The Gay Teen's Guide to Defeating a Siren: Book 1: The Seeker

by Cody Wagner

  What I saw rooted me to the ground.

  A small, purple glow circled him. I took a step back. He was surrounded by violet light. Confused, I looked around. He wasn’t the only one. Other people had halos around them, too. They were mostly men, but a couple of women about a hundred feet away glowed as well.

  Heat spread through my chest. I looked down and realized it was coming from the locket. Tapping it first, to make sure it wasn’t burning, I pulled it up to my face. On the back, it read:

  The Seeker

  Twenty-Two

  Endings

  In the wake of Jimmy’s death, I withdrew into a shell of numbness and wandered the campus, alone. Jimmy said he spent the previous year looking for hidden nooks and crannies. Buried in his loneliness, I did the same thing, finding dark corners and dumpsters that made perfect little hideouts. Sitting in trash cans, I curled up into a ball, focusing on nothing for hours.

  Other students, knowing I was with Jimmy as he died, left a wide circle around me, like I was contaminated. That was OK, though, because I didn’t want to talk to them; their pitiful, sideways glances were infuriating enough. I wanted to scream, “It’s not helping!” Except I knew I’d be acting the same way if it were someone else. Still, it didn’t stop my internal torture. My insides were a tornado of emotions that refused to stop spinning.

  The funeral made things a thousand times worse.

  Let me say right now, the day of Jimmy’s funeral was the worst of my life. I heard his family avoided the whole affair, so Sanctuary ended up taking care of everything. It sucked that Jimmy’s relatives didn’t even care enough to come, much less donate a single penny. However, I’d never learned the first thing about them, so how could I judge? I was so self-absorbed, I’d never really asked about anyone’s personal life. Mentally punching myself, I realized I couldn’t name three detailed things about Roze or Cassie or Jimmy; what a terrible friend I’d been.

  Such thoughts caused new waves of guilt to wash over me, and hours and hours of suppressed pain seemed to peak as I absently pulled on the suit (that Sanctuary loaned me) a few hours before the service. My hands shook so badly, I had to leave the tie dangling limply around my neck.

  Seeing my pain (or experiencing it themselves), Cassie and Roze each grabbed one of my hands the second we met up. They didn’t let go as we headed to the outdoor auditorium. The afternoon was hot and muggy. A light breeze ruffled my hair but I didn’t care about fixing my mop.

  Wolcott decided to hold the funeral at Sanctuary. It was Jimmy’s home, after all. And the auditorium was perfect for reasons only a few of us understood. Still, every familiar building and tree caused little pangs of grief. I hung my head most of the time, trying not to look around. Everything reminded me of him.

  I didn’t cry.

  I’m not sure what happened but, since Jimmy’s death, my heart seemed to have calloused over. The pain was still there. Oh man, was it ever there. But it kept choking itself back. I felt the horrible emotions, but they just wouldn’t come out. My chest constantly felt as if it would explode from the pressure. The rib injuries I’d sustained didn’t help either.

  Taking painful breaths trying to free the hurt, I entered the auditorium area and headed to the rows of seats. Cassie squeezed my hand and pulled me to a stop.

  “What?” I kept my eyes on the grass.

  “We pay our respects there.” I followed her gaze to the left of the stage. A blue tent had been erected. Flowers covered every inch, except for the middle, where a giant picture of Jimmy rested on a tripod stand. I’m not sure where it was taken, but the photograph was obviously old. A version of Jimmy—who couldn’t have been more than eleven—grimaced for the camera. He was wearing a dark blue suit I’d never seen.

  I marched over and stood among the flowers. Roze stopped next to me and turned away. She must have been thinking what I was: This isn’t Jimmy.

  I didn’t know why, but it made me angry. Of course, everything made me angry or sad since his death. Still, I couldn’t believe no one had taken a picture of Jimmy in over two years. What was wrong with his family? My mom couldn’t put her stupid camera down.

  I took another agonizing breath, thinking about what to do. Part of me wanted to tear it down. Part of me wanted to go tape some of his normal, familiar clothes to the photo and try to make him look like the friend I’d known.

  A rusting sound jarred me from my thoughts and I turned to see Luke and Darrin approaching. Anger exploded through me and I pulled from Cassie and Roze, balling my hands into fists. They were the ones who’d treated Jimmy like dirt. They were the reason he’d hidden in dumpsters last year. Other than the play—when they needed him—no one had ruined Jimmy’s life at Sanctuary more than Luke and Darrin.

  I just waited for them to make a snarky comment. Something inside me actually wanted them to.

  But they didn’t. Squeezing past us, they went right up to the photo carrying a long bundle wrapped in cloth. I heard the occasional ting and rustle of sliding metal as they began setting up something. They pulled a sheet of glass out and began messing with it.

  The wait escalated my fury. How dare they come in here and make themselves the center of attention. I took a step forward. Cassie grabbed my arm.

  “Luke’s hurting.”

  I pulled away. “Too little too late.”

  I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Making a scene at a funeral was something I’d never do, but I tensed, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.

  Luke and Darrin stopped what they were doing and laid the cloth on the ground. They turned and walked past us without a second glance. Luke’s eyes were bloodshot and dark. I was still panting and feeling totally protective, but they left the area without a word.

  Roze gasped and grab my arm. Then she let out a sob. I jerked my head forward.

  The old picture of Jimmy wasn’t visible anymore. Luke and Darrin had set a large stand up in front of it. On the stand rested a giant framed drawing. It was a portrait of Jimmy, gesturing onstage during the production of Too Many Secrets. His face glowed with the energy of his performance. Darrin had drawn him in the forefront, bigger than life. Everything else around him was in black and white. But Jimmy shone in full color. His smile lit the entire frame.

  Over his head were the words, “Sometimes it’s hard to recognize a giant. I’m sorry.”

  It was a comic. Their last comic. For Jimmy.

  Roze covered her face and silently cried. Cassie stood gaping at it, tears running down her face.

  It was perfect. This was Jimmy.

  Emotion piled up in me and I heard myself whimper. But no tears fell. My body hurt from the buildup but I couldn’t let it out. Maybe part of me refused to let anything Luke and Darrin did affect me so much. I didn’t know, but my chest hurt so bad, I rubbed at it with my palm. More waves of guilt crashed over me. Was I such a terrible person that I couldn’t even cry over my friend?

  A hand gripped my shoulder. I turned to see Timothy, wearing a suit that looked like it had been wadded up in a dresser. His eyes were red and he looked genuinely distraught. Of course, I felt horrible seeing him. I had been so caught up in my life, I hadn’t visited him like I said I would, and I was again reminded of my uselessness as a friend.

  He didn’t seem to care about that, though. As soon as we made eye contact, he pulled me into a giant, warm hug. My injured ribs ached from the force, but I didn’t care, and we stood like that for several seconds.

  “It’s because of me,” I whispered in his ear.

  He pulled back, angry.

  “Don’t ever say that again.” He held my gaze. “I heard what you did.”

  At that moment, my ribs throbbed in agreement, but I couldn’t acknowledge his statement, so he continued, “I heard you fought them by yourself. For Jimmy.” He shook his head. “I just wish I knew why they attacked him.”

  I stood there, frozen. I knew why, but couldn’t reply. I hadn’t talked about it to anyone. No one knew about
the necklace, or about the strange thing that had happened to me. I wasn’t ready for all that and just stood there, nodding along with Timothy, until he pulled me in again and said, “Come work with me on the farm next year. It’ll help.”

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I nodded blankly, then withdrew to Roze and Cassie. We stayed there a long time, until a voice beckoned us to our seats. The three of us entered the front row of the auditorium and sat at center stage. No matter what, we would always be Jimmy’s most supportive audience.

  * * * * *

  After the service, I withdrew back into myself. I couldn’t help it: I felt alone in the whole matter. I was the only one there as Jimmy died. I was the only one who knew he had transferred his seeker power.

  To aid the mourning process, Sanctuary Prep canceled semester tests. They also forced me to go to counseling sessions. The therapist lady seemed really nice, but I didn’t want to talk with her. She sat there, being very understanding, and trying to ask questions. I gave only short, unhelpful responses. She didn’t seem surprised, though, and told me how healthy it was to let the emotion out.

  I didn’t know how to do that, though. And so, I coped the only way I could: by continuing my daily wanderings, exploring the campus, and hiding when anyone came around.

  During the outings, my mind raced like crazy. Most of my thoughts revolved around Jimmy and my overwhelming guilt. But when I managed to push all that aside, other questions exploded in my head. Most of them centered around the school. I mean, Sanctuary didn’t seem to be in trouble—no police, no investigators, nothing. How could that happen? What made the school so special? It was a high school, for frick’s sake.

  I also didn’t know what to do about the locket. I supposed the Seeker’s job made sense, providing a sort of checks and balances to the Siren. Without knowing who she controlled, the Siren could get crazy powerful. In that moment, a voice in my head whispered, You need to tell the school. Maybe that was the right choice. I mean, Wolcott and the rest of the staff obviously didn’t know Jimmy had transferred his power. If they did, I’d have been under constant surveillance. But, other than a few questions, they pretty much left me alone.

  Ultimately, I chose not to say a word about my new gift. That may come off as childish or stupid but, if I came forward, I might have ended up dead. With the loss of Jimmy hanging over me, my brain just couldn’t handle that. And I figured if the school didn’t know about my power, maybe the Siren didn’t either. Whether it was true or not, the thought gave me time to get my bearings. What little bearings I had left.

  One evening, the day before everyone was set to return home, Cassie and Roze found me behind the gym. Normally, I’d have asked to be alone, but I was having a rough day—I couldn’t stop picturing Jimmy bleeding on the sidewalk. The image was so overwhelming that, desperate for a distraction, I let them fall in line next to me. Together, we walked in silence through the football field until Roze spoke up.

  “Do you think Jimmy was a Siren?”

  I stopped and looked at her. She peered down at the grass, embarrassed. This was her way of admitting she believed in the Siren. I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and played with it. Roze hadn’t said much to me lately. This was probably why. I didn’t want to think about Jimmy, but knew she was trying to help.

  I stammered for a response and finally muttered, “If he was, he wasn’t very good at it.”

  It must have been the right thing, because she choked out a laugh and smiled at me.

  I shrugged and tried to smile back, but couldn’t manage one.

  Cassie grabbed my hand.

  “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself,” she said. Her face was flushed.

  I know she was just trying to help, but I didn’t want to hear it. Still, she continued, “If anything, you did more than anyone else.” She let it go at that and we walked a few minutes in silence.

  “You’re going after her aren’t you?” Roze said.

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  I thought about the Siren poster with the horrible words scribbled at the top.

  “Yes. Jimmy told me to.”

  Cassie and Roze went quiet, letting the words hang in the air. It was the first time I’d mentioned those last, precious seconds with Jimmy. Cassie closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and whispered, “Roze and I want to help.”

  I thought for a second and shook my head. “No. I have to do this on my own.”

  OK, I know that sounded cowboyish, like I was going to get out my pistol (or whatever it was they used) and trek through the desert alone. But this felt so personal.

  “We were just as close to Jimmy as you,” Cassie said.

  “Not Roze.” I don’t know what made me say it, but I regretted the words as soon as they fell out of my mouth.

  Roze’s jaw dropped and tears sprang into her eyes.

  Before Roze or I could speak, Cassie rounded on me. “Did you know Roze changed her schedule just so she could take Government with him.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “She found those awful comics Luke and Darrin were drawing, and she switched so he wouldn’t be alone with them.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You don’t know a lot about her.”

  That hurt, mostly because it was true. I was becoming increasingly aware of my lack of interest in peoples’ lives. I didn’t want them prying into my life, and figured they felt the same. I quickly learned that wasn’t the case.

  My face burned. I was more embarrassed than I’d ever been in my life. “I’m so sorry. It’s just . . . ” I couldn’t finish the sentence but I realized I was trying to find reasons to get angry. Anger was the easiest way to cover my pain. It must have been why I seethed at Luke and Darrin.

  Roze must have seen the anguish on my face because she immediately whispered, “It’s fine.”

  Cassie grabbed us both. “I’m sorry, too. That wasn’t fair of me to say. You’re a great friend, Blaize.”

  I shrugged.

  Seeing my ambivalence, she said, “You don’t realize what a good person you are. Look what you did for Jimmy. And Roze. Remember that first day of school?”

  I stared out at the last traces of daylight. “I just asked her to walk with us.”

  “No one else did. And there were tons of people around.”

  I shrugged again.

  Roze turned to me. Her expression was neutral. “We’re going to look for the Siren.”

  Cassie added, “It will be a lot easier if you’re there. I think, if we work together, we’ll find her faster.” She stopped me. “Don’t you think that’s what Jimmy would want?”

  I thought about that for a long time. Finally, I nodded. She was right. Stupid Cassie was always right. Besides, I felt I owed this to Roze after the idiotic thing I’d just said.

  “OK. Thanks.” I thrust my hands into my pockets. “So what are we gonna do?”

  At that, Roze’s expression softened. Then she grimaced. “Summer’s gonna suck.”

  She was so right. Going back into hiding was just another awful thing we had to deal with.

  “I think it’s clear we need to know more,” Cassie said. “Go to the library. Get online. Learn as much about this as you can. That’s really all we can do. Hopefully, when we get back, we’ll know enough to form a plan.”

  She was right. I knew so little about this whole thing, and learning was a logical first step. Also, I wasn’t ready to talk to the teachers, so what I could learn at school, I could learn from home.

  Admittedly, I felt my load was way heavier, because I had to search for information on this whole seeker business. But I wasn’t going to say a word. The last thing I needed right now was to make it a competition.

  Instead, I stared at Roze and Cassie. “Let’s take her down.”

  * * * * *

  Sanctuary typically threw a huge picnic to end the year with a bang. I heard that parents joined and everyone played games and ate “Healing Hamburger
s”. This year, the picnic was canceled. And the arriving cars drove in quietly, like a funeral procession. I figured it was appropriate, but the sight brought back more painful thoughts of Jimmy.

  When I saw my parent’s Camry join the line of cars, an enormous dread blossomed in my stomach. I should have considered myself lucky. Thanks to the school, Mom and Dad had no idea about the protest, so they were OK with my returning next year. They’d only heard that my roommate died.

  Mom was pretty amazing about the whole Jimmy thing, too. Several days earlier, when I talked to her, she immediately began crying and told me she was so sorry. The problem was, I didn’t want to be subjected to their questions and weird looks and everything else for an entire summer.

  Thankfully, when they pulled to a stop in the parking lot, I peeked up from my feet to see Molly grinning at me and tapping on the glass. That wasn’t so bad; she didn’t seem to have any idea what was going on. She was just excited to see me.

  The second Dad opened her door, she ran at me and jumped into a hug, ramming right into my ribs. I winced as she whispered, “Hurry! Being alone with them sucks.” I knew she was just trying to sound sullen and teenagery.

  I responded, “Try being gay with them. It sucks more.” I wasn’t sure if I should have said it, but she smiled and began running around in circles to expend the energy of sitting in a car all day.

  Mom raced around and came to hug me. I realized they wouldn’t know about my injuries and didn’t think I could take being squeezed again. Backing away, I said, “I fell during my gym final and bruised a couple ribs.” She rushed over and, in typical, oblivious mom fashion, tried lifting my shirt— right there in public—to see the extent of my injuries. I yanked the bottom of it from her hand.

  “Mom!”