Crossing to his bed, Corbin picked up the guitar that rested on a stand beside it and located the pick he’d been using earlier. Moving to Morgan, he held the two items out to her.
As Morgan situated the guitar on her lap, Joss let out a snort.
Corbin looked at her. “What?”
Biting back a giggle, Joss said, “Nothing… I just… Wow. Good luck.”
Morgan made a face. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… Don’t you remember the recorder debacle in first grade? Or the harmonica disaster that one Christmas?” Joss let out a genuine laugh and pressed her hand to her mouth. “Or the drums!”
Corbin walked to where Joss and, placing his hands on her shoulders, gently led her out of the room. “I think it’s best if you left.”
“I’m sorry.” Joss’s voice floated in from the hallway. “Good luck is all. Good luck…”
Corbin closed the door and sighed.
Morgan held the guitar protectively. “So what if I’m a little musically challenged?”
He smiled at her. “So, wanna try some scales again?”
For the next hour, Corbin guided Morgan through the rudiments of playing the guitar. Objectively, Morgan knew she wasn’t any good. She wasn’t just bad for a beginner—she was just bad. The only way she could determine whether or not she’d hit a wrong note was by taking inventory of Corbin’s face. And though he winced far more often than he smiled while she struggled through, he never got irritated or short with her.
Finally, when Morgan’s fingers could take no more, she decided she’d had enough. After Corbin took the guitar from her and placed it back in its stand, she held her left hand out to him for inspection.
“Looking good,” he said appreciatively, taking her hand in his and gently rubbing his thumb over the pads of her fingertips. “You’ll have some decent callouses built up in no time.”
Morgan watched his face as he studied her fingers, struck, as she sometimes was, by the surreality and improbability of their relationship. Three months ago, she couldn’t stand him: she’d thought of him as little more than an insincere rich boy whose existence irritated her on principle. Then, when she’d come into her abilities, the two of them had shared energy in a way that had given her insight into who he really was—and given him insight into everything about her in return. After that, they’d shared a connection so unique that it drew them together—even during Corbin’s brief stint as Morgan’s best friend’s “not-boyfriend.”
Now, during the isolation of the cabin, Morgan found there was a comfort in having Corbin with her.
He looked from her hand to her eyes, a puzzled expression on his face. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Chinchillas,” she said, not missing a beat.
He smiled. “Chinchillas, huh?”
“Yep. They’re super soft, I’ve heard. I really want to pet one.”
A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Maybe we could requisition one for you.”
“He could be our mascot.”
This time, Corbin’s laugh was a full, round sound. “Now there’s a mascot that’ll strike fear into the hearts of the Veneret. Fear us, the mighty chinchillas!”
Morgan leaned forward for a kiss. Corbin leaned in to meet her, but at the last second glided past her lips and kissed her cheek instead. When he pulled back, she eyed him quizzically. “What’s up?”
He closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s nothing.”
She continued to watch him. Impulse demanded she push forward with her abilities to determine what was going on in his mind; propriety told her it wasn’t her business: he was, after all, entitled to private thoughts. Propriety winning out, she took a guess. “Is this about not getting a note from home?”
Eyes opening, he fixed his gaze on her. She watched a sort of internal struggle play out across his face. He opened his mouth once before closing it again and releasing a breath. Then he nodded. “That’s exactly it.”
Something told Morgan that his response wasn’t one hundred percent honest, but she decided not to press the issue. “Wanna see if we can get a round of Jenga going?”
Corbin smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stood, holding his hand out to her and helping her to her feet. “We’ve gotta enforce the no abilities rule somehow,” he said as they crossed the room. “Luke’s the biggest cheater—and he’s starting to influence Joss.”
Morgan laughed, pulling open the door. “I could threaten to beat them up.”
“Or we could sic a chinchilla on them.”
Morgan squeezed Corbin’s fingers as he led her into the hall. Though she was certain there was something more to his mood than he was admitting, she decided not to press it. If it was important, he would tell her.
Wouldn’t he?
Chapter Four
After breakfast the next morning, Morgan snapped closed the book she was reading and pulled the ear buds out of her ears. Hitting the pause button on her iPod, she sat up in bed.
Joss, who was on her own bed knotting embroidery floss into a bracelet, looked up, body tensed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sick of every single song on every play list on this entire iPod,” Morgan said, setting her book on her bedside table with more force than was strictly necessary.
Joss’s body language relaxed. “Oh, good. I thought it was something serious.” She turned her attention back to the bracelet.
Morgan glanced at the alarm clock on her table. It was nine thirty. “Half an hour till training,” she said, more to herself than Joss. “I think I’m gonna go put some new music on this thing.”
“Good luck,” Joss said, not looking up. “Corbin’s always hogging the laptop.”
Morgan grinned, standing. “Good thing I’ve got some sway with him.”
Joss whistled, wagging her eyebrows at Morgan as she exited the room. She smiled to herself, reflecting on how the relationship between her and her cousin had changed in the months since their arrival at the cabin. For much of the last decade, their once close friendship had been strained to the breaking point; now that they were roommates, they were falling back into the easy rhythm of friendship.
In the hallway, Morgan noticed Lucas a few steps ahead of her. She jogged to catch up and fell into step beside him. “You’re not heading to the laptop, are you?”
“And if I am?”
“I’ll immobilize you and run to get there first.”
He grinned. “As fun as that sounds, it looks like you have no need to practice your immobilizing abilities: I’m headed to the library.”
“Good.” She gave Lucas a playful shove with her shoulder, which he returned as they entered the living room.
Lucas stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. “Wow, it smells amazing in here.” He looked toward the kitchen.
Morgan followed his gaze and found Ellie and Wen at the end of it. The two glanced up, identical smiles lighting up their faces.
Lucas approached them and leaned against the counter, watching as Ellie rolled out some sort of dough. “Are you making a pie?”
Ellie nodded, her attention on her rolling pin.
“And is there a reason for your sudden domesticity?”
Wen, who was chopping apples, shrugged. “We figured it’d be appropriate—you know, given the day.”
Morgan approached the counter and she and Lucas exchanged glances. “The day?”
But then Lucas grinned. “It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”
Ellie looked up, a smear of flour above her right eyebrow. “Yep. Now, unless you two want to help, I suggest you find somewhere else to be.”
Lucas rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “Consider me at your disposal.” He glanced at Morgan, a light dancing in his eyes. “You up for it?”
Morgan considered it. Given that her culinary prowess was limited at best, her first impulse was to decline, to instead locate the laptop as she had i
ntended. But something about the look on Lucas’s face pushed the idea of searching for new music from her mind. She smiled. “Sure.”
Ellie’s expression was somewhere between nervous and relieved as she directed the two of them to begin peeling sweet potatoes. She hovered apprehensively as they set up at the kitchen table. Morgan had the distinct impression she was supervising to be sure they wouldn’t accidentally peel their fingers instead of the potatoes. It wasn’t until Wen came over and put a reassuring hand on his sister’s forearm that Ellie returned to her pie crust.
Morgan had to admit she felt better without Ellie hovering, mostly because she wasn’t particularly practiced at using a peeler and having an audience didn’t put her any more at ease. Lucas, on the other hand, was peeling with gusto, as though he’d done it every day of his life.
“I used to have races with my brothers,” Lucas said, as though he had sensed what Morgan was thinking. “I’m the youngest, and Matt and John could kick my butt at everything.” He paused in his peeling just long enough to catch Morgan’s eye and grin. “Except peeling potatoes. I dominated at peeling potatoes.”
She couldn’t help laughing. She watched as he deftly handled the peeler, maneuvering his long fingers so they didn’t get sliced. He certainly did seem to have a knack for it.
“Tell me something,” Lucas said after an amicable silence passed.
The request startled Morgan out of the steady rhythm she’d begun and the potato she was working on slipped from her hand. “Like what?” she asked, resuming her task.
He chuckled. “Anything. Something about your childhood. Like… What were holidays like at your place?”
Morgan set down the potato she was working on and picked up a fresh one. She considered it carefully before putting the peeler to its skin. Half of the flesh was exposed before she spoke. “Holidays were always pretty low-key. Well, not always, but after, you know?”
“After your mom went missing.” Lucas sighed. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t—”
“The first year or so, we went over to Joss’s place for holidays, but things were so strained between me and Joss… My dad seemed to finally decide that holidays weren’t the day to try to push us back together.” she continued, not looking up at him. “After that, Dad and I would experiment with different recipes for Thanksgiving and Christmas: different cookies or pies or side dishes. Sometimes they were…” She smiled. “I think disaster is the most comprehensive word here. We always had a pizza in the freezer—just in case.”
“Man, sometimes I wish the holidays at my house could be more low-key. My mom has this obsession with hosting parties for my dad’s side of the family.” He laughed. “I think after all these years she still trying to prove to my grandma that she’s worthy of her only son, you know? And Grandma doesn’t help things, either. Every year, it’s something. She’s all smiles and backhanded compliments. Like, ‘Oh, Bethany, what festive decorations. What an interesting color combination.’ Interesting was always her favorite insult. ‘Oh, Lucas, you play soccer, not football like your brothers? How interesting.’”
Morgan glanced at him, her brow furrowed. “For real? You play soccer? How did I not know that?”
Lucas laughed. “Yeah, shocking. I mean, I know how into sports and all things school-spirit related you and Ris were.”
She forced a smile.
Lucas realized what he had said too late. “I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. Man, first I bring up your mom, now Ris. Worst friend ever.”
Morgan nodded, tamping down the wave of homesickness that so often accompanied thoughts of her friend. “So, fair’s fair. What do you miss the most from back home? And don’t say the Daily Grind.”
“No, not the Daily Grind. What I miss most… Hm… I’d say the thing I miss most is my cat.”
“You have a cat?”
“Yeah. Hector,” he said, effecting what he must have thought was a Mexican accent. “Hector the Protector!” he cried, rolling his r’s for effect.
She laughed. “How is it that sometimes I feel like I don’t know anything about you? You play soccer, your patronus is a cat…”
Lucas gently bumped her shoulder with his. “Get to know me better. I’m fascinating.”
“Sure you’re not just interesting?”
Lucas mimed stabbing himself in the chest with the potato peeler. “I suppose I was asking for that, huh?”
“How are the potatoes coming?” Ellie called from the kitchen.
Morgan surveyed the pile. “Just a few more.”
“I got this,” Lucas said, nodding at the unpeeled potatoes and grinning at her.
Morgan nodded and approached Ellie. “Okay, what’s next?”
Ellie handed Morgan a recipe and instructed her to start on the bread. After a moment’s hesitation, Morgan took the piece of paper and started amassing the required ingredients on the dining room table. By the time she had gathered everything she needed, Lucas was done peeling the potatoes and joined her. She was more than a little relieved to have his help.
Morgan and Lucas were taking turns kneading bread dough when Corbin, Joss, and Lia filtered into the room, confused looks on their faces. It took Morgan a moment to realize why they’d all shown up at the same time.
“I’m assuming this means training is canceled today?” Lia asked, addressing Ellie.
As Ellie nodded, Joss gave a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together in excitement. “It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is,” Lia said, sounding distant.
The flurry of food-making activity slowed as Lia’s palpable unhappiness radiated through the room.
Ellie recovered first, hitching a bright smile to her face. “Lia, would you like to help me and Wen—”
“I think I’ll just go back to my room,” Lia said quietly, cutting her off. “I’ll be there if anyone needs me.”
Silence hung in the kitchen and dining room until the soft click of Lia’s door told everyone she had made it to her room.
Joss was the first to speak. “Should I go…?”
Ellie shook her head. “I think she just needs some alone time. With the news about her brother yesterday and now today… I think she’ll be okay. It’ll just take a few days.” When the eyes of the Naturals remained on her, she sighed. “Her brother was going on a field trip and the bus was in an accident. It wasn’t anything major, and so far as we can tell, it had absolutely no connection to the Veneret. But he banged his head against the seat in front of him and got a broken nose. That’s all.”
Another beat of silence passed before Wen clapped his hands together. “You two wanna help?” he asked, his eyes on Joss and Corbin. “Because I’ve got pies to assemble and side dishes to prep…”
With a spring in her step, Joss crossed to Wen. Corbin’s eyes lingered briefly on Morgan’s and Lucas’s hands, both sets of which were buried in the bread dough. Then, seeming to shake himself, he followed Joss and began receiving instruction from Wen.
Morgan watched Corbin. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was on his mind—something he seemed set on keeping to himself. Then Lucas began working the dough again and she sighed, turning back to their task. If it was something she needed to know, he would tell her when he was ready, she reasoned.
The morning dissolved into early afternoon amid lighthearted banter and laughter. The cabin had only one oven, so Ellie devised a baking schedule for the pies, the bread, and, of course, the turkey. Despite their early start, she calculated that they wouldn’t be eating until a little after five that evening.
Once the bulk of the kitchen work had been accomplished and Morgan was sent on her way, she located the laptop and spent some time sorting through its extensive musical library, soliciting suggestions from whoever happened to be passing by at the moment. After loading her iPod with new songs, she moved to the craft table with the half-formed notion of making something for Lia, to help her feel better.
“Hey, Morgan,” Corbin said, t
ouching her on the shoulder gently. “Ellie says it’s time to get washed up for dinner.”
Morgan pressed her hands to her eyes before turning to him and offering a smile. “Wow, already?”
One side of his mouth turned up in a brief half smile. “Yeah. You’ve been here forever. What’re you making?”
Morgan looked down at the rectangular object in her hands. “A plaque, I think. It’s for Lia. I was gonna make a pretty frame and then do some kind of inspirational quote or something inside.”
Corbin held his hand out and she gave it to him. He turned it over and nodded his approval. “I think she’ll like it.” He set it down and raised his chin. “We should get ready. Ellie sounded pretty serious about us being presentable for dinner.”
Ten minutes later, all eight of them were seated around the table. Even Lia was there, though it took Joss some prompting to make it happen.
Before they began loading their plates, Ellie cleared her voice, calling everyone’s attention to her. “I know that this isn’t the way you all normally spend your Thanksgiving, and I know that most of you would probably rather be somewhere other than here right now. That’s partly why Wen and I wanted to make today special instead of just let it slip by.” She reached out her hand and placed it on her brother’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I know only a couple of us have blood relatives with us here.” She paused, inclining her head toward Morgan and Joss. “But, I hope—at least for tonight—we can think of each other as one big extended family. I know I speak for Wen and Greg when I say that the three of us care about each of you deeply.” She took in a breath and released it heavily. For a moment, it looked as though there were something more she wanted to say, but then the look passed. She smiled and nodded toward the food. “So, without further ado, let’s eat.”
The room filled with the scrape of silverware against plates and the low hum of voices. Morgan took the dishes passed to her by Joss and moved them along to Corbin after taking her portion.
The Naturals Trilogy Page 43
