Unnatural (16 page)

“He knows about you and Nakano,” Ciaran said. The moment Ciaran saw Ronan between classes, he told
him. He knew he would eventually tell him. Why act as if he were going to keep this information to himself? Why not just get it out in the open as quickly as possible and spare himself hours, it not days, of anguish contemplating exactly when and precisely how to convey the news to Ronan, when in the end the result was going to be the same. If anything, Ciaran was practical.

Slowly, disbelief crept into Ronan’s face. “Why did you tell him?”

And this is how I’m repaid.
“I didn’t say I told him,” Ciaran said, hurt, but unfortunately not surprised by Ronan’s immediate reaction. “You really think I’d do such a thing?”

Disbelief was replaced by guilt. “No. I’m sorry,” Ronan said quietly. “How? Are you sure?”

“I don’t know how he found out, but he definitely knows,” Ciaran replied. “If Michael had a wooden stake, Nakano would be ashes by now.”

What did he just say?
“You think this is funny?”

“I think this is a mess, a mess that you created, and a mess that’s going to bring us all down.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ciaran looked at Ronan; he couldn’t believe that
someone like him could sometimes be so innocent. “Do you really think that Michael is going to want to become a part of your life when he finds out exactly what you are? Do you think that he’s going to remain quiet like I have?”

Ronan looked at Ciaran; he couldn’t believe that someone like him could sometimes be so resentful. “I think that this really doesn’t concern you, so you shouldn’t bloody worry about it.”

“Well, I do worry. As much as I’m sure you’d like to forget, I am your brother. I may not be treated like it, but I am a part of this family,” Ciaran said, fighting to keep his voice low among the mid-class traffic. “So you can all push me aside, ignore me, and it won’t change a thing. I know everything and I haven’t said a word. I doubt you’ll be able to say the same thing about Michael when he finds out.”

Ciaran turned to run, but Ronan grabbed him by the arm.
God, his hands are so strong.
“You’re wrong,” Ronan said. “Michael’s different; there’s something about him, there’s a reason he came here and into my life. I can just feel it.”

He didn’t want to, but Ciaran shook his arm free of Ronan’s grasp. “And you’re willing to risk everything on a feeling?”

It was useless to lie to Ciaran, so Ronan told the truth. “Yes.”

It’s not what Ciaran wanted to hear, but it’s what he knew Ronan would say. He knew this was how it was going to play out the second he saw Michael glare at Nakano; this would be the domino effect, this was how things were going to end up, with him walking away by himself yet again, and Ronan running off in pursuit of some absurd romantic notion. Ciaran may have been logical and thought-out, but he didn’t know everything,
because Ronan didn’t run off after Michael, he went to find Nakano.

The area behind St. Martha’s was usually secluded. The only activity took place in the early morning when either a truck came to deliver food to the main building or another truck came to take garbage away from the three large Dumpsters made of steel and always sealed shut so none of the animals who lived and roamed on the campus would be attracted to the smell of decaying food. So except for the early morning hours, it was a desolate place. Except for now.

Sitting on the ground with his back against the cold steel, Nakano could smell death inches away. He loved it. He loved taking a deep breath and letting the rottenness fill his body; he loved allowing something to penetrate him that humans found so incredibly repulsive. It gave him power. He was so much better than all of them, and one of these days they were going to understand just how superior he was. Until then he would be satisfied knowing that Ronan thought he was special. And he did. Just look at how he stared at him.

Several feet away, directly across from Nakano, almost hidden by some wild bushes, Ronan stood. And yes, he was staring, but no, he was not happy. “What did you do?” Ronan asked.

“I knew you’d find me here,” Nakano said. “It’s our special place.”

Ronan didn’t move a muscle, but suddenly he was standing in front of Nakano, towering over him. His
shoulders square, the thick vein in his neck twitching every other second, Ronan looked down at him. “I asked you a question.” Ronan gave Nakano exactly three seconds to reply and when he didn’t, he reached out his hand and then Nakano was standing. Actually, he was floating a few inches off the ground and Ronan was holding him by his shirt collar. Nakano’s feet dangled, unable to find a flat surface. He looked as helpless as a pup being carried by the scruff of the neck by its mother, but Ronan wasn’t holding Nakano gently, he wasn’t carrying his newborn to a safe place; he was clutching Nakano’s clothing, even some flesh, and pressing him against the rough surface of the Dumpster because he was angry, betrayed. He raised Nakano an inch higher and with his left hand he pressed into his shoulder, pushing most of his weight into him until Nakano winced. “Tell me,” Ronan growled, “what did you do?”

It was hard for Nakano to form words in this position, but he managed to squeak one out. “Nothing.” Ronan pushed into him harder. Now his full weight was pressing against Nakano and in response the Dumpster creaked loudly as if awakening from a long, unbothered slumber, and rose a few inches from the ground. Nakano found more words, all of which sounded breathless and desperate when finally spoken. “I didn’t do anything.” Unfortunately, Ronan didn’t believe him.

He let go of Nakano and for a split second Nakano thought it was over—this was just one of those rough games Ronan liked to play—but he was wrong. Ronan was repositioning himself. Before Nakano could slide
even an inch down the side of the Dumpster, and before the Dumpster could fall even the slightest bit back down to earth, Ronan grabbed Nakano by the throat with his right hand and with his left pulled Nakano’s wrist down toward his thigh and twisted. Again he pressed his weight on top of him and repeated his question, this time his words containing more force. “What did you do?”

The Dumpster groaned against the weight and the unfamiliar position, rising just a bit higher. Nakano was afraid they would tip over. He tried to struggle beneath Ronan, he tried to break free, but he knew from past experience that his attempts would be futile. Ronan was stronger. Usually that fact filled him with excitement and desire, but right here, pinned against the side of the Dumpster, diagonal, Nakano was filled with fear.

“Get … off … me!” Nakano cried, gasping for air.

Ronan hadn’t even broken into a sweat. “Not until you tell me what you said to Michael.”

A red robin perched on the end of the Dumpster. Curious and small, it looked at Nakano and chirped. Once. Once more, and then as quickly as it arrived, it flew away.
Yes, fly away,
Nakano thought,
and I’ll follow.
One last attempt. Nakano pushed all his strength against Ronan, which was formidable, and the Dumpster slammed down onto the ground, small clouds of brown dust rising like little mushrooms, then evaporating into the air. “I didn’t say anything to him,” Nakano spat before turning to run. But he didn’t get far at all. Before he reached the edge of the Dumpster, Ronan had
grabbed him from behind, Ronan’s right arm wedged underneath his chin, his left arm holding on to Nakano’s wrist and bending it backward so his hand was in the middle of his shoulder blades. Involuntarily, Nakano squealed out in pain. “I’ll break it, Kano,” Ronan whispered in his ear. “I’ll break it right off. You know I can.”

Nakano writhed against Ronan’s chest, his legs flailing until Ronan twisted his arm just a bit more and the pain became too great. “I didn’t say anything. He saw us!”

Ronan released his grip but didn’t let go. “Where?”

His breathing rough, Nakano replied as succinctly as possible. “Outside St. Florian’s, under the tree.”

Michael must have seen us talking, Ronan realized. He must have seen me reach out and embrace Nakano. But he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that I was consoling him because I feel sorry for him. I pity Nakano because he can’t have the kind of life that I do and because, as harsh as it sounds, I will never love him the way he loves me. “You saw him?”

Nakano let his hands rest on Ronan’s arms, which still held him under his chin. So strong and warm, how many afternoons did they spend in the secrecy of The Forest of No Return like this, lying on the cool earth, Ronan’s arm around Nakano? Those days could not be over forever; they just couldn’t be. “Yes,” he answered defiantly. “And he ran off because he knew what he saw.”

Ronan spun Nakano around so they faced each other
and then, unable to control his fury, he slammed him back into the Dumpster. Over the echo of steel, Ronan asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Too incensed to lie, Nakano spoke the truth, at least as he saw it. “Because it’s better this way,” Nakano said. “It’s better that it’s over before it even begins. Michael isn’t worthy of you. He wouldn’t even stay and fight for you once he thought you were with someone else, someone who is perfect for you!”

The rage Ronan was feeling quite unexpectedly turned to laughter. “You? You’re perfect for me?” If anyone happened to witness Ronan just at this moment, they would never have imagined that mere seconds before, he had been capable of breaking Nakano into pieces. He was laughing hysterically, which was only making Nakano even more furious.

“Do not laugh at me!”

“Then don’t say stupid things! You know as well as I do that you’re not perfect for me. You’ve told me so yourself.”

“I never said that,” Nakano protested.

A little bit of the rage was returning and Ronan glowered. “How many times have you told me that I’m different? How many times have you reminded me that even though your race despises me, you personally understand that I cannot be judged for what I am?” Ronan hissed. “And now you tell me that you’re perfect for me? What am I supposed to do but laugh?”

Nakano slammed his fist into the Dumpster, denting
it slightly, but not even bruising his knuckle. He was angry because once again he was not only battling Ronan, he was battling himself. His heart was speaking a language his mind didn’t fully comprehend. “I know what I said, I know what our races believe, but I also know you and me and I know that we are perfect together.”

Now Ronan saw Nakano for what he was. A sad little boy who was trying to think for himself, but not yet capable. “You don’t mean that, not really. You only think we’re perfect for each other because you think I might be able to find happiness with someone else,” Ronan explained. “Until Michael arrived, you were ignoring me.”

“That’s not true!”

“I told you yesterday, Kano, what we had was wonderful; it really was very sweet, but it’s over,” Ronan said as kindly as he could. “It’s part of our past and it’s not going to be repeated, so you need to accept that and stop interfering in my life.”

The hell with you, Ronan!
“Because you think some kid, some dumbass American, can replace me?!”

Don’t take the bait, Ronan, don’t let him goad you on like this.
“I looked into your eyes yesterday. I looked into the very essence of who you are and I didn’t turn away. Doesn’t that prove that I still care about you?”

“Oh, and you think I should thank you for that?”

Suddenly, Ronan was tired. Tired of this conversation, tired of the endless battle, and tired of Nakano.
“No, but it would be nice if you could just be happy for me.” Now Ronan looked at Nakano with pity and disgust. “But I guess that’s too much to ask from your kind.”

Just as Ronan was about to turn the corner of St. Martha’s and be out of his view, Nakano couldn’t suppress the desire to have the final say. “When you tell Michael what you really are, let me know if he hopes you’re happy!”

Those words were echoing in Ronan’s ears when he knocked on Michael’s door. Even though he knew he wasn’t going to reveal his true self to Michael—he wasn’t going to expose every secret—he was still nervous. He was going to try to explain that Nakano meant nothing to him and that, well, he thought, and maybe he completely made it all up in his head, but he thought that Michael had wanted to get to know him better too. He thought that the two of them could just spend some time together to learn more about each other. When the door opened and it was Ciaran, Ronan was more than a little relieved.

“Is Michael home?”

“Well, hello to you too. Yes, Ronan, thank you, I’m fine,” Ciaran said sarcastically.

Ronan lowered his head, duly chastised.
Sometimes I just can’t win with this one,
he thought. “Sorry, how are you?”

“Does it even matter?” Ciaran opened the door wider as a means to invite Ronan into his room without actually
having to ask him to come in. It also enabled him to see that Michael was sitting on his bed going over some Latin homework.

“Michael.”

How could one simple word make him feel so good? Michael didn’t understand it, but when Ronan said his name, he got the same feeling he did the first time he heard him say it. Like he was hearing a new language, a word that up until now had been unknown, like Ronan was asking him so many important questions just by saying his name, in that one word, there was so much potential, so much possibility. And then Michael remembered what he had seen.

“Hi, Ronan,” Michael said in a flat tone, and then returned to his Latin homework. His eyes couldn’t even focus on the foreign words,
cruor, cruorem;
his head was swimming with thoughts about the boy who was standing in his doorway. He had so much he wanted to say to Ronan, he didn’t know how to begin, but he definitely wasn’t going to say anything in Ciaran’s presence. He couldn’t, but thanks to Ronan that obstacle was about to be removed.

“Ciaran,” Ronan said. “Could you please give us some time alone?”

Don’t be surprised, Ciaran; this is what you knew would happen. You knew Ronan would track Michael down like prey and you know that in five minutes Ronan will explain everything away, explain that Nakano is part of his past, ancient history, and he and Michael will begin their new life together while you get
to watch everything from the sidelines. Do you like watching Ronan live his life? Do you enjoy seeing him constantly move farther and farther away from where you’re standing? From where you’re stuck? You only have yourself to blame, Ciaran; you could’ve kept your mouth shut
. Unfortunately, Ciaran knew certain things about himself. The first was, he would spend his life trying to help Ronan in whatever way he could. And the second was, no matter what Ronan asked him to do, he would comply. “Of course,” Ciaran said. “Fritz said he needed some help with his chem lab.”