Claiming Family

by Desi Lin

  The waitress interrupted, setting our plates down and bringing Michael back to the present. He nodded his thanks, then speared a bite of potato before continuing. “Your mother and I…” he paused long enough for me to shift uneasily in my chair. “We were never in love. Cali was an old friend from school, one of the few I stayed in touch with. She was a regular in my life, and she was there when I fell head over heels for Ash’s mother, Krystal.”

  I liked knowing they’d had some kind of history, even if it had never been love between them. I’d never been a drama queen, and I wasn’t going to start now by overreacting unnecessarily. Michael paused, eating a bit, and I suspect gathering his thoughts. One of the sconces flickered out at the next table, and a man in a waiter uniform strode over, pulling a lighter from his pocket and shooting a small flame to relight the sconce.

  Michael spoke while I ate and listened. “It was a bit of a whirlwind romance, but we just fit seamlessly. Cali and Krystal became fast friends. Cali was even her maid of honor at our wedding. So, she knew how much I loved Ash’s mother, Krystal, and how badly the accident that took her life shook me.” His shoulders drooped, and his brown eyes unfocused as he appeared to get lost in memories.

  Cautiously, I pressed my fingers against his in effort to draw him back. He startled, shook his head, then refocused on me. “Cali was always there, to comfort me or to help with Ash, who was so young at the time. We didn’t plan for anything to happen between us. It just kind of did. It happened a few times, usually when things seemed darkest to me.” I held back a shudder at the mental image trying to break through, of the two of them together. Ew.

  “Then a couple months after the first time, she came by and told me she’d gotten an offer in North Carolina. I wanted her to be happy, to find the Genus she wanted so badly. So, I told her to go.” Michael’s smile fell from his face then, his shoulders slumped. “Now, I guess it was the wrong choice. I thought the move was the answer to her prayers. I’m so sorry.”

  The sheer amount of guilt emanating from him sank into me. Slowly, I reached across the table, placing my hand over his. “You had no way to know.” I spoke with all the conviction I felt. “You did what you thought would make her happiest. That’s pretty amazing.” He’d thought of her desires before his own need to have a warm body and a helping hand. To me, that spoke volumes. He might not have been in love with my mother, but he cared about her.

  He shook his head. “If I’d known…”

  “But you didn’t,” I interrupted before he could continue down that road. “You made the best choice you could with the information you had. And we can’t change it.”

  “We’ve lost so much time.” He reached across the table to brush at my red hair.

  I fought the instinctive urge to jerk back away from his touch. Reassuring him had been easy. Accepting his touch would be an uphill battle for me. Michael shook off his melancholy and smiled again.

  “I’m sorry, got off track there.” He picked up his coffee and grimaced when he sipped it before setting it down. “Cold.”

  Reaching across the table, I pressed my hand to the outside of the mug and heated it until steam curled from the top.

  “Thanks.” He sipped and sighed. “Much better.”

  “Now, I was explaining about Ash. After Cali left, I didn’t think about what happened between us at all. Every time we spoke about Cali, it was as a friend and not a lover. But Krystal,” he sighed, a wistful smile playing over his face. “I talked about her all the time. I loved her so much, and I wanted Ash to know everything about her, to love her as much as I did. She had no one, but us, to remember her. Without meaning to, my stories and memories built her up into a legend. It didn’t help that I didn’t date much after Krystal, either, not until Kelly. And she kind of barreled in and wouldn’t leave. It took Ash a long time to come around to the idea of us.”

  I fiddled with my water glass, chasing stray droplets on the outside of the glass. “So, the other day was shock?”

  “Likely.” He shrugged.

  I accepted it; after all, he couldn’t exactly read Ash’s mind. We might be capable of a lot of things, but not that.

  “That doesn’t excuse his behavior, though,” Michael added. “He’s not a bad guy, Seraphina. He’ll come around.”

  I had my doubts, but for now, I’d keep them to myself. For the rest of the meal, Michael shared minor details about my mother, little things like stories from school and college.

  “In college, we shared a small apartment with our friend Hugh.” His grin lit up his brown eyes, and I found myself biting back one of my own, my stomach fluttered as I waited for him to continue. “He was a bit of a partier, and Cali was a light sleeper. One semester, she had a class at seven in the morning, and Hugh would come stumbling in drunk at three in the morning, making enough noise to raise the dead. She finally had enough, and one night, she rigged an air horn to the front door. When he came home that night, it went off.” His broad shoulders shook with laughter. “Not only did it wake both of us and scare him sober, but it woke up the gal across the hall and her three-month-old infant we didn’t know about.”

  My eyes widened. Oh shit.

  Michael laughed and nodded. “Yeah, after we got the lecture of a lifetime from an overtired new mom, we offered to make up for it by babysitting once a week for a month. She was all too happy to take us up on the offer.”

  The stories made her real to me for the first time.

  “One Halloween, while Hugh and I were in class, she went around the apartment and put glow in the dark eye stickers on all the photos we had taped to walls. Neither of us noticed, not until we got up in the middle of the night and screamed because the possessed photos were watching us.”

  I almost fell out of my chair laughing. Apparently, my mother liked a good prank.

  By the end of the evening, I felt more comfortable around Michael, though I was still unsure how to be a daughter to him. I wished there was someone I could talk to, to find out if I was doing things right or not.

  After he paid for our meal, Michael waited outside with me for the car Souta insisted I use, despite my protests.

  A shiver ran through me. Though the air had cooled a bit as the sun set, it wasn’t the reason for my reaction. I couldn’t explain it. Something seemed off tonight, and for a moment, it almost felt like I was being watched.

  I shook it off as a car pulled to the curb.

  “Thank you for dinner.” I turned to Michael. “I liked hearing about my mom.”

  “It was nice to remember.” He smiled. “Why don’t you come by the house in a couple days, get to know Kelly?”

  “Sure.” Souta honked, and I opened the passenger door, waving as I slid in.

  As soon as Michael turned away and the door closed, a firm grip on my arm made me jump “How’d it go? Did it go well? It looked like it went well. He looks happy. You look, well… not happy, but not unhappy. Is he okay? Do you like him?”

  My eyes widened at the sheer speed at which Souta whipped off questions.

  “Oh my god.” I laughed. “Take a breath.”

  Heat flashed in his brown eyes. He yanked me forward, hand reaching up to cup the back of my neck as our lips slammed together. I melted into him needing his familiar comfort. His tongue ran over my lips, and I parted them eagerly. Our tongues danced until I needed air.

  Panting, I pulled back, swallowing hard at the way his heated gaze ran over me.

  A shiver ran through me as he growled, “I missed you, hot stuff.”

  I raised a doubtful eyebrow. “I was only gone a couple hours.”

  “Way too long.” Souta leaned in, drawing us close again, but I put my hand to his chest, stopping him.

  “Drive. Before someone wonders what we’re doing.”

  “Spoilsport,” he muttered as he put the car in gear and took off. Flush from our kiss, I took a few deep breaths and tried to get my body back under control. As he drove us home, we talked about my dinner with Michael. Hi
s bubbly enthusiasm kept me laughing.

  When we arrived home, he pulled me into the house. I stumbled on the green and black entry rug trying to keep up with him, waving at his parents as we passed them in the hall on the way to the second floor. I didn’t bother asking Souta to slow down, he wouldn’t, but it would have been nice to know why we were in such a hurry.

  “Babe! We’re home!” Souta called as he continued to tug me toward his room. He threw the door open, and seconds later, he pulled me down onto the bed with him. I sank into the soft blue comforter as he spooned me from behind.

  “Cuddle time! Brooks, get your sexy ass over here.” His arm came around my waist bringing us closer together and scooting us backward to make room. I’d failed to notice Brooks curled into an overstuffed blue armchair near the bed with a book in hand.

  “Hello, sweethearts.” Brooks grabbed a leather bookmark from the white side table, tucked it into his book, and set it down as he rose. He slipped into bed, maneuvering until he spooned me from the front. I laughed as the guys scooted in, nearly squishing me between them. It took a few minutes, but we eventually settled into comfortable positions, curled around each other.

  “You seem surprisingly okay,” Brooks whispered in my ear as his fingers stroked the soft cotton against my hip.

  “She’s better than okay. She’s fuckin’ fabulous.” Souta swatted at my rear as his lips left a peck on my neck.

  “It was nice. I like him.” I burrowed into the bed as I spoke.

  I didn’t want to move from here for the rest of the night. A hand stroked my side, sending shivers over me, while another stroked my hip. My eyes drifted closed under their gentle touches. Soft kisses pressed against my neck and collarbone. With a sigh, I took a moment to enjoy the intimacy. I liked being wrapped up in my boys, but my brain wouldn’t let it go on for long.

  A hand moved across my stomach, the fabric shifting until the fingers at my hip teased my bare skin. I stiffened when the fingers stroked over my thigh. They stilled, and I forced myself to relax. My mind refused to cooperate, though, overwhelmed by the physical contact, and I wiggled out from in between the guys.

  “Sorry, just a little much touch right now.” I tried to smile but failed.

  Souta bounced off the bed, toe-walking over to me, and thankfully stopped without grabbing me, which was his usual move.

  “It’s okay, hot stuff. No big.” He reached out and gently ran a finger down my cheek. “Why don’t we watch a movie, and I’ll ask Chris if he’s up to fixing us a snack?”

  If we watched a movie, we’d be in the family room where I could curl into one of the armchairs without hurting their feelings. Not to mention Chris, Souta’s cook, made the best movie snacks. I nodded, and Souta grinned as he bounced out of the room.

  Brooks rose from the bed. He ran a hand through his blond curls as if hoping to tame them.

  “Come on, you two! What are we watching?” Souta’s voice floated back to us.

  Brooks chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned close. “We’re not going anywhere, beautiful.”

  I knew that. In my heart, I knew.

  My head, though, kept screaming loud enough to drown my heart out.

  Six

  “C’mon, firefly, we don’t want to be late.”

  JJ tugged my hand, drawing my attention back to him. I let him pull me along, but my gaze drifted back to where the Walrus, I mean Scholae, of the school stood talking to a guy who seriously gave me the creeps. I couldn’t quite put a finger on why. There was just something about him.

  He looked perfectly ordinary, one might say handsome, with short black hair, broad shoulders, average height and weight. Dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt, he could have been a local college guy. As if he felt my gaze on him, his head jerked around, and something unsettling glittered in his dark eyes.

  A shudder ripped through me, and I closed the small distance between JJ and me, squeezing his hand harder. My grip drew his attention.

  “What’s wrong?” He stopped, pulling me into his arms.

  For once I didn’t stiffen or pull away, needing his comfort at that moment.

  “Who is that talking to Scholae Jones?”

  JJ peered over me, then dropped a kiss on the top of my head before turning us to head into the school.

  “Chester?”

  Another shudder ran through me. “Who is he? He kind of creeps me out.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about him. He’s just the local whack job. He was a couple years ahead of Sandra, Brooks’ sister, in school. According to her, he was obsessed with the Quintus myth. He’s likely just bugging Jones about it.”

  I tried to put him out of my mind during the school day, but the creepy way his eyes were laser-focused on me kept returning. Something about him unsettled me, far more than JJ’s brush off about him being a bit weird should.

  And the Quintus myth? Why would he, or anyone, be so focused on that?

  Determined to put the guy out of my mind, I flipped to a blank page in my notebook and tried to tune into Ms. Gallup. I liked Genus Studies, and now that I had one, the things I learned would be so much more important. Only a myth distracted me at the moment.

  Supposedly, the Quintus was the fifth element, Spirit. No one really knew if they ever existed, though. The stories were few, far between, and vague. The ones the Tabularium possessed differed greatly in definitions of the powers of the Quintus, as well as their purpose. It wasn’t like with my element or the boys. We could manipulate our element, a physical thing. Spirit wasn’t a physical element, and none of the stories agreed on anything.

  I listed the abilities I read about in the few stories online, some other facts from those stories, anything that I could remember. By the time class ended I developed quite a list, but still couldn’t understand why that Chester guy would be so obsessed with the myth.

  An arm wrapped around my waist; lips pressed against my neck while a hand gently tugged the notebook from my hands.

  “Hot stuff, what is this?” Souta’s lips moved against my neck as we duck walked down the hall.

  I wriggled out of his grasp.

  His eyes scanned the headings, brows drawing together. “Quintus abilities? Why are you listing those?”

  I shrugged. “Saw some guy talking to Jones this morning. JJ said he was obsessed with the Quintus myth. For some reason, I can’t get my head to leave it alone, so I was trying to figure out why.”

  He shook his head and handed my notebook back. “If you can figure that one out, you’ll solve the mystery of the century.”

  Brooks and JJ met us in the cafeteria, and as our talk turned to music, the mystery of Chester and the Quintus fell to the back of my mind.

  When the boys’ talk switched to other things, I pulled my phone out and flipped around, looking at random stuff, until something caught my attention.

  “Hey, check this out. Did you guys know about this?” Unable to hide my flutter of excitement I turned my phone toward them, revealing the site I had up. They glanced at the screen, JJ leaned closer, while the other two shook their heads.

  “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of this place. An old historical house; it’s mainly a bunch of period stuff. Never been there.”

  “The site says they have old documents, diaries, newspapers, and stuff.” The idea of being able to see and read old diaries thrilled me.

  “Looks like exactly the kind of place you’d enjoy.” Brooks leaned in to get a better look at the site as the bell rang.

  Lunch never lasted long enough, dammit.

  Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I grabbed my tray and tossed the remains of my lunch, then kissed Souta and Brooks before heading off to science with JJ.

  Neither of us were doing well in Science, since we both tuned out Mr. Bearns’s lectures. Thankfully, the experiments and lab work made up for our lack of book work.

  Today, Bearns was in lecture mode, so JJ pulled out his sketchbook. I envied him the ability to look like he might be p
aying attention. Only, instead of taking notes, he sketched.

  I rested my head on my hands and fought to keep my lids from closing.

  When the bell rang, we both jumped, gathered our stuff, and followed the throng of people out the door.

  We met Souta down the hall, and JJ passed me off with a quick kiss. I didn’t miss the jealous glares around us.

  Souta and I strolled into English hand-in-hand. We still got fleeting glances on occasion; sometimes it was confusion, but mostly it was people adjusting to the idea of Souta and me.

  The bell rang as we sank into our chairs, and Mr. Rhinehart clapped his hands.

  I leaned back and waited for him to impart whatever crap he’d spout today. For a young—and frankly good looking—man, he acted like a seventy-year-old stuffy English professor, complete with khaki pants and brown cardigan.

  Although, I guess the professor part was true.

  I didn’t like English. The damn grammar rules had more exceptions than I could wrap my head around. Not to mention we read way too many fiction novels. I didn’t mind learning about the people behind the stories, but the damn novels…

  I’d rather shove an ice pick in my eye.

  Okay, maybe not.

  Still, I hated it.

  A nudge to my foot yanked me out of my thoughts, and I glanced at Souta, who threw me a grin and nodded toward Mr. Rhinehart, who had started his regularly scheduled lecture mode while I got lost in my head.

  “Shakespeare was, in my opinion, the greatest mind of his age. So, as we dive into his work I hope you develop an appreciation for the incredible works you read. We’ll be doing a lot of in-class reading and discussion, but a major part of this unit will be a project done largely in your free time.” He strode over to his desk and picked up a sheaf of papers. “I will be assigning you into groups or pairs and giving each of you a scene to work on from one of Shakespeare’s iconic works. You’ll have two weeks to prepare. You’ll get assigned a date to present your project.” He paced the front, his cardigan swishing.

  Why did it swish that way? I’d never seen a cardigan do that. Was he a Ventus? I looked over at Souta, nudging his foot with mine to catch his attention.