Mom responds with a laugh and a joke, but I hear the bits she—thankfully—doesn’t realize. Lex has figured it all out. Everything. I understand that completely.
He knows I hide what I love from her. He knows she somehow manages to kill things if she finds them.
He plays nice and plastic well, but he doesn’t like her much, does he?
He doesn’t want her tied to him at all.
And I can neither blame him nor disagree.
Lex
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dinner went well, or as well as I expected. Calypso will be able to be at home again without her mother treating her like a criminal. At least until the next offense.
It’s disgusting to me how the woman acts with her, like she’s still a child who doesn’t know anything, who needs silent treatments and “talks” when she’s “bad.” Like she needspermissionto date at her age. It’s especially horrible to watch because I can tell she cares for Calypso. Loves her. Sincerely. That just makes it worse.
That just links guilt to every moment Calypso isn’t her mother’s definition of perfect.
I release a tight breath, my hands in my pockets, as I walk down the drive toward where I parked my car on the street. Calypso comes with me, a silent little creature at my side. Anticipation courses through my veins, and I’m desperate to hear her comment freely on the whole fiasco. I did, after all, confess some sort of undying love in there.
Glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, I find her braid between her fingers. She didn’t fidget the whole time we were in front of her mom.
Is she allowed to?
Did something happen that makes her feel like she isn’t?
My smile drops away, and that’s when her mouth opens. “Do you really think I have a soft personality?”
Soft personality? I remember that line. Using the way I see her react to Agatha as a reference, I assumed how her mother perceives her. A shy, timid thing.Soft.
I flick one of her braids. “Yes, but no.”
Her gaze skims up to mine, big and open, almost hopeful.“What does that mean?”
Stopping in front of my car, I lean down to whisper in her ear. “There’s certainly something about you that’ssoft. I discovered that fully last night.”
Calypso’s back straightens, and she jerks away, her eyes huge. “You know that’s not at all what I mean!”
“Oh?” My lips curve. “My bad. I guess I’m still thinking about it.”
Because I’m in love with you.
Say something aboutthat.
She doesn’t. Whipping her gaze toward her house, she hisses, “What if my mom’s watching and she saw you turn me as red as a tomato?”
“Then she’s a stalker. She might ask you about last night, you know. Somehow we avoided it. I think maybe she didn’t want to confirm that you’d been at my house. Or maybe she wants to confirm it with you directly. I would have lied and told her you were in a guest room next door to a sister I don’t have.” I tilt my head, staring. “So. Since I know you won’t lie, you need to make sure you can saynothing happenedwith a straight face that doesn’t turn red. And don’t let her pressure you into details. You don’t have to explain how you slept in my bed or how I held you all night, because you begged me to.”
“I did not!” she blurts, her cheeks still flaming. “Why are you like this?”
I wait a moment, wait for her to drag my excuses of loving her into that question.
Yet again, she doesn’t.
So I do.
“Weren’t you listening, sugar?” I smirk. “I’m helplessly in love with you. So much so, I’m even willing to buy your time.”
