Sanguine Mountain

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  He explains that some of the Fold members requested it, and the Sire decided to put the decision to a vote. It would be selfish of me to tell him that he can’t leave me even if it endangers his life, so I don’t. The hole expands a little further. Wanting my friend safe should be my priority, but I want him close more. I do what Rocks does when I’m sad or upset. I rub my hand up and down his back. He glances at me sideways from under his hair, and I catch a glimpse of a smile.

  Tiff pokes her head around the doorway, and her eyes bug out of her head. She regains her composure before Rocks looks up. “Sorry.”

  We both stand. “We’re coming.” Rocks leaves my room first and Tiff hangs back.

  “I have an idea,” she informs me. I’m not even sure I really want to know.

  Back in the kitchen, the boys are eating while we take a movie bathroom break. “So what schools do you go to?” Tiff asks.

  Eyes flick back and forth nervously. Rocks answers, “We’re home-schooled together up in the mountains.”

  That gets the girls buzzing and questions fly, but Rocks handles them all in his stride. I notice how he manages not to lie. It’s impressive. He could teach the Phillips family a thing or two.

  “What a pity you boys miss out on the fun of high school dances. Surviving them is like a rite of passage,” Tiff adds. I freeze. She wouldn’t dare.

  Brandy and Lou explain to the boys about themed school dances and all that’s involved. Ezra asks if school dances are similar to the club Rocks has obviously told them about. My skin tingles with memories of dancing body to body with him in the darkness, feeling his heat, and his hips guiding mine in moves I never knew I could do. The mind reader must know, and when I steal a quick glance in his direction, he raises one eyebrow at me. Goodbye breathing.

  Tiff continues, “Oh, not as hot and steamy as those club encounters. I’ve seen what Rocks gets up to outside that club.” All eyes are on Tiff—the boys included. “Guess that’s what Connie is looking forward to with Parker in a few weeks time.” She winks at me, and then laughs, acting as though she hasn’t just dropped a bombshell.

  “Making out behind the gym is part of growing up,” Lou explains to the boys. “I should be so lucky.” They all look at Rocks. I want to punch both my friends—hard. I chance a look, but he angles away from me.

  “Guess we do miss out then,” he states, “since we don’t even have a gym.” His voice is cold. He stands tall. “Come on, we should be going.”

  Rocks leaves without saying goodbye to me. I retreat to my room, and my friends make it in before I can lock them out.

  “He likes you,” they all sing in chorus.

  “So?” The eel is back making my gut churn in an unnatural way. “Doesn’t mean anything is going to happen!”

  “I’m just giving you options,” Tiff informs me.

  “Tiff, this isn’t a romance novel!”

  * * * * *

  Thanksgiving is a total write-off. The memory of Rocks storming out with a cold look in his eyes haunts me. It wasn’t my fault, but guilt clings to me because maybe I should have told him I was going to the dance with Parker. If we really were just friends, then I would have told him. The fact that I didn’t bounces around in my head. I stay in bed as long as I can get away with. Mini needs entertaining while the mom I’m so glad I was given finishes preparing a feast fit for a King, Queen and all the royal court.

  To avoid interacting and to give me time to sort out this catastrophe in my head, I take Mini to the park. She’ll sit on a swing for hours so long as she’s being pushed. I take my position behind her cute little butt and launch her skywards. She squeals with delight, and the rhythm helps me to relax.

  The girls are all convinced he likes me.

  The girls don’t know crap about Rocks or the Camazotz.

  Rocks is pissed about the dance.

  The only thing that confuses me more is why I didn’t tell him myself. The guy I’m trying to bury my feelings for can change into a bat.

  A bat. A freaking bat!

  And the cherry on top is that my real father is a drug-dealing scumbag murderer.

  When did my life become such a freaking freak show?

  The cold November breeze flicks my ponytail across my face. I look around and notice that most of the other kids have left the park. A bird chirps from the shrub near the swings. A glance at my watch tells me I’m going to be in trouble. Grabbing Mini, I double-time it back home.

  As expected, there is a slightly irate woman waiting on the porch. “Where have you been? You didn’t take your cell. We’re supposed to eat in ten minutes, and you’re not even dressed. Give me Jasmine.”

  I skip showering and pull on my floral dress and cardigan, re-do my hair and race downstairs. I really didn’t plan on pissing her off today.

  Chad is seated at the table in his dinner jacket, no tie. I expect a frown, but instead he glances toward the doorway before speaking.

  “I know that kid never wants to come home once you get her on the swings,” he whispers across the most impressive feast. Table magazine should really be here to photograph it.

  “She’d sit there all day and night if you let her,” I say, waving my own olive branch.

  We sit in silence, and the aromas of each dish slowly mingle in the air. Maybe I am a little hungry after all.

  Kelly appears with Mini in her new dress. It’s apple green with white trim, and I know it will be covered in food shortly. “Pie,” she says, pointing her chubby finger at the golden disc in the center of the table.

  Kelly leaves and reappears carrying the fattest turkey in history. We’ll be eating that thing for a week. Once it’s safely joined the other masses of food, she takes her seat.

  We give thanks. Chad starts and lists all of the things in this world he’s thankful for from the past twelve months. My eyes dart to his when he lists me as a precious gift. Kelly continues and I’m not surprised that Rocks has made the cut this year. She’s sorry he couldn’t be with us to share our Thanksgiving meal, but grateful that he has blessed our lives. I listen to the rest of her list. Halfway through, I catch myself about to make a mental snarky comment. But she doesn’t deserve it. I’m a liar as well. And her lies, at least, were for my protection. That’s the thing about lies—they’re evil and insidious. They remind me of weeds. No garden is without them, but if you’re not careful, they’ll take over and choke out everything else. Some weeds even look like flowers and will fool you into believing they’re the real deal.

  I can’t speak. I don’t know where to begin. Am I thankful for that fateful letter that has changed the way I see my whole world? Am I still the girl that sat at this very table last year? How can I be when all I’ve done is lie lately? My eyes fall on Mini. Her innocent, sweet self is oblivious to the evil in our world. She smiles, baring her handful of teeth, and it melts even my tainted heart.

  I understand why my parents wanted to spare me the horror of my real identity, but I wish they would’ve trusted me with the truth. I think over my actions and attitude for the last four months and know I've probably confirmed to them that I'm too immature to handle it.

  “Mom. Dad. I’m thankful for you both.” Those words are hard to spit out considering the circumstances. Two tears run down my cheek before I can stop them because it’s actually the truth. “I’m sorry—” I want to say for all the lies, but don’t “—but I am thankful for you.” I want to ask when they think I’ll be old enough to handle the truth, but don’t. Instead I get up and walk to Mom’s side. I hug her over her shoulders from behind.

  “Oh, darling. You know I love you too.” She holds my arms.

  Next is Dad but he stands up and hugs me tight to his chest. His cologne is familiar, and I realize just how long it’s been since I’ve been close enough to smell it on him. I kiss Mini’s head and return to my seat, wiping my eyes.

  This meal is going to be a Phillips’ affair. The Hendersens and Ascaris are not welcome here today. I want a break from feeli
ng lost, angry, and unsure. I want to be the girl who sat here last year with not a care in the world.

  * * * * *

  Rocks has been ‘busy’ all week. He won’t reply to my texts. I thought we’d be hanging out heaps during the day since he’s safe from nocturnal owls, but he doesn’t show once. My vacation sucks. My guilt over the dance has morphed into anger. How dare he be pissed off at me? It’s not like he’s ever asked me on a date. I need to get out of the house.

  Friday, Kelly has to work so I’m stuck with Mini. I pack her into my car, and we hit the road. My gut is screaming at me that this is the worst idea I’ve ever had, but I ignore it. I’m not listening. I know what I need to do, and I’m doing it. I’m closing the door on the chapter of my life that I never should have opened in the first place.

  Pulling up outside the run down house, I have a moment of doubt. This might be stupid, but I’m here now. I pull Mini onto my hip and we head up the path.

  Josie is not amused. “I told you to forget about me,” she hisses through the screen door.

  Holding up the photograph, gains me entrance. In the lounge, Mini is happy on the floor with her books. Josie sits perched on the edge of the chair, just like last time, nursing a cup of tea.

  “I knew you’d taken it. I just couldn’t work out how,” she says.

  I look away. “I’m sorry. He did it for me, but I’ve come to return it. I don’t want it.”

  She takes the photo and sips her tea. A cold breeze flows through the open window with the promise of fresh air. I eye the stale carpet and wish I’d brought Mini’s baby blanket.

  “You know then?”

  I nod.

  “I told you not to dig, didn’t I? Not exactly the fairytale I’m sure you told yourself was waiting for you.”

  “Look, I don’t need a lecture from you. You started all this with that stupid letter. I know now, and yes, I wish I didn’t, but I do. So it’s done. I’m the spawn of Satan. I get it, thanks, Mom!” I move to pick up Mini. I won’t stand an ear bashing from this woman who didn’t want me. I’ll accept lectures from Kelly because she at least has better taste in men.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry. He’s—” she starts.

  “Don’t!” I stare at her. “Don’t you dare start to tell me stuff about him now. I don’t care if he’s got a caring side that you fell in love with. He’s an evil monster. How could you?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  I. HATE. THOSE. TWO. WORDS.

  “No, it’s not. There is good, and there is evil. And he is evil. Pretty simple. But don’t worry because I will be staying as far away from Dad as possible.”

  She sighs. “Thank, God. He’s more trouble than even you can imagine. Forget he exists.”

  “Already have.” I pick up Mini and gather the books around her one-handed.

  Josie opens the door and peers out before she lets us pass. Is she expecting to see someone lurking in her overgrown weed bed? The only other vehicle is a telecommunications van across the wide street. Digging up ghosts even spooks adults, I’m learning.

  The whole drive home I memorize and catalogue the things I noticed about Josie Hendersen. I know I’m never going to lay eyes on her again, and even though I’m disappointed about whom my real mother is, I don’t want to forget a single detail. She’s my flesh and blood, even if I’ll never admit that fact publicly.

  Mini dozes for most of the way. I hate waking her before she’s had enough sleep so I drive slowly down the back streets near our house. I figure each extra minute of rest is a bonus for her. A block from my house, the van in my rearview mirror is wearing my patience thin. I pull over briefly to let it pass and the sound of my indicator blinking on and off must wake her.

  “Truck,” Mini says from behind me.

  “It’s a van. If only they would teach their drivers not to tailgate, huh, cutie?”

  15.

  Piercing

  The trip to return the photo has me mad—raging bull on the streets of Spain mad. Josie’s lips were sealed shut when I wanted to know who my father was, but the instant I discover that fact on my own, she’s ready to tell me all about him. No thanks. I know too much already, but the hypocrisy is not missed.

  Bun Lovin’ Barn is the last place I feel like being. The sight of Tiff has me breathing fire. She never should have mentioned the dance or Parker. That choice should’ve been mine. I can’t even think about Rocks. That hurts too much. The boy with perfect manners would never leave without saying goodbye—unless he was angry. But we aren’t dating. I’m free to go to the dance with whomever I please. I think about having asked Rocks instead and what my night would entail. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before opening the wiener pot. The tongs miss every dog I try to grab—slippery suckers. Once I have one firmly in the bun, I slam the lid. It clangs in the confines of the van.

  “Don’t be mad,” Tiff says, loading up her dog with onions.

  “I didn’t wreck your vacation,” I say to her quietly.

  “I didn’t wreck it.”

  “Well, why has he been avoiding me?” I eye her quickly before handing the dog out the counter window. The look on my customer’s face tells me my smile is more menacing than friendly.

  “He’s just jealous. He’ll come around.”

  “You make him jealous, and I pay the price. Hardly fair!” Having stewed on it all week, I’m mad at myself. If I’d told him about the stupid dance, he wouldn’t be avoiding me.

  Once our rush is over, I retreat to the back corner of the van and check Twitter.

  “Oh shit!” Tiff says.

  I’m not going to fall for her diversionary tactics to get me back on her side again. I need to focus my anger because she started this whole mess. I don’t care how many hot guys she can see.

  She bites her nail and keeps glancing at me and then out the window.

  “Stay there,” she says. That’s it. I’m looking now. Joining her at the window, I scan the street. A few drunks are milling about, but nothing out of the ordinary. Her line of sight zeros in on the club.

  “Sugarplums!” I turn away. That is not a sight I want to witness. I squeeze my eyes shut as tight possible.

  The momentary flash of Rocks in the dark alley making out with some blonde girl is burned into my eyelids.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “Happy now?” I return to my corner.

  Tiff follows. “It’s just stupid boy jealousy.”

  “Yeah, he’s so jealous of me that he needs to measure her tonsils with his tongue.” Tiff winces and walks back to the window to serve a waiting customer. I press my nails into my palms as hard as I can. I will not cry.

  When customers swamp Tiff, I’m forced to help her. My eyes are drawn like magnets to the alley, but I force them on the customer at the window and nowhere else. I focus on buns and dogs and condiments. The smell of sauerkraut hits me as I heap spoonfuls across a hot dog.

  The next customer enters my tunnel vision. Rocks. Tiff is hovering, and I know she will save me from serving him if I give her any sign at all.

  “What do you want?” I cross my arms.

  “Whatever you’ll give me, I guess. That’s how this works, isn’t it?” His eyes are dark.

  I lean closer to the window. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I hiss. The guy next in line frowns at me.

  He shrugs. “You tell me.”

  There’s a fire incinerating my internal organs. My blood is boiling, my hands are shaking, and I imagine my eyes are glowing bright red. I narrow them at him.

  “Fine.” I grab a bun and slap a dog in it before shoving it out the window. It’s the bare minimum I can get away with. “That’s three dollars!”

  Rocks halts and his gaze burns back at me. “Fine!” He pulls out his wallet. Inside it, there’s a photo of us sharing a happier moment, and that memory cuts me to the core. He lets the bills fall to the counter and storms off.

  Watching his retre
ating back makes me feel like I’m Mount Vesuvius in the making. If I could get away with hurling hot dogs and squirting sauce at every customer in line, I would. Instead, I leave Tiff with the line of hungry clubbers and race outside. Rocks is around the back eating his poor man’s dog. My feet stomp across the sidewalk.

  “Listen, I know who my stupid parents are now, so I won’t be needing your help any longer. Thanks and goodbye!” The words burn my throat, but I’m not going to watch him with other girls. The Camazotz plagued me enough without random girls from the club joining the equation.

  He stops eating. “What?” I’m waiting for a yelling match, but he just frowns. It just pisses me off even more. I want to throw something.

  “You and me are done. I see you’ve found a new aeronaught to teach you things, so get her to bring you into this century.”

  “Connie—”

  “Rocks, we’re done.”

  “But we’re friends.” I can’t look in his eyes. All I see behind mine is him kissing that girl. Kissing the girl that should be me. How did we end up here? I like him. The girls are convinced he likes me, but here we are nonetheless.

  “Friends come and go. There’s no blood between us,” I spit. “Go home. I don’t need your escort services any longer!”

  The van shakes from my rage as I slam the door. Tiff has started our clean up routine. The serving window is closed, and I don’t fight the tears that spill down my cheeks. I ignore the fact that I’m crying, and after one glare, Tiff follows suit.

  The walk home is freezing. Tiff offered me a lift, but she’s on my sugarplums list, and I hope the walk will calm my filthy temper. I need to remember to bring a thicker jacket. My spine tingles and I rub my folded arms. I spare a glance over my shoulder. Dad would kill me if he knew I was walking home alone—again. Halfway there, I catch the outline of a bat under the streetlight. I’m not alone. The tears from earlier threaten to start again, but I will not cry in front of him. I hold my head up and double my stride.