Guilty 2

The phone ringing at 7:38am was not exactly Zac's idea of a Sunday morning sleep-in. Since the phone-table was right outside his room, he got the job of answering any late-night/early-morning calls. The one disadvantage of having his own room in this new house; he couldn't pretend to stay asleep and let Ike or Tay answer it.
Grumbling, he tried to get out of bed; all he achieved was to fall hard on the floor, his limbs tangled in the blankets.
"Dammit!" sparing enough time to pull a rumpled grey T-shirt over his head – not caring that it was back-to-front – he crawled out of the jumble of blankets, pushed open his door and grabbed the receiver from the cradle.
"Yeah?" his voice, halfway through the process of breaking, was thick with sleep.
"Can I speak to Zac please?"
"Speaking,"
"Zac?"
"Yep, who's this?" he couldn't make out the voice on the other end of the line, all he could tell was they were crying.
"It's Angevin,"
"Vinn? Vinn, what's wrong?"
"Can I come over please?" she sounded desperate.
"Jeez Vinn, it's seven-thirty in the morning!"
"Please?!"
"Why?"
"I don't wanna be here when he gets back!"
"When who gets back?"
"Please Zac?!?" tired, Zac ran a hand through the blond hair falling in his eyes and gave in.
"Alright. Just come around the back okay? I'll meet you out there,"
"Thank-you! Thank-you so much!"
"Yeah, no problem," he even managed a half-smile; a weak attempt at sounding convincing.
"Thank-you Zac," and she hung up.
Slowly returning the phone to it's holder, Zac sagged against the wall and closed his eyes. Great! Just great! How on earth was he going to explain Angevin in their backyard at 8am? He knew neither his parents nor his brothers approved of his friends. Not that they said anything, but he'd always been perceptive. All his friends were too manically depressive, too cold, too dark. Too freakish. His Mom and Dad thought they were a 'bad influence on him', Ike and Tay just plain didn't like them, and his younger siblings were too young to care.
He'd just have to make sure that whatever Angevin wanted, that she got it over with quickly and was gone before anybody else got up.

Rummaging through his drawers, Zac searched for the darkest clothes he had. Vinn dressed totally in black, and she couldn't understand why everyone else didn't. Of course, the day he needed a dark shirt, his drawers were filled with the white ones he'd needed the week before!
'Ah-hah! Finally, a black shir– what the hell?!?'. What was a skin-tight black T-shirt doing in his drawer? Why did Tay's stuff always end up in his room?! Cringing, he shoved the innocent shirt under his bed to be forgotten about until further notice. Suddenly not caring anymore, he just grabbed a camouflage shirt and a pair of jeans. They'd do.

Angevin sat on the back verandah, plucking at imaginary specks of dirt on her long black skirt. Her favourite black cloak had earned her the stares of all the early morning joggers and people-walking-their-dogs. The reason she loved this cloak so much was because she could hide in it. The dark folds hid her body, the draping hood her face. All she needed was a scythe, and anybody looking at her for the first time probably would have mistaken her for the Grim Reaper.
She heard the door open behind her; she didn't turn around.
"Vinn?" the black hood that covered her head moved up and down as she nodded. "Vinn?"
"Yes?"
"I . . . what's wrong?"
"Is there anywhere we can be alone?" her voice was soft, but robbed of all emotion.
"Um, yeah," she stood up, still refusing to turn and look at him.
"Well?" shrugging, he started towards the tree-house.

It'd amazed Zac how quickly they'd been able to reassemble the tree-house after it'd been taken down from their old house. One grounding point in his world of absolute insanity. He'd started up the ladder when Vinn grabbed him by the back of his shirt.
"Do we have to go up there?"
"Well, it's kinda more –"
"Can we please stay down here?"
"I . . . um, I guess," dropping to the ground, he nonchalantly sat down in the leaves. Angevin took a little more interest in preserving her dignity and rested against the ladder.
"What's up Vinn? What's so wrong that you had to call me at seven-thirty in the morning?" Zac said without thinking, then immediately wished he hadn't.
"I knew you wouldn't understand,"
"I'm sorry Vinn, I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I –"
"Then why did you say it?"
"I . . . well, why did you call me so early?" his tone was much more neutral this time.
"I had to get away," a tiny flicker of emotion, fear, broke through the bleakness.
"Away from what?"
"Him,"
"Who?" the hooded face turned to look down at him; he couldn't see her face, it was still in shadow. Could she trust him? She had to tell somebody what was happening to her, now that Div was gone – she closed her eyes for a second. Gods it hurt so much! – and Zac was the only person she had left that even resembled a friend. Div would have understood. He hadn't minded the phone calls at 7:30am because he'd understood. He hadn't complained or turned cynical because he'd understood. Div, who'd known what she was going through. Because the same thing had been happening to him. The same thing had taken him to his grave at 14. What would that same thing end up doing to her?
"Vinn?" she looked deep into his brown eyes, searching. At 13, he was still half-child. Half of him still saw a world of daisies through rose-coloured glasses. But it was the other half that surprised Angevin. The half that was adolescent, fast approaching adult. The half that was blacker that hell and colder than ice. A pain existed there, more powerful than she'd have believed. The pain of expectation and indecision. The pain of knowing one wrong step could bring his world crashing down around him.
"Angevin?"
"Coeur,"
"Coeur?" her brother? What did her brother have to do with any of this?
"Yes Coeur, I had to get away. I couldn't be there when he got back. I –" she halted her traitorous tongue before it could divulge anything more.
"Why?" if Zac didn't know any better, he would have thought Vinn was afraid of her brother. But that was ridiculous! Coeur was the model of perfection. He was captain of nearly every club in his high-school, already had an executive position in his father's electronics company. In everybody's eyes, he could do no wrong!
Angevin saw what she'd been fearing more than anything, scepticism. He didn't believe her. Gods, did Coeur have the entire world under his spell of illusion?! Everybody thought he was so brilliant, the perfect role model for children and adults alike. What a joke! And that cruel joke was on her.
"Vinn? Why would you have to run from Coeur?" the sceptic tone hadn't left his eyes. Dammit why did everyone immediately side with Coeur?! Did anybody know what a bastard he was?! Was she the only person who knew the real Coeur; that underneath the glossy layers of perfection lay the heart and soul of a monster?!? Would anybody else except Div ever know?! Div. . . .
"You wanna know why I ran from Coeur?!?" the sarcasm and rage in her voice nearly knocked Zac over; mutely he nodded. Vinn hid behind a stone wall of blank emotionlessness; she never let anything out. He'd never seen her angry. God, this must be something bad!
Furious, she yanked the protective black hood from her head. The shadows fled from her face; Zac gasped and had a hard time trying not to be sick.
"Vinn?" choking on the rasped words, he stood and stared.
Both her eyes were black, one swollen completely shut.
Blood dripped from her nose and the side of her cracked lips.
Her cheeks were mottled with ripe purple bruises.
"This is what he does to me Zac," impotent anger had given way to hopeless tears, "Almost every day,"
"God Vinn, I. . . ." too shocked for words, he gave way to instinct. Gently wrapping his arms around her, he held her as she cried her anguish.


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