“I suppose you can’t help it,” Maud says sharply.
“Maud.” Lily speaks Maud’s name with the authority of a parent about to lay down the law. “Treat Archie with respect. You have no idea—”
“If I have no idea, then tell me!” Maud pleads.
Lily simply says, “There are things grown-ups don’t tell children to protect them from the horror of it.”
“Like what?” I ask, curious to know more.
Maud gives me a nod of solidarity. “Yeah, like what?” With Maud’s eyes on me, it’s not Archie’s secret past I’m thinking of. It’s my own. All the things I hide from these people I love, from my new family. My immortality and eternal youth. But perhaps more importantly, the heartbreak I suffered because of Harvard, the boys I cared for who died, the family I had to abandon... Mother. I close my eyes, silently begging God and Mother for forgiveness.
Just then, the slam of a door. Bram’s sunny voice. “Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! Oliver, are you upstairs?”
“In the kitchen!” I yell back.
He recites a poem as he approaches, unaware of the big bangthat awaits him. Our world is being re-created anew this morning. I can feel the change like an explosion of particles. “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day,”Bram bellows like some Shakespearian actor. “When every bird cometh there to choose his mate.” He enters holding a dozen red roses and a framed page of poetry. He seems too elated to notice the glum looks on our faces. “Oh, hello, everyone.” He raises the poem up. “It’s Chaucer. I thought it would be a nice gift because we live on Chaucer Street. And his poem is said to be the first time Valentine’s Day was associated with love. They say he wrote it for King Richard II and his bride—”
Maud rolls her eyes. “The royals strike again. They’re also to blame for the commercialization of love. What didn’t they fuck up with their greed?”
Bram deflates. He finally takes us all in. Realizes we’re not floating atop the same cloud he’s floating on. We’re under a different cloud. A black and stormy one. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, it’s not you,” Maud says. “I’m sorry I snapped. The poem is beautiful. The roses are gorgeous. You and Oliver make me sick with how adorable you are. Living with you two is like eating too much candy. Makes you smile and make your stomach turn all at once.”
Everyone laughs, no one louder than me and Bram. That’s the Maud we love. The one who teases us mercilessly and lovingly.
Bram hands me the flowers and the poem. “They’re for you. I had to do something for you this morning since we’re taking a mysterious trip later.”
“You’re leaving?” Maud asks. “Today? After what’s happened?”
Bram looks to me, still unaware of all that’s transpired. Maud also looks to me, her eyes like steel. “I—I had planned something special for—for me and Bram.”
“We all had other plans today,” Maud says. “And we’re all changing them.” She turns to the grown-ups. “Right?”
“I don’t know,” Lily says. “We need to think. To be careful. Strategic.”
“What we need is to beprompt,” Maud argues. “We can’t wait for the moment to pass. We need to flood the streets while our hearts our pounding.” She looks around. “Or is my heart the only one that feels like a hammer right now?”
“I’m with Maud,” Poppy says. “This is no time to sit back.”
“Me too,” Azalea says. “And there’s safety in numbers. The more of us out there, the harder it will be to stop us.”
Archie approaches Maud apprehensively. “I would love to join you in whatever you’re planning,” he says. “But if you’d rather I not be there because... because...”
“Because you’re white and your mummy attends polo matches with Duchess Cuntlesby?”
“Maud!” Lily tries to sound stern, but she’s also laughing.
“My dear Maud,” Archie says with a smile. “Duchess Cuntlesby insists on always being referred to by her full name, which is Her Disgrace,theDuchessofCuntlesby. Words matter, you see.”
Maud manages a smile. “So do you, Archiekins. Of course we want you there. White faces. Brown faces.” Maud looks to Bram and Blossom. I see Bram bite his lip, debating what to do. “We need the numbers. And maybe they’ll be less likely to arrest us with some white faces in the mix.”
My fingers twitch when Maud mentions getting arrested. Considering what this would mean for the first time. Sure, I’ve run from cops here and there for minor offenses. Busking. Sleeping outside. But what’s happening now feels different. More dangerous. What Maud sees as protest, they see as inciting violence. Fearpossesses me so fully that I can barely stand upright. Bram puts an arm around me.
“Maud, Oliver planned a surprise for me,” Bram repeats quietly, sensing my weakness is about the trip. And it is. But it’s about more now. It’s about the terror of what’s coming.
“What’s the surprise?” Maud asks aggressively.
I feel myself shrink into Bram’s body. His strength. I don’t know how I ever wrestled. I feel so powerless. “It’s not about that,” I croak out.
