by H. D. Gordon
If this were a movie, this would be the scene where a montage of kickass moves and fast paced music came on. Raven, Andrea and I scored a few more times before the coach called the game to an end, and even though I decided I performed the best, it would be a lie to say that I wouldn’t be sore as all heck in the morning.
Raven had taken some cheap shots, and they were sure to leave some bruises, but as I watched her limp off the field, her eyes burning with hatred, I thought that it had been worth it.
As we took off the ten pounds of equipment, Coach Sanders let the other girls who wanted to tryout play their game, and told us afterward that the list of those who made it, and what team they would be put on if they did, would be posted outside his office the following day.
Muddy and aching, I checked my watch to see that I was supposed to meet Thomas at the lair in thirty minutes. Some of the other girls who had tried out came over and complimented me on my awesomeness, and I accepted their praise modestly. Andrea Ramos stalked off as if I’d killed her kitty cat, but I ignored this as Sam sloshed through the mud to get to me.
“That looked painful,” Sam said as she followed me toward the locker room. She plucked a chuck of grass from my hair and raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re gonna want to shower before we head out.”
“You guess right, my friend.”
After I’d cleaned up and dressed myself, accepting more commendation from the girls in the locker room, I met Sam outside and we huddled close together under her umbrella as we walked toward our destination.
“How’d I do?” I asked, watching the rain flick off the tips of my shoes.
“You were the best on the field, for sure,” Sam replied. “But are you sure it’s wise to be on the team? You don’t think it draws too much attention? I mean, you’ve never played lacrosse before, have you?”
I shook my head. “No, the Brokers weren’t really big on leisurely activities.”
Sam nodded. “I figured, but if the coach or anyone else asks you, you probably should lie and say you’ve been playing since you were little. Other than not being human, that’s the only way you’d be as good as you were.”
I considered this and decided she was right. “But I can’t let Raven be on the team alone. Who knows what she’d do, and the counselor told me playing well on a team could get me a scholarship, and if I want to go to college, I’m gonna need one.”
We hadn’t talked much about this subject. I was a senior, and Sam was a sophomore, so she knew she’d be going it alone next year without me, and I knew her well enough to know that was not something she was looking forward to.
“So you are going to college, then?” Sam asked. “Have you decided which one?”
I shrugged, wrapping my arm around her as we continued to walk beneath her umbrella. “It’ll be one around here, so not to worry, my friend. I’m not leaving you.”
“Good, because it kinda sucked when I thought you were.”
I smiled over at her, giving her a little nudge with my shoulder. “What can I say? I’ve found a home with you, Samantha Shy.”
She grinned back at me. “Well, that’s where the heart is, right?”
CHAPTER 6
I hit the mat hard, making an involuntary half-grunt, half-growl escape me.
“You’re not focusing,” Thomas said, looking down at me from where I lie on the floor. “You need to focus.”
I rolled my eyes, accepting the hand he offered as he pulled me to my feet. “I told you, I had lacrosse tryouts today, and I’m already in pain and bruised up. Take it easy.”
Thomas gave his head a single shake, his hazel eyes as serious as the grave. When he looked like this, it was impossible not to see the soldier in him. “You never know when you’re going to have to fight, and chances are when you do, it won’t be at an opportune time, when you’re in peak condition and perfect health. You need to be able to handle yourself no matter what the circumstances. Again.”
I sighed, knowing he was right but getting sorer by the minute. “Do you have to hit so hard, though?” I asked, rubbing at my lower back.
Thomas only looked at me like this was a stupid question, and I supposed he was right. I would never tell him, but when we trained like this, he always reminded me a little of Nick Ramhart, my former trainer and one-time lover from the Peace Brokers.
We continued our sparring for another half an hour, and I settled into the autopilot state that I’d honed over the years as we followed this up with strength training and some high-intensity interval training. By the time we were finished, I was drenched in sweat and more than ready to call it quits.
“How did tryouts go?” Thomas asked, wiping some sweat from his handsome face. Sam sat over at the card table with Matt, their heads together over a textbook. When Thomas and I had begun this training a couple months ago, the two of them would watch us for hours in wonder, but now it had become the norm.
“Good, I guess,” I said, taking a long swig of water. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I made the team, so that’s good. You gonna come see me play?”
I don’t know why I asked this. It kind of just slipped out, and as soon as it did, and Thomas grew silent, I wished I hadn’t. Things had been so weird between us lately. Sometimes, like when we were training, and in the mornings and evenings when we would sit on the rooftop of our building together, it was like we’d known each other forever, as comfortable as could be. Other times… Well, it was not. I wasn’t sure if it was my age, or my otherness, but things were definitely strange since I’d made the choice to stay in Grant City, a choice that was definitely affected by Thomas Reid.
I was a heartbeat away from playing this off, from rescinding the invitation with some sort of joke, when Thomas asked, “Do you want me to?”
I told myself not to fidget, raising an eyebrow at him. “No, I just asked you because I don’t want you to. I like to partake in a lot of reverse psychology. I feel like it adds to my maturity.”
Thomas shook his head, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders and grabbing his motorcycle helmet from the weight bench where he’d left it. “Smartass,” he mumbled.
“Is that a yes?”
Before he could answer, the power went out in the warehouse, casting the place into shadows. I cocked my head, not picking up the familiar buzz of running electricity nearby at all. The silence that fell was complete and eerie.
I looked over at Sam, the fading light coming in through the windows just enough to see by. “What happened?” I asked.
Sam shrugged, going over to her bank of computers and pressing buttons. “Huh,” she said. “The power went out.”
Before I could respond with a Thank you, Captain Obvious, the lights flickered once and came back on, the buzz of electricity returning once more, as if it had never left.
“That was weird,” Matt said. “Must’ve been a little glitch in the power grid.” He scrolled through his phone. “I lost cell service for a second there, too.”
“I have to go to work, Aria,” Thomas said. “I’ll see you later.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Thomas gave me a half smile before slipping out without answering. A moment later, I heard his motorcycle roar to life and take off down the street.
Sam wandered over to me and rested her head against my shoulder. “He’s so hot and mysterious,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And I’m pretty sure he does that on purpose.”
“What a buttwipe.”
I smiled at her use of my word, nodding. “Yep. What a buttwipe.”
***
“Boom-shaka-laka!” Sam said, giving me a high five, grinning widely. “You made varsity. Congratulations!”
I pushed through the little crowd gathered outside Coach Sanders’s office and eyed the posted paper. Sure enough, there was my name, listed under the varsity lacrosse players.
“Yeah, congratulations, fairy,” said Raven, dampening my mood like a wet blanket. “Looks like we’re going to be teammat
es.”
“Great,” I said. “Wonderful.”
Some of the other girls who didn’t make it dropped their heads and their shoulders, their disappointment shining bright in their auras. It was a direct contrast to the moods of the girls who had made the team, and I felt a pang of guilt for taking a spot from someone else who may have stood a chance had I not tried out.
Once everyone had seen the results, just those who had made the team stood there, and Coach Sanders exited his office to address us. “All right, ladies,” he said. “You are the chosen. Congratulations. You should be proud. But now, the real fun begins. Practice is every morning at six am, and if you’re on time, you’re late. Be here, and be ready, because I’d like to take home a trophy again this year, and I think we’ve got a good shot at it if we can learn to work together.”
“Who’s the captain, coach?” Andrea said, her eyes running over the list. “It doesn’t say here who the captain is.”
Coach Sanders nodded, giving Andrea a somewhat sympathetic look. “I haven’t decided yet, Andrea. I want to watch some of our new players, but I’ll let you all know soon enough. A team isn’t made great by its captain, but by the synchronicity of all its parts.”
I didn’t have to read Andrea’s aura to see how much this angered her, or that she blamed me for this turn of events. I bit my lip and didn’t say anything. After this, we were dismissed.
Sam and I were heading off when Andrea caught up to us. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?” she whispered fiercely. “Why are you such a bitch?”
Sam responded before I could. “You’re the bitch, Andrea. Everyone knows that.”
Andrea’s face went so red that I was almost sure she was going to try to hit Sam, but with a few more mumbled curses, she stalked away, and damn if I didn’t find myself feeling sorry for her.
“Come on,” Sam said, pulling me away. “Don’t worry about her.”
I watched Andrea retreat, feeling like I was missing something important, but not knowing what. “Who said I’m worried about her?”
Sam offered me a crooked smile. “You forget how well I know you, Aria Fae. You got the bleeding-est heart I’ve ever known.”
I let the subject drop as we visited our lockers and grabbed what we would need to complete our homework, meeting back up in the foyer and heading out into the warm spring air.
The sun was out today, and I was grateful for it. It had been raining for a week straight, and that kind of weather never failed to make me a bit blue. I tilted my head back and let the sunshine wash over my face, mumbling appropriate responses to some computer-talk Sam was going on about. We followed the sea of students as people hailed cars at the curbside, walked in groups down the sidewalk, mounted bicycles and rolled off on skateboards.
Dropping my own board to the pavement, I hopped atop it and bit back a reprimand as Sam pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and set a flame to it.
“Go ahead,” she said, eyeing me out of the corner of her eyes. “Say it. Tell me these things will kill me. I know you want to.”
One side of my mouth pulled up. “Those things will kill you.”
Sam inhaled and blew out a puff. “Noted.”
“How’s your dad doing?” I asked, changing the subject. We’d been spending a lot of time at the lair, and since Mr. Shy had begun his new job, I hadn’t seen him much.
“He’s great,” Sam said. “Better than ever. He likes working at the Grant City Community Center, and he’s been offering help to addicts in his spare time. It’s really given him a purpose.” She looked over at me, her blue eyes serious beneath the thick lenses of her glasses. “You saved his life, doing what you did. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”
A few months ago, Phillip Shy had been a deeply depressed alcoholic, the loss of his wife—Sam’s mother—having taken a toll on him. Using my Fae Halfling ability, I’d pulled the grief from him, setting his soul on a path to obtain balance, and it had worked. It had certainly not been easy on my own emotional state, but I’d gotten through it, same as I’d always gotten through things.
“That’s good to hear,” I said, smiling full on now. “And there’s nothing to be repaid.” I winked at her. “It’s kinda what I do, right?”
Sam grinned. “Right.”
She said something else but I didn’t catch it. My ears had picked up something around the side of the school building. I dropped my foot off my skateboard, bringing myself to an abrupt stop and tilting my head toward the sound.
Then I was kicking my board up off the ground and running toward the commotion.
CHAPTER 7
Little tidbit about me: I have some serious soft spots when it comes to two kinds of people—children and the disabled. I always have, ever since I was only a child myself. There’s just something so innocent, so vulnerable about them that I’ve always found myself feeling the utmost of compassion and a fierce need to protect.
So when I rounded the corner of the school building, taking in the scene in the alley that sunny spring day, my blood went from warm to boiling in a record timeframe. It didn’t take a genius to see what was happening, and my body moved before my mind was even consciously aware of what it was doing.
Three large boys stood in a semicircle, standing over a smaller boy who was cowering on the concrete. I wasn’t surprised to see that one of these buttwipes was Will Landers, his jowly, pockmarked face lit up with the keen interest of someone who enjoys inflicting pain upon others.
The boy on the ground was Brian Brewbaker, and I knew his name because he was a shy kid with a mild form of autism who moved through the school like a ghost, trying his best not to interact or be noticed—which, of course, was exactly why I’d noticed him.
I’d made a point to greet Brian every time I saw him, and the first few times I’d done so, his eyes had widened and he had scurried away as though I was an alien who’d popped out from under his bed. He would always look back over his shoulder at me, though, and then I would wave and smile. His cheeks would go red and he would hurry off again.
This had gone on for nearly two months before Brian actually responded to my outreach. I had slowly but carefully pried at the shell he always wore around him, and in doing so, I knew that he was a sophomore and an only child. He was small for his age, skinny with hair that was cut a bit funny so that it stuck out every which way, and teeth that jutted out in a manner that made his lips perpetually parted. All in all, I thought he was adorable, and I enjoyed watching the way his unique aura would swirl with joy whenever he saw me.
Now, that beautiful aura that hung around him was streaked through with fear, and if someone were watching my own aura right then, I’m pretty sure it would’ve been bright red.
Tears cut tracks down Brian’s face, and he was clutching his Captain America lunch bag as though it were a shield that might protect him from the bullies looming over him.
My hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles ached. Brian Brewbaker was not the one who was going to need a shield.
All of this, the whole scene and the accompanying emotions, was processed in my mind in a matter of seconds, and before my better mind could take hold, I found myself slamming my foot into the back of Will Landers’ knees, buckling them instantly and sending him crashing down to the pavement.
Within the same moment, I’d wrapped my forearm around his throat, standing behind him, gripping it with my other hand and applying pressure with my shoulder and head. Will, as beefy as he was, was helpless against this move, and I was so angry that I didn’t even feel the clawing of his dirty nails as he tried in vain to remove my hold.
In a matter of seconds, he would pass out. If I didn’t release my hold after that, he would die.
Of course, I wasn’t going to kill the scumbag, but as my eyes flashed back to Brian, where he stared up wide-eyed from the concrete, I knew this bully needed to be taught a lesson—a lesson he would not soon forget.
The other two boys who’d been
standing with Will looked over at me in shock. None of them had heard me approach, and now here I was, a one-hundred and thirty pound girl with her arm around the throat of a boy easily twice my size, cutting his air off and making his face go red.
I would be lying if I said there was no satisfaction in my actions, despite the fact that they went against my better nature. I was, after all, half human.
“You’re killing him, you crazy bitch!” said one of the other boys, shifting on his feet, his eyes round as he tried to decide whether he should make a move.
My voice came out flat when I spoke, and it scared even me a little. “You gonna stop me?” I asked. “You like picking on people who can’t defend themselves?” I smiled, and whatever it looked like had the other two boys taking steps back, their auras revealing that they were heartbeats away from taking off down the alley. “Let’s try that with me.”
“Aria,” Sam said, her voice low with warning. She’d moved over to where Brian was still sitting on the concrete, and was pulling him gently to his feet, straightening out his clothes, which I noticed with a fresh rush of rage were ripped and bloodied.
I barely heard her. I’d all but forgotten she was there. All I could see was red. All I could feel was Will’s weakening pulse beneath his skin. He deserved this, a voice whispered in my head. He deserved every bit.
My eyes flicked between his two loser friends. “No?” I taunted. “Then, I think you better leave.”
The two young men exchanged glances, indecision playing over their faces as I kept hold of their stares. Then, with a choice that was both wise and cowardly, they took off, disappearing around the corner of the alley and leaving their friend in my grasp.
“Aria,” Sam repeated, but her voice sounded far away, insignificant.
I loosened my grip a touch, allowing a bit of air to reach Will’s lungs. He gasped, coughing, tried to get to his feet, but was forced to stay on his knees with my superior strength.
Increasing the pressure on his throat, I leaned down, bringing my lips close to his ear. “Listen to me carefully,” I told him. “You’re done being the way you are. You’re damaged. You’re broken, and it’s pathetic, because rather than trying to heal yourself, you only deepen your misery by hurting other people. But you’re done. Do you hear me?”