Page 6 of Teach Me to Fly

I wipe my face with the sleeve of my robe, the cotton soft against my skin, but I can still feel the ghost of Alec’s hands, even though they're long gone. Lando takes a deep breath, then sits down on the edge of the bed with his hands clasped together, elbows on his knees. He draws in a breath, heavy with exhaustion.

"Alright," he says. "I wanted to put this off until you felt ready, but we need to talk. I need to know exactly what I'm dealing with."

I hesitate, but something about the way he says it, free from judgement and with genuine concern, makes it feel possible. So, I tell him everything.

He listens, his jaw tightening as I speak, and his hands curling into fists, but he never interrupts. When I reach the part about my mom, he looks like he might throw up on my behalf.

"Your mother," he mutters, voice trembling with fury. "I always knew she was cold-hearted, but this…" He shakes his head, eyes wild. "She knows and all she did was tell you to come here like it’s some fucking holiday?"

I nod. "She wants to protect the company, I guess. And the money his family donates."

“She should want to protect you,” he snarls.

Lando shoots to his feet, the mattress lurching from the shift in weight, and begins to pace in tight circles. His fingers tangle in his curls like he wants to rip the rage out of his scalp.

"I'm flying to New York," he says, firmly. "I'm going to strangle that bastard, and your mother, too."

A little unhinged, Lando, but it’s warranted, I think to myself.

A sudden buzz cuts through the air, startling him. He groans as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and looks at the glowing screen.

"Shit, I forgot about the party."

He answers, tone clipped. "Yeah? What? No, I'm not dressed yet, because—" his eyes flicker back to mine, softening a little. "Look, I might skip. Just tell them to go easy on the champagne and not to break anything."

He hangs up with a sigh and sits back down beside me, the fight draining from his posture, guilt tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I planned a thing," he admits. "A house party. Before I knew you were coming. I completely forgot to cancel it."

"Is anyone I know going to be there?"

"Max, Willow, and Alfie." He pauses. "You remember them, right?"

I groan softly, burying my face in the duvet again. "Tell them I'm dead."

"Consider it done," he says dramatically. "Or grievously maimed. Or mysteriously vanished into the Thames River."

Now there's an idea.

"You don't have to stay," I say after a beat. "I mean it.Go. Have your party. I just want to sleep. That's all I've wanted for weeks."

Lando hesitates. "You sure?"

I nod. "Don’t worry about me. I’ll lock the door and I'll be fine."

He stands, leans over, and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. It's the gentlest thing I've felt in years.

"I'll be back in the morning then," he says, voice warm with care. "With croissants, and possibly the blood of my enemies, depending on how drunk Alfie gets me."

"Croissants first," I whisper. "Blood second."

He grins, one of his genuine, Lando-smiles that lights up his whole damn face. "Deal."

And then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him. I lay there in the dark, the echo of my nightmare still humming under my skin, but it doesn't feel quite so suffocating now that my best friend knows. For the first time since it happened, I feel a thread of safety wrapping around me—thin and tentative, but real. It's not much, but it's something.

Chapter 3

Angelique

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