Free Wash Me Away by Wendy Owens Page A

breath.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m even talking about this, it really is nothing.” I take a couple steps back, waving my hands in the air. “I should probably just get back to class.”
    “Life is a burden to me. Nothing gives me pleasure. I find only sadness in everything around me. It is very difficult because of the ways of those with whom I live, and probably always shall live, are as different from mine as moonlight is from sunlight.”
    I looked down at my muddy shoes. If this is a movie quote, it is absolutely not from one I have ever seen. I can feel my throat tighten as I think about his statement.
    Leo continues, “Napoleon Bonaparte said that at the age of seventeen. My father named me after him because he was a brilliant strategist. He understood the behaviors of men, and what kinds of actions would elicit what responses. As I learned about Napoleon, I came to realize we had more in common than just our names.”
    “You’re a good general?” I snort a laugh through the snot.
    “No, dork.” He smiles. “He couldn’t relate to his father, and, after being moved to France, he had trouble relating to his classmates as well. Burton is France.”
    “I didn’t realize you hated it so much here.”
    He shakes his head. “You don’t have to hate something to know it isn’t right. I was accepted into a creative arts high school last year, but my parents refused to let me go. They told me my film school dream was a phase, and they wouldn’t let me ruin my future.”
    “You must have been pissed.”
    “I was . . . at first.” Leo’s eye are so intense I wish I could shield myself from their gaze. “But in the end I realized they’re doing what they think is best for me, no matter how messed up and twisted that is. When I turn eighteen, I get to start doing what I think is best for me.”
    “So maybe my family is keeping secrets from me because they think it’s what’s best for me?” I ask.
    He lifts his shoulders, then drops them. “Secrets, huh? I don’t know what motivates everyone, but if you’re talking about your aunt and uncle, they seem like good people.”
    “I know they are,” I begin. “I’m sorry your parents didn’t let you go to that school.”
    “I know they’re afraid of losing me, like they did my brother.” He frowns. “Grown-ups just don’t see it. They hold on so tight, they suffocate what they’re trying not to lose.”
    “It sucks,” I huff.
    “Agreed, but I didn’t tell you that so we could discuss how it sucks. I told you that so you would share with me what exactly is bothering you.”
    “I’m sorry. It seems kind of silly now,” I admit.
    “I’m sure anything that could have you that upset isn’t silly.”
    “It’s just some stuff Julia said about my mom and my uncle.”
    “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Leo laughs. “This conversation is going to take a very long time if I have to pull each bit of information from you like this.”
    “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be cryptic.”
    “Will you quit apologizing?”
    “I’m sorr—” I slap my hand against my mouth. “I do that a lot, don’t I?”
    He nods.
    “Fine,” I start. “Julia said that her mom was friends with my mom back when she went to Burton Academy. She also said they went on spring break together.”
    “And that’s a bad thing?”
    “Well, no, but she . . .” I clear my throat. “She said that my mom and Uncle Gilbert were an item, at least until my mom met my dad in Florida. She told me that my mother came straight home, broke up with Gil, and then after graduation ran off with my dad. My grandfather disowned her, and somehow Gil ended up with my aunt.”
    I peer up at him, waiting for the same reaction of shock.
    “I’m still waiting for the terrible part,” he says at last.
    “Nobody has ever told me this about my mom and dad, or my uncle.”
    “Did you ever think they didn’t tell you because it’s none of your