Brightly Burning Bridges by Ivy Wild
Past
“Miss Skyler,” a voice with a thick accent called to me from across the hallway. No one had ever called out to me before at school. I looked towards the other end of the corridor to see none other than Vartan Santos jogging toward me.
He transferred to the school a few weeks ago, apparently moving to the states from Brazil with his mother. Something like that might have been a big deal for other high schools, but the students at Kings Academy were sort of used to it. With all the foreign dignitaries that were in and out of D.C., a good deal of students from various countries appeared and disappeared throughout the semester.
But, no one could quite pinpoint why Vartan had moved here. He didn’t seem to have connections or status. But that didn’t stop him from quickly becoming the newest hot commodity. And for good reason. His tanned skin, dark hair and sharp features made him stunningly gorgeous, even at a distance. But up close, he had the most intense green eyes I’d seen in a while.
And if his good looks and suave attitude weren’t enough to put him in the rankings for a crown at King’s, his obvious attempts to dethrone Silas were. It shocked even me the first day I’d experienced it. I’d heard heated whispers throughout the school about an exchange between the two men during a class they had together, but I didn’t really think much of it.
Silas’ position, as far as I was concerned, was pretty much untouchable. I’d proven that to myself the more I’d tried to embarrass him. Sure, it worked for a while. But he eventually got wise to my game and must have started checking his answers. Classmates quickly forgot any embarrassing moments and he was still on top.
“Miss Skyler,” Vartan repeated and I looked up to see his clear green eyes staring down at me. I brushed a piece of my colorless hair away from my face out of habit. I didn’t say anything, but I looked at him so he knew I was listening.
“I heard you are very close with Silas. Is that true?”
I furrowed my brow a bit, not really understanding why he would ask me something like that—or care.
“Um, I wouldn’t say that we’re close,” I replied back in a small voice. I didn’t know what we were, to be honest. That’s the funny thing about hating someone. They take up so much of your headspace that you find yourself thinking about them all the time. I paid attention to Silas more than I paid attention to anyone or anything that I liked. And I was pretty sure it was the same for him. Where that left us, I had no clue.
“It’s just that I did not see him in school these past days and thought maybe I scared him off?” His English was slightly broken and he phrased it as a question, prompting my response.
“Sorry,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“So then he is not your boyfriend?”
I could feel the blush creep up on my cheeks and I suddenly became aware of the number of people passing by in the hallway, listening in on our conversation. I shook my head, hugging the textbook I was holding to my chest and looked down at my feet. A strong finger lifted my chin back up and I gasped as I met Vartan’s gaze.
“Maybe you and me then sometime?”
I felt like I’d swallowed a ball of glue. Was Vartan Santos really asking me out? I hated that my mind immediately jumped to the thought that he was just trying to use me to get to Silas.
“Maybe,” I said softly and his green eyes sparkled as he pressed his thumb to my lips.
“I look forward to it, Miss Skyler.” He left, leaving me alone in the hallway amidst the hushed whispers and intense stares of my classmates. I wanted to melt into the floor right then and just disappear. Why did my entire existence seem to be wrapped up in Silas? Even when someone was asking me out, they first inquired about him. It irritated me. I’m pretty sure that’s what I was feeling.
When I’d finally gathered my wits, I continued my way outside to catch the bus home. We were halfway through the Spring semester and according to my calculations, the papers currently stashed in my bag marked the last homework assignment I needed to do for Silas to pay off the vase. Our teachers had gone a little paper crazy at the end of Fall semester and as a result, I’d managed to finish the highly illegal arrangement I had with Silas early.
I tried to put Vartan out of my mind. I didn’t want anything ruining this. I’d prepared a lovely “Screw You” note to attach to this last homework assignment along with a copy of my tally sheet and was just about giddy about putting it under the doormat on my way home.
The bus didn’t turn into our neighborhood, so even when I caught it, I still had a solid ten minute walk to the Touper house, which was toward the back of the community. I thought about what Vartan had said. He was right, I hadn’t seen Silas in quite a few days. I tried to remember if it had been a full week, but we didn’t have as many classes together this semester.
That wasn’t a bad thing. The tension between us had increased to the point where it felt uncomfortable being in the same room with one another. Of course I’d finally admitted all this to mom. She’d looked at me with knowing eyes and said “The fiercer the hate, the deeper the love.”
I didn’t know what that meant and I didn’t want to find out. Silas’ house finally came into view. It was a weekday, so it was as quiet and dead as ever. I made my daily trip up the grandiose front steps and peeled back the doormat to deposit what I thought would finally free me from him. Even if he was home and even when King barked at me, he never approached the door.
Of course this time he was there. Almost as if he’d been waiting for me. The door swung open as I was about to let go of the pages. I looked up instinctively.
And my heart sank.
He looked emaciated. The luster in his golden locks was gone. His cheeks were sunken and stained slightly red to match his eyes. I’d never seen Silas in sweatpants and a tee before, and to make matters worse, these were wrinkled and looked like they hadn’t been washed in a week.
I stood back up, dropping the homework and my backpack down and ran toward him. I don’t know why I did it. He didn’t deserve it. But I knew he needed it. Something had happened and him opening the door was his cry for help.
I wrapped my arms around him and he all but collapsed into me. Whatever thin dam he’d managed to construct broke and he started to sob into my shoulder.
There was only one thing that could make Silas cry and my heart broke.
“I’m so sorry, Si,” I said softly as he continued to break into me.
I didn’t know how long we stood there, with me holding him. It could have been ten minutes. It could have been an hour. But finally, his tears subsided and he separated from me just the smallest amount so we could look at one another.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered and I nodded my head.
“I’m staying right here,” I said, breaking every single rule I’d made for myself regarding Silas.
He seemed so numb to the world and everything that was happening. I grabbed my bag, stuffing the homework pages into it, trying to crumble the note that seemed incredibly heartless of me to write now, before reaching out for his hand and pulling him inside the house.
It felt like a lifetime since I’d been inside Silas’ mansion and being back was oddly reminiscent. It reminded me that there was a time before him and I were enemies. A time that maybe I might even have considered us friends.
I dropped my bag at the door and decided the easiest thing to do would be to just hang out downstairs. Going to his mother’s library would probably not have been healthy for Silas at the moment. We made our way through the house, Silas quiet and somber the entire time, until we reached the main TV den.
He crashed into the sofa and just stared at the blank television. I grabbed the remote, opened up the Netflix app and proceeded to watch almost an entire season of the Great British Baking Show curled up on the couch next to him. Silas fell asleep around the episode where Deborah stole Howard’s custard and I let him rest for a bit as I paused the show.
My thoughts drifted in the silence. The mansion was eerily quiet and it was clear that his father was once again, not home. King was curled up on one of the many plush dog beds strategically placed throughout the house and had remained quiet the entire time. King was one hundred percent Silas’ dog and it was clear he was picking up on Silas’ depressed mood.
I noticed that there were no flowers, cards or Edible Arrangements in the house on our walk through the kitchen to get to the den. It seemed entirely odd and contrary to everything I’d seen during times when families lost loved ones.
Death and funerals were decisive points in my and mom’s timeline, so even at seventeen, I’d seen more than my fair share of grief. But usually, these times were accompanied with family rallying around, and sending flowers and food if they couldn’t be there themselves.
No one was here for Silas.
Not even his own father.
I didn’t need him to tell me his mother had passed to know. But that didn’t mean at the right time I didn’t want him to tell me. I knew he needed to admit his new reality to himself, but I also understood that right now, he likely couldn’t bring himself to process it.
I’d seen grief take this sort of form before. Between this and the sort where you broke down and sobbed and let the emotions burst out of you, this was much worse. Sometimes people didn’t get over the numbness that crept into their souls after the loss of someone entirely dear to them. It was as if their world ended the day they died and they refused to move on from that moment.
I didn’t want that for Silas.
Despite everything him and I had been through, for better and most certainly for worse, I didn’t want to see him get stuck. From what he’d told me about his mother, I knew she wouldn’t want that for him, either.
I worried about how many days it had already been since she’d passed. Had there already been a ceremony? My heart twisted in my chest at the thought that I wasn’t here for him during this time. If we hadn’t started this stupid Cold War, I would have known. I could have been here.
Silas stirred on my shoulder, waking up slowly. I unpaused the show and acted like I hadn’t noticed he’d fallen asleep. He blinked his eyes at me, as if he was surprised he’d drifted off and I turned and frowned at him.
“When’s the last time you’ve eaten something?” His cheeks looked so sunken in and I didn’t know if it was from a lack of sleep, lack of water or lack of food. Most likely, all three.
He gave me the smallest of shrugs. “Dunno,” he replied, his voice hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in a while.
“Think you could stomach something?” I asked. “I’m starving,” I added to provide an extra layer of encouragement.
“I’ll try,” he said softly, closing his eyes and laying his head back against the sofa cushion.
I let him rest again and made my way into the sprawling kitchen. King padded behind me and I took a moment to refill his water and food bowls. If Silas wasn’t taking care of himself, the obvious truth was that he likely wasn’t taking care of King, either. I made a mental note to take King for a walk before I began to concentrate on our own food.
I searched through the cupboards and located ingredients sufficient to make two very sad peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I brought them back into the den along with two glasses of filtered water and placed them on the coffee table in front of us.
Silas cracked an eye open at me as I sat down next to him before pushing himself up to sit a little straighter. It was a good sign.
“Thanks,” he mumbled as he reached first for the water and then the sandwich. We ate our rather plebian meal to the background of exorbitant baking. Silas ate slowly, but finished everything and when the episode ended, he grabbed the remote and flipped off the television.
“Why are you helping me?” he asked. I could hear the uncertainty in his voice and it broke my heart.
“Do I need a reason?”
He was silent for another beat before he wrapped an arm around me. “I’ve been wretched to you.”
“We’ve been wretched to each other.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I started it.”
If this were any other time, I would have said “true” and tried to rub it in. But now was not the time for such things.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
He took a deep breath and I felt his shoulders move up and down slightly. Another shrug.
“Can you tell me how long it’s been?”
“Monday,” was all he responded. My heart sank. It was Friday. He’d likely been here in this empty mansion for the entire week, grieving the loss of his mother by himself.
“Was there a service?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“And your father?”
“Disappeared Tuesday.”
I pulled Silas into another embrace and felt him break into my shoulder again. I knew just the mere act of talking about the loss of his mother was difficult and his whole body shuddered against mine as he processed the emotions he’d pushed down the entire week.
When he finally pulled back, I gave him a small smile. “I’m going to let King outside, but I think you should get some rest, Si,” I said in a gentle voice.
He shook his head. “Please don’t leave me alone here.” His voice was so soft and he looked down as he said it. My heart broke for him again, shattering into finer and finer bits like a crystal vase hitting porcelain tile.
