Page 3 of Faithful

“A bunch of self-centered children is who you are.” She glares at us, her jaw moving. “Don’t you ever make fun of bipolar disorder! You hear me?”

“Sorry,” Winona whispers, gaze downcast.

“You forget who we are and what we represent and why we’re here. It’s not our place to judge. Understanding and compassion. I need those from you.” Gin pauses, surveying the room. “If it’s such a difficult task, then you know where the door is.”

With that, she returns to her office.

* * *

Several days after the unfortunate episode at work, I get a text from Kai–the very first one since our phone chat at the end of July.

It’s a Dropbox link.

Nothing else.

There’s a part of me, a very needy and jealous one, that wants more, wants words, wants explanations. But I know I won’t get that from him. At least not now and not in the format I’d want those things to be delivered to me.

I’m at home in my room trying to deal with the lack of weed, which I desperately crave after the evening Julie and I had with my mother. She’s been irrational these past couple of weeks–wandering off to the lake in the wee hours of the night, breaking things, looking for Ava. She even managed to wreak havoc in Gavin’s room.

And this suspect behavior makes me doubt my move.

As much as I love and respect Julie, she’s the hired help while I’m the son.

The son who’s running away.

My phone–still in my hand–pings again, and at first I think it’s another message from Kai, but it’s a Google alert.

A new article about Iodine just went live. I skim the headline. Filthy Magic’s front man Bash Spade urges the fans of Kai Delisa to remember that their favorite band member is a human being.

I don’t read the rest. I already read multiple variations of this statement. Yet even days later, websites looking for traffic continue to recycle a single Facebook post that appeared on the Filthy Magic official page shortly after some of Divine Dave’s followers started trolling Bash’s social media and calling him out forconsorting with the devil.

Instead, I return to the message exchange with Kai and click on the link he sent me.

It takes me to an upload of footage in which the four of them–Danny, Finn, Kai, and Ava–are rocking out on the roof of a building. I recognize the background instantly–the deserted construction lot.

You don’t easily forget a place where you received the most memorable blow job of your life.

I’m not going to make any promises. I’m not positive I have the files.

I watch the video with my heart in my throat, my hands wanting to reach into the phone and grab Ava, cradle her to my chest and never let go.

She’s so young there, so carefree, so badass, so full of promise.

It’s not where your answers are.

Then where?

It’s in your own fucking house.

Panic floods me and I stop the recording and rush over to Ava’s room to look through her things again, only to find nothing new.

* * *

Kai doesn't return my hysterical middle-of-the-night call until the weekend rolls in.

It’s Saturday and naturally–since my social life is about as active as a koala’s–I’m spending it at home playing video games. I’m not any good but it’s something to keep my mind occupied, considering how unstable everything has become with the move and my mother being extremely strange.

Gavin was on TV earlier. He talked about the medical center expansion project. According to him, the construction will be wrapped up early next year and he’s excited to take the next step.

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