by Debbie Kump
We sat in silence for a while, watching one surfer after another challenge the immense waves. The breaking crests swallowed up a few, engulfing them in a sea of white. One actually rode through what Sully called the “tube” and came out unscathed on the other side with his fists raised in jubilation.
Then Sully sighed as if something weighed heavy on his mind. In a small voice, he said, “By the way, sorry about the other morning.”
I forced my attention away from the next rider’s attempt at tackling the massive incoming wave to mutter a confused, “Huh?”
Sully sighed again, deeper this time. “Y’know, when Micah and I laughed at you.”
Though they definitely infuriated me, how could I possibly expect anyone to believe my tale? I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut in the first place, but I didn’t. Now it seemed in my best interest to forget the incident entirely and focus on bigger concerns. “Don’t worry about it. It’s in the past.”
“Still, we shouldn’t have laughed.”
I looked at him, puzzled. Since when did Sully sound so genuinely concerned about his actions? “Did Celia put you up to this?”
“The apology, yes. But not the kidnapping,” he admitted sheepishly. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No…it’s actually nice to get away for a change. To forget…” I trailed off as a finger of clouds obscured the sun. The wind carried a sudden nip that sent a shiver down my spine. As amazing as it appeared, sitting here atop this stunning panorama, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder at the clouds building in the south. I hoped this weather pattern was typical for this time of year.
Because I couldn’t help but believe otherwise.
“Are you cold?” Sully asked, snapping me from my thoughts.
I shook my head. Not cold. More like frightened.
Behind us, the clouds collected over the mountaintops and obscured their peaks in a thick layer of fog.
Following my gaze, Sully frowned. “Looks like rain. I should probably get you home.”
“Yeah. Probably,” I agreed, surprisingly disappointed by the prospect all of a sudden.
Climbing back over the railing and onto the bike, I slipped my arms through my backpack straps and pulled the helmet down over my head, then adjusted my grip around Sully’s waist. Perhaps the incoming clouds—or perhaps the disappointment of returning home to Micah and Tessa—made the ride back seem twice as long. By the time we reached our street, I shivered with fear. I could forget about the Elementals far more easily with the storm stationed hundreds of miles away instead of on the brink of town.
When Sully stopped in the driveway, I pulled off the helmet and said, “Thanks for picking me up today.” I surprised myself at how well I masked the fear in my voice.
Shooting me a wide grin, he nodded. “Not a problem. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Sure,” I replied, wondering how many tomorrows remained.
With a quick wave, he backed down the driveway and into the street. Even after his bike disappeared from view, I could still hear the rumble of his engine roaring down the road.
I glanced back up at the sky, growing gray and cold with the approaching storm. I shivered again before heading inside. Thankfully, Celia and Cam hadn’t returned yet. At least I wouldn’t get in trouble for skipping out again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After school the next day, Micah slammed open the front door and dumped his backpack in the middle of the kitchen floor, grumbling, “I can’t believe I got a 67 on my French test.”
“At least it’s passing,” I said.
Micah shot me a spiteful look. Why couldn’t I remember to hold my tongue?
“You don’t understand,” he griped and paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. “Mom’s gonna freak. She always does when I get less than a B. You know why?”
I looked at him blankly.
“College,” he sighed. “Everything’s always about college with her.”
“She just wants the best for you.”
He rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the encouragement.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Well, you can stop right there.” He opened the fridge door and yanked out a half-gallon of milk, drinking right from the container. I crinkled my nose in disgust and made a mental note to have a glass of water at dinner tonight.
I settled down at the table and opened my backpack. Last I heard, a meteorologist said the super storm had stalled indefinitely along the coast, making me question if the weather was truly a result of the Elementals or merely a natural phenomenon. So while I waited a little longer for my cast to come off, the ruse continued of blending in to remain hidden. Which meant I had a heap of work to complete…again. And if I didn’t start now, I’d never get through it all before I crashed tonight. With a sigh, I cracked open my History book and pulled the lengthy assignment from my folder on President Woodrow Wilson’s persuasion of the Democratic Congress to pass the Clayton Antitrust Act and create an income tax as home front reform in the years leading up to World War I.
I frowned. Sounded thrilling.
Micah closed the fridge door with a bang. I looked at him in surprise and noticed his eyes lighting up. “I almost forgot,” he said, suddenly optimistic. “How’d you do?”
He said this as if I earned a lower grade, perhaps Celia wouldn’t come down so hard on him.
I shrugged. “I dunno,” and returned my attention to the book. Anything to change the subject. Or avoid it altogether.
“Aw, c’mon. Tell me,” he prodded as he pulled out the chair next to me and turned it around backward, straddling like a rider on a horse. “Seriously. What’d you get? It’s not like Celia’s gonna ground you or anything. You just got here. She’ll understand you’ve gotta catch up first.”
I shook my head. “Drop it, okay?”
“Come on. Tell me.” He reached for the folder lying under my textbook. “Is it in here?” He quickly slipped my papers from the folder and sorted through them.
“Hey, give that back,” I cried, trying to grab my French test. A wide grin formed across his face as he scooted his chair away from the table, safely out of reach.
I flew out of my seat to snatch the sheet, but he slid off his chair and dodged one way then the other through the kitchen, giggling to himself in an irritating way.
Conflicted emotions of annoyance and amusement flooded my mind, unsuccessfully struggling to regain control of my test paper. When I grabbed his wrist, he wriggled free. When I reached around his back, he spun the other way. I wanted to be mad at him but found it impossible when he snickered in such a lighthearted way. Instead, I found myself joining in with his laughter while attempting to wrestle the test from his grasp. Only each time, the little weasel managed to escape. How could someone be so infuriating and so comical at the same time?
Finally, I managed a strong lock on one of his forearms, twisting it high behind his back. With my cast, I reached around his chest. “Ha, ha,” I taunted and yanked my wrinkled test from his hand when Celia marched through the door with Cameron.
My smile instantly faded. So did Micah’s. Sheepishly, I released my grip and slid my cast out from around his chest, and then took a huge step away from him.
Celia gave us a sideways look.
“Micah just wanted to see my French score,” I said flatly, passing him my crumpled test.
Micah smoothed out the paper, exclaiming, “A 92! What the…? But how’d you…? You weren’t even here for the whole unit.”
I shrugged. I should’ve gotten a 100 percent since I used to live in France. But Sixteenth Century Renaissance French sounded far different from the modern conversational French Mrs. Bernard taught us in school.
“And how’d you do on that test?” Celia turned toward Micah. She set her purse and keys on the kitchen, then poised her hands on her hips, waiting.
His playful demeanor quickly faded. “Not as good as Jordan, that’s for sure.”
“How ‘not
as good?’” she asked while her fingers formed quotation marks in the air.
He passed his test to Celia. Her amused smile quickly wilted.
“Okay, young man. You know the drill. Hand it over.”
“C’mon, Mom. It’s not like—”
She stuck out her hand. Waiting.
Micah protested, “But I didn’t—”
“Now.”
Micah pouted like a petulant toddler and fished his phone out of his jeans’ pocket, dumping it in Celia’s outstretched palm.
“Now you go wash your hands before dinner,” Celia told Cam and ushered him out of the room. “And you,” she said, pointing her index finger at Micah, “start on your homework.”
With Celia out of earshot, Micah crossed his arms over his chest. “I still don’t get it. How’d you do that good?”
The truth? I had a choice—either learn French or die. However, that minor detail remained another fact Micah didn’t ever need to know.
So I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Let’s just say I don’t have as many distractions as you.”
Micah bristled. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want it to mean,” I retorted.
His face flooded with anger, his hazel eyes burning into me before he stormed from the room in stony silence. Suddenly remorseful, I followed him up the stairs only to have his slammed door greet my face.
Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut? I slumped back to the kitchen and flopped into a chair, burying my face in my hands. Why do I always manage to mess things up?
A few minutes later, Cameron tugged on my sleeve. “Micah said he’s too busy, so can you play soccer with me?” His bright brown eyes twinkled, wide and innocent like a baby deer, and impossible for me to refuse.
Pushing thoughts of Micah to the deep recesses of my mind, I managed a small smile. “Sure, buddy. Sounds good.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Finally his phone can’t consume his constant attention, I smiled. I’d have a chance at reconciliation without interruption.
And that probably would’ve happened, if Micah actually elected to speak to me. But he didn’t the rest of the night. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Each time Sully came over to play Zombie Dominion in the basement, I made a show of taking Cameron outside to practice soccer so they didn’t feel like I hovered over them and dampened their fun.
Because that was precisely how I felt—as if Micah regarded me as the biggest nerd who’d rather spend all my time with my nose in a book.
He didn’t understand the truth…that I only knew that stuff because I lived it. At least for a while before they found me again. Languages had to come easy for me. No other option existed.
I couldn’t tell if Micah seemed mad or jealous. I didn’t get it. What did he have to worry about? I had to leave. And besides, Micah and I argued too much to ever think of progressing to another level.
The following afternoon, Celia returned Micah’s phone privileges before she dropped Cam off at a birthday party and got her hair done. “You two will be all right while I’m gone?”
Before answering, I snuck a glance outside. The sky appeared a uniform shade of muted gray that threatened to open up at any moment. I guessed taking a walk to get away from Micah was out of the question. So I nodded halfheartedly.
With a wave, Celia led Cameron out the door with the present he had clumsily wrapped with lots and lots of extra tape and the card he’d drawn using colorful markers. I had helped him spell Happy Birthday. He added two exclamation points and turned the dots into eyeballs, adding a smile underneath. She opened the car door and steered Cam inside when Micah charged out behind them, calling, “Hey, Mom, can I have a few friends over?”
Celia sighed, buckling Cam into his booster seat.
“Please, Mom,” Micah begged in the sweetest voice I’d ever heard him use.
Pushing the hair from her eyes, Celia sighed heavier this time, as she did whenever she rushed to get someplace on time. She climbed into the driver’s seat and jammed the keys in the ignition.
“Fine,” she conceded. “But only a few.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Micah said before whipping out his phone.
Celia rolled her eyes. She slammed the door shut and backed down the driveway.
What a manipulator. I tromped downstairs to grab a jacket. I couldn’t stick around here. Rain or not, I felt a sudden urge to leave.
By the time I made it halfway back upstairs, I heard a car pull up. Probably Tessa, I figured and slid my arms into my jacket sleeves.
I slipped on one of my shoes and another car pulled in. Great. That one’s probably Sully.
Then I heard another car. And another.
What is Micah thinking?
Without bothering to tie my laces, I found him in the yard. Only I sounded bossier than I intended when I reminded him in front of Tessa, “Celia said a couple of friends.”
Micah glared at me. “What’s the problem?” he asked in a condescending tone. “Will we be too loud for you to study? Hey, I’ve got an idea…why don’t you go run off to the library and leave us alone.” He slipped his hand into Tessa’s, as if he deliberately tried to make me feel worse.
Tessa giggled at his remark and dragged Micah off to their growing group of friends.
“But your mom said—” I called after him.
Micah turned, his hazel eyes cruel and insensitive. “You worry too much. They’ll be long gone before she gets back.”
Though he wanted me to leave, I decided I’d stay. Micah might not appreciate my efforts, but I knew he’d need some major help to pull this off without Celia catching wind. Especially when Isa Estes walked over to the stereo and cranked up the volume. And Mark Wagner started unloading six-packs of beer from his trunk.
I twisted the volume down a notch and then raced over to Mark’s car. “Put those away. Celia’ll be back soon.”
Mark looked at me in a confused way. Then his face slowly lit with recognition. “Hey. You’re like in my science class, right?”
I rolled my eyes. I’d been here over a month. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Cool.” A leisurely smile formed across his face. “And what’s your name again?”
“Jordan.”
“Jergen?” Mark asked in sluggish tone and reached for another six-pack.
“Jordan,” I repeated, understanding why Mr. Horowitz grew so irritated in class every time Mark asked a question about something he had just explained. “And you can’t bring that here.” I removed the cans of beer from his hands and set them back in his car, then slammed the trunk shut. “Micah will get in a heap of trouble.”
“Gotcha,” Mark nodded with a knowing wink. “So are you and Micah like…” He made an obscene gesture with his hands, insinuating that Micah and I were “together.”
“What?” How clueless could he be? “No,” I exclaimed with extreme repulsion. “I live here.”
“Ohhh.” He nodded again. “Well, in that case, would you like to…?” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the front door.
Eww! Completely disgusted, I spun on my heels and marched away, reminding myself to avoid him for the rest of the day…or the rest of my life. Whichever came first.
Headed far away from Mark, I brushed past Karli McDonald talking to Justin Doyle, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist. It sure didn’t take her long to find someone else, I thought, wondering how Sully felt about that…and if he even knew. I looked around quickly, expecting to find him sitting with a bunch of people, oblivious to Karli and Justin’s blossoming relationship.
Instead, I spotted him off by himself in a corner of the yard, his face buried in his hands.
Yep. He knew all right.
I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if Micah had noticed Sully in this state. Then I spotted Mark Wagner. He gave a casual wave as he took a step in my direction.
Eager for any excuse to avoid another painful conversation with Mark, I made a beeline fo
r Sully and pulled up a chair beside him. “Hey,” I said. “How’s it goin’?”
Sully shrugged a reply.
I should be too pissed at Micah and Mark to actually care about anything beyond the issues I had to deal with right now, but I’d never seen Sully like this before. I should say something to cheer him up. He’d do it for me.
While I racked my brain for a helpful response, I gazed down at the ocean. Maybe I would’ve been better off spending the day at the beach—even with the inherent risk involved—than policing everyone’s behavior here at Micah’s impromptu party.
And then I remembered Sully’s offer the day he picked me up on his motorcycle. He claimed that only my feet would get wet. Hydros couldn’t find me from that small amount of contact with the ocean, right?
“Hey,” I asked. “Does your offer still stand?”
He lifted his head from his hands. “Say what?”
“About going skin-boarding? Are you still up for it?”
A faint smile played across his face. “You mean skim-boarding?”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Right.”
“Yeah,” he said, his face gradually returning to its normal sunny disposition. “The offer still stands.”
I smiled. My plan worked.
Then he added, “You know, Jordan, I was thinking. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
I shot him a surprised look. “What’re you talking about? You stop over every day.”
“Yeah, but you’re always so busy with Cam.”
“So? He’s got his first game coming up. He’s a little nervous about it.”
“Oh, that’s it,” he said unconvincingly. “And here I thought you were just trying to avoid me.”
“Not you,” I muttered. “More like Micah.”
Sully raised one eyebrow high on his forehead. “Really? Why’s that?”
I took a deep breath. “Let’s just say it’s been a long, long couple of days.”
He jabbed me lightly in the ribs in his “cheer-up” sort of way. “Don’t worry about it. Micah’s like that. He gets over stuff pretty fast.”