THEY SAT IN SILENCE ON THE BUS. Santiago stared out the windows at the blur of lights as they bounded down the city streets. Well past curfew with the hum of insects and crunch of gravel underfoot they marched the rest of the way home.

He did not know what to say. Did not help that he was so drunk he had to focus on putting each foot in front of the other in order to stay upright.

Arms tightly crossed over her chest as if forming a barricade against further discussion. Shoulder slumped and the normally animated girl sat rigid in the seat beside him the entire ride.

When he tried to mention the incident with the kiss, a flash of discomfort flickered across the girls to which he decided it was better left alone. Discussing her own emotions was a territory she was unwilling to explore.

Her silence spoke louder than any words she could have uttered.

Maybe he misread things after all why would someone like her want anything to do with someone like him. Not even a few drinks could make Sylvia that foolish it seemed.

The door opened before they had made it up the porch steps.

Rosenia was no stranger to rebellious teens and the trouble they always seemed to find. Though Santiago had a way of surprising her. The two teens stared at the woman who stood there in her nightgown. With hair still dampened from their late-night swim the kids stared back at her.

Sylvia’s make-up was a melted mess.

Santiago’s eyes were still bloodshot.

He knew he was in for it. It was one thing for him to go off and get into a mess. Sylvia mixed up with his nonsense was a whole other story.

If anyone could find the end to the saintly patience of Rose it would be him.

Rosenia’s brows furrowed, “Where have you two been?”

Before Santiago could open his mouth the girl beside him doubled over and vomited onto the wooden deck.

The thick stench of bile and alcohol filled the air.

Rosenia’s eyes widened with shock looking from the girl to him for an answer.

“Fuck.”

----------------------------------------

Standing on the porch, the front door ajar, Santiago waited. Should he stay? Should he go? Honestly, he was so exhausted by this point that if she did not want him here, he was going to sleep in the woods. After what happened he expected an earful from Rosenia. She had quickly whisked Sylvia upstairs to look after her and had yet to return.

Mia appeared at the top of the stairs, ginger strands a tousled mess and eyes puffy from sleep.

Her fuzzy slippers slapped against the steps as she came down. “Is that—on second thought don’t answer that. Grab the hose. I’ll get something to scrub off the mat.”

Santiago waved the hose over the areas she scrubbed up with dish soap.

The girl grimaced at the pool of sick and scrubbed harder.

“Why you helping me with this?” He said.

“You don’t need a reason to help someone.” Mia said.

“I thought you hated me.”

Mia raised a brow, “Hate’s a strong word.”

“Well, you aren’t very friendly.”

“Well, who all am I very friendly with?”

Santiago stopped, “Fair point.”

“I thought you were a dick okay. You showed up late with a crap attitude the first day you came here.” She waved the scrubber pointedly, “Rose has always been good to me so—”

“Me being disrespectful rubbed you all the wrong ways.” He finished.

“Look. I know I’m not sugary sweet like our pink puke princess, but I’m not a wicked witch. At least, not all the time.” Mia said.

“I’m not a delinquent dickhead most of the time.”

She pulled off the latex gloves to drop in the bucket. “Good to know.”

While he seemed to mend one bridge, he had two more collapsing around him. He expected shouting or grounding or something. He would have preferred it to the silent treatment both women were giving him.

Rosenia was nowhere to be found.

Sylvia was not leaving her room.

His knuckles rapped against the door. He paused to listen. Nothing.

Santiago knew she was in there. She refused to come out.

“Sylvia, I get it, you don’t want to talk to me. That’s fine.” Santiago rested his forehead against the wood panel, “I am sorry. I keep screwing up with you and I know I’m always apologizing.”

Pressed his eyes shut tightly, “I mean it though. I promise this will be the last time. I’m not going to bother you anymore.”

He could take a hint. Whether anyone wanted to say it or not. He was not welcome here anymore. Santiago walked away with a bag slung over his shoulder as he made his way out of the house.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been off on his own. He doubted it would be the last.

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Santiago knew it was only a matter of time before they turned on him. A part of him had hoped things would be different with them. He had grown fond of the little group he had come to know during his time with Rosenia. Now, all but Skylar hated him.

By now Rose knew about their little investigation. He left the USB behind in his bedroom. At least if she would not speak to him, the least he could do is return it to her.

Rose was not a murder but Santiago was.

He killed those people whether he recalled it or not. That blood was on his hands.

Rose must have covered it up somehow. Protected him.

The thanks she got was him stealing from her.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Santiago did not know why he was this way. Or why he simply could not have sat down with the woman and talked about it. He did not know why he punched Khalil for something so trivial. He did not know how he could have misread the entire situation with Sylvia.

There was a lot he did not know.

He did not have the answers and the people that were supposed to be there to ask were dead.

“We all have things to learn. Unfortunately most of the wisdom we garner in life comes as a result of our mistakes.” Thompson said. “Our basic instinct in response to stress is fight or flight. Now that looks different for everyone. In your case your natural response is to fight and when you can’t fight you run. Which is why we're here now.”

Where they were now and Santiago sincerely doubted he was going to be able to progress much farther. This entire therapy saga has been the equivalent of walking up a down escalator.

“Handling conflict is a skill, I know. I pay attention, I just suck at it.” Said Santiago. “I need the cheat code for after you’ve dropped the ball and imploded all your relationships with people”

Thompson laughed, “Don’t we all.”

Santiago had caused enough damage. Staying in that house was only going to lead to more fights. He was not going to be the reason anyone felt unsafe in their own home.

“I’m going to crash at a friend's place. I guess if I can’t stay there, you can find a different spot for me.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“That doesn’t really matter anymore. No one wants me there.”

It was a cyclical issue with Santiago, his counselor was quite familiar with by now. The boy was adamant that his wants and needs were irrelevant compared to others. That his own desires should not be a consideration in the choices he made.

Santiago did not value himself. So he could not comprehend that others could either.

“We talked about making assumptions. Now I will approve of you staying with this friend for now. Some space would do everyone some good with tensions running high.” Thompson raised a finger to halt him, “You need to start implementing some of those techniques we talked about.”

“I know what I am supposed to do.” Santiago said he gestured pointedly with his hands, “Except in the moment everything I know goes away and I black out. Like I’m on autopilot. I don’t always mean to throw punches as stupid as that sounds.”

“It’s actually a lot simpler than you think.”

“Enlighten me.” Santiago frowned, mimicking the man's stiff posturing.

“Let’s review some of the situations where you ‘blacked out’. The alley, the parking lot, and Rose’s house.” Thompson held up a finger for each, “What is the common denominator.”

“I don’t know.” If Santiago had, he would not even need to ask. Those situations were totally different aside from him punching people in the face.

“These situations you were in control of at the start. You were even able to deal with those boys' harassment several times before you finally came to blows.”

“Yeah because they were messing with some girl—” Santiago stopped and glared at Thompson.

“It’s a trigger. You spent most of your life in a very abusive household with a terrible man who hurt your mother who hurt you. You didn’t care if he hurt you, but you cared if he hurt her.”

“Because she couldn’t defend herself!” Santiago snapped, “It’s not the same.”

“It is. Your confrontation with Wes even as far back as the incident that got you removed from the group home. You were not uncontrollably aggressive until…”

Santiago ruffled his hair with a growl. “He threatened my mom.”

He was right. Santiago hated that he was right.

But if being okay with people harassing or hurting people that could not fight back was wrong then he did not want to be right.

“The alley, you were fine. In control until Sylvia was in danger. The parking lot, a girl was being harassed by four boys. The fight with Khalil you were in control right up until he hurt Skylar.” Thompson smiled, “You think that you are a violent person who hurts people. You are a protective person who reacts aggressively because that has literally been how you survived.”

“How do I fix it and get control?”

That much he needed. If he could get a handle on his reactiveness maybe things don't always have to end in blood.

“Recognizing is step one. You need to think about past situations and how you felt before you blanked. Headaches, muscle tension, things like this is your body warning you that it’s ramping up for what is coming.” Thompson said, “Then the hardest part. You have to try when you can to separate yourself from these situations.”

Santiago gritted his teeth, “I can’t not do anything. I won’t.”

“Normally I would advise never going to physical violence as a solution. For you I know that is not realistic.” Thompson said. “If in a situation we want to exhaust all other options before going to physical violence. Can you at least attempt the next aggressive encounter you have?”

“I guess.”

“Good, we will start with that. Take time to think about it. Your homework will be figuring out what your warning signs are. If you encounter another conflict all you have to do is try , then we will discuss what we can take away from it.” Thompson smiled, “Simple enough?”

Santiago nodded.

He knew there was no way he was not going to mess this up. Still he would try. If not for himself then for the people around him that he cared for.

Out in the lobby Santiago spotted the familiar fiery red mane of his former housemate in the waiting area flipping through a magazine. It made sense they all did see Thompson and this was not his usually scheduled session.

“Hey, Mia.” He said.

Her warm chocolate eyes lit up, “Hey, wasn’t expecting to see you here. How are you?”

“Good. I’m crashing with a friend.”

“You know, you didn’t have to leave. I know Khalil can be a dick but—”

“It’s not because of him.” Santiago sighed, “I mean I screwed up with Sylvia. She completely shut me out. I don’t want to make her any more uncomfortable.”

“How did you screw up?”

“I kissed her.”

“Oh,” Mia smiled, “That bad a kisser huh?”

“Shut up,” Santiago laughed, “I thought she was feeling me. I guess I was wrong.”

“You shouldn’t have to leave home because of something like that. She’ll get over it, she's just super sensitive.” Mia rolled her eyes.

“Also the thing with Rose.”

“Rose doesn’t care about any of that Santiago, she’s worried about you.”

“Is that why she was avoiding me?”

“Santiago, you thought she killed a bus full of kids. In the same way you don’t want Sylvia to be uncomfortable with your presence, she didn’t want to scare you with hers.”

“Oh,” He said. “Why do you gotta make sense all the time. That shit is annoying.”

“Get used to it.” Mia said.

Santiago bit his lip, “So Sylvia is good.”

Mia whacked him with the magazine, “Look I’ll talk to her tonight. See how she’s feeling. I’ll text you.”

He nodded, “Than—”

“Santiago,” Khalil said, hands tucked in the pockets of his torn black hoodie. “Thought you ran back to Beacon.”

“I don’t run from nothing.” Santiago said.

“Guys, really we are in a therapist's office. Chill.” Mia whispered harshly.

“Mia, you can’t be serious. You know what those two were up to.” Khalil said.

Mia shrugged, “And? Let it go Khalil. We all have done and said stupid shit. It was a misunderstanding. It’s done now.”

“Why did you even think something like that could be true?” Khalil's eyes narrowed at Santiago. “Rose took you in—”

“I didn’t ask for that so don’t make it sound like she was doing me a favor.” Santiago said.

“Yeah, because you were so much better off being raised by a junkie.” Khalil said.

“Santiago!” Mia hollered too late to grab a hold of the boy before he lunged at Khalil.

Santiago slammed him back into the wall beside forearm pressed across the boy's chest pinning him there.

“Santiago, let him go. “ Thompsons said from the doorway.

“He started this shit— He—” Santiago seethed.

“Remember what we talked about. Violence as a last resort.”

Santiago’s breathing was heavy as he tried to level himself. Glowering down at Khalil’s smug face.

Begrudgingly Santiago released Khalil taking a step back.

“Now what is all this about?” Thompson folded his arms.

“Khalil is still harping on the thing with Rose.”

“I wanted to know why?” Khalil threw his arms out nonchalantly.

“Because she had more information on those kids than the cops. Evidence that she withheld from an ongoing investigation where she lied to the police.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Thompson frowned.

Santiago shrugged, “I wanted to see if she had a legit alibi. That’s it. I didn’t want her to be guilty of something.”

“FYI Rose was having dinner with my mother and I at Jak’s grill.” Khalil said, “You’re welcome.”

“It was good seeing you Mia.” Santiago said before he left the office.

Mia shook her head, slugging Khalil in the arm. “You’re such a dick.”

Khalil scoffed, “Oh so now I’m the bad guy.”