Page 56 of The Art of Us

“Kal, someone hurt her. He hurt her, and now she’s just ... gah! Why are guys such trolls?” She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He slid his arms from her shoulders until he had them wrapped around her. It was cute that she insulted people using fairytales. Shrew, hag, harpy, and now troll. “Not all guys, right?”

“No not all guys. But Rowan is the biggest—”

“Rowan?” Kal pulled away to look at Ireland directly. “Rowan?” Why did everything come back to that guy? “Rowan hurt Mara?”

Ireland’s eyes widened. “I need to stop talking. I can’t think. And I’m saying everything I shouldn’t. This isn’t my stuff to be sharing. And it’s what you think but not as bad as you think. At least that’s what she told me. Look, Kal. You can’t tell anyone. I shouldn’t have told you. I hate that I can’t tell the difference between talking out loud and talking in my own headsometimes. I promised her. I didn’t mean to break that promise. I’m just so freaked out because I thought about it all after she told me, and I really thought I was helping her by giving her advice by using our connection here on the mural. I thought telling her to howl out loud would give her what she needed to tell someone, but Kal, she muzzled the wolf. She didn’t need advice. She just needed me to listen.”

“Does she not know you’re the one responding here?”

Ireland shook her head. “I didn’t tell her.”

“Rowan is such a piece of—”

“Sh! Someone’s going to hear you!” Ireland said as she scanned around them to see who might have overheard. There were people in the hall outside the classroom, but none close by, and their tones had been hushed up until Kal had decided to verbally abuse Rowan.

Thankfully, Mara always waited for Ireland in the car.

Ireland held Kal tightly again. “I have to go. Will you finish up for me? I don’t want to keep Mara waiting. And seriously—no one can know you know. Okay?”

Kal didn’t respond, but it didn’t matter because Ireland had already gone to meet Mara.

Kal slowly packed up the acrylic tubes and cleaned the brushes. He threw away the used plates and used some paper towels to wipe up where some paint had accidentally spilled onto the tile. The more he worked, the angrier he became. He read over the messages between Ireland and Mara. Mara was clearly in real pain—all because some guy was a “troll,” as Ireland had said.

A guy like the ones who had been with Brell that night.

Mr. Wasden entered his classroom and saw Kal standing there, nearly dizzy with fury, like he might throw up and pass out all at the same time.

“Whoa,” Wasden said. “You donotwant the cleanup thatcomes from crashing with that.” He pointed to the pitcher of old paint water that Kal held at an awkward angle.

“Right. You’re right.” Kal returned to the worktable and dumped the supplies there rather than taking them all the way back to the supply room.

“Something buggin’ you, Kal?” Wasden asked.

“No. I’m right as rain.”

“So something’s bothering Miss Raine then?”

Kal didn’t mean to. He really didn’t. But everything tumbled out of him, from Mara being the one writing the cryptic messages to Rowan being the ... Kal ran out of expletives when describing Rowan. Ireland had called him a troll. And while Kal found it adorable that she insulted people based on fairy-tale monsters, he didn’t think her verbal slam of Rowan was nearly dark enough.

Kal felt defeated after ranting to Mr. Wasden, like a balloon that had been expressed of all of its air and now had no purpose. “What can I do?” he asked his teacher.

“You can’t do anything. This is an assault charge, and it’s something I have to take seriously. But it’s also hearsay. You heard it from someone who heard it from someone else. I can’t do anything about it at the moment. I’ll set up an appointment with the school counselor for Mara. For right now, keep your word to Ireland. Don’t go telling people. Don’t make trouble for Mara. Let this be her story where she controls her own narrative. It’s not your story, okay, Superman? I get that you’re into saving people, but this time, she needs to be the one to tell her story, not have someone tell it for her. I’ll get her into the counselor. That’s all you need to know.”

Kal nodded that he understood. He didn’t. Not really. But he’d respect it.

Chapter Nineteen

Ireland

Going home with Mara had been something that terrified Ireland all day, but once she was in the car, it was Mara and her and singing along to Taylor Swift. The drive home had been no drama considering everything Ireland knew about Mara.

They didn’t talk about it. Ireland waited for some hint of their previous discussion, but there was nothing. Mara seemed bizarrely normal. Even after Ireland had painted a wolf howling. Even after Mara had muzzled the wolf.

They got home and went to their separate rooms like no big deal. The music came on within moments.

Mara loved Taylor Swift. The singer was always blaring from her car radio, her phone while she was in the shower, and the family digital assistance in every room when her parents weren’t home. Seriously. Taylor Swift in every room. In every space. All the time.

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