Chapter 6

Ella.

By dinner time, most of the boxes were unpacked. The house looked different. Elena's throw pillows on the couch, bright colors that clashed with Mom's old furniture. Her photos on the mantle, smiling strangers in silver frames. Kyle's jacket on the hook by the door.

Our home wasn't ours anymore.

Dad ordered Chinese food. We ate at the table, all four of us crammed together. Elena kept up cheerful conversation about work and weekend plans. She talked about her job at the bank, about her coworkers, about some funny customer who'd come in last week.

Dad responded with equal enthusiasm. Told his own work stories. Laughed too loud at Elena's jokes.

Kyle and I said almost nothing.

Every time our eyes met across the table, the bond flared. I felt heat crawl up my neck. Saw his pupils dilate. We'd look away fast, but it didn't help.

The awareness stayed. Constant. Overwhelming.

"You two are quiet," Elena observed, serving herself more rice. "Everything okay?"

"Tired," Kyle said.

"Long day," I added.

Dad laughed. "Moving is exhausting. We should all get to bed early. Big day tomorrow. Family breakfast, then we can explore the neighborhood together."

My stomach twisted. Family breakfast. Like we were actually a normal family.

Elena started talking about a farmers market she wanted to visit. Dad agreed immediately. They made plans like this was normal, like everything was perfect.

Under the table, my phone buzzed. Text from Jade: "Haven't heard from you all day. You okay?"

I typed back quickly: "Moving day. Talk tomorrow."

After dinner, I escaped to my room. Closed the door and leaned against it, finally alone.

Except I wasn't alone. I could feel Kyle through the wall. His presence pressed against my awareness like a physical weight.

I tried to do homework. Math problems that might as well have been written in another language. I read the same equation five times and understood nothing.

Gave up. Tried to read instead. Opened the book on my nightstand, some romance novel Jade had lent me. The words blurred together.

Tried to sleep.

That was worst of all.

Lying in bed, in the dark, I felt everything. His restlessness. His frustration. The way the bond pulled toward him even though he was right there, so close but completely untouchable.

I stared at the ceiling. Counted the glow-in-the-dark stars I'd stuck up there in middle school. Tried breathing exercises I'd learned for debate competitions.

Nothing worked.

My clock said midnight. Then one. Then two.

I heard him get up. Heard footsteps in his room, pacing back and forth. The floorboards creaked with each step. Four steps one way. Turn. Four steps back.

He couldn't sleep either.

The bond ached. Not physical pain exactly, but close. Like something inside me was reaching toward him, trying to close the distance.

I got out of bed and pressed my hand against the wall. Cold paint under my palm. I knew, somehow just knew, exactly where he was on the other side.

The pacing stopped.

Silence stretched out. I held my breath, hand flat against the wall.

Then I felt pressure on the other side. Like he was pressing his hand against the same spot. Mirror images separated by drywall and impossible circumstances.

The bond sang between us. Recognition. Connection. Want.

We stood like that for seconds that felt like hours. Neither of us moving. Neither of us speaking. Just existing in the same space, as close as we could get without actually touching.

I wondered if he felt what I felt. This desperate need to be closer. This ache that had nothing to do with logic or reason.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I jumped, yanking my hand away from the wall.

Text from Jason: "Can't sleep either. The secondary bond is restless tonight. You okay?"

I stared at the message. Jason felt it too. Even miles away, he was connected to whatever this was.

I typed back: "Kyle moved in today."

Three dots appeared immediately. Then: "That must be hard."

"You have no idea."

"Actually, I might. The bond doesn't like you two being that close without resolution. It's probably screaming at both of you."

He was right. The bond was screaming. Had been screaming since Kyle walked through the front door this morning.

"What am I supposed to do?" I typed.

"Survive four weeks. Then choose."

Four weeks suddenly felt impossible. How was I supposed to live like this? Kyle through the wall, close enough to touch but forbidden. Jason texting me in the middle of the night, connected through a bond I barely understood.

I set my phone down and pressed my hand against the wall again.

Kyle was still there. I felt him. Felt his hand on the other side, matching mine.

The wall was thin. I could probably punch through it if I tried. But it might as well have been made of steel for all the good it did us.

We stayed like that until my arm went numb. Until sleep finally dragged me under, still sitting against the wall.

When I woke up, sunlight streamed through my window. My neck ached from the awkward position. My hand was still pressed against the wall.

From the other side, I heard Kyle's door open. Heard him walk down the hall toward the bathroom.

The bathroom we shared now.

I checked the time. Six forty-five. Fifteen minutes until my scheduled slot.

I waited until I heard the shower turn off. Heard him brush his teeth. Heard the bathroom door open and his footsteps retreat to his room.

Then I went in.

The mirror was still fogged from his shower. His scent filled the small space, overwhelming and perfect. The bond pulsed with satisfaction just from being where he'd been.

I looked at myself in the foggy mirror. Dark circles under my eyes. Hair a mess. I looked like I felt. Exhausted. Confused. Terrified.

On the counter, his toothbrush sat next to the soap. Dark blue. Electric. Right next to my pink manual one.

The sight of them together made something twist in my chest. Domestic. Familiar. Like we actually lived together. Like we were actually family.

We weren't family. We were mates. And living together was going to destroy us both.

I brushed my teeth fast, showered faster, and got out before I could think too hard about the fact that he'd been standing in this exact spot twenty minutes ago.

Downstairs, Elena was making pancakes. Dad sat at the table reading the newspaper. Kyle was nowhere to be seen.

"Morning, sweetie!" Dad looked up with a smile. "Sleep okay?"

"Great," I lied.

"Kyle already ate. He's in his room doing homework." Elena flipped a pancake. "That boy works too hard. I keep telling him to take breaks."

If only she knew what he was really stressed about.

I ate breakfast quickly, making small talk with Elena and Dad about nothing important. The whole time, I felt Kyle upstairs. Felt the bond stretch between us.

This was day one. Day one of four weeks.

I had no idea how I was going to survive this.