by Kristie Cook
I’m thinking about these things as I measure the coffee grounds into the filter. Karl and Kellan are in the living room, talking. They spend a lot of time together, considering that where I go, Karl goes. Their friendship runs deep, and it makes me happy to see it in motion.
“So,” Karl is saying, almost hesitantly, “I’ve got to ask, bro—what’s up with Jonah lately?”
There’s a prolonged silence, one that I don’t shatter by moving. “I’m assuming you’re asking why he’s there and I’m here so much.”
“Partly. I’m also referring to how he nearly bites off anyone’s head when they try talking to him. And how when Giules comes over here, he won’t get out of the car. And how he goes to Annar most afternoons when you and I both know he’d rather gouge out his eyes than spend quality time with your dad.”
The good mood I’d been precariously clinging to evaporates.
“Jonah is not acting like Jonah,” Karl continues. “What gives?”
Another bit of silence. “He’s mad at me.”
“Why?” Karl asks, sounding stunned.
Kellan answers slowly. “I don’t know really what to say other than I know he’s so pissed off he can barely be in the same room with me anymore.”
“You tried talking to him about it?”
“Of course,” Kellan sighs. “For weeks, I tried asking him what was wrong. But it only made him madder. He blocks me at every turn, so there’s nothing I can get from him. So … I’ve stopped asking.”
I peek around the corner; Karl is absolutely boggled by this. “You think it could be the move?”
“I don’t think so. Believe it or not, he was happy about it. No—he was beyond happy. He tried to block me from knowing it, but I got bits and pieces. I was the one who was pissed to move to this hellhole of a town. But then, right after you and Giules came to town, he began to shut down. He barely speaks to Giules unless she specifically asks him a question. And he’s taken a few swings at me when I’ve dared to demand any explanations.” He laughs under his breath and touches the skin under his left eye. “Caught me off guard once.”
I knew that surfboard story was a lie, the little voice snorts.
Karl is shaking his head. “That’s not your brother.”
“Tell me about it.” Kellan slumps down on the couch. “I wish there was something I could do, but anytime I reach out, it makes things worse. It’s like … he hates me.”
“Kel, I don’t think …”
“I feel it when he lets me.”
My stomach churns violently. “Do you think it could be that he’s being watched?” Karl asks after a long moment.
“I used to think so. But, he never had a problem with Giuliana before. In fact, he’s always rather liked her. I mean …” Kellan blows out a hard breath. “Karl, Jonah is shutting down right before my eyes and there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s the reasonable one of the two of us. I can’t believe that the Guard sending someone out would piss him off this badly. It’s got to be something more.” He pauses, pulls at his hair. It’s a nervous tick I’ve noticed of his. “Would you be willing to talk to him?”
“Dude. Last time I tried to even ask how school is going, he threatened to put me in a coma.”
“I know … but …”
More silence. The only sounds in the house are those of coffee dripping into the pot. Finally, after what feels like forever, Karl says, “I’ll try.”
“Thanks,” Kellan murmurs quietly.
I turn back toward the kitchen and busy myself with getting cups down from the cupboard and creamer from the fridge. When Kellan appears next to me, my heart nearly breaks at the look on his face. I wrap my arms around him tightly and he buries his head in my hair. We don’t say anything.
Because how can I tell him the reason his brother is so angry at him is because of me?
That night, the pressure inside builds up so strongly that I have no other choice than to do something to help relieve it. Yet, this isn’t an easy task. Cora and Lizzie have made their positions clear—Kellan is a mistake. Cora’s outright hostile to him in some perverted sense of indignation, which he ignores the best he can. Lizzie, on the other hand, has made an effort to get to know him—she and Graham think he’s great, but privately, she still tells me she thinks I’m meant to be with Jonah.
Meg and Alex are useless to even attempt to talk to. Alex is so wrapped up in his research that he can’t be bothered with anything other than schoolwork. And Meg … well, Meg is Meg. Talking to her about such an emotionally fraught topic would be like kicking a puppy. Joys don’t do depression. When Meg is sad, a kind of malaise settles over the school. It’s just not worth it.
A mother-daughter chat is out of the question. Caleb is in Annar for work. That leaves Karl.
Even though it’s well past midnight, I still creak down the hall to his door. The TV’s on, which isn’t unusual—Karl often falls asleep with it on. So I knock softly, just in case he’s already gone to bed.
But he’s not. He’s awake, albeit rubbing his eyes, and surprised to see me at his door. “Why are you still up?”
Suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a good idea to talk to him anymore. “Never mind. It can wait …”
But he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “If something’s wrong, let’s talk.”
We head downstairs to the kitchen. Karl makes me hot chocolate—not the kind from a packet, but the real kind. A mixture of three different melted chocolates and thick milk, the kind of hot chocolate that could warm the cruelest of hearts. Being a diehard chocoholic, I can safely attest his version is the best I’ve ever had.
“What’s on your mind?”
I’ve been imagining what to say to Karl for several hours tonight, but all my words fail me. I simply stare at the mug of hot chocolate as embarrassing tears drip down my cheeks. This alarms him, of course.
“Did something happen?” he asks, shifting into defensive-big-brother mode. “Did someone hurt you? Did you talk to your parents tonight?”
I want to laugh over how he correlates my parents and hurt together. Karl’s been around long enough to know that I am the least of their concerns as long as I toe the line they’ve drawn for me. I sniff, wiping at the tears with my robe’s sleeve. “I’m really confused, Karl. I don’t know what … who to turn to.”
“You can turn to me. You know that.”
Ironically, Karl’s been the best gift my parents ever forced on me. I try not to break down in front of him. “I hope you know that, even though I’ve only known you a short time, you’ve … well, I’m very grateful for you.”
He waves this off dismissively, but I know he cares a lot about me, too. “Does this have to do with your craft?”
I wipe my nose with my sleeve again. “Actually … it’s about Jonah.”
He repeats slowly, “Jonah.”
It’s funny what you notice when you’re upset. There’s a crack in one of the island’s tiles which looks like a winking cat. There’s also a stain in the grout resembling New Zealand. I focus on these small details as I say, “I overheard you and Kellan talking about him today. I … I know why Jonah’s upset.”
“Oh?”
My eyes shift to the mug. I’d made it in first grade—it says #1 Mom! It’s bizarre that she’s kept it all these years, considering I’ve never seen her use it once. I nod, tracing the words I used to hope would prove true. How nice it would be to sit here with my mother, pouring my heart out to her and getting advice, not because she feels it’s necessary to give, but because she loves me enough to want to help. Instead, I’m sitting here with a surrogate brother/father figure barely three years older than me who I’ve only known a couple months. Not that I’m ungrateful or anything, it’s just part of me really would like that mother-daughter experience.
Karl, unlike my mother, does seem to care enough to help, even though he’s clearly confused and a bit uncomfortable. “He’s talked to you about it?”
“
No.” I clear my throat. “We haven’t spoken to one another in over a year now.”
Slowly, “I wasn’t aware that you two have known each other that long.”
I finish the cocoa and push the mug away. “Longer.”
Karl’s clearly surprised.
“He’s upset,” I tell my friend, “because of me.”
“Upset.”
“Hurt,” I clarify quietly.
Jonah’s never specifically told me this, of course. All I have to go on is our shared history, the feelings I have for him and the ones I am confident he has for me, even now, even still, and the knowledge that he’d come to California for me only to be slapped in the face with me inexplicably dating his brother.
And then there’s Karl. His loyalty to Jonah and Kellan has long superseded what he feels toward me. I know I’m more to Karl than simply an assignment, but I also know that they are two of his oldest, dearest friends. But rather than judging me like I figure he would, or even should, Karl says instead, “What’s really going on, Chloe?”
The words pour out. “I’m confused. Scared. Unsure of what to do. Unsure of what’s going on.”
He drums his fingers silently against the tile. “Exactly how long have you and Jonah known each other?”
I look back down at the cat, still winking at me in mocking judgment. “All my life.”
“How long have you known Kellan?”
“Two months.”
“Did you meet Jonah in your dreams?”
My eyes fly up to meet his. He’s serious. Oh my goodness, he’s absolutely serious. How does he know?
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says calmly. Then he pulls out his cell phone. “I’m going to call a friend of mine in the Guard and ask her to come and have a visit with us.”
“Um … okay?”
“While I have my opinions and ideas about this,” he waves a hand at me, as if painting a picture of my troubles, “I think you might want to talk to Kiah Redrock first.”
“Who?”
“The best Dreamer I know,” he says as he scrolls through his contacts list.
chapter 21
Lizzie’s called the Cousins together, saying she has something important to share. Alex is annoyed to be pulled away from my father’s library; Meg is annoyed in solidarity with Alex, even though it’s obvious she’s dying of curiosity. Cora and I proceed with caution when Lizzie ushers us into my bedroom.
She’s atypically nervous and excited at the same time after shutting the door, talking fast while pacing restlessly from one end of the room to the other. “First off, I want you to all keep an open mind about what I’m about to say.”
Cora and I exchange an amused glance. Lizzie is so rarely rattled that it’s always fun to watch her when she is.
She blows out a breath that makes her wispy bangs float around.
“I … uh … finally hooked up with Graham.”
Meg snaps to attention—Joy or no, she adores gossip. She squeals, “When?”
Cora sticks a finger in one ear. “Damn, Meg. Calm down.” To Lizzie, she says, “This is why we’re behind a locked door? Because you and the Quarterback King finally gave into six years’ worth of sexual tension and flirting?”
“What’s this about sex?” Alex’s expression is hilariously thunderous. He likes to see himself, gangly and nerdy as he is, as our protector.
“There’s no sex,” Lizzie says. “We’re not talking about sex.”
“Pity,” Cora murmurs, stretching out on my bed. “It’d be nicer if we were.”
Lizzie ignores this. “As I was saying, Graham and I went to the movies last week, and … things happened. It was really good—nice, you know?”
“Nice?” Meg demands. “You make out with Graham, and it’s only nice?”
“The Joy has a point,” Cora says.
This gets more of Alex’s attention. “You two were making out at the movies?”
“Oh, for gods’ sakes!” Meg snaps. “If you want to know the details, listen the first time so we don’t have to keep repeating things!”
Lizzie, Cora, and I all stare at her. Meg never snaps at Alex, because snapping would be counterproductive to her never-ending attempt at seduction.
“Anyways,” Lizzie finally continues, “I realized that I really, really like him.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Cora mutters.
“And, I know he’s not a Magical, but … I really think it shouldn’t matter. It, in fact, doesn’t matter to me anymore. It’s stupid that we’re expected to only fall in love with another Magical.”
“Er,” Alex begins, but Meg shushes him.
Lizzie is near tears. “I love him. He’s a good guy. Smart, caring …”
“No need to list Graham’s qualities to us,” Cora says. “All of us dig the big lug, too.” This is surprisingly sweet and supportive coming from Cora.
Lizzie smiles gratefully. “And I think, that sometimes you can just tell if someone is right for you. In their kiss, you know? When it touches you in the heart and the toes and the tips of your fingers. Where you can feel it in every strand of hair and heartbeat.”
“Whoa,” Meg whispers, eyes wide.
“It’s all there with him. He’s it. He’s the one.”
Alex frowns. “You mean the one right now.”
But Lizzie shakes her head. “The one.”
He rolls his eyes. “Seventeen is too young to know about forever, unless you have a Connection.”
Alex knows about Connections? Since when?
“I know, Alex. I want to be with him. Without secrets.” Lizzie puts her hands out, as if she’s pleading some sort of case with us.
Secrets. Wait—what?
Meg beats me to the punch. “I’m so very glad that you’re finally with Graham, but when you say secrets, you can’t possibly mean telling him about us, right?”
Lizzie smoothes out imaginary wrinkles in her skirt. “I already have.”
There’s a moment in which all sound in the room dies, in which there’s no motion other than Lizzie’s elegant hands moving over the blue cotton of her skirt. And then, all four of us stand up, as if on cue.
“You told Graham?” The thunderous look Alex had earlier transforms into a murderous one. “Dammit, Lizzie, it’s forbidden!”
Her chin juts out. “It’s a stupid rule.”
“But a necessary one!” Cora exclaims, grabbing onto my arm like I’ll somehow keep her upright over the strain of surprise. “Think about what’s happened in the past to our kind, when it gets out what we are. Think about how many Magicals have been hunted, murdered!”
“This is Graham we’re talking about,” Lizzie insists, as if this is enough of an explanation.
Alex’s face turns dark red. “I don’t care if it’s the flipping Queen of England! If it’s discovered that you’ve blabbed, Lizzie, you will be disciplined. Do you understand that?”
Her lower lip trembles as her confidence fails. “I love him.”
“Did you even stop to think what will happen to Graham if it’s discovered he knows?” Alex persists. “You think the Council or Guard will let him be? Think again, Lizzie. Dammit! I thought you were the sensible one of this group!”
“Hey now,” Cora protests.
I go over to Lizzie and put my arm around her slender shoulders. Her eyes are glassy. “Everyone calm down for a moment. Does he know only about you?”
My heart drops out of my chest when she shakes her head.
“You told him about all of us?” Meg screeches.
Lizzie flinches against my arm. “I don’t want there to be secrets between us.”
Alex is shaking now. “You … I can’t …” And then he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Meg looks at the door and then at Lizzie, her eyes filled with accusations of betrayal. She turns on her heels and rushes out after Alex.
That leaves me and Cora behind. And Cora isn’t happy in the slightest. “He’s just a guy, Lizzie. A non we go to hig
h school with. When you move to Annar at the end of summer, he’ll be gone. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you want to have something with him until then. Go for it, I say. But you telling him about us? That’s bullshit! You’ve betrayed our kind over a guy. Worse, you betrayed the people who’ve always been here for you. You just sold us out. And if things go south with him, what then? You ever think of those consequences?”
The tears finally begin to fall. “I’m sorry, Cora. I really thought this was the right thing to do.”
“It was the very opposite of right.” And then Cora leaves, too.
Lizzie turns to me, lower lip still trembling, tears streaking her alabaster cheeks. Remembering my horrible choices lately, and of how I am in no place to judge, and how love is a difficult thing to control at times, I simply fold her into my arms.
As she sobs, I debate what to do about Graham. On one hand, he’s a good guy, and I’ve always been able to trust him in the past. On the other hand … well, who could blame him if he freaked out over learning about Magicals? For all I know, he could be secretly plotting to turn us over to the government for experimentation.
“Lizzie,” I say softly, stroking her hair, “I really think it’s important to talk to Graham and hear what he has to say about all of this.”
She wipes her nose. “Okay. If you think it’ll assure everyone.”
I know no one else will be willing to speak to him. Just minutes ago, they’d all been talking about Graham like he’s now the enemy. “It’ll be just me. But … if it’s okay, I’d like to ask Kellan to come over, too.”
Her eyes ask a silent question.
“I’m a Creator, and while I can build pretty much anything, I’m no good at sensing lies. Kellan can, though. He’ll be able to tell right away if Graham accepts what you’ve told him. And if he doesn’t … then …
Lizzie ends up crying even harder.
An hour later, Kellan and I discuss this in the backyard, outside of Karl and Lizzie’s earshot. I give him permission to take the memory through surging, so he can see exactly what Lizzie’s told me. He’s thoughtful for a long time before speaking. “The truth?”