I SAT DOWN ON MY MOM’S swing, feeling the heaviness of the situation with Kael. Not for the first time, I thought of it as a mood swing. My own little joke. Only it wasn’t funny.

I’d lost track of the number of times I’d made my way out to the porch. If I was feeling anxious and alone, if I wanted to think something through or just daydream, I’d head to the swing. I was out there a lot after my mom left, sometimes I thought maybe she would be sitting there. And when Dad was talking about shipping Austin off to live with our porn king uncle, you’d find me on the swing. There was just something soothing about the gentle back and forth as the seat pushed into its arc and then returned. I could be close to full-on panic, but after a few minutes on the swing, my breathing would slow and I’d feel myself calm down. Most of the time, anyway.

When Brien and I were on the rocks, I’d planted myself out here, trying to get some perspective. But more than once, Estelle had followed me out to see how she could help. She’d give me this look that I could tell she thought was sympathetic, but I just thought was creepy. It was like she was trying to sell me something. A used car, maybe. A used stepmother was more like it.

She’d say things like, “I was young once, too, you know.” That was my cue to say, “Oh, but you’re still young,” and, “You’re so pretty.” But I wasn’t going there. I wouldn’t have given her what she wanted even if it had been true. Then she’d tell me that everything was going to be okay, that what I was going through was tough, but she understood how I was feeling. That bothered me the most. How could she possibly understand what I was feeling when she didn’t know me and I didn’t know myself?

And there I was again, sitting on my dad’s porch, not really knowing what I was feeling. I wanted to get closer to Kael, but I felt stung by his silence. I wanted to ask him to join me on the swing, but I felt too timid. I wanted … whatever it was I wanted, I wasn’t getting it, so I had sulked off like a little kid.

I was kicking my feet a bit and just starting to move the swing when the front door creaked open and Kael stepped out onto the porch. He leaned against the railing, watching me with glassy eyes. He looked older, somehow. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

The streetlight hummed as it cast a dim glow over my dad’s yard. I could make out cars, trees, houses—but just the outlines. I wasn’t sure if this was because it was getting dark or because I was getting buzzed. I didn’t particularly care. It had been a while since I had had anything to drink other than a little wine and I felt this hazy glow. Actually, I felt pretty damn good.

Rocking gently back and forth, I was aware that my breathing was syncing to the rhythm of the swing, and that made it easier to pretend that I hadn’t noticed Kael. No way was I going to be the first one to say something. I kept my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. God, this guy was tough to figure out.

Maybe it was the way he was with me—observing, non-judgmental. That was rare. So often you could feel people sizing you up, trying to figure you out. Who are you and what do you have that I want? Not Kael. He just noticed. I liked that. But it didn’t seem fair, somehow. He knew a lot about me and I hardly knew anything about him. The things I did know I could count on one hand. Almost reflexively, that’s what I did.

One: He was charming in that strong, silent way.

Two: He had this almost magnetic draw that attracted people to him.

Three: He made you want to know what he thought of you. (Or was that just me?)

Four: He acted as if he had something really important to say.

Five:

There was no five. That’s how little I knew about him.

Everything about Kael seemed so complex, but uncomplicated at the same time. He hadn’t said much to me while we were inside, other than to ask if I wanted a slice of pizza, but he had clearly followed me out. So why was he just standing there with that force field around him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking at me as if words were a burden too heavy to carry? I started to say something to break the tension, but stopped myself just in time. No way was I going to make this easy on him. I’d give him a taste of his own medicine and see how he liked it.