Intertwined

For the first time since starting school, they headed outside together. The air was cool, the sky overcast. Dan was at the truck, about to open the door when he spotted Aden and froze. As if Aden were cursed, the sun broke through a wall of clouds and spotlighted him, seeming brighter than ever. He had to blink against it, his injured eye burning and tearing. Guess he wouldn’t be putting off the conversation, after all.



“Where’d you get the bruises, Aden?” Dan only used that hard tone when he was fighting his anger.



Here goes. He squared his shoulders, even as his stomach clenched painfully. “Ozzie and I had a little disagreement. We’re over it, and we’re sorry.” Short, sweet and honest.



Dan stomped around the truck, bearing down on him. “You know better than to resort to physical violence, no matter the problem. That’s one of the reasons you’re here, to get a handle on your violent tendencies.”



“This was a one-time thing and won’t happen again.”



“I’ve heard that before.” The big guy scrubbed a hand down his face, some of the stiffness leaving him. “I can’t believe you did this. I get you into public school, I buy you clothes, make sure you’re fed. All I ask is that you get along.”



His companions started screaming inside his head, trying to tell him what to say. Loud as they currently were, he heard only a jumble of indistinguishable words. “We made a mistake. We learned from it. Isn’t that what’s important?” Hopefully, that fit.



Dan worked his jaw. “Doesn’t matter if you learned something or not. Actions have consequences. I have to punish you. You know that, too, right?”



“Punish me?” That, Aden heard. He tossed up his arms, his irritation boiling over with the same potency his rage had boiled over last night. “It’s not like you’re perfect, Dan. It’s not like you haven’t made mistakes.”



His caregiver’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”



Don’t do it, each of his companions shouted in unison. No mistaking their meaning this time.



“You know,” he said anyway. “You and Ms. Killerman.”



Now his companions moaned.



Dan’s mouth fell open. He stared at Aden in silence for several moments, the time ticking away in tune to the crickets’ chirps. Finally, his gaze shot to Shannon. “Get in the truck. I’ll drive you to school.” His tone was no longer hard or upset, but flat. No emotion.



Shannon hesitated only a moment, his expression sympathetic, before obeying.



Dan crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know how you learned about Ms. Killerman or what you think you know, but I assure you, I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. Because that’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”



He stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded, the action tentative. He’d started this; he would see it through.



“Well, you’re wrong. I flirt with her solely for the sake of you boys, and Meg is very aware of it. Sometimes she’s even in the same room while I’m doing it because it’s the only way I can stomach what I have to say and hear. But I do it because it keeps you boys here when you should be pulled in for violence. Or drugs. Or theft. Or any number of other things. I do it because your requests are processed before anyone else’s. How do you think you got into public school so quickly?”



“I—I—”



Dan wasn’t done. “At first, I couldn’t believe I’d called her and asked her to make it happen. But then I remembered your disappointment when I told you it wasn’t going to happen. So I called her again and asked her to hurry things along. And you know what? She did. Do you think she does that for everyone? She had to get state and school approval. She had to fight the powers that be. I had to fight.”



Guilt, white-hot and laced with acid, swept through him. He’d judged and condemned Dan without all the facts. Something that had been done to him time and time again. Something he’d sworn never to do to others. As honest and forthright as Dan was, he should have known better.



“Dan,” he began, tortured.



“Appearances are often deceiving, Aden,” Dan said softly. “Next time you think poorly of me, I hope you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt. Come to me, talk to me.”



“I will. And I’m sorry I didn’t this time.” He raised his chin and met Dan’s stare. “I just hope you’ll do the same for me. Give me the benefit of the doubt.”



Dan crossed his arms over his chest, another of those long silences taking hold. What was going through his head, Aden didn’t know. Whatever it was, though, caused his expression to change from suspicion to chagrin and finally to acceptance.



“Get in the truck,” Dan said gruffly.



Get in the—what? Did that mean…was he…



“Am I pretending the fight never happened? Yeah. I’ve been where you are, and I know what it’s like to be judged and convicted when you’re innocent. So I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and trusting that you did what you did for a reason. But it better not happen again. Now, don’t just stand there. Move, move, move. You don’t want to be late for first period.”



Aden couldn’t help himself. He threw himself at Dan and gave a quick squeeze. Dan grunted and mussed his hair, and Aden grinned before jumping into the truck.



When they reached the school parking lot, Aden saw that Mary Ann was waiting at the double doors, watching the woods expectantly. For him? He wanted to believe it, but as many times as she’d run from him after school…



The moment the truck reached the drop-off lane, easing forward, that swift, jolting wind cut through him, straight into his chest. The souls groaned, disappearing into their black void. Aden’s guilt returned, although for a different reason. They had helped him get into this school and endured the pain of the darkness so that he could find them a way out, bodies of their own. So far, he hadn’t done anything to keep his part of the bargain.



That would change. Today. He’d already decided to force Mary Ann to talk to him, hoping to learn what was going on inside her head, but now, he’d take it a step further. He would reveal the rest of his abilities—no matter how he feared she would react—and find out how she sent the souls away.



He studied her more closely. She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept in days, and there were shadows under her eyes. A frown pulled at the corners of her lips. Usually she was bubbling over with energy, had a smile for everyone.



Mary Ann’s frown became a scowl as her friend Penny approached. Penny looked worse than Mary Ann, her face swollen as if she’d been crying. Mary Ann said something, head shaking violently. Penny grabbed her hand. Mary Ann ripped it away and disappeared inside the building.



What had that been about?



The truck stopped at the curb. “Behave, boys. And Aden, do not resort to violence again. We clear?”



“Absolutely. And…thank you.”



Dan nodded, offered him a half smile. “See you later.”



Aden and Shannon slid outside and once again walked together as they entered the building. Aden couldn’t deny that he liked having someone at his side. Someone who might also watch his back.



“Y-you wanna have lunch together?” Shannon asked him.



“Aw, how sweet,” a nearby voice sneered. Tucker’s voice. Aden recognized it, hated it. Every time Mary Ann was out of range, Tucker had called him names, tripped him or thrown paper wads at him. “Sounds like Stutter and Crazy are dating now.”



A wave of laughter swept the hall.



Aden ground his teeth. He ignored the jock—no more violence, no more violence, no more freaking violence—and said to Shannon, “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”



Shannon gave a barely discernible nod, his gaze falling to the floor, his cheeks pinkening, and was off to his first class.



Tucker slammed into Aden’s shoulder as he walked by, knocking his backpack to the floor.



“Watch it,” the jock growled, then stopped and whistled, losing all traces of his anger as he studied Aden’s battered face. “Well, well, well. Someone must have been a naughty boy to have gotten such a spanking.”



How could Mary Ann stand this guy? He was like a pile of manure hidden in a shiny box.



Without a word, Aden picked up his bag and stalked off.



“That’s right. Run away, coward,” Tucker called smugly.



He could feel hundreds of eyes on him, watching, judging, maybe even pitying. They thought he was afraid of Tucker. He hated that, but couldn’t set them straight. Not just because he had to avoid violence of every kind—and that’s what would happen if he challenged Tucker, bloody, gruesome violence—but because of Mary Ann. She might not like it if he ground her boyfriend’s face into powder.



Bottling his anger cost him, though. He barely made it through his first class. For some reason, Mary Ann wasn’t there. He wished he could follow her lead. He almost stomped from the room a thousand times, his nerves too raw to deal with the lecture and the students. The souls were once again chattering in his mind, trying to comfort him but their voices were only growing in intensity, blending with everyone around him and finally culminating into a roar.



Of course, that’s when Mr. Klein pointed to him and asked him a question. He couldn’t decipher the words, much less form a coherent reply, so Mr. Klein decided to make an example of him and his inattention and had him stand beside his desk the entire class.



If one more person snickered at him, he was going to snap.



His second and third classes weren’t much better. The second, geometry, should have been pleasant, since he had that with Mary Ann, as well, but once again she wasn’t there. Had she left? Plus, there was a new kid who’d taken the open desk beside Aden and prattled on the entire hour. New himself, Aden sympathized with the need for a friend—but God, he needed a moment of peace.



“You better stop,” Aden whispered midway through the class. “You’ll get in trouble, and you don’t want to be on Ms. Carrington’s bad side. I hear she bites, and not the good way.”