Never Alone
A Killian Kendall Expanded Universe Short Story
By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026
Chapter 3
I blinked at him, confused. “What does that mean?”
He frowned, as if he’d expected me to understand immediately. “I see you truly do have a lot to learn,” he said with a soft sigh.
There was no blame in his voice, but I couldn’t help bristling. He noticed instantly.
“That’s not your fault, Jacy,” he said gently. “You can’t know what you weren’t taught. This will be a simplified explanation, but our ancestors believed most people are born with either a male spirit or a female spirit. However, some are born with both — a combination of male and female spirits. They existed beyond the binary, combining aspects of both genders, often taking partners of the same sex. These people were held in the highest regard because they were seen as closer to the Creator. They took on roles of authority and respect within their communities: healers, mediators, shamans. Many had spiritual powers that set them apart.”
My brain scrambled to catch up. “Wait,” I blurted. “Do you mean you’re...gay?”
He blinked, momentarily thrown off by my bluntness. “Well, some might put it that way,” he said. “But being two-spirited is so much more than simply being gay or bisexual. Not every gay person is two-spirited, but all two-spirited people are gay, bisexual or transgender.”
“But you’re gay?” I repeated, needing to hear it again to make it real.
He nodded.
The realization hit me in a rush. No wonder Aunt Daisy had refused to acknowledge him. Not only had he left their lives when she was young, but he was also gay. That combination would never have fit with her strict religious worldview.
But according to Fletcher, our ancestors had not only accepted this identity — they had revered it. And then it struck me in a sudden, dizzying flash: My grandfather is gay.
The thought flattened everything else in my mind. The grandfather I’d never known existed less than an hour ago...was gay.
My thoughts immediately went to Skye and the kiss he’d given me. Is it hereditary? I quickly skittered away from that thought. I wasn’t prepared to deal with that just yet — one major revelation at a time.
“You’re gay,” I said again.
“Just to get it all out at once, so am I,” Lily added with an amused expression on her face. “But much to Fletcher’s disappointment, I’m not a two-spirit, just your regular old garden variety lesbian.”
My brain was on overload. “Does Aunt Daisy know?” I asked numbly.
“It never came up in conversation,” she said drolly. “But I’m sure she does. One more reason for us to not get along.”
We were all quiet for a few seconds.
“Explain the difference to me again,” I asked after a minute.
Fletcher beamed like I’d just passed some sort of test. “As I said, not all gay and lesbian people are two-spirited. The difference is that two-spirited people are given certain other...let’s call them gifts for lack of a better word. These gifts bring with them a certain level of responsibility. In most Indigenous cultures, people who were two-spirits had very specific roles.”
“It wasn’t just in our culture? It was also in other cultures?”
“Oh yes! Almost all North American tribes were aware of the existence of two-spirit people, though they would have had different names for them. Two-spirit is a modern umbrella term. The Navaho called them nàdleehé — one who is ‘transformed’. The Lakota Sioux called them winkte, the Mohave alyha, the Zuni lhamana, the Omaha mexoga, the Aleut and Kodiak achnucek, the Zapotec ira’ muxe, the Cheyenne he man eh. You get the picture. They all believed that two-spirit people were born that way, and they not only saw them as normal, but as a necessary part of society. They almost always became spiritual leaders in their villages.”
“You keep using the past tense,” I said cautiously. “It’s not like that anymore?”
Fletcher’s face darkened slightly, the sadness settling in his eyes. “Unfortunately, no. As with so many things, we’ve been shaped — and limited — by Judeo-Christian influences. There’s a small resurgence of the two-spirit tradition lately, but it’s very much an uphill battle.”
“So...our tribe doesn’t accept it?” I asked, trying to understand.
Lily laughed, a bright, easy sound that broke some of the tension. “Fletcher hasn’t exactly given them a choice. He’s been so active in tribal life since coming out that people have mostly just accepted it. Even the most conservative elders tend to ignore it. You can’t really argue with someone who’s that influential.”
Fletcher opened his mouth, clearly ready to object, but Lily held up a hand. “Don't argue, Old Man. You know it’s true. You mediate conflicts, preserve the old ways, teach the young ones — and don’t think I’ve forgotten — you even heal with your herbal remedies. You’ve become the tribe’s unofficial medicine man, whether you like it or not.”
He gave her a rueful smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I prefer the term herbalist,” he said with dignity, though his voice carried a quiet pride beneath the understatement.
Lily just grinned at him.
Their little exchange allowed some of what I’d just learned to sink in, and I discovered I had a lot more questions.
“So are you saying that you have magical powers?” I asked suddenly.
They both turned to look at me with surprised expressions.
“Excuse me?” Fletcher asked.
“You said earlier that two-spirit people had magical powers.”
“No, I said they had spiritual powers.”
“What’s the difference?”
“There’s a huge difference. Magical powers imply that I cast spells and keep a pointy hat in my closet. I’m not Professor Dumbledore. Spiritual powers can come in many different forms. For some, it’s just a heightened perception that allows them to see more clearly. Some are dreamers. Some are healers. Some are seers. Some are all or a combination of these and other gifts.”
“What are you?”
“A little of each.”
“So you can see the future?”
He smiled. “It’s not like gazing into a crystal ball. I get glimpses of what is to come, sometimes clearer than others. I see what the Creator wants me to see.”
Lily was studying me closely. We made eye contact, and I knew without a doubt that she was thinking about my vision of Skye getting hit by that car.
I shook my head “no”, but she just lifted an eyebrow. I knew what she was trying to imply, and I was having none of it.
“Look, this is a lot to take in. I didn’t even know I had a grandfather before today, and then I not only find out that you exist, but also that you’re gay and some sort of…psychic. I think I need to go home and think about all this for a while.”
Fletcher nodded. “I can understand that. It was a lot to dump in your lap all at once. I’m here if you have any questions. Lily, could you get him one of my cards, please?”
Lily left the room through the door into the home office/dining room again, returning less than a minute later with a cream-colored business card, which she handed to me. In large letters across the top it read “Fletcher Snyder – Herbalist”. Under that was his address, phone number, and, to my surprise, his email address and website.
“You have a website?” I asked.
“That’s how I make most of my sales,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I may practice the old ways in some things, but I’m very much a part of the twenty-first century as well.”
“Are you ready to go?” Lily asked. “I’ll give you a ride back to your bike.”
Fletcher perked up. “Bicycle?”
“No, motorcycle,” I said. “Nothing like yours though. It’s just an old Honda.”
“Still, something we have in common,” he said with a pleased smile.
If you only knew, I thought, and exchanged another meaningful glance with Lily.
I nodded and stood up, slipping the card into my pocket.
“It’s been...interesting,” I said with a half-smile, which was as much as I could muster.
“Don’t be afraid to contact me with your questions,” Fletcher said.
I nodded and followed Lily out to the car. Neither of us spoke for a while, but finally she cleared her throat.
“You know you can talk to me any time too, Jacy,” she said gently. “About anything.”
I nodded.
“I’m serious. Don’t just close yourself off to Fletcher and me. You need to talk about all this with someone.”
“I’m not really ready to talk yet,” I said.
“I guess I can understand that.” She paused. “Are you okay with the fact that I’m gay?”
I glanced over at her and shrugged. “I haven’t really had time to think about it, but I guess that doesn’t really matter to me. I’m not as hung up on church and stuff as Mom is. It’s a little weird though. I’ve never really known anyone who is gay, and then I meet two people in one day.”
“Three,” she corrected absently.
“Three?”
“Skye,” she said.
I felt myself start to blush and quickly turned to look out the window.
“You can talk about that with me too, if you want,” Lily offered tentatively.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said quickly with what I hoped was a note of finality.
We fell into silence as we drew closer to the powwow grounds. I could see campers and tents among the trees through my side window. I assumed that was where the powwow participants from out of town stayed. There were clothes hanging outside, barbecue grills wafting smoke, and children running and playing among the temporary dwellings. It reminded me of a modern version of what a tribal village must have been like hundreds of years ago.
Suddenly, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I looked up in time to see a small child dart into the road in front of our car. I only had time to gasp and throw my hands out toward the windshield. I blinked and the child was gone.
“Stop,” I gasped with an intensity that startled even me.
“What?” Lily asked with confusion.
“Stop the car.” Panic was squeezing my chest so tightly I could barely breathe. “Now!”
Lily slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a shuddering halt just as a little girl no older than two toddled into the road in front of us, giggling, blissfully oblivious to how close she had come to death. A young woman, probably the child’s mother, rushed out after the girl, scooping her up and waving apologetically to us, only marginally more aware of how close she had come to losing her child.
Lily sat unmoving, staring out at the road and sucking in short, shallow gasps of air. A car pulled up behind us and honked its horn, but still Lily didn’t move. The car finally pulled carefully around us, the driver staring over angrily at us as he passed.
“Lily?” I asked after a few minutes.
She turned slowly to face me, her dark eyes unreadable. “Jacy, we have to talk.”
“I know. I just...I need to think first.”
“I understand,” she said, her voice firm but gentle, “but you can’t put this off forever. You have some very strong gifts, and now that they’re starting to manifest, they won’t be easy to ignore. Fletcher can help you understand what’s happening — if you’re willing to let him.”
“Okay, but I need some time.”
“Are you okay?”
I shrugged. “Sure. I’ll talk to you soon. My bike’s right over there.” I threw open the car door and climbed out, then stopped awkwardly and leaned back in. “Uh, thanks for, um...telling me the truth and everything.”
Lily sighed. She looked tired all of a sudden. “Sure, Jacy. Sorry to have dumped it all on you at once. Call me if you need me.”
I nodded and waved goodbye. I shut the door and walked away, pushing everything from my mind as best as I could. As I swung my leg over my bike, I briefly wondered if Skye was still there, among the tents and campers, then I decided I wasn’t up for dealing with that just yet either.
I avoided thinking about the whole messy subject for the rest of the night. It helped that I had some distraction in the form of Michael. He showed up at my bedroom door later that night with a hesitant knock.
“Come in,” I called from my bed.
Michael slid into the room. “So,” he said expectantly.
I looked up at him. “So?”
“You said you wanted to talk to me tonight.”
It took a few seconds to remember the incident from earlier that day. It seemed like a millennium had passed since then. It somehow seemed much less important now.
“Oh, that.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been waiting for my lecture all night, and now all I get is an ‘oh that’? You were pretty pissed this afternoon.”
I shrugged. “A lot has happened since then,” I said simply. Then, as an afterthought, added, “But stay away from my bike.”
He stood there for a few beats. “So that’s it?”
“Yep,” I replied.
“You’re not going to tell Aunt Daisy?”
“Nope.”
"And no lecture about the dangers of unprotected sex?"
"God no."
He stood there a minute longer.
“Hey Jay, is everything okay?” he asked suddenly.
I rolled over and looked up at him. He almost never called me Jay anymore; it was his nickname for me when we were kids. “Why?” I asked guardedly.
“You said a lot happened today, and you’re definitely not yourself. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Well, uh, if you change your mind, you know where I am,” he said awkwardly.
He shuffled his feet, then turned to leave.
“Hey Mikey,” I called, also using his childhood nickname. He stopped and faced me. “Thanks, but I’m just not ready to talk. Okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s cool. And I’ll stay away from your bike, I promise.”
I gave him a weak smile and watched as he slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind himself with a soft click. I buried my face in my pillow and the next thing I knew it was morning.
It wasn’t until I was at church sitting in the pew listening to the pastor’s sermon that everything suddenly swirled back into the forefront of my thoughts. He’d picked that day, of all days, to rant about the dangers of homosexuality in our community.
While he stood behind the pulpit gravely intoning all the ways the evil gays were trying to unravel society, I was thinking about the fact that just the day before I’d learned that my grandfather, who I hadn’t even known existed, was gay, and so was my aunt — not to mention Skye.
And me.
There was no denying how much Skye had excited me. Or how much I’d liked his kiss, however brief it had been.
Suddenly, Fletcher’s words came back to me: “Not every gay person is two-spirited, but all two-spirited people are gay, bisexual, or trans.”
I thought about Lily’s conviction that I might be two-spirited, and the memories of the visions I’d had pressed in on me. There was no way to deny them. Twice already, I had seen events unfold before they actually happened. And each time, I had been able to step in and prevent a tragedy.
The weight of it settled over me, equal parts awe and unease. If this was part of who I was, if these gifts were real, then ignoring them wasn’t just foolish — it could be dangerous. And yet, admitting it meant stepping into a world I barely understood, one that carried both responsibility and risk.
Several things clicked into place at once as a sense of certainty settled over me — and with it a sense of Zen-like peace.
I’m gay and I’m two-spirit.
It was easier to accept than I'd thought.
Just then, the preacher’s words cut through my thoughts like a blade. “Homosexuality is an abomination before the Lord!” he thundered, his voice shaking with righteous fury. “And yet, Hollywood parades that lifestyle before us as if it were completely normal. Every week, they force their filth into our homes on television and in movies. It’s time we stood up and made a stand against this immorality before our children are seduced by their lies!”
My stomach turned at the venom in his voice. Not for the first time, I wondered why some people felt the need to shove their beliefs onto others, how anyone could feel threatened by love in any form. I was sickened by the hypocrisy, the glaring contradiction of professing devotion to a God of love while spewing such hatred.
The longer I sat there, the heavier it felt in my chest, like the air itself had turned toxic. I had to get out. I would stand up, yes — but not in the way the pastor expected.
I rose to my feet and began making my way past my family towards the aisle. I’d sat in the center of the pew, so it was quite a production with Michael and my cousins looking startled and my aunt glaring daggers at me.
I finally made it to the aisle and walked out the back door of the sanctuary and out of the church. I knew I’d be in a lot of trouble later, but at that moment, I just didn’t care. I had to get out of there.
I took several deep breaths of fresh air and waited for my stomach to settle.
As usual, we’d all driven in one vehicle, so I was stuck until church let out. Either that or I could start walking. I opted for walking. I set off down the road without a clear destination in mind. It was too far to walk home, but it didn’t matter. More than anything, I just needed to be moving.
I don’t know how long I’d been wandering aimlessly down the street, lost in thought, before the low hum of a car pulling to the shoulder caught my attention. A sleek black sportscar eased to a stop just ahead of me. I froze, wary, my stomach tightening, until the driver’s door opened.
Out stepped Skye.
I couldn’t help it — I laughed out loud. If there was a God, it seemed he had a sharper sense of humor than most of his followers ever gave him credit for.
Skye’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion on his otherwise easy, attractive features.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shaking my head, still grinning. “What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way to a friend’s house,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair, “when I thought I saw you walking. Figured I’d turn around and see if you needed a ride.”
Relief and warmth bloomed in my chest. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem.” He gestured toward the car.
I slid into the passenger seat, the faint smell of leather and cologne wrapping around me. Dance music pulsed from the speakers, Skye’s fingers tapping the beat on the steering wheel as he settled back behind it.
“So where to?” he asked, lowering the volume a notch.
I shrugged. “Nowhere in particular. I was just walking.”
He gave me a once-over, his smile crooked. “You always go for walks dressed like that?”
I glanced down at my navy dress pants and light blue oxford shirt, and laughed. “Fair point. I walked out of church.”
That earned me a curious look.
“It’s a long story,” I said with a grin.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I realized I was smiling without effort. A crushing weight had lifted, and the world seemed lighter, brighter, full of possibility.
“So...tell me,” Skye said. "I've got time."
“Nah. I’m good.”
He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “You’re a riddle wrapped in mystery, Jacy.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said, and the happiness in my voice surprised me.
“I’d like to,” he said, and this time there was no teasing in his tone.
A flutter of nervous heat stirred in my stomach. I looked out the window, suddenly aware of every inch between us — and how much I wanted it gone.
“So where am I taking you?” he asked after a moment.
I hesitated. “I don’t know. Want to...hang out or something? Unless you need to get to your friend’s.”
“That’s not a big deal,” he said easily. “We didn’t have real plans. I’ll just call her.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” He grinned and said, “Alexa, call Jasmine.”
When she picked up, he dove right in: “Hey girl. Change of plans. Picked up a hitchhiker, and we’re going to the zoo. I’ll call you later. Love you, bye.” He hung up before she could reply.
Almost immediately, her photo lit up the screen again.
“You gonna answer?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Nope. Let her wonder.”
I shook my head, amused. “The zoo, huh?”
He nodded. “Unless you have a better idea.”
“That’s fine,” I said, smiling despite myself.
The drive passed in companionable silence, except for the times I caught him sneaking glances at me.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it. “What?”
“What?” he echoed innocently.
“Why do you keep looking at me?”
He laughed. “Besides the fact that you’re really cute?”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “I am not.”
“You so are,” he said with a grin. “But the real reason? You’re different today. Yesterday, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Now, it’s like you can’t stop smiling.”
He wasn’t wrong. I could feel the change.
I nodded. “I feel different. I am different. A lot’s changed since yesterday.”
“How can things change so much in one day?”
“It’s all in how you look at things,” I said. “I know things now that I didn’t know yesterday. I’ve...accepted things I was still fighting.”
“Like what?” he asked, curious but gentle.
I hesitated, then offered a half-truth. “I found out yesterday I had a grandfather I never knew about.”
His brows shot up. “Whoa. That’s intense. How does that even work? How come you didn’t know?”
“My mom never told me. I grew up thinking my Grandpa Allen was my actual grandfather, but turns out he was actually my step-grandfather, and my biological grandfather was still out there.”
“So how’d you find out?”
“My aunt introduced us. Lily.”
“Wait! Fletcher Snyder is your grandfather?”
“Apparently.”
“Wow. If you’re gonna get an instant granddad, you could do worse. Fletcher’s a cool guy — and kind of a big deal. Isn’t he one of the tribal elders?”
I gave a short laugh. “You’d know better than me. I only met him yesterday, remember? What does that even mean — tribal elder?”
Skye glanced at me, surprised. “You really don’t know?”
I shook my head. “Not a clue. My aunt made sure I grew up knowing nothing about any of this.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “The elders...they’re like the council. They help guide the chief, advise on tribal issues, settle disputes. They carry the stories and wisdom of the tribe.” A proud note crept into his voice. “My grandmother’s an elder too. People listen when she speaks.”
I let that settle, a strange heaviness pressing into my chest. Fletcher — my grandfather — wasn’t just some guy selling herbs and tinctures. He was someone people turned to, someone with history and authority. Lily had said as much, but hearing someone else say it made it feel more real.
And all this time, I hadn’t even known he existed.
A part of me swelled with pride, like I had inherited something rare and valuable. Another part of me burned with anger — at my aunt for keeping this from me, at the lost years I could never get back, at myself for feeling both excited and guilty all at once.
“Sounds important,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
“It is,” Skye said as a sly smirk crossed his face. “And let me tell you, there are perks to being the grandson of an elder.”
I stared out the window, chewing on the word lifetime. Fletcher had lived his whole life steeped in something I was only now brushing against, and it was supposed to be mine too — my heritage, my story. But I was a stranger here.
And yet, for the first time, I wanted to belong.
By the time he pulled into the Salisbury Zoo parking lot, I was buzzing with a strange mix of nerves and anticipation. We wandered through the exhibits, watching otters tumble and monkeys chatter, pausing at the sleek black jaguar pacing its enclosure. Skye’s arm brushed mine now and then, casual, unintentional — but every time, my skin buzzed with electricity.
When my phone rang and Aunt Daisy’s name flashed on the screen, I declined. I’d face her wrath later. At that moment, I wanted...whatever it was we were doing. Was it a date? Two friends hanging out? I wasn't sure, but I knew I liked it.
After the zoo, Skye suggested a walk on the park trail, and I agreed instantly. Anything to keep the day from ending.
We passed a playground alive with children’s laughter until the sounds faded behind us. A small wooden bridge arched over a tributary, and we stopped in the middle, leaning against the railing. I watched fish dart below the water’s surface, their scales catching the light like quicksilver.
Then I felt Skye’s arms slip around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.
Instinct tensed every muscle, my eyes flicking around for witnesses. But the path was empty, the world ours alone. Slowly, I let myself relax into his embrace.
“Something else is different about you,” he murmured.
“What’s that?” I asked, my voice dropping to match his.
“You would have freaked out if I did this yesterday.”
I turned in his arms until I was facing him, my breath catching at how close he was. “That was yesterday.”
“So what’s different?” he asked, leaning in.
“Everything,” I whispered, closing the space between us.
Our lips met, and the rest of the world fell away.
All good things must come to an end, and my idyllic afternoon with Skye was no exception. I knew I had to go home and face Aunt Daisy eventually, and I’d put it off long enough.
“I guess you should take me home,” I said as Skye gave me a playful push on one of the swings at the far end of the park.
After our kiss on the bridge, we’d spent the next hour walking and talking, trading life stories, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. It felt like something out of a dream. But the shadows were growing longer, and reality was waiting.
“I wish this afternoon didn’t have to end,” I added with a sigh.
“We’ll see each other again,” Skye said easily. With one last push, he circled around to stand in front of me. “At least, I’d like to see you again. And I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
He flashed that cocky grin I’d already grown to love and held out his arms.
I grinned back and jumped from the swing into him. “You know I want to see you again,” I said, suddenly serious. “I’ll probably be grounded until I’m eighteen after today, though.”
He frowned. “Just for walking out of church? Just say you felt sick or something.”
“Then she’ll want to know why I didn’t wait for them and where I’ve been all afternoon. And why I ignored her phone calls.”
"She called?"
"Several times."
He snorted. “What’re you going to tell her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. The truth maybe?”
“Really?” His tone shifted, cautious. “And what would that be?”
“That I was with my boyfriend,” I said with a smile.
The word boyfriend felt solid, real, like it had been waiting for me to claim it. But instead of returning my smile, Skye’s expression faltered. He stepped back, letting his arms fall away.
“Jacy...”
The warning in his voice made my stomach sink. “I was just kidding,” I said quickly, though we both knew I wasn’t.
“Jacy, I think you’re really sweet, and I like hanging out with you. You're definitely cute. But I’m not looking for a boyfriend. We're young. We should have fun before we settle down. You know, sow our wild oats.”
“I didn’t ask you to marry me,” I snapped. The sharpness in my tone betrayed how badly his words stung. Not looking for a boyfriend? So what was I — just some fling?
He shifted, uncomfortable. “Look, I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression. Don’t crash out. We had a good time, right?”
I wanted to scream that it was more than a “good time.” But instead, I gave him a grudging nod.
“And maybe we’ll have more good times together again. I’d like that. Maybe even naked good times." He waggled his eyebrows. "We just won’t be...you know...boyfriends.”
His casual dismissal scraped raw against something tender inside me. “So what would we be, Skye? Acquaintances? Bros? Fuck buddies?”
He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the bite in my words. “Why do we have to be anything? Who needs labels?”
I turned away from him, walking toward the riverbank. The water rippled with late sunlight, calm where I felt anything but. Maybe I was a naive kid or a hopeless romantic, but I’d thought our kiss meant something. That he meant something. Clearly, he wanted something very different than I did.
When I looked back, Skye was still standing where I’d left him, arms crossed, wary and defensive.
“Can you take me home now?” I asked flatly.
He nodded.
We walked back through the zoo, but the spark between us had died. The playful nudges, the easy laughter — all gone. We kept our distance, as though afraid to brush too close.
In the car, silence pressed down until Skye finally broke it. “Hey, sorry if you feel like I led you on. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t lead me on,” I said softly. “I led myself on. You never promised me anything. I was warned to be careful around you, but I didn’t listen.”
His head snapped toward me. “Who warned you about me?”
I waved the question away. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re entitled to want what you want. But so am I. And I want more than this. I want my first relationship to be special. I want romance. I want a boyfriend.”
He shook his head, exasperated. “Jacy, we just met. Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast?”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “But I thought there was something real between us.”
“That’s attraction. Sparks. You’re hot, I’m hot. Can’t we just enjoy that?”
The words hollowed me out. “But I want...more.”
“You want a fairy tale, some Wattpad romance. That doesn't exist in real life."
“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want a fairy tale. I just want to feel like I matter. And I don't wanna just sleep around. I'm not just a slut.”
He flinched. “So what, you’re saying I’m a slut?”
“What? No! I mean... We just...want different things. That’s all.”
The rest of the drive was thick with silence, every mile widening the gap between us.
When he finally pulled into the dirt lane that led to my house, relief and dread crashed together in my chest. I wanted out of the car, out of this conversation, out of the hollow ache gnawing at me. But I also dreaded what was waiting for me inside.
I climbed out, then turned back to him. “Thanks.”
He gave a short nod, his face unreadable, but just as I shut the door, he called out through the open window.
“For the record, Jacy...not everything has to mean something. Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. Grow up.”
The words hit harder than a slap. I stood frozen in the dust as he drove away, watching his taillights disappear.
Just then, the back door flew open and Michael spilled out, staring after Skye’s car, already hidden by a cloud of dust.
“Dude, you are in so much trouble,” he said, confirming my worst suspicions. “Where have you been?”
“I just needed to get away,” I said simply.
I started toward the house, figuring I might as well get this over with now instead of putting it off any longer.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“A friend.” I walked past my little brother, ruffling his hair as I went.
"You don't have any friends."
"Not now, Michael. It was nice knowing you,” I added as I opened the door.
“Who was it, Michael?” Aunt Daisy called from the living room. "Is Jacy home yet?"
“It’s me,” I called back.
“Jacy!” Her voice was so harsh that I flinched.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen with her jaw set and her eyes flashing. She was a few inches shorter than me, but the anger twisting her face made me take a step back.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “What were you thinking, just up and walking out of church! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me and the family? I had to lie to the pastor and tell him you weren’t feeling well.”
“I never asked you to lie to anyone, and besides, it wasn’t a lie. I was feeling sick to my stomach and I had to get out of there.”
“Don’t get smart with me. Why didn’t you wait outside, and where on earth have you been?”
“I went for a walk, and a friend drove by and offered me a ride, so we went to the zoo for a while.”
“I can’t believe you would do that without telling me. Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?”
I noticed Ariel, Gabriel, Raphael and Dina crowding around the door, all the better to hear me getting in trouble. I was sure Michael was still at the back door listening as well. It was a rare enough event that I could understand their interest.
“We didn’t know whether to wait for you or come home," she continued, still working up to her full head of steam. "We had no idea where you were. Who was this friend, anyway?”
“I’m sorry you were worried,” I said, doubting very seriously that she’d been all that worried. It was much more likely that she was just embarrassed and pissed. “My friend’s name is Skye.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Skye Morgan?” she asked.
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to know who he was.
“Yeah.”
“How do you know him? He doesn’t even go to your school.”
I quickly tried to think of a plausible lie. I couldn’t very well tell her that I’d met him at the powwow while I was there with Aunt Lily to meet the grandfather she’d never told me about. At the thought of Fletcher, I began to get angry all over again, but I tried to suppress my resentment.
Then I remembered the first time I’d seen Skye at work. “He comes in to get ice cream with someone I know from school,” I said.
She eyed me suspiciously. I could tell she suspected there was more to the story.
“How long have you been friends with him?”
“Not long,” I said. “I don’t really know him that well.”
“Did you know he’s a homosexual?”
My mouth dropped open in shock. How did she know that? True, Skye didn’t exactly hide the fact, but I didn’t even know my mother knew who he was, let alone that he was gay.
“How do you know that?” I gasped before I could stop myself.
Her face grew red. “So, you did know. I can’t believe you would associate yourself with one of them.”
She said “them” as if she was referring to a pile of animal dung in which she’d just stepped. I felt my own face growing red with stifled emotions.
“Weren’t you listening to the pastor this morning?” She stopped as she put two and two together. “Is... Is that why you walked out?”
Her expression was so horrified that I almost laughed, except there was nothing funny about this situation. I had to make a choice, and I had to make it quickly. Would I back down and insist that I’d walked out simply because I was feeling sick, or would I take a stand and admit that it was the pastor’s words that had made me sick?
While I was trying to decide what to do, Aunt Daisy’s expression became even more revolted — if that was possible — as a new thought occurred to her.
“Oh God, Jacy! Please tell me you’re not involved with that…that…pervert.”
Suddenly, the events of the last few days boiled over and I lost it. “And what if I was?” I said in a deceptively calm voice. “Would you just write me out of your life and pretend I didn’t exist? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done that, would it?”
She froze. “What are you talking about?” She searched my face.
“I know everything,” I told her, challenging her with my stare.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she bluffed, but her eyes gave her away.
“Remember that school project you wouldn’t help me with?”
She shook her head, not to say that she didn’t remember it, but that she didn’t understand.
“When you wouldn’t help me, I went to Grandma Allen, but she wouldn’t help me either. So then I went to Aunt Lily.”
Mom’s eyes grew wide. “She…she told you?”
“Not at first. She wanted to be sure I was ready to know. Yesterday, she introduced me to my grandfather. You know the one. The one you’ve lied to us about all these years, the one I didn’t even know existed.”
“That man is not your grandfather,” she spat. “He lost the right to be called your grandfather the day he walked out on us. Lily had no right to tell you about any of this. How dare she?”
She was practically shaking with rage at this point. I took a step backward just to be out of her reach. She’d never hit one of us kids before, but then, I’d never seen her this angry either.
“Don’t be angry at Lily. She just told me the truth.”
“That was my decision to make, not hers. You’re my responsibility. It was better you didn’t know about that worthless excuse for a human being. What has she been telling you? She’s probably filled your head full of lies, making him seem so noble and romantic.”
“You’re the one who’s been filling my head full of lies,” I interrupted heatedly. “You lied about Grandpa Allen being my real grandfather.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? My true heritage?”
“Heritage? I can tell you’ve been talking to Lily and him.” She couldn’t even bring herself to say his name. “What exactly is your heritage, Jacy? A bunch of grown people jumping around in ridiculous costumes trying to recapture the past, worshiping pagan gods, and pretending to be something they’re not? You’re better than that. You know the truth.”
“You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the ass.” I’d crossed the line and I knew it as soon as the words left my mouth.
“That’s it,” she snapped, biting off each word. “You’re grounded for six months. You’re not to see Skye Morgan anymore. You’re not to see Lily again. And you’re certainly never going to see him again.”
“They’re my family. You can’t stop me from seeing them.”
“Oh yes I can.”
“I’ll go when I’m supposed to be at work.”
“Then you’ve worked your last day. You can quit your job tomorrow.”
“You can’t control every second of my life.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. As long as you live under my roof, you’ll obey my rules.”
“Fine, then maybe I won’t live under your roof anymore.”
“And where do you think you’ll go?”
“I can live with Aunt Lily or Fletcher.”
She flinched at the mention of his name. “Maybe that’s the best place for you,” she sneered, “with other queers.”
My breath caught in my throat. I guess that answered the question of whether or not she knew Lily was a lesbian.
“You know,” I said quietly, “for years I’ve felt so guilty about being attracted to guys that I blocked it out of my head completely. This weekend, though, it was like having a veil lifted from my eyes, and for the first time in my life I saw things clearly. I had an epiphany as I sat there in church this morning listening to the pastor preach hatred. It felt so wrong that it made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t sit there and listen to it anymore. I had to get out. It’s funny how you can’t bear the lie once you’ve been introduced to the truth. Kind of like how I can barely stand to look at you now that I know you lied to me for so long.
“Oh, and just so you know, I wasn’t involved with Skye. I was telling the truth when I said that I barely knew him. I had a great time with him today. I felt freer than I think I’ve ever felt before, but I don’t know him well enough to even call him a friend. But I did kiss him today, and you know what? I’m not sorry.”
The look of disgust on her face spoke volumes. “Get out,” she commanded in a strangled voice. “Get out and don’t come back. You don’t have a home here anymore.”
I shrugged. “I'm not sure I ever had a home here. You provided for us — shelter, clothes, food — but that's it. Michael and I were always the outsiders, the poor orphans you took in out of some sense of obligation or, worse, Christian charity.”
"I sacrificed for you," she snapped, face red, eyes blazing.
"And I thank you for that. But you also lied to us and tried to brainwash us with your hateful religion, all while keeping us from our own culture."
"How dare you?" her voice trembled with barely contained rage.
"How dare you?" For the first time, my calm exterior cracked just a bit, and the venom I felt leaked into my tone. "How dare you ignore what our parents would have wanted? How dare you strip our identities from us? How dare you keep us from our own family?"
"I raised you in a godly home."
"You controlled us."
"Spare the rod—"
"No, spare me your lame excuses for abuse."
"That's it! Get out!"
"Gladly. And also, fuck you."
Her eyes widened in shock, but I didn't wait for her reaction, I just turned and charged out the door.
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