Found this in my email drafts
Adam was trying to be an adult about this.
Was he though? Did being an adult mean that as long as his sister was happy, he would be better off keeping his mouth shut? As far as he could tell, she was happy. Well, happier. As happy as one can be surviving on a non-consecutive four hours of sleep a night. But that wasn’t related to the situation at hand--directly. Maybe being an adult meant telling his sister she was being an idiot. She was. She was being a massive idiot. He wanted so badly to say something, but right now, she was doing a lot better than she had been. That was enough, wasn't it?
Maybe he was being selfish. At least when Kaitlynn was miserable, she was within reach. At least when she spent all of her time at home he didn’t have to worry that she was off somewhere getting herself kidnapped or murdered. Now that Tristan was here, she either spent her time at work, at school, or with him, and Adam couldn’t help the pang of panic every time she took longer than a minute to respond to his texts. His anxiety needed her within twenty feet of him at all times. It didn’t help that she passed the time in the presence of the exact reason Adam was concerned that she was out getting herself kidnapped or murdered. Sure, she was in a better mood lately, but he couldn’t help but think that she must have been better off before. He couldn’t help the nagging thought in the back of his head telling him that she was making dangerous choices with her life.
He should say something.
No. He dragged his tongue across his top teeth and swished his coffee around in its cup. If he wanted to say something, he should have said it by now. It’d been eight and a half months since Tristan first showed up, and Adam was sure that his opportunity to dissent had passed. The statute of limitation was up. Besides, this didn't bother him at first, did it? No. So he wouldn’t say anything. He was being selfish.
Why did it have to be him though?
Adam peered at his sister across the small café table. The sight of her grinning at her phone made his stomach churn. She chuckled and looked up at him, turning her phone around so he could see it. “He’s like an alien. He’s so bad at texting. Look at what autocorrect did.”
“Don’t do this.”
Kaitlynn’s faltered, her grin slipping away from the corners of her mouth. “What?”
“Don’t show me that. I don’t want to see it.”
Kaitlynn frowned, tucking her phone back into the pocket of her coat. “What crawled up your ass?” She moved to take a sip of her coffee and made a face. It was cold already.
Adam ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back against his head, and let out a sigh. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Kaitlynn stared at him skeptically. He dropped his gaze to the table, telling himself repeatedly in his head to keep his mouth shut. He needed to leave well enough alone. This wasn’t his business. It was her life, wasn’t it?
But Sky was his friend too.
“I just…” He pressed his lips tight together and shook his head. He glanced up to find her still watching him, brows knitted in confusion. There was a hint of growing impatience in her eyes. He frowned.
Oh, hell.
“I just don’t know how you can just…do this. I don’t know how you can forget what he’s done.”
“Adam.”
“I mean, I don’t know about you, but every time I look at him, I remember that Sky is dead, and it’s his fault.” His fingers tightened around the mug in his hand as he stared blankly into it, avoiding Kaitlynn’s eyes. “I see him, and I think, gee, this is the guy that killed my best friend. This is the guy who almost killed my sister.” He could hear her take a breath as if to protest. “Oh, right. But he didn’t, so I guess that makes this okay? He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Okay. Let’s just also forget how you were kidnapped because of him.”
“What do you want me to say, Adam?” There was something foreign in her tone and somehow it made him angrier. Everything that had been eating away at him for the past few months was coming to the surface.
“I want you to tell me why the fuck you think this is okay,” he hissed, glancing around to assure no one was listening. Kaitlynn leaned back in her chair, eyes lowered, but she didn’t say anything. “Right.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Adam swished his coffee again. Kaitlynn flinched as she felt her phone buzz in her coat pocket, but she didn’t reach for it. “It’s…complicated,” she managed.
“It’s complicated,” Adam repeated, almost mockingly. He let out a soft scoff, shook his head and got to his feet. He snatched his gloves from the table and pulled his coat on, heading for the door. Kaitlynn just watched him leave, stunned.
Moments later, Kaitlynn crashed out of the door and onto the sidewalk after him. “Where are you going?” she called after him. When he didn’t respond, she huffed, tugging on her own coat. “Adam Lee Winston, don’t you dare walk away from me!”
It took some effort-his legs were longer than hers-but she managed to catch up with him. She grabbed his sleeve only to have him rip his arm away from her. “Adam, talk to me!”
Adam whirled on his heels and stepped toward her. “Talk to you? I can’t even look at you right now.”
“Adam, please don’t do this.”
“How could you?” He demanded. “Sky is dead and you’re off gallivanting with his killer. You just forgave him.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t…not completely.”
“Well, you could have fooled me.” He rubbed his face with his hands before swinging his arms out at his sides. “Why aren’t you angry?” he snapped. “Why aren’t you of all people angry about this?”
“Being angry isn’t going to bring him back, Adam!” Her voice cracked, and he faltered, suddenly feeling like the air had been sucked away from his chest. He shut his eyes. "He's gone, Adam, and no amount of anger and bitterness is going to bring him back. You can be angry if you want, but I...I can't do that. It's not so black and white. It's just not. It's complicated, and I'm doing the best I can, okay? But you...you can be angry with me. You have that right." She reached out and put her hand on his bicep, and this time he didn't pull away. "But I don't want to be angry anymore. I can't be angry anymore. I just can't."
They both heard her phone buzz again, and Adam gently pulled back. Kaitlynn dropped her hand in defeat. "Well," he started, unsure. "I think...I think I want to be angry about it. I think I'm going to be."
"Good," she responded softly, and he didn't know why it surprised him to hear her say that. "You should. It's your turn." His turn. Like it was something they shared. Maybe it was. Kaitlynn had been angry as long as he could remember. About everything. It was who she was.
And who was he without it?
Adam watched wordlessly as she fished her phone out of her pocket, tapped out reply that couldn't have been more than a couple words, and slipped it back into her pocket. "I have to go," she told him, giving him an awkward shrug. "Therapy. You get it." And he did.
Maybe he should start going again. Maybe then he wouldn't get this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach every time she left him. This hot, searing rage every time he looked at Tristan. The soul-crushing hopelessness every time he saw her cry. He could stand to let her out of arms reach. She was an adult. Maybe then he wouldn't crack his eyes open in the middle of the night merely in anticipation of screams. He could finally sleep. He could cut back on all this damn coffee. Maybe then he wouldn't be so angry.
But then again, maybe he should be.
It was his turn.