Butterflies (Airborne Trilogy Book 2)

by Bree Wolf

  Here Gabriel stopped. He hadn't realized how much his parents' disinterest hurt him, how much he wanted them to see him. A single tear ran down his cheek as the little red-haired girl whispered, Well done.

  Chapter 5 – Dinner and a Show

  "Do you have a lot of homework?" his grandmother asked as Gabriel came in the door, placing his backpack by the coat rack and pulling off his shoes.

  "Not really. Why?"

  "That's good," she said, sounding pleased. "Because we were invited for dinner over at the Holmes' place. Can you be done by six?"

  Gabriel nodded, wondering why Liam hadn't said anything.

  "Ah, there's my boy," his grandfather beamed as he walked in the hall. "I got a question for you." He held open a magazine and, judging from the pictures, gestured to an article on e-readers. "Is it true that a tiny little computer can store as many books as I've got on my shelves?"

  Gabriel nodded.

  "And I could carry it with me wherever I went? And no matter how many books I kept on it, it would weigh no more than a chocolate bar?" his grandfather asked, staring at him incredulously.

  Again Gabriel nodded, a small grin playing on his lips. "You should get one. They are not that expensive anymore."

  "Nah," his grandfather shook his head. "Where do I ever go that I need to carry my whole library with me? Besides, I like the touch of real paper between my fingers." As he walked back to the den, head still buried in the magazine, Gabriel heard him mumbling, again and again. "Incredible."

  Retreating to his room, Gabriel sat down at his desk and took out another one of Mr. Eves' assignments. It had taken him too long to finish the last one, that Gabriel decided to start on the next one right away. Who knew how long he would sit with a pen in his hand and no thoughts to write down? Only reading the question caused a slight pounding in his temples as though this line of thought was forbidden. As though his mind tried to steer him away from thoughts that would ultimately hurt him. More than anything Gabriel wanted to heed their advice, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't risk failing Mr. Eves' class.

  Taking up his pen, Gabriel couldn't quite concentrate.

  What's the matter?

  Gabriel flinched. "Don't do that!"

  I can't help it! It's not like I'm intentionally sneaking up on you!

  Taking a deep breath, Gabriel whispered, "Why are you here?"

  I felt like you needed a friend.

  Gabriel nodded.

  Then what's up? Another assignment?

  "I need to write about what I am good at." Gabriel shook his head. "But I can't think of anything. I'm not really good at anything. I'm no good at football like Jack and Jordan, I can't paint like you, I can't write like Eddie and–"

  I thought you were supposed to write about what you're good at, and not what you're NOT good at.

  "Funny." A hint of a smile crossed Gabriel's face. "But that doesn't change that there is nothing I'm good at. I mean, I'm okay at most things, awful at some, but there is nothing I'm really good at."

  I know for a fact that you're wrong about this.

  Gabriel shook his head. "Okay, then tell me what I'm good at! I dare you!"

  What? You want me to do your homework for you? Are you a cheater?

  "Fine." Gabriel exhaled slowly. He felt like losing his mind. "Can you at least give me a hint?"

  Okay, let's see. Some people are good at one-word things. Others–

  "One-word things?" Gabriel frowned. "What's that?"

  You know, what you just said. Good at football, painting, writing, and so on.

  Gabriel nodded. "Okay."

  ...while others are good at things that can't really be summed up into one word. Some talents can't be labeled that easily. Some talents can only be explained.

  "Okay," Gabriel said again. "How does that help me?"

  Don't start your sentence with 'I'm good at...'.

  Taking up his pen once again, Gabriel looked at the empty page in his workbook and thought about all the things he did, day-in and day-out. What was he good at? He couldn't help but think about it any other way.

  Whatever you're thinking about right now, write it down!

  "What?"

  Just write it down. Your thoughts will lead you, but not if you don't take them seriously.

  "But–"

  Don't argue with me!

  "Fine." As his pen finally made contact with the paper, his thoughts ran out of his head, down his arm, into his hand and fingers and sprawled on the page.

  I don't like it when people argue, when people are sad. When they yell and rant and tears come to their eyes, I used to walk away. I thought if I didn't see or hear them, I could forget. But that didn't work, not at home, not with my parents. Whether I saw it or not, they still argued, and their problems still existed. They do even now. I'm far away, too far to know anything that is going on at home, and yet I know that they're not happy, that their problems are still there. I don't know how to help them. I never did. But sometimes I know how to help my friends. Or at least I try. I talk to them when they're sad or mad. I try to stop their tears. I try to make them smile again. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I can make a difference.

  Looking at the words before him on the page, Gabriel smiled. The small weight that had rested on his heart had disappeared, and all of a sudden he felt warm. Proud. Like he mattered.

  "Thanks," he spoke.

  Anytime.

  As the afternoon slowly wore on, Gabriel wrote and wrote. When his grandmother's knock came on the door, he had just then put down his pen, surveying his work. "Ready to go?"

  For a second, he had to collect himself, then put aside his homework. "Almost," he said, darting over to the closet. "Let me just put on a clean shirt."

  Stepping out into the hall, Gabriel found his grandmother standing by the door, while his grandfather just walked out of their bedroom, fumbling with a new shirt of his own. As he looked up, a frown appeared on his face. "She made you put on a clean shirt, too?" His eyes darted to his wife, who was tapping her foot impatiently.

  "Move a little faster. I don't want to be late. And no, Gabriel put it on without any prodding on my part."

  His grandfather looked at him and shook his head. "Traitor!"

  Gabriel laughed. "Sorry, grandpa. Mom taught me never to go to a dinner invitation in my day clothes."

  "I see," he said. "Still, I don't see what would be wrong with it."

  ***

  While his grandparents and Liam's parents exchanged pleasantries, the two boys snuck off to the back porch. The setting sun dipped the sky into warm colors of orange and red, purple-blue streaks zigzagging here and there as though lightning had decided to have a hand in the day's goodbye. With the turn of the seasons, a colder wind blew through Kenton Woods. Sometimes Gabriel felt sure he sensed the promise of snow somewhere on its wings. Not now, but soon the world would be swallowed up by a blanket of white.

  "Did you know about this?" Gabriel asked.

  Liam shook his head. "No, my dad said it was one of mom's spontaneous ideas. He didn't seem too excited about tonight's dinner."

  "Why not?" Gabriel wondered. "Does he not like my grandparents? Or is it me?"

  "Oh no, that's not it," Liam hastened to clarify. "It's just that my dad knew your grandparents when he was our age. I think he and your mom were friends, just like we are now, and he said it felt weird having them over." Liam chuckled. "He said he still feels like a boy around them."

  Gabriel shook his head. "It's weird to imagine our parents being young, going to school and hanging out."

  Liam nodded. "Yeah, it's like a whole other world."

  As they all sat down to dinner, Liam's father seemed to have gotten past his anxieties, discussing the benefits as well as short-comings of today's e-readers with Gabriel's grandfather. At the same time Liam's mother and Gabriel's grandmother were equally engaged in a conversation about cultivating own fruit and whether or not it'd make home-made pie any more delicious than it alrea
dy was. Observing the adults, Liam and Gabriel felt a bit redundant. Only when Nahla finally came down to dinner did the course of the evening take a turn.

  "What took you so long?" her mother chided. "Dinner started fifteen minutes ago."

  Nahla shrugged. "Sorry, Kaitlin and I had something to discuss."

  "What could have been that important?" her father asked, shaking his head. "It's very rude of you to be late."

  Helping herself to her mother's roast dinner, Nahla shrugged. "You wouldn't understand."

  Both her parents looked mad, but they put on happy faces, so as not to put out their guests and ruin the evening altogether. Liam's father turned to Gabriel. "So, have you settled in at school? Is it very different from your old one?"

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable when all faces turned to look at him, Gabriel answered, "Some classes are different–"

  "Bad different?" Liam's mother asked.

  Gabriel shook his head. "No, not at all. I really like the Art class." He refrained from mentioning though that the sole reason for taking the class was a deep, yet irrational desire to feel closer to Hannah. To see the world through her eyes. An artist's eyes.

  Liam's father nodded, smiling knowingly. "Just like your mother did. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

  "Guess not," Gabriel said, not sure how to respond. His mother had never mentioned what it had been like for her to grow up in Kenton Woods.

  "How is your project coming along?" Liam's mother asked, looking at both of them.

  "Project?" Gabriel asked, again unsure how to respond. As he looked over to Liam, he found his face frozen to a grimace.

  "Yes, the one keeping you at school this long lately," Liam's father added, eyes shifting from Gabriel to his son. A frown drew down his eyebrows as he took in his son's face.

  Observing their exchange, Nahla giggled. "Someone's in trouble," she sang. "I guess, there is no project."

  Liam's head sank, his forehead almost touching the plate in front of him as he tried to avoid his parents' questioning looks.

  Seeing his friend's misery, Gabriel spoke up, desperately trying to think of a way to help him. "Well, it's not my project, but Liam and I don't have all the same classes." Then a thought occurred to him, and he turned to look at his friend. "Is it the one you're working on with Jordan? She stays longer after school too, doesn't she?"

  Just as the faces of Liam’s parents started to mellow, Nahla spoke up. "Wait a second! Jordan is not doing a project. She was assigned to help the cleaning crew after school because of her reckless behavior during summer break." Her eyes turned to look at her brother. "Are you helping her?"

  Liam's face suddenly turned angry. "What if I am? That's none of your business!" he yelled, pushed back the chair and stormed out the back door.

  For a second, everyone was quiet, even Nahla.

  "Well, dinner and a show," Gabriel's grandfather said, trying to lighten the mood. "Why don't you go check on him?" he asked, looking at Gabriel, before turning back to their hosts. "So, you got one of those e-readers? I sure would love to see, if they're really as light as they say."

  Grateful for his grandfather's interference, Gabriel hastened after his friend. Opening the screen door, he found Liam sitting on the stairs, head hanging low. Feeling a bit uncomfortable because unfamiliar with a situation like this, Gabriel sat down next to him. "Why did you get so mad?" he asked.

  Liam shrugged. "It's Nahla. She's the greatest pain in the butt ever."

  That's not it, Hannah cut in. And you know it!

  Hearing her voice, Gabriel flinched.

  "You okay?" Liam asked, frowning at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  Gabriel nodded eagerly. "I'm fine. I...I just thought that Nahla might not be the real reason you got so mad."

  Looking down, Liam scooted over, leaning his back against the stair-rail. "What makes you say that?" he muttered.

  Gabriel shrugged. "Don't really know." Which was the truth.

  Oh, c'mon. It's so obvious. He likes her.

  "Who?" Gabriel said out loud, before he could stop himself.

  "What?" Liam asked in turn, frowning again.

  "Nothing," Gabriel assured him. "I was just mumbling..."

  Jordan, of course. Who else?

  For a moment they sat in silence. Then Gabriel took a deep breath and asked, "Why do you help her?"

  Liam turned to look at him. At first there was a question in his eyes, which then vanished, replaced by resignation. His gaze returned to the stair under his feet. He shrugged. "I just wanted to."

  "I see," Gabriel mumbled back. "You care about her." It wasn't a question, and so Liam didn't answer, but only nodded in confirmation.

  Chapter 6 – Yea or Nay

  "Did you get in trouble with your parents?" Gabriel asked as they rode to school together the next morning.

  Liam shook his head. "Not really. I mean from what Nahla said, they figured that I'd lied, and they didn't like it, but they were more worried than mad."

  "Why worried?" Gabriel asked, trying to keep up with Liam, who seemed to be pedaling as though the devil was after him this morning. "About what?"

  "After you left," Liam started. "My dad came outside and we...talked." Liam's voice grew quieter, and without another word he slowed his bike, waiting for Gabriel to catch up. Then they got off and walked the rest of the way. "I guess, he figured why I'd helped Jordan, and he gave me this speech about doing the right thing and being honest with yourself about why you do things, and not pretending to be someone you're not for someone else." He shook his head as though trying to clear his thoughts. "Honestly, it was a bit confusing. He just said that, when he was young, he had a friend, who had a dream, and because he liked that person, he went along with it. He pretended to have the same dream, and for a time everything was okay. But then he realized that he wanted something else, and in the end lying about what he wanted hurt his friend more than if he had been honest from the beginning."

  Gabriel frowned. "He didn't say what that dream had been?"

  "No," Liam replied. "Here and there it almost felt like he tried to keep it a secret."

  "That's strange."

  "Tell me about it," Liam said. "Parents! They try to teach you to do better than they did when they were young, but most of them haven't learned the lesson themselves."

  Gabriel nodded. "And what did that have to do with your helping Jordan?"

  "I'm not sure. I guess, since her punishment was justified, I shouldn't be helping her. And that since I am, I am lying to myself and I am not being 'true to myself'."

  "So, he's saying you knew you were doing something wrong and, if it had been someone else, not Jordan who needed the help, then you wouldn't have done it?" Gabriel summed up.

  Liam just shrugged. "I guess so."

  "So pretty much what Jack has been saying."

  Liam nodded. "I guess so."

  ***

  The following two weeks, life went along smoothly for Gabriel. School, homework, hanging out with his friends and occasional conversations with Hannah. Here and there, Jordan as well as Eddie complained about their extra work, but Eddie's thoughts were mostly occupied by his new-found mission in life; anytime they were not busy drafting 'The Firefly Girl'. Two weeks had come and gone and he still hadn't been able to figure out where the seniors were having this year's Halloween party, and Halloween was only another two weeks away. Determined to crash the party, he was more dedicated than ever with regard to his duties in the library. Occasionally, Mr. Thompson raised an eyebrow at his eagerness, but without anything to disproof his intentions, there was nothing else he could do. Plus, he was in almost desperate need of another pair of hands.

  Then one Monday afternoon, as they were all hanging out at the Sharpes', Eddie came flying through the door, face beaming as though he had won the lottery. "Everyone gather!" he called. "I've got good news!"

  "One, we are gathered," Jack said. "And two, take your shoes off before my mother
sees you."

  Slapping a hand to his forehead, Eddie complied quickly, before hastening to settle into his usual story-teller spot by the front windows. "Today was oh-so-worth suffering Mr. Thompson's disgruntled state." He shook his head. "If you ask me, the man needs a hobby."

  "One, we don't–ask you, that is," Jordan replied, jumping at the opportunity to get back at Eddie. "And two, I guess the book thing is his hobby, which is why he takes that stuff so seriously."

  Exhaling audibly, Eddie sank into his seat, shaking his head. "This is important," he chided. "Why do you people always try to get me side-tracked?"

  Jordan grinned. "For the fun of it! And besides, aren't you the master of side-tracking people?"

  "Let's move on," Eddie decided. He leaned forward and opened his mouth. "Today I found out something very important."

  "So, I take it whatever it is, it's not the location?" Liam guessed.

  Eddie frowned. "How do you know?"

  "You'd be bragging more if you had," Jack chuckled. "So tell us, what is it? We would like to move on with our lives."

  "Fine." A disapproving frown settled on Eddie's face, chasing away almost all the delight that had been there only minutes ago. "Today they talked about..." Eddie being Eddie, he still paused for dramatic effect. "The theme."

  "How is that helpful without a location?" Jordan asked.

  "Don't you even want to know what it is?" he looked at them all, one by one, his eyes daring them to disappoint him.

  "Fine," Liam said. "What's the theme?"

  Eddie grinned, took a deep breath and said, "Creepy couples!"

  Jordan laughed. "Oh, if it only had been creepy individuals, you'd really have a shot at the crown!"

  Again Eddie grinned, but, unlike Jordan, didn't take the bait. "Funny," was all he said.