and scratches down his stomach, and tosses him around like an animal fighting with its prey. ¡°Stop touching yourself, bitch. I¡¯ll get to you later.¡±


    There¡¯s clothing all over the bed. Ivo wiggles and squirms, one eye crossing underneath his glasses. His eyes do this a lot. ¡°What if I don¡¯t? You¡¯ll punish me?¡± He breathes loudly, grabbing Rio by the hair.


    ¡°I love it when you¡¯re needy.¡± Rio grips Ivo by the wrists, holding his arms down above his head, spitting in his face. ¡°You¡¯re not very good at listening, are you, Flower?¡± He¡¯s unsure why he keeps using this nickname: but it fits the mood, and it seems suiting. He teases Ivo¡¯s cock with his hands, fucking him roughly, enjoying the sight of the man helpless and whimpering. Ivo¡¯s not the vulnerable type. It¡¯s an exciting change of pace watching him come undone.  There¡¯s something satisfying about making people beg. Rio has made a lot of people beg. He loves to be in control, and to watch his subs whine and whimper, waiting for more. Ivo can¡¯t move - but it¡¯s not like he tries very hard. It¡¯s easy to tell when someone is about to cum. Instead of getting Ivo off, he lets go.


    ¡°Rio!¡±


    Four-Eyes rarely calls him by his name. With the desperation in his voice, it sounds like heaven.


    Earlier this morning, Ivo got in a fistfight. It wasn¡¯t his first, and it certainly won¡¯t be his last. When Rio is upset, he takes some time to himself to meditate and regroup. When Ivo is upset, he fights and steals. It had begun with him swiping an energy drink from a supermarket, and being questioned by a man in the adjacent checkout line. Ivo is often calm, introspective - but he has a temper. When he acts out, everybody knows he¡¯s feeling pain.


    ¡°Stop it, Ivo,¡± Rio had said, tugging on his arm. ¡°Let¡¯s just go.¡± He knew this wouldn¡¯t work, but his first defense is always kindness. They were in the parking lot, having gathered a crowd of bystanders, shouting and chanting. Ivo hadn¡¯t started the fight, but he had provoked the man, and now here they were, fist fighting in a supermarket parking lot.


    In the moment, Ivo had shoved Rio out of the way: he was taken aback by this. But Rio is calm and quick, and grabbed Ivo with both hands. It isn¡¯t hard; the man is only five foot six. ¡°Stop!¡± Rio had shouted, yanking the boy off his opponent, and tackling him to the ground. ¡°You can¡¯t just attack people when they upset you!¡± He¡¯d apologized profusely to the man, and tugged on Ivo¡¯s arm: tightly, so that he had no choice but to follow Rio to the car. ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you, Four-Eyes?¡±


    Ivo rolled his eyes. ¡°You think you¡¯re so fucking noble, don¡¯t you?¡± He¡¯d gotten into the car crossly, acting like a child who¡¯d just been told no. ¡°Saint Rio, who never does anything wrong. Give me a break.¡± Ivo had lost his temper with Rio before, and Rio was sure he¡¯d do it again. Most people would be upset. Rio is a spiritual person, and knows that angry people are just hurting.


    He''d turned the car on, taken a moment to let Ivo seethe, and then touched his arm. ¡°Do you want to talk about what¡¯s bothering you?¡±


    The crowd in the parking lot was dispersing. Ivo didn¡¯t respond to Rio¡¯s touch, but he didn¡¯t reject it, either.  Sometimes, he pushes or punches Rio, and he never apologizes. ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Something Rio learned from his fathers is that you can¡¯t force a person to talk about something. It will make them defensive, it will make them recoil away from the conversation. Rio¡¯s parents never pressured him into discussing his feelings. But he always did, when he was good and comfortable. He suspects Ivo will do the same. ¡°Well, I just want you to know it¡¯s okay to be angry. But you can¡¯t make that anger other people¡¯s problem.¡±


    Ivo scoffed, shrugging Rio¡¯s hand off his arm. ¡°Just take me home.¡± He opened the stolen drink and took a swig. He was quiet, staring out the window as Rio began to drive.

 XIX. Voice Memos.

    It¡¯s seventy five degrees. Sage missed the sun, and the sand. Sometimes, they wonder what life would be like if things hadn¡¯t happened the way they had. March is the windiest month in Miami, and the air is humid. It¡¯s always humid. Things don¡¯t feel the same anymore. It¡¯s a long and expensive trip across the country, and Sage doesn¡¯t much like flying. In Florida, they lived in Upper Eastside, in a house down the street from Morningside Park. Someone else lives there now. It probably wouldn¡¯t feel like home anymore.


    Last night, Sage landed in Miami at eleven thirty. Today, they have plans with friends from elementary, who they recently got back into touch with after years of not speaking. They could be completely different now. They wouldn¡¯t be the only ones. There¡¯s a swimming pool in the hotel. Sage, this morning, went swimming there and cleared their mind a bit, but isn¡¯t in the mood for that today. Anyway, Sage isn¡¯t really a fan of swimming, and is terrified of open water. They prefer walking in nature or visiting the zoo.


    Amity and August meet Sage at the entrance of Miami Zoo, where they used to spend their free time together before Sage moved away. August was always a girly girl, and she hasn¡¯t changed: but Amity is nearly unrecognizable. ¡°Hey,¡± she says, pulling her fingers through the purple streak in her hair. ¡°Where¡¯s your brother? You came alone?¡±


    This is why they haven¡¯t been in touch. Amity never was shy about her crush on Rio. This would be fine, in itself, if she weren¡¯t so aggressive about it. Sage remembers her throwing herself onto him, handsy and outspoken, despite him telling her to stop. They were young, then, and already Sage''s friends were becoming interested in boys. Sage ignores her greeting, following their two old friends into the zoo. ¡°Hey, guys. I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s been almost nine years since I¡¯ve seen you. We were just babies.¡± Sage feels out of place here, awkward, like spending time with strangers. The girls feel like strangers. After enough time apart, everybody does. Sage''s mandolin is in the hotel room, lying on the bed along with their notebook. More than anything, playing music helps Sage calm down and sort out stress.


    August wears a pink dress and a denim jacket. ¡°I saw some of the demos you posted.¡± She was always the most supportive of Sage''s friends, and she¡¯s definitely the one they missed most. ¡°You¡¯re good! Do you think you¡¯ll ever start selling albums?¡±


    This is something Sage has never thought about. They enjoy music, sure, but certainly don''t think they¡¯re talented enough to go anywhere with it. ¡°I dunno.¡± They mumble, scuffing their feet on the ground when they walk. ¡°Probably not.¡±


    Sage''s favorite part of the zoo is the sea animals. They¡¯ve  always loved penguins and aquatic creatures. ¡°Why not?¡± August hands her friends their tickets, buttoning up her short jacket. ¡°You¡¯re so talented! Don¡¯t you think, Amity? Sage doesn¡¯t even stutter while singing!¡±


    At eight years old, Sage hadn¡¯t yet begun their identity exploration. They were interested in baggy clothing, and long hairstyles, and this really meant nothing at all. Sage''s parents and brother always tell them to stand up for themself, as if it¡¯s easy. They¡¯re all so good at it. It feels uncomfortable going out without Rio.


    The teenagers walk, stopping to watch the exhibits and take photographs. Sage feels uncomfortable, as they always do upon receiving words of affirmation. They suspect it¡¯s a lack of confidence, but they¡¯ve  never figured out how to actually become confident. Rio seems to have mastered it, and Sage has always been envious of him.


    ¡°So, anyway¡­¡± Amity looks like a punk rocker, complete with facial piercings. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question before. Where¡¯s Rio? Did he come, too?¡± She has a sly look in her eyes, the same one Sage remembers from their friendship days. ¡°I follow him on social media. He¡¯s even hotter now.¡±


    ¡°Ew.¡± Sage wrinkles their nose, feeling warm under the sun. ¡°Don¡¯t talk about my brother like that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on.¡± Amity chuckles, sticking her tongue out to expose a silver stud. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a prude. Everybody probably thinks he¡¯s hot.¡± She does have a point, but Sage won¡¯t willingly think about this. It¡¯s not actually pleasant to remember people want to fuck your brother. ¡°Did you know that he posts nudes and sex videos on the Internet?¡±


    August looks astonished. Sage feels disgusted. ¡°Stop talking.¡± They want to say more. The words catch in their throat on their way out, and swallow themselves. It¡¯s hot. Sage isn¡¯t used to the heat anymore. It takes a very long time to speak. August was the only kid at school who never made fun of them.


    ¡°He does it a lot, actually. God, I wish I could be in one of his videos. He does it with, like, three people at once. Did you know he has these spiky things in his dick?¡± She grins, enjoying getting a rise out of Sage. She¡¯s always been this way. ¡°I¡¯d love to know what that feels like down my throat.¡±


    There¡¯s a breeze tickling Sage''s hair. Outside a dolphin terrarium, they sweep their fingers across the glass, feeling nauseous. Graduation is in two months. Sage can¡¯t believe they¡¯ve come this far. They¡¯ve thought about going to college, but don''t think this is something they¡¯d enjoy. To be honest, Sage isn¡¯t exactly sure what they want to do with their life after graduation, and it¡¯s never been something they were really pressured to figure out. Maybe they¡¯ll  move out, but probably not.


    ¡°Shut up, Amity.¡± August scowls, giving her friend a stern look. ¡°You¡¯re not even old enough to look at that stuff.¡±


    Sage begins to walk. This morning, the thought of spending time with old friends was exciting. Now it just feels like spending time with strangers. ¡°So what? You¡¯ve never lied on the Internet before?¡±


    Their home in Miami had five bedrooms, and Sage used to hate sleeping alone. When they were a child, they used to have nightmares about the family dying suddenly, without a chance to say goodbye. Nobody is quite sure where these nightmares stemmed from, but they lasted many years, and always led to Sage running into their family¡¯s bedrooms to check if they were safe. One night, when Sage was around seven, they had a particularly bad dream about Rio, and awoke in tears. Their rooms were always next to each other, and Rio always stayed up late. He still does. When Sage ran into his room that night, he was still awake, watching a video on his tablet.


    Sage had gasped, swallowing a lump in their throat. ¡°Rio!¡±


    He looked up, pausing his video, setting his tablet on the bed beside him. ¡°What are you doing up? Did you have another nightmare?¡±


    Sage nodded, running over to their brother¡¯s bed. He scooted over, freeing a spot next to him. ¡°Why do I keep having nightmares?¡± They sat in Rio¡¯s bed; he shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Can I sleep with you tonight?¡± It was hot in his bedroom, and humid. Rio had a small altar in his bedroom, back in Florida, before it became a large, shared space.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Rio¡¯s room was a mess. This hasn¡¯t changed: he¡¯s always had more things than he knows what to do with. ¡°Come on.¡± He patted the empty space, letting Sage into the covers. They always sleep better when other people are around. Sage got comfortable, and Rio resumed his video.


    He wasn¡¯t always nice to them. When Rio and Sage were home alone, he¡¯d slap them with wet dish towels and throw things at them from across the room. When Sage complained to their parents, Rio would swear up and down they were making things up.


    Sage fractured their wrist when they were twelve, trying to perform a round-off. The wrist is made up of eight small bones, which connect with two larger arm bones. Sage''s fathers knew immediately their radius was broken, and insisted they go to the hospital. Sage wore a cast for six weeks, which was bulky and made their wrist sweat, and then this was taken off, and they wore a splint instead. Since then, they¡¯ve twisted ankles and wrists, but haven''t broken another bone.


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    When Sage was about six years old, they went to the ocean to fish with their siblings. Usually, Amani and Surya would come - but it was summertime, and Rio had just recently become old enough to supervise his siblings alone. As kids, Rio and Sage were always warned to be careful near open water, and to watch for bubbles to erupt on the surface, as this meant a crocodile was approaching. Still, Rio was always reckless and enjoyed taking risks, seeking thrill and having several encounters with the creatures. Sage wasn¡¯t afraid of the ocean until this fishing trip, when a crocodile nearly pulled them into the water. It happened quickly, and Sage didn¡¯t have time to think. Cassia was almost three years old, hobbling a safe distance from the coast, digging in the sand and driving cars over grassy hills. But she was little, and didn¡¯t understand the danger ¨C and so, when her car was washed away by a strong current, she ran after it.


    It wasn¡¯t that nobody was watching. It was that Sage was closer to the girl, and chased her into the water. ¡°Cassia, you can¡¯t just run into the ocean! There are crocodiles!¡± Cassia stared at them, not caring, or not really understanding. Sage had picked her up, so that her feet dangled above the surface of the water, before turning to place the girl safely onto the shore - and then a sharp pain erupted in their leg, and they were being pulled.


    At first, it was hard to tell what was happening. When Sage looked back, their left leg was stuck in the mouth of a crocodile, and Rio was on top of it, holding a large stick above its head. It¡¯s easy to outrun a crocodile. They can reach speeds up to twenty miles an hour, but they don¡¯t hunt on land, and they¡¯re unlikely to chase a human who¡¯s too far out of the water. Rio always seemed fearless. It¡¯s hard to believe he isn¡¯t. Though Sage and Cassia were sobbing, Rio dislodged the crocodile with a sharp poke to the eye, and it swam swiftly away.


    As a kid, Sage went to the ocean all the time: to fish, to swim, and nothing ever happened. They had seen a croc before, of course, they were everywhere, but they were never less than six feet away. That day was just a bad day, and it traumatized them. Somehow, Sage survived the attack with only a deep gash up their leg, which was treated at the hospital, and healed with minimal scars. Still, they don''t talk about this experience, and nobody brings it up. Since that day, Sage has been terrified to swim in open water ¨C even in Alaska, where the most dangerous animal is an orca, which isn¡¯t a threat to humans. There could be hazardous things lurking under the surface, and this isn¡¯t a risk Sage chooses to take.


    When Sage was twelve, they found porn on Rio¡¯s computer when he was away, and they got curious. But when they watched it alone later on, nothing happened. There was no excitement, no sudden urge to masturbate, no sort of enjoyment at all. In fact, the more Sage watched, the more uneasy they felt, until they couldn¡¯t bear to watch another second. At first, Sage thought something was wrong with them: everyone was told that, during puberty, they¡¯d develop urges and curiosities, and Sage never did. At first, they thought maybe they were a late bloomer. But a year later, when a friend sent them the link to an explicit video, nothing had changed. There was still that same sense of boredom, discomfort, even disgust. It was lonely and confusing, being so different from all their friends. All the other teens cared about was dating, sex, popularity. That¡¯s what it seemed like. There were no other non-binary kids in junior high, no other asexuals, no other biracial kids with two dads. And no one talked about it, the possibility to lack sexual attraction. No one talked about it beyond saying it was abnormal and a phase of confusion. For a long time, this is what Sage thought too. In ninth grade, Sage got tired of being different. They tried to speak to the guidance counselor, the most open-minded teachers, and nobody would listen. So Sage went to their father, after school one day, after being bullied especially badly. It¡¯s not bad to be different, but everyone acts like it is.


    ¡°Papa,¡± said Sage, sitting across from him at the kitchen table. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with me. Everyone at school keeps calling me a freak.¡±


    Rio was home too that day, playing video games in his room. Amani looked at his child, who was fourteen, and very confused. ¡°Why would they call you that? That¡¯s cruel. You¡¯re wonderful.¡± It was easy for him to say; he was their father. You have to tell your kids they¡¯re wonderful, even if they¡¯re not.


    Sage has never met another asexual person. They would like to, someday, to feel more normal. They shrugged at Amani, who looked concerned. ¡°People keep talking about sex and getting a partner, but I don¡¯t care about that stuff at all. I¡¯ve tried to care about it, but I just don¡¯t, and all anyone in my grade talks about is sex, and it feels so gross and weird.¡± This was hard to admit, but Sage knew they could tell their parents anything. Maybe Sage was a freak. There are so many sexualities, and they¡¯re all valid, even if you feel alone sometimes.


    Their father only paused for a moment. ¡°Do you know what it means to be asexual?¡± Sage didn¡¯t. Until that conversation with their father, they had never heard of it. That¡¯s the problem. There¡¯s only one default, and it¡¯s heterosexual. Sage has grown tired of straight-only education in schools, because it isn¡¯t the default, and so many young people are left isolated and misunderstood.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly common. It means a person doesn¡¯t feel sexual attraction to others, and it¡¯s entirely normal.¡±


    This was news. Growing up, after discovering their sexuality, Sage often struggled with feeling accepted in the queer community. There was so much discourse, prejudice against even others in the community. The fact is, Sage isn¡¯t straight, and Sage isn¡¯t cis, and so this makes them queer. Asexuality makes up more than two percent of the population, the same as red hair, or green eyes. Still, nobody ever denies the existence of red-haired, green-eyed people. ¡°That¡¯s a thing?¡±


    Amani chuckled, smiling fondly at Sage. ¡°Of course it is. There¡¯s nothing wrong with you, Sage. Asexuality is real, and it¡¯s valid just like anything else.¡± It made so much sense to Sage, for the first  time, what was different about them.


    When Sage arrives back at the hotel room, it feels somber. Their parents sit on their bed, talking to one another in hushed tones. Sage shares a bed with their brother, and it feels like childhood. Something is off. Sage''s family environment is usually upbeat and optimistic. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Sage''s  stutter gets worse when they¡¯re upset. When their stutter is bad, so is their anxiety.


    Surya sits with his phone in his hands, and his back to the wall. Rio sits on the bed he¡¯s sharing with Sage, He¡¯s been in the sun all day. Unlike Sage, he never burns. ¡°Grandpa passed away.¡±


    Surya¡¯s father, Arjun, is almost ninety years old, and has been married three times. Surya lost his mother to cancer in 1984, and his first stepmother in 2009. Sage has heard a lot about their late grandmother, and feels sad sometimes about never having met her. Surya isn¡¯t an emotional man. Amani¡¯s hand sits on the man¡¯s back; this is how he comforts people. Sage has seen their father cry exactly twice: after the death of Cassia, and after a particularly bad argument with his husband. Sage used to think arguments were something to avoid at all costs. This isn¡¯t necessarily true.


    ¡°When?¡±


    Sage''s hair gets frizzy in the heat. This is one thing that¡¯s not to be missed about Florida. Their brother shrugs. ¡°A few hours ago, I guess. He had a heart attack. Dad just got a call from Iksha.¡± Sage doesn¡¯t often see their extended family. If their grandfather hadn¡¯t come with Surya to America, they probably never would have met him.


    Plato and Aristotle believed that the stars were entirely different from the four earthly elements: aether, or spirit, the material that fills the earth beyond the terrestrial sphere. The astral plane is the world of celestial spheres, crossed by the soul on the way to being born, or after death. It¡¯s believed to be populated with angels, souls, immaterial beings, which some people have witnessed during a near-death experience. The living can¡¯t access it, and the dead can¡¯t leave.


    Some religions believe in the Summerland: a place for souls to rest between earthly incarnations. It¡¯s a beautiful and peaceful place, filled with rolling hills and eternal lush grass, where the souls of the deceased can gather with the souls of their loved ones. All souls, except those who are lost and wandering, gather in Summerland ¨C even souls of the evil. Time is spent reflecting on life, watching over living loved ones, planning our next lives. Some people believe, when the soul is ready, it reincarnates, and rejoins the mortal plane. Once it gets here, it loses all memory of the Summerland.


    Animism believes every object, animate and inanimate, possesses a soul. Many free thinkers don¡¯t classify animism as any type of religion at all, but as a phenomena. Others classify animism as an aspect of religion, though it can certainly be considered more philosophical than religious or spiritual. For some cultures, unconsciousness is seen as the absence of a soul, because nothing can survive without a soul. Sometimes, it wanders out of its earthly body and returns later on, resulting in near-death experiences. If you asked Rio, he¡¯d say it was certain he¡¯d lived past lives before. If you asked Sage, they wouldn¡¯t be sure. Sometimes, memories appear in their head of things they¡¯ve never lived before, and of people they don¡¯t know. Some would say this means they have to be true. But our minds can play tricks on us, and memories can change over time.

 XX. Nothing Kills a Man Faster Than His Own Head.

    The worst part of letting new people into your life is the obligation to tell them about your past mistakes. It¡¯s uncomfortable to feel vulnerable. Ciel would rather isolate himself than open up to someone else. His new therapist, Julie,  would say the most uncomfortable parts of life are the most necessary. This is probably what Maria would say, too. He needs to stop focusing on Maria. The more time he spends dwelling on what¡¯s over, the harder it will be to move on. That¡¯s what they say, anyway. It¡¯s summer. It¡¯s been more than a year since the accident.  Calypso¡¯s room is still filled with her things.


    It¡¯s been lonely at home. Ciel has gone back to working regular hours, but work doesn¡¯t bring the same satisfaction that it used to. In the morning of a day he has off, he spends some time at the antique auto museum. It¡¯s probably much-needed for Ciel to get out of his house, but he doesn¡¯t do it often. When the weather gets nicer, he¡¯s more motivated to get out and do things. Julie says it would be helpful for him to meet new people. Healing doesn¡¯t happen overnight. Maybe healing doesn¡¯t really happen at all. Maybe, you just kind of learn to live with pain.


    Before Juno died, she planted a field of violets in the yard. They¡¯ve grown a lot since then. Juno used to say there was beauty in everything. She could see the beauty in everyone, but never in herself.


    Ciel stands outside the museum, looking at a polished blue Argonne Automobile. It¡¯s sunny, but cloudy. Over the past few weeks, he¡¯s been speaking to a woman he met on an anonymous networking website, who¡¯s only just recently revealed her name to him. Bellamy is an anxious woman who doesn¡¯t talk about herself much, but asks Ciel questions about his life and his hobbies. She¡¯s private, but comforting, and makes him feel heard. Someday, he¡¯d like to meet her in person: and although Bellamy has stated her wish to do the same, she¡¯s not ready. Some people are afraid of being known. She knows almost everything about him. He knows almost nothing except her name.


    When he leaves the house, he rarely stays out late. Maria liked going to parties, and concerts, and Ciel always went along. Calypso was born during a rainstorm, when the roads on the way to the hospital were slippery and covered in mud. He was far too young to have a child. He was married for almost six years. He can make decent conversation with people he¡¯s interested in speaking with. Most people just want to talk about themselves.


    It¡¯s summer. When the weather gets nice, the tattoo studios fill up. At the end of the month, Aspen turns sixteen. Ciel hasn¡¯t seen her in a while, but he¡¯s promised to take her to Smith Lake to go swimming. This will probably be good for both of them.


    There¡¯s always new things to learn about people. You could spend your whole life with someone, and still not know everything about them. There were things Maria didn¡¯t know about him after six years. Ciel has been arrested only once, and this didn¡¯t matter once he turned eighteen. In high school, like a lot of kids, he made friends with teens who weren¡¯t great influences. This got him into more trouble than it should, and his mother always punished him for it. Anika never explained to her children why their actions were wrong, but scolded them all the same.


    ¡°Do you know if your father had any other kids?¡±


    It¡¯s not very late. When Ivo comes inside to cook himself a meal, Ciel stands beside him in the kitchen. He¡¯s not an easy boy to have a conversation with, but he isn¡¯t completely to blame for this. He never shares what he cooks, and he never speaks to Ciel unless he¡¯s spoken to first.


    ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡±


    You have to try and be patient with him, said Maria once, after Ciel confided in her about his frustrations. He grew up in a house with a drug addict who neglected him, and then he watched the guy die. Maria knew more about Ciel¡¯s family than she should have. Maria always saw the good in people.


    He doesn¡¯t know about Doutzen. Aspen won¡¯t bring it up, and Ivo won¡¯t want to hear it. He never looks directly at people. Ciel wonders how well Ivo sees him. ¡°Aspen¡¯s been talking to this girl named Doutzen.¡± He often wonders how Ivo cooks. He insists on hating technology, and uses things like talking watches and timers to do everyday tasks. ¡°She¡¯s adopted. Aspen says she did a bunch of DNA tests, and spoke to my mom¡¯s sister, and apparently, Pim had a daughter none of us ever knew about.¡±


    Ciel knows little about his uncle. Everything he¡¯s learned comes from his mother: basic information like his name, and not much else. Ivo doesn¡¯t talk about him. Ciel doesn¡¯t ask. ¡°Am I supposed to care?¡±


    It¡¯s not something Ciel can say out loud. Pim was a victim, too. Most people don¡¯t choose to become addicts. ¡°Your dad had another kid, Ivo. You have a half-sister.¡± It¡¯s weird to think about.


    Juno used to speak to Doutzen. This is what Ciel has been told, anyway. No one seems to know about her. Ivo¡¯s eyes roll at random, so that he has to look at things from strange angles to see them at all.  ¡°I don¡¯t know why you expect me to give a fuck.¡±


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    It¡¯s easy to imagine how you¡¯d react to something. Ciel knows little about his extended family, and this isn¡¯t for lack of trying. He¡¯s asked his mother what her siblings were like, but was never told much. When he asks Ivo about Pim, he never gets an answer. Sometimes, Ciel feels bitterness toward his mother for relocating. He¡¯ll never admit this. Half of his family lives across the world. Until teenagehood, he didn¡¯t know his mother had any siblings at all.


    ¡°Did you ever want a sibling, growing up? Didn¡¯t you ever get lonely?¡±


    Ivo has a boyfriend. He never comes inside. Ciel has seen him through the window.


    He scowls. ¡°No.¡±


    Ciel doesn¡¯t believe this. Any kid would be lonely in a house like that. Ivo¡¯s a liar, and he¡¯s a good one.  His phone is ringing. The ringer is always turned up. When he ignores the phone, it rings again. Nobody ever calls twice in a row unless it¡¯s an emergency. Aspen never calls. By the time he answers, she¡¯s on her third attempt. She¡¯s sobbing. She probably had a fight with her parents again. She gives Ciel no chance to speak, but shrieks loudly, hurting his ear. ¡°I think I killed him.¡±


    She¡¯s barely understandable. It feels like a lifetime ago that he was her age. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Sisters always have a way of interrupting. Something tells Ciel he¡¯d never be Aspen¡¯s first choice of contact.


    It¡¯s windy. Aspen sounds like she¡¯s talking through a tunnel. ¡°Ronnie!¡± She sniffles loudly, and then takes a few very deep and shaky breaths. ¡°He was mad at me. He had a knife.¡±


    He never met Ronnie. Aspen called him her boyfriend, and Ciel was a dumb teenager once, too. You can¡¯t talk sense into a fifteen year old. ¡°He pulled a knife on you?¡± It¡¯s likely she hasn¡¯t called home. It¡¯s not hard to understand why.  ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Boys always ask stupid questions, his sisters complained, all the time, when he lived at home. Aspen is a noisy crier, and it¡¯s a school day. This never mattered to her before. She snorts, and then coughs. ¡°He¡¯s dead, and it¡¯s my fault! I didn¡¯t mean to! I don¡¯t want to go to jail!¡± Despite calming briefly, Aspen¡¯s in hysterics again. It sounds kind of pathetic, actually. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±


    Bellamy takes a long time to respond to messages. She always has something unexpected to say. She texts him every day, more chatty some days than others.  ¡°Aspen, take a breath. Where are you? Do you need me to come pick you up?¡± Maybe he should care more about the lives of his sisters. He didn¡¯t care enough about Juno, and now it¡¯s too late.  As the oldest, he was always supposed to know better, and to be a good influence to the others. If nobody teaches you what it means to be a good influence, how are you meant to know?


    It¡¯s quiet. Wind comes through the phone. Aspen exhales, ragged. ¡°I¡¯m at the Native Heritage Center.¡±


    ¡°In Anchorage?¡± Ciel checks the time, and then lights a cigarette. His car always smells like smoke.  ¡°Aspen, that¡¯s a six hour drive. I have work in the morning.¡±


    She¡¯s wailing again. She¡¯s just a kid. ¡°Ciel, I¡¯m scared.¡±


    Ten or so years ago, Ciel¡¯s sisters made a fort out of tree branches and boxes, and labeled it girls only. He didn¡¯t much care about this, but irritating the girls was fun, so he¡¯d come to knock things over during a ¡°girls¡¯ only meeting¡± in the trees, and both had gone tattling. Anika, who always took Aspen¡¯s side, yelled at Ciel for pestering his sisters, and made him reassemble the entire fort.


    He promised to text Bellamy later. There¡¯s no telling if he¡¯ll actually do this.


    The last time he saw Aspen, they were picking up Doutzen from the airport. She¡¯s a lot like Aspen, from what he¡¯s seen: both girls are persistent, annoying, and hate hearing the word no. He doesn¡¯t speak Dutch, despite his mother insisting he learn all through childhood. As far as he knows, none of Anika¡¯s children really care about what she wants. When Ciel arrives in Anchorage, it¡¯s almost midnight, and it still hasn¡¯t gotten dark. Aspen hasn¡¯t left the Heritage Center, even though it closed hours ago. He wonders what she¡¯s doing so far from home. Tomorrow, he¡¯ll likely show up to work after no sleep at all.


    She got a piercing. There¡¯s no way their mother allowed this. She¡¯s in bad shape: wearing wrinkled, bloody clothing, with black makeup streaks all down her face. She climbs into Ciel¡¯s car without saying hello, and grabs onto him tightly with dirty hands. They¡¯ve never hugged before. Aspen presses her face into him, crying loudly. He should have been nicer to her growing up.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    She looks like she¡¯s been crying all day. Aspen isn¡¯t emotional. Ciel doesn¡¯t remember the last time he saw her cry. She sniffles, rubbing her runny nose into his shirt. Despite the circumstances, this is annoying. Aspen buckles. Her hands are shaking so badly, this takes a few tries. She¡¯s more than ten years younger than him, and looks like a very small child in the passenger seat. ¡°Ronnie took me to the city. He was mad because I wanted to break up. He had a knife in his jacket pocket.¡± Ciel shouldn¡¯t make Aspen relive things. He¡¯s threatened Ronnie once or twice, but in the end, all you can do is hope kids learn from their mistakes.


    It¡¯s quiet. Aspen plays with her fingers, and jumps at the slightest noise. It¡¯s dark on the highways. Aspen, who Ciel assumed to be asleep, sounds very sad when she talks.


    ¡°Can I live with you?¡±


    Ciel¡¯s house is a mess. At least once a week, Ivo gets angry at him for this. ¡°Why?¡±


    He needs a coffee. It¡¯s not something he often drinks. Aspen wipes her face with a dirty shirt sleeve. ¡°Mom and Dad make me want to kill myself. I don¡¯t have any friends.¡± Everyone says being a teenager is easy, and that there¡¯s no reason for them to be so hostile. Ciel has no idea what happens in Aspen¡¯s life. They rarely check in with one another, and don¡¯t have personal conversations when they do speak.


    He shrugs. ¡°Maybe.¡± It¡¯s raining. Aspen curls her legs underneath her in the seat, and heaves a deep sigh.

 XXI. She Has Wings But Will Never Fly.

    Don¡¯t listen to your brother, Cassia. There are no monsters under the bed. There¡¯s nothing under the bed. This whole house is safe for you.


    But Acchan, did you look under there?


    Look, love. There¡¯s nothing under here. Rio¡¯s just trying to scare you.


    Under the bathroom sink of the home Sage grew up in, there was a spray bottle labeled monster spray. Rio, who found a sick satisfaction in scaring his siblings, forced Surya to get creative. Every night, he¡¯d take the bottle and spray all throughout the house, swearing up and down that any monsters were afraid of it, and insisting they would all run away in fear. When Sage was little, they were convinced the bottle contained some magic chemical to kill monsters on sight. Now, they know it was just tap water.


    Sage doesn¡¯t remember a lot about Cassia.  They remember moments of her funeral, and overhearing their parents arguing behind their closed bedroom door, and shouting at Rio. Amani and Surya don¡¯t believe in grounding. Maybe they did, at one point. Sage''s household was always very calm and open; they were never shouted at or spanked, and can¡¯t say the same about lots of their friends. Everyone assumes that Sage can¡¯t have traumas or struggles if they had a peaceful upbringing. Everyone assumes they know what¡¯s going on inside Sage''s head. Last month, they graduated high school. Both of their parents were there, and their grandmother, but Rio wasn¡¯t there. He never is. They talk maybe once a month, in brief conversations between games and classes, and Sage misses childhood.


    Surya knocks on Sage''s door, and then peers inside their room. Sage''s door is never shut, and their parents always knock. ¡°Are you ready for work?¡±


    Since graduating, Sage got a part-time job at a clothing store. It¡¯s anxiety-inducing, and most customers only think of themselves. Working in retail with a speech impediment is a struggle enough on its own. At least once a day, Sage is stopped by a stranger who demands to touch their hair, or know what sex they are, or ask personal questions. By now, Sage should know how to stand up for themself. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Some of Sage''s followers say they should release an independent album. This is possible to do from their bedroom, but it¡¯s far too scary, and Sage doesn¡¯t have the talent for it. Still, when they think about what they want to do with the rest of their life, music is the only thing that comes to mind. Sage likes gymnastics. They¡¯ve never wanted to do it professionally.


    ¡°Acchan,¡± Sage says, fidgeting with a button on their synthesizer. ¡°Do you think I should make an album?¡±


    In the eighties, Amani spent eight years in prison for a crime he didn¡¯t commit. Sage learned of this for the first time only a couple days ago.  According to Amani, he was arrested for armed robbery in 1988, less than a year after coming to America. He¡¯s a good man. Sage is angered by the way their father has been treated in the past. Amani is a gentle man who would never harm a fly.


    Sage has a hammock chair in their room, which is the biggest room in the house. Surya sits in the hammock, watching Sage. He always chews on his words before saying them. ¡°If you¡¯re comfortable with that, I think there are many people who would support you.¡± Even if this isn¡¯t true, a father is supposed to support his children. Most parents will tell their children they¡¯re great even if they¡¯re not, just to make them feel good. Sage''s parents always tell their children the truth, but they do it in a way that¡¯s constructive and kind. As a sensitive person, Sage appreciates this.


    Their kitten, Heka, sleeps with Sage at night. She¡¯s not particularly friendly to anyone aside from Sage, whom she snuggles daily. Sage prefers cats to dogs. When they sit down with their mandolin, Heka swats at the strings. ¡°Do you want to hear a new song before we leave?¡±


    It¡¯s not uncommon for strangers to finish Sage''s sentences. Sometimes they struggle a lot, and people figure out what they¡¯re saying before Sage completes a sentence. Being interrupted feels disrespectful, but nobody likes to wait five minutes for Sage to finish one sentence. When Sage and Rio were kids, he¡¯d bully them for their stutter, and mimic it to make them feel insecure. This just seems like something any sibling would do.


    Surya pets Heka, pulling her claws away from the mandolin strings. ¡°Of course.¡±


    Next month, Sage has a live performance at a karaoke hall. They¡¯ve played in front of a crowd only once, and nearly had a panic attack because of the attention. Amani says the more Sage gets out in front of people, the easier it will become. They don¡¯t like public speaking. It¡¯s probably something that will never get easier. ¡°I wrote a song called Submerged in Honey. I know it¡¯s a weird name.¡± Sage is very familiar with the concept of imposter syndrome. Most musicians sing about falling in love and broken hearts. Sage has never experienced either of these. Sometimes, they wonder what it would be like to crave someone in that way. They could pretend. They could write a love song about somebody else.


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    Sage''s parents always claim to love their music. They aren¡¯t hard men to impress. At times, Sage looks for real feedback on things that could be improved, and all their parents do is say everything is perfect the way it is. Rio says they can¡¯t see imperfections in Sage''s music, because they aren¡¯t musical men - but he isn¡¯t either, and he can still give Sage harsh critiques. In Florida, Cassia loved when Sage sang to her. Every night at bedtime, she¡¯d insist they sing her lullabies, and it would always put her to sleep.  Even though Sage hates singing in front of others, they sort of miss this. The girl¡¯s bedroom doesn¡¯t exist anymore; it¡¯s a spare room now, and few of her things remain. Purging is a way of dealing with trauma. Before the family moved away, Sage''s parents got rid of most of Cassia¡¯s things, claiming healing couldn¡¯t happen otherwise.


    The worst fight Sage ever had with their brother was shortly after the move to Alaska. Sage was struggling with leaving friends behind, and with fitting in at a new school. Rio, like always, adjusted pretty much overnight. This wasn¡¯t fair. Rio was speaking one day about how he was sad about Cassia, and Sage was bitter and stopped doing homework to shout at him.


    ¡°It¡¯s your fault, you know! All of it! It¡¯s your fault she¡¯s dead, and I hate you for making us move away!¡± Their stutter had been quite bad then, as it always is when Sage is worked up. In retrospect, it wasn¡¯t fair to blame him. Things go wrong. Accidents happen. Still, a lot can be prevented if you just pay attention.


    Rio¡¯s never been one to sit back and let things happen. Even as a child, he loved to be in the center of the action. He yelled back at Sage from the living room, where he was playing a computer game. ¡°At least I didn¡¯t just stand there and cry like a baby! You could have helped, you know.¡±


    It¡¯s easy to lash out at people when you have unhealed trauma. Sage has overcome some things, but there¡¯s still a lot to unpack. ¡°I¡¯m only eight! You¡¯re the oldest! You¡¯re supposed to keep me safe.¡±


    ¡°Eight years old is old enough to not be a crybaby all the time! You just get in the way, anyway.¡± Before this, they¡¯d never really fought before. All siblings argue, and purposely annoy each other. Sage is a highly sensitive person, and Rio is good at getting under people¡¯s skin.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a baby!¡±


    The way Sage remembers it, they were nearly in tears. ¡°You act like one,¡± said Rio, making them cry. ¡°See! You¡¯re acting like a baby right now!¡± Sage had thrown a book at him, which he¡¯d dodged easily. It was a rather heavy book, and had landed loudly on the wooden floor, drawing the attention of their father across the house. He¡¯s been bald as long as Sage can remember. He has thick hair in photos from years ago, and looks very different.


    He was tired that day, and fed up with the children¡¯s fighting. ¡°What¡¯s all the yelling about?¡±


    Rio was first to speak, as always. He hasn¡¯t changed much since then. Sage likes to think they have changed a lot. ¡°Grier said everything is my fault.¡±


    ¡°Because it is!¡± Sage stomped a foot, sniffing angrily. ¡°Rio said I¡¯m always acting like a baby!¡±


    ¡°Because you are!¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not!¡±


    Amani is always level-headed. Like anyone, he loses his temper sometimes: but he never takes it out on the children, and he never stays frustrated long. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± He sighed, taking a seat on the large Chesterfield, waiting for the children to join him. This is what he always did. ¡°We¡¯re going to take turns discussing what¡¯s going on, and we¡¯re going to be patient and wait our turns without interrupting each other.¡±


    Sage stuck out their tongue at their brother. ¡°Yeah, Rio.¡± He always interrupted. He¡¯s impatient, and hates waiting for Sage to finish a sentence. In their house, conflict was always dealt with by discussing it, and this was very uncomfortable at first. Amani always wants the kids to figure out what¡¯s causing the conflict, and then discuss how to solve it. Amani got his psychiatry license in 2008. If he hadn¡¯t been falsely imprisoned, he would have accomplished this much sooner.


    ¡°Grier is entitled to feelings,¡± Amani said. ¡°Fear and crying aren¡¯t only for children.¡±


    Despite learning how to be emotionally open from a young age, Sage still finds it uncomfortable. After acknowledging that their bitterness toward Rio came from insecurity and fear, Sage had to learn how to deal with negative emotions in more constructive ways: like journaling or walking. The best outlet for them was always music. Submerged in Honey, like most of Sage''s songs, involves only a mandolin and their voice. They¡¯ve been told their voice sounds like honey, whatever this means. They have new comments on a song they uploaded. Putting yourself out there for criticism is scary and makes Sage feel nauseous. There¡¯s no way to grow without forcing yourself to leave your comfort zone.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±


    Surya stands, fixing the blanket on the hammock chair. There are seldom days he doesn¡¯t work. Sage enjoys spending time with him.

 XXII. Zig-Zag Zombies.

    Bellamy¡¯s brothers are overprotective - especially her oldest, Indy, who threatens anyone who treats her badly. He stands in the doorway of his duplex, bobbing the baby in his arms. Indy is twenty eight years old, and insists on date night once a week with his wife. Bellamy, who volunteered to babysit, is not really the motherly type. Riku is a doe-eyed ten month old, and moves very quickly, often sending Bellamy on a dash to catch him before he gets into something dangerous. ¡°Thanks,¡± says Indy, plopping the toddler into Bellamy¡¯s hands. He¡¯s an organized and anxious man, and trusts almost no one to look after his son. Bellamy isn¡¯t sure her sister-in-law likes her much. In any case, she¡¯s not overly friendly, but follows her husband out the door quickly, locking it behind them.


    ¡°Okay, Riku.¡± Bellamy sets her nephew down, turning to ensure the stair gates are up. ¡°You¡¯ve already had your nap, so what should we do until your parents get home?¡± She has no idea how to deal with children, having none of her own, and spending little time with them. Indy never leaves her alone with Riku for longer than a couple hours. He¡¯s the oldest child, and the legal guardian of their teenage brother, Asa. It¡¯s a long story. Bellamy doesn¡¯t usually tell people about it. ¡°Do you watch TV? Your dad said you like Cocomelon.¡± Riku hasn¡¯t learned to walk, but he crawls very fast, and never stays in the same place for very long. He plays with a plastic car, babbling at it, making no sense. Babies are dirty. Bellamy isn¡¯t sure how she feels about them. Her parents should never have been married. Bellamy was married once, too.


    She was born with a large port wine birthmark covering half of her face, and the backs of her hands. She hasn¡¯t left the house without makeup since early teenagehood. Classmates weren¡¯t the only ones who made fun of Bellamy for her skin.


    ¡°Do you need a snack, Riku?¡±


    The cupboards are always full. Indy¡¯s wife is a chef, which is fortunate because Indy can¡¯t cook to save his life. Akari makes many healthy homemade snacks. Indy is too worried about feeding his child healthy foods. Riku crawls across the room to Bellamy, picking up a plastic ball, bringing it to his mouth. It¡¯s too big to choke on. Babies chew on absolutely everything. Riku¡¯s teething. This makes him irritable and tired. He likes blueberries and boiled eggs, as long as they¡¯re cut into small enough pieces that he won¡¯t choke on them.


    ¡°Here¡¯s some berries. I think they¡¯re your favorite.¡±


    Bellamy doesn¡¯t recognize herself in the mirror. She lives behind a thick cloud of fog, watching her body move of its own accord, with no say in any of it. It¡¯s hard to explain how it feels to be disconnected from your body. Bellamy lives alone in a tiny house she helped assemble. She was married for six months, and Simon lived in the tiny house too. She loved him. She spent her entire marriage detached from her own thoughts. She doesn¡¯t remember most of her childhood.


    On bad days, she spends hours disconnected from her body: watching herself speak, move, and breathe, but really having no part in it. She possesses memories that seem to have been lived by her body, but don¡¯t belong to her. Most days, it feels like Bellamy watches her life go by without participating in it at all.


    ¡°Mama?¡±


    Like a lot of babies his age, Riku gets separation anxiety. He tugs on Bellamy¡¯s pant leg, whining. He knows she¡¯s not his mama. Indy is overly attached to his ten month old. Even Akari says he needs to teach him how to self-soothe. ¡°Your mama will be home in a bit.¡± Riku doesn¡¯t want to be picked up. When Bellamy tries, he screams loudly, wiggling away. ¡°What do you need?¡± Nobody really knows how to raise a baby. Bellamy¡¯s parents did a poor job, and she¡¯s the one who has to pay the consequences. Riku sleeps in a crib next to his parents¡¯ bed, even though there¡¯s enough space in the duplex for a room of his own. He¡¯s small for his age. At least, this is what Indy says.


    Riku takes a few berries in his chubby fist, dripping juice all over the carpet. Akari won¡¯t be happy about this. Bellamy is supposed to feed him at the table, with a bib. It¡¯s not her first time watching a baby. She knows that they¡¯re messy and smelly. Bellamy worked all day. A full day of activity makes her very tired.


    Bellamy¡¯s father died when she was sixteen and locked away in a hospital. This is one of her earliest memories as host. Nobody speaks about it. In therapy, she practices how to communicate with parts of her that hold different memories.  She would look in a mirror, and wonder who she was looking at - hear stories from others of things she¡¯d said and done, with absolutely no recollection of them. She appeared out of nowhere one day, and now she can¡¯t leave. Classmates in high school would call her by a name she didn¡¯t know, and ask questions about herself that she didn¡¯t know the answer to.


    You¡¯re going crazy, everybody insisted. For years, this felt like the only explanation.


    The tiny house was built for her and Simon, but it¡¯s really only big enough for one person to live comfortably. Bellamy owns the house, and Simon was unhappy about losing his access to it after the divorce. For months afterwards, he tracked her whereabouts. She remembers being followed by him after work, and finding packages on her doorstep early in the morning. Somehow, the man memorized her schedule, and this was the most frightening part. Bellamy is a purple belt in Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. She learned mostly to protect herself from her mother. Self-defense comes in handy a lot of the time.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Asa is fourteen years old. He sneaks up on her. He¡¯s learned to be sneaky, living in fear. He sits on the living room floor, handing Riku a toy that¡¯s fallen. ¡°Indy didn¡¯t tell me you were coming.¡±


    Bellamy suspects her youngest brother is a system, too. He says things sometimes that are unlike him, and doesn¡¯t remember conversations from days ago.


    Voices rattle in her head. She often has very negative, abusive thoughts she can¡¯t control. ¡°Does he ever?¡±


    Asa frowns, staring at the wall. ¡°Not really.¡± It¡¯s been six years since Indy adopted him. When Bellamy and Luca were teenagers, he adopted them, too.


    Indy and Akari get home before dinnertime. Although Bellamy has been invited to stay, she¡¯s got a date tonight, and it¡¯s been a while since she felt comfortable around another human being. Indy always cares too much about what happens in Bellamy¡¯s life. She hasn¡¯t been on a date since Simon. All of Bellamy¡¯s house is purple. It¡¯s only a hundred square feet, but she loves the space. She loves the interior of her house, and towing it to different locations, and hanging plants. She never has people over.


    ¡°So tell me about your date.¡± Indy holds Riku on his lap, playing with his hair. Asa sits on the kitchen floor, rarely participating in conversation. ¡°Who¡¯s it with? What are you doing?¡± He met his wife online, as most people meet nowadays. It feels strange that she¡¯s old enough to be married, too. Ciel is divorced too. He hasn¡¯t spoken much about his past.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it if it goes well.¡± Indy knows Bellamy¡¯s policy on dating. No sex on the first date, no falling in love, and definitely no revealing of personal information until she knows if there¡¯s potential. ¡°I gotta get going. I¡¯m going out in a bit.¡±


    Bellamy never really knew the body¡¯s father, but learns about him through her brothers and old journal entries. He was a victim of their mother, too. Bellamy has a hard time believing that her siblings suffer too. Even her younger brothers are more put-together than her. Bellamy isn¡¯t pretty. When she wears makeup, nobody can tell. Where there¡¯s no birthmark on her face, there¡¯s skin marred with acne scars and scabs from picking. Some headmates pick a lot. Some have impeccable impulse control.


    Bellamy¡¯s  mother used to say she looked ill without makeup. She¡¯s pale, with splotchy skin and fiery hair, and she doesn¡¯t tan in the sun. Nobody in the family has red hair, except her. Her mother used to hate her for this.


    ¡°Hi, Bellamy.¡±


    Due to bouts of paranoia, Ciel doesn¡¯t know where she lives. There are things he¡¯s said in conversation that she doesn¡¯t know about. He¡¯s very cute; she loves his pink hair, and his short beard. She¡¯s not outgoing. It¡¯s scary and dangerous to let people know you. ¡°Hi, Ciel.¡± Bellamy enjoys online conversation with him, but it¡¯s so much different to speak to someone in person. They stand outside a mini golf course; Bellamy keeps her distance, trying desperately to focus on conversation. She¡¯s lived an entire lifetime he doesn¡¯t know about. He smells like smoke, and somebody in headspace dislikes this.


    Everything looks make-believe. It¡¯s like living inside a dream, or being a ghost. Sometimes it feels like, if someone touched her, they would go right through her. Ciel smiles, looking a bit shy. He responds to messages quickly and genuinely. ¡°Mini golf was a good idea. I used to go with my family all the time when we were kids.¡± He has two sisters. This is information collected by somebody else. Bellamy read it in the system notebook. She has no tattoos. Ciel, who works at a tattoo shop, has ink on his arms and, apparently, in places she can¡¯t see. He smokes when he walks, tapping ash onto the ground. Her head is very noisy.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Nightmares are funny things. They come in the form of terrors, or vivid imagery that breaks Bellamy into a cold sweat. Sometimes, she wakes in the middle of the night to somebody inside her head calling her name. She keeps a notebook beside her bed, for journaling dreams or for writing down reminders. She¡¯s had memory issues since childhood: her mother would call her lazy, or stupid, or unambitious. She hasn¡¯t spoken to Rebekah in years. When she was eighteen years old, she found herself in the middle of a muddy cemetery, with no recollection of how she got there. It was rather strange; she remembered feeling odd in her classroom at school, and the next thing she knew, a search party had been sent out for her. Bellamy still can¡¯t explain what happened. She supposes now that it must have been Zoya who brought her here; she¡¯s always been drawn to the occult. Her head is wrapped in cotton. Other people¡¯s voices are muffled and distant.


    It took a month to build her house. Without the help of her brothers, it would have taken much longer. ¡°How long were you married? I don¡¯t think you ever told me.¡± Bellamy walks slowly, adjusting her fanny pack around her waist. It¡¯s not the most attractive bag, but it¡¯s practical, and just big enough to carry all of her essentials. They say it¡¯s not necessary to know every little thing about a person. You can think you know everything about a person, and turn out to know nothing about them at all.


    Ciel is nearly as old as her oldest brother. He drops his cigarette onto the ground, and then shrugs. Maybe he doesn¡¯t want to talk about that. Maybe he¡¯s secretive, too. ¡°Six years.¡±


    This isn¡¯t a short time. Bellamy shouldn¡¯t pry. Her curiosity always gets the best of her. ¡°Why¡¯d you get divorced?¡± She didn¡¯t know he was divorced, until she read it. On the way to the golf course, she passed a Rolls-Royce Dawn Drophead - an extremely rare model owned only by private collectors. Bellamy would love to get her hands on one. She knows more about cars than the average person.


    Ciel lights another cigarette shortly after putting out the first one. He walks like her brother: lazily, scuffing his feet on the ground. ¡°I didn¡¯t, really.¡± Aside from the two of them, no one else is near. This puts Bellamy on edge. ¡°Looks like we have the whole course to ourselves,¡± says Ciel, holding out a golf club to her. When people move toward her unexpectedly, she cowers. There¡¯s a phone in Ciel¡¯s back pocket. Not long ago, his youngest sister moved in with him, and their parents aren¡¯t all that happy about it. Aspen is fifteen, and sounds sweet. Ciel says she isn¡¯t. He has another sister too, but hasn¡¯t talked about her much. He seems like a person with a lot of secrets. He¡¯s looking at her.


    You¡¯re pretty much the ugliest girl in our class! No boy will ever like you! You look gross.


    Junior high was the hardest part of school. Kids are mean, and they only get worse with age. When Bellamy covers her imperfections, people pay attention to her. Even the most confident people have insecurities. Some headmates are better at acting confident than others. ¡°You¡¯re pretty,¡± says Ciel, careful not to stand too close. Men don¡¯t compliment you unless they want something. Usually, they say she¡¯s pretty for a big girl. You have to be careful not to trust too early - but sometimes, it¡¯s not that easy. Maybe she¡¯s pretty when she controls what people see, and when she dresses a certain way. Some people are pretty without any effort at all. Sometimes, Bellamy gets paranoid. The world is very dangerous, and people only look out for themselves. Maintaining relationships is very hard when there are parts of you who¡¯d do anything to sabotage them. Bellamy has been seeing the same therapist regularly for a few years, and she¡¯s made some progress, but understanding yourself is tedious and exhausting. She works in construction, and restores old cars for her garage.


    ¡°Do you ever feel like you don¡¯t exist?¡± Most people have never dissociated. It happened to Bellamy for the first time in her preteen years, after quite a bad incident with her mother. It feels strange. For years, Bellamy had no explanation for it. ¡°Do you ever look in the mirror and feel like that¡¯s not your body? Like, it¡¯s a body, but you don¡¯t own it or control it.¡± There are large gaps in Bellamy¡¯s memory. She looks forward to the time off work, and to meeting with her therapist. She always needs help explaining. Everybody thinks therapy is for ¡°crazy¡± people. Everybody thinks Bellamy is faking, that she wants attention or pity or something else that couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. She¡¯d give anything not to have the attention on her, and to just be looked at the same as everyone else.


    Bellamy has been hosting for nine years, and has few memories of the body¡¯s life prior to this. Before her, there was somebody who¡¯s since gone dormant. There are three frequent fronters aside from her, and others who show themselves once in a while, and others nobody has ever met. Outside of the fifteen she¡¯s already met, Bellamy doesn¡¯t know exactly how many exist.


    Ciel is patient with her. He gives her endless tries to finish a course, and doesn¡¯t get annoyed when she dissociates in the middle of a hole. Simon was patient at first, too. ¡°No, but it sounds unnerving.¡± He eats Doritos, and tips the bag toward her. He has deep brown eyes, and a purple silicone wristband. Bellamy doesn¡¯t know his ex-wife¡¯s name, or how their marriage ended. She wants to trust him. It¡¯s always the people you trust the most that leave you the most broken.


    Mini golfing doesn¡¯t take a long time. After sharing snacks and completing the course twice in a row, Bellamy feels overwhelmed and tired. The pets need to be fed. They stay in her bedroom, and they take up most of the space. Simon hated the pets. Zoya loves things that aren¡¯t typical. Her mother lives in the psych ward - although she hasn¡¯t referred to Rebekah as her mother for years. Any woman can have a child. There¡¯s more to being a mother than just birthing a child. When Bellamy was a baby, her mother nearly strangled her to death during a particularly bad psychotic episode. She doesn¡¯t tell people about this.


    Guys don¡¯t like girls who are insecure and uncertain. Bellamy¡¯s therapist says it will help with her confidence to feign it. Every morning before starting her day, Bellamy writes a short journal entry and says some words of affirmation in the mirror. Every night, she sits down and speaks to each of her headmates individually. This is something that was recommended to her by her therapist many visits ago. Some days, her mental health is better than others. Some days, she spends eight hours straight in a dissociative haze. Nowhere is safe for her: not even the places that claim to be safest.


    When Ciel drops her off at home, he asks for a hug, and leaves the smell of smoke lingering on her jacket. People touch her without asking. This brings her back to the worst parts of childhood. Rebekah once told her never to have sex with a man on a first date, because if you put out too quickly, nobody will take you seriously. There¡¯s not many things Rebekah has said that Bellamy remembers. This pops into her mind at random moments.


    ¡°Bye, Ciel.¡± Her head is foggy. It¡¯s impossible to control who uses the body at which time. Ciel says something, but everything is fuzzy, and Bellamy is detached. It¡¯s not uncommon for children to have invisible friends. Bellamy had invisible friends too, but hers were different. Children don¡¯t know how to explain that the voices inside their head don¡¯t belong to them. Bellamy would lose weeks or months of memories at a time, and wake up in the middle of the night to voices speaking, without any clue of where they came from.  It¡¯s hard to remember most of her childhood, and the days have always seemed to overlap and mesh together.


    Zoya hates purple. She likes crystal balls, and lace, and black clothing - but it¡¯s Bellamy¡¯s house, and she just lives in it. Shopping takes a very long time. Presentation is something that has to be agreed on by everyone, and sometimes, sacrifices need to be made. Inside the system notebook, there¡¯s a note written in block letters on unlined paper. It¡¯s so strange to look at. The writing came from her hand, but it doesn¡¯t belong to her, and she certainly has no recollection of it being written. Until headmates learn to be co-conscious, keeping a notebook is the most efficient way to keep information organized. Without Jesper, there would be a lot more information left unknown. The room is a mess: boxes half unpacked, scattered through the small bedroom, random things that have been gathered over the years. They keep everything the headmates collect or make, for no reason other than understanding them better. Elara likes stickers and drawing. L likes ladybugs and pressing flowers.


    It¡¯s very hard to be taken seriously. It¡¯s very hard to work an adult job, or have adult relationships, or manage responsibilities. Bellamy spent a good chunk of her teenage years living in a psychiatric ward, where she was sent for safety after attempting suicide. It was miserable here. It was miserable at home, too. They''ve been attending therapy for most of their life, although they switch therapists often. It¡¯s very important to have regular conversation with headmates, but it feels frightening sometimes. Although Bellamy¡¯s body has experienced many traumas, she doesn¡¯t hold much of it.


    ¡°Hi, baby. Do you want a snack?¡±


    A Manx rat is tailless from birth because of a mutation, so it needs to be bred properly and safely to minimize its health issues. Rats don¡¯t usually live very long. Zoya has had hers for just under a year. They often crawl up her shirt or onto her lap. They eat snacks right out of her hands.


    Bellamy¡¯s ex-husband, Simon, found pleasure in forcing out headmates by triggering them. Her therapist, Moira, makes most of her system feel safe and understood. We¡¯re all a part of this body and mind, Zoya told Simon once, so if you marry Bellamy, you technically marry all of us.


    Not everybody sees it this way. Zoya spends a lot of time online. Bellamy is scared of strangers. Nobody wants to be known by those they don¡¯t know well enough to trust. Some don¡¯t want to be known even by the rest.


    I think I¡¯m going insane. I fell asleep in my room, and woke up in a part of town I¡¯ve never been to before. I can¡¯t remember my name or my childhood. I look in the mirror and can¡¯t figure out who I¡¯m looking at.


    Bellamy has large, curly writing. Over the years, Zoya, like most of the rest, has mastered imitating her. It was Moira who suggested the implementation of a notebook. It was also Moira who suggested taking time each day to try and get to know each other. Their house is very small. Zoya hasn¡¯t been around nearly as long as some of the others.

 XXIII. shooting stars.

    Ivo has been up for hours. He passes the time reading and watching documentaries, wondering how someone could possibly waste their entire morning in bed. At first, he wondered what he was doing here, why he possibly agreed to a trip with a man he¡¯s been dating for only two weeks. But maybe that¡¯s exactly the reason to do it. Rio would say life is too short, and seize the day, and some other corny quote you¡¯d hear in a corny movie. It¡¯s bizarre, really, how easy it is to love someone you used to hate. If you think about it, hate and love aren¡¯t actually very different at all.


    ¡°Morning.¡± It¡¯s humid, and Ivo¡¯s hair is unruly. ¡°Happy birthday, dipshit.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Four-Eyes.¡± Rio sits up, stretching, nearly pushing the blanket off the bed in the process. The room is dark; the only light comes from the dim lamp on the television desk, and the curtains are always drawn. Rio doesn¡¯t hate the dark, but it isn¡¯t his preference. Celebrating your birthday is stupid. Nobody asked to be born, for one thing. People act like birthdays are a huge deal: like making it another year is an accomplishment. But there¡¯s nothing to accomplish. You¡¯re born for no reason, and you die the same way. A completely unprepared, uneducated person can bring another person into the world against their knowledge or will, and then proceed to mistreat them. If you¡¯re going to force someone to be alive, the least you could do is be nice to them.


    Rio grins. ¡°I want to go to the beach, and then do an escape room. I already have it booked.¡± Of course he does. The man is so childish, so careless, he seems so young. Ivo supposes not everyone had the upbringing he did. ¡°Is that okay? I mean, I want you to come, obviously.¡± Ivo hates the beach. Well, more realistically, he hates the sun.


    He sighs, gets out of bed, picks up the ugly glasses from the nightstand. ¡°I guess.¡± He gives Rio a lot of shit, but he really does care about the guy ¨C which feels strange to admit. He won¡¯t say anything more about it, though, because emotions are arbitrary and often mean nothing. ¡°If I must.¡±


    ¡°You must.¡± Rio stands, and kisses the other boy on the mouth. ¡°Put some sunscreen on and get ready, loser. We¡¯re going to the beach.¡±


    Ivo wears a lot of sunscreen. Even in the spring, when the sun isn¡¯t even out from behind the clouds, he¡¯ll put it on. When he was younger, he always refused, even when his sunburns got so bad they¡¯d be peeling from his skin. ¡°Put some on my back.¡± He holds out the bottle, which was bought brand new for the trip. ¡°Make sure you don¡¯t miss a spot.¡± Ivo has worn glasses since he was four years old. Once he considered contact lenses, but he hates the way they feel, and nothing can fix his vision anyway.


    ¡°Got it.¡± Rio takes the bottle. ¡°Do you have a hat?¡±


    Ivo has a large, straw sunhat. He¡¯s a light packer, but he knows what¡¯s important. Rio rubs sunscreen down his back, and then around his front, probably just looking for an excuse to be touchy. Ivo doesn¡¯t mind this, as much as he¡¯ll grumble and pretend to be annoyed. Rio¡¯s hands are cold and slimy from the sunscreen; he¡¯s thorough, careful not to miss a spot.


    ¡°Why are you so tense?¡± Rio rubs his shoulders, massaging the stuff into his skin. ¡°Chill out, Four-Eyes.¡± He moves his hands slowly down Ivo¡¯s chest and stomach, as the boy wears nothing but underwear ¨C he sleeps like this; it¡¯s comfortable, and easy.  He reaches around: from Ivo¡¯s chest to his waist, and slips his cold hands down his boyfriend¡¯s underwear. That¡¯s a strange word: boyfriend. It certainly isn¡¯t one Ivo thought he¡¯d ever use to refer to his worst enemy. Though, he supposes they were never really enemies. Rio annoys the shit out of him, but he always makes up for it.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He grumbles, but doesn¡¯t stop Rio. ¡°You¡¯re not finished putting sunscreen on me yet.¡± He can do it himself, obviously, and might prefer to ¨C but he can¡¯t pretend he doesn¡¯t enjoy the distraction. ¡°Stop.¡±


    Stop isn¡¯t the safe word. This is how Rio knows if Ivo is serious. As soon as the man says potato, he¡¯ll know to back away.  ¡°Come on,¡± says Rio, moving his hand up and down, ¡°Can¡¯t a guy just give his boyfriend a handy once in a while?¡± Their bodies are pressed together: warm against cold, in the middle of their hotel room. Ivo has stayed in hundreds of hotels. He¡¯s never gone on a trip with somebody else.


    He closes his eyes, letting Rio work his magic. He¡¯s such a tease, that man. ¡°You¡¯re the one having a birthday.¡± He hates birthdays. But strangely, he enjoys seeing Rio¡¯s dorky smile.


    ¡°So?¡± Fuck, this feels good. He wriggles, a little. ¡°I want to get you off.¡±


    ¡°Since when?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Shut up-¡± Rio makes a snarl sound, quiet and threatening. He¡¯s so fucking hot. If Ivo admits this out loud, he¡¯ll never hear the end of it. ¡°Why do you always have to be so difficult?¡± He moves a hand up, over Ivo¡¯s mouth, so that it¡¯s hard to speak. This is likely what he was going for. ¡°We¡¯re not going to the beach until you cum, understand?¡± Ivo can¡¯t speak. He nods, instead.


    He still isn¡¯t sure why he¡¯s with Rio. He¡¯s hot, everyone can see that, but there¡¯s got to be more to it than that. Maybe it¡¯s because he¡¯s athletic, or confident, or even funny, in a stupid way. It doesn¡¯t really matter now; he can¡¯t think straight, and he can hardly stand straight, either. Rio moves his hand faster, steadier, until Ivo can¡¯t keep himself quiet anymore. When he groans, Rio whispers in his ear. ¡°Good boy.¡± It¡¯s hard to explain why being dominated is so exciting. Normally, he hates being told what to do.


    Rio bites his ear, and the side of his neck, leaving a stinging feeling. ¡°Cum for me, slut.¡± It¡¯s a demand, and it sounds so hot in his gravelly voice. He¡¯s nearly there. He feels tense, a pit of pressure pushing inside his abdomen. His head always feels fuzzy when he cums, and it always leaves a mess.


    Rio wears a gemstone around his neck: it¡¯s yellow-white, and cold when it presses against Ivo¡¯s shoulder. At times, he wonders what the point is of all these gemstones, all the random crystals Rio has scattered around everywhere. Someday, he¡¯ll surely bring it up. He cums loudly, which is unusual for him. ¡°Shit. You got me.¡±


    ¡°Knew I would.¡± Rio cleans the mess, smug, his gemstone necklace slamming against his chest when he moves abruptly. ¡°Want to get some food? I¡¯m starving. Let¡¯s hit one of the restaurants along the beach.¡± From the television stand, he takes the room key, slides it into the pocket of his loose-fitting shorts. Ivo needs shorts, but not a swimsuit; he¡¯s perfectly fine wearing mesh shorts into the water. He takes the other boy¡¯s cold hand afterward, following him out of the room. Rio has a dislocated shoulder from his last hockey game, and Ivo has a broken nose from a fistfight he got into the night before. Even with one arm in a sling, Rio can tug Ivo around easily, and he does it often, just to prove that he can.


    Juno has supposedly been dead for four months. Ivo is supposed to miss her, but he hasn¡¯t spent a single second mourning since he heard about it. There¡¯s no point to life, anyway. You¡¯re forced to take care of yourself, forced to work yourself to the bone in order to make money for employers and corporations to steal, and then you die with nothing to your name, and nobody to remember you. There¡¯s nothing after death. The deceased become dust, and get swept away, leaving nothing behind. You die, and it¡¯s like you never existed at all. Some people, like Rio, think souls are reincarnated, and can live a thousand different times. Religion is cultish. Religious people are foolish: including Rio.


    ¡°I wish you could see how hot I look right now.¡±


    Rio makes him feel strange. He¡¯s infuriating, and he makes Ivo want to rip out all his hair. He doesn¡¯t hate him - at least, not in the way he hates everyone else. He¡¯d be fine on his own. Some days, Rio gets exasperated with him. It¡¯s only a matter of time before he gives up on Ivo altogether. He¡¯s a hard man to offend. Ivo¡¯s been offending people his whole life.


    ¡°I wish you could shut the fuck up once in a while.¡± Ivo tries to hurt people¡¯s feelings on purpose. Most of the time, he¡¯s very good at it. Rio is the only one in the world who¡¯s ever challenged him. ¡°Nobody cares what you think. You just like the sound of your own voice.¡± They don¡¯t have a lot in common. Rio likes to call them yin and yang.


    Rio is a shadow of different shades of gray. ¡°Nobody likes the sound of my voice more than you do, Four-Eyes.¡± He¡¯s full of shit. He takes Ivo by the wrist, tugging, so that their bodies crash together. ¡°You love the sound of it when I growl into your ear, don¡¯t you?¡± He does it now, sending a tingle over Ivo¡¯s neck.


    For half a week after Pim¡¯s overdose, Ivo took care of himself. It wasn¡¯t until a neighbor  called for a wellness check on the man that he was discovered by law enforcement to be dead. Ivo never missed his parents, even though he was supposed to. Most of the time, he felt far better off without them. He traveled to America with two immigration officers, who reminded him of his father. He hadn¡¯t wanted to go at all, but he was twelve, and children have no say in what happens to them. Before relocating, an officer had to contact Anika: the name mentioned in Pim¡¯s will. Ivo has wondered more than once what would have happened to him if Pim hadn¡¯t had a will. More than once, he¡¯s wished the man didn¡¯t. Despite living in Anika¡¯s house for four years, he never loved her. People don¡¯t owe love and respect just for being family, or for helping someone out. She¡¯d greeted him and the officers at the airport, with Mark at her side. Anika didn¡¯t want him, and he didn¡¯t have to be a genius to figure this out. She was doing a favor for a brother, she¡¯d tell anyone who asked. This never made sense. Pim and his sisters were never close.


    Ivo looks like his father. He¡¯s heard this enough times by now to completely despise it.


    ¡°This is where you live now,¡± Anika said, swinging open the door of her house. ¡°These are your cousins, Juno and Aspen. I¡¯m going to take a bath.¡± He¡¯d felt out of place, and very tired. When Juno attempted to make conversation, he refused to speak to her.


    ¡°Mom,¡± said Juno once, on a night she thought Ivo was asleep, ¡°nobody likes him.¡± She stood in the kitchen with Anika; Ivo could hear them from the hallway outside his room. ¡°Why does he have to live with us?¡±


    Most people take offense to others talking badly about them. Ivo couldn¡¯t care less about the opinions of nobodies. Juno was always too easily offended, and took things personally that had nothing to do with her. Juno never learned how to take a hint. If people treat you badly, it doesn¡¯t mean they want to be your best friend.

 XXIV. Angels With Crystalline Halos

    There are many theories as to what happens after death. Some believe the afterlife you experience depends on the morality of your life. Some believe the soul will live on forever, while the body becomes one with the Earth. Some believe there isn¡¯t any kind of afterlife at all. Despite this, nobody ever knows what will happen to them after death. Some claim to have experienced near-death, seeing their bodies from outside of them, changing the entire course of their existence. The scariest part of death isn¡¯t death itself. It¡¯s the uncertainty of what comes afterwards.


    After glioblastoma diagnosis, it¡¯s very rare to survive more than a year and a half. Less than two percent of people survive five-years, which is a very discouraging statistic. There are stories of people who have lived for years or even decades after a diagnosis. Nothing is impossible, despite the rarity of things like this. As a child, Juno believed in miracles, despite never witnessing one in person. Her mother would say such things were an act of God. There¡¯s no proof of a higher power. It¡¯s easy to believe in something you¡¯ve never seen.


    It¡¯s noisy, and very cold. There¡¯s something in the back of Juno¡¯s hand, which pinches her skin. Something beeps steadily, ringing through her ears and head. It doesn¡¯t sound like her bedroom, and the bed is too hard to be hers. Death doesn¡¯t hurt. A whole lifetime can pass by without you even noticing.


    Juno¡¯s head hurts. This is nothing new.


    A figure stands against the wall, brown and fuzzy. Juno wants to speak, but no sound comes out of her mouth, and none of her body will move. Everything feels heavy: like being trapped under a sack of bricks. Juno was visiting her parents. Her room is cold and plain white, smelling of isopropyl and latex.


    ¡°She¡¯s awake!¡±


    Someone speaks in a language Juno doesn¡¯t understand. When her eyes finally focus, she processes the brown-haired girl standing against a wall, and a brown-haired woman right next to her. Her eyes are heavy and dry, and don¡¯t feel like hers. The last time Juno closed her eyes, she was taking a bubble bath.


    ¡°Am I dead?¡±


    She speaks a language she doesn¡¯t understand. Her voice is hoarse; it feels like she¡¯s forgotten how to use it at all. Juno always knew there was an afterlife, filled with angels and bright lights. They¡¯re too bright, almost. Juno¡¯s eyes squint when she attempts to look around her. If she¡¯s dead, why does her body feel so heavy? All of the angels are white, but none of them have wings. They¡¯re not what Juno expected angels to look like. One stands over her, touching her arm. It feels like a solid touch. Juno wonders if angels are solid beings.


    ¡°I¡¯d expect you to be a little confused. You¡¯re in the hospital, Juno.¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Nobody ever seemed to be bothered by Juno¡¯s impending death. She was reminded all the time that it was near. She hated to be reminded. ¡°No.¡± She had gone to sleep, like she¡¯d done many times before. She had heard her mother calling her name, and seen a light above her head which seemed to go on forever. It was a very bright light. It hurt her eyes. She¡¯d followed a long, winding tunnel that led to a wide open field, where animals grazed and families laughed. It had been a long time since Juno laughed. Her body is made of stone.


    A woman sits on the end of her bed: the same brown-haired woman as before, smiling at Juno as though they know one another. There¡¯s a popular belief that when the good die, they become angels, earning their wings through good deeds and charity. When Juno was younger, she attended Sunday School every weekend with her siblings, and even briefly aspired to be a nun. She isn¡¯t sure anymore how she feels about religion. It brings people comfort, sure, and purpose. There are many ways to find this outside of religion.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep for nearly five months. Nobody expected you to wake up.¡±


    There¡¯s beeping from the hall, and from the machines next to the bed. It¡¯s very hard to speak. Juno¡¯s tongue has never been so heavy. Another nurse joins the first at her bedside, fiddling with machines and touching Juno¡¯s needles. She misses her mother, and her friends, and the sounds of birds chirping in the trees.


    ¡°Where am I?¡±


    During Juno¡¯s first brain surgery, nearly three quarters of her tumor was removed. This seemed like a lot at the time, but it left a lot of room for things to get worse. She was told that attempting to remove more could result in brain damage, because of the precarious location of the tumor. Juno¡¯s not a doctor. She believes whatever she¡¯s told. She had many tests done leading up to her diagnosis, and spent many nights in the hospital after it. It was always uncertain how much time she¡¯d spend at home after being discharged. Life can change quickly, and unexpected things come out of nowhere.


    Brain surgery is a serious matter. There can be lifelong side effects, or damage to the brain. Juno¡¯s head spins. After her surgery, there was a recurrence.


    Everything is white. Juno can¡¯t remember what she was last doing, or when her birthday is. Her head pounds, and the lights above her head pull open her skin. Everybody dies. Some people get to live more than once. ¡°This is your hospital room.¡± They aren¡¯t angels. They¡¯re nurses: poking and prodding and paging one another. Juno wonders where her parents are. There¡¯s a vase of flowers on a table next to her bed, and a photo on the wall.


    It¡¯s hard to speak much louder than a whisper. Juno wonders if she¡¯s saying anything at all. ¡°Where¡¯s my mom?¡± Juno enjoyed living with her parents. She doesn¡¯t remember when she left. Her mother always sends her to bed with a bottle of water, in case she gets thirsty at night. Juno¡¯s afraid of the dark. She has been since childhood. She sometimes sneaks into her parents¡¯ bed after a scary dream - but she¡¯s getting bigger now, and soon there won¡¯t be enough space for her to share. She has no recollection of getting sick. It must have happened. She was riding her bike, and baking muffins, and learning how to drive. Life passes by so quickly. Maybe Juno has lived lives before.


    Nobody speaks to her. It¡¯s as if she¡¯s vanished, swallowed somehow through a portal in the sky. Even though Juno remembers opening her mouth, it¡¯s possible she hasn¡¯t made any noise at all.

 XXV. papercuts.

    Ronnie stood against the wall of the Heritage Center, angry about something Aspen had said. She doesn¡¯t remember what it was anymore. It doesn¡¯t matter. They¡¯d gone to Anchorage for a cosplay event with some friends, though they were only Ronnie¡¯s friends. Earlier that day, Aspen got into a fight with her parents and ran off. It¡¯s not worth talking about. She had no one to confide in, and no one to call for help. ¡°Let¡¯s just go,¡± she said, feeling very small in front of Ronnie, who towered over her. Aspen isn¡¯t short. Ronnie played sports and went to the gym. ¡°I¡¯m tired. I want to go home and go to bed.¡± There wasn¡¯t much that Aspen knew about Ronnie. She¡¯d tried to leave him before, after a particularly bad argument.


    He was drunk. Aspen always wondered where he got booze. He¡¯d just turned nineteen, and hid a bottle of beer in his cup holder as he drove. Aspen was never afraid to stand up for herself until it involved Ronnie. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go home. Come on; let¡¯s go back inside.¡± Some people are so unpredictable. They can be kind and compassionate one minute, and threatening the next. She¡¯d been struggling to figure out how to end her relationship: not because she didn¡¯t love Ronnie, but because she feared for her life. Everyone says boys are mean to girls because they like them. When boys pulled Aspen¡¯s hair and tugged her bra straps in middle school, everyone said it was just because they liked her.


    Aspen was never afraid to tell others how she felt about something. Ronnie had a way of making her doubt herself, even when there was nothing to doubt. At the beginning of their relationship, Ronnie made her feel beautiful and safe. Things weren¡¯t like that anymore, and Aspen wasn¡¯t sure when exactly they had changed. He grabbed her arm too tightly. When Aspen feels stressed, she shouts.


    ¡°I want to break up!¡±


    She¡¯d never shouted at him before. She would rather have died than admit to her parents that she was afraid of him. Ronnie had his hand inside his pocket. He always wore a jacket, even in the summertime. Ronnie had no siblings. He was quite spoiled in this way. ¡°You can¡¯t break up with me, Aspen. I own you.¡± He had a knife in his pocket; a glare from the sun hit the blade. He could kill her easily. She had nowhere to go. There were many people there.


    Aspen¡¯s phone was almost dead. She¡¯d made plans to spend the night at some friends¡¯ houses, but Ronnie never wanted her to go places without him.


    ¡°Why do you have a knife?¡± Aspen stepped back, tripping on a rock, falling backwards onto the ground.  Ronnie stood above her, his hand around the knife¡¯s wooden handle. That was all Aspen could see: the handle. ¡°Ronnie, what¡¯s the knife for?¡± She¡¯d never seen him with a weapon before. She suspected he had crimes involving weapons.


    ¡°You¡¯re so stupid, Aspen.¡± Ronnie snorted, squatting on the ground in front of her. When a group of people ran out of the Center, Aspen¡¯s phone rang again. ¡°You¡¯re mine now. If you try to leave¡­¡± He balanced on his feet, pulling the knife from his pocket. It was a very big knife. Aspen didn¡¯t know how she hadn¡¯t noticed it before. People laugh too loudly. Aspen could hear them from across the parking lot. You¡¯d think, with all the people around, someone would have noticed what was happening. ¡°I love you,¡± said Ronnie. It always sounded like sugar. It always made things better.


    The people you love don¡¯t make you feel unsafe. Aspen is disobedient, and needs to learn to do what she¡¯s told. Her parents say this all the time, too. People give her too many conflicting tips about life. She should stand up for herself. She should respect her elders. With so many different messages coming from so many different people, it¡¯s impossible to know what to believe. Ronnie held the knife in front of him, spinning it between his fingers. Aspen sat on the ground, even though she could have gotten up. Her legs felt frozen to the cement underneath them.


    I only shout at you because I love you. You know that, right? I love you and want to help you improve yourself.


    It¡¯s easy to tell someone you love them. Aspen has heard her mother say it to her father many times, and she doesn¡¯t love him at all. Aspen¡¯s parents don¡¯t believe in divorce. People think it¡¯s better to stay together so the children don¡¯t suffer, but children suffer more watching their parents¡¯ dysfunctional relationship than they ever would without it.


    It was warm. Ronnie stood too close to her. He continued to spin the knife in his hand, so that its blade skimmed the top of her head. He wasn¡¯t Ronnie. He looked like Ronnie, but Aspen didn¡¯t know him anymore. Maybe she had never known him at all. It all happened so quickly. When the blade swung by her ear, she lifted her foot quickly and slammed it into Ronnie¡¯s stomach. He grunted; Aspen snatched the knife when it hit the ground.


    You are nobody¡¯s property. Nobody has control of your body but you.


    Things never turn out the way you expect them to. He¡¯d grabbed her by the throat and squeezed until she couldn¡¯t breathe, laughing when her feet dangled off the ground. Aside from him, she had no one. He would have watched the life drain from her face without batting an eye. He would have pretended nothing happened. He hadn¡¯t noticed her pick up the knife. A benefit of having overprotective parents is learning to be sneaky. Aspen¡¯s vision was going blurry. She struggled to breathe, and he just watched.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She wasn¡¯t thinking. The blade of the knife lodged into Ronnie¡¯s chest when Aspen brought her arm up, and blood poured out when she removed it. Nobody wants to die. Most people don¡¯t want to cause harm to others. He stared at her for a moment before letting go of her throat; she watched him stumble backward onto the ground. Everything spun. The sound of blood gurgling in Ronnie¡¯s throat still rings in Aspen¡¯s head.


    I didn¡¯t know what to do.


    Six hours is a very long time to wait with blood on your clothes. After watching Ronnie bleed out behind the Heritage Center, Aspen was sick on the side of the road.


    I didn¡¯t mean to do it. I didn¡¯t want to die.


    Even Ronnie¡¯s own parents were afraid of him. This is what Aspen had been told by the police officers who questioned her. He¡¯d been on their radar all of his life, pretty much, for all kinds of different things. Aspen didn¡¯t get in trouble for killing him. He would have killed her first. Everyone is acting as though Aspen is lucky to have survived. She hasn¡¯t left the house in a week. In the summers, she used to love hiking and bicycling. This summer, she feels afraid to leave the house. Ciel says it¡¯s normal to feel that way after a traumatic event, and that he¡¯s seen people die too. He wasn¡¯t there. He didn¡¯t see the way the life left Ronnie¡¯s eyes.


    She¡¯s using Juno¡¯s old bedroom. Most of her sister¡¯s things are gone, but it still feels like an invasion of privacy. Aspen would never admit it, but she sometimes misses Juno. She was a pain in the ass, but it does kind of suck that she¡¯s gone. It doesn¡¯t really matter, anyway. Aspen¡¯s relationship with her parents will never go back to the way it used to be, with or without Juno.


    Aspen¡¯s home alone, and sits in the living room. She used to love being home alone, and now it just makes her feel afraid. After summer, she starts her junior year of high school. Her parents expect her to graduate high school and go to university, like her siblings. Her teachers expect her to have her entire career planned out by the time graduation comes along. Ciel always wanted to work with art. Juno always wanted to work with animals. Aspen doesn¡¯t even know what she wants to eat for dinner.


    When Ciel returns home, he¡¯s with a redheaded woman: probably the one he¡¯s constantly talking about. It¡¯s annoying, but at least he doesn¡¯t seem to be obsessed with his dead wife anymore. She says nothing to Aspen, but looks at her for a while before looking away. She¡¯s suspicious, maybe. Around strangers, it¡¯s smart to be.


    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Aspen.¡±


    It¡¯s never been all that hard to be social. Juno, who sucked at it, used to beg Aspen to help her talk to people. Even some adults don¡¯t know how to make friends or make conversation. Aspen wasn¡¯t always a social butterfly. In high school, she forced herself out of her comfort zone, and turned out to be surprisingly good at it. She knows little about Bellamy: except her name, and her aloof nature. Aspen can be aloof, too.


    Ivo hasn¡¯t been home for a few days. With any luck, he won¡¯t come back.


    Ever since her last encounter with Ronnie, Aspen jumps at loud noises and sudden movements. She can never admit to her parents what happened; they¡¯ll rub in her face the fact they were right. There¡¯s no telling where she¡¯ll end up after high school. At least once a week, Ciel receives a call from their mother, asking about her. He never gives a straight answer.


    Bellamy wears a lot of purple, and a lot of makeup. She sits next to Aspen, but keeps a lot of distance. ¡°Hi, Aspen.¡± She looks kind of folded in on herself, and keeps to herself while waiting for Ciel to return. He¡¯s not gone long, and Bellamy becomes less stiff when he gets back.


    ¡°Will you be out long? You said you¡¯d take me to the lake for my birthday.¡±  This weekend, Aspen turns sixteen. Summer is nearly over, and she needs to make new friends when school begins again. Aside from her brother, she doesn¡¯t really spend time with anyone at all. She used to have friends. When she started dating Ronnie, they all slowly dwindled away.


    It¡¯s hot. Even with the breeze, Aspen feels uncomfortable and sticky with sweat. Ciel grabs his keys and cigarettes from the counter. ¡°I didn¡¯t forget about you, don¡¯t worry.¡± He doesn''t have much of a social life anymore.  In high school, he went out almost every weekend. That¡¯s the price of getting older. ¡°Oh, by the way, Aspen?¡± Before moving in with her brother, Aspen hadn¡¯t seen him in a while. He¡¯s a lot more responsible than she remembered. ¡°I¡¯m proud of you.¡±


    The door always closes loudly. Aspen¡¯s head spins.


    I just want someone to be proud of me. I try so hard, and do everything I¡¯m asked. It seems like no one even cares.


    There¡¯s no point in doing things that go unappreciated. You can do a hundred things for someone else without getting acknowledged. Aspen isn¡¯t the best student, but she tries her best, and even stays after school sometimes to get extra help. There¡¯s no reason for this, since nothing she does will be good enough for her parents, anyway. The pavement is hot on her feet. The door slams shut behind her. Bellamy sits in the car, looking at something on her phone. Ciel stands against the driver¡¯s side door, having a cigarette before leaving, like he often does. Aspen has nothing to say.


    Running down the front sidewalk to the car, she hugs Ciel, surprising him. She never hugged her siblings growing up.  ¡°I love you,¡± she says, before running back up the sidewalk and into the house.


    Aspen misses Juno. Some days, she¡¯d swear her sister was still alive. Juno¡¯s voice appears inside her head at random times, and it sounds like it¡¯s coming from right beside her. Juno had a distinct voice you could pick out in a crowd, and it remained lingering in a room far after Juno had left. Aspen spent so much of her childhood and teenagehood fighting with Juno instead of making memories. In her old bedroom, Juno has printed photos with friends Aspen never met. She shouldn¡¯t snoop. Life goes by too quickly.

 XXVI. Melancholy Moonchildren.

    Rio is speeding again. He does this a lot, and somehow, always manages to talk his way out of speeding tickets. Hanging from his mirror is a white pendulum, and a feather he found outside of the college campus. Ivo knows about the coven, but refuses to participate in their activities. There are no gods, he¡¯s thought for years, no afterlife, certainly there¡¯s no such thing as magic. Every time he brings this up, Rio tells him to be more open-minded.


    ¡°Slow down,¡± says Ivo, throwing his legs up onto the dashboard. ¡°You¡¯re going to get into an accident.¡± For how old Rio¡¯s car is, it sure is fast. He weaves in and out of traffic, revving his engine and zooming by frustrated drivers. Ivo doesn¡¯t understand the excitement of speeding. He has no sense of humor, and never makes jokes. Rio hates this. No one gives a shit what Rio thinks.


    ¡°Relax,¡± he says, zooming through a yellow light. ¡°I¡¯ve never got into an accident in my life. I¡¯m a good driver.¡±


    Ivo rolls his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, that¡¯s what you are. I hope you get pulled over.¡± Sometimes he wonders why he¡¯s dating Rio, still. For someone who claims not to take dating seriously, the man sure spends a lot of time begging for Ivo¡¯s attention. It doesn¡¯t matter how many attempts Ivo makes to sabotage their relationship. Rio¡¯s like an annoying puppy, and doesn¡¯t know the meaning of personal space.


    He smirks, pulling easily into the back alley of the mobile home, and leans across the seat to kiss him. ¡°See you at the game tonight, Four-Eyes. Try not to miss me too much. I know that¡¯s asking a lot.¡± He¡¯s an arrogant son of a bitch. People only like him because he¡¯s a student athlete. Recently, he explained to Ivo what it means to be polyamorous, and insisted on knowing how he felt about it. Ivo doesn¡¯t give a fuck. He¡¯s been telling Rio to leave him alone for months.


    In high school, Juno had a crush on a boy in her English class. At sixteen, she was a hopeless romantic, and a little delusional. She came into Ivo¡¯s bedroom one day after school, flustered, and threw her backpack onto the floor inside his bedroom. He wasn¡¯t allowed to have girls in his room. If it were anybody other than Juno or Aspen, Anika would have lost her mind. ¡°Ivo,¡± said Juno, flopping down dramatically beside him on top of the bed, ¡°guess what just happened.¡±


    He scowled. ¡°You messed up my blankets.¡± He¡¯d been trying to study. Juno always barged into his room unannounced. She was an annoying girl who had no friends, and she clung to him like they were best friends, and not just cousins forced into the same space.


    Juno sounded less than impressed. ¡°Forget about your blankets for a minute. Dakota asked me to come over and hang out tomorrow!¡±


    Juno was stupid. He told her this all the time. She isn¡¯t dead. Anika, who claims to be a religious woman, never organized a funeral.  ¡°He probably just felt bad because nobody likes you.¡± It¡¯s easy to pity people. Nobody has any sort of common sense. ¡°Don¡¯t come crying to me when he asks you to fuck and then never speaks to you again.¡±


    He was a lot smarter than Juno. When you learn to look out for yourself at a young age, you learn to be smart. At a certain point, Juno stopped confiding in him at all. She¡¯d been upset. ¡°Why can¡¯t you ever just be happy for me?¡±


    Some people think it¡¯s better to sugarcoat the truth so people¡¯s feelings don¡¯t get hurt. No one ever gave a shit about Ivo¡¯s feelings. If people act foolish, they need to be told. ¡°You want me to be happy for you for being a massive idiot? Okay, fine. I¡¯m happy for you. It¡¯s no wonder you have no friends.¡± Juno cried a lot. She was brought to tears often after conversations with him, and went running to her parents like a child. She could never learn, though. Every time she got upset, she¡¯d promise never to speak to him again. Every time she promised this, she¡¯d be back within the week.


    Before ever coming to America, Ivo learned about the existence of his father¡¯s siblings. He made Anika¡¯s life a living hell on purpose, and yet the bitch insisted on acting around strangers as though she loved and treasured him. People are all the same: desperate for the approval of others in public, and serving themselves in private. There¡¯s no point in being two-faced. Ivo acts the same around everyone.


    Since he began going out with Rio, he hasn¡¯t attended a single hockey game. He hates sports, and crowds, and rarely does things he has no interest in. Rio has found a way around this, though. He holds the key to the chastity cage Ivo agreed to wear, and he uses this to his advantage. He withholds sex for weeks, but teases Ivo daily, and leaves him feeling desperate and on edge. Ivo doesn¡¯t like feeling vulnerable. If he goes to the game, he might finally be allowed to cum.


    Aspen lives with him now. She¡¯s almost as insufferable as Juno was. Inside the house, she approaches slowly. ¡°What are you doing today?¡± It¡¯s hard to sneak up on Ivo. Though he has no peripheral vision, he¡¯s observant, and hears even the quietest noises. Nobody knows how to leave him alone. Aspen doesn¡¯t talk to him much these days.


    ¡°Why do you care?¡±


    Aspen doesn¡¯t leave the house much, and this is annoying. Ivo plans on leaving soon. ¡°I¡¯m tired of following the rules. I want to go out and do graffiti or break the law just so I can feel something.¡±


    He buys his own food. This takes a very long time, and can¡¯t be done without a magnifying glass. He¡¯s been told his life would be easier with technology. Large corporations don¡¯t care about the lives of their consumers. You already use some technology, Ciel has pointed out. You have a talking watch, and use public transportation. You complain about corporations all the time, but can¡¯t go a day without supporting them somehow.


    When he was a kid, Ivo got it in his head to build an off-the-grid home. He¡¯s very good with money. In the next couple years, he plans on using money he¡¯s saved to build his own house in the middle of nature. Living a solitary, technology-free life sounds like a nightmare for people brainwashed by consumerism. Most people are not smart enough to survive on their own in modern society. Most people wouldn¡¯t last a day without the help of somebody else.


    ¡°Go do it, then.¡± Ivo keeps all his purchased food in his room. Otherwise, others would take it upon themselves to claim it. No one ever comes into the shed. He¡¯s frustrated. He¡¯s never let a man control his orgasms before, and it¡¯s a pain in the ass.


    Aspen sighs. She doesn¡¯t have a job. She doesn¡¯t even go to school half the time. ¡°I need your help. You¡¯re good at not getting caught. I don¡¯t want to get in trouble.¡±


    In the past, he has let her come along once or twice. But she¡¯s slow, and draws a lot of attention to herself. Ivo doesn¡¯t break the law for fun. People need to be reminded that authority means nothing. Aspen needs to learn how to fend for herself. ¡°Get me an iced coffee.¡±


    It¡¯s getting colder outside. Summer always lasts too long.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money.¡±


    ¡°Guess you¡¯ll have to figure it out by yourself, then.¡±


    Nobody ever learns. If you want something from someone, you have to be able to offer something in return. There¡¯s not enough time in a lifetime to serve others without reimbursement. Ivo doesn¡¯t care for money, but he always needs a coffee, and everything has a price.


    ¡°You have no sense of morality, you know.¡± Aspen¡¯s taller than him. ¡°You say you hate money, but make people pay you to do immoral things. You¡¯re not any better than anybody else.¡± Aspen thinks she¡¯s smart. This is the case for most people.


    Ivo stands outside the shed, his hand on the door, feeling uncomfortable under the sun. ¡°Morality isn¡¯t real, idiot. Just because the majority of society says something is right or wrong doesn¡¯t make it fact.¡± People believe what they¡¯re told, and call things moral because they were told to. But nothing can be proven, and truth is not objective.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The beginning of another school year means an overabundance of students on public transportation. Ivo always sits at the front, and never thanks the bus driver when he gets off. There¡¯s always too many people in public, and they all speak too loudly. He enjoys the temperature of the ice rink, but the lights are too bright, and sunglasses make everything look dark. Rio thinks he¡¯s important. He speaks very animatedly to the team captain, looking around the arena. Rio was asked to be captain, once, he claims. Everyone knows the man wouldn¡¯t recognize responsibility if it slapped him in the face.


    Ivo sits at the back. If he weren¡¯t so desperate to be freed and tortured, he wouldn¡¯t be here at all. He can barely see the game, and relies on narration from commentators to make any sense of it at all.


    Five months ago, Anika called Ciel to inform him of Juno¡¯s death. The story was that she was taking a bath at her parents¡¯ house when she had a seizure and drowned. It¡¯s a believable enough story, except for one major detail. Although she apparently was no stranger to seizures, Juno insisted she could always feel them coming on, and she¡¯d always make sure she was in a safe place beforehand. Ivo doesn¡¯t care much if Juno¡¯s dead or alive. Anika never did put much effort into consistency.


    It¡¯s getting dark. It takes a very long time to get around without a car. He never interacts with the men in Rio¡¯s dorm. Although they sometimes try to make conversation with him, he isn¡¯t friendly, and walks away from people in the middle of sentences. He¡¯s been horny for weeks. There¡¯s no reason why sexual submission should be so enticing. When the game ends and the spectators begin to file out, Ivo waits for a bus. This always takes longer than it should. He can see the lights of the buses approaching, and hear their tires on the road, but can¡¯t tell which bus is which without being told.


    The doors to the college are always unlocked. The hallways are dark, empty, it¡¯s only ten at night. Most of the students who live on campus are in their dorms by now. Rio always stays up late, surviving on coffee and energy drinks. Ivo hates energy drinks. The only thing he drinks is iced coffee. The dorm room is messy and disarrayed, with clothing and clutter all over the floor, so that Ivo steps on it when he walks. Rio claims to be a witch. Ivo wishes he could see the details of his face. ¡°Hey, Four-Eyes. Miss me?¡± He knows he¡¯s hot, and this is infuriating.


    ¡°You wish, dipshit.¡± Rio thinks he¡¯s so cool, fitting in easily and never struggling with anything a day in his life. The guy even got a scholarship to college, spending his teenage years with doctors for parents while Ivo froze to death on the street. It isn¡¯t Rio¡¯s fault he¡¯s had an easy life. But it isn¡¯t fair. Life isn¡¯t fair, and Ivo isn¡¯t bitter.


    ¡°Uh huh. That¡¯s why you¡¯re looking at me like you want to jump my bones.¡±


    When he was fifteen, Ivo lost his virginity in a motel room, to a much older man, after meeting him online. The man was in his thirties, and made Ivo feel special by buying him gifts and taking him on vacations, but this was all a secret. He¡¯d sneak out to meet the man at secluded places, and Anika never caught on ¨C or perhaps she did, and simply didn¡¯t care. Ivo is old enough now to realize the truth behind this relationship. As a teenager, like all teenagers, he was just desperate for validation.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± His dick hurts. The cage is plastic and tight, and gets in the way when he tries to jerk off. This is the point of wearing it, but he¡¯s been frustrated for days, and it leaves him irritable. When Rio touches his arm, he nearly jumps out of his skin.


    ¡°Take off your clothes.¡± Rio whispers. His voice is always low and husky.


    Ivo began to question himself when he was thirteen. It was a long process, and Ivo remembers lying to himself for months, even years afterwards. Now he realizes how stupid that was. He supposes there had always been hints at his sexuality, from the time he was a little boy. He¡¯s always been into wolves. Still, he¡¯s never had a relationship: not a proper one, nothing outside of random hook-ups and make outs. Ivo has fucked a lot of people. If you called him a slut, he probably wouldn¡¯t disagree.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to tie you up.¡±


    Ivo could change his mind anytime. He could opt out altogether by saying one short word. He never does. He lets Rio do whatever he wants, and there¡¯s no reason why. He¡¯s annoying and pushy. Ivo trusts absolutely no one except for him. After tying a short black rope around Ivo¡¯s wrists, Rio touches his dick, holding the key to the cage in between two fingers. ¡°Are you ready to cum now, whore?¡± Knowing him, it isn¡¯t this easy.  ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve kept you waiting long enough.¡± Begging is humiliating. Humiliation is arousing, and there¡¯s no telling why. He hated Rio: his obnoxious laugh and aggravating attitude. He¡¯s shouted at him multiple times in frustration, and he always comes back. Nobody ever comes back.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    The living spaces are always loud. Everybody needs to be the center of attention. Rio  unlocks the cage, but doesn¡¯t remove it. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    Fuck him. He thinks he¡¯s a god. He has rough hands and muscular arms. His hair is loose, tickling Ivo¡¯s face. ¡°You know what I want, asshole.¡± He squirms, feeling rope around his arms. It¡¯s not too tight. He could slip his hands out if he tried.


    ¡°Do I?¡± The cage is made of plastic, and it¡¯s a relief when it¡¯s taken away. Rio is very close, touching Ivo lightly with his fingers, making him shiver. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I do. Tell me.¡± Rio always leaves him desperate for more. He¡¯ll never say this out loud. He can¡¯t stand the guy. If he suddenly went missing, Ivo might spend a brief moment or two wondering where he¡¯d gone.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    At the beginning of their relationship, Rio told Ivo about being polyamorous, and what this entailed. He won¡¯t date anyone else without Ivo¡¯s consent, but he¡¯s always open to meeting new people. Ivo doesn¡¯t give a fuck what Rio does. Most of the time, he¡¯d prefer it if he¡¯d leave him alone altogether.


    ¡°You¡¯re nothing but a cum dumpster, Flower.¡±


    There¡¯s no limits to the things Rio can call him. Ivo¡¯s never been good for anything outside of fucking and sucking. When Rio says nice things to him, he always starts an argument. Rio gives good head, but rarely does it. He¡¯s slow, and uses both halves of his split tongue to tease, making Ivo squirm and grumble. He isn¡¯t usually vocal. When you¡¯ve been pent up for weeks without release, it¡¯s hard to control yourself. He¡¯s not new to kink. Selling yourself on the streets teaches a person a few things.


    He wriggles, pushing himself further into Rio¡¯s mouth, rope digging into his wrists. He¡¯s greedy, throwing his legs over the man¡¯s shoulders, spilling into his mouth with a groan. He never groans. Rio never stops. He leaves Ivo horny for weeks, and then torments him. There¡¯s a thunderstorm. Rio is unforgiving: forcing him to cum over and over again, until he twitches and writhes at the simplest of touches.


    Ivo never speaks kindly, even when he says kind words, which isn¡¯t often. Aspen used to ask why he was so serious all the time, or why he got so worked up over a joke or a prank. Jokes are often more than jokes. People will use your feelings to control you. If you don¡¯t show emotion, nothing can be used against you.


    He¡¯s sticky, warm, tired, but unwilling to sleep. Rio is very close.


    ¡°He used drugs because of you, you know.¡±


    Everyone knows Anika never gave a fuck about her siblings. When Ivo did something she was particularly displeased with, she¡¯d act like a martyr. It was as if blaming Ivo for his father¡¯s addiction made Anika feel better about being such a shitty mother. Maybe it didn¡¯t matter. Shitty parents always think they¡¯re perfect. When Anika was angry with him, she¡¯d tell him he made his father miserable, expecting it to hurt his feelings. Nothing can hurt Ivo¡¯s feelings. Nothing means anything until you let it. Nobody ever expects a teenager to stand up for themselves.


    ¡°All your children hate you, you know. Your husband is old, and you¡¯ve pushed all your kids away, and you¡¯re going to die alone.¡±


    There was never a time in Ivo¡¯s life where he didn¡¯t have a comeback. It¡¯s expected for an adult to say mean things to their children under the guise of tough love. It¡¯s always disrespectful for a child to stand up for themselves.


    ¡°You really are pretty, you know that?¡±


    Rio grumbles in his ear. Ivo hates aftercare.


    ¡°I¡¯m going home.¡±


    It¡¯s beginning to get late. Aside from the fuzzy streetlights outside the school, everything is dark. Rio always follows him: aggravating, thinking everyone is obsessed with him. ¡°Why do you get so upset when I compliment you?¡± He¡¯s the reason it¡¯s better to self-isolate. He¡¯s a good fuck, sure, but there¡¯s no other reason to hang around.


    ¡°Why are you so obsessed with me? You follow me everywhere I go, like a pathetic lost puppy desperate to be loved.¡± There¡¯s not a lot of traffic at this time of night. ¡°Leave me alone. I don¡¯t want to see you anymore.¡± Nobody can tell when Ivo¡¯s lying. Half the time, he can¡¯t even tell, himself. He means nothing. He¡¯s been called pretty before, and it never meant anything.


    He always knows when a vehicle is coming. When the street is clear and nobody is approaching, he steps off the sidewalk - and it comes out of nowhere, and sends him flying.

 XXVII. (what i wish just one person would understand).

    Sometimes, being around Bellamy is confusing. Sometimes, she lashes out at Ciel unexpectedly, shouting at him to leave her alone or to stop asking so many questions. Sometimes she goes to take a nap and returns with no recollection of what she¡¯d done before that. There are notes scattered around the house, and drawings that look like they were drawn by children, and flowers pressed into scrapbook pages. She always wears thick makeup, saying she¡¯s insecure about what her skin looks like without it.


    Healing doesn¡¯t happen overnight. Healing happens in stages, but pain doesn¡¯t really go away. This is the biggest thing Ciel learned in treatment. During his marriage, there were several times when Maria contemplated divorce. He hates talking about this. Bellamy knows about the compulsive gambling that drove him into debt. Bellamy knows a lot about his past: but she assumes he¡¯s divorced, and while this isn¡¯t technically true, he hasn¡¯t yet cleared things up.


    Earlier this week, Bellamy told him about her dissociative disorder, and worried he¡¯d leave her because of it. There¡¯s a lot to understand about her. There¡¯s a lot she doesn¡¯t understand about herself.


    It feels strange and unpleasant to stand in Calypso¡¯s empty room. The purging was difficult and cathartic, and left him very tired. The hardest part of getting over grief is understanding that those who die stay with us, and getting rid of their remaining belongings will not get rid of them. It feels like it will. No matter how hard he tries, he can¡¯t hold onto Calypso forever.


    After leaving work, he drives to the address Bellamy texted him. It¡¯s her older brother¡¯s house. She spends a lot of time here. Her youngest brother is turning fifteen, and so everyone is here, and Ciel is expected to say hello and introduce himself. It¡¯s been a while since he was nervous to meet a woman¡¯s family. From what Bellamy says, Indy is protective, and doesn¡¯t hide his distaste of people he doesn¡¯t trust. He¡¯s twenty nine years old and has a baby son. It¡¯s been over two years since the accident. For a very long time afterwards, Ciel despised anyone whose children were near Calypso¡¯s age.


    ¡°Hi, Ciel.¡±


    Indy looks a lot like his sister. They have the same face shape, and the same nose. He¡¯s not unfriendly, but doesn¡¯t offer trust easily when it comes to his siblings¡¯ partners. ¡°Come in,¡± he says, and shuts the door behind them. Ciel removes his shoes; Indy shouts into the living room. ¡°Guys! Bell¡¯s boyfriend is here!¡± Most people would say discussing new relationships is important. It¡¯s important to make sure you¡¯re both on the same page, and all that. Bellamy says she needs to practice communicating, and wants to do it with him. She hugs him tightly, and he wonders if it¡¯s really her.


    All of Bellamy¡¯s brothers look alike. With red hair and bright purple clothing, she stands out like a sore thumb. There¡¯s a woman here with pink hair: darker than Ciel¡¯s, who smiles at him when he enters the room. ¡°Cool hair. Good choice of color. I¡¯m Lexa, Luca¡¯s girlfriend.¡±


    Last night, Ciel stayed up very late on the Internet. At Bellamy¡¯s suggestion, he spent hours researching all he could find about dissociative identities, and watching videos made specifically for educational purposes, and asking questions. She chats with her youngest brother, whose name Ciel can¡¯t remember. Indy¡¯s wife cooks something Japanese, juggling the baby on one hip as she does so.


    Akari¡¯s pregnant, Bellamy said the night before, I¡¯m going to have a new niece!


    ¡°Come here, pal.¡± Indy sweeps the baby out of Akari¡¯s arm, kissing his wife¡¯s head before leaving the room. Ciel knows almost nothing about Bellamy¡¯s brothers. He knows that Indy adopted her when she was a teenager, and not much else. He sits next to Ciel on the couch, holding the boy on his lap. ¡°What do you do for a living, Ciel?¡±


    This is always the first question people ask. When Ciel thinks about it, he realizes he doesn¡¯t know what Indy does, either. ¡°I¡¯m a tattoo artist.¡± He has a tattoo gun at home, too. Once or twice, he gave Maria a tattoo while the baby was asleep. ¡°I work at a shop near Fountainhead.¡±


    Bellamy says Riku is a year old. He¡¯s not very good at walking, and hobbles across the floor to her. She plays with him eagerly, watching Ciel and Indy make conversation. There have been a few times he wondered why Bellamy seemed so different. He wonders how often it isn¡¯t really Bellamy at all. She brought up a discussion, earlier, of their relationship in terms of other parts of her. There are child parts. There are deeply traumatized parts. Bellamy said she needed to discuss with him exactly what this meant. Ciel¡¯s birthday is a week from today. Bellamy insists on getting him a gift, even though he¡¯s told her it¡¯s not necessary. They¡¯ve been dating for two months. She has bad trust issues, but says she trusts him more every day, which is not something to take for granted.


    Over the course of the evening, he gets to know her brothers. Indy is mature and objective, and anxious about new people. Luca is playful and adventurous, but can be reckless and self-destructive due to a mood disorder. Asa is the most like Bellamy. He seems to cling to her: following closely behind when she walks, needing her opinion before making a decision. He¡¯s just a kid. He¡¯s younger than Aspen.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if your brother likes me much.¡±


    After leaving Indy¡¯s house, Ciel has plans with Bellamy. She¡¯s asked him to come over and watch a movie, and he loves getting to know her. ¡°You don¡¯t really have to worry about Indy.¡± Bellamy has deep scratches on her arms. Ciel  has never seen her without makeup. ¡°It¡¯s Nut you need to impress.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Nut?¡±


    ¡°One of our protectors.¡± Bellamy texts her brother a lot. It¡¯s hard to understand the idea of multiple identities living inside her head. It¡¯s overwhelming to think about having to form relationships with all of them individually. ¡°If Nut doesn¡¯t like you, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re going to have a good time.¡± Recently, Bellamy suggested Ciel come to therapy with her. This will help him understand her system better, and give him techniques to communicate more effectively. It¡¯s nothing against him, she says. Most people find it very hard to have a relationship with her. In the weeks since they began dating, Bellamy has opened up a bit. She has a troubled past that Ciel knows little about, but she confides in him about her fears and triggers. Or at least, someone does. ¡°Nut is social sometimes. I like to call him Onion Boy because he eats raw onions for snack.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Ciel is supposed to respect and accept every part of Bellamy. This is something she says is very important. Even if they¡¯re mean to you, she said, you have to be nice to them. They saved my life. They keep me safe. After unlocking her door and welcoming Ciel inside, Bellamy sits on a couch beside a small staircase. Everything is purple. He didn¡¯t know where she lived until today.  ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±


    Bellamy looks tired and timid. ¡°What is it? I want to show you our notebook. It will help you understand things better.¡± Her face is in her hands, muffling her voice. When she looks at him, she says nothing for a moment.


    ¡°Fuck, why are we always dressed in purple?¡±


    It isn¡¯t Bellamy. Ciel isn¡¯t quite sure who else it could be.


    ¡°You can stop looking at me like that. I¡¯m not going to hurt you, you know.¡±


    Bellamy doesn¡¯t curse. She¡¯s soft-spoken and timid, and whoever is speaking now is loud and forward. Ciel lights up a cigarette, rolling down his window. Some people hate the smell of cigarette smoke. Some people aren¡¯t bothered at all. ¡°Are you Nut?¡± It¡¯s a strange name. Ciel wonders where it came from.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Bellamy has deep green eyes. Even though Ciel has seen them almost every day for the past two months, they look unfamiliar. ¡°I¡¯m Ciel.¡± Bellamy¡¯s  written about him, she said, in their shared notebook. She says this is the easiest way to communicate. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡± It¡¯s strange. He looks at Bellamy and talks to Bellamy, but it isn¡¯t Bellamy. There¡¯s so much he has left to learn.


    Nut turns to pull a thick gray hoodie from between two couch cushions. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    When it comes to things like this, it¡¯s hard to figure out which questions are appropriate to ask, and which aren¡¯t. Bellamy says he can ask her anything. But when Bellamy is gone, is that still the case? ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡± There¡¯s a picture taped to the wall behind the couch.  It¡¯s a drawing of stick people, made in crayon, crinkled around the edges.


    If someone comes out to talk to you, don¡¯t ask to talk to someone else. My ex used to trigger parts out on purpose, just because he thought it was fun.


    Ciel doesn¡¯t know how long to expect to stay. Bellamy never gave him a timeline, and now she¡¯s gone somewhere, and may not be back tonight. His relationship with her will be different, she said. It will be like being in a relationship with multiple people at once. He¡¯s never done this before. He¡¯s not sure he can. ¡°Do you usually hide it from people?¡±


    Nut has better posture than Bellamy. He sits up straight, but folds his arms over his chest during conversation. ¡°That¡¯s the whole point. If we don¡¯t want you to know, you¡¯ll never fucking know.¡± Nut doesn¡¯t trust him. He speaks a bit aggressively. Building a relationship with one person is hard enough. It¡¯s possible Nut sees him as a threat: another outsider coming in to abuse and hurt their body. Maybe this is all he¡¯s come to expect from people.


    ¡°Can I see your notebook? Is that okay?¡±


    Something Ciel read while doing research was that different parts can have different opinions, and respecting all of their boundaries as a whole can be exhausting. It¡¯s probably more exhausting to exist inside a system than outside of it. Nut frowns. ¡°Some of us don¡¯t want to be known.¡± He stands, sauntering off to the kitchen, standing in front of the fridge.


    Ciel isn¡¯t as perceptive as he could be. Juno was so good at noticing things other people didn¡¯t. Before she got sick, she¡¯d remember things about people from years ago, things that no one else even remembered anymore. He often wondered what sorts of things she remembered about him.


    ¡°Do you want to draw a picture with me?¡±


    Bellamy¡¯s bed is covered with stuffed animals and art supplies. The house is very small. Despite this, it¡¯s organized well, and doesn¡¯t look crowded. There¡¯s a single bedroom on a loft above the kitchen, and a ladder leading up to it.  There¡¯s someone else using the body now. At least, Ciel thinks there is. They¡¯re smiling at him, a sweet smile that reminds him of Calypso. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Over time, Ciel might learn to tell people apart by how they act and speak. Bellamy says differences could be subtle, or they could be obvious. She says if he doesn¡¯t learn to pay attention, he could end up in some unpleasant situations.


    He knows the names of very few system members. He¡¯s taken in so much new information at once that he can¡¯t quite seem to turn his brain off. ¡°My name is Elara!¡± She seems to be a child: speaking in a sing-song voice, holding a stuffed dog. Even the way she stands seems childlike. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    Elara sits next to him on the couch, holding her stuffed dog on her lap, looking at him brightly. ¡°My name is Ciel. Do you like to draw?¡± He¡¯s not sure how he feels about kids. He loved Calypso. He wouldn¡¯t mind if Elara stayed around for a bit.


    She has the sweetest smile. There are crayons scattered across the table. ¡°I love drawing! But I usually draw by myself, because I¡¯m not really supposed to have friends.¡± This is something Ciel has never thought about. She stares into space for a moment, putting her face in her hands.¡°I¡¯m not supposed to talk to strangers,¡± says Elara, sheepishly.


    They draw: scattering the table with crayons and construction paper. It reminds him of drawing with Calypso. Elara talks a lot. Ciel needs to get himself a notebook, too. There¡¯s so much to remember. He doesn¡¯t know how long they draw. It¡¯s been a while since he¡¯s been out past sunset. He¡¯s getting too old to stay out late.


    ¡°I drew you a picture.¡±


    He isn¡¯t sure if he¡¯ll ever have a child again. Some people deserve a second chance. Ciel doesn¡¯t believe he¡¯s one of these people.


    ¡°You did?¡±


    The crayon-scribbled little girl looks like his daughter. The thing about most children is they trust too easily. Elara stares at him, clutching a stuffed animal in her hands, looking kind of sad. ¡°Are you going to leave us?¡±


    Most people can choose who to date. If Ciel chooses Bellamy, he chooses every part that comes with her, and this is an overwhelming thought to come to terms with. ¡°Why would I leave?¡±


    It¡¯s about to rain. Every hour, a clock in the living room chimes quietly.


    Alter is short for altered state of consciousness. Most children complete the development of their personality by the time they¡¯re nine years old. Sometimes, a personality is unable to integrate, leaving different states of consciousness and memory. Ciel wants to be accepting, understanding. He wants everybody to feel safe around him, and maybe this is too tall of an ask.


    ¡°Everyone leaves us.¡±


    When thunder cracks, Elara covers her ears. It rains heavily, leaving streaks down the window. He¡¯s not sure what to expect. When it comes to Bellamy, nothing is too much.

 XXVIII. Boiled Teeth.

    Humans have a tendency to take things for granted, but life can change so quickly.  It¡¯s so short, so unpredictable, and that makes it scary. Rio could go to sleep tonight, and not wake up tomorrow. Anybody could. This is why it¡¯s so important to spend all the time you can with people you love. Rio didn¡¯t really understand this fully until after Cassia was gone. The people you love are always there: until they¡¯re not. Since then, he¡¯s always tried to remember to put effort into counting his blessings.


    Outside, rain comes down in buckets. Rio sits in the hospital for an hour, and then two, and then three. He has many missed calls and unread texts - sometimes it¡¯s hard to be popular. The waiting room is filling up. It¡¯s the middle of the night.


    Three years ago, Rio¡¯s grandmother died of heart disease. She¡¯d been sick for a long time, but this didn¡¯t make her passing any easier. His grandmother, Fabiola, was a kind and doting woman, and loved to provide for her family and her community. He remembers standing in her hospital room after her death, listening to his father speak to the nurse. Since this occasion, Amani hasn¡¯t cried once.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay to cry when you¡¯re sad, Papa. Remember? That¡¯s what you say to us when we¡¯re sad.¡±


    Amani is a stoic and macho man. He dislikes being seen as incompetent, and struggles to express himself. His determination to teach his children emotional vulnerability was for his benefit just as much as it was for theirs. Surya, who was raised much differently than his husband, was always slightly better at the emotional aspect of things. Rio has cousins nearly twice his age. His aunt, Iksha, was a child bride in 1980, when she was fifteen years old. His uncle was forty years old at the time, and paid a type of dowry to her lower-class parents in exchange. There¡¯s a lot about Surya¡¯s past that Rio doesn¡¯t know.


    There was a drunk driver in the university parking lot. The roads are slick and wet, and alcohol gives many people false confidence. Rio likes drinking and speeding as much as the next guy, but he¡¯d never do both at once. He¡¯d watched from the sidewalk as a large van zoomed around the corner in front of the school, far too fast for the area. Ivo isn¡¯t very big, and he hit a lamp post hard. It wouldn¡¯t take much to knock him over. Like most car collisions, Rio would have missed it if he looked away for a split second.


    When they arrived at the hospital, Ivo was found to have internal bleeding in his chest, and was taken into surgery almost immediately. This was the most frightening part.


    In his free time, Rio has been studying Dutch. There¡¯s no reason for this except wanting to impress Ivo, which is odd in itself. Things certainly have changed in the past seven months. Usually, he¡¯d be long gone by now. He got a motorcycle license. It wasn¡¯t hard; he¡¯s a good driver. Maybe a bit reckless, sometimes, but he¡¯s never gotten into an accident, and he always watches out for other people.


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    The van had never stopped. It swerved out of the lot, tires slipping in the puddles on the pavement. At first, Rio suspected Four-Eyes was dead. After being tossed by the speed of the van¡¯s front end, he lay on the wet pavement in a strange position: with a badly bloody nose and deep scratches on his neck. He was disoriented: slipping in and out of consciousness, struggling to breathe. Rio¡¯s never been in an ambulance before. When the medics arrived, they brought a neck brace, which was large and bulky. They¡¯d said it was crucial to stabilize the spine after an injury like this, and they¡¯d praised him for not trying to help Ivo up. He¡¯d been allowed to sit in the back of the ambulance for the ride to the hospital, which was short and loud, and mostly consisted of trying to keep Ivo awake. This was very hard.


    Rio¡¯s hair is loose and tangled, falling limply into his face. He knows a bit about medical issues, and he¡¯s pretty good at staying calm under stress. This is something that took practice. When a nurse approaches, Rio sits up on the edge of his seat. It¡¯s the same nurse as before, the one who admitted Ivo to the operating room. He¡¯s dark, wearing a blue gown and a disposable mask. There were several crushed bones in Ivo¡¯s back and arms, and extensive damage to nerves around his spine and brain. It¡¯s hard to know, now, if his injuries will be severe. The doctor says, from the speed of being thrown through the air, and the force of slamming into a metal post, it¡¯s a wonder that Ivo has any feeling left at all. In the ICU, he¡¯s very bruised and tired, connected to a ventilator and several tubes. Shortly after arriving at the hospital, he stopped breathing and had to be resuscitated.


    On either side of the bed, nurses do tests using safety pins or feathers. They need to test sensory function, they say, to determine the extent of the injury. Ivo can¡¯t speak on a ventilator, or move his head under the weight of the brace; the nurses get answers from him via blinks. He can¡¯t feel his legs, fingers, stomach, hands, feet. That seems like a lot. This could change, the nurses say, once he recovers more. After this, they test muscle strength and motor function with another combination of tests.


    He¡¯s asleep. Rio has seen him sleep before, but he looks different today. There¡¯s no reason for him to be here. When Rio spends too much time around someone, he gets bored. Most humans are predictable, and he hates routine.


    Loki spoke to Rio for the first time when he was fourteen. He¡¯s a mischievous god, and certainly doesn¡¯t leave life boring. He¡¯ll send spiders, or hide important items, just to be a nuisance. Sometimes, Rio puts an object down, and finds it several days later in a completely different place. This type of relationship isn¡¯t for everyone, but it leaves his life exciting and unpredictable. Loki isn¡¯t a picky god. He enjoys sweet things: candy, alcohol, cookies, caramel apples. He¡¯s also fond of toys, and things relating to the sea, which Rio enjoys leaving on his altar. When in doubt, there¡¯s nothing like a good, hard liquor.


    Sage recently got an unrestricted license. In celebration, they plan on making the trip to Rio¡¯s to stay with him for the weekend. It¡¯s a five hour drive: a very long distance for their first solo trip. It¡¯s his fault they seldom see one another. Sage misses him. It¡¯s been a year or so since their last visit.


    The hospital room is cold and plain, one small bed in the middle of a melancholy room. After the nurses have finished checking in, they leave the boys alone. Rio sits beside the bed, his face close to Ivo¡¯s, speaking to him in low tones. He¡¯s alive, at least. Knowing this, Rio feels relief. No one really knows what life will look like from now on.

 XXIX. like serpents

    It''s exceptionally hard to market yourself. This is something Sage learned the hard way, after uploading some of their music onto social media without the help of an agent. The internet is filled with so many people trying to get recognized that it feels like a huge reality show: a competition to be the best. Maybe that''s sort of what it is. Sage''s music is good, but there are a lot of people who are better. It''s life, of course. You can''t be the best at everything.


    Sage always blesses their food before eating it. Their parents and Rio do this too.


    For Alaska, today isn''t very cold. Sage is bundled in their warmest coat and a pair of mittens, but they''re always cold. "Okay, I''m going to show you the new song I wrote, but you have to tell me if it sucks."


    Sage met Aspen on social media, after she messaged them about a song they recorded. They''re around the same age and enjoy the company of one another. Aspen knows Sage''s assigned sex. Nobody outside of their family knows this, but they trust her not to tell. "I''m sure it won''t. You''re good at writing songs." They stand in the foyer of Rio''s university; he and Sage had plans, and Aspen was invited to come along. She hasn''t met Sage''s family, and Sage hasn''t met hers - but they talk almost every day about many different things. Aspen confides in Sage about her post-traumatic stress and her struggles at school. Sage tells Aspen about their music and insecurities.


    Sage''s mandolin is an arch-top. They strum with a personalized plectrum designed for them by Rio. Sage is nervous, strumming and singing quietly, the oversized sleeves of their sweatshirt covering their fingers.


    Sage doesn''t go to school, and only works part time. Today, they drove more than five hours to pick up Aspen from school, and this was frightening due to never having met her in person before. Tonight, Sage is staying with Rio. He always stays up late. Sage doesn''t know their way around the university. They can''t go a day without oversized sweaters.


    "What are you doing with your brother?"


    Aspen is a lot shorter than Sage. She has an older brother too, who she lives with. Sage doesn¡¯t know much about him. ¡°I just haven¡¯t seen him in a while, and I got my license.¡± Aspen knows about their stutter, but it¡¯s different in person. No one ever knows what to expect. ¡°He said he¡¯s going to the hospital later.¡± Rio has had the same boyfriend for almost eight months. This may very well be the single most impressive thing he¡¯s ever done. Sage has heard of the boy, but never met him. Rio says he¡¯s not all that pleasant for most people to be around. It wasn¡¯t all that surprising. He¡¯s always obsessing over people who don¡¯t like him.


    Aspen is very feminine, and wears a lot of makeup. Though she''s more than a year younger than Sage, she acts like an older sibling. "Oh yeah, you said something about that. What happened, anyway? Something about his boyfriend?" Aspen''s straight. She tries to be open-minded, but makes Sage feel judged sometimes.


    It''s a very large university. Sage steps outside, crosses campus to the community buildings. "He got hit by a car and almost died." It''s loud, messy: clothing and food waste strewn all over the floor. Sage kicks over a pile of garbage with their foot. "It''s always a disaster in here." They pass a lot of men, roughhousing or playing video games. From what Sage knows about Aspen, she likes getting to know strangers.


    Aspen follows them through the long hallway. "How many people even live here?"


    ¡°I dunno.¡± Sage weaves through a crowd of people, nearly being knocked over by a rambunctious man. ¡°Like fifty. There are parties every weekend, but you¡¯re not allowed alcohol.¡± They bang on a door at the end of the hallway, across from another room that looks exactly the same. Then they walk inside the room, and frown. ¡°Have you ever considered cleaning your room?¡±


    It''s packed in here, disorganized, random things strewn everywhere. Compared to this, the family home is spotless. ¡°Jesus,¡± says Rio, wearing a braid, ¡°you sound like my boyfriend. Hi, Nerd.¡± He grins, tossing aside the jersey in his hands before tousling Sage''s hair. He knows they¡¯ve always hated that. He¡¯s been calling them names since childhood, and shouting at classmates who do the same. He has more piercings now, and longer hair. Sometimes, Sage is convinced he¡¯ll never cut it. ¡°How was your first solo road trip?¡±


    Aspen watches with a sort of puzzled look on her face. ¡°Kind of scary, but I made it.¡± It¡¯s fortunate that it hasn¡¯t snowed yet. If the roads weren¡¯t clear, Sage wouldn¡¯t have come. ¡°I brought my friend, Aspen.¡±


    Internet friends aren¡¯t real friends, said a classmate in high school, who used to taunt them regularly. You don¡¯t even know them. They could be some old, fat guy pretending to be a teenager. This is what Sage''s parents used to tell them, too. Nobody struggles to make friends in person, except Sage. Before meeting up with Aspen, they video called briefly to confirm identities. She¡¯s staring at Rio, like everyone does. Sage can¡¯t be friends with girls without them crushing on him.


    ¡°I know you.¡±


    Rio is too friendly. Everybody always thinks he¡¯s flirting with them. ¡°Do you?¡± He meets a lot of people, and isn¡¯t good with names. Unless you make a remarkable impression on him, it¡¯s likely he won¡¯t recognize you from anyone else in a crowd.


    There are too many people here. Sage tugs their sweater sleeves down over their hands. Aspen shakes her head furiously. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you at my house, in the backyard. You picked up my cousin.¡± She frowns, removing her large backpack, dropping it on the floor. ¡°Didn¡¯t you? Was it someone else?¡±


    Sage realizes they don¡¯t know the name of any of Aspen¡¯s family. ¡°Who¡¯s your cousin? You never told me their name.¡± It¡¯s a big city. The chance of Sage unknowingly befriending a relative of their brother¡¯s partner is probably slim. It¡¯s strange that this is something they haven¡¯t spoken about.


    Aspen shrugs. ¡°Ivo.¡±


    Rio¡¯s fraternity house is called Phi Delta Gamma. His room is large and overcrowded with things he doesn¡¯t even use, but won¡¯t get rid of. Sage has no idea why people like him so much; he¡¯s an idiot, and he thinks he¡¯s cool. Sage knows Rio¡¯s friends ask about their identity. Everyone has an opinion. It¡¯s difficult for most people to wrap their heads around the idea of a person without a gender. Everything in society is made up: virginity, gender, culture, fashion, words, names, roles. For Sage, it¡¯s become pretty much common knowledge that people only want labels to make themselves feel comfortable, even if it has nothing to do with them. Most people feel like a boy, or a girl, or a combination of both ¨C but it¡¯s not like that for Sage. They¡¯re not a boy, or a girl, or even both at different times. They¡¯re just a person.


    There are posters on the walls containing athletes: ripped men with no shirts and women in leggings with big asses. Society is obsessed with sex. Everything revolves around it, even something as arbitrary as the color of a woman¡¯s lipstick. But what if you don¡¯t like sex, or you put up with it only out of obligation? What if, like Sage, you¡¯ve never had a moment of sexual attraction in your life? It feels so invalidating, sometimes, like the whole of Sage''s identity is being erased, and they know that sounds silly. Guys like Rio, who workout avidly and sleep with anything that moves, they¡¯re the cool ones. Sometimes Sage wonders about everybody else.


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    ¡°Sage,¡± says Rio, looking at something on his phone, ¡°How come you never told me your new best friend was Ivo¡¯s cousin?¡±


    Aspen paces. Sage shrugs. ¡°I guess we just didn¡¯t talk about our families.¡±


    ¡°Where are you from?¡± People will stop to ask Rio this, while he and Sage are out minding their own business. ¡°You speak English so well. You must have lived here a while.¡±


    Every time he receives questions like this, Rio just smiles. ¡°I¡¯m from Florida.¡± He¡¯s gracious. He sounds like every other man from Miami. Sage isn¡¯t bilingual. Most people assume they are. Aspen knows little about their faith, as it¡¯s mandatory to get the permission of a High Priest or Priestess before sharing any information with outsiders about a coven.


    Aspen hasn¡¯t heard what happened. Apparently, Ivo doesn¡¯t keep in touch with family when he isn¡¯t home. On the way to the hospital, Rio fills her in.


    Hospitals are nothing like they seem in movies. They¡¯re eerie, and they smell too clean. Sage is lucky to be healthy, and to have spent all of their life avoiding long-term hospital stays. It¡¯s easy to tell when Aspen¡¯s upset. Everything she feels appears on her face. Despite her short stature, she catches up to Rio easily in the hospital corridor, and keeps in step with him.


    ¡°How long has he been here? I never heard.¡±


    Sage doesn¡¯t know how she would have. It¡¯s only been a couple days. It¡¯s cold. Hospitals are always cold.


    ¡°Honestly,¡± says Sage, as they sit at a table outside the hospital caf¨¦, ¡°How have we been talking all this time, and I never knew your cousin is dating my brother?¡± Sage knows about Aspen¡¯s abusive ex-boyfriend, and her older sister, and her struggle to make friends - and, although the girl speaks about her family sometimes, she never mentioned names.


    Aspen¡¯s family doesn¡¯t seem to check in when she¡¯s away. She says they don¡¯t really care about her. ¡°I guess your brother¡¯s the only one in the entire world who can stand to be around him. Ivo hates everyone.¡±


    Aspen wants to visit. Sage is startled by the sudden footsteps of a nurse going by. ¡°I mean, I like Rio and all, but he¡¯s not exactly the commitment type. He¡¯s never dated anybody more than three months, and even that is pushing it.¡± Sage looks up, placing the caf¨¦ sandwich back onto its wrapper. ¡°Do you ever feel like everyone else has their lives figured out except for you?¡±


    Who doesn¡¯t? Even as a teen, it¡¯s an overwhelming feeling. ¡°Yeah. Like, every day.¡± You¡¯re supposed to have everything figured out, to know exactly what you want to do with your life by the time you graduate high school. You¡¯re supposed to love what you do, but also get a job that pays enough money, and still have time for yourself outside of work. It seems impossible. It seems like everyone has their lives figured out except for Sage.


    Upstairs in Ivo¡¯s hospital room, he¡¯s propped up underneath many blankets. He has eyes that always look sad and tired. Sage feels out of place.


    Sage''s fan base has grown since they began uploading music. Some people are rude, and track down their account just to leave hateful comments or to insult them for their identity. This bothers Sage. It isn¡¯t important, what these types of people say, but Sage hates being disliked. They imagine most people do. But Amani says to block the posters, and to try and forget about them. All that¡¯s important, he likes to say, is the people who love you.


    Ivo didn¡¯t break his neck, despite it seeming this way at first. Rio says he wakes up in the middle of the night and can¡¯t feel his limbs, or complains of burning and pain spreading through his hands and feet. Sage has never been a patient in a hospital. Rio looks at Ivo in a way he¡¯s never looked at anyone else.


    After leaving the hospital, Aspen gets dropped off at her brother¡¯s house, where she promises to hang out with Sage again before they return home. Rio stops at a liquor store before returning to the university living units. Sage isn¡¯t particularly fond of the taste of beer. They want to drink it, and to bond with their brother; he¡¯s never around anymore. Maybe, they¡¯ll get used to the taste eventually. ¡°Want to go play GameCube?¡± There¡¯s a console in Rio¡¯s dorm, which he brought with him from the cabin when he moved out. When he lived at home, Sage played with him every weekend.


    Their favorite game to play together was always Legend of Zelda, though Sage was never very good at it. Still, they much prefer games like this to shooting or huge multiplayer games. Where Rio is competitive and aggressive, Sage is not. Nearly as tall as him, they¡¯re finished growing now, and stand at five foot ten, the shortest in their family. ¡°Have you been spending a lot of time at the hospital?¡± Sage asks, kicking open the door with their foot, taking a beer from the mini fridge by the bed.


    Rio has been growing his hair for eight years. When it¡¯s loose, it reaches almost the bottom of his ribs. ¡°Yep. I practically live there now.¡± He sighs, picking up a controller and sitting against the wall. At home, Sage has several pieces of their brother¡¯s clothing, stuff he didn¡¯t want anymore. They used to argue a lot, and it got on their fathers¡¯ nerves.


    There¡¯s a party tonight. If Sage hadn¡¯t come to visit, Rio would probably be at it. ¡°Why?¡± They have a text from their father, checking in. He does this a lot. ¡°Why do you like Ivo so much, anyway? You would usually have gotten bored months ago.¡±


    Sometimes, Sage wonders if their brother will get offended at being reminded how much of a player he is. They know him pretty well. He¡¯s not an easy person to offend. ¡°God,¡± he says, as a game loads on his television screen, ¡°I wish I knew.¡±


    For a while after this, they play without conversation: except the occasional argument about who may have cheated. After finishing his drink and placing the empty can on Sage''s bedside shelf, Rio puts down his controller. ¡°Can I tell you something?¡±


    Sage puts theirs down, too. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    There¡¯s a pause. ¡°I think I kinda wanna get married.¡±


    This is an absurd thing for Rio to say. Mostly out of surprise, Sage laughs sharply, looking at him. ¡°What? Like a pity marriage or something?¡± It sounds bad after they say it, but Rio smiles.


    ¡°No, but I can see why you¡¯d think that.¡± He removes his ponytail, shakes out his hair, which is very frizzy. ¡°I¡¯m serious, though, it¡¯s weird. I don¡¯t know why I¡¯d ever want to do that.¡± Sage doesn¡¯t know, either. People can evolve, of course, and change their minds, but this is so unlike Rio. He¡¯s never seemed like the type to get married.


    Sage narrows their eyes. ¡°Who are you? Did somebody clone my brother and make him monogamous?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Rio punches them in the shoulder. ¡°Also, still hate monogamy. You can date around while being married, you know.¡±


    ¡°I guess.¡±


    Outside, somebody drives a motorcycle. Sage is scared of motorcycles. ¡°Well, why do you want to get married, then? Are you in love, Rio?¡± They say this to tease him, mostly. Maybe their brother can evolve, after all. Stranger things have happened.


    He shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡± Sage is skeptical, as well as amazed. What¡¯s gotten into him lately? ¡°Who is this kid, and what has he done to you? And what makes you think he¡¯ll want to marry you?¡± They began the conversation casually, but are fully invested now. Usually, Sage isn¡¯t this talkative. Alcohol makes their stutter much worse. After taking another can from the fridge, Rio shakes his head at them.


    ¡°Sage, have you met me? Everyone wants to marry me. There are hundreds of people texting me right now asking where I am.¡± He¡¯s obsessed with himself. He was always like this. Sage always thought their parents praised him too much during childhood.


    ¡°You wish, Casanova.¡±


    It¡¯s late. At home, Sage rarely ever stays up past midnight. Rio picks up the controller again, turns the game back on. ¡°Come on, Dork,¡± He tosses a controller at Sage, who fumbles it. ¡°Let¡¯s keep playing."

 XXX. The Good Die Young [And The Bad Never Die At All]

    It¡¯s raining. Despite this, it¡¯s warm and humid, and makes Juno feel sticky with sweat. Before waking up from her supposed coma, she underwent another brain surgery, which removed ninety nine percent of her remaining tumor. This is what the nurses say, anyway. Before leaving the hospital, she was given an MRI of the brain, and everyone acted as though she¡¯d just come back from the dead. Maybe she had.


    Juno has no idea where she is. The house she woke up in is unfamiliar and doesn¡¯t feel like home. Still drowsy from her long sleep, Juno isn¡¯t really sure she knows where home is. On a chair in front of a computer desk, a young woman with albinism runs her fingers down a page.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    In the days immediately after waking up, Juno remembered little about herself. When she¡¯s alone in this large, unfamiliar home, she spends most of her time thinking about her past. She remembers her siblings, and her parents. None of them have been around since she came home. The night before, she heard a very loud whispered argument from the basement living room. This morning, the atmosphere seems very tense.


    The woman looks familiar, even though Juno could swear she¡¯s never seen her before. ¡°My name is Joke.¡± She has a monotone voice, and doesn¡¯t look up when she speaks. She doesn¡¯t ever speak unless spoken to first.


    ¡°Where am I?¡±


    It¡¯s hard to be certain of a lot of things. Juno remembers dying. Yet here she is, standing on a cold wooden floor, inside a house she¡¯s never seen before. The strangest thing of all is that nobody has said anything at all about this. ¡°You¡¯re home. Didn¡¯t you get enough sleep?¡± She¡¯s dead, surely, in some sort of strange afterlife. Aspen used to talk about parallel universes. Up until now, Juno always thought they were laughable.


    You really think you can just take a wrong turn, or go a different route, and end up in a completely different universe. That¡¯s the stupidest thing I¡¯ve ever heard.


    Figures. You can believe in an imaginary man in the sky who supposedly controls everything, but you think parallel universes sound stupid.


    There¡¯s a brunette woman who looks nothing like Joke. She smiles brightly at Juno, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She¡¯s a woman Juno is supposed to know, but doesn¡¯t. After four months of growth, her hair has gotten thick and dark on the top of her head. ¡°Good morning, Juno,¡± says the woman; her voice doesn¡¯t match her face. ¡°I thought we¡¯d go out today to celebrate your good health.¡±


    It¡¯s raining. Nothing makes sense - least of all, Juno¡¯s apparent health. She survived, maybe, in some sort of alternate world, in a place she¡¯s remembered, but has no memory of. She¡¯s heard of out-of-body experiences. Everyone says they leave your life completely changed, and not always for the better.


    ¡°My good health?¡±


    When Juno woke up, this woman was the first person she saw. She has very few belongings on her, aside from some clothing and a phone - but her phone has been reset, and contains nothing. There are children in the kitchen: a boy and a girl, years younger than Juno. They¡¯re the woman¡¯s children, probably. They both look like her. There are photos of Juno on the wall.


    She doesn¡¯t know the woman¡¯s name. She pours a cup of coffee, speaking without looking up from the counter. ¡°Your tumor is gone! You survived your coma with very minimal brain damage. Somebody is watching out for you.¡±


    The kids stare at her. In her baggy pajamas, Juno feels self-conscious. Being bald made her feel empowered. There¡¯s got to be an electric razor somewhere in the house. ¡°Are you Verena?¡±


    Are you scared to die? Do you think it will hurt?


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    I used to be. The thought used to keep me up at night. Now I think it will be a relief. It will be just like falling asleep.


    Juno¡¯s mother had a complicated relationship with her siblings. She says little about them, but Juno remembers bits and pieces from stories she¡¯s told. Verena is the oldest of her siblings, forced to be responsible and mature while her younger sister was doted on. Verena was always jealous, Anika said, of her family and her success. Anika is not really successful at all. She married a man far too old for her, claiming his wealth and success, pretending that this made her accomplished. Lots of people marry for money. Juno used to think her parents loved each other. Growing up means realizing that parents have secrets, too.


    The youngest children listen in from where they play in the living room. Juno will never have kids.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been through a very traumatic event. I¡¯d expect you to have a little amnesia. The doctors said it will go away in time.¡± If the woman is Verena, she doesn¡¯t acknowledge it. It¡¯s foolish to believe this, anyway: that Juno could have been taken to the other side of the world without anyone knowing. She¡¯s very tired, and can¡¯t be certain her memories are trustworthy. It¡¯s like she was told after waking up. She may misremember things for a few weeks. She may have a memory or two that never returns. ¡°Now come on!¡± The woman claps her hands together, smiling at Juno, waving her daughters upstairs. ¡°We¡¯re going to have a girl¡¯s day!¡±


    It¡¯s far too early to be this perky. Juno never finished university, and doesn¡¯t remember the month or her age.


    What do you think happens after you die?


    Before their relationship became strained, Aspen used to ask her this. Both were raised the same way, but became so different. Aspen reminds Juno of their mother. Perhaps this is why the two got along so well.


    I used to think you go to Heaven after you die, and spend the rest of eternity in a paradise. I¡¯m not sure if I believe that anymore.


    It¡¯s human nature to question your existence. Until she got sick, Juno never thought about her mortality. It was always assumed that she¡¯d be healthy and grow old, the way her grandparents did. When she was eighteen and lying in a hospital bed, her whole life flashed before her eyes.


    Juno has lived in the same neighborhood all of her life. It never seemed this big or noisy. She never felt this anxious walking out the front door. The neighborhood is unfamiliar, and so are the people in it. She must have been told, as a child, not to talk to strangers. Most children are told this, but Juno has no recollection of such conversation. When the brunette woman holds open the car door for her, Juno¡¯s feet freeze on the sidewalk.


    ¡°Am I dead?¡± Humanity is strange. Juno feels solid and whole, but can¡¯t quite tell if she¡¯s real. It¡¯s raining. It sounds very noisy in her ears.


    Joke has pale blue eyes that look transparent. Juno has seen eyes just like hers before. ¡°No, Juno.¡± She should get in the car. There¡¯s no telling where she might end up. ¡°You¡¯re very much alive - and you¡¯ll be that way for a while.¡± She¡¯s got a pounding headache. When it rains, it pours.


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    There was once a big open field, filled with nothing but grass and trees, always lit up by the sun, even in the night. It was tall, green grass, thick enough to get lost inside. Juno explored the field for hours, looking for a familiar face, but nobody else was there. Despite this, it wasn¡¯t an eerie place, and it never got lonely. Juno wandered and wandered, and even after days, there was no evidence she¡¯d gone anywhere different at all. There was no telling how long she wandered. It seemed like very little time, but it may have been months, or it may have been hours. One day, the sun shone brighter than it had before, and people appeared inside the field, replacing the vast, endless space. And when Juno opened her eyes, the field was no longer anywhere to be found at all.


    Rain pounds on the sidewalk. The woman is speaking to her.


    ¡°How do I know you¡¯re alive? I¡¯m talking to you. I¡¯m looking at you. I could even touch you if I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re dead, too.¡± Joke looks outside the window. Juno wonders what she can see, and what she can hear. Juno frustrates others. This is all she¡¯s good at. ¡°I remember dying.¡± It didn¡¯t hurt. Living was the only thing that hurt.


    There¡¯s a dog looking out the front window, its paws on the windowsill. It¡¯s the same dog Juno saw earlier: white, with floppy ears and long legs. It seems to be Joke¡¯s dog. Sometimes, it brings things to her.


    The car door shuts; Juno won¡¯t step inside. She doesn¡¯t have a reason for this. Maybe it would be good to get out and get her mind off the past. Maybe this isn¡¯t as easy as it sounds. The rain soaks through her clothes, making her cold. Home might be a hundred years away.

 XXXI. Chalk-Colored Cheeks.

    Doutzen has been clog dancing since childhood. Her interest began when Beatrix joined a clog dancing group with some friends, and Doutzen felt left out. Marit says, from the time she was a toddler, Doutzen loved to be the center of attention. She remembers fighting with her sister for their mother¡¯s attention during childhood, and feeling inferior to her all through adolescence.


    Timo always knew Doutzen was adopted. When he was younger, he argued with his parents a lot about it, and Doutzen never knew what was going on. He used to torment her about this endlessly: shouting at her through closed doors, sending her text messages in the middle of the day. Mom and Dad love me more than you, he¡¯d say, you¡¯re not their real child. Mom found you in a dumpster, which is where you belong.


    Siblings bully one another. Timo bullies both of his sisters in different ways. Despite this, he¡¯d never be okay with someone else bullying them, too.


    It¡¯s almost the holidays, and Doutzen looks forward to time off from school. It¡¯s snowing, and Timo isn¡¯t afraid of driving in bad weather. When it snows, it never stays long enough to make a difference. Doutzen sits in the back of his car on the way to Amsterdam, where she¡¯s meeting her best friends for a clog dancing event. She recently turned seventeen, and is finally old enough to drive with supervision - though she isn¡¯t very good, and panics behind the wheel. Timo teases her about this. It seems the only job of an older brother is to teach you to deal with bullies. In the front seat, Beatrix listens to music on her phone, keeping to herself.


    Since speaking to Saskia, Doutzen has been trying to get in contact with her biological mother. She¡¯s curious to know the woman: to put a face to her name, to hear her life story. She¡¯s curious to know if Lina ever wonders about the baby she abandoned. A while ago, Doutzen learned from Aspen about her biological father - a man she¡¯ll never meet, and always mourn. It¡¯s odd to miss a person you¡¯ve never met. She knows little more about Pim than his name and his drug addiction. Marit is not the type of woman to say I told you so. Doutzen can never forget the truth about people.


    ¡°Do you think Ivo will ever agree to meet me?¡± she asked Aspen once, after they¡¯d gotten to know each other. ¡°Does he even know about me?¡±


    She and Aspen don¡¯t speak a lot. They¡¯re half-cousins, and both enjoy talking about themselves rather than other people. She¡¯s questioned the girl about her brother, desperate to find out anything more than just his name, but terrified that he¡¯ll be just like his father. Once or twice, Doutzen has considered herself  lucky to have been adopted. Pim was a neglectful man, and Lina can¡¯t trust herself around a child.


    Aspen never takes a long time to respond. Even in the middle of the night, she never makes Doutzen wait for a message. ¡°To be honest,¡± she¡¯d said in response, ¡°he¡¯ll probably hate you more than anyone.¡± There are lots of reasons why someone might be hostile. Marit always says the most hateful people are in need of the most kindness. It¡¯s hard to be kind to those who are mean to you. Kill people with kindness, Marit will say, like it¡¯s something anyone can do.


    It¡¯s Thanksgiving Day in America. This is what Aspen says in the message she sends; it¡¯s the middle of the night. Doutzen wants to know about her brother: everything there is to know, even though they¡¯ll likely never meet. Aspen says he knows of her existence, but cares very little about other people, and will most likely never speak to her. Doutzen hates this, but has no choice but to come to terms with it.


    ¡°Hey, ugly! We¡¯re here.¡±


    Recently, Timo got engaged. Now all of his free time is consumed with wedding planning and house hunting. He looks in the mirror, parked in the lot outside the theater, where there¡¯s often events for tourists and locals alike. Doutzen sometimes performs dance on a stage, or watches theater performances with her friends.


    ¡°Are you talking to yourself again?¡±


    Anouk is Doutzen¡¯s best friend from school. She waits inside the theater, protected from the cold weather and the snow. Her wooden clogs are decorated with paintings of flowers and birds. Though she and her sister wear the same size shoes, Beatrix always refuses to share. Outside the theater, a boy with brown hair smiles at Doutzen as she passes. He¡¯s cute. Beatrix jabs a pointy elbow into her sister¡¯s waist.


    ¡°Excuse me, are you Doutzen?¡±


    Amsterdam is always very crowded, regardless of the time of year. Doutzen would love to live here, and befriend all the tourists. There¡¯s a girl in front of her, alone, who seems to have weaved her way through the crowd to be seen. She looks tired, and she has a voice that sounds familiar. There isn¡¯t much time to hang around. Anouk, who stands at Doutzen¡¯s side with her own pair of clogs, gives her a look before wandering off.


    ¡°That¡¯s me!¡± It¡¯s noisy. Doutzen loves the noise, and the people. She loves anything that gives others a reason to pay attention to her. She begins to walk, and gestures for the girl to follow. She¡¯s thin, and has very short, fuzzy hair.


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    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to bother you.¡± It¡¯s strange to be alone at the theater. Nearly everyone comes with a friend or two. ¡°It¡¯s me, Juno. I need to talk to you.¡±


    I¡¯m dying, her cousin said, during their last conversation. It¡¯s very expensive to make calls to America. I might be dead before you even come visit.


    ¡°Juno.¡±


    Life is strange. Months ago, Doutzen spoke to Juno about meeting up when she came to America. Weeks later, she heard from Aspen that Juno had died. She looks healthy and tall, and walks in pace beside Doutzen. ¡°I thought you were dead.¡± Maybe this isn¡¯t the best way to start a conversation. Doutzen doesn¡¯t care much for technicalities. If it weren¡¯t for Timo¡¯s last-minute stops, they¡¯d have been at the theater much earlier - and Doutzen would have preferred this. She¡¯s dancing in fifteen minutes, and has too many questions.


    Juno looks pained. She has to speak very loudly to be heard. ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to talk to you about.¡± She has no cell phone or bag, and acts bewildered at the bigness of the theater. ¡°I think I might have been abducted.¡±


    When Doutzen first found out about her adoption, she was confused and upset - both at her biological parents for abandoning her, and her adoptive parents for keeping it a secret. Of course, like anything else, she came to terms with it. Marit is a confident woman, but she¡¯d probably be lying if she said she wasn¡¯t at least a little nervous for Doutzen to look for biological family. No one wants to be replaced. No one wants to be rejected, either.


    ¡°What?¡±


    They sit on the bench at the side of the stage. Juno¡¯s words are unexpected and abrupt. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    It is very strange that Juno isn¡¯t dead. It¡¯s a relief: but it doesn¡¯t make sense. It¡¯s very unlikely to survive a brain tumor. Juno looks nothing like Doutzen expected her to. ¡°Do you know Verena?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Juno shrugs, uncomfortable. ¡°I think she abducted me.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Doutzen¡¯s sister wonders where she is. She¡¯s a girl who likes to talk, and could easily miss her performance by talking with Juno. ¡°I was in a coma,¡± says Juno, clasping her hands together. ¡°I still don¡¯t really remember it.¡± Off to the side of the stage, it¡¯s slightly quieter. ¡°But I woke up in a hospital where everyone spoke a different language, and I went to a house where I didn¡¯t know anyone, and everyone said that was where I lived.¡±


    Doutzen met her aunt only once, briefly. She seemed like a nice woman. ¡°Why would Verena abduct you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Despite their frequent, past conversations, there¡¯s a lot Doutzen doesn¡¯t know about her cousin¡¯s past. She¡¯s a few years older than Doutzen, and was most disappointed about the idea of dying before finishing university. Perhaps she¡¯s changed her mind about going to school. Perhaps, like Doutzen, she¡¯s confused about what the future holds.


    It¡¯s nearly time to go.  Though Doutzen wonders how Juno knew she was here, she doesn¡¯t ask. ¡°I have to go onstage soon. Do you want to go back to America?¡± Juno¡¯s city is much smaller and colder, but it probably feels like home.  If Doutzen woke up in a strange city, surrounded by people who didn¡¯t speak her language, she would be scared, too. Juno has a sad look on her face. There has to be a way to help her get home.


    The brown-haired boy from before stands near the stage during Doutzen¡¯s dance. Her dances are never very long, but she¡¯s always tired afterward. In the middle of switching out shoes, she¡¯s approached by the boy, who¡¯s alone. Doutzen could never be alone. ¡°Hey,¡± says the boy, smiling brightly, drawing her attention. ¡°I¡¯m Schyler. I was watching your dance, and I thought you were really good.¡±


    At the age of fourteen, Doutzen had her first boyfriend - though it wasn¡¯t a serious relationship, and it didn¡¯t last long. She smiles, too. ¡°Thanks.¡± In a relationship, boys should make the first move. This tells Doutzen that they really like her, and aren¡¯t just agreeing to a date to be nice. ¡°Do you live in the city?¡± Timo waits for her. She can see his car outside the building; he never gets out when he waits. Doutzen is never in a rush, and always takes her time.


    Schyler is shorter than her. Doutzen always disliked being taller than the average teen. ¡°I do.¡± It seems someone is waiting for him, too. He doesn¡¯t seem to notice the boys waving him over. ¡°What about you?¡±


    There¡¯s so much to do in Amsterdam, and so many people to meet. When Doutzen moves out of her parents¡¯ house, she¡¯d love to move here. ¡°I¡¯m from Winschoten, but I come to the city a lot with my friends.¡± Her clogs hit one another as she walks, making a loud noise. ¡°I like it here.¡±


    Juno is gone. She seems to vanish into a crowd as fast as she appears. ¡°I¡¯d love to take you out to lunch next time you¡¯re here,¡± Schyler says, walking Doutzen to the doors, ignoring his friends as he does so. ¡°If that¡¯s okay with you, I mean.¡± She has a text from Timo. He¡¯s impatient, and hates waiting more than two minutes for her to come to the car. The funny thing is, Timo will keep people waiting for ages.


    Most boys don¡¯t give you a choice. Marit used to say boys bully you because they like you. This makes it difficult to see polite and gentlemanly people as anything more than suspicious. ¡°That¡¯s okay with me!¡±


    Marit isn¡¯t overprotective, and doesn¡¯t worry too much about her children dating. The way she sees it, getting hurt is a part of life children can¡¯t be protected from, and it needs to learn how to be dealt with from a young age. ¡°Can I have your number?¡±


    They speak outside the building. Even in the winter, it rarely falls below zero.


    Beatrix is already in the car. Timo rolls his eyes at Doutzen as she approaches. ¡°Stop torturing boys and hurry up.¡±


    Doutzen is a social person. ¡°Shut up,¡± she says, and shuts the door.

 XXXII. glazen vingers.

    Plato and Aristotle believed that the stars were entirely different from the four earthly elements: aether, or spirit, the material that fills the earth beyond the terrestrial sphere. The astral plane is the world of celestial spheres, crossed by the soul on the way to being born, or after death. It¡¯s believed to be populated with angels, souls, immaterial beings, which some people have witnessed during a near-death experience. The living can¡¯t access it, and the dead can¡¯t leave.


    You don¡¯t have to believe in ghosts. But if you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll never see them.


    ¡°How do you have green eyes if you¡¯re black? Black people can¡¯t have green eyes.¡±


    It¡¯s snowing. There¡¯s a white woman staring at Rio from across the parking lot, with a child next to her. Though he¡¯s always in the mood to socialize, some days he lacks the energy to educate other adults. People enjoy believing what they want, and live life serving their own ego. Rio has seen his parents talk kindly to unkind people. He shrugs. ¡°Anyone can have green eyes. Genetics are weird.¡± His father was born in Cameroon. There¡¯s no telling where his ancestors came from before this.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t see color,¡± says the woman, holding the child¡¯s hand a little too tightly for this to be believable. ¡°My neighbor is black, and I hang out with her all the time.¡±


    Rio was taught how to handle microaggressions from the time he was old enough to experience them. It rarely makes a difference. Most of the time he doesn¡¯t bother with a response - because people don¡¯t like to be told they¡¯re wrong, and people believe what they want. Some people try very hard to be supportive, and just don¡¯t know how. When he was growing up, his fathers would spend hours cooking and preparing school lunches, until the whole house smelled like cinnamon and spice. He¡¯d eat things like rasam and ndole for lunch, never minding the looks he got from other students. There¡¯s no such thing as bad publicity, as they say. Sage would disagree.


    He¡¯s been vegetarian for six years. It saves money, and it eases his conscience. After a while, you don¡¯t even remember what animals taste like.


    Every year at Yule, Rio meets with the coven. This year, he has plans to return home. The Wheel of The Year revolves around the Horned God and the Triple Goddess. The God is born from the Goddess at Yule, grows powerful during spring solstice, courts and impregnates the Goddess at Beltane, wanes in power at Lammas, and passes into the underworld during Samhain, only to be reborn when Yule comes around again. Growing up, Rio helped hang holly and mistletoe each year at Yule. His parents, after choosing a tree, would cleanse and bless it before adding decorations. For the four years she was alive, Cassia was in charge of placing a star on the tree¡¯s highest branch.


    Two months after the accident, Ivo prepares to start outpatient physiotherapy. He¡¯s stressed about medical bills, and refuses to cooperate with the nurses. ¡°Ivo,¡± says Rio, sitting uncomfortably on a chair next to his bed, ¡°they saved your life.¡±


    Most people would be appreciative of this. Ivo grumbles, sitting up straight against his fluffed up pillows. ¡°Who says I wanted to be saved?¡±


    ¡°Would you rather be left to die?¡±


    Ivo wore a neck brace for only a short time, after recovering from spinal surgery. He¡¯s been sleeping like shit, but recently regained feeling and sensation in his legs. He complains of being in pain: a burning or stabbing pain that hasn¡¯t seemed to disappear since the accident. Sometimes, he loses his balance during walks, or drops objects due to muscle weakness in his fingers. Some days, he doesn¡¯t seem to care what the nurses do to him. Others, he refuses to cooperate at all. ¡°Why does it matter? We¡¯re all going to die anyway.¡±


    Most people are afraid of death. In the year following Cassia¡¯s death, Rio had dreams about growing old, and became too afraid to go to sleep. Believing in reincarnation takes a lot of fear out of dying. Ivo¡¯s always been a bit of a nihilist. He¡¯s pretty. Rio has never seen anyone near as pretty. ¡°I think you¡¯ve been reincarnated one too many times, Four-Eyes. You¡¯re an eighty year old man in spirit.¡±


    Guinea pigs, generally, live six to eight years as pets. When he and Sage were younger, they had several of them: two females and a neutered male, all housed in the same cage. Rio was never very good at keeping things alive. His parents believed pets were important because they taught children responsibility. Out of the two of them, Sage is the responsible one.  Rio wouldn''t mind having a dog. Sage prefers animals to people.


    Rio had his first gay experience at senior prom, which seems very clich¨¦. In high school, he still thought he was straight, and so did the rest of his family. He went to prom with a girl named Annie, who was a junior, and ditched him halfway through the night. He was fine with this, though; he had a lot of friends in high school. After the dance, he¡¯d gone out to the home of one of his basketball teammates, and they¡¯d had some drinks, and Rio¡¯s teammate Ian had begun to flirt with him. He wasn¡¯t opposed to this. For a guy who thought he was straight, Rio sure found a lot of men hot.


    They¡¯d stayed out late that night, drinking and chatting, and discussing their plans for college. After hours of socializing, when it was very late, he¡¯d hooked up with Ian in the bathroom, and he enjoyed it. The event was sort of a turning point for Rio. His first year of college, he thrived in this, experimenting with men and women alike ¨C and maybe both at once. He supposes he has Ian to thank. It¡¯s sort of sad, actually; after all that, they don¡¯t even speak anymore.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Every new moon, it¡¯s good to cleanse your living area, especially if you¡¯ve just moved in. In a new environment, you can¡¯t be sure what kind of energies exist there, or what kinds of people resided there before. Every new moon, Rio cleanses his living space with smudging sticks and incense, to remove negative energy, and wash it out the window. Sage smudging has roots in Native American culture, in which it would be used to cleanse auras and environments, and called on the spirits to restore balance. Rio doesn¡¯t often use sage to smudge his area. He always was quite partial to the smell of lavender.


    Before bed, Ivo takes a bath. This helps him relax, and makes him more comfortable before he goes to sleep, but he refuses to let the nurses do it, and demands that Rio assist him. Ivo says he can¡¯t tell how warm the water is. He turned the water on too hot, and didn¡¯t feel it burning.


    Who is this guy, and what has he done to you?


    Sage asked the question, but it¡¯s something Rio has asked himself on more than one occasion.


    Ivo looks abandoned. He closes his eyes, letting his head fall onto the wall behind him. ¡°Why are you even here, Rio?¡±


    This is an unexpected question. Ivo sets his hands onto his lap, making ripples in the water. He¡¯s been in the hospital for nearly three months, and goes to physiotherapy next week. Although he still possesses the ability to walk and complete daily tasks, he¡¯s become clumsy and slow, and needs help with things like taking lids off bottles and writing his name. ¡°You asked me to come help you bathe. Do you not want that anymore?¡± Rio stands to leave, and Ivo sighs loudly.


    ¡°No, why are you here at all?¡± He speaks flatly. He¡¯s been in the hospital too long. ¡°Why would you waste your time taking care of me, like I¡¯m some sort of fucking baby? Go play a sport, or something.¡± He¡¯s very still. His eyes are closed, tightly, avoiding Rio. He feels depressed in waves, and some days are worse than others. He¡¯s so different now, than he was before. Maybe someday, this will change. Maybe someday, he¡¯ll be back to his familiar, grumpy self.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡±


    It¡¯s hot in the bathroom. No one else is in the room. The boy snorts, and rolls his eyes. ¡°Just answer the question, dipshit. We all know you fuck off as soon as you get tired of someone. Do you feel sorry for me, or something?¡±


    He isn¡¯t wrong, but the words sting. People can change. Rio thinks he¡¯s changed most of all. It¡¯s a simple answer, but it doesn¡¯t seem like him. ¡°Feeling sorry for you won¡¯t change anything. You¡¯re still an asshole, you know.¡±


    In the bathtub, Ivo¡¯s leg twitches. It does this quite a bit. He presses down on it, frowning, tired. ¡°You¡¯re still an arrogant bitch who doesn¡¯t know how to answer a simple question.¡± Rio isn¡¯t sure why he¡¯s so badly in need of a reason. Some things don¡¯t have an answer. But he sighs, and looks at him. It¡¯s so obvious. He¡¯d have to be stupid not to know.


    ¡°Because I fucking love you, dumbass!¡±


    He¡¯s yelled. He didn¡¯t mean to yell. ¡°I¡¯m in love with you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?¡± Ivo says nothing: just stares at him with his pale, beautiful eyes. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, Four-Eyes.¡± It¡¯s easy to tell, he thinks, when someone loves you. Half the time, they don¡¯t even have to say it. Ivo looks sad. He looks this way most of the time. Rio isn¡¯t one to wonder if people love him, and doesn¡¯t expect Ivo to return the sentiment. In the past, he¡¯s wondered whether Ivo was capable of love at all. After a moment of silence, during which the boys stare at one another, he stares at the water.


    ¡°Now there¡¯s something I¡¯ve never heard before. Congratulations, dipshit, you¡¯ve finally thought of something original to say.¡± Ivo is a lot of things - but he¡¯s never boring. His bath water is starting to get cold. He touches Rio¡¯s face with very cold hands, leaving his skin warm and tingling. Being touched by someone else shouldn¡¯t make him feel tingly. ¡°You really have lost your mind, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    There¡¯s really no telling where Ivo will end up once he leaves the hospital. He lives in a home with stairs and very narrow hallways, and stumbles when trying to turn corners. ¡°Did I ever tell you why we left Florida?¡± He hasn¡¯t. He rarely speaks about it to others. Visiting hours are almost over.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Sometimes, Rio sees beautiful things in nature and thinks about Cassia. She¡¯s a yellow flower, blooming in the sun underneath a blue sky. She¡¯s a white swan, following a fish through the water on a cloudy day. Speaking about trauma becomes easier with time. ¡°There was a home invasion when I was eleven. These two men broke into the house and pointed guns at us.¡± It was close to Yule that day, and still very hot. For the first twelve years of his life, Rio only ever saw snow on television. ¡°I¡¯m the oldest, and my parents were still asleep, so I took my dad¡¯s gun and shot at the intruders, and one of them picked up my four year old sister to use as a shield.¡±


    It¡¯s been far too long since the incident has been spoken about out loud. It still makes Rio feel guilty and emotional. Most people are not fond of vulnerability. He never knows how Ivo will react to serious topics. When you tell someone you lost a sibling, they all want to know how the child died, and it feels rather intrusive. They should ask about what she liked, they should ask about Rio¡¯s favorite memories, but all they care about is how she died. Cassia loved to draw, and to sing, and listen to fairy tales. No one ever cares about this.


    Ivo looks at him for a very long time. Most people would apologize, they¡¯re sorry for his loss, but Ivo doesn¡¯t say this. Instead, he shrugs before looking away.


    ¡°How come you never told me about that?¡±


    Even the most hardened people have the potential to be vulnerable if given the opportunity. He shrugs, knowing it¡¯s nearly time to head home. ¡°Same reason you never told me about your father¡¯s overdose.¡± There¡¯s no reason he should know this. He hears things about Ivo from Sage, who hears them from Aspen. ¡°Logically, you know it¡¯s not your fault they died, but it¡¯s still hard not to blame yourself.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that.¡± Ivo speaks much slower than he used to. ¡°That man was not my father. I¡¯m glad he¡¯s dead.¡±


    In the hallway of the hospital, there¡¯s a large holiday tree. Visitors bring gifts and treats to loved ones who won¡¯t be home for Christmas. Nobody deserves to spend the holidays alone. When he was younger, he¡¯d go with his parents every year to bring food or blankets to the homeless. This is something he hasn¡¯t done in a while. This year, Sage promised to accompany him. Years ago, Cassia came too. She was a little girl who loved to make other people smile, and Rio admired her for this. This was something he never told her. Most humans don¡¯t appreciate one another until they¡¯re no longer here to appreciate.

 XXXIII. Scuffed Sneakers.

    There¡¯s no telling how long it¡¯s been. It¡¯s snowing. When Juno looks into a mirror, her reflection looks strange and confused.


    Will you remember me after I die? Or will it be like I never existed at all?


    When her brain cancer diagnosis was still fresh, Juno spoke about her death with Aspen often. It really is a shame how things happened - Juno¡¯s parents worried for her, and Aspen was never used to being second best. She¡¯d question if their mother¡¯s tales of Heaven and Hell were true. For a long time, Juno believed her diagnosis was punishment, and that she¡¯d done something to deserve it.


    I¡¯ll remember you. When I get married and have kids, I¡¯ll tell them all about you.


    Aspen really was stupid sometimes. Juno would do anything to see her stupid face.


    Juno rarely leaves the house. Joke¡¯s boyfriend, Van, had taken her to a festival in Amsterdam because Joke begged him to. He¡¯s not overly friendly. Juno feels unwelcome anywhere she goes. The room she¡¯s been given is large and decorated with all of her favorite things, but it still doesn¡¯t feel like home. It¡¯s a new year, and the snow hasn¡¯t yet begun to melt.


    Late at night, when they¡¯re supposed to be sleeping, Juno sometimes sneaks into Joke¡¯s room. She¡¯s two years older than Juno, and experiences life in a different way. Joke¡¯s nothing like her mother. She talks openly about her past, her fears, and her plans. She knows Doutzen. She has the same pale, crossed eyes as Ivo, but is nothing like him.


    ¡°How did I end up here?¡±


    Juno doesn¡¯t often talk to herself. She wants to be like Joke: pensive, confident.


    ¡°What do you mean: here?¡±


    Joke lies on the bed next to Juno, looking up at the roof, her arms crossed beneath her head. She has two step-siblings, both more than a decade younger than her. Juno used to use social media. Since arriving here, she¡¯s been forced to follow rules, as though she¡¯s a child again. ¡°How did I get here? Far away from home. What am I doing here? Do my parents even care that I¡¯m gone?¡± She has more anxiety than normal: usually at night, when fear of the future creeps in and leaves Juno feeling paralyzed. There¡¯s a sense of paranoia that comes with not knowing. Everyone else knows things about Juno they¡¯d never dare tell her. She used to believe it was strangers who were the most dangerous.


    Perhaps Joke keeps secrets, too. She speaks to her mother in quiet tones, and falls silent when Juno enters the room. She can keep secrets, too. There are so many questions to be asked, and not enough time in the world to get all the answers.


    In Verena¡¯s basement, there¡¯s a small bookshelf that contains photo albums and scrapbooks. When the rest of the household sleeps, Juno snoops through the shelves: studying family photos of people she¡¯s never seen before. Juno¡¯s grandfather is named Sander. Although they¡¯ve never met, she recognizes him the instant she turns the page. Juno¡¯s mother used to be beautiful. She stands in the middle of a photograph dated 1986, smiling at the camera, her grandfather¡¯s arm sat on her shoulders.


    How come you never talk about your siblings?


    Juno misses home. Her mother speaks often of childhood, but never of her family. She¡¯s the type of storyteller that makes people miss those they¡¯ve never met, and leaves Juno wondering about family long after the story ends. There¡¯s something secretive about Anika¡¯s stories. She starts them abruptly, and ends them the same way.


    There¡¯s nothing to talk about. You already know all you need to know.


    The photograph is sleek and thin. Juno¡¯s mother stands next to a boy who looks just like Ivo, but who smiles in a way Ivo has never done before. Although Anika doesn¡¯t talk about Pim, Juno learns about him in strange ways. There¡¯s a folded piece of paper squeezed between two pages of the photo album: crinkled and stained. Juno shouldn¡¯t snoop. This is something her mother says all the time. She¡¯s quiet. There¡¯s no date on the paper, but it seems to be a journal entry, scribbled in tiny, crooked writing. It looks like Ivo¡¯s writing.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were down here.¡±


    Perhaps, like most, Juno believes well-practiced lies. She wakes up in the morning after having dreamt of her siblings, and longs to speak to them. It¡¯s strange to consider the fact that Ciel and Aspen were told of her death months ago, and likely still believe it to be true.


    Verena always hugs her children goodnight. She hugs Juno too, as if she¡¯s been doing it all her life. If Juno wasn¡¯t sure before of being away from home, this gesture would have convinced her. Although Anika loves her children, she isn¡¯t a woman who hugs.


    ¡°How long have you been awake?¡±


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    You need to learn to stand up for yourself, Juno. Do you want everyone to walk all over you for the rest of your life?


    Juno is still rather thin, despite having put on a lot of weight. Slipping the folded piece of paper into the pocket of her pajama pants, she stares at Verena, whose suspicion is loud and common. Juno has spent a lifetime obeying others and keeping her nose clean. She¡¯s unsure how long she¡¯s been here, but can¡¯t stand to stay a moment longer. ¡°I want you to tell me the truth.¡±


    Ivo is insufferable. There¡¯s a part of Juno that wants to hug him tightly.


    Verena frowns, her forehead wrinkling in a way that makes her look like an old woman. Anika has the same forehead wrinkle. Some days, Juno is still convinced she¡¯s dead. ¡°What do you mean, the truth? I¡¯ve told you all there is to know. You were sick, and now you¡¯re not.¡± The woman holds out a hand to Juno, exposing her fresh painted floral nails. Verena treats Juno like a daughter. The conflicting part of this comes from feeling more at home away from home. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m making breakfast. Are you hungry?¡±


    Death changes people. It¡¯s foolish to believe everything you¡¯re told, and it¡¯s foolish to trust someone just because they¡¯re family.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid!¡± It feels as though Juno lives in captivity: like a wild animal that needs to be watched, taken as a danger to itself and others. Other people¡¯s lives are just as complex and multi-faceted as hers, and this can be odd to think about. She knows little of her grandparents, and draws conclusions about her mother¡¯s upbringing based on the obscure, nonspecific stories the woman tells. Perhaps Verena will be more open. Maybe if you find a person¡¯s weak spot, you can learn from them. ¡°I went into a coma, and I woke up on the other side of the world, with everyone pretending I¡¯ve lived here all along. You¡¯re keeping secrets. You¡¯re jealous of my mother. You abducted me.¡±


    You need to learn how to hit people where it hurts. Getting what you want is easy when you know what hurts someone the most.


    It takes a frightening kind of person to speak hateful words without feeling remorse. Juno thinks back on conversations from years ago, and feels guilty over things she¡¯s said. Verena stands tall, her hands on her hips, taller than Juno. Maybe she¡¯ll shout. Maybe she¡¯ll continue to deny that anything happened at all. Juno waits for the backlash - and Verena deflates into herself, like an old balloon that¡¯s been left out too long. Juno has never been the type of girl to hold a grudge. Everything is worth forgiving. Kida used to say forgiveness was the most powerful medicine of all.


    ¡°Your mother never deserved children.¡±


    It¡¯s cold in the basement. Juno wears only a tee shirt and a thin pair of shorts. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    Verena was always jealous of me. She was jealous that I made a name for myself while she struggled to provide for her family.


    Juno¡¯s sister was jealous of Juno, too. She¡¯d hate to be middle-aged and still have unhealed childhood trauma. ¡°Did you just say my mom didn¡¯t deserve to have children? Why would you say that?¡± Anika isn¡¯t the perfect mother. Juno isn¡¯t the perfect daughter. Maybe if she¡¯d never been the favorite child, she¡¯d be bitter too. ¡°Does my mother know I¡¯m here?¡± It feels unpleasant to not have control. Putting her life into other people¡¯s hands makes Juno feel afraid and nervous. It would likely be this way for anyone. Verena does not look displeased, and she does not look happy.


    ¡°Anika was spoiled. Anika got everything handed to her on a silver platter. Everything she did wrong was my fault, because she was a child, and I should have known better.¡± It seems as though Verena hasn¡¯t spoken about her bitterness in quite some time. She speaks in a tone that¡¯s sharp and sour, like a woman whose tongue tastes of lemons. She sits, defeated by her own resentment. ¡°Then she left the country and married a man old enough to be her father, claiming his wealth as her own, and I was stuck looking after Pim.¡±


    Verena isn¡¯t a mean woman. She treats her family well, and welcomes strangers into home rather commonly. Juno remembers something her brother said, once. We only see the parts of people they enable us to see.


    Upstairs, the children play loudly, and Joke¡¯s dog sleeps at the top of the staircase. Juno longs to know the secrets her mother has kept from her for years.


    ¡°Why did you look after Pim?¡±


    Ivo never speaks about his father. There¡¯s more to him than she¡¯s been made to believe: substance use often stems from trauma, and, as the youngest, he had traumas that the others didn¡¯t. He wrote a note that should have gone to Anika after his death, like the rest of his things, but ended up in Verena¡¯s basement, covered in dust and fingerprints.


    Verena frowns, standing. ¡°Nevermind. You ask too many questions. You¡¯re just like your mother.¡±


    She¡¯s frustrated. She has the same tone in her voice as Juno¡¯s mother. Juno isn¡¯t a dishonest woman. If Juno values honesty, but no one else seems to do the same, does honesty really have any value at all?


    ¡°Why do you have this?¡±


    There¡¯s still no way of knowing how Juno will get home, or even if she¡¯ll be able to leave at all. Joke, who promised to help attain plane tickets, hasn¡¯t spoken of Juno¡¯s return since bringing it up. ¡°This note. It should have gone with my mom when she took in Ivo. He deserves to see it.¡± Juno could stash it in a duffel bag, or hide it in her suitcase when she finds a way home. ¡°Did you love him? Is that why you kept the note? Because you want to blame Ivo too, somehow?¡±


    It¡¯s quiet where the women stand. Juno¡¯s sister once said she makes people feel at ease, and this is why they open up to her.


    ¡°Anika asked me to keep it.¡± Although she acts unhappy, Verena makes no effort to take the note back, or to end the conversation. Maybe sometimes, all someone needs is to be listened to. ¡°Pim followed her around everywhere. Pim was her little baby. She took him to a party, and she gave him drugs, and then, when he got addicted, she ran away to the other side of the world and left me to clean him up.¡±


    Betrayal always cuts deepest when it comes from those we¡¯re closest to. There¡¯s static in Juno¡¯s ears; it reminds her of mosquitoes buzzing as they flit around the windowsill, or a car radio that has no service, and crackles in and out. Verena turns, abrupt, making her way upstairs. The wooden staircase squeaks under her feet.

 XXXIV. Will You Stay With Me When I Collapse?

    It''s February. After nearly four months in the hospital, Ivo is allowed to go home. He was discharged with a new cane and a mountain of medications, which may or may not be covered by insurance. He¡¯d rather have died than end up like this. He learned a lot in rehabilitation, and regained use of his arms and legs, but has weak finger mobility, and has been in pain since arriving at the hospital. The medical team says he¡¯s fortunate to have survived without a serious spinal injury. It doesn¡¯t matter. He falls when he walks, and drops things he tries to hold, and wakes up in the middle of the night feeling as though all of his body is on fire.


    Outside the hospital, Rio helps him buckle into the passenger seat. This makes him feel like a baby. Ivo looks the same as he did before. Doctors never care about their patients. We¡¯re all just a face and a body, with nothing personal about us. Like everyone else, doctors only work because they have to survive a life they didn¡¯t ask for anyway. Ivo nearly died on the way to the hospital. He remembers feeling very warm, pained, and dazed, and then waking up to machines beeping loudly and paramedics shouting his name. There are no paramedics in the Netherlands.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± says Rio, parking outside of the mobile home. ¡°What do you want to do now that you¡¯re free?¡± Although home is better than the hospital, there¡¯s no point in living if you¡¯re miserable. Everything hurts. Ivo¡¯s fingers are numb and tingly, so that he struggles to open the door and get out of the car.


    Rio won¡¯t leave. Ivo could mistreat him as badly as he wanted, and Rio would put up with it. He wants to prove a point, and Ivo isn¡¯t too stupid to realize this. Rio calls him stubborn. Rio is the most stubborn man Ivo¡¯s ever met.


    Ivo stops outside the home. In his hospital bag, he¡¯s got painkillers, muscle relaxants, antidepressants. It all seems like too much. It¡¯s likely he¡¯ll need to take these forever. He could have died in the hospital, and nobody would have cared. People always pretend to care, because nobody can bear to be disliked, and so nobody can bear to dislike anyone else. Most of the time, nobody ever cares about you until you¡¯re dead.


    A few days after leaving the intensive care unit, Ivo fought with a nurse. After this, he never saw her again.


    ¡°Why do you always have to be so difficult, Ivo? You need to talk to people like they¡¯re people, and not just corporate slaves.¡±


    That¡¯s all anybody is, though. A corporate slave. People work for million dollar companies, insisting on being treated as though they¡¯re royalty, refusing to pay workers what their labor is worth. Ivo hates the wealthy, and he hates the poor just the same.


    This morning, he needed help getting dressed. It¡¯s stupid to admit your feelings to people. Rio is in love with him, apparently. He¡¯s a dipshit. Ivo could make Rio do whatever he wanted. ¡°Fuck off. I don¡¯t need your help.¡± He¡¯s been speaking to people this way for so long that, these days, he can¡¯t speak to anyone any other way.


    Aspen and Ciel are home. Neither have come outside to acknowledge Ivo. His space hasn¡¯t been cleaned in months, and still feels tidy. It¡¯s cold and cloudy outside. Ivo struggles to maneuver his things inside the shed, and nobody comes to help. Rio scuffs his feet on the ground. He never does what he¡¯s told. He shouts at Ivo in terrible Dutch, so painfully American.


    ¡°What are you so afraid of?¡±


    They say if you love someone, you should let them go. But nobody ever talks about what happens if they don¡¯t come back. When he was younger, he played sports like hockey and soccer with a small group of neighborhood kids. But he was an angry and insolent child, and after a while, none of the other kids wanted to play with him. Rio makes him feel safe, and no one else ever has. That¡¯s the scary part, though. Getting close to people means they can leave, and it will hurt, and you can scream and beg them not to go, and it won¡¯t make a difference.


    It¡¯s cowardly to leave the people who love you without saying goodbye. It¡¯s cowardly to leave the people who love you without thinking about how their lives will be fucked up because of it. Even if you realize your mistake, it¡¯s too late. It¡¯s too late the second you shut the door behind you. It takes years to build up a person¡¯s trust. It takes a single second to break it completely. If you trust nobody, there¡¯s nobody to let you down.


    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid.¡± The burning always starts in his feet, and then shoots up his legs and up to his chest. Some days, it feels as though he¡¯ll burn alive from the inside out. ¡°I don¡¯t need your pity, or to be taken care of like a fucking baby.¡± He turns, and stumbles, falling hands-first into the snow. It hurts, far more than it should. It makes Ivo¡¯s fingers tingle and buckle.


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    Rio touches his shoulders, squatting in the snow. He always smells good. He can make Ivo feel weak simply by touching him. ¡°I think you¡¯re afraid of getting hurt. You¡¯re scared that if you get too close to someone, they¡¯ll get tired and abandon you.¡± Rio is smug and vain. If he weren¡¯t so hot, Ivo would have left ages ago. ¡°Don¡¯t you think, if I was going to get tired of you, I would have done it by now?¡±


    It¡¯s too bright outside. No one means a single thing, least of all Ivo.


    ¡°What makes you think I haven¡¯t gotten tired of you?¡±


    Ivo feels chilly, and tired. Rio touches his face, probably closer than he needs to be. He has thick hair that tickles Ivo¡¯s arm, and holds him by the shoulders. ¡°No one ever gets tired of me.¡± He¡¯s an arrogant dick. His voice is low in Ivo¡¯s ear, and makes him weak.


    He frowns. ¡°People only like you because you¡¯re a jock, but you¡¯re not even good at hockey, you know. If you weren¡¯t an athlete, you¡¯d be no one. Sports are all you have.¡± He¡¯s superficial. He puts on a facade of being high and mighty because he can¡¯t bear to be alone with himself for a single minute. And this makes a person weak. Maybe Ivo pities him. Maybe that¡¯s why things changed.


    Rio is very close to him. He claims not to care what other people think, but obsesses over being liked, as though it matters. ¡°Is that why you like me? Because I¡¯m a jock?¡±


    If he¡¯d never gotten involved with Rio in the first place, none of this would have happened. He¡¯s probably never been criticized once in his life. Once you get close to someone, there¡¯s no way for things to ever go back to the way they were. Ivo could insult Rio a hundred times, and nothing would change.


    ¡°I have never once said I like you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never had to.¡±


    Ivo¡¯s tired. He sits on the ground, and can¡¯t feel the chill of the snow underneath him. People like to say that feeling is important. Juno said that having feelings is how you know you¡¯re alive. ¡°You think everyone likes you because you¡¯re popular and attractive. But you¡¯re insecure, and you refuse to ever be alone so you don¡¯t have to think about it, and people feel bad for you. All of your relationships are superficial and forced, all because you¡¯re too scared to think about your life for two minutes.¡±


    Though it was suggested by the medical team he keeps one on him all the time, Ivo won¡¯t use a cane. He never used one before, and won¡¯t now. It¡¯s quiet. For the first time in a long time, Ivo misses home.


    ¡°Marry me.¡±


    Pim used to say falling in love was for idiots and fools. He taught Ivo to be angry and hateful, and then he became the type of person he hated most. Ivo didn¡¯t hate Pim. He pitied him, and this might be worse.


    ¡°Why the fuck would I do that?¡±


    There¡¯s no sensation left in Ivo¡¯s toes. They drag when he walks, and can¡¯t feel the ground. Sometimes it feels as though his foot has fallen asleep, and then the sensation lingers, until all of his fingers tingle. The sun hurts his eyes, even in the dead of winter. Pim had tinted glasses, too. When Ivo was a little boy, he thought his father was the world¡¯s bravest man - and then he grew up.


    Ivo has never really wondered what the world looks like. He sees things in detail inside his head, and doesn¡¯t give a shit about anything else. Ivo never hated being blind until he met Rio. ¡°Why the fuck do you think?¡± It¡¯s getting dark. Ivo could sleep for days. ¡°Because this is the only relationship you¡¯ve ever had that makes you feel like a human being.¡±


    Your heart can¡¯t be broken if you don¡¯t have one. This is something Pim used to say, and it stuck with Ivo through the years. Maybe there¡¯s something worthwhile about being human. Maybe letting yourself feel something once in a while won¡¯t kill you. It¡¯s doubtful. Life means nothing, anyway. Nothing means anything. Ivo pitied his father, but he¡¯s grown up to be just like him. Maybe in a way, Ivo pities himself, too.


    There are no locks on the shed. No one ever comes out here.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    What did you like about my mom, anyway?


    Nothing, really. She was just some girl, and I was lonely.


    You can¡¯t ever let yourself develop a relationship with anyone. Everyone always leaves, and then it¡¯s like no one was ever there at all.


    What a miserable life that must be: completely devoid of meaningful relationships, with no one but yourself to keep you company. Most people hate being alone. Most people would rather set themselves up for betrayal than keep their own company.


    At one point in his life, Ivo cared to know about the lives of the people whose one-night stand led to his existence. At one point, he was convinced love had to exist for sex to exist. Children are stupid and unrealistic, and most don¡¯t grow out of it. The problem with loneliness is that if it goes on long enough, your self-respect will disappear, and it will leave a big mess.

 XXXV. lilypad knees

    The ocean is stunning at night. The sky is pink, and Sage could watch the sunset every day. It makes them feel peaceful and relaxed, and it¡¯s a great place to meditate. Sage used to come out here with Rio, to sit by the shore and enjoy the sunset. They did this in Florida sometimes, too, though the distance was further, and the sunset was later.


    Autumn is the best time to do magic. Sage finds it enlightening to visit a cemetery and dwell on the fragility of life, or perform spells for new beginnings, or sit outside in the dark. For whatever reason, they¡¯ve always felt at home in the dark. Sage didn¡¯t always believe in reincarnation. A few years ago, they didn¡¯t know what to believe. Rio always talks about how comforted he is by the thought of being reborn: it¡¯s calming, and it takes the fear out of death. Maybe for him. Sage is still afraid to die. They think any logical person would be.


    Sage has decided to call themself Sloan City, and has a personal reason for this. Their middle name is Sloan. Sage has been checking the sales of the album they uploaded ¨C an album called Holographs. It feels overwhelming and hard, but exciting, and something they can¡¯t accomplish without the help of their father. Amani is a good manager. He¡¯s prepared, confident, and he knows what¡¯s best for Sage. Every parent claims they know their children more than anyone. In Sage''s case, this is actually true.  Since uploading their first album, Sage has made five hundred sales in America. With each album selling for twenty five dollars, they¡¯re not struggling. Some days, they even buy groceries for their family, or presents for their friends, or lunch for strangers. It feels good to help others. They don¡¯t think they¡¯ll go back to school, even though everyone else in the family has been to college. Everyone¡¯s path is different, and there¡¯s no use comparing them.


    Sage stresses about being vulnerable. It¡¯s uncomfortable to be known, and Sage would prefer to spend their whole life hiding from the spotlight. Today, Sage celebrates their eighteenth birthday.


    In Celtic tradition, handfasting is the act of tying a couple¡¯s hands together with rope, using specific colors to represent the goals of the unity. These are common in Wicca; Sage''s parents had a Handfasting ceremony as part of their wedding twenty something years ago. If Sage were ever to get married, they would probably have one too. On its own, a Handfasting isn¡¯t legally binding, and was originally used to prepare a couple for marriage. A year later, if they were still together and interested in being married, they could follow through with a legal ceremony. These days, most Pagans just include a Handfasting in their wedding ceremony. This is what Rio did. It¡¯s strange. Rio is the last person in the world Sage would expect to get hitched.


    ¡°I might move overseas,¡± said Rio, late last night. ¡°I¡¯m bored of Alaska, and I¡¯m tired of Ivo being miserable.¡± That¡¯s so Rio: abandoning something when it isn¡¯t interesting anymore, with no consideration of how it will affect other people. It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not like Sage will miss him, anyway.


    ¡°Hi, everyone.¡± Sage stands on a small stage in Anchorage, holding their mandolin under one arm. Amani arranged this show, and Sage is nervous. There¡¯s a small group of people here; truthfully, Sage expected none. In order to be successful, you need to advertise yourself, and this can be intimidating and hard. Sage could never do it without their family. ¡°Uh ¨C I¡¯m Sloan City. I¡¯m going to play you a song I wrote called Holographs.¡± It feels weird, speaking like this in front of a group of people, even if it isn¡¯t a large group. Most people are here out of curiosity. Others, like Amani and Aspen, are here to support Sage.


    Sage wrote their first song ten years ago, at the age of eight. It was a terrible song, but their parents encouraged them to share, and to keep writing, and so they did. This morning, Sage made friends with a couple: Ruby and Victor, who are locals. They approached them at this very auditorium, the one in which they sit right now to listen, and asked if Sage was who they thought they were. It was uncomfortable and odd, and made Sage feel like a celebrity. Ruby had bought their album, she said, and listened to it everyday. Sage''s social media isn¡¯t hard to find. Sloan City is becoming recognizable, somehow.


    Ruby is twenty years old, and works as a waitress in Anchorage. She¡¯s lived here her whole life, so she¡¯s used to the climate, and never dresses for the weather. Neither does Sage. But while Ruby always underdresses, Sage is always cold, and doesn¡¯t leave the house without layers of baggy clothing. ¡°You did amazing,¡± Ruby says, meeting Sage after the show, which wasn¡¯t very long. They¡¯ve gained some more attention, which was the whole idea. ¡°Your songs sound even better in person.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh-¡± Amani joins Sage, smiling fondly at their new friends. The man smiles at everyone. Despite this, people still treat him as though he¡¯s dangerous. ¡°I taught myself using tutorial videos.¡± Music is the only thing that Sage is good at. It helps, having a hobby, being good at something. Sage doesn¡¯t think they¡¯re the world¡¯s best musician, by any means. If people want to listen to their music, that¡¯s good enough. Even if it¡¯s only ten people, that¡¯s good enough. They shrug, feeling hungry and shy. ¡°Do you guys maybe want to come out for lunch with my dad and I?¡± The reality is, after leaving Anchorage, Sage will likely never speak to Ruby again.


    When Sage first met Ruby, she asked if they were a boy or a girl, and Sage said no. But no one ever seems satisfied by this answer, because nobody can accept anything outside the binary. People need labels, answers, to feel comfortable, even if their comfort puts someone else at risk. Having no gender is hardest when it comes to public washrooms, or clothing stores, or leaving the house. How can all of society be thrust into such narrow categories? People aren¡¯t robots. They¡¯re not dolls, used to be dressed and played with in any way somebody else sees fit. It isn¡¯t fair, to force everybody into small boxes, to ostracize them when they don¡¯t fit inside. Boxes aren¡¯t for people. It¡¯s hard to find clothing that isn¡¯t marketed for one sex or another. Sage does most of their clothes shopping online, or in local thrift stores that support androgynous fashion. Around here, that¡¯s little to nothing.


    ¡°Have you ever been in love?¡±


    Aspen hasn¡¯t been home in several weeks. She decided to drop out of high school, and go to stay with Sage, and nobody says a thing. When Sage returns to the hotel their father has booked, Aspen sits lazily on the floor, a pile of notebooks at her feet. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Aspen says she¡¯s done with boys. Late at night, Sage finds her curled up in a ball, staring into space. ¡°Once, I thought I was.¡±


    Every morning, Aspen speaks to her brother on the phone. She says, aside from Sage, he¡¯s the only one who cares about her. ¡°Sometimes I wish I could experience it.¡± It¡¯s always warm in Sage''s house. It reminds them of home.


    It¡¯s hard to write a song. Sage writes about normal things: family, religion, identity, and their sister. Song-writing began as a way of journaling, giving Sage a healthy outlet to work through things. It¡¯s a lot easier to write things down than it is to talk about them. It¡¯s weirdly personal and uncomfortable to share these things with strangers, but Sage kind of likes this. They need to be more open, more vulnerable, and to let people in who are good for them.


    Aspen shifts uncomfortably, dropping bits of the cracker she munches on.  Since leaving home, she cut her hair into a blunt bob, and it aged her. ¡°You¡¯ve never loved anyone before?¡±


    Aspen isn¡¯t very much younger than Sage. Some days, she seems like an old woman. ¡°I love lots of people.¡± Sage''s kitten isn¡¯t a kitten anymore. Heka naps a lot, and doesn¡¯t like strangers. ¡°I just don¡¯t fall in love.¡± Sage used to think there was nothing to life if not for love. Most of the time, it¡¯s better to be alone than to spend time with someone who makes you miserable. People get lonely, and they crave human interaction, and sometimes they become so desperate they¡¯ll let terrible people in just so they don¡¯t have to be alone.


    There¡¯s more to love than just romance, Rio said once. He was always the type of person to date around a lot, but never really fall in love. Companions don¡¯t have to be romantic. Most people are afraid of being alone. When all of Sage''s friends started dating, they would pretend to be interested in people, too.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    After Cassia¡¯s death, Sage''s parents got her fingerprints painted on the walls. These stayed behind, like everything else, when the family left home. For several years after this, Sage was reminded of her by almost everything.


    ¡°I wish I didn¡¯t fall in love.¡± Aspen frowns, picking at her fingernails. She dresses in clothing Sage''s grandmother would call ¡°tasteless¡±, and she usually acts older than she is. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. You¡¯ll never get a broken heart.¡± Sage has heard this before. They will never fall in love with someone who doesn¡¯t reciprocate, or be left broken-hearted by a bad relationship. Sage could hurt in different ways. There are all kinds of love, and all kinds of ways to be heartbroken.


    ¡°My brother says being in love is torture.¡± Even if you¡¯re loved in return. Even if it makes you the happiest you¡¯ve ever been. If that¡¯s true, what¡¯s the point of falling in love at all?


    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Aspen uses her phone a lot. She says no one ever texts her except for her brother. ¡°It¡¯s the worst kind of torture there is.¡±


    The theory of love doesn¡¯t make any sense. Sage is beginning to suspect that nothing does. ¡°Then¡­ why would anyone want it?¡± They remember middle school and high school, listening to Rio talk about all the people he loved who didn¡¯t love him back - and at the time, it seemed silly. Rio would say he loved people instantly, and Sage would argue that you can¡¯t love someone you don¡¯t know.


    ¡°Because sometimes it makes you feel good, and sometimes you meet someone who changes your life in ways you never imagined. I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s complicated.¡± Aspen looks tired, and frowns deeply, so that her forehead wrinkles. ¡°Do you ever hear your sister¡¯s voice out of nowhere?¡±


    Aspen says her sister¡¯s been dead for nearly a year. Sage knows that the first year is always the hardest. They used to believe that pain went away with time, and that eventually, nothing would hurt anymore. This isn¡¯t how pain works. Sometimes, even years after a loss, the pain swallows you whole.


    Sage''s house is filled with gemstones. Everywhere you look, there are gemstones. Sage''s fathers were always very spiritual, even back in their home countries, which might seem strange. The altar gets decorated with many things: candles, athames, chalices, a wand. Most of these things remain here even when the Sabbats are completed. Growing up, Sage always had the choice to follow in the beliefs of their fathers, or to choose their own. Many people are not fortunate enough to have such understanding, supportive parents.


    ¡°I hear it all the time.¡±


    Sage never understood people whose cheerful attitudes never wavered, even during the most traumatic times. Rio was always one of these people. He makes badly-timed jokes at the expense of others, and hurts other people¡¯s feelings by doing so. When Sage and their brother were kids, Rio was scolded by their father, after making a tactless joke at Cassia¡¯s funeral. You can¡¯t turn everything into a joke. Some things can¡¯t be laughed about. Rio used to hate the fact that his father was a shrink. He hated the obligations that came with this: daily emotional check-ins, regular scheduled family time. Years ago, he went through a phase that involved leaving the house as early as possible, and not returning until days later.


    ¡°Mostly I hear her voice when I¡¯m upset, telling me it¡¯ll all be okay, the way she used to.¡±


    Cassia had an unusually deep understanding of other people. As young as she was, she was always the first to comfort people when they needed it, and she could always tell when someone was sad, even if they never said it out loud. Don¡¯t be sad, Grier, Cassia would say, wrapping her short arms around Sage''s legs. This was as high as she could reach. It will be okay. You have me.


    Something about the innocence of young children makes Sage sad. Cassia had an innocence to her that even death couldn¡¯t take away. Sometimes, late at night, Sage wonders what Cassia has been reborn into, or even if she¡¯s been reborn at all. Cassia could be the little boy living down the street, or the cat that wanders the backyard early in the mornings, or  a star shining brightly in the sky. Once in a while, Sage swears they hear Cassia speaking: clearly, as though she¡¯s standing right in front of them.


    ¡°What do you think happens after you die? Do you think there¡¯s an afterlife?¡±


    It¡¯s rare for Sage to open up to people. Growing up, they had to do it all the time, and after long enough, sharing everything made Sage feel as though nothing belonged to them. Some things don¡¯t need to be shared. This is something Sage wishes their father would have realized earlier. It was always easier to write things than to say them. Sage doesn¡¯t know anyone who would agree.


    Sage was always interested in mythology. As a kid, instead of bedtime stories about talking animals and fairy tales, their parents told stories about the Faeries, and Valhalla, and mythological Deities. In childhood, they learned how to leave offerings to the deceased, and to cast spells - and so, Paganism and Witchcraft was always embedded into them. None of this was forced, as disapproving adults have tried to say. Sage loved learning about the things their parents believed in. During adolescence, when they turned temporarily away from spirituality and religion, nobody took it personally.


    There are many versions and many names for the place that souls go after death. In Celtic mythology, the Otherworld is the realm of the deities, and maybe of the dead. It¡¯s described as an elusive place, existing alongside our own realm, atop an island or underneath. In Welsh mythology, the Otherworld is called Annwn. In Chinese mythology, it¡¯s called Tian. Sage can¡¯t explain the comfort that comes with religion, although they¡¯ve tried. Amani says it¡¯s not their job to educate others.


    It¡¯s warm in the hotel room. Sage''s parents haven¡¯t yet returned from their date. Sage was the one to persuade them to go out in the first place.


    Aspen shrugs. ¡°My parents always said if I didn¡¯t live a holy life, I wouldn¡¯t get into Heaven. As a kid, I was scared that the smallest things would send me into eternal damnation.¡±


    There¡¯s always something to learn from others. Sage is fascinated by religion, and by the beliefs of other people. Their parents made certain they knew everyone is entitled to their own beliefs, and - as long as they¡¯re not hurting anybody - it¡¯s not our business to argue or claim otherwise. You could live an endless amount of lives, and still not be certain what happens after you die.


    The thought of completely ceasing to exist someday is overwhelming. Sage is just one person, one small speck over millions of years of humanity, and billions of humans. When you really think about it, the possibility of one person changing the whole course of the planet is highly unlikely. Maybe it¡¯s true what people say. No one will remember you when you die. You¡¯ll die, and then it will be like you never existed at all.


    ¡°Are you scared of dying?¡±


    Aspen fidgets, lying on her stomach on the floor of the hotel room, letting her feet wave in the air. She¡¯s very open, although she wasn¡¯t this way when Sage first met her. They wonder sometimes about Aspen¡¯s upbringing, but never ask.


    Sage fidgets, too. ¡°Kind of. Are you?¡±


    Sage misses Rio. No one ever knows when he¡¯ll come around to visit. They text him every day, and he¡¯s usually too busy to respond. At Sage''s house, Aspen sleeps in Rio¡¯s old bedroom. She seems at home here, and always wakes up in a cheerful mood. Sage supposes it¡¯s nice to have company; their parents are always busy working, and being alone gets lonesome sometimes.


    ¡°I think everyone¡¯s scared of dying. It¡¯s just human nature to be, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°My brother¡¯s not afraid of dying.¡± Sage feels uncomfortable. There¡¯s no reason to. ¡°That¡¯s what he says, anyway.¡±


    Aspen never talks about going home. She showed up at Sage''s house one day and asked to stay the night, and then she didn¡¯t leave. Sage''s fathers are hospitable men, but they let others take advantage of them. Sage has this tendency too. They could make everyone happy most of the time, and focus only on the one person who isn¡¯t happy. This gets exhausting. This is impossible.


    ¡°Can I tell you a secret?¡±


    Aspen is Sage''s only friend. To anyone else, this would be embarrassing to admit. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I¡¯m convinced my sister isn¡¯t actually dead.¡±


    Sage doesn¡¯t know much about Aspen¡¯s relationship with her siblings. They¡¯re not an expert on the inner workings of other people. When conversations get emotionally intimate or philosophical, Sage never knows how to respond.


    ¡°What if she¡¯s not?¡±


    Aspen falls silent. Outside, a small pile of snow has gathered on the windowsill.

 XXXVI. Theres No Lesson to Learn From The Lost

    In a few months, Aspen turns seventeen. She feels years older than this: nobody she meets believes her to be a teenager. Ciel says she''s aged due to trauma. Some days, she feels even older than he is. He picks her up early in the morning, when Sage is still asleep. Aspen never was very good at explaining herself, and Sage never asks questions.


    She missed Ciel. "You look like shit," she says, throwing her feet up on his dashboard: the thing he hates most about passengers. Aspen''s parents practically begged her to come over; they have news for her, they say. Aspen could go the rest of her life without speaking to her parents, and this wouldn''t bother her.


    There''s a kid''s drawing in Ciel''s glove box. Aspen cares too little about his personal life to ask about it.


    "Is that the best you can do?" Anika''s calling. Like Aspen, Ciel never answers her calls. When Sage gets up, they''ll probably wonder where Aspen has gone. "You look like you couldn''t decide between a clown look or a corpse look, so you just chose both."


    Going home after months of no contact is intimidating. Aspen wouldn''t have returned home at all if Ciel hadn''t talked her into it. He isn''t witty or eloquent. He thinks of comebacks hours after arguments, and somehow, they always cut deep. "What do you think Mom''s news is?" Anika will hate Aspen''s piercing, and her outfit. Aspen''s father always stands up for his wife, as if she has some deep, unhealed wound making her miserable. Some people just like to be miserable.


    Ciel always drives with the windows open. He still smokes the same cigarettes. "Knowing Mom, it''s something no one will even care about." He looks unkempt and unshaven, and several gray hairs poke out of his beard. "Have you talked to her lately?"


    It''s weird to think about the fact that parents were kids once, too. Before she was a bitch, Anika was a little girl who didn''t know what to do with herself. It''s a long drive home, and Aspen is restless. Leaving the house feels dangerous. "I don''t talk to anyone."


    Ciel taps a cigarette against the window, so that ash falls onto the ground. He always smells like smoke. Aspen didn''t miss this about him. "Whose house were you at, anyway? You always pick places so far away from home." People hate driving Aspen around. Ronnie hated it, too.


    She removes her feet from the dash, feeling defiant. "Sage''s." The night before, Sage played a new song they wrote, and it replayed in Aspen''s head until she fell asleep.


    "Juno''s braindead," Anika said, forever ago, "Your dad and I gave the hospital permission to turn off her life support."


    "Juno''s not dead," said Ivo, the eternal cynic, "and you''re a complete moron if you think she is."


    "Who''s Sage?"


    Ciel tries too hard to pretend he''s interested in Aspen''s life. When she lived with him, they hardly spoke at all. Ciel doesn''t care about her personal life, and she doesn''t care about his. That''s just the way it always was. Besides, it''s not really any of his business.


    "My friend."


    "Since when do you have friends?"


    Aspen grumbles. "Shut up."


    Many people think teenagers have nothing to regret. They''re careless and selfish, and don''t care about anything that matters. The truth is, sometimes Aspen cares so much about something, there''s no room left to care about anything else. Maybe life is too short to have regrets. If Aspen ever saw her sister again, she wouldn''t know where to begin.


    Anika''s house never felt like home. It seems different than usual, and smells of something burning. Feeling unwelcome, Aspen jabs her elbow into Ciel''s stomach. "It smells like Juno''s baking." They''re kind of bittersweet, memories. Being home feels uneasy. Being home feels like Aspen doesn''t belong here at all. "Get it? Because it smells like smoke, and Juno burned everything she ever tried to bake."


    Ciel says his girlfriend is moving in soon. Calypso''s room has been cleaned and emptied, and nobody talks about her anymore. Ciel''s girlfriend is an awkward and gloomy person, always wearing the same color or pattern. She doesn''t speak to Aspen much. She doesn''t speak to anyone.


    "I got it."


    Aspen gets told that she looks a lot like her brother. Juno never got told this. Aspen used to have a dream of moving far away and getting a job in the cosplay industry. Everyone knows dreams don''t come true. In general, it''s not embarrassing to get emotional. Aspen would rather jump off a bridge than let her family see her crying.


    "Is it pathetic that I''m sad right now?"


    Before going inside, Ciel finishes a cigarette, and Aspen stands downwind. She wishes Sage lived closer. When it comes to his siblings, Ciel never was the most supportive. He scrolls on his phone, not looking at Aspen, which feels invalidating. "Do you hear that?"


    It''s far too hot. "What?"


    "I swear I can hear Juno." Ciel never disposes of cigarettes properly. Even away from home, he leaves them scattered across yards and parking lots. "I''m just tired." He shrugs, scuffing the ground with his shoes before standing to open the door.


    The last time Aspen spoke to her sister, she apologized for revealing secrets that weren''t hers to tell. It''s probably true what Ciel says: family is forever, so you either have to learn to live with them or get used to being alone. It wasn''t always scary to be alone. At night, Aspen still sometimes sees Ronnie''s eyes blank and staring up at her.


    Anika''s living room is tidy and eccentric. All her knick-knacks are collectibles, she says. There''s a small, blank envelope on the kitchen table. There''s a pair of sneakers on the rug that look just like Juno''s.


    "Where''s your brother?"


    Anika''s hair is longer than it was the last time Aspen saw her. She smiles at Aspen in a way that''s meant to make her feel welcome, but puts her on edge instead. Parents always think they know their children better than anyone. Aspen hasn''t spoken to her parents about her personal life since she was ten years old.


    You can tell me anything, you know. I''m your mother. I''m always on your side.


    This is what they all say. When a little girl gets scolded for everything she says or does, she eventually stops initiating conversations at all.


    "Outside."


    God, I can see her in everything. Just once, I want to look out my window and not be reminded of my dead sister.


    When Juno and Aspen were kids, they made a secret language and kept it inside a journal no one else could read. Anika said it was rude to speak to each other this way, because nobody could understand them, and she never quite figured out that this was the point. Aspen''s mother spoke about her to others in a language she didn''t know. Disrespect is only ever okay if it''s on your own terms.


    "Why do you look so sad?"


    Aspen has never seen a ghost before. Everyone says they don''t exist: our brains play tricks on us, and we hear things that don''t exist, or a trick of the light makes it look like something is there. Growing up, it was always an unspoken agreement that ghosts weren''t real. You don''t get a second chance at life. You have to do it perfectly the first time.


    Juno sits on the floor, cross-legged, gazing at Aspen as if it''s perfectly normal for a dead girl to appear in the middle of her family''s living room. Ciel, coming back inside after a smoke, looks at Juno for a very long time.


    "What the fuck."


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    When she was young, Aspen had her mouth washed out with soap for saying the word hell. Juno''s not a ghost. There was never a funeral after she died.


    Anika doesn''t cry. When she sits next to her husband on the couch, her face is red and wet.


    "What the fuck, Mom." Ciel chain smokes when he''s stressed. Anika says nothing about his language, or about the cigarette he smokes inside her house. He''s not a confrontational man. He looks at his mother as if willing her to start on fire. Aspen wonders, if she touched the fingers, if her fingers would go right through it.


    I saw her die.


    Juno should be twenty one years old. She looks like her father, and wears a pink bow on her bald head. "I saw her die," says Anika, looking tense. She''s not a good actress. If Aspen didn''t know any better, she''d think her mother had been crying. "I was at the hospital, standing beside her bed when she flat-lined." She''s a normally outspoken woman. She looks at Juno like a child looking at a stranger. Aspen''s family loves their secrets. Aspen loves secrets, too.


    People look like they''re covered in plastic. Juno holds something in her hands. She hasn''t said a word since Aspen arrived. She hardly moves at all. Ciel stands inside the door, still wearing his shoes. When Juno smiles at him, he doesn''t smile back.


    "You''re a bullshitter."


    He doesn''t sound like himself. Aspen''s siblings have entire lives she doesn''t know about. "You''ve always been a bullshitter, haven''t you?" It''s like watching a movie play out. There''s no way to turn it off, or change the plot, or take part. "It''s true what Ivo said, isn''t it? You didn''t have a funeral for Juno because you knew she wasn''t dead."


    There will never be enough time. Even answered questions don¡¯t leave Aspen satisfied. People share stories the way they want to share stories, even if it¡¯s not the truth. If everyone is a liar, then there¡¯s nothing worth believing. Maybe it¡¯s true. Maybe there¡¯s nobody in the world to trust except yourself. For Aspen, the hardest person to trust is herself.


    Juno scowls. Aspen spent a hundred nights wishing she could see her sister again.


    ¡°Why are you so angry, Ciel? Mom and Dad thought I was dead, too.¡± This is the first time Juno has spoken. She sounds like herself. Even though there¡¯s enough space on the furniture, she sits on the floor. ¡°Everyone did.¡± There¡¯s a drawing on her cheek made of marker. ¡°Even I did.¡±


    The air feels cold and harsh. It feels like the calluses on Ronnie¡¯s knuckles brushing on Aspen¡¯s face. You can try your best to move on from a person, but they always have a way of sneaking up on you in the moments you think you¡¯re healed.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to take her side, you know. No responsible parent thinks their daughter is dead when she¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°I remember dying.¡±


    Juno doesn¡¯t know it, but she¡¯s the only one who hasn¡¯t watched someone die. She talks loudly, and then softly, ¡°I remember dying. And I remember waking up, thinking I was in some kind of afterlife. It was noisy, and everyone was dressed in white-¡±


    ¡°So what, then?¡± Ciel shouts, making Juno jump. ¡°You were dead, and then you weren¡¯t. Then what? You ran away to fake your own death? Or maybe you wanted to fake your death the whole time, but couldn¡¯t handle the guilt.¡±


    It¡¯s beginning to rain. The girls played a game when they were young, trying to determine who could make a puddle splash the furthest. Aspen always won. Life happens too quickly. You wake up one morning and your childhood is over, and it never comes back.


    When she feels nervous, Juno scratches her face. She¡¯s done this since childhood. Today, she scratches so hard, she leaves a red mark. Aspen was always the one to pick fights. Ciel was always the one to mediate them.


    Aspen¡¯s father sits up straight, looking gray. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to your sister that way. She¡¯s been through something traumatic, and she needs our support.¡± It¡¯s about Juno now. Maybe she¡¯s still dying. Maybe she¡¯s not here at all.


    It probably wasn¡¯t supposed to go like this. Ciel stands in the doorway, an unlit cigarette between his teeth, sounding like he¡¯s tasting something sour. ¡°Did you know that Aspen has PTSD from her ex-boyfriend? She wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and just stares into space, rocking back and forth until the sun comes up. You didn¡¯t know that, did you? You don¡¯t care. All you ever cared about was Juno.¡± Nobody should care. Aspen didn¡¯t come here to talk about her. This isn¡¯t Ciel. He won¡¯t speak about when he became angry, but it oozes out of him like a waterfall. It¡¯s true. No one will ever talk about it.


    It¡¯s quiet. Juno wants to speak, but doesn¡¯t. Aspen stands, shuffling her feet on the carpet after they turn to brick. She isn¡¯t a girl who hugs, or cries, or feels sentimental. When Ciel opens the door to step outside, she takes him by the wrist. ¡°I love you.¡±


    Funerals are for the living. Dead people don¡¯t need closure.


    Ciel always lets Aspen hug him. It¡¯s not as if she does it all the time. Though he softens a bit, it takes effort to keep his voice steady. ¡°Congratulations. You got back a kid you didn¡¯t even deserve, You have no idea how good your lives are.¡±


    Juno looks sadly at Aspen. There¡¯s so much to say, and no time at all. When the door shuts, Aspen sits.


    ¡°If you weren¡¯t dead, then where were you?¡±


    Aspen should be angry. She should feel betrayed, or relieved. It¡¯s fucked up to admit, but things feel strange. When someone dies, you mourn for a while, and then you get used to the fact that they won¡¯t be around anymore. There became a new normal outside of Juno, and it took nearly a year to find. And now it¡¯s gone, like everything else Aspen used to believe in. Everybody lies. Some people are better at it than others.


    It doesn¡¯t make sense: Juno, sitting with her legs crossed on the living room floor, like the past year never happened, like life never changed at all. She looks at her parents, who suddenly seem very old. ¡°I was in a coma. And, when I woke up, I was on the other side of the world, and everyone was saying I¡¯d been there all along.¡± Juno was never the type of person to tell lies. This is her best quality, but it seems pointless now. Ciel sits in the car, unlikely to come back inside. Aspen¡¯s hands feel very heavy.


    The last thing Ronnie ever said to Aspen was that he loved her. He said this with blood in his mouth, the words gargling between his teeth and rattling in her ears for weeks afterwards. She could never stay mad at him. She¡¯d forgiven him before he was even dead.


    ¡°How did you get to the other side of the world? What does that even mean?¡±


    According to Aspen¡¯s parents, she was never good at understanding the way the world worked. You¡¯re naive, they¡¯d say, each time she made a mistake, you¡¯re too young to understand adult issues. Aspen isn¡¯t stupid. Everybody else is.


    The envelope in Juno¡¯s hands is crinkled and silver; her fingers leave an indent from gripping so hard. She stares at her mother, moving her mouth, making no sound until she stands, stiff, to lean against the wall. ¡°Your sister was never jealous of you.¡±  She speaks with the weariness of an old woman. She seems aged. Maybe, when she died, something changed her. ¡°Verena was never jealous of you, Mom. She was angry.¡±


    Aspen wonders what she holds in her hands. There¡¯s a twisted part of her that wishes Juno was still dead.


    Anika sits very close to her husband. Her face is no longer wet, but she acts hurt, even though she has no reason to be. ¡°What are you holding in that envelope?¡± There¡¯s more, surely, that she wants to say. For as long as she can remember, Aspen¡¯s parents never held their tongues.


    Aspen wonders this, too. Juno doesn¡¯t seem all that willing to share.


    ¡°She took me.¡±


    Juno squints, watching out the window as a car drives by. She doesn¡¯t look sick anymore. She doesn¡¯t look like Juno, either. ¡°Verena took me. I was in a coma. Verena used your name and picture to get the hospital to transfer me, and she let you believe I was dead.¡±


    There¡¯s little that Anika shares about her siblings. It¡¯s strange to think of her as a little girl, begging for attention from her parents, or feeling scared after having a bad dream. It always seems like our parents are born as adults, and have no lives before they have children. Anika left home at an early age, and she never talks about why.


    Verena was always jealous of me, Anika says, like it¡¯s something to be proud of. I¡¯m smarter than her, and that¡¯s why I never struggled to support my family the way she did.


    In a way, it was never about smarts at all. Aspen never wondered where her mother would have ended up if not for her husband. Mark, a university professor in his seventies, was a well-established man long before meeting Anika. Though she claims to have contributed to Mark¡¯s finances, it really has nothing to do with her at all.


    The woman stands, Mark¡¯s hand on hers. Outside the house, Ciel talks on the phone.


    ¡°What¡¯s in the envelope, Juno?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a journal entry.¡± When Anika grasps at it, Juno moves away. She looks at Aspen in a way she hasn¡¯t in a while; the look of an older sibling with a secret. ¡°Pim wrote it. You never wanted Ivo to see it.¡± Something odd is happening. Anika looks, strangely, almost human.


    Juno is taller than her, but not by much. It must be hard to act tough and strict all the time. Some people should never become parents. Aspen sometimes wonders how many possible paths her life could have taken, just by chance.


    Anika sits, the harsh look on her face crumbling. Maybe, like others, Anika has trauma she never talks about. ¡°Pim always was a great writer,¡± she says, letting her hands drop into her lap. ¡°He could have made something of himself.¡±


    ¡°He loved you.¡± Juno isn¡¯t the same soft-spoken woman she used to be. She stands tall and speaks bluntly, even when her mother looks upset. ¡°He loved Ivo, too, but you never wanted him to know it. You feel responsible for his addiction. You think it¡¯s your fault what happened.¡±


    Mark stands, glancing at Juno sharply. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s too hard to blame yourself, and you couldn¡¯t bear feeling guilty.¡± Juno¡¯s kind of cool now. She doesn¡¯t let anyone get a word in edgewise. ¡°So you blamed Ivo instead, because it felt better to make Pim¡¯s death someone else¡¯s fault. He told you that he was struggling, and you never believed him¡±.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡±


    It never used to be intimidating when Aspen¡¯s father raised his voice. When he does it now, a wave of panic floods her, and everything goes blurry. Anika scurries upstairs, refusing to look back. With a disapproving look at Juno, Mark follows her.

 XXXVII. I鈥檒l Put Rainclouds In Your Hair

    It¡¯s very hard to gain the trust of the teenager inside Bellamy¡¯s head. He¡¯s traumatized and mistrustful, and shows Ciel hostility each time he comes around. Although it¡¯s difficult to not take this personally, it¡¯s important to be patient. Not too long ago, Ciel began attending therapy sessions with Bellamy on her request. This helps them in different ways. ¡°He¡¯s angry and hostile, but he saved my life,¡± says Bellamy about Tin, when he lashes out at Ciel for a perceived threat, or starts fights in an attempt to draw him away. ¡°Be nice to him.¡±


    Tin likes science fiction and music. Sometimes he reminds Ciel of Ivo.


    Zoya is twenty one years old, and dresses in black when she¡¯s not pretending to be someone else. It¡¯s strange. It feels, a lot of the time, like Ciel is dating multiple people. He supposes, in a way, he is. Zoya is different from Bellamy in ways that most people don¡¯t pick up on. It takes more effort and communication than the average relationship. Weeks ago, Bellamy shared her boundaries for their relationship. Every day, Ciel gets a little better at communicating with everyone individually.


    ¡°I had a trauma dream.¡±


    Zoya likes him in the same way Bellamy does - but she¡¯s young, and it took a while to open up to the possibility of a relationship with her. Bellamy calls her apparently normal part, like herself. Ciel spends most of his free time trying to understand how her brain works.  Zoya lies in bed beside him, having woken him very early in the morning. She never falls asleep quickly. There¡¯s no telling where Bellamy went, or when she¡¯ll be back. Sometimes, Zoya says, parts stay dormant for years.


    Ciel¡¯s half asleep. ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    His sisters have been texting him all week. After enough ignored messages, they always eventually give up. He should be happy and relieved to know that Juno isn¡¯t dead. Maybe it¡¯s selfish not to be. The most ordinary adults get a second chance at life, and little children stay dead.


    His trailer is a mess. Further down the park, there¡¯s a forest that Zoya loves getting lost inside. She hugs him from behind, her sleep shirt itchy on his back. She has quirks that would seem strange to most people. He never points them out. She stops on the side of the highway to poke at roadkill with sticks, and ventures out late at night to meditate in cemeteries, and always dresses head to toe in black. She says it makes her feel calm and comforted, and brings her peace with death. Alters can¡¯t die. They just go dormant for months or years at a time.


    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re still here. I thought for sure someone would have scared you off by now.¡± It¡¯s cold. Zoya doesn¡¯t often feel cold, and sleeps in a thin tee shirt and shorts. She¡¯s more adventurous than Bellamy, but not quite as expressive. Her hands are warm and sweaty, holding him very tightly. He doesn¡¯t mind this.  It¡¯s been a while since he¡¯s had someone to keep him company at night. There are times that feel like it would be easier to give up and move on - and maybe it would. It¡¯s not supposed to be easy, he¡¯s learned. Every relationship has its challenges. It¡¯s just a matter of figuring out which people are worth overcoming challenges for.


    ¡°I¡¯m hard to scare.¡±


    He turns. It¡¯s so hard, sometimes, to make sense of subtle details. Bellamy says it takes a lot of trust: and this is the hardest part. Ciel spends a lot of time at Bellamy¡¯s house. This is her safe space, she says: the only place she feels fully comfortable to be herself. She has an angel in her system called Jesper, who only speaks inside her head, and isn¡¯t known to anybody else.


    Once Zoya wakes up, she can¡¯t get back to sleep. Her mind is too full, she says, of memories. After a nightmare, she always wakes loudly, gasping, sweating. Bellamy is the same way. Sometimes, when Ciel is still up, he wakes her before a nightmare hits. Zoya plays with his hair, one arm wrapped around his waist. He loves Bellamy. He tries hard to love Zoya, too.


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    ¡°You never try to fix us,¡±  said Bellamy, ¡°you just do your best to love and understand us, and that¡¯s the most anyone has ever done.¡±


    One night, after a stupid, late-night argument, Maria went out with friends, leaving Ciel in charge of putting Calypso to bed. This was something he enjoyed - and they had a routine. He¡¯d tell her a bedtime story, and then tuck all of her favorite stuffed animals into bed with her before saying goodnight. She was afraid of the dark, and insects. She giggled at all of Ciel¡¯s stupidest jokes.


    ¡°Daddy?¡± she said one night, staring up at him from underneath her pink princess blanket. It was late. When Maria was out, he always let her stay up past her bedtime. ¡°Do you and Mommy still love each other?¡±


    Calypso didn¡¯t understand adult topics. She loved everyone in the same way.


    When he didn¡¯t tuck her in, she couldn¡¯t sleep. Sometimes he snuck into her room when she was sleeping and crawled into her bed.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t we?¡±


    Children are smart, as much as some people want to think otherwise. Children perceive and understand things that adults aren¡¯t even aware of, and it shapes their whole lives. Calypso sat up, her night-light casting shadows across her face. She was a cheerful little girl, but she picked up on other people¡¯s feelings, and this was a detriment in the end. ¡°You argue all the time. Mommy goes out for a long time.¡±


    It¡¯s hard to explain relationships to children. We argue over things we care about, with people who mean something to us. It was always better to be overly passionate than not to care at all. Like her mother, Calypso could silence him with just a look. Maria was a woman who could have single-handedly raised a warrior: and maybe, in some other universe, that¡¯s exactly what she¡¯s doing.


    Each time Ciel hugged his daughter, she nuzzled into him. He misses this. ¡°Arguing isn¡¯t always a bad thing,¡± he said, although he wasn¡¯t sure this was true. ¡°It means you care about something.¡± It¡¯s hard to explain this to a child: even one as smart as Calypso. Over the course of his relationship, he questioned once or twice if he was with Maria out of love or out of loneliness. It¡¯s probably a normal thing to wonder, but it always made him feel guilty.


    Calypso was born in June, a day after Ciel argued with Maria. They argued a lot. They always had sex to solve their problems, and it never solved anything.


    ¡°You seem sad. What are you thinking about?¡±


    Things never turn out the way you expect them to. You could plan your future down to the last detail, and end up somewhere as far away from it as possible. Even the people you love turn out to be someone different.


    ¡°It¡¯s her birthday.¡±


    Everybody knows about Calypso. She¡¯s been written about more than once in Bellamy¡¯s system notebook. There¡¯s a picture of her inside Ciel¡¯s wallet. Sometimes, the littles draw pictures of her. Inside the system, there¡¯s a caretaker named Star, whom Ciel has never met. Bellamy talks little about the others.


    Zoya sits on her knees, playing with his hair. For a long time after the accident, it was hard for Ciel to understand that he still deserved to feel loved. The hardest part of any accident is forgiving yourself. Some days, he¡¯s still convinced all of it was his fault. How should he be allowed to continue living when no one else did?


    Zoya means well. Sometimes, she¡¯s just not very good at reading the room. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Calypso. She would have been nine.¡±


    Has it been that long already? It feels like yesterday she was giggling at a silly joke she told.


    Anika used to say that the ones we love never really leave us, and maybe that¡¯s true. They¡¯ll always be in our hearts, she¡¯d say, as if this makes up for watching them die. It sounds undesirable: hanging around after death, trapped in the same place you¡¯ve been your whole life, forbidden from moving on even in death. If there¡¯s an afterlife, Ciel would hate to end up there.


    ¡°Come watch a movie with me,¡± Zoya says, holding out her hand. ¡°Maybe it will cheer you up a little.¡± She doesn¡¯t smile. She tells jokes with a straight face, leaving Ciel uncertain if it¡¯s okay to laugh. Like Bellamy, Zoya struggles to understand herself, sitting on the floor in the corner of her room, curling her knees up to her chest to stare into space. Every night, when the sun goes down, she sits outside underneath the sky for a very long time.

 XXXVIII. submerged in honey

    It wasn¡¯t always like this, but trauma changes people. The responsibility of a middle child is to mediate and obey, and at some point, this becomes second nature. The oldest does everything first: learns to read, rides a bike, graduates - so that, by the time the second child completes these same things, no one is excited anymore. For four years after her birth, Anika was the youngest.


    It wasn¡¯t always like this. In 1976, when Anika¡¯s parents came home from the hospital with a baby boy, she doted on him. It was like this for many years. Every parent has a favorite child: even the ones who insist they love all their children equally. Growing up, the only way Anika got noticed was by acting out. She knows what they say. Bad attention is better than no attention at all.


    Pim didn¡¯t look like the rest of the family. Because of this, and because he was the only boy, he was coddled. Strangers would stop him on the street to say he was beautiful, or to ask for a photograph, as though he were a sideshow at a circus. From the time he was old enough to walk, he followed Anika around, because he simply never fit in anywhere else.


    ¡°You¡¯ve always been so popular,¡± he¡¯d say, looking like a ghost. ¡°I want to be popular too.¡±


    Pim used to call her Stinky. She complained about this all the time, and he never cared.


    On the table inside the front door, there¡¯s a small manila envelope that Juno brought home with her. Anika always knew about the letter. It¡¯s undated, like everything Pim wrote. Though it was given to her with the rest of his things, she never had much use for it. In his teenage years, Pim kept a journal, and Anika teased him for this. ¡°No one in real life ever listens to me,¡± he told her once, ¡°so a paper and a pencil is all I have.¡± After his death, the journal was given to Anika with the rest of his things. Fearing the things he might have written about her, she never read it.


    Family relationships are complicated. Verena was distant and bossy, believing anybody younger than her to be incompetent and in need of guidance. Pim was a golden child who blamed his bad behaviors on Anika, and always got away with them. Before he was born, she got away with things too.


    The last time Anika spoke to her brother, she was pregnant with her third child. Very early in the morning, when she was having trouble sleeping, he called her on the phone.


    Pim liked nature, poetry, rain, and conspiracies. He was a kind and gentle man. Anika ruined him, all for a little stupid fun. Things were never supposed to happen the way they did. The most perfect-seeming families harbor the darkest secrets. After a while, she couldn¡¯t bear to look at her brother at all.


    All Ivo ever did was remind Anika of her mistakes. When she met him at the airport, he looked like the little boy who woke her up in the middle of the night, saying that he¡¯d had a bad dream. He looked like the teenager whose eyes rolled at random, who fell asleep in the middle of conversations. It wasn¡¯t always heroin. Pim looked up to Anika. She was his biggest bully. She¡¯s seen many memories in Ivo over the years. Memories aren¡¯t always something worth remembering.


    ¡°I¡¯m clean now, Stinky. I have a kid, and I got clean for him.¡± She was never sure what went wrong. He was well, and then he wasn¡¯t. ¡°If anything ever happens to me, I want you to take him. Would you do that?¡±


    Anika was nineteen when she first tried opium. No one ever knew this about her, except Pim.


    ¡°Why would you want me to take him? I¡¯m the reason you had to get clean in the first place.¡±


    All the best parents doubt themselves. That¡¯s what they say, anyway. If your parents raise you and do their best to give you a good life, the least you can do is be appreciative. Pim always wanted to be a parent. He was never in the right state of mind to do this well.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re my best friend, Stinky, and I¡¯d want him to go to someone I love.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever miss him?¡± Juno asked, after scolding her mother for the secrets she keeps. Everyone keeps secrets. You¡¯d have to have led a boring life otherwise. ¡°It¡¯s okay to admit that you miss people, you know.¡± Juno¡¯s a child. Juno doesn¡¯t know what it feels like to betray the people you love the most.


    On Anika¡¯s last hospital visit, Juno was very small and thin, sleeping restlessly in her hospital bed. She was intubated, poked and prodded with needles and syringes, looking like a child. Juno was a curious child. She never really grew out of this. A few months into her coma, Juno was transferred to a hospital in another part of the state, too far out of the way, and Anika was promised necessary updates. During the course of her illness, Juno spent a lot of time talking about death. She seldom spoke to her parents. She showed up on their doorstep without warning in the middle of the night.


    Nobody ever wants to die. The thing about Pim was that he would have done anything to give his child the chance to have a father, even if it meant living in misery. He wasn¡¯t always paranoid and cynical, after all. As a preteen, he confided secrets to Anika that no one should have known, least of all her. When she got older, she realized he had no one else to confide in.


    You can¡¯t tell this to anyone, but he touched me somewhere he shouldn¡¯t have.  The physician. When I was there yesterday. If I ever have a son, I¡¯ll never make him visit the doctor.


    Anika wasn¡¯t always a religious woman. In secondary school and college, she was known for the parties she threw when her parents were out of town, and the elaborate stories she told to prevent them from finding out. In the early nineties, she moved to America after a year of college, and she left her party days behind her.


    ¡°Come on, I thought you wanted to be popular.¡±


    At one of her last parties in the Netherlands, Anika teased her brother for his aversion to taking risks. He followed her around, never having been to a party before, but desperately wanting to meet new people. Pim was sixteen when Anika dangled a bag of opium pills in front of his face, sticking her tongue out at him.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°If you want to be popular, you have to do what all the popular kids do. Take some pills. Come on, don¡¯t be a little bitch.¡±  Anika never had a drug problem. She got high for fun, once or twice, and then she grew up. Pim was insecure and depressed, and deeply desperate for acceptance. This made it easy to get under his skin. At the end of the night, he was the one who asked for a bag of his own. It was never meant to kill him. After speaking to him on the phone about his toddler, she never spoke to him again.


    Anika met her husband when she was twenty one, and married him three years later. Mark was in his forties: going gray, and he paid attention to her in a way no man had done before. He never met her siblings, and she has no plans to return to her home country. The moment Anika crossed the border into the United States, she left her old life completely behind, never to be spoken of again.


    It was very late when she received a call from a private number. They say, when you¡¯re close to someone, you can feel when something has gone wrong, even if you¡¯re miles away. Funerals are for the living, Aspen said once. The dead aren¡¯t the ones who need to be comforted.


    ¡°If anything ever happens to me, I know you¡¯ll love him like you love your own kids. You¡¯ll do that for me, right, Stinky?¡±


    God, he¡¯d be so disappointed in her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to grow up to be like Papa,¡± Pim said as a teenager, lying on Anika¡¯s bedroom floor, keeping her company when she put on makeup for a party. He didn¡¯t elaborate on this, but she knew what he meant. Anika always believed herself to be unique and intelligent. In her twenties, she began hearing her father when she spoke. ¡°I feel sad all the time, and Papa says I have to be strong and tough, and sometimes I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    Anika¡¯s father, Sander, was four years old when Nazi Germany invaded the country. He claims not to remember it, but Anika never believed this. She hasn¡¯t spoken to her parents in almost twenty years, even though they still send holiday cards every year. Her husband used to suggest giving them a call, or sending them a photo of the children. After a while, he stopped bringing it up altogether. Mark is seventy years old. He was married once before Anika, but had no children when they met. For most of her youth, she had no desire to be a mother, and this was probably for the best. Mark brought out this desire in her. You can¡¯t really be taught how to be a parent. It either comes naturally to you, or it doesn¡¯t. Anika is impatient. Mark says she never learned how to admit when she¡¯s wrong.


    ¡°Maybe Pa¡¯s right,¡± said Anika, after her brother admitted he¡¯d been feeling depressed, ¡°maybe you should man up a little. Life is not that bad.¡±


    Haven¡¯t you ever had a big regret? Something that you did in the spur of the moment, or out of anger, that you¡¯d give anything to take back?


    If you don¡¯t acknowledge your mistakes, they can¡¯t hurt you. If you don¡¯t admit your mistakes to anyone, nobody can use them against you.


    Since coming back to Alaska, Juno has moved back in with her parents. She says she feels safest here, but rarely ventures out of the house. She looks healthy and refreshed one day, and very tired the next. When Anika asks Juno about her time with Verena, she receives aloof and impersonal answers. The other children don¡¯t visit, and rarely respond to her texts. Mark says give them space, as though a mother deserves to be ignored. You can put your whole life into someone and get nothing in return.


    ¡°You should probably mail that.¡±


    Juno sits in the kitchen, nibbling on a fruit bowl. She used to hate fruit. ¡°That envelope. It wasn¡¯t for you to keep.¡± Children grow up so unpredictably. Before being taken, Juno was naive and timid, and in need of Anika¡¯s protection. She¡¯s no longer timid. She seems like a stranger. ¡°If you don¡¯t mail it, I will.¡±


    ¡°Take it home with you and deliver it.¡±


    There are relationships worth salvaging. There are others worth cutting off and never speaking of again. Most people struggle to know which is which. Anika is smarter than her parents gave her credit for. Maybe, if she hadn¡¯t had to compete with her sister all her life, she would have turned out differently. Growing up, the thing she argued with Verena most about was her bossiness. Anika was always second-best: expected to be as smart as Verena, as accomplished, as organized. She never was.


    Like anyone, Anika has done things she regrets. Perhaps the guilt would lessen if she repented. Perhaps she¡¯d feel better after praying and attending mass, like a good religious woman. The first time Anika stepped foot in a church, she was twenty one years old. After this, she never really left.


    Juno blinks. Her head is still shaved, and it makes her look like a boy. ¡°Ivo doesn¡¯t live with me. He hasn¡¯t for months.¡±


    Anika has never cared much for her nephew. She tries to get along with him, but she has little patience for disrespect, and he¡¯s too different from his father. ¡°Where does he live, then?¡±


    ¡°I dunno.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s helpful.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask Aspen.¡± Juno finishes her plate, stands to put it in the sink. ¡°She would know. Ivo doesn¡¯t have a phone, anyway.¡± She sits back at the table, scratching her bald head with chewed fingernails. ¡°If you want to contact him, you have to call Rio.¡± Anika doesn¡¯t know this name, and doesn¡¯t care to ask. Juno looks at her for a long time, saying nothing. She doesn¡¯t look like a little child anymore.


    ¡°Have you ever done drugs before?¡±


    It¡¯s warm. Being reminded of her sins makes Anika feel dirty. ¡°Why would you ask me that? Do you think that¡¯s an appropriate question to ask your mother?¡±


    Juno was always the smartest of Anika¡¯s children. Despite this, she makes stupid decisions. ¡°I¡¯m just wondering.¡± Juno rests her elbows on the table, showing off her bad etiquette. ¡°I¡¯m not going to judge you if you have.¡± She¡¯s heard things from her aunt that are not hers to know. No one is as innocent as they seem. ¡°It¡¯s okay to make mistakes, you know,¡± Juno says, looking Anika in the eyes. She speaks as though she¡¯s an old woman with a lifetime behind her. ¡°But you can¡¯t let them control you for the rest of your life.¡± She knows nothing about the lives of her parents. Anika prefers it this way. Juno died briefly, and now she thinks she¡¯s omniscient.


    ¡°This is all your fault,¡± Verena shouted, the last time she spoke to Anika on the phone. It was years ago, when Aspen was a baby, long after Anika had forced herself to forget about life in Europe. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t let him come to that stupid party, he would never have turned out like this.¡±


    What kind of human abandons the person they love the most? It¡¯s the coward¡¯s way out, and the coward isn¡¯t worthy of forgiveness. The only way to make up for your sins is to dedicate the rest of your life to doing well and serving.


    He asked me for money again. He said he and the baby are getting evicted again.


    It wasn¡¯t always like this. Pim could have become a writer, or an artist, or a traveler. This is where he was supposed to end up. Juno walks noiselessly down the hallway like a wraith, shutting the door of the bedroom quietly. She¡¯s left the manila envelope on the table; Anika takes it. She could read its contents. They were never meant for her to see.


    Down the road is the mailbox where Anika picks up the mail. When she returns from her bedroom, there are words on the envelope: an address, scribbled in Juno¡¯s messy printing.


    This is your cousin, Ivo. He¡¯s from the Netherlands, but he lives with us now. Be nice to each other.


    She owed her brother. No matter how badly Ivo behaved, she couldn¡¯t break a promise.


    It¡¯s sunny. After standing still in front of the mailboxes for several minutes, Anika sighs and drops the envelope inside, listening to it fall.

 XXXIX. YOUR NAME IN LIGHTS

    In Jewish mythology, a dybbuk is a malicious spirit, believed to be the soul of a deceased person. The term first appeared in a number of sixteenth century texts, popularized by a play called The Dybbuk in the early nineteen hundreds. A dybbuk is believed to possess the body until it has completed an unfinished task, sometimes vanishing through exorcism, and sometimes of its own accord. Traditionally, it was a male spirit, possessing the bodies of women on the eve of their weddings, and hiding inside of them.


    The pain never goes away. Some days are better than others, but none are worth living. At inopportune times, Ivo¡¯s legs go numb, making him stumble and fall. Touch turns to fire, burning through him at random and never really leaving. Self-pity comes easy to most people. Most people deserve to be pitied. Since leaving the hospital, he¡¯s been prescribed a mountain of medications that would cost a fortune in America, and recommended regular physiotherapy. This seems useless. Most days, leaving the house seems useless.


    It¡¯s a beautiful day, and Ivo can¡¯t see it.


    The bath water is warm. This is what Rio said, anyway, before he left for school. He studies too much, and stays out late working or attending classes. Each morning, when he goes out, he leaves a fresh iced coffee on Ivo¡¯s nightstand. Two months ago, Ivo moved to Dordrecht after complaining about the cost of his medical bills. Though he wasn¡¯t the one who brought up the idea, everyone knows he hated America. The best part of all of this was leaving without telling anyone.


    Ivo doesn¡¯t work, aside from occasionally translating articles online. Due to paresthesia and weakness in his fingers, it¡¯s challenging to use a computer, or to hold objects, or to do much of anything. It¡¯s not as if he wants to work for someone else, anyway. The rich only get richer, while the labor of everyone else is taken advantage of. Rio seems to think it¡¯s possible to make a difference in the world. When he¡¯s dead, no one will remember any of these efforts.


    It¡¯s too warm. The bath water eases the pain a little, but Ivo hates baths, and it takes too long to get out by himself. The rug in the bathroom is soft, but his feet tingle when he steps on it, and he stumbles. He should be dead. It¡¯s not as if anyone would care or notice, anyway.


    Ivo has been married for five months. It took a while for Rio to talk him into it: a quick paper signing at the courthouse, with Rio¡¯s parents as witnesses. It¡¯s uncomfortable to rely on other people, or to care about them. Ivo is distant and uncommunicative, and Rio tries too hard to be understanding. During the wedding ceremony, Rio insisted on wearing a blindfold, saying he wanted the same experience as Ivo, thinking this was a grand romantic gesture. He¡¯s an idiot. Ivo wouldn¡¯t have him any other way.


    Ivo naps a lot. There¡¯s nothing else worth doing anymore, and he always feels tired. On the floor next to his side of the bed, there¡¯s a cane he refuses to use, and a couple mobility aids.


    Don¡¯t you think it feels better to let yourself feel things than to push everybody away? You deserve to be loved, just like anybody else.


    The problem with feeling is that it leaves you alone and wishing you¡¯d never felt anything at all. Maybe, some think it¡¯s better to live and hurt than to never live at all - but people can¡¯t break you unless you let them get under your skin.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got mail.¡±


    Everything burns now: even the softness of Rio¡¯s touch when he says good morning. Everything changes, and this is the scariest part. The room is too bright, and gives him a headache. Even when Rio switches out the bulbs for something dim, they make his eyes feel achy.


    You always claim not to care. But I think that really, you care too much, and you don¡¯t want to get hurt.


    People think they know you, even without ever speaking to you at all. Ivo is secretive and self-serving, and no one knows anything they¡¯re not supposed to. People find comfort in changing narratives to suit their own preferences, sifting through unpleasant truths, elaborating the rest. People are bad liars, but insist otherwise. No one knows a thing.


    ¡°Hey, Four-Eyes, did you hear me? I said you¡¯ve got mail.¡±


    Rio lies beside him, smelling like fruit. He¡¯s got a girlfriend now. Ivo couldn¡¯t care less.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    It¡¯s easy to be unappreciative - but even the harshest words don¡¯t seem to threaten Rio. He doesn¡¯t argue. This is the most infuriating thing about him. He touches Ivo¡¯s face as though he¡¯s breakable. ¡°It¡¯s from Anika.¡±


    Ivo hasn¡¯t spoken to his aunt in years. The day he left, they argued about his lack of graciousness toward her - she expected appreciation for taking him in, and he loathed being given directions. There¡¯s probably things he doesn¡¯t know about Anika¡¯s childhood, but she never brought them up, and he never cared enough to ask.


    Juno isn¡¯t dead. Ivo has known this for months, and no one ever believed him when he brought it up.


    One of the problems with Rio is that he talks: not to betray the people around him, but to keep people updated about his life. Sometimes, his life involves Ivo. It¡¯s impossible to be unknown. The idea behind leaving is always to be incognito.


    ¡°Stop telling people where I live, dipshit. If I wanted my location to be revealed, I¡¯d get a fucking phone.¡±


    There¡¯s a cat under the bed. Ivo found it on the street a couple of days ago, and no one could find a home for it. He had a dog, briefly, in childhood. Like everything else, the dog got left behind. Ivo named the cat Kaj. Unlike humans, cats understand the concept of personal space.


    ¡°Pim wrote it.¡±


    Rio says nothing about speaking to Ivo¡¯s family. The man updates him regularly about things he doesn¡¯t care about: Juno came home, Aspen made a new friend, none of it matters. Rio calls home once a week to talk to his parents, and Ivo makes fun of him for acting like a bootlicker. It¡¯s late in the day. Ivo can tell by the position of the sun in the sky, and the way the light hits his face. Most people can¡¯t do this. Most people have no sense of self-reliance.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Everybody has secrets. The lives of other people should mean nothing to you.


    ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡±


    After a while, stoicism gets exhausting. If you want to be taken seriously as a man, stoicism is a necessity. This is something Pim said all the time, when Ivo was a kid. He¡¯s been this way for far too long to become any different. Rio scratches the cat, who purrs and butts its head into Ivo. ¡°In the envelope. It¡¯s something Pim wrote. It was supposed to go with you after he died. Juno found it at Verena¡¯s house.¡±


    Even with the curtains drawn, the sun is too warm. Ivo missed home, but it doesn¡¯t feel the same. ¡°Why am I supposed to give a shit? Juno¡¯s a dumb bitch. You¡¯re an asshole. You think you can fix everything, but you can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I don''t want to fix you.¡± Rio massages his shoulders, which are tense. ¡°I want to love you even though you¡¯re broken.¡±


    They say everyone deserves to be forgiven if they just apologize. Ivo knows that most people don¡¯t apologize out of guilt. Humans like to make themselves seem better than they are, and apologize to make themselves seem this way. Ivo doesn¡¯t lack empathy. He doesn¡¯t waste emotions on those who are undeserving. No one exists without a desire to prove their own superiority. Ivo rolls out of Rio¡¯s reach. ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    Ivo can¡¯t lie. He¡¯s never trusted a person in his life until Rio.


    His knees buckle when he stands. The bedroom floor is carpeted and cold, and makes his feet feel prickly. It¡¯s a strange sensation to describe. When his feet lose feeling without warning, he tumbles forward. Rio, who loves acting like a saint, catches him before he hits the floor.


    What do you think, Ivo? Should we take the train or the bus?


    It doesn¡¯t matter, Papa. I just want to go somewhere with you.


    Why would you marry a man who does everything in his power to make you feel worthless?


    Rio says he loves him. Words are easy to say, and lies are easy to tell. Ivo has been telling them his whole life. Trusting someone means letting them hurt you, and then trying to clean up the mess they leave behind. He shoves Rio, who never shoves him back. ¡°Letting people treat you like shit doesn¡¯t make you a good person, you know.¡± Ivo isn¡¯t a good person. He¡¯s known this for years.  ¡°You¡¯re a pushover and a bitch, and you hang out with people who are more fucked up than you because it makes you feel better about your own mistakes.¡±


    There¡¯s a sour taste in Ivo¡¯s mouth. No matter how hard he tries to seem apathetic, everything erupts out of him in the end. The cat meows. Rio sits in front of him.


    ¡°He loved you.¡±


    Pim had blue eyes, too. Sometimes, when Ivo looked at him, it felt like the man could see right through him. ¡°Bullshit.¡± He never means to explode. He¡¯s unpredictable, and always feels regret after letting his guard down. ¡°I was never worth loving.¡±


    Ivo longs to see the details of Rio¡¯s face, and the marks on his body. He¡¯s never been able to see the details in things, and it didn¡¯t become a nuisance until now.


    Stop making me feel things, asshole. You¡¯re the only one with the power to either put me back together, or break me completely.


    It¡¯s hard to get comfortable. There¡¯s an envelope on the floor in front of the men, and Ivo can¡¯t let curiosity get the better of him. Being paid attention to in a way that¡¯s more than just criticism makes him feel uneasy. His wedding ring is slim and gold, and cost more than it should have.


    ¡°Why do you think I married you?¡±


    Everybody has trauma they don¡¯t talk about. And maybe it involves you, and maybe it doesn¡¯t. But it¡¯s not your responsibility to tiptoe around other people so they don¡¯t get upset.


    ¡°You feel bad for me. All I do is insult the people I love.¡±


    ¡°You love me, Four-Eyes?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± How can a person know what love means if they¡¯ve never felt it before? ¡°You¡¯re annoying. You drive me crazy.¡± There¡¯s no reason Rio should still be here. Being alone has its perks. No one is worth spending time around except Rio.


    He chuckles. ¡°You can tell me you love me, you know. I won¡¯t make fun of you.¡±


    It should be easy to tell, shouldn¡¯t it, when you love someone? Ivo loved Pim, when he was a little boy, when Pim had his life together. It¡¯s hard to remember when things changed. One day he was a working man and a doting father, and the next, he was a total stranger. It doesn¡¯t matter now. You can do a million good things for someone in your lifetime. Once you¡¯re dead, only the bad things will be remembered. If this is true, what¡¯s the point in doing good at all?


    Rio really is an idiot. You¡¯d have to be, to move across the world for a boy you¡¯ve only known for three years. It was his idea, anyway. One day, when Ivo struggled to find the motivation to get out of bed, Rio asked if he missed home.


    Most people wouldn¡¯t believe it, but Ivo is good with computers. In school, he learned to type by using a typing guide audio, and then memorized the position of letters on the keyboard. Pim, who hated technology as much as Ivo did, refused to let him use computers at home. When he got older and learned to think for himself, Ivo stopped using computers at school, too.


    ¡°How do you expect to complete your essays without a computer?¡± a teacher asked once, thinking he was smart.


    ¡°I have hands, ass beetle,¡±  Ivo had responded, quite sarcastically. He got detention a lot. This was always better than being a suck-up. He always hated school. It never taught him how to succeed in the real world, only how to sit still and shut up, and to do what he was told.


    Rio¡¯s hair is soft and thick, and his chest is bare. He has a lot of piercings; they¡¯re smooth under Ivo¡¯s fingers. The painkillers he¡¯s been given work better some days than others, but never take the pain away completely. On a good day, he moves slowly and struggles to lift his feet. On a bad day, he can hardly get out of bed.


    I wish everything wasn¡¯t dark. I want to see you as more than just a shadow.


    ¡°Open your mail, pretty boy. I think it¡¯s something you needed to see years ago.¡±


    People don¡¯t care enough to help people just for the sake of helping people. Classmates speak to him because they want to feel good about themselves, and prove that they¡¯re good people. Anika sent him a letter from his father because she felt guilty about keeping it, and wanted to ease her conscience. Rio married him because he hates being alone, and it¡¯s more comforting to spend time with someone you know, even if they don¡¯t bring you happiness.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make a difference whether you¡¯re nice to people,¡± Pim said, a lifetime ago. ¡°In the end, everyone only cares about themselves anyway.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault, you know, what happened to your sister. You were just a kid.¡±


    It¡¯s uncomfortable to tell the truth. Even the most honest confession feels like a lie. People tell Ivo they can tell when he¡¯s being dishonest, but this is bullshit. He says things without ever knowing if they¡¯re dishonest at all.


    It¡¯s quiet, but only for a moment. ¡°See, Four-Eyes,¡± says Rio, unexpectedly gentle, ¡°I knew you loved me.¡±


    Humanity is doomed. People are insufferable - Rio most of all. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that, dipshit.¡±


    The way Rio whispers in his ear makes him weak. He¡¯ll never say this out loud. ¡°Oh, Ivo,¡± he says, in a way that makes him tingle, ¡°you didn¡¯t have to.¡± Nothing will ever be the same again. Rio kisses him as though he¡¯ll die if he doesn¡¯t.

 untitled {a journal entry}

    I never meant to end up like this: begging in the streets for my next hit, never feeling like myself unless I¡¯m high. It wasn¡¯t always like this. I loved movies, and poetry, and travel. Now, I can¡¯t find it in myself to love anything at all. I don¡¯t know how I ended up here. I don¡¯t know how to get home. I¡¯m a father. It¡¯s a title reserved for men far stronger than me.


    I don¡¯t want to die. It¡¯s likely I¡¯ll do it anyway, soon, and no one will miss me. I¡¯m not as ingenious as Anika, or as intelligent as Verena. I always wanted to be a father, but I never deserved a child. I¡¯m tired. I¡¯m embarrassed of losing job after job, and hiding in public bathrooms to shoot up before I go on my way. I should have told Ivo I loved him when I had the chance, but I never knew how. I don¡¯t think he would have believed me, anyway.  I hope he grows up and learns what it¡¯s like to feel loved, because I sure as hell never taught him,  and that was my only job.  How do you make someone else feel loved if you¡¯ve never felt it yourself?


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    They say the sun will come out again tomorrow, but I¡¯m afraid of the sun. I don¡¯t trust myself when I¡¯m sober, and I don¡¯t trust myself when I¡¯m high. I want to attend my son¡¯s graduation, and celebrate at his wedding. Somehow, no matter how hard I try to get clean and be a good father, I always end up with track marks on my arms, falling asleep on the train. I was meant to teach my boy how to be a man, and how to treat the people he loves. I¡¯ve never been in love. I always thought I deserved to be, and now I¡¯m not so sure.

 XL. i cannot die if i am not alive

    Cassia loved the color green. She made crowns out of lilies, and handed them out to strangers during holiday seasons. She claimed that everyone was pretty, and told them so, even if they¡¯d never met her before. Sage has many fond memories of Cassia, and it¡¯s hard to choose a favorite. There¡¯s the memory of Cassia running through the sprinkler as Sage chased her, giggling and splashing, squealing when Sage grabbed her and swung her through the air. She was never very heavy. There¡¯s a memory of teaching Cassia the song that never ends, and then following Rio around and singing it to irritate him. Every year for her birthday, Cassia insisted on homemade cakes, and always wanted to help bake them.


    Cassia would be fifteen years old today. There¡¯s no reason to assume she wouldn¡¯t have grown up to be just as compassionate as she was as a child. In the four years she was alive,  she colored on the walls and called herself ugly because a white woman had told her so. She had hair like Sage''s, thick ringlets that couldn¡¯t be brushed without getting frizzy. In the end, her childish curiosity was her downfall. After her death, she was buried in a pod, and planted with a tree. When Sage dies, they hope to become a tree too.


    It¡¯s the middle of the night. Sage has never traveled alone, and it makes them nervous. It¡¯s one thing to drive across the state on your own. Flying across the world by yourself is intimidating and stressful, and Sage hasn¡¯t left the airport yet. They saved money for nine or ten months to afford their own plane tickets, despite offers from their parents to help. There¡¯s something satisfying about providing for yourself, especially as a teenager still living at home.


    Sage has never been out this late. They check in with their parents often: but their fathers are busy men, and make Sage wait for conversation. Aspen, who begged to come along, tells Sage to update her often. Airplanes give Sage anxiety. They keep to themself, and never sit by the window if they can help it. Once getting through security and finding their gate, Sage removes the notebook from their suitcase and works on a song. Recently, someone online suggested Sage make merchandise. People buy clothing they like the style of, even if they don¡¯t understand what it means. If consumers relate to you as a person, they¡¯re more likely to support you. Sage isn¡¯t artistic. Creating merchandise is a good idea in theory, but Sage would have no idea where to start.


    They¡¯ve only been on a plane once before: the day they moved. Just over ten hours long, this flight had seemed endless. When Sage catches the plane tonight, they¡¯ll arrive in fifteen hours.


    This is my big sibling, Sage, Cassia would announce to strangers who didn¡¯t ask, They¡¯re not my sister or my brother.  As pure as she was, Cassia forced people to pay attention to Sage, and this  embarrassed them. She didn¡¯t know any better. Cassia loved Sage, and little children don¡¯t really understand how to be politically correct.


    Planes are crowded and noisy. With a large pair of over-ear headphones, Sage manages to fall asleep.


    When Cassia was born, Sage was three years old, and they watched her birth. All of Surya¡¯s children were born at home, with the assistance of only his husband. Sage isn¡¯t scarred by watching their father give birth. They hardly remember it. Like everyone else, they always doted on Cassia.


    When Sage arrives in Amsterdam, their feet are asleep. Large spaces make Sage anxious, and none of the airport directions make sense. Rio, who helped Sage arrange the trip, promised to pick them up. He¡¯s just as busy as he¡¯s always been, and never responds to their text messages. He was never very good at it. He waits in his car outside the airport, playing a game on a handheld console, wearing the same orange toghu he wore at his high school graduation. Sage is tired, and a little anxious. It¡¯s not a long drive to Rio¡¯s house from here. Sage was too nervous to drive themself.


    ¡°Sup, loser.¡±


    Before Rio moved out, one of Sage''s favorite things to do was to stand in his bedroom door, hovering outside the door frame until he shouted at them to get out of his room. I¡¯m not in your room! Sage would shout back, before laughing and running off. Rio hated this game. When Cassia got old enough to understand, she would play too.


    There¡¯s a glass with a straw in the cup holder between the seats. Amani taught the children how to make njangsa drink years ago. Somehow, Sage always gets it wrong.


    ¡°I think you got uglier since I saw you last.¡±


    Although lots of people like body mods, Sage has never liked them. When Rio split his tongue, it got badly infected and took longer to heal than it should have - but, despite the pain and complications that can come with body modifications, Rio won¡¯t stop getting them done. He sticks out his tongue at Sage, starting the car noisily. He always wants to be the center of attention. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you got on the right plane and didn¡¯t get lost.¡±


    Sage is eager to see the city. They look out the window as they travel, and the trip seems to take forever.


    Rio wears a wedding band. Thick and black, it  looks out of place on him. He always speeds on the highway, even when Sage yells at him to slow down. Loosen up, he says, I¡¯ve never gotten into an accident before. This is a stupid argument. Rio has never done a lot of things. This doesn¡¯t mean they can never happen.


    ¡°How much did you have to pay Ivo to marry you?¡± Sage has never met their brother¡¯s husband before. It feels abnormal to say the words brother and husband in the same sentence. ¡°I imagine that¡¯s the only reason he¡¯d agree.¡±


    They should have brought an extra drink. One water bottle doesn¡¯t last long, and they¡¯d rather die than share a drink with Rio. He smiles: the scar at the corner of his mouth curling up. The scar has been there as long as Sage can remember. It¡¯s been too long to remember what it¡¯s from. Girls think scars make men look badass and attractive. At least, this is what Aspen says. ¡°Please. He¡¯s the one who¡¯d be paying me.¡± Sometimes, Sage isn¡¯t sure Rio is as confident as he pretends to be. People cover up insecurities with humor and superficial conversation, trying to seem like they have their lives together. No one wants to be seen as imperfect by someone else. Sage''s parents say social media has a lot to do with this. It¡¯s hard not to compare yourself to others. But if Rio has insecurities, he does a very good job of hiding them.


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    Sage tries to pretend it doesn¡¯t matter what others think of them. And when it comes to strangers, maybe this is true. A pair of black strappy shoes  sit on the floor at their feet. It wouldn¡¯t be out of character for Rio to wear heels out of the house, but these definitely wouldn¡¯t fit him. ¡°Whose shoes are these?¡±


    Their father is checking in. They have no idea what time it is back home.


    When Sage was younger, they learned how to make vegetarian ndole. Amani prepares it with seaweed and seitan, and serves it to friends and coven members who come to visit. Everyone raves about Sage''s parents¡¯ food, even white people who think it will be too spicy.  In middle school, Sage refused to take their parents¡¯ food to school, because it smelled weird, and because classmates made fun of them. This hurt their parents¡¯ feelings, but they never said anything.


    Rio glances over. ¡°My girlfriend, Sofie¡¯s. She forgot them in here.¡±


    It¡¯s breezy. Sage''s window is down, blowing cold air onto their face. According to the signs on the side of the road, they¡¯re nearly at their destination. ¡°You¡¯ve been here two months. You have a girlfriend already?¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡±  Rio turns into the city, glancing sideways at Sage, ¡°People love me.¡±


    Sage rolls their eyes. ¡°You¡¯re so stupid. Acchan and Papa gave you too much attention growing up.¡± They speak slowly. Sage''s thoughts sometimes move faster than their mouth, and words catch on the way out. When Rio has no good comeback in an argument, he mocks their stutter.


    Would you mock a stranger¡¯s stutter? That¡¯s kind of rude, don¡¯t you think?


    Obviously I wouldn¡¯t. You¡¯re my sibling, so you¡¯re an exception.


    ¡°Here¡¯s my house,¡± says Rio, parking in front of a yellowish bungalow. Sage wonders how he could afford it. Being a child of two doctors means having parents who are always willing and able to help out financially, but feeling a sense of satisfaction and pride in not needing to ask for assistance. ¡°Don¡¯t be too loud. Ivo¡¯s sleeping.¡± He doesn¡¯t wait for Sage before going inside. Sage always feels out of place.


    It¡¯s early evening. Sage only naps when they¡¯re sick.


    Sage follows Rio into the house, which is still full of moving boxes. ¡°Are you sure this is a good idea?¡± An altar sits in the corner of the living room, covered in gemstones and candles.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Sage gestures. ¡°Getting married. Moving overseas for someone else. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but you¡¯re not exactly the commitment type.¡± Sometimes, they say  something that sounds just like their father. Maybe this is just a part of getting older. Maybe Sage would understand if they knew what being in love felt like.


    There¡¯s a kitten in the kitchen, running back and forth chasing a toy. It rubs against Sage''s legs, meowing briefly before running off again.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t move overseas for someone else.¡± Rio makes a sandwich out of onions, cheese, and potato. For a brief period in high school, this is all he ate. ¡°I moved overseas because I¡¯m adventurous, and I get bored.¡± His hair is too long, and seems to always be in the way. There¡¯s no artwork on the walls. This makes the house look plain and impersonal.


    In Florida, Rio was always in search of danger. He seeked it out almost every time he left the house, and often ended up dragging Sage into danger, too. ¡°That¡¯s the problem, though, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sage''s intention for this visit was not to lecture their brother about big life choices. He loves to lecture people. Maybe he should learn what it feels like. ¡°You get bored.  What happens when you get bored of Ivo? I bet you didn¡¯t even think that far ahead. You never do.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be surprised if Ivo isn¡¯t super nice to you,¡± Rio said a couple weeks ago, when he and Sage were planning their visit, ¡°he doesn¡¯t trust anyone except for me.¡±


    It¡¯s not an ugly house, but Sage would never admit this. It¡¯s certainly larger and cleaner than Sage expected. All of the doors are open except one. Rio pulls a drink from the refrigerator, and doesn¡¯t offer one to Sage. ¡°Jesus, you spend too much time with Papa. I¡¯m pretty sure, if I was going to get bored of him, I would have done it already.¡± It¡¯s hard to tell if he¡¯s offended or not. Though it¡¯s not likely, Sage can¡¯t help feeling anxious. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that I love my husband.¡±


    Sage wrinkles their nose. ¡°That¡¯s kind of gay.¡±


    He never laughs at their jokes, even if he wants to. It¡¯s the job of a sibling to pretend you¡¯re the most insufferable person who ever existed. ¡°Shut up, nerd.¡±  Rio takes a large liquor bottle from a cupboard, and fills a tall glass. ¡°Want a drink?¡±  Amani would tell them not to speak to each other like this. He has two younger brothers, and was never close with them.


    There¡¯s a closed door at the end of a hallway, from which a light shines underneath. Maybe, Sage will go their entire trip without seeing Ivo once.


    The bathroom is very small. A calendar hangs on the wall, which Sage finds unusual. Random dates are labeled with unspecified times, and they make Sage curious.


    There¡¯s a ten hour difference between Alaska and the Netherlands. At home, Sage always goes to bed early. They¡¯ll be away for six days, and might not even have time to adjust to the time change before returning home. ¡°Am I old enough to drink here?¡± Sage has only just thought of this. Although their fathers allow them to drink at home under supervision, the men have strict rules around alcohol - specifically Amani, who practiced Christianity until meeting his husband, and still holds onto some of his old beliefs.


    ¡°You have to be careful when you drink,¡± Surya tells his children, ¡°because if you¡¯re not, you can hurt yourself or someone else.¡±  Sage''s fathers are responsible men. It must be exhausting to be so put-together all the time.


    ¡°Yeah, but who cares, anyway.¡± There¡¯s a small, plastic bowl on the floor, and a small litter box in the corner of the living room. Sage always liked dogs more than cats. They sit beside Rio, suddenly feeling shy.¡°What is that, anyway?¡±


    Sage''s suitcase still sits in the front entry. Rio hasn¡¯t assigned them a room yet, and probably won¡¯t until they ask. ¡°Jenever. I guess it¡¯s kind of like vodka. You can have some if you want.¡±


    Maybe Sage is just too young, but they¡¯ve never really seen the appeal in alcohol. Supposedly, it makes events more fun, and it helps the socially anxious become more comfortable. But it causes problems, and can ruin people¡¯s lives if they¡¯re not careful. Sage has never been interested in taking risks.


    Ivo stands in the hallway. He says nothing to Sage, and maybe doesn¡¯t even know they¡¯re there. Rio said he was pretty. It¡¯s hard to imagine what people look like without seeing them.


    ¡°Sup, Four Eyes,¡± Rio says, drinking from his glass. ¡°Sage is here. I know you hate people, but can you try to be nice to them, please?¡±


    Sage doesn¡¯t know what to expect. Their father says it¡¯s important to be patient with people, but this is easier said than done. They adjust themselves on the couch, petting the kitten when it jumps up next to them. ¡°Hi, Ivo.¡± He can be unpredictable, and this puts Sage on edge. They don¡¯t want to say too much, because they never know how people will react to their stutter. Some people don¡¯t bat an eye. Others put Sage on the spot, and make everything worse.


    Ivo acknowledges no one. When the kitten rubs against his legs, he picks it up, and then carries it silently down the hallway to his bedroom.

 XLI. Watercolor Women

    If you want to take a trip to Amsterdam, there¡¯s really no season that¡¯s better than another. Although most tourists visit during the summer, springtime in Amsterdam is the best time of year to see the colors of the city and the bright tulip fields. The spring is usually warm, but never too hot, with a never-ending variety of outdoor activities to take part in. After dark, parties welcome tourists and locals alike, with dance clubs remaining open until very late at night. In April, an annual tulip festival covers the city in beautiful blooming tulips: both celebrating the arrival of spring and honoring the country¡¯s national flower.


    The Rijksmuseum is arguably the world¡¯s finest art museum. It was founded in The Hague in 1798, later relocating to Amsterdam in 1808, where it¡¯s still located. The museum houses eight thousand objects of artwork and history, mostly done by Dutch Golden Age painters and artists. Sofie has visited the museum multiple times, although she knows little about art. Sometimes, she spends hours wandering among the exhibits, lost in her own little world. Daydreaming is something Sofie does rarely. There¡¯s far too little time in life to live inside your imagination.


    Most people think it¡¯s impossible for a woman like Sofie to be successful on her own. Her parents are very well-known, within Europe and globally, and most of her success is attributed to them. It started this way. Sofie was born into wealth, and, as an only child, never wanted for anything. At twenty-one, she¡¯s made a name for herself, and hates being compared to her parents - but it happens commonly, and makes Sofie grouchy.


    ¡°I am not my parents,¡± she says to a stranger who compares her to her mother, a white woman called Lonikie. ¡°I don¡¯t need them to help me anymore.¡±


    Sofie speaks four languages, and travels a lot. She attended boarding school in Spain, and traveled to America for the first time at the age of five. She can afford to hire a nanny, but doesn¡¯t trust strangers in her home, and dislikes the idea of paying others to watch her children. In the middle of the night, Sofie is stuck at the airport. It¡¯s holiday season, and almost everywhere is decorated top to bottom with Christmas lights. Someone follows her, which isn¡¯t uncommon. When she arrives in Amsterdam, her husband will come pick her up.


    ¡°Excuse me, Sofie?¡±


    She hasn¡¯t seen home in four months. She¡¯s usually not gone for this long at once. This year, Sofie starred in her first overseas, English-speaking film, and stayed in Los Angeles while filming. Though it¡¯s beautiful and busy here, it¡¯s nothing like home. When the film is released, her parents likely won¡¯t even watch it.


    ¡°You are Sofie, right?¡± Two boys follow her; they appear to be teenagers. It¡¯s not often she¡¯s recognized overseas. She enjoys the anonymity. ¡°Sofie Applelhof?¡±


    She¡¯s kind of a bitch. This is what men say, anyway. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°We follow you on Instagram.¡± Most people try too hard to impress her. The boys are no different. ¡°Can we get a picture with you?¡±


    Everything Sofie does is publicized. Even her birth was publicized in a big name Dutch magazine. Sofie has always been known. At the age of eighteen months, she starred in her first commercial: an advertisement for pull-ups. Growing up in the spotlight meant spending a lot of time despising her parents for thrusting her into the limelight, and struggling with being isolated and bullied by other students. There are many downfalls to being famous, but there are many upsides as well.


    Sofie¡¯s parents are never around. It¡¯s always been this way. She was raised mostly by nannies and older students, and spoiled by her parents as apologies for being absent. On April eleven, at six thirty five in the morning, she was taken to the hospital to give birth to her daughters, which had been confirmed to be twins months ago, and who frustrated Sofie from the day they were conceived. She was eighteen, alone, greatly missing her mother, who was away filming a television series. She dated a lot in her teenage years, and intimidated boys ever since she was a little girl.


    Three years ago, Sofie moved out of her parents¡¯ home in Vlissingen and into a houseboat on a canal in Amsterdam, where she lives with her partners and daughters. She was pregnant at the time, and though she¡¯d tried to hide it from the public, the tabloids have a way of uncovering even the most well-kept secrets. This is what Sofie hates most about fame. Most of the time, she loves her job. On occasion, she feels bitter about childhood and being sent away.


    Layovers are the worst part of air travel. If Sofie¡¯s lucky, she¡¯ll fall asleep on the way home.


    ¡°How did that happen?¡± her then-boyfriend had asked, after she revealed her pregnancy. ¡°We were careful. You were on the pill.¡±


    For a long time after meeting her husband, Sofie kept secrets about her past. She met Iggy on a movie set at the age of eighteen, and struggled with their conflicting schedules.  Now, she mostly struggles with their conflicting upbringings.


    It¡¯s late afternoon when Sofie arrives in Amsterdam. She has several texts from Frederika, and feels frustrated. Like always, Iggy meets her at the airport. It¡¯s becoming increasingly rare for both to be home at the same time. Iggy hates touring. Later this week, he leaves for several months. ¡°Welcome home.¡±  Iggy is an anal-retentive man. He was born in a small Dutch town to an American mother, and spent his entire life trying to get ahead. Though he isn¡¯t the father of Sofie¡¯s daughters, he treats them as his own. ¡°How was your flight?¡±


    Sofie doesn¡¯t believe in living with regret. She rarely dwells on the past, and never thinks about the future. She¡¯s not an affectionate woman; she learned this from her parents. On the contrary, Iggy is overprotective, and kind of a control freak. He has reason for this.  In childhood, as a result of his mother¡¯s inability to hold down a job, Iggy moved around a lot. ¡°I missed home.¡± She should miss her daughters more than anything. She doesn¡¯t. Sure, she misses her daughters, but there are more important things in life than children. It was Sofie¡¯s idea to have kids. Her mother, a big believer in contraceptives, agreed to allow Sofie to start taking the pill as soon as she had her first period. Her father argued this. The twins¡¯ father, who had been considering breaking up with Sofie, had no idea the power she held.  When she stopped taking her birth control, it took no time at all for her to become pregnant.


    ¡°Freddie had her baby.¡±


    Sofie would never date somebody monogamous. Those who dedicate themselves to only one person generally don¡¯t know how to deal with the jealousy that can rear its head in multiple relationships. Though she¡¯s dedicated herself to just one person in the past, she loves love and passion, and possesses the emotional capacity to maintain a lot of relationships at once. Not all of these relationships are romantic. Sofie loves freely and often. Polyamory requires consistent communication and compromise. So does every relationship, of course. When she left for her trip, Frederika was nearly five months pregnant. When it comes to babies, Sofie¡¯s daughters have very different opinions. Madelief counted down the days until the boy¡¯s birth, possessing a motherly instinct that few children have. Jetje is more partial to baby animals than baby humans. Frederika¡¯s husband is monogamous. Frederika swears up and down that this doesn¡¯t bother her.


    ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°Three days ago.¡± Iggy¡¯s phone always sits on the dashboard when he drives. He makes a lot of phone calls. He has a schedule almost as busy as Sofie¡¯s. ¡°She named him Caspar.¡±


    It¡¯s been a few years since Sofie has had a baby in the house. She loves Frederika, and assured her months ago that she¡¯d help with him. The four adults cooperate to parent the children, and all share duties pretty equally. When Sofie and Iggy have busy schedules, they appreciate this. Monogamous people don¡¯t understand how a child could possibly have more than one parental figure. Multiple parents means more love and care to go around.


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    When Sofie tells people she¡¯s polyamorous, they jump to conclusions. Many people assume she¡¯s prone to cheating, or that she just likes sex, or that she can¡¯t commit to anybody. These types of stereotypes are hurtful, and couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. There are many ways, in polyamory, to maintain safe and happy relationships, and to prevent sexual infections. This is another misconception, that Sofie must get a lot of diseases, that she¡¯s unclean. The way that she prevents spreading diseases is, of course, by having safe sex. Sofie is fluid bonded with her husband. She can¡¯t imagine being this way with anybody else.


    ¡°Mama! There¡¯s a baby!¡±


    The twins are three years old, and have known Iggy since they were newborn babies. Of course, they won¡¯t remember this. Although both girls are blonde and fair-skinned as Sofie, they look very different, and enjoy different hobbies. Madelief is noisy and talks a lot. Jetje is shy, preferring to follow close behind Sofie at all times. Most of the time, Sofie has better things to do than play silly kids¡¯ games.


    The worst part of fame is watching all of your life decisions be judged by people who don¡¯t even know you. Every other week, Sofie reads a story in the tabloids about herself: usually a story she¡¯s never revealed publicly. She often wonders how much boredom a person has to endure before resorting to spying on others. Sofie is known only because of her parents. Often, she resents them for this. Since the birth of her daughters, Sofie has become paranoid, careful not to talk about her children publicly - but parasocial relationships are frightening, and strangers think they know Sofie because they follow her on social media.


    At the moment, Sofie has three partners. This isn¡¯t the most she¡¯s had at a time, but she¡¯s satisfied. Frederika only dresses in greys or blacks. She and her husband, Hazen, have lived with Sofie and Iggy for over a year, in the bedroom on the main floor. Frederika got married two years ago. When Sofie met her, she was planning her wedding.


    Jetje holds her arms up to her mother. Frederika hugs Sofie, and then Iggy. Polyamory is not for the jealous type. Iggy has other partners of his own. After meeting Frederika, he took a while to warm up to her. Sofie¡¯s partners don¡¯t all have to befriend one another. They don¡¯t even all have to know one another. She¡¯s dated men in the past that never met Iggy. He¡¯s dated women she knew the names of, but never once spoke to.


    Don¡¯t your kids find it confusing having many parental figures?


    Children don¡¯t understand things on the same level as adults. Adults overcomplicate things. At three years old, the twins understand that they have more than one mom, and more than one dad. The technicalities don¡¯t matter, though everyone acts like they do. Since the birth of her daughters, Sofie has gotten practice explaining adult topics with language children understand. Iggy is better with language than her. Sofie hates repeating herself.


    Iggy¡¯s tour bag is already packed. Unlike Sofie, he¡¯s a light packer.


    ¡°Mama, play?¡±


    Madelief hates playing by herself. Someday, the house will be filled with children, and the twins will never be alone. Jetje will dislike this. She¡¯s a quiet girl, preferring to get things done on her own rather than with others. When the girls argue, this is most often the cause.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go out tomorrow night,¡± says Frederika, crossing her legs on the couch next to Sofie. She¡¯s brown, thin, and tall. Sofie is tall too, but she¡¯s fat, and this makes her look short. She holds Madelief, looking at a picture drawn in pencil crayon. ¡°I thought we could go to the science museum, but I¡¯m too tired today.¡± There¡¯s always someone home to watch the kids. This is another benefit of unconventional relationships. Sofie¡¯s life is never boring. The kids are never neglected. Once in a while, Iggy and Hazen have a boys¡¯ night. They aren¡¯t romantically connected, but usually get along.


    Upstairs, there¡¯s a large playroom next to the twins¡¯ bedroom, and a three- dimensional monitor that allows the girls to play unattended. Sofie hates messes, and gets frustrated when kids¡¯ toys become scattered all over the house. Despite this, her house is always messy. In the future, she and Frederika plan on bringing more children into the family. In the future, Iggy might invite a girlfriend to move in with them. Iggy¡¯s girlfriend is named Gwen, and Sofie hasn¡¯t met her. Most monogamous people don¡¯t understand the idea of ethical non-monogamy. Sofie doesn¡¯t believe in hierarchy, and doesn¡¯t consider any of her partners more important than another. Sofie rarely meets her metamours. Tonight, she has a date in the city.


    Next year, the twins will start elementary school. This isn¡¯t compulsory, but it¡¯s smart to get a good start in order to get ahead in life. When she was six months old, Sofie was sent to a private boarding school in Barcelona, where she was educated for eighteen years. Children need pressure to thrive. Sofie¡¯s children are no different. Being raised by famous parents means learning how to fend for yourself far earlier than most. Sofie wasn¡¯t neglected as a child, and she certainly wasn¡¯t unloved. She shows affection in the same way her parents do: by showering loved ones with gifts and money. Iggy says there are far more meaningful ways to show love.


    When Sofie began dating, she often found herself developing feelings for multiple people at once, and struggling to choose. Her nanny, who had been given the task of teaching Sofie about sex and relationships, always gave the most unhelpful advice. Choose the one you like most, she¡¯d say, as if Sofie ever liked one person more than another. Maybe other people are this way. Sofie was taught the idea of monogamy as if it were the default: and for many years, she believed it was.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    The children should be getting ready for bed. The baby is very small and ugly, as most babies are, and lies on Hazen¡¯s chest, swaddled in a light blue blanket. In the near future, Sofie plans on having another baby of her own. Madelief sits next to Hazen, always curious about things smaller than her. Caspar is too small to be held by a toddler. Despite not having given birth to him herself, Sofie feels motherly toward the newborn.


    ¡°I¡¯m going out,¡± she says. Even outside of work, she¡¯s rarely home. ¡°I¡¯ll be back before it gets too late.¡±


    Sofie doesn¡¯t date casually. Each time she meets a potential new partner, she¡¯s quick to bring up her dating style and preferences, and she¡¯s sure to keep her partners updated with important news about one another. New partners never meet her daughters right away. Children get attached to others too easily, and some people can¡¯t be trusted. Sofie met her boyfriend late at night, after he confronted a man on the street who was harassing her. She¡¯s perfectly capable of standing up for herself, but most men don¡¯t take her seriously - so she¡¯d been attracted to the stranger, as most men wouldn¡¯t have intervened. Sofie values women who know how to look out for themselves. She values men who understand they¡¯re not as important as they think they are.


    Sofie met Rio a month ago. He was riding a motorcycle, and wearing boxy braids. She doesn¡¯t see many men who look like Rio. He stands out in more ways than one, and seems to like it this way. He speaks Dutch very badly, and writes it even worse, and he hasn¡¯t lived in the country long enough to pick up the accent.


    ¡°This is my husband, Iggy, and my girlfriend, Frederika,¡± Sofie says, after inviting him briefly inside. Iggy doesn¡¯t care much who Sofie spends her time with, but she prefers her partners to be friendly with one another. ¡°And this is Rio.¡±


    What happens if you and one of your partners break up? Don¡¯t you think the girls will be confused?


    Most people can¡¯t mind their own business. Anyone who spends enough time around Sofie will eventually be noticed by the paparazzi or tabloids, and this makes it hard to maintain any kind of long-term relationship. ¡°I hope you enjoy attention,¡± she said to Rio a few days after they met. ¡°You might be getting a lot of it.¡±


    He¡¯s been married two months longer than she has. Though Sofie has heard stories about his husband, she has little interest in meeting him.


    ¡°You¡¯re pretty,¡± says Rio, opening the door of his car for Sofie. He has no kids, and doesn¡¯t plan on ever having any. Sofie can¡¯t lie. Once in a while, she misses the freedom that came with being childless. Although she loves her daughters, it can get exhausting revolving your whole life around someone else. Sofie¡¯s parents are not grandparents worth being grateful for. They reach out at their own convenience, with little interest in the lives of their daughter and grandchildren. It¡¯s probably not worth being disappointed over. You can¡¯t expect a person to change overnight. Still, Sofie had hoped her parents would become more involved after the birth of her daughters.


    Sofie gets called pretty all the time, to the point that it¡¯s not a creative compliment anymore. She¡¯s more than just her looks. She¡¯d rather be complimented on her talent, or her confidence. ¡°I know I am.¡± She doesn¡¯t always feel confident. Being a woman is hard enough. Being a plus-sized woman on social media isn¡¯t for the insecure. ¡°Can¡¯t you think of a better compliment that doesn¡¯t have to do with how I look?¡±


    The car is messy. Two padded walking poles lie on the floor behind Sofie¡¯s seat. Rio grins. ¡°You have excellent taste in men.¡± Like Sofie, he enjoys attention from others. Even the biggest attention seeker gets tired of the paparazzi after a while.

 XLII. P@!NK!LLERS!

    Doutzen¡¯s parents never tell their children that they love them. Although this may seem unhealthy to some, words are unnecessary. There are a million different ways to tell someone you love them. If you¡¯re not paying attention, you might miss them. Doutzen stands on the sidewalk in front of her house. Directions aren¡¯t complicated. She could take a route for the very first time without needing any directions at all. Her parents rarely check in with her, and never worry if she¡¯s safe. Doutzen has been traveling around the country on her own since she was a child.


    It¡¯s early in the morning. It isn¡¯t worth flying, and Doutzen is too young for an unrestricted license. Usually, she travels by bus or by train. She¡¯s been speaking to Rio for days, and still feels nervous when he pulls up in front of her house. She could have traveled on her own. Rio insisted on picking her up, and she didn¡¯t argue. He sent her a message a couple of weeks ago - this took her by surprise, but also brought her comfort. Doutzen has a half-brother. For months, he¡¯s been refusing to speak to her. She¡¯s better at speaking Rio¡¯s language than he is at hers.


    ¡°You finally got him to agree to meet me.¡±


    Doutzen isn¡¯t nervous. She warms up to people quickly, and talks about herself openly. Marit says she can be too much at times and overwhelms people. She knows little about Ivo, aside from the things Rio tells her, which isn¡¯t much. He¡¯s attractive. He says Ivo looks just like his father.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t easy, but Ivo¡¯s obsessed with me.¡± They¡¯ll be driving for a few hours. Doutzen doesn¡¯t understand the music that Rio plays. ¡°He¡¯ll never admit it, but he is.¡± Rio has a deep voice that doesn¡¯t match his face. Until recently, she had no idea he existed.


    Sometimes, I walk past a stranger on the street who kind of looks like me, and I wonder if they¡¯re my sister or my mother. I wonder if my biological mother is still alive, and if she ever thinks about me. I wonder if she ever misses me.


    It¡¯s not good to dwell too much on the past. It¡¯s behind you, and you¡¯ll never get it back.


    ¡°Do you think Ivo will like me?¡±


    Doutzen¡¯s friends and siblings ask why she cares so much about meeting a person she never heard of until a year ago, and who probably doesn¡¯t feel the same way about her. They don¡¯t understand. Doutzen is eager for the sense of community and belonging that only comes with having a family. You already have a family, people say, and they¡¯re right. Doutzen¡¯s family chose her because they loved her. Any chosen family has to be better than being born into a family who doesn¡¯t love you at all.


    ¡°Probably not.¡± Rio glances at his phone when it lights up. It sits attached to a magnet on the window, playing music through the car speaker. Doutzen expected this response, but it hurts her feelings all the same. ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally,¡± says Rio softly, ¡°Ivo doesn¡¯t like anyone.¡±


    Doutzen shrugs. ¡°He likes you.¡±


    "I¡¯m the exception. Besides, do you know how long it took me to get him to trust me?¡± With some people, conversation feels forced and awkward. Her conversation with Rio isn¡¯t like this. He¡¯s friendly and open, and made Doutzen feel safe and comfortable quickly. He says not to be surprised or offended if Ivo is callous. He says with unacknowledged trauma comes deep wounds that only get worse with time. Wounded people become afraid and isolated, trying to protect themselves in any way they know how to.


    There¡¯s a difference between showing compassion and letting others take advantage of you. Beatrix says that having trauma or struggling with mental health is not a reason to treat others badly. She says it¡¯s not the responsibility of anyone to fix other people¡¯s problems. Beatrix is not an uncaring woman, but she¡¯s not a pushover either. When it comes to her daughters, Marit values respect: toward oneself, and toward others. Doutzen struggles to balance the two.


    Rio looks familiar. If he went to university with Ivo, she might have seen him before. ¡°How¡¯d you meet, anyway? I feel like I¡¯ve seen you somewhere before.¡±


    Doutzen rarely makes solid plans. She could stay and visit for an hour, or she could stay all day. Sometimes things don¡¯t pan out the way she expected, and spontaneity is more exciting than it is stressful. Timo would disagree with this. He loves to plan things out in detail, and gets frustrated with Doutzen when she goes off schedule. There¡¯s not enough time in life to stick to a schedule. After a while, predictability gets boring.


    ¡°University,¡± says Rio. There¡¯s a small, backed up line of traffic on the highway, and both check their phones here.


    For years after finding out about her adoption, Doutzen would imagine her biological family to be all sorts of different things. Maybe her mother was a teacher, or her father was a chef. Maybe, after making the decision to give her up, they¡¯d spent years looking for her, longing for a chance to explain their side of the story. Maybe she had a biological sister, or many. She kept these thoughts from her parents: afraid of hurting their feelings, or feeling guilty for wondering about a different life when hers was perfectly satisfying already.


    ¡°Do you know anything about my dad?¡±


    ¡°How can he be your dad?¡± scoffed Beatrix, when Doutzen first referred to Pim this way. ¡°He didn¡¯t even know you existed. He was probably a shitty dad, anyway.¡±


    In German, there¡¯s a noun called Sehnsucht, which means to long or yearn. Doutzen learned this word for the first time during a school trip to Germany, and felt especially connected to it. She feels nostalgic for things she¡¯s never even known, and lives she¡¯s never lived, and this feels strange. You can¡¯t miss something you¡¯ve never experienced. Maybe all of this is a bad idea. It hurts to confront the idea that even though Doutzen may crave a relationship with someone, she can¡¯t force anyone to be in her life. Most of the time, memories of a relationship with someone is better than not having had that relationship at all.


    ¡°I know he loved Ivo.¡± Rio dresses strangely, and wears a lot of accessories and piercings. He looks like the type of person that little kids would stare at in public. Doutzen has never seen a man that looked like him. ¡°He¡¯d probably have loved you, too.¡±


    At least my parents wanted me, she says, when school mates poke fun at her for being adopted. My parents chose me. Yours are stuck with you.


    ¡°Ivo agreed to meet you,¡± says Rio after parking outside of his house, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯ll be nice about it. Don¡¯t come inside expecting to become his best friend.¡±


    There¡¯s a kitten in the windowsill. Doutzen has had weeks to prepare. There¡¯s no reason she should be so nervous. The house is dark, scattered with cat toys and mobility aids. Ivo is disabled. This is one of the first things Doutzen learned about him. Before the accident, he was blind. This is all he''s ever known. She isn''t intimidated by unkind people. She appreciates honesty and straightforwardness.


    ¡°Do you dislike cleaning? Your house is a bit messy.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Despite the cluttered living room, Doutzen longs to explore. If you invite someone over, you should expect them to look around your house. When Doutzen¡¯s parents have guests, they hide away things they don¡¯t wish others to see. All of the flooring in the bungalow is dark-wash wood; rugs cover areas in a small hallway and bathroom. There¡¯s a small wooden table in the corner of the living room that holds candles and flowers and occult items. There are items like skulls, crystal balls, gemstones, Ouija boards. Although curious, Doutzen doesn¡¯t ask about it. Despite the lack of stairs, the house isn¡¯t overcrowded. Doutzen must remember to control herself. There are so many questions to ask, but too many at once can be overwhelming.


    She¡¯s allergic to cats. When the kitten rubs against her legs, it¡¯s hard to ignore it.


    Rio doesn¡¯t acknowledge her question. He stands in front of the stove, filling a pot of water, pineapple, and leaves. He¡¯s American. Doutzen wonders where he¡¯s from. ¡°I¡¯m making zobo drink,¡± he says, although she didn¡¯t ask. ¡°Want some?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s zobo drink? Is that why you¡¯re boiling pineapple?¡±


    Doutzen has a boyfriend. Sometimes, her mother invites him over for dinner.


    ¡°It¡¯s a drink.¡± This much is obvious. Letting the pot boil, Rio sits next to her. ¡°It¡¯s made from hibiscus leaves. It¡¯s super good for you.¡± Doutzen doesn¡¯t pay much attention to her diet. She consumes what she feels like, and doesn¡¯t worry about vitamins or nutrition content. She¡¯s not unhealthy. She doesn¡¯t obsess over her health the way some people do.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try it.¡±


    A door opens. Ivo walks down the hallway slowly, dragging one foot on the floor. He walks like Doutzen¡¯s grandfather, and dresses the same way. ¡°Rio,¡± he says, sinking noisily into a living room chair. ¡°Everything hurts. I want an iced coffee.¡± He doesn¡¯t ask nicely. It¡¯s not a very nice way to talk to your husband. He must know Doutzen is here, but doesn¡¯t acknowledge her.


    She wants to scold him for the way he speaks to Rio. She¡¯s not here to start arguments or make people angry, and anyway, Rio doesn¡¯t seem to care. The pot on the stove boils; he lets it, checking its contents on his way to the kitchen.


    ¡°Hi, Ivo. Thanks for letting me come over and finally meet you. I¡¯m Doutzen.¡±


    A lot of the time, Doutzen says things that remind her of her mother. She supposes this will become more common as she gets older. There¡¯s a difference between asking for favors and just being mean. Ivo can be blunt and mean. Doutzen has heard this from multiple people who know him.


    He looks in her direction. He has thick glasses, and pretty eyes that don¡¯t focus when he looks at someone. The kitten sits on his lap, loudly purring. He doesn¡¯t seem like a cat person. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    It¡¯s a sunny day. The lights are very dim, and all of the curtains are drawn. ¡°What do you mean?¡± It¡¯s hard to understand people you know nothing about. Most people are forthcoming and honest, and will tell you about themselves if you just ask.


    Doutzen¡¯s glass is cold and tall. The drink is deep red, and tastes kind of like cranberries.


    ¡°What the fuck do you think I mean?¡± Ivo rubs the cat behind its ears, looking tired. ¡°You¡¯re not here just to say hello. So what do you want from me? Why are you here?¡± Coffee brews in the kitchen, making the whole house smell. Doutzen hates coffee. Rio stands behind Ivo, massaging his neck and shoulders. He goes to nursing school, and works as a security guard at a bar. He talks about himself too much.


    Most people are too polite. Doutzen would rather converse with someone blunt and honest than someone who acts agreeable just to avoid conflicts. ¡°I wanted to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re my brother.¡± Doutzen gets comfortable. She has a text from Schyler, and another from Anouk. ¡°Biologically, I mean. I¡¯ve wanted to find biological family members ever since I found out I was adopted. I never imagined I had actual siblings.¡±


    Ivo doesn¡¯t look at her. He drinks iced coffee out of a tall glass, struggling to get a grip on the straw. ¡°We¡¯re not siblings,¡± he scoffs, ¡°I don¡¯t even know you.¡±


    Marit says a little patience goes a long way. Doutzen finds it difficult to be patient with people, but likes people to be patient with her. ¡°Well, that¡¯s why I¡¯m here. I want to get to know you. I want to know what my father was like.¡±


    ¡°Your father?¡±


    Doutzen shrugs. ¡°Pim.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t seem to like her much. All she ever wanted was a real sibling to spend time with. She can¡¯t explain why it matters so much. Doutzen is too overbearing sometimes. This is what Beatrix tells her all the time. It¡¯s hard to relate to people if they¡¯re too different.


    Doutzen loves her family. Still, she can¡¯t help thinking about what her life could have been like if her biological father had raised her - if he¡¯d been mentally well and sound, and fit to be a father. Maybe she would have grown up with Ivo. Maybe they would have played together at school, or accompanied one another to parties, or collaborated on school projects. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t have grown up to be so angry.


    ¡°You agreed to meet me. You must be at least a little bit willing to talk to me.¡±


    The kitten runs up and down the hall, leaping and climbing. He¡¯s bored. He needs someone to play with. Doutzen knows little about human psychology. She shouldn¡¯t pry too much. The last thing she wants is to ruin her chances of a relationship altogether.


    Nostalgia is a funny thing. Most people don¡¯t believe it¡¯s possible to miss people you¡¯ve never met. ¡°What was he like?¡± If Ivo looks just like his father, maybe he acts just like him, too. ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered what my parents were like. I wonder how my life would be different if I knew them.¡±


    After refilling his glass, Rio sits lazily on the floor next to the cat. It¡¯s hard to understand the men¡¯s relationship. Rio is friendly and welcoming. Ivo seems to bring an air of secrecy everywhere he goes.


    ¡°You already have parents.¡±


    Ivo isn¡¯t angry. He isn¡¯t receptive, either. He speaks as though every word tastes pungent. ¡°We are not siblings. Pim was not your father. He was hardly a father at all.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    It¡¯s true that giving birth doesn¡¯t make a person a parent. But blood is thicker than water, and we can never get back the things we¡¯ve missed. She wants to hug Ivo. There¡¯s probably no way he¡¯d allow this.


    ¡°Stop acting like he was anything at all to you.¡± Ivo finishes his coffee, and then pushes his glasses up on his face, even though they haven¡¯t fallen. ¡°I don¡¯t even know why the fuck you care so much, anyway. You can¡¯t call someone your father if they never even knew you existed.¡± Maybe he¡¯s right. Maybe Doutzen is getting too eager, the way she told herself she wouldn¡¯t anymore.


    ¡°I just thought-¡±


    ¡°Do you think he was some amazing person or something? Do you think you missed out? Because you didn¡¯t.¡± She¡¯s upset him. Rio sits on the arm of the chair, playing with Ivo¡¯s hair, seeming to calm him somehow. It¡¯s frustrating. Why would you agree to have somebody over if you aren¡¯t willing to have a conversation with them? Everyone knows why Doutzen is here. Her mother said not to get her hopes up. Her father said people are more likely to talk to you if you make them feel important.


    ¡°You deserved a better childhood, you know.¡±


    Maybe Doutzen can¡¯t learn everything in one day. Maybe it will take months or years to develop knowledge and relationships, and she has to be okay with this. In the past, Timo has scolded her for expecting others to get things done on her time, instead of their own. She can¡¯t help it. Her siblings hate this about her.


    Nobody speaks. When people get bored of conversation, you have to give them something else to talk about. ¡°You deserved a better life. Both of you did. It wasn¡¯t fair.¡±


    It¡¯s beginning to rain. It rains a lot in the city. Ivo shrugs, staring at the floor. ¡°It never is.¡±


    For Doutzen, home always felt like home. It was never uncomfortable, or frightening, or unfamiliar. She never doubted that she was loved and cared for - and for most of her life, it was just something she took for granted. Ivo never felt this way. No one chooses to become an addict. It probably hurt Pim just as much as it hurt everybody else.


    ¡°You deserve to feel loved,¡± she says, as a loud vehicle passes outside, ¡°I¡¯m glad I got the chance to meet you, even if you don¡¯t want a relationship with me.¡± Maybe someday, this will come. If you push someone too hard, you might lose them altogether. It¡¯s quiet. When rain patters lightly against a sliding window, Doutzen feels calm.

 XLIII. feather-haired boy

    Everyone wants to feel like they mean something. Even if you believe that humans are all born for no reason, and that life has no meaning, nobody wants to spend their entire lives alone. Some insist they prefer isolation, that other people are too much effort and time. Some insist it¡¯s safer or more comfortable to be alone. Maybe this is true. Even if someone spends their entire life in solitude, they deserve to feel like their existence means something.


    The Divine is present in everyone, and in everything. Nature, and all of its creatures and creations, is sacred. People are sacred - because they are alive, and because they possess a soul. Rio never really believed in coincidence. Every action is connected to one another by ripple effects, so that nothing ever occurs in isolation, or without purpose. He¡¯s believed this for years. Religion isn¡¯t something that can be pushed onto someone. You can teach others about things that bring you comfort. You can share your own beliefs and understanding with those who are receptive to hearing about them. You can have your own dreams and hopes for someone else - but your dreams are just that: yours.


    ¡°Your father and I can¡¯t tell you who to believe in or what to understand,¡± Surya insisted, when Rio became curious, ¡°It¡¯s your calling. Only you can choose your own path.¡±


    There are many things about Rio that don¡¯t make sense to others. He¡¯s only ever been certain of three things. All living things are valuable. Nobody is inherently good or evil. Magic exists within all of us, and those who don¡¯t believe in it will never find it.


    He¡¯s always busy. Nursing school is challenging and stressful. Studying and work take up most of his time. He calls home when he can; it¡¯s expensive, and his parents are never free at the same time as him. Sage never checks in with him. They send occasional links to new songs, but rarely ask about his life. This isn¡¯t bothersome. Sage''s lecture plays in his head when he tries to distract himself from silence.


    In junior high, a few months after finally working up the courage to wear their natural hair to school, Sage got suspended for apparently violating dress code. The faculty claimed their hair was too unruly, and that it obscured the views of other students. Sage always sat in the back. They received less attention here, and never had anybody sitting behind them. ¡°It¡¯s too disorganized,¡± said Sage¡¯s homeroom teacher, after arranging a meeting with their parents, ¡°It¡¯s unhygienic.¡± Rio got scolded for his hair in school, too. Sage hates confrontation, and would have done whatever their teachers told them to, no matter how unfair it was.


    Amani is honest and fair. He tells people what he truly thinks, but he does so with grace and consideration, and this gives most people the impression that he won¡¯t say something harsh. He insisted on meeting with Sage¡¯s school principal, and later with the superintendent, making enough of a stir and gathering the parents of enough students of color to get the dress code changed altogether. After this, Sage became briefly popular, and didn¡¯t much like the experience.


    After class, Rio plays soccer with some friends. Growing up, he sometimes played sports with his siblings. Cassia loved swimming and baseball. Sage preferred tennis and tag.


    Home is always quiet. Rio struggles with silence, because being alone with your thoughts and fears is frightening, and he¡¯s never been very interested in practicing. Drowning your regrets won¡¯t heal you. They say time heals all wounds, but it doesn¡¯t. Some wounds stay forever. All time does is make it easier to live around them.


    ¡°How was your day?¡±


    When Rio goes out with his husband, people sometimes comment on their relationship. It seems there¡¯s never a shortage of stupid comments, and many haven¡¯t ever been creative. He¡¯s only with you because he feels bad for you, people have said to Ivo, not realizing he already speaks this way about himself. It¡¯s hard to prove your affection to those who have never experienced love before. Rio¡¯s father always said that the most hateful comments come from the most insecure people.


    Ivo doesn¡¯t have many hobbies. When he isn¡¯t napping, he plays with the kitten or listens to a record. Once a week, he attends physiotherapy, though this rarely happens without a fight. He¡¯s a stubborn boy, and refuses to use mobility aids outside of the house, despite struggling without them. He uses the computer once or twice a week, always as anonymously as possible, and still refuses to get a cell phone. Rio supposes everyone has to start somewhere.


    On the dresser in the mens¡¯ bedroom, there are several gripping aids and mountains of medications. Ivo says most of them don¡¯t work anyway, but he¡¯s wary of doctors, and goes only when absolutely unavoidable.


    Why would you marry a man who talks to you like that? Don¡¯t you have any self-respect?


    Ivo doesn¡¯t want to be known as a fool. Rio doesn¡¯t mean to brag, but he¡¯s more emotionally mature than most men his age.  At night, Ivo falls asleep very close to him in bed, using him as a pillow, always wondering where Rio¡¯s gone when he wakes up alone.


    He wears Rio¡¯s shirts, and refuses to take them off. If he¡¯s trying to be annoying, Rio will never say a thing. Ivo lies on his stomach in bed, the room dim and cold, the kitten napping at his side. For a guy who claims to dislike cats, he doesn¡¯t go anywhere without Kaj. It must be a bad pain day today. On these days, Ivo wears only his underwear, because all other clothing hurts when it touches his skin. He speaks flatly, his face muffled by a pillow. ¡°There¡¯s no point.¡±


    Pim¡¯s journal rarely gets opened. Ivo hides things under the bed, and then forgets they even exist at all. It¡¯s becoming harder and harder to get him out of bed in the morning.


    When Rio leaves for school, he has no way of calling home. Ivo gets frustrated with him when he checks in; he¡¯s not a child, and he can take care of himself. If there was ever an emergency, Ivo would refuse to ask anyone for help. ¡°That¡¯s kind of pessimistic, Ivo. Are you having a bad day again?¡±


    You can¡¯t change a person. What you can do is convince them they deserve to be loved without being changed at all.


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    ¡°My body always hurts, even when I take my painkillers.¡± Ivo usually speaks harshly. It¡¯s still unfamiliar when he¡¯s gloomy instead. ¡°I stumble when I walk because I can¡¯t feel my feet. I can¡¯t hold things without dropping them. I can¡¯t even see your stupid face clearly.¡± He rolls over, and stares at the ceiling. ¡°If that¡¯s going to be the rest of my life, what¡¯s the point of life at all?¡±


    In middle school, Rio dated a girl with depression. He got her gifts, and gave her compliments, and although she was appreciative, she was still sad. It was his father who¡¯d told him that you can love a person with all of your heart, and this still won¡¯t fix their brain.


    He lies next to Ivo. He could point out that things can get better, or that he¡¯ll learn to adapt over time - but this is not what Ivo wants to hear. ¡°Think of one thing that makes life worth living. Even something small, like listening to your favorite music.¡± Rio has heard his father say this to clients, and it almost always makes a difference. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s Kaj. Maybe it¡¯s sitting outside and listening to the rain.¡± Ivo hates Rio¡¯s positivity exercises. Changing your way of thinking doesn¡¯t always make things better, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to try.


    The bedroom is always clean. Rio doesn¡¯t care one way or the other about clutter, but gets up early to make sure the room is tidy before leaving for the day.


    Ivo looks at him. Probably, he¡¯ll say something cynical. Rio never knows what to expect.


    Do you know something that makes life worth living, Acchan? All the animals in nature. I wish I could be friends with all of them.


    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡±


    Intimacy comes in all kinds of forms. You can be intimate with someone by sitting and watching a movie, or by discussing childhood memories, or by participating in a hobby together. When the numbness in Ivo¡¯s hands is more painful than usual, he lets Rio wash and comb his hair.


    ¡°Me?¡±


    He plays with Ivo¡¯s hair, which is coarse and thin. ¡°Of all the things you could have chosen, you chose me? I¡¯m honored.¡± It¡¯s hard to be vulnerable. It¡¯s hard to talk seriously about emotional topics, even if you spend your whole life practicing. Rio¡¯s never really meant that much to others either. People care about him, sure, but he doesn¡¯t exactly make a life-changing impression on others, and he¡¯s certainly never made anyone else¡¯s life worth living.


    Ivo scowls. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡±


    Attraction works in strange and confusing ways. Sometimes it sneaks up on you. Sometimes, it¡¯s blatant and persistent. Everybody knows attraction never happens the way you expect it to. Sometimes, Rio struggles to figure out if he¡¯s attracted to someone romantically, or if he just likes the way they look. His attraction to Ivo began with superficial interest: he¡¯s objectively pretty, because he doesn¡¯t look like most people. There¡¯s something unusual and interesting about a teenager who dresses like an old man. Ivo¡¯s looks caught his attention, but there had to have been something else that kept it.


    Rio kisses him. ¡°I love you.¡± He won¡¯t hear it back: not in these exact words, anyway. It doesn¡¯t matter how you say it. Body language always speaks for itself.


    Since his injury, Ivo can¡¯t get hard without the help of medications. He¡¯s embarrassed by this, even though it¡¯s nothing to be embarrassed about. He holds onto Rio tightly, and then claims he wouldn¡¯t give a fuck if he left. Some days, Ivo hurts when Rio touches him. He always makes this known. Other days, he falls asleep on Rio¡¯s chest and makes it very hard to get up and leave.


    ¡°Are you in a lot of pain today?¡± Rio hates leaving his husband. He¡¯s never had trouble leaving anyone before. ¡°Can I give you a massage?¡±


    What does it feel like to be in love, Rio? Sometimes I feel like I¡¯m the only one in the world who will never know.


    Have you ever had a hobby that took up all of your energy, so that it was all you could think about, and you can¡¯t stop talking about it to anyone who will listen? It¡¯s like that.


    Their relationship is different now. It possesses a tenderness that it didn¡¯t before. When Ivo agrees to be touched, Rio massages him gently until he falls asleep.


    Rio always believed in the supernatural. There¡¯s a difference between a ghost and a spirit, and he has seen both. Cassia isn¡¯t a ghost, but she appears at random and makes Rio feel comforted. She shows up in his dreams: always bringing the same childlike innocence she possessed in life. Amani and Surya are superstitious, and their children are the same way. Rio hears his sister¡¯s favorite song, or feels her hand on his shoulder when nothing is touching him at all. Cassia never blamed him for her death. If she had, she¡¯d have stayed a ghost, stuck inside the house for the rest of eternity, never crossing over to Summerland.


    ¡°This is my big brother,¡± she¡¯d say, following him around, ¡°He teaches me magic.¡±


    Growing up is never a guarantee. Life is precarious and short, and only the most privileged get to watch themselves get old.


    It¡¯s Mabon. Rio prepares his altar with harvest foods: squash, seeds, corn, and autumn colors like oranges and browns. One of the most-well known myths about Mabon relates to Demeter, Goddess of the grain and the harvest. Demeter¡¯s daughter, Persephone, caught the eye of Hades, who abducted her and brought her to the underworld. This caused so much grief within Demeter that all the crops on Earth dried out and died. When she finally got her daughter back, Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds, dooming herself to spend six months of each year in the underworld. In Neopaganism, these six months are the time when Earth dies in preparation for winter, beginning at the autumn equinox.


    During the autumn equinox, Rio leaves offerings for the Dark Mother, and participates in rituals with his coven. This is hard to do in another city, but he and his family always make time for one another. He leaves pomegranate seeds and red wine, the way he always did with his parents when he was young.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    It¡¯s dark: only a flickering light of a flame bringing life to the room. If you listen closely, sometimes you can hear the spirits. Ivo moves quietly, sneaking up on people.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving offerings.¡± Ivo dislikes the smell of incense. Despite this, he doesn¡¯t complain when Rio lights a stick. ¡°I know you think it¡¯s stupid. It¡¯s Mabon. I like to show my appreciation to deities.¡±


    Kaj plays with the altar decorations, and nibbles on the leaves. Ivo frowns, rubbing at his eyes, mumbling to himself. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid.¡±


    People can surprise you sometimes. Rio surprises people all the time. ¡°What?¡±


    The incense smells like cinnamon. Cassia hated the smell of cinnamon. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid,¡± says Ivo again, louder. He sits next to Rio at the altar, and then stands as if he can¡¯t decide what to do with himself. ¡°It¡¯s important to you.¡±


    After jumping and leaping, Kaj falls asleep. Rearranging things on the altar, Rio lights a second candle. ¡°Sit with me. You don¡¯t have to participate.¡± He loves Ivo¡¯s harsh exterior. He loves Ivo¡¯s vulnerable side, too. He loves it especially because no one else gets to see it. ¡°Come on. You can keep me company.¡±


    He expects the boy to walk away. After letting himself be vulnerable, Ivo usually gets upset and defensive. He¡¯s a work in progress, but so is everyone else, too. He stands silently for a moment or two, saying nothing when Rio continues his ritual. Then he sits, soundlessly, looking more human than he¡¯s ever looked before.