Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Little by little, I can feel the ink retreating to the shadows, even if its invisible hands are still strangling my cursed wrist.
I scroll up, reading all the texts he’s sent since I left the island after I made sure Lan’s wrist was safe.
At that time, I needed to get away from it all and figured being with my parents was the perfect solution.
I’m not so sure anymore.
It hurts everywhere, whether I’m on the island or here.
Still, I can’t help rereading his texts. They’ve gone from raging to pleading to raging again. He calls me twenty times a day like a damn stalker.
A couple of days ago, he stopped the texts and calls altogether, so I thought he’d given up, but he called me just now. What does that mean?
Am I supposed to feel hopeful because of it?
I exit the texts and open Instagram, then go to his profile like a junkie. He hasn’t posted anything for a long time, but I scroll through the old pictures. As if I don’t have every single one saved on my phone in a special folder.
A knock startles me before Mum’s voice filters through. “Bran, hon, you awake?”
I throw the knife under the pillow and sit up in bed to put on my watch, then clear my throat. “Yeah. Come in.”
My fingers tighten around the phone, keeping it against my chest like makeshift armor as the door opens.
Mum and Dad walk in with handfuls of snacks, popcorn, and beer.
“Film night,” Dad says. “Don’t think you’re escaping.”
I smile and slide my phone into my pocket. “Shouldn’t we go to the home cinema for that?”
They abandon the contents of their arms on my desk and sit on either side of me.
“Before we do that…” Mum trails off. “I wanted to have a little chat first.”
“Okay,” I say warily.
“I wanted to apologize, honey. I was reflecting on my words and realized that in my attempts to get you the best deal possible, I’ve been pushing you, and I think that made you uncomfortable. If you prefer Maxine over Grace, go for it. I’ll stand behind you every step of the way.”
“Really?”
“Of course, Bran. You can tell me these things head-on. You know that, right?”
I nod.
“Do you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Mum. Anyone in your position would think it’s an honor to be represented by Grace. But I’m not at your level yet. I don’t want that pressure.”
“I understand. One step at a time, right?”
My smile is much more genuine this time.
“It wasn’t so hard to express yourself, was it, son?” Dad asks, throwing a comforting arm on my shoulder.
“We’re your parents, not your guardians or people you need to be wary around.” Mum takes my hand in her smaller ones. “You don’t have to think about it when you talk to us. You can tell us what’s on your mind freely.”
My breathing comes easier with every inhale and exhale as I summon all the courage I have and say, “Mum, Dad. I want to tell you something.”
“Anything,” she says and Dad gives an encouraging nod.
“So…the thing is. I…well, this is a lot more difficult to speak aloud than I thought.”
“Take your time.” Dad strokes my back. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone, Bran.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I clear my throat. “Remember when a long time ago I asked you why am I not normal?”
“When you were fourteen?”
“Yeah. You asked me in what department did I not feel normal, and I just shrugged and hoped you’d let it go. That thought came to me when I saw Lan and everyone else shagging their way through school. Lan first had sex at thirteen. I didn’t even consider it at that time.”
“Oh, my word.” Mum gasps.
“You weren’t supposed to know that.” I grimace. “Anyway, he told me all about it, said I’d get around to it myself, and gave me a lot of pointers. I was more bemused than interested. I didn’t like the concept of sex. I didn’t find it appealing in any shape or form. I thought I was a late bloomer and Lan agreed, which made sense. But even at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, or beyond, I didn’t like the idea. I didn’t want to have it and didn’t find anyone attractive.”
“But…” Dad pauses, seeming to measure his words. “You had girlfriends.”
“Yeah. I did have sex. I didn’t like it, but I did it anyway to blend in.”
“Oh, honey.” Mum watches me with a wretched expression. “Why didn’t you talk to us? We could’ve—”
“No. The idea of being different haunted the hell out of me. I couldn’t just admit it out loud. Even to you guys. I didn’t want to be seen as a freak.”
“Not wanting to have sex does not make you a freak, Bran,” Dad says firmly. “Everyone is different and that’s the beauty of it. Just because you don’t have the sexual drive doesn’t make you any less of who you are.”