Page 35 of Outcast’s Return

“There,” I say, pulling the towel back. “That should feel better. You could sleep now, and so might I.”

Fabien pauses for the briefest of moments as if to say something...

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even thank me. He grunts, rolls back into bed and promptly falls into a deep sleep.

My little chortle seems a long time ago now. There’s still a long way to go before we are even civil with each other.

11

JOLIE

My night, next to him, is full of memories.

I remember the first time I saw him.

A brush in a hallway. A look between us. My brother watching. No words spoken.

I remember every second of it, even though it was an entire lifetime ago. My dreams echo the past.

Clement had told me all about him, building him up like he was the second coming. He’d raved about his best friend who was going to stay over for the summer vacation.

He also told me not to speak to him.

My friend. Not yours.

Clement has always been possessive, but especially possessive of me. I’ve come to learn that’s merely his way of loving. He couldn’t understand why Fabien Cote and his younger sister would ever interact, let alone like each other.

It might have been a mere moment in the hallway, but that moment seemed to stretch for an eternity. And, afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking of that strange boy with the dark eyes.

And then Fabien’s parents were murdered. Father told me one morning. He dove into the meaning of it all and what it meant for his position in the Order, while I sat there thinking about Fabien and how he must’ve been feeling.

The Supreme Elder of the Castaways was gone, and then there was a power struggle to replace him. Father failed in his maneuvering. Elwood Levine came out on top. But I didn’t care about the politics of old men, even at that age.

All I cared about was the poor boy I brushed past in the hallway that one time. The boy who had lost both his parents. A boy who probably and desperately needed someone.

I remember what Father said about Fabien then...

A young orphan.

His parents were important, but he wasn’t. To the world, Fabien was just a boy.

And then Father told me what was going to happen next... that the orphan was going to live at our mansion in the summers. It became the only thing I could think about. I was filled with anticipation, worry, hope, and guilt. It was way too much for my young heart to handle.

So much was constructed around him and what had happened, but when I finally saw him again, I noticed he was simply sad. He was grieving, even though he never cried. That was something my father and brother never said about Fabien. They spoke about him in such a cold way, and yet I wanted to bring him into warmth. I wanted to reach out to him and let him know he wasn’t alone, to look after this sad boy who was rightfully raging at the world.

That’s why I followed him that night into Father’s office. I saw those smiling people on the screen. I saw how he longed for them. I could see how he was trying to be so brave when he was actually falling apart.

And so, I impulsively pecked him on the cheek.

And I ran back to bed before my innermost thoughts escaped me.

And all summer long I couldn’t stop thinking about that boy sitting alone in the dark.

He was unexpectedly kind to me. He listened to me. He was unlike other boys I had met. He was quiet and stoic and determined, but he slowly opened up to me. I became one of the rare places he could soften.

He never smiled after his parents’ death, not in a genuine way, not even with Clement and Baptiste, but he did so with me. I knew my brother didn’t even want us in the same room, but I couldn’t help myself. Curiosity about this quiet, rage-fueled, ambitious boy drove me toward him like a moth to a flame.

We should’ve remembered Clement’s warning.