There should be no hope for me or her, but I haven’t accepted my reality yet. I just can’t.
I glare at the door to Marc Duval’s Manhattan office. Baylee is on the other side, and it’s not like I had much of a choice in who went first. I would’ve taken her place.
Truth: I’d do anything to lift the consequence off Baylee. She doesn’t deserve to be fired. This circus—it means so fucking much to her. Infini, especially. It’s more than a job for Bay.
It tears at my insides knowing that I’m responsible for hurting her…in an insurmountable, unthinkable way.
And if I start focusing on what she means to me—I’ll really puke.
(They won’t split us apart. They can’t.) I feel how na?ve I am. I feel young.
I feel fifteen for, maybe, the first time in a really long while. I’ve been independent most of my life. Able to take care of myself and make my own money. It’s what my mom and dad wanted. I’ve never felt like I needed a parent. Not until this moment. Not until right now.
Isn’t that what parents do? Make things right. Help carry the burden. Lift the weight.
I sniff and rub my nose, suppressing more emotion.
The door opens, and I immediately stand. My body thrums, nerves and dread compounding, and I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff, grabbing for her hand, but she slips through my fingers.
And I watch her fall.
Really, I can’t see Bay. Not yet. A young black woman purposefully shields the fourteen-year-old girl from my sight. Hourglass frame and fashion-forward clothes—I instantly recognize her as Baylee’s Aunt Lucy.
But I just want to see Bay—to make sure she’s alright.
Nikolai and Dimitri are on their feet in front of me, purposefully blocking my view. (Come on.) I try to sidestep, but Nik clamps a hand on my shoulder.
“Stop,” he warns.
Stop. I freeze, but my eyes dance past him. I try to peer through the gap between his arm and Dimitri’s.
Lucy hugs Bay tightly to her side, and all I can see is Baylee’s loose brown curls. Through the small gap, Lucy finds a way to glare at me.
I’m stunned cold.
Since I met Lucy she’s always liked me. Always.
The changes crash against my chest, my world shifting up and down and sideways. All off-kilter.
(I’m not okay.)
“Nikolai,” Lucy greets, her voice unusually stone.
“Lucy.” Nik nods back.
Baylee’s legal guardian.
My legal guardian.
It doesn’t faze me that our parents aren’t here. Hers would be if they could.
Mine are traveling in some foreign country for a touring show. I can’t even remember what continent they’re on right now.
Baylee and her aunt walk hurriedly past, and I want to call Bay back. To shout her name, but my throat swells closed. I hear the door shut.
They’re gone.
I didn’t even see her.
I barely hear Marc call for us. Dazed, my brother or my cousin puts their hand on my shoulder and physically pushes me towards the office. Each step is involuntary. I’m on automatic.
Programmed to move.
Once inside, Marc shuts the door, and I sit on a chair between Nik and Dimitri, all of us facing Marc’s oak desk. My gaze glues to his Aerial Ethereal mug, blue lettering with purple swirls.
As soon as Marc’s ass hits the seat, he gestures to me.
My face scorches and aches like someone’s taken a frying pan and whacked me several times. I open my mouth, struggling for a second, but then I find words.
“I take full responsibility for what happened,” I say. “Baylee had nothing to do with it.” I’m about to say that I forced her to have sex. A lie, but I’d do that. I’d literally do anything to protect her right now. “She—”
Marc raises his hand, silencing me.
(I’m going to puke.)
Nikolai glares at me like, don’t retch on his fucking carpet.
I swallow acid.
Marc looks older than his early fifties. Shaggy blond hair, sideburns graying, and his dark blue eyes wield only criticisms. I’ve now met the face of all the dull corporate emails.
“The sentiment is chivalrous,” he tells me, “but it takes two people to have intercourse.”
Intercourse? I frown and try not to shake my head. It bugs me. That clinical term.
“And Baylee already explained that it was consensual.” Marc holds onto a manila folder. “Before I pass over a termination contract, we need to talk.”
Termination.
I can’t look at Nik, but he’s stone-cold beside me. Rigid and unbendable. Maybe he’s trying to be a rock for me. Something I can hang onto as I fall.
I remember what Nik said to do. So I start to say, “I’m sorry—”
“Apologies won’t fix this.”
I sit straighter, back aching.
Marc sets down the folder. “Do you know why Aerial Ethereal has a rule about minors not dating or having sexual relations with other company members?” He phrases this like a quiz I’m supposed to fail.
I open my mouth to answer.
He interrupts, “You don’t know or else you would have followed it. At least, that’s the hope. Because if you knew the importance of this rule and you still knowingly broke it, then I don’t just have an ignorant kid on my hands. I have a reckless teenager with zero respect for this company.”
I’ve never felt this incapable of speech. Of being. Existing. I feel weak. And powerless. I hang my head, unable to look him in the eyes. Slowly but surely cowering to Corporate.
“Which one is it, Luka?” Marc asks. Testing me.
My gaze sears the longer I stare fixatedly at his mug. What am I supposed to say? What’s right? What’s wrong? (Someone tell me. Please. Tell me.) What do I need to do? I’ll do it.
I’ll do anything.
(Just don’t take my family away from me. Don’t take my sister. My brothers. Don’t take her. I need them all.) I turn my head to look for help. For a parent. Nik.
Reading my expression, he immediately speaks up. “Luka respects the company—”
Marc holds up another hand. “I didn’t ask you, Nikolai. I’d like to hear from your brother.” The heat of his gaze boils my skin. “Luka?”
“I…” I lick my dry lips. “I didn’t…I didn’t know.” My Adidas shirt suctions to my abs, sweating through the black fabric.
Nik clears his throat and leans forward. “I should’ve explained its importance. I’ll take some responsibility for this.”
He will?
Marc taps his pen to the desk. “So you didn’t know about his relationship with Baylee Wright?”
“No. I thought they were just best friends. Had I known it went beyond that, I would’ve put an end to it from the start.”
My brother isn’t railroading me, but I wish there could be a scenario where he would’ve been on my side. Hearing him now just cements all the reasons why we kept our relationship secret in the first place.
No one could know. It’d leak to Corporate, and we’d become the forty-ninth and fiftieth minors to be fired for going “beyond” a friendship.
I guess we are 49 and 50 now.
Marc looks to Dimitri. “And you? Did you know?”
My cousin shakes his head.
Once more, Marc’s attention bears down on me, and I thread my fingers, cupping my hands together. Trying to remain as calm as I usually am.
“I’ll tell you what I told Baylee,” Marc says. “Aerial Ethereal has many rules, but for minors this is the most important one. It’s why we’ve never failed to terminate a minor after the violation.” He rolls his chair forward, arms splayed on the desk. “We employ children, and these children, like yourself—”
I try not to flinch, but he makes me feel five years old. Not fifteen. I don’t like feeling this small. Or this drastic loss of control.
I have to take a breath. I listen. I try to breathe.
“—well, these children will work for us throughout their precious adolescence. Our job is to maintain the safest work environment for minors. Safe does not include sexual intercourse. Safe does not include workplace relationships that can lead to sexual intercourse.”
I wish he would stop saying “sexual intercourse” like it’s a disease—please God.