Page 230 of Heresy

We are the living and breathing embodiment of what our father made us. And until now, we were our only tethers.

We have our friends, obviously, seven chosen brothers who have been by our side since we could walk.

But you don’t flay yourself open in front of the guys and talk about what you’re thinking. You don’t rip your heart from your chest and put it in front of them so they can know what you’re feeling.

It’s just not done that way.

Not even Ezra and I can talk like that.

So, for eighteen years, I’ve really had no one.

Until now.

Until Emily.

And she’s going away.

I have to stop her.

It’s a typical fucking Thursday at school. I woke up, hated my life and practically all of the world around me, managed to pull on some jeans and a tshirt that is somewhat clean and jumped into the passenger seat of Ezra’s Jeep in time for him to peel ass out of the driveway and down the street because we’re late.

He blames me, I tell him to go fuck himself, and all is well because that’s how we say good morning.

Nothing about this day would be unusual except for the nervousness I feel about one thing I have to do in particular.

In two weeks, class is over. High school is over and we’ll be packing our shit to leave for Yale during the summer.

I’m not ready. Not that I mind leaving our family behind or escaping the nightmare of our father, but there’s one person I can’t let go. Ezra probably couldn’t give a shit. It’s A game to him. Always has been.

But to me, she’s different.

We started this thing with Emily based on a ridiculous bet, it hadn’t meant anything and was never supposed to, but fuck if I didn’t start feeling a certain way around her.

Emily brings me peace.

It creeps me out to think of why. The thought that she’s like a mom I never had makes me want to stab myself in the eye. But it’s difficult for me to describe the feeling I have around her.

She’s like a place where I can relax. Where I’m accepted no matter what. Where I can be myself and nobody is judging me for what I’ve been put through or forced to do.

She’s my home.

That’s the best way I can describe it.

She takes away those weekends, and she’ a safe spot in my head I can run to through every punch or kick, insult or worse.

Emily doesn’t have to physically near me to heal me, just the thought of her does.

How can I let go of that?

Expressing myself is hard. The words are never right in my head, so I know they’re never right when I try telling people. Most of the time I don’t talk except to say stupid shit or crack a joke that will make them laugh.

Today, my words have to be right. And that shakes me to the absolute core because if I fuck this up, I lose everything. I have to make them right, so I’ve practiced in my head for the past week, talked to myself in front of a mirror like a little bitch. I’m terrified.

No matter how I put the words together, they come out jumbled. There’s no way for me to know if they’re enough, if she’ll understand…

If I’m enough.

That can’t stop me. I have to try. Have yo get this perfect so she’ll know just how much I love her.

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