The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Leras’ body was shaking slightly, bobbing up and down with the pressure of the trains’ movement. The two teenagers had just gotten onto the train to take them back to their small town after their impromptu meeting with Lane Wakelin.

Atlas was seated opposite her, his knees faintly brushing hers as they gazed out of the window in silence. He hadn't spoken a word since they left Lane's office, his mind obviously reeling with all the information he had learnt about himself. 

Lera wanted to say something to him but she couldn't find the right words. What could you possibly say to someone who found out their entire life was a lie? So she only smiled; despite her not knowing what it felt like, she would be there if Atlas needed to talk about it. The past few weeks had made them closer than ever, despite their odd relationship dynamic being hidden from everyone around them. Especially the part about him living in her bedroom! She shuddered as she imagined the harsh insults people at school would throw at him, like bullets, if they found out. A strange, almost animalistic urge to protect him rose inside her as she thought of it, her fingernails scarring her palms in little crescents as she clenched her fists. 

In order to distract herself Lera tilted her head away from the window she was looking out of and gazed at him. "How do you feel?" She asked, her voice dripping with softness. 

Atlas jumped a little, startled. He had been so lost in his own thoughts, he had forgotten about her. He breathed out with a strong sigh, the air causing the front of his hair twitch slightly. "I don't know," he answered shrugging his shoulders. With a lick of his chapped lips, he analysed the emotions flicking through his mind. "I'm... relieved, and angry that it took eighteen years for me to find out. I'm disappointed in myself for never trying to look for my mums’ family before. And I'm also... scared?" 

Lera leaned forward on the rough seat of the train until she was close enough to see faint rings of the deepest brown circling his ebony irises. "Of meeting your real dad?" She guessed, grinning in pride when he gave a short nod in reply. 

Before they had left, Lane Wakelin had scribbled down a phone number on a yellow sticky note and handed it to his newfound nephew. "Call or text me if you ever need anything," he had said to Atlas with a smile that wasn't quite happy nor entirely sad. "I may have missed out on your life all these years but I’d like to be there for you now, to get to know you." 

Atlas had smiled at that – a real smile with his eyes sparkling in joy and his dimples appearing. Lane had gaped, clearly seeing the resemblance in his nephews smile to his deceased sisters. There was no doubt Atlas was Colette’s son after seeing that smile: it was identical.

Lera nudged Atlas out of his heavy thoughts again and shook her head lightly, her wild curls swaying against the brown blazer of her uniform. "Y’know, you don't have to contact your dad if you don't want to yet," she reassured him, correctly guessing that's what he was most concerned about. "I mean Mr Wakelin did promise he wouldn't tell him about you until you're ready so don't stress about it okay?" 

Her voice was kind and soothing to his ears and Atlas’s eyes shone in gratefulness and thanks. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. She understood.

His relief at the revelation of his father not being his father was apparent in the way his shoulders were relaxed. Atlas was leaning back in the seat, not a care in the world for probably the first time in his life. He didn’t have the evil of his mothers’ killer running through his veins in the form of blood and for that, he would be eternally thankful.

The next station is Clearford. This is a National Rail service via the Midlands to Manchester. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.