Page 24 of Kane

I can feel my stomach twisting into knots the longer I stay.

“Just… don’t worry about me, Claire, okay? I’m fine, I don’t—”

Claire grabs my wrist, halting my movement.

“No, you’re not,” she says firmly. “You don’t have any friends, or—”

“Would you stop?” I say, yanking my hand back.

“I don’t think that’s helpful, baby,” Tori says, her smooth voice only pissing me off.

“Really? Since when do you know what’s helpful, Tori?”

I realize the moment I say it that it’s the wrong thing to say. Claire’s eyebrows furrow and she looks like I just told her I killed a kitten.

Though Tori doesn’t look phased in the least. I’m pretty sure her facial muscles are permanently frozen in resting bitch face mode.

“Ryder!” Claire snaps, and I feel like the biggest asshole. Tori doesn’t even blink, and I don’t know if that’s better or worse.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No you’re not,” Tori says, and I hate that she’s right.

“I should just…” I run a hand through my hair and take a step backward, towards the hallway.

“Ryder…” Claire’s voice softens, but it’s no use. I need to get out of here. I need air. I need—

I head for the coat rack, grabbing my coat and slipping on my boots as heavy footsteps sound down the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Claire asks, her voice shaking.

“Out,” I say sharply. “To meet people and make friends,” I say with more venom than I mean to, but I can’t deny something about Tori’s apathy, about Claire’s helicopter-sistering… suddenly I feel like our tiny ass apartment is suffocating in a way that has nothing to do with size.

“Just let him go, baby,” Tori says, her voice betraying no emotion, as usual.

Right now, I wish I could be that cold. It would be better than feeling like a broken toy that won’t work right.

The oven timer buzzes loudly as I stare at Claire and Tori. I could take one step forward and tell Claire I changed my mind. That I’ll go to the stupid speed dating thing if it will shut her up and make her happy and get her to stop pressuring me to move on from something she doesn’t even understand or know about.

It would be the smart thing to do.

The reasonable thing to do.

It’s what a good brother would do.

But I guess I’m not a very smart or a very good brother, because I don’t take that step towards her like I know I should.

Instead, I settle my hand on the doorknob, my heart in my throat as silence breeds between us; thick and suffocating.

“Hope the lasagna’s as good as it smells,” I say, slipping out the door and shutting it before I can change my mind.

I stand there in the cold hallway, my heart in my throat for what feels like eternity until I manage to start walking, and once I find the movement, my feet pick up; faster and faster.

I don’t think, I just walk. I don’t know where I’m going. All I know is the snow is coming down, and I should be in there, where it’s warm; with my sister and Wednesday Addams listening to creepy crime docs and eating cheesy pasta.

But instead, I’m out here, alone, again. Tears form in my eyes, and I fight to push them back. It’s too cold, and I fear they’ll turn to ice, just like the rest of me.

Because I know for certain Claire is right.