Potatis Elvira’s Reviews > More Than We Can Tell > Status Update

”What are you writing?” he whispers.
“I’m turning his marks into a line of barbed wire. And then above that, I’m writing, ‘The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe—’ ”
He catches my face. Presses his lips to mine. His kiss is slow and patient, just like him. A brush of lips, followed by more.
When he draws back, just a bit, I smile.

I said no. I said no to my father. The one man deserving of my rage and violence.
I said NO to my FATHER. For the first time in … ever, I feel in control
- Rev

”Please,” he says again, and his words have dissolved into a sob. “My son. Please. I am dying.”
“Good.”
Then I slam the door behind me and walk out.

”I am in such pain. How can you bear to witness such suffering?”
…
“How could you?” I yell. “How could you witness such suffering? Do you know what you did to me? Do you have any idea?”
“I raised you,” he says gently, but now his voice has no power.
“You failed me.”
“I created you.”
“I don’t care.” I’m still yelling. I wish Dad were here to catch me now. “You are not my father.”

”At the house with Neil,” he says, “they used to padlock the bedrooms at night. Lock us inside.”
I hold absolutely still.
Matthew shrugs, but his body is completely rigid. He looks at the opposite wall. “They used to lock me in with Neil.”
”What did he do?”
The look in his eyes is brutal. “Guess”.

“It’s okay,” His voice is low, calm and sure. “Rev. It’s okay.”
I’m breathing so hard I might be hyperventilating. I force my fingers to unclench. My arms are shaking.
“I’m sorry.” My voice breaks. I’m crying. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t let go of me. “It’s okay.”
And then I’m crumpling, falling against him.
He catches me. He holds on.
Because he’s not my father. He’s my dad.”

”I turn on him. “Leave me alone.”
“No.”
I get in his face. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
He doesn’t back off. “No.”
My hands form fists. “Leave me alone!” I’m shouting now.
His voice grows quieter. “No.”
“Leave me alone!” I shove him, and I’m strong enough to push him back a step, but he doesn’t move beyond that.
“No.” His voice is so quiet. “Rev. No.”

A hand grabs my arm. Red colors my vision. I whirl. My arm flies. I make contact.
Declan hits the ground.
I fall back.
My heart is a roar in my ears. I can’t speak. I can’t think.
I hit my best friend. I hit my best friend. I hit my best friend.

In my head, the whispers aren’t just about this moment. They’re about my father.

I told you to answer me.
I will not wait forever.

A threat. A promise. There are penalties for failure.
Tension forms a vise grip around my chest. My throat.
My head wants to explode.

Light and shadows play games with the trails of water on her face. My eyes trace her lips, the lines of her face, the soft curve of her jaw. I want to touch her so badly that my hand aches for it.
- Rev