As flashes of memory of that night flitted across my mind, I felt a rising pressure on my chest, making me want to get out of there, to flee. “Tara? Did he hurt you somehow?”
I twisted my fingers, unsure how to answer.
When Jerrick tried to kiss me, he used his source to influence my attraction toward him, and I realized he was possessed by a fiend. With so much hate bombarding me, I didn’t know who I could tell without Jerrick getting into trouble and being arrested. I’d hoped once the fiend was gone he’d go back to being regular Jerrick. The one I could trust.
After finding out I could steal the source of an alv, I’d snuck into Jerrick’s room at night while he was sleeping.
In order to get the fiend out of him, I drained Jerrick of all positive and negative source, which I transferred into Jerrick’s alv dagger. Jerrick woke at the same moment the fiend came out of him. I was quicker than Jer, who tried to stop me, and killed the fiend with his dagger as it tried to flee.
Instead of being grateful, Jerrick was furious at me for stealing his source. Pure alvs store their source throughout their bodies and overtime develop their gift. When I drained Jerrick of his, I put him years behind in his ability to become an alchemist.
I was lucky he’d only used his pillow on me, rather than his fist.
As the literal darkness of that moment filled my mind, I closed my eyes, wishing I could drain memory from my mind like I could remove dark source from my body.
“If he hurt you—”Jack said.
“He bought a tarantula.” I swallowed. Time to bury the truth within a lie. The truth was too intense and strange. “He’d threatened to put it on me while I was sleeping, so I snuck into his room and killed it.”
“You killed his pet spider?” Jack asked, now disbelief evident on his face. “Nothing else happened?”
There was more, but I didn’t want to even think about what had happened.
“He took that picture.” The one of me on his bed, which he’d then texted to Sam and some other friends, saying I’d snuck into his room to have a relationship with him.
That was the moment I’d stopped trying to prove anything different and chose the loner path.
Sam and Jerrick broke up anyway.
I sighed and closed my eyes. Tears burned, wanting to squeeze their way through my eyes.
Jack was quiet. He had to know I wasn’t telling him something. A darkness I didn’t want to tell anyone. Not even rehearse it to myself.
“So he ruined your reputation even more for killing his bug—that he’d threatened you with?” Anger flickered across his face. “Well, if I ever run across Jerrick again, I’m probably going to punch him.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” I said.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Tara.”
“We hadn’t been friends in years. I wouldn’t have expected anything from you.”
“Yeah, well. I should have tried harder. We’d known each other since we were three.” Jack sighed and opened his door.
As I stepped out of his car onto the round-about driveway, a homesick sensation swept over me, along with a tingling energy. Trees surrounded the ranch home on all sides except the front, keeping it in the shade.
I wanted to bypass the house altogether and see if the backyard was as magical as I remembered. When I was little, there was always something new to discover there.
“Look who it is!” Dr. Spalding said, coming from around his truck. “My Tara-cotta warrior.” He grinned and wiped his oily hands on a rag.
I couldn’t help but smile back. I’d forgotten all about his nickname for me. “Hello, Dr. Spalding.”
“What new adventure brought you here? Did Jack tell you about the kittens in the backyard?”
So many memories came thrashing over me, like sunlight bursting through clouds.
“She’s here to help me study.” Jack headed toward the front porch.
The excited energy inside me came crashing to a halt. My place here was as Jack’s tutor—not his friend.
I waited by the car, looking at the house. The white walls and maroon trimmings were crisp, as if newly painted during the last year.
Once at the door, Jack turned around. “Tara? You coming in?”
“I want to see your kittens,” I said.
The kittens were housed in a cat house outside the Spalding’s walk-out basement. Most of them were black with a little bit of white, but the mostly white one with a little bit of brown caught my attention.
I scooped it out from the others and held it close to my face, rubbing the kitten between the ears. Its motor immediately purred.
As I stroked the kitten, the day’s negative source drained out of me, and I remembered something I’d forgotten while not having had a cat in six years. Cats naturally draw out negative source and distribute it into their surroundings.
Is that why Daniel keeps trying to bring a cat home? Mom and I didn’t want one, because they reminded us of Dad.
Turning around, I swept my gaze over the scenery.
Jack’s backyard was the epitome of elsewhere.
A hill sloped down to a pond that was surrounded by woodland. A willow was one of the most prominent trees, set slightly apart from the others. Under its weeping branches, my old bench still sat.
Years ago, when I was out with Jack’s mom and Mom, we visited an antique shop, and she found the white bench with a decorative border and curved legs. In my four-year-old mind, it had looked like the throne for a princess. Mom didn’t buy it for me, which I hadn’t expected because we’d been tight on money. Dad was still in his residency, and Mom was paying off med school loans. The bench was a nonessential.
But the next time I came over to Jack’s house to play, it was in my favorite place under the branches of the weeping willow.
Although the white paint had chipped and faded, revealing its wooden frame, it was still in my place.
“My old bench. I can’t believe it’s still there.” I crossed the yard to the willow.
Dumping my backpack on the ground, I sat down on my old throne. My legs were a little too long for the bench now, so I sat cross-legged and set the kitten in my lap.
Jack ran his hand through his hair. “You used to be so bossy, milady.” He grinned.
“It was your fault, calling me queen.”
He bowed, and I envisioned him in his silly jester costume. The memory made me laugh.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. Being in nature, positive source naturally flourished inside of me.
I looked at the happy little furball as it played with my hand. It paused, and its green eyes stared back at me. The kitten mewed, and I imagined it was saying “hello.”
“Hmm.” I scratched between its ears. “Is it old enough to keep?”
“Yes. Mom’s been trying to get rid of them. Do you want her?” Jack sprawled on the ground, opening his pack.
“I’m not sure. Mom hasn’t wanted a cat since Tabs died.” Nor had I, but maybe it was time.
“Whatever happened to him?”
“Tabs was hit by a car the night before we found out Dad had been killed.”
“Oh.” Jack’s eyes widened. “I kind of remember now. No, I do. That sucked.”
Yes, it did.
Jack rummaged inside his bag. “I’m an idiot. I brought my math notebook home.”
Chuckling, I kicked my bag closer to him. “Lit is the only one I brought home.”
He undid the zipper.
“So I’m thinking you should read through all my notes and quiz me on them tonight.”
“Whaaaaaaaaa?” he said, “Sounds like more work for—”
“You? Exactly. I’m the queen after all.”
Jack chuckled. “You and your bench. As you wish, milady.”
Sliding to the ground next to him, we lay by each other, and I felt like the rubberband of time from when we were kids finding shapes in the clouds to now, had snapped.
As he read aloud, I played with the
kitten, debating the idea of bringing her home with me. Nathaniel’s birthday was in a couple of days. He’d always wanted a cat. Daniel had promised him one when he came to live with us.
Before coming to live with us, Nathaniel’s drug-addict mom had killed Nathaniel’s, the one he’d gotten from his dad before he went to jail for trying to murder his mom.
I don’t know why Nathaniel would still want a cat after that, but it was the only thing he ever asked for at birthdays and Christmas.
His birthday would be a good excuse to use for bringing home the kitten if Mom protested. I doubted she would put up much of a fight if I was the one who brought it home.
Jack’s tone as he read aloud was monotone and bored.
“None of these characters are even likeable.” Jack slammed my notebook on the ground and placed his hands under his head, staring up at the sky. He had given up.
“If you read a book with yourself as the main character, would you like him?” I set the kitten on my stomach, and it rolled up in a ball to nap.
Jack pushed himself up onto his elbow to look at me. “What sort of question is that?”
“We’re all flawed, Jack. We all have things people don’t like about us. It’s about finding the similarities—the things that make us like them.”
“You like Gatsby?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s completely immoral.”
“Completely immoral? He’s in love.”
“Infatuated.”
“Whatever,” I teased.
“He goes after someone else’s wife.”
“And for that, you don’t like him?”
“No. I also don’t like that he’s an idiot. He wastes his entire life amassing a fortune in order to gain back a lost love so shallow and dimwitted, she’s not even worth a penny of his money.”
“But isn’t that the tragedy of him? That quality that makes him so human? Like us?”
“Like us? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Ever since we started the unit on The Great Gatsby, I’d read the novel once a week. “It’s...it’s easy to see our faces in theirs.”
The kitten crawled up to my neck and curled in the crook my shoulder made. It immediately began to purr, drawing any remaining negative source from me.
I needed to visit Jack’s house more often; I hadn’t felt this at peace in I don’t know how long. Maybe since I’d last been here.
Jack lay back down, and we stared at the drooping branches together. “I don’t get it.”
No. Of course he didn’t. “Can I keep her?” I asked.
“I think you know the answer already.” He grabbed the notebook and opened it back up. “Alrighty then, question one. What is the symbolism behind that billboard?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re only asking because you weren’t paying attention during class today.”
“No, actually this time, I was, but you weren’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mmhmm. Asher ring a bell?” He opened the notebook and showed me the picture Asher had drawn.
“Oh.” I sat up and tried to grab it from him.
The kitten meowed in protest and swirled around me to sit in my lap, always making sure to maintain contact.
“Are you jealous?”
“No.” Jack furrowed his brows. “I…” He trailed and his gaze looked at something else. His facial expression flitted through a series of different ones, and I could tell he had something to say about Asher. “I’m probably going to have a hard time if you started hanging out with him.”
“Don’t worry about it. Lydia warned me Samantha already has her eyes on him.”
“Well. I wouldn’t let that stop you if you’re interested in giving him a chance.”
I lifted my brows. “What?”
Jack handed me my notebook. “Be careful, all right?”
“Just to confirm. You wouldn’t be jealous.” To stay on safe grounds with him, I wanted to be sure.
“No. I mean, I’m still not over Lydia yet.” There were sudden tears in his eyes that were gone as quickly as they came.
My chest ached for him. They’d started dating in middle school.
He picked at the grass. “Though I was, I mean, I’m kind of hoping you and I could be friends again.”
“I don’t know. This whole tutoring thing has been nice. Gives us boundaries.”
Jack’s gaze shifted to me. “Yeah. I figured it was the only way you’d let me in.”
“Mmhmm. Trickster.”
“I was the jester.” He grinned and tickled my waist. “Come on. Let’s pick up some slushies before I drop you off at home.”
I had to admit, after holing myself up in my room for several months, it felt good talking openly with someone. Maybe isolation wasn’t the best solution.
6. Jack Knows
After picking up slushies, Jack put in a CD that had the Beach Boys on it and belted out the words to Kokomo, surprisingly keeping pretty in tune. He could sing solos in a choir.
Chuckling, I said, “You do know they aren’t talking about Kokomo, Indiana?”
“Shh.” He held a finger to his mouth. “Don’t spoil my dream. My favorite sister lives there.”
The kitten climbed from my lap onto my shoulder as it investigated what the backseat looked like. I angled my drink away from its clambering back paws.
Jack abruptly turned the volume down. “So, whose face do you see mine in?”
Confused, I gave him a blank stare.
“In Gatsby. You said—”
“Oh!” He couldn’t still be thinking about our conversation earlier about Gatsby. “Nick’s.”
Jack smiled a little. “Good. He’s the only character I liked in that story.”
As the light ahead turned red, Jack slowed to a stop. The next street on the left was mine, and I found myself wishing he would keep driving. I’d forgotten how nice it was to spend time with a friend.
“You wanna cover my shift Monday night?” Jack asked.
“You know Monica doesn’t like me to come in.” Of course he’d waited until the last minute to ask me. I turned the kitten around to hold her like a baby.
“You’re fine. You never actually quit.”
“All right, Jack. Just this once, but then I’m telling Monica I’m never coming in again.”
“You said that last time.”
“I mean it this time.”
Jack grinned, and I smiled back.
Positive source warmed my heart before I let my pendant soak it in. This was another thing I’d forgotten about—how good it felt to truly smile.
When the light changed to green, we went forward, and I watched my street approach closer with a growing sense of dread. I wasn’t ready to go home.
He turned left, and the road seemed to stretch out, longer than normal.
For the most part, I avoided looking at Sam and Jerrick’s neighboring houses. Today, maybe spurred on by my conversation with Jack, I glanced toward it, and there was Jerrick, still as tall, muscular, and dark-haired as he had been in the spring. He lounged against the pillar that held up the roof of his porch.
What’s he doing home from college?
Chills raced over me, and I felt this urge to jump out of my seat and run.
“Easy, there, sister,” Jack said. He was stooped over a little as he turned the steering wheel, making the car turn into my driveway.
Jerrick’s gaze met mine, and he strutted toward us.
My heart was stuck in my throat. What’s he doing home? Why can’t he leave me alone?
“I’ll get your door,” Jack said.
I didn’t answer. Maybe talking about Jerrick to Jack had summoned him home. Of course, that didn’t make sense, but what were the chances?
Best to bee-line it inside and avoid Jerrick altogether. The lights were on, which meant someone was home, and, hopefully, the front door was unlocked. I pulled my backpack onto one shoulder and s
cooped up the kitten.
Getting out, Jack walked around the front to let me out of the car.
When I emerged, Jerrick waved. “Tara!” he called, not an ounce of friendliness in his expression.
Jack touched my elbow protectively, guiding me toward the front door. “Can I punch him now?” he whispered.
His request lightened my mood slightly. “No.”
“Dating Jack now, I see,” Jerrick scoffed behind us. He was close enough I could feel his energy on me. “Didn’t you get your last girlfriend—”
Jack made a fist. “What the heck.” He turned around and shoved Jerrick backward.
“Jack, no!”
Too late.
With Jerrick pressing in on him, Jack swung his right fist to hit Jerrick’s face, which Jerrick lifted a hand to catch, but Jack’s was a feint for his left hand punching Jerrick in the gut, catching him unawares.
Jerrick bowled over, gasping for breath. For added measure, Jack kneed him in the groin, and Jerrick’s face twisted in pain.
“If you ever come near her again—” Jack left it at that.
My heart pounded, the emotion there suspended between sweet relief and terror this moment would come back to bite me, or worse, Jack.
Looking at Jack, Jerrick growled. He opened his mouth to retort but clamped it shut as his gaze settled on someone behind us.
“Don’t ever talk to my daughter again.” It was Daniel. He looked straight at Jerrick with an almost too calm expression on his face for having witnessed a fight.
A feeling of pride burned inside me hearing his ownership of me, which caught me off guard, because I’d never wanted to be his daughter.
Daniel came off the porch. “Or step foot on my property. Am I clear?”
Jerrick gave him the barest nod before hobbling back toward his house, not a word of back-mouth.
As relieving as it was to have Jack give Jerrick what was due, it was sure to stir more drama. I was grateful Daniel was there.
“Well fought, Jack,” Daniel said in a quiet tone. “Wish I could have done that myself.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and took the kitten, giving me a puzzled expression about the critter.
The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1) Page 7