by B D Grant
She nods slowly saying, “He was a rogue.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “You’re confused. We went into hiding to get away from those people.”
“I’m telling you what I know.” She opens the top desk drawer. She takes out two pieces of gum. “It wasn’t a secret,” she says, offering me one.
“No thanks.”
She pops one piece in her mouth and drops the other back in the drawer. My inner lie detector hasn’t gone off once but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t given bad information.
“Who exactly told you my dad was a rogue?”
Her eyes suddenly light up. It makes me wonder if she’s been waiting to burst my bubble. “You already know there were and still are a lot of people we never knew were members; but there were recruiters that would sort of, check people’s emotional temperature per se. They would see how they felt toward the current Seraphim structure. They would find parents who weren’t happy with their children’s progress in school. They would ‘show them the light’ you could say.
Even though Will was fairly young when he moved, he considered Aurora his home. Unfortunately, at school he had to deal with the blatantly unfair politics early on. He had it even worse than most since he and your mother were so late to join Aurora.” She takes a small agenda out of a bottle drawer and flips through it giving me a second to keep up.
“But they were younger than I am and I just showed up.”
She tosses the agenda in the drawer, along with some papers from her desk, which she places on top. “At the time, there were quite a few people whose only jobs were to locate Seraphim that were born on the outside. Most were brought in around five or six years old.” I nod, letting her know I’m following along. “Anyways, I watched as they overlooked your uncle’s strengths to praise others that were less in so many ways. It was during one of William’s unhappy times with the council that he was invited to a rogue meeting.”
“Hold on,” I say, tossing my hands in the air as if they could stop her words. “They tried to get Uncle Will to become a Rogue?”
She nods her head ‘yes’. “And his invite wasn’t from just anyone. It was your father that came to him inviting him to go to the meetings.”
I vigorously turn my head back and forth not wanting to hear what she’s saying. No way. I don’t believe it. She looks me square in the eye. “Am I lying to you?” My head stops. I stare at her hard. I push like I did to the man lying about his buck and Uncle Will’s secretary. I want it to be a lie but the Veritatis in me doesn’t so much as make a spark.
I finally give in. “No, you’re not.”
“Then stop trying to fight what I am telling you. William was invited by your father and it was at that meeting that he also saw Charles. A number of others were present too. He realized most were first timers like him. This was all before the council upheaval and the revelation about the murders. My father was only starting to question the Rogue movement.
I never got an invite. To be honest, I was never a fan of your father’s. William was excited, thinking these people would be the change we needed. That was probably the hope of so many that went to the meetings and why so many inevitably joined.
It was a teacher from our school that spoke that night. He was one of the extremists, speaking of domination instead of unity. William might have joined if it would have been a lighter topic that night. He told me later that he had such high hopes going in but when the meeting was over he knew it wasn’t what Darrell had led him to believe. He began his own work to improve the community and spread the awareness of the rogue organization. Have you seen his chart?”
“Nah ah.”
“It shows all those with known ties to the organization, the deaths that he’s linked, and the missing children. He has theories on some of the people we still know being members, but they’re only theories.” Her phone rings. She looks at her watch. “That’s my conference call,” she says, and that’s my queue to go.
“Don’t worry too hard on what I told you,” she says as I make my way out. “William is doing enough of that for the both of us.”
A couple of people tell me “Hey” as I walk through school on my way out, but I don’t stop and chat. I’m on a mission. Ashley had no right to tell Cassidy anything about my ability. First and foremost, as a best friend, your responsibility it to keep their secrets. It’s a rule and she totally broke it.
I don’t knock when I get to her dorm room. I bust open the door to find her reading on her bed. She gives me her normal smile but once I enter the room it fades. “What’s up?”
“Oh, you know, I just found out my best friend is a narc.”
She places her bookmark between the pages and shuts the book. “I’m so sorry.” “You’re sorry?”
“It’s not like I told some random person. If anyone would know about what to do it would be her.”
“We agreed this wasn’t something we were going to share with ANYONE. How could you?!” I start shaking with anger.
She sets her book down. “I really thought she could help. Honest.”
I grit my teeth. “You were so out of line.” I fight the urge to slap her.
She slowly rises from her bed. “Please Taylor, I only wanted to help.” She steps toward me. I take a step back. I’ve never been in a fight before. Not a physical fight at least.
“I don’t want to hear it. You aren’t my friend. You never were.” I turn sharply and walk out the door. I make it to my room before the tears escape. I throw myself onto my pillow and alternate between crying and punching the defenseless pillow.
6
K. On the field
The large crack I made punching Mick and my bedroom door isn’t as good as the feeling of release it gave me to unleash my anger. The relief from the blow might also have come, in part, from Mick.
“Good job, now we are both going to get it,” he says from the other side of the room. I run my hand over the door causing pieces of the cheap door to fall off in the middle where my fist made contact. I turn from the door to look at him. He instantly deflates seeing my expression. “What did the paper say?” He asks, walking over to pick up the balled up note from the floor. “Bad news?”
“The bad news is only part of it,” I say, going to my bed and sitting down.
A couple of guys on the other side of the door are complaining about the noise. “Mind your own business!” Mick yells at them through the door. They immediately disperse.
“My grandmother had another stroke and Lia thinks it’s fine to run off and leave me stuck here with no way to check on her. I might as well be on the other side of the world.”
Mick sits down beside me. “That’s tough, man. What about your parents?”
“Dead,” I say, even though I don’t exactly know if that’s true where my father’s concerned.
“No brothers or sisters?”
I shake my head no, laying back on my bed, covering my face with my hands. “Normal teenagers don’t have to deal with this part of life until they’re older,” I say between my fingers.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hear him go to his table. “This is the place Seraphim are sent too when they don’t have anyone else. Take me for example, my parents are alive but they don’t ever come visit; I might as well be alone.”
“You still have parents. You might not see them, but if you weren’t in school then you would have them to go to.”
“Maybe for a little while, until they found somewhere else to send me.”
“Is this your pity party or mine?” I ask, sitting up as I moved my hand off my head.
Mick has his notebook on his lap and is drawing something in it. My note is lying between us. “You’re mad, I get it. Knowing someone you love is dying is hard no matter how many relatives you have, but don’t expect a lot of sympathy around here.”
She’s not dying. She was doing good after her first stroke. She can make it through this too. Mick’s being a little harsh.
/>
Someone knocks on the door causing us both to get up.
We are escorted by a teacher to what I guess is their equivalent of the principal’s office at the study center. “Have a seat,” the teacher says, walking past a bench before going into a room.
A short time later, Mr. Grad and two other teachers come down the hall and walk into the same room. Mr. Grad leaves the door open. “Kelly, get in here,” he calls.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them it was all me,” I tell Mick.
I walk in the room and immediately have four set of eyes on me. “Take a chair,” Mr. Grad says sternly, directing me to the one in front of him where he stands by the desk. The two teachers he walked in with are standing behind me. The one that escorted Mick and I is standing by the desk. He proceeds when I sit down. “Tell me what happened to your door.”
“I punched it. I was mad.”
He looks behind me at the other teachers. “You’re fighting with your roommate…” He looks at a sheet of paper in his hand, “Mick?”
“No, I was mad at Lia.”
The teacher that walked Mick and I here chimes in, “There were no signs of an altercation between the students when I got there.”
Mr. Grad lays the paper on the desk and takes a seat in the chair behind the desk relaxing somewhat. “What did Mrs. Heincliff do to make you mad? She isn’t here.”
“She promised when she brought me here that I would know what was happening with my grandmother and I haven’t heard anything until today. I had to ask a teacher to tell her that I wanted to talk to her. Then, when I got to my room just now there was this stupid note telling me not only that Gran’s health is getting worse, but that Lia is leaving.” I’m getting mad again talking about it but the heat inside me cools.
Mr. Grad looks at the other teacher in front of me, not saying a word. He doesn’t look at Mr. Grad but keeps his arms crossed staring intensely at me. I shift a little in the chair getting uncomfortable by his gaze.
Mr. Grad looks back at me. “I don’t know how you were raised to act when you get emotional, but damaging school property is unacceptable. It is one thing to lash out when you’re on the field, but we will not put up with it otherwise.” He stands up. “You can go back to your room. Tomorrow a door will be brought to your room and you will take down the one you damaged and replace it with the new one.”
I get up to leave. “And don’t think this is your punishment,” he adds, “I will let you know what that is when I think of something suitable.”
Mick is called in after I walk out. I stay in the hall. Going to my room sounds as unappealing as doing homework. Waiting on Mick is the least I can do since I put him in the middle of this.
“We need to know if you can’t handle this. He could have hurt someone,” I hear Mr. Grad saying harshly from the office.
“He wasn’t going to hurt anyone,” Mick tells him. “Well, if Lia would have been there he would have tried,” he jests.
“Do you think this’s funny?” Mr. Grad asks, angrily.
“No, Sir.” The humor has left Mick’s voice.
“People have been hurt before. Is that what you want?”
“What’s the difference if he beats someone up during school or while he’s on the field? What about the students you allow to get bruised and bloodied by Dynamar any other week—” Mick’s voice raises until Mr. Grad cuts him off.
“You know the exercises that are preformed on the field are for everyone’s benefit. Dynamar get to practice their ability just like every one else gets to out there.”
“Terrifying other Seraphim is a great way to help us practice our abilities,” Mick says sarcastically.
“I think we’ve gotten off subject,” another teacher says.
There’s some movement closer to the door. “I promise I will pay better attention to him, but it would be nice to have some kind of warning if he’s going to be getting more bad news. I have homework and tests to study for, so can I go?”
“Just know, if anything like this happens again you’ll get your old roommate back.”
“Got it,” Mick says strolling out. “You weren’t supposed to stick around,” he says, seeing me standing by the door. He doesn’t slow down as he walks past me. He must really want to study.
I chase after him. “I wanted to apologize for getting you in trouble.”
“It’s cool,” he says, in tone that would insinuate it is anything but cool.
That was way too easy.
“Is it?” I ask as we make it out of the study center much faster than it took for us going in. I can finally walk at his side and see his furrowed brow.
“I should have been able to stop you from punching the door,” he finally says.
“You can’t focus on my mood all the time.” He’s still walking fast. “I was inconsolable,” I say hoping it will make this better.
“No, that doesn’t affect my ability.”
He doesn’t say anything else until we get back to our room. The entire hall seems interested in checking out our door. Someone has pulled off more of the broken pieces in the middle of the door making a hole through it.
I tape paper over the hole on the outside and inside of the door in an attempt to restore some privacy.
“I can calm down half the Dyna football team in the middle of a game. Did you feel anything from me when you were D’d?”
I think back to the note. There were other emotions besides anger but I don’t recall any of them being too noticeable. “If I was getting any chill vibes it wasn’t much.”
This time, Mick doesn’t doodle at his desk. He takes out a book and flips through the chapters. He mumbles to himself, “Things finally get back to normal, then I get a new roommate, and all of a sudden I revert to a stage one skill level. Fan-freakin-tastic.” He stops on a page and takes out a highlighter. “You better catch up on physics,” he tells me. “Just because you aren’t taking the next exam doesn’t mean you won’t be taking all the ones that will follow it.”
Mr. Grad doesn’t take long deciding on my punishment. A coach finds me after class the next day and informs me how easy I’m getting off when he tells me, “He’s being nice letting you join Dynamar your age on the field. It’ll be an excellent outlet for that rage of yours. That is basically your ability after all.”
When I get to the locker room by the field I start to think it is a punishment when I see who’s there. Mase and his friends are already there getting dressed.
“S’up,” says Mase’s heavyset friend that was at the cafeteria when I got in the altercation with Mase. I give him a small nod in return. Mick and some other guys are a few locker aisles down.
“Now don’t take it personal when I tackle you, okay?” I tell Mick playfully.
Mick smiles, “Don’t be mad when I make you feel like you’re in love with Mase.” My smile vanishes. It’s replaced with a tinge of fear that he might actually do that to me.
My football gear consists of a helmet, football shoes, socks, pants and a long sleeve shirt. All together it looks more like a slightly more padded version of a baseball uniform than something for football. I look at Mick and the other non-Dynas who are dressing in the gear I’m accustomed to having for the game.
After changing, I’m forced to leave Mick and join the Dynas on the field. Mr. Grad’s on the side of the field talking plays and telling players to wrap up their stretches.
"You," he says when I walk up, "will be first string. Get with Mase." He points to the field where Mase and the other players are already huddled up.
I walk up to the group and listen in, hoping to not draw much attention. Mase sees me coming though.
"This is Kelly's first time on the field so make sure he gets his turn pounding the peasants,” he says with a smile I might take for friendly if I didn't know that could Mick could be one of the “peasants” he’s talking about pounding. I look across the field and sure enough Mick is walking out with his teammates to line up for the game. I could s
o hound on Mase for saying he wants to pound other dudes but I take the higher road. He tells the team we have the ball and this play is going to be "Lolly pop." What kind of name is that? No one feels the need to explain the play, its stupid name, or what part I will play in it. They quickly break and head to the field.
"Hey, where do I go?" I ask the guy next to me.
He's pumped, bouncing foot-to-foot keeping the adrenaline going. "Right offensive tackle. Time to bleed, sissies!" He yells at the other team. A couple of players on the other team have some choice words as a come back and the game begins.
I was expecting Mase to have me face Mick so I that would have no choice but to tackle him, but Mick’s as far back as he can get as a safety.
It doesn't make me feel much better when I do see the guy across from me. It's skinny, black-eyed Howard. If my ears aren't failing me, he’s talking trash about my mother as he squats down. The anger that starts boiling up in me is not from Howard's sad attempt at trash talk. If anything I should be laughing at him.
"Your mom's so big she sat on a rainbow and uhh… candy popped out."
"That can't be how it goes,” I tell him through gritted teeth wanting to openly laugh in his face but the anger only grows.
He gets flustered and starts over with a different one. There’s no doubt there are Tempero working on me. If I wasn’t so angry I would help Howard out with a decent put-down but I’m out for blood now. As soon as the play is in motion I tackle him. I want to break every bone in his body, but when he hits the ground I see him wincing in pain and I snap out of it. I offer my hand to help him up.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
He refuses to take my hand. "What do you care meat-head?" He tells me.
Mase's big friend hears him as he jogs back for the next play. "What did you call him?” He says, getting in Howard’s face.
For someone who says he isn't scared of Dyna, Howard surely looks close to pissing himself. "No..nothing man. We were just talking."
"That's what I thought."