by Sarah Biglow
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you know anything about a guy named Rhys Holden. Might be a friend of Dad’s.”
Mum’s face disappeared from the video screen and it sounded like she was searching for something to drink because I could just make out the sound of her clearing her throat. She finally appeared back on the screen. Even in the distorted light from the video connection I could tell she’d gone pale. “He is an old friend of your father’s. I can’t say I was ever fond of the man. I didn’t know they were still in contact. Has he been over to the house?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of. Why? Should he not come over?”
She laughed a high, shrill sound. I cringed and shrunk back despite the distance separating us. Mum took several short breaths and her face regained a little color. “I … he’s a very powerful man. I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”
“And what idea’s that, Mum?” Mr. Holden had to be like my father and stepmother. I couldn’t exactly say that to Mum because my father had told me to keep my post-puberty ability a secret and on this subject I wasn’t stupid enough to disobey him.
“I’m just not his biggest fan, that’s all. It’s complicated and not something you should worry about. But if he does come round, be polite. And don’t embarrass your father.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay. I won’t do anything if he shows up. I promise.”
“Good.” She paused and looked off camera. “Listen, love, I’ve got to run. We’ll talk again soon, all right? And we’ll see about spending part of the holiday together.”
“Love you, Mum. Bye.”
The connection went black and I closed the program. Figuring out Mr. Holden’s godly identity seemed a logical next step. It might help put the pieces of this bizarre puzzle together. Unfortunately, my understanding of the Olympian hierarchy extended as far as knowing my father wasn’t ever going to buddy-buddy with Zeus or Poseidon. So that was two fewer options I needed to consider. The more I thought about it the more certain I became that this had to do with Abbie being a Muse. Somehow, I had to warn her.
5
At five o’clock on Saturday evening, I waited by the front door, overnight bag on the floor by my feet. The clock in the living room rang out five chimes and, as the last echo faded, a car horn honked.
"Remember, you're still grounded," Mom called from the kitchen.
That’s what she thinks. "I know.” Opening the door, I raced down the driveway to Dad’s car.
"Hi Honey. How are you doing?" He gave me a sideways hug as soon as I closed the passenger side door.
"Hi, Dad. I’m okay. Mom probably already told you I’m grounded."
He nodded. "We’ll talk about that later. How about we order something for dinner? What do you feel like?"
“I don’t know. We could grab some Chinese. I could use some good fortunes.”
“Chinese it is.”
Settling into the passenger seat, Dad made the short drive to our usual stop-off for Chinese takeout. He didn’t even ask what I wanted once we were inside, our routine was that practiced. I rested my elbows on the counter while we waited for our order to come up. Faint sounds of waterfalls and wind chimes filtered through the sound system as customers sat at the booths that lined the far wall.
“So … anything fun you want to do this weekend?” Dad tapped the edge of his credit card on the counter while we waited to pay.
I laughed. Fun and grounded didn’t usually go together. “Not really. Mom would flip if she knew I went online or anything.”
“Well, that’s how your mother is.”
“She’d probably be pissed if she knew you didn’t really care about me being grounded.”
“Honey, I do care and I think I may have to enforce the no internet. Abbie, we can’t ignore that you got suspended.”
I spun so my back was to the register. “But Dad, I won’t go on for long. I just have one thing to check on Facebook. Please, it’s super important.”
He arched an eyebrow. “How important?”
Life altering but I couldn’t tell him the truth about Liam. Not yet. So I lied, again. “It’s for a school project.”
“We’ll see when we get home.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He paid for dinner and we headed on our way toward his apartment. He eased the car to a stop at a red light. “I was thinking maybe we could watch some movies tonight and just relax.”
“Sure. That sounds fun.”
Finally at Dad’s place, I tossed my bag in the spare room while he got plates and reusable chopsticks. We settled side by side on the couch and flipped through the On Demand movie listings, finally settling on Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. I’d wanted to read the book last summer but Mom vetoed the choice, saying it was too violent. If I lived with Dad full time, he wouldn’t have cared what I read. He’d think it was great that I was busy with a book instead of hooked up to a computer.
The opening credits rolled and I dumped some fried rice onto my plate. “Mom would kill us both if she knew we were watching this. I mean it’s rated R.”
Dad took the container of rice and passed over some General Gao’s Chicken. “That’s why you aren’t watching it alone. Besides, you’re old enough to handle a little gory stuff.”
“And sex.” I smirked.
He shook his head and a hint of pink colored his cheeks. “Don’t remind me. Sometimes I can’t stand you growing up.” He took a bite of chicken and looked glanced sideways at me. “So … your mom told me you’re seeing a psychologist this week.”
Taking longer than necessary to chew my mouthful of rice, I tried to formulate an answer. Mom had broken the news shortly before Dad picked me up. The topic shift dampened the father-daughter bonding mood. Finally, I said, “She just told me.”
Dad hit pause on the movie. “I know you don’t like the idea but it might be a good thing to have someone who isn’t me or your mom to confide in. Please, give it a chance.”
I gave him the side-eye. “Did Mom put you up to that?”
He shook his head. “Your mom and I have our differences but we both want what’s best for you. And right now it sounds like talking to an outside observer is the best thing. Honey, you don’t have any friends anymore. You’re isolating yourself and, honestly, it scares me.”
The chopsticks fell from my fingers. I’d never heard my dad admit he was scared of anything. I opened my mouth, on the verge of admitting I was scared too, but stopped myself. I should have been able to confide in him that every time something happened I worried I’d never speak to anyone ever again but it was my drama to carry around. Not his. “I know I’ve been distant from people but a lot of the people I used to be friends with aren’t in the same classes anymore and if they still wanted to be my friend, they could make an effort.”
He pushed the plates out of the way and pulled me into a tight bear hug. I let myself melt against his chest and soak up the fact that, even if I couldn’t say anything, Dad would always be there for me. We stayed that way for a while longer. Finally, he leaned back and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Promise me you will give this a try, okay? Not for me or your mom. For yourself.”
“Promise.”
He nodded and quirked a half smile that made only one set of crow’s feet around his eyes crinkle. “Ready for the movie?”
“Absolutely.”
I missed being able to just hang out with Dad whenever I wanted. Our time together was never enough. The movie turned out to be pretty terrible, even if it did have a few funny moments. The credits rolled a little before 10:30. Feigning a yawn even though I wasn’t really tired, I hoped Dad would go to bed early so I could sneak onto his computer unnoticed. I cleaned off my plate, stuck it in the dishwasher and headed for my room. Dad kissed my forehead like he had when I was little. “Night.” He pulled the door shut behind him.
Climbing beneath the covers, I closed my eyes and waited for the sounds of th
e apartment to settle. I tracked the noises of water running in the kitchen and the clink of dishes reverberated as if Dad and I were standing side by side. The clock face on the night table glowed faintly as eleven o’clock came and went.
Taking a chance, I eased my bedroom door open. Dad’s bedroom door was closed but I pressed my ear to the wood, hoping for snoring. Nothing. Swallowing my nerves, I tiptoed to the living room area and opened Dad’s laptop. The screen flickered to life and presented the login button. For a split second failure taunted me but the welcome screen appeared and faded to the desktop. Thank God for no password.
Wasting no time, I logged on to Facebook. I had a waiting message and when I clicked it, one line from Liam popped up in the messenger. He wanted to make sure I was okay. My heart beat a little faster and my palms began to sweat when I spotted the little green circle by his name indicating he was online. I bit back an excited squeal as I sent off a message.
Abbie Rollands: Uh, hey Liam, are you there?
All of my attention zeroed in on the chat window. My fingers were now damp with sweat and my nerves wound tight. I wished I could take back the world’s lamest first words ever. Of course he was there if it said he was online. My focus was so intense I fell out of the chair at the backfire of a car exhaust out on the street. Settling back in the chair, I nearly fell out again.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Hey! I didn’t think you would be online.
He had actually responded. Drying my hands on my pajama shorts, I typed a response.
Abbie Rollands: I wasn’t expecting you to be on either, actually.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Not much to do really. I heard you got suspended.
I groaned. Did everyone at school know?
Abbie Rollands: You did?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Yeah. I overheard Ms. Eisner and Mr. McManus talking about it after school. You didn’t deserve that.
His support brought a smile to my face.
Abbie Rollands: Thanks. I guess Principal Tannery just got tired of seeing me all the time.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: But you’ll be back soon, right?
Abbie Rollands: Wednesday I guess. If I survive that long. My mom took away my computer and phone. It is so unfair.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Bet she doesn’t know you’re on now then.
Abbie Rollands: Nope. Dad doesn’t either. I waited for him to go to sleep. I’m with him for the weekend.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Didn’t know your parents were split up.
Abbie Rollands: Last year. Mom said they just drifted apart. Whatever that means. What about you?
The message registered as being seen at 11:09pm and stayed there for a solid ninety seconds before it said he was typing again.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: My mum and dad split about seven years ago. Mum went back to England and Dad remarried. More typing and then: Let’s talk about something else. Parents are depressing.
I chuckled at the fact that I was actually talking to my dream boyfriend and we actually had something in common.
Abbie Rollands: Thanks for working with me in English the other day. You didn’t have to. And you totally didn’t have to offer to study for finals with me.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I like working with you. You’re smart. People would notice that if they stopped acting like such dicks all the time.
Abbie Rollands: You didn’t get in trouble with Ms. Eisner did you?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Nah. She didn’t even notice I said anything. Sometimes I think people forget I’m there.
I doubted anyone could ignore or forget Liam. Flexing my fingers, I sent off another response. Abbie Rollands: I wish I had that ability. Then maybe people would stop blaming me for stuff. I swear I don’t tell them to do or say anything.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I know you don’t.
How could he know that I didn’t actually tell people to do the things they did? He wasn’t there all the time. Another message from him cut off that line of thought.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I miss you being there. At least when stuff happens, it makes class less boring.
This time the chuckle developed into a full-on giggle.
Abbie Rollands: Seriously?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Yeah. Besides, I think you’re cool.
Satisfying warmth settled in my belly at his compliment.
Abbie Rollands: Thanks.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: So how long did you get grounded for?
Abbie Rollands: Two weeks. So even when I’m back in school, I don’t know how often I can get on and chat. Or text.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: We can have lunch. And hang out over the summer. Have you seen Doctor Who?
Abbie Rollands: Um … no.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: You know what it is, right?
I snorted. Abbie Rollands: I don’t live under a rock. The guy who plays him … the guy with the glasses is kind of cute. You know; the guy who was in the Harry Potter movie.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: David Tennant. He’s brilliant and my favorite Doctor, actually. They’ve had two other blokes since him, though. We are definitely hanging out and having a marathon. You’re gonna love it.
Abbie Rollands: I’d like that. Hey, do you think you could do me a favor?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Anything.
Abbie Rollands: Could I borrow your notes when I get back?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Sure. I was thinking it was something actually important.
Abbie Rollands: Like what?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Like rescuing you from grounded-land.
Abbie Rollands: I don’t think my mom would like that.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I mean it, though. Don’t take this as creepy but I want to get to know you more.
Abbie Rollands: I’d like that too. You probably think I’m a complete dork for saying that.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: If you’re a dork then so am I. And I wouldn’t want to be one with anybody else.
A tiny yip of glee escaped and I jumped from the chair and danced a jig. Liam had all but confirmed he had feelings for me too. And he wanted to eat lunch and hang out all summer. I had an almost-boyfriend. As the quiet of the room settled around me, I felt the sudden urge to broach the subject of seeing a psychologist.
Abbie Rollands: So, um, I know this is out of nowhere but my mom is making me see a psychologist. I think Principal Tannery made it a condition of my suspension or something. I have no idea what to expect. Please don’t tell anyone.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I won’t. Promise.
Abbie Rollands: Have you ever talked to one before?
It showed he was typing for a solid minute.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: My father tried when I was younger. I went once and then never again.
Abbie Rollands: My first appointment is on Tuesday. What am I supposed to say to her?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: My advice is just tell her what you’re comfortable telling her.
I leaned back in the chair and stared at the screen. It was entirely possible Liam’s experience with a shrink had been terrible and he was biased. But something in the back of my brain said he was on to something. Still, a small part of me wanted to stop feeling like an outcast.
Abbie Rolland: Yeah. But maybe I should actually try to talk to her though. What if my parents are right and I just need someone not involved in my life to listen? It may not seem like it but sometimes I just feel … alone.
I hadn’t meant to admit that to Liam. Things had been going so well and now I’d probably scared him off. His message appeared on the screen.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I’m sorry you feel that way. I don’t know if it helps at all but you can always talk to me. I don’t want you to feel alone. It’s hard to explain but I think I get where you’re coming from. Just be careful what you talk about. Sometimes it is safer to keep private things private.
Abbie Rollands: I’ll remember that.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Just be careful is all I’m saying.
Abbie Rollands: Can I ask you something?
Liam Su
llivan-Gray: Anything.
Abbie Rollands: We’ve worked together a couple times now. How come you don’t ever do weird stuff when you’re around me?
His response came faster than I expected.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: I don’t know. I just don’t feel the need to act out and be an ass. Hey, can I ask you something?
Abbie Rollands: Okay.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: This is going to sound totally weird but do you ever notice if people do anything or say something specific before stuff happens in class?
A flash of panic ran through my body, making me uncomfortably warm. How could he possibly know about the spark? Trying to push the panic down, I lied.
Abbie Rollands: Not really. Why?
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Never mind. I just thought maybe you might have noticed something is all.
Abbie Rollands: My mom says I hum and that’s what gets me in trouble. Which I guess is true, even if I’ve hummed my entire life and it was never a disruption before.
Something about the direction of the conversation sent up red flags in my brain. I hadn’t mentioned the spark to anyone before and Liam had never indicated he had noticed anything like it. So why was he asking about it now? His next message popped onto the screen.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Hey, I should go. If you can get online again after your appointment, let me know how it went. And remember; only tell her what you’re comfortable with.
Abbie Rollands: I will. Bye.
Liam Sullivan-Gray: Have a good night, Abbie.
His little green circle disappeared and I closed down the chat. What had started out as a pretty normal conversation had taken a turn for the strange. I wanted to believe that Liam cared about me and that his questions were just his way of making sure I knew I had a friend. Trying the best I could to shake off the unease, I snuck back to bed.
6
Tuesday morning came far too soon. I’d tried not to obsess over Liam’s bizarre warning but it filled my dreams. I forced breakfast down and followed Mom out to the car. By the time we were on the road, a solid mass had settled in my stomach and it hurt to breathe. Ten minutes later, Mom pulled into the parking lot of a big, brick building and cut the engine, setting my nerves alight with anxiety and anticipation. I followed her inside. "Where are we going?"