Page 11 of Severed Heart
He laughs, sips his beer again, and keeps his eyes on me even as he walks toward the girl. Celine comes out of the bedroom, cutting off my view just after he disappears into the smoke on the balcony. The second he’s out of sight, I hate that I can’t see him anymore.
“Ready to go?” Celine asks me.
I nod and follow her toward the door, looking back one last time to see if the dark-headed boy is watching me. Abijah emerges from their bedroom just after and stops at the door, watching us go—watchingCelinego. He’s just as obsessed with her, and in seeing it, I find myself wanting someone to look at me the way Abijah looks at his wife.
“Celine?” I ask, looking back at the balcony again for any sign of him.
“Yes,” she replies absently, seeming to be locked in the flames dancing in her husband’s eyes. As she does this, she smiles at him with confidence, and I know it’s because of the way he watches her—never taking his eyes away once, even for those who call his name. Anyone in the room can tell they love each other. They only have to look to see it. In watching them, I decide that I want to feel the same confidence when a boy looks at me.
“Celine, who was the boy who just went out onto the balcony? The one wearing the blue shirt.”
“The blue shirt?Oh, that was Alain.”
“Thatwas Alain?” I gawk, shocked he’s so young because of the way Abijah speaks so highly of him—as if he’s someone of authority to respect.
“Hmm,” she confirms as we exit the apartment before taking the stairs down to her car, my attention lingering on the boy I just met. Alain must be at least sixteen—seventeen at the most. This means I would be forbidden from kissing him, and only makes me want to kiss him more.
As Celine pulls away from the apartment, I search for and find him on the balcony, only to see he’s laughing with the girl who summoned him. As we drive away, I decide I’m done kissing boys like Lyam.
Chapter Four
TYLER
US PRESIDENT: WILLIAM J. CLINTON | 1993–2001
MY ARMS BURNas I cut the corner with the mower the way Daddy taught me before stopping to wipe some of the sweat from under my ball cap. When I look up, I see the same two boys riding their bikes past my house. I know one of them from school. Sean. And I see him sometimes at the Pitt Stop. His daddy owns it, and my daddy knows his daddy and loves their burgers. We go there for grub after church sometimes. The other boy moved into the neighborhood a while back. Daddy calls their yard a ‘shit show’ ’cause they never cut their grass. Daddy says, ‘A man who takes no pride in his yard has no pride at all.’
Sean waves at me the next time they pass, and I wave back. They ride by my house two more times before Sean pulls up into our driveway, shouting something at me. I shake my head to tell him I can’t hear him and cut the mower.
“What?” I yell over from where I stand in the yard.
“Why doesn’t your daddy cut your grass?!” Sean hollers back.
I walk over as the other boy pulls up and stops next to Sean. He doesn’t say anything but just stares at me.
“He’s deployed,” I tell Sean, still staring back at the dark-haired boy. His eyes look like the metal on one of Daddy’s guns.
“Oh,” Sean says before tilting his head. “What’s that mean?”
“It means he’s a Marine, and he’s protecting you and me from all enemies, foreign and domestic. I’m the man of the house while he’s away, so I cut the grass.”
The dark boy laughs, and I cut my eyes at him. “Your yardis ashit show. Why doesn’tyour daddymow it?”
The dark boy only stares at me.
“His daddy is dead. His momma too,” Sean tells me.
“Oh,” I say, wiping my forehead with my shirt.
“Aren’t you going to ask how they died?” Sean asks.
“It’s not polite to ask things like that,” I tell him. “He can tell me if he wants to.” The boy doesn’t say anything and just keeps looking at me. “If you want to, you can tell me.”
He nods, but he doesn’t tell me. Now I wish I did ask.
“Is your daddy deployed all the time?” Sean asks.
“Sometimes for a long time. He was deployed when the Desert Storm came years back. You hear about that?”
