Charcoal Tears by Jane Washington Page B

to, but it made drifting from one note to the next much smoother. I kept messing up, and eventually I nudged Noah away so that I could practise without him making me nervous.
    The monotonous task helped to calm the thoughts that ran riot in my head, but it wasn’t enough to control the sickening clench in the pit of my stomach.
    I didn’t know why, but somewhere deep inside, I felt unnatural. I felt as though a spell had been cast over me, and I no longer had any choice in how my life would progress, but that was entirely nonsensical. 
    What did it matter if the boys weren’t normal? What did it matter if this wasn’t a normal friendship?
     
     

5

     
    The Paired People
     
     
    I borrowed Cabe’s phone to call Tariq, and they dropped me off at the park he was hanging
    out in. I spotted some of his friends as I jumped out of the car and approached.
    “Hey!” I called out.
    Tariq jogged over to me, a few of his friends following behind. His shaggy hair was dewy with sweat and his eyes were alight with his own unique brand of happiness—a sight I often marvelled over.
    I accepted the keys Tariq handed me and his friends all said hello to me, calling me by name. I nodded to them in response, a little uncomfortable that they knew who I was—since they had never paid me any mind before Cabe and Noah switched to our school. Tariq grumbled something, shooting a look at them as we walked back to the car. They still watched our retreat.
    “What?” I nudged him.
    “Nothing.” He continued to grumble.
    We got into the car and I backed out of the parking lot, driving past the jeep. I wasn’t surprised when it followed behind, but Tariq was.
    “Seph?”
    “Yeah?”
    “They’re following.”
    “I know, Tariq.”
    He sighed and relaxed back against the seat. “They make me pretty uncomfortable, and I really don’t know what to say about the way they act around you… but—”
    “But there’s no real basis?” I couldn’t help the bite to my tone, and I worked to soften it. “They’re helping.”
    “I know they are. That’s sort of what I was getting to. You’re smiling, and laughing, and painting again.” He shrugged. “If it’s because of them, I guess I’d prefer them to hang around.”
    We parked down the road and made our way to the house, Tariq dropping behind me as we passed through the door. Silence greeted us, and I did a quick sweep of the rooms, trying to ignore the new computer that sat in the unused dining room, conveniently tucked away beside the sagging cupboard that used to hold our mother’s fancy dinner set—but now housed a small rat colony, no doubt. I suspected that nobody ever came into this room, and the mysterious Silas had clearly come to the same conclusion—though it wasn’t a far reach, as there was a thick layer of dust that coated the floor, table, and windowsills.
    Gerald was gone, I concluded upon returning to the kitchen, and so was the money .
    I said goodbye to Tariq and ran back to my car, waving to the boys before I got inside. I waited for them to take off before I put my car into gear, determined that they didn’t find out about the club just yet. I arrived at work only ten minutes early as opposed to my usual couple of hours. Sally seemed relieved, and I could tell that she had been wondering if something had happened to me. I almost never missed a shift. I prepped the bar and then moved down to the entrance as people started to file in.
    I stamped hands, ignored pickup lines, and ground my teeth together at the touches that lingered. I wasn’t even looking at their faces anymore, and when someone’s hand pulled at mine, the difference in touch was immense. It robbed the air from my body. Every other hand had been cold, clammy even. This one was warm, it sparked something to life inside my chest, and I didn’t have to look up to know that it was my silent stranger. He gently turned my hand outward, using it as a cradle to display his palm, and he reached for