Page 42 of Resilience

Sam had understood the unconsciousness part but not the static. Now, though, he thought he had an inkling. Because he was sitting on the stool, staring out the window at the place Athena no longer was, and right at the point he thought his pain and regret would drive him screaming to his knees, his brain went utterly silent and took feeling with it.

CHAPTER TEN

Sweat ran into Athena’s eyes and she swiped it away with a slap. As a scenic road in Costa Rica rolled by on the Peloton screen, she leaned in and picked up her pace. Blanche watched her warily from minimum safe distance.

The Peloton was her mom’s, and Athena rarely rode it. She preferred to be actually outside. But this evening she was so upset she could barely stay in her skin, so she’d come down to their basement mini-gym to try to burn some agitation off.

Sam thought he was in love with her.

She was so furious and hurt and scared she could hardly think straight. How could he be in love with her? How many times had they been grossed out together over their family trying to make them a couple? It would be like incest, they always agreed.

How long had he been looking at her like somebody to fuck? While she’d been happily going about her life thinking how lucky she was to have such a perfect best friend and to have grown up with him from babyhood. Somebody she could be completely at ease with. Somebody who loved her without judgment or expectation. Somebody she could share the things she liked best with. Somebody who knew all her fears and frustrations and dreams. Sam knew things about her not even her parents knew. Things she would never have told Hunter.

The thought of that shithead sent such a shudder through Athena’s body her foot slipped from the pedal grip and the loose pedal banged her shin.

That was the thing that stuck in her chest like a fence post: if Sam was in love with her, he was thinking about her in a sexual way. Wanting her. The past several years flipped through her brain, demanding a different understanding. Every time they’d lain side by side on a blanket, or on the roof outside his bedroom window, looking up at the stars, had he been wanting her? Every time they’d played around in her pool, or at the lake, in bathing suits, Sam picking her up and throwing her in the water, had he been turned on to touch her body? Every time he’d settled his head in her lap so she could play with his hair and massage his scalp, had he been thinking of fucking her?

God, was she a target for Sam, too? Just a thing to want? To take?

No. Fuck, no! It couldn’t be true! She could not lose him! Not her Samwise! It wasn’t fair!

Something came up in her peripheral vision, and she jumped nearly clean off the bike. She would probably have fallen to the glazed-concrete floor except what had come up was her father, who caught her as she flailed. He lifted her from the bike—it was extremely annoying how easy she was to lift—and set her feet on the floor.

“What’s wrong, starlight?” Dad signed.

“Nothing,” she replied. “You just startled me.”

She swiped sweat from her face. As she did, she registered that it wasn’t just sweat. Tears, too. And snot. Had she been crying while she’d pedaled?

“That’s a lie,” Dad told her, frowning. “And we don’t lie in this house. You were vocalizing, Athena. Almost screaming. I came running down here because I thought you were hurt.”

Shocked, Athena stared at her father. She never tried to make sound, and she didn’t like the thought of doing it without knowing about it. That was the main reason she’d resisted speech instruction and had ultimately decided not to speak—it freaked her out not to know what her own voice sounded like.

And now she saw the odd pull at the waistband of her father’s jeans that meant he had a gun hooked in at the small of his back. He’d thought there was enough trouble that he might need to shoot someone.

“Sorry. I’m okay.”

---