by H. D. Gordon
Sure enough, there was the apartment building adjacent to my own, fire pouring out of the windows and the sounds of commotion on the street below. The camera was shaky, as if recorded with a phone, but its view zoomed in to capture a hooded figure scaling down the side of the building with a little girl attached to its back.
Heat flooded through me, making sweat break out over my forehead. It was surreal to see myself on camera, surreal to think that so many people had seen the footage. For what seemed a very long time, I could think of nothing to say.
Sam picked up on my state and tried to soothe me. “You can’t tell who it is at all,” she insisted, her voice low and forcibly calm. “It’s too dark and the hood totally conceals you. There’s no way to know who that is.” Her hand fell over mine. “Dude, no one knows it was you.”
I knew she was just trying to help me, but her words were falling on deaf ears. It was true that there was no way to know whom the figure climbing down the building actually was, but that was not what had me concerned.
What had me concerned was the fact that this video had been taken so close to my apartment, so close to home. This meant that either someone had been watching me by happenstance, or that someone who wanted to get to me knew where I lived, and this was their way of telling me.
The third and perhaps most worrisome possibility, was that someone I knew had betrayed me.
I tried to gage where the cameraman would’ve been standing judging by the angle, and concluded that it was one of the adjacent buildings.
“Aria, your face is as white as a ghost,” Sam said, pulling me out of my head. She gently took the iPad from my hands, tucking it away in her backpack. “Look, don’t worry about it, I’ll have that video wiped from the web before the end of next period.”
I turned to look at my strawberry-blonde headed friend, biting my lip hard enough to bleed. “Will you be able to figure out the source, to find out who posted it?”
Sam gave a confident nod. “I’ll damn sure try.”
“Thanks,” I said, standing and dusting fry crumbs off my jeans as the bell rang, signaling the end to our lunch period.
Sam patted me gently on the shoulder. “Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for.” She leaned in close, a half smile on her lips and her voice low. “Besides, you totally came to my rescue and fought a friggin’ werewolf for me. I think I can hack away at some computer keys for you.”
“Dude,” I said, feeling a little better for her efforts, “you’re totally my boo.”
Sam full on grinned now. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s boo.”
We laughed and headed to our separate classes, but as I walked down the halls of Grant City High School, I could still see the shadow of that anvil hanging over my head, following my every move.
CHAPTER 16
The day wore on, as days are wont to do. I sat through my post-lunch classes and finally made it to the last of the day—gym.
The gymnasium was large and loud, the florescent lights overhead glaring off the shiny hard floor. The walls were painted in the colors of Grant City High—white and blue—and an enormous blue jay with a ridiculous grin on its face looked down on us from beside an electronic scoreboard. The smells of old and fresh sweat filled the space, the room kept cool no matter the season.
The gym was shared with three other classes besides mine, and cut into quarters to accommodate us all. I never minded a good workout, but always had to be careful how much of my athletic ability I let show. Today, we were practicing archery, and the coaches had set up a long line of targets at the other end of the gym. They lined us up in fours and began their spiel about how one must shoot a bow and arrow.
As I watched, I had to resist the urge to correct the coach’s form, as I was sure that this would not be appreciated. I busied myself with examining the tip of an arrow, finding that though they were just for practice, they could certainly do some damage if fired correctly.
What’s that saying, when it rains, it pours? Well, that would be the fashion in which things seemed to keep heading, because there was nothing I could do about what happened next.
It was a wonder I was even able to stop it with all the noise in the gym and that in my head, but it was lucky for Matt that I did.
Though Matt was a year younger than me as a junior, his class was held at the same time as mine, and he happened to be standing in the line beside mine, waiting for his turn with the bow and arrows.
As we stood there, we chatted about things of no consequence, Matt’s natural light mood having a nice affect on my own. He was in the middle of telling me about a new map released on the latest Call of Duty, his curly brown hair bobbing around his head the way it always did when he was animated about something.
I felt the ill feelings before I heard the whizzing of the arrow. There was less than a handful of split seconds to react, and had I been fully human, there is no way my speed or reflexes would have been sufficient.
But I was not fully human, so I gave Matt a small shove, spun around on my heels and snatched the arrow that had come flying toward him out of the air, breaking the thing in my grip in the same instant.
A rush of anger washed over me, so potent I could feel it heating my back and cheeks. I was gripping the two pieces of the broken arrow so hard that my knuckles were bone-white. A few of the people around me must have felt the heat of my fury, because I noticed offhandedly that they were giving me a wide berth.
The world seemed to go a bit blurry around me, my focus tunneling in on the source of the now broken arrow. At no surprise to me, I found my eyes settling on Will Landers. My fury only intensified when I saw the slight smirk on his ache-pocked face, the pleased-with-himself expression.
Dude could have taken an eye out, or worse.
Before my conscious mind had any say in the matter, I found myself stalking over to him. It was the wrong day, and I was in the wrong way.
A second later, I was standing before Will Landers, craning my head back to meet the eyes of the large bully.
I held the two pieces of the arrow up so that he could see them, and spoke between clenched teeth. “You could’ve hurt someone,” I said, trying to force myself to remain calm.
Will’s eyes gleamed with the dull enjoyment of a sadist. He was at least two times my size, his shoulders wide and broad, his stature imposing. Signs of neglected hygiene and puberty marked him all over, from his acne-prone face to the peach fuzz on his jowly cheeks. The foul smell of his breath hit me in the face as he spoke.
“I guess it’s a good thing gay-boy over there has you to protect him, then,” Will responded.
Under less stressful conditions, this probably would not have upset me as much as it did. I would have recognized the fact that Will Landers was a haunted young soul with a legion of demons all his own to battle.
As it was, all I could see was red. I am, after all, half human.
Luckily for me, a familiar hand fell on my shoulder, stopping me half a heartbeat before I was able to do something I surely would regret.
“Come on,” Matt said, tugging me gently away. “He’s not worth it, Aria.”
Begrudgingly allowing my better judgment to take hold, I let Matt lead me away, but if I’d been drawn as a cartoon character just then, there would have been legit steam coming out of my ears.
CHAPTER 17
After this rush of anger, I was left feeling a bit fatigued. People often go their entire lives without ever realizing how much energy it takes to maintain such an emotion, and then wonder why they are tired and have headaches all the time.
Speaking of headaches, I could feel one coming on as I trudged into the girls’ locker room after gym glass and began changing into my street clothes. I had one leg in my jeans when Andrea Ramos approached me, because apparently, the personal clouds that had formed over my head weren’t done pouring.
Her arms were folded smugly over her chest, her short, dark hair slicked back at the sides and the top puffed up and
shiny.
When she just stood there and looked at me, I buttoned up my jeans and let out a sigh. “What?” I said, not meaning to sound as harsh as I did, but unable to help it.
Andrea’s dark eyes darted around the locker room, and her voice was low when she spoke. “I know your secret,” she said.
I paused, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest, but I was careful to keep my face composed and resisted jumping to conclusions. From her aura, however, I could tell that she was being honest; she did think she knew something.
“What are you talking about?” I said.
Andrea raised an eyebrow, her thin lips pursing slightly. “Don’t play dumb, Aria.”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to let any of my unease show. There was no way she could know anything about what I was thinking about… Was there?
Shutting the locker in which I’d stored my stuff, I slung my backpack over my shoulders and grabbed my skateboard. “Look,” I said. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but could we just reschedule it for another time?”
I went to move around her, but she blocked my way. That little pain in my head was starting to throb now, and I wasn’t really aware of it, but my free hand was clenched into a hard fist. My patience was about at its end.
“Andrea,” I said, “Please, move. Now.”
To my ultimate surprise, she only raised her brows and stepped to the side, but the smirk that remained on her face had my stomach in a knot as I moved past her.
I made it three steps before she stopped me with four words. “You’re the Masked Maiden,” Andrea said.
It felt like my blood went cold. I halted as if I was a robot and someone had just flipped my off-switch. A lump appeared like magic at the base of my throat. Turning back toward Andrea, I forced myself to remain cool.
“You’re crazy,” I said, because I’m a genius.
Andrea was leaning back against the lockers now, one hand in the pocket of her letterman’s jacket, the other held up so that she could nonchalantly study her nails. I resisted the strong urge to karate kick her out of this smug state.
“Am I?” she responded, still smirking.
For all the emotions roiling within me, I could only glare at her, my green eyes narrowed.
“Because I think,” Andrea continued slowly, “that you showed up in Grant City at exactly the same time as the Masked Maiden.” Her top lip curled as she went on. “You’re freakishly strong and fast, and you’ve got this self-righteous way about you, always trying to be the hero and making others into villains.”
My breath was coming shorter, my hold on my composure slipping. If I hadn’t been as stressed by other factors as I was in that moment, I surely wouldn’t have been quite so perturbed, but my systems were nearly at overload.
When I spoke, my voice came out flat and cold, and the sound of it alone was enough to make me give myself a silent warning.
“I’m pretty sure people turn themselves into villains when they do crappy things, like bullying those who are weaker than them,” I said, and found that I was leaning forward now, my hands fists at my sides. “But, the truth is, when they come up against someone they can’t push around, they turn into cowards, and learn their lessons the hard way.”
Off-handedly, I realized the two of us were the last left in the locker room. Everyone else had been in a hurry to leave, being that it was December 23rd, and the last day of school before winter vacation.
“So you’re the one who has to teach the lessons, Aria Fae?” Andrea sneered. “You’re the Masked Maiden of Grant City.”
To her credit, Andrea Ramos’s next move was faster than most humans are capable, but of course, she was not fast enough. She struck out with a right hook, her fist coming fast and fierce. Without thought, my body reacted, blocking her blow.
The next thing I knew, my forearm was pressed tight across her esophagus, her back slamming into the lockers behind her, and fear filling her brown eyes. We stood nose-to-nose, teeth gritted, and eyes blazing.
“What’s your problem?” I growled, watching with indifference as her face went red, her eyes bulging slightly. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Are you so damaged that all you understand is pain?”
It felt very much like my blood was afire, as if heat was rising off of me in waves. It was both disconcerting and therapeutic, both alarming and enticing.
Until Andrea choked out two words, uttered with the last of her breath. “Some… hero,” she said.
I stepped back as if snapping out of a trance, releasing her, feeling an instant rush of guilt. Andrea fell forward and coughed, gripping her knees and gasping for air. A bowling ball settled in the pit of my stomach as I watched some color leak back into her face.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and cringed at how lame it sounded. This was the second time in a matter of hours that I’d said this to someone I’d unnecessarily hurt. This was not me. This was not how I handled things. I didn’t go beating up humans, even when they sort of deserved it. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t just.
It wasn’t what a hero would do.
Clutching at her throat and straightening up at last, my teeth clenched at the hate blazing out of Andrea’s eyes. But behind that fury, there was a sense of accomplishment, as if I’d only served to prove her point. With a mental kick to myself, I supposed she was right.
“Not as sorry as you will be,” Andrea spat, and shoved past me, cursing in Spanish under her breath as she exited the locker room.
I stood in silence for several seconds, staring at the door through which she’d just left, my shoulders slumping and breath coming out in a sigh.
Words are powerful, impactful things, and two of them would haunt me in the days to come, maybe more than any words have ever haunted me.
Some hero, she’d said.
I flashed back to my most recent actions, to the look on Andrea’s face as I’d cut off her air supply. With this, gray clouds rolled in and darkened my mind’s sky, my old friend Depression whispering hello to me.
Some hero, I thought, as I stepped out onto the steps of the school building. I pulled my hood over my head and hopped atop my skateboard, fighting against the wind, among other unseen forces.
CHAPTER 18
Just as Rose had promised, the days proceeding the holidays saw an increase in business at the flower shop. As soon as I arrived there after school on Wednesday evening, Rose practically dragged me into the fray.
The work, at least, was a respite from the torment of my mind, as it took both energy and concentration. I really enjoyed putting together flower arrangements, and seeing the smiles they brought to people’s faces as they picked up the presents for loved ones.
When closing time arrived, I almost immediately felt my ill mood settle back over me now that there wasn’t a costumer or an arrangement that needed my attention. I gave the shop a good cleaning, making Rose practically shoo me out the door.
“I think the counters are shiny enough now, Aria,” Rose said. “You can go on home, dear. It’s already getting dark.”
Suppressing a sigh, I nodded and retrieved my skateboard and backpack from the cabinet I stored them in. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose.”
Rose gave me a look that was somewhere between amused and consolatory. “No, you won’t. We’re closed tomorrow. It’s Christmas Eve.” She paused, the former expression slowly being replaced with concern. “We don’t reopen until Monday.”
I forced a big smile, trying to appear indifferent. “Oh, right,” I said. “I knew that.” Pushing open the door of the shop before I could reveal any more of myself, I told Rose good night and headed out toward home.
Home. There was an interesting word. Is that what my dingy little apartment on the wrong side of Grant City was—my home?
Or was it back with the Brokers, among my own kind?
Or was it just a word I had no association for? A word that meant as much to me as the word ‘Earth�
�� would mean to someone in another universe.
I chastised myself for these thoughts, reminding myself that they only ever led to darkness, to a corrupted mind. Floating along the sidewalk on my skateboard, I told myself to just breathe.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I saw it was a message from Caleb, asking if I wanted to meet him at The Grind, I found that I was eager for the diversion. And, a face as handsome as Caleb Cross’s always made for a good diversion.
On top of that, I hadn’t seen him much in the past week, and I realized with a little jolt that I thought I’d missed him.
As I arrived at the trendy little coffee shop, I spotted Caleb already inside, waiting for me. His light brown hair was quaffed up in its usual style, his blue eyes glittering, and his expensive sweater fitting his form perfectly. From their auras, I noticed most of the females in the small shop were checking him out, and was a touch surprised to find that I didn’t like them checking him out, that it made me feel kind of… green.
The way Caleb’s handsome face lit up upon seeing me made any uncharacteristic jealousy I might have been feeling disappear, though, and my mood felt lighter already as I claimed a seat at the small table across from him.
He took my hands into his, dimples forming in his cheeks as he smiled at me, kissing my hands before passing me a hot chocolate.
“I feel as though it’s been an eternity, Aria Fae,” Caleb said.
I couldn’t help a grin at this. Caleb had such an open way with me that it never failed to make my stomach twist. The way he spoke to me would be amusing for its historical-romance affection if I didn’t have my aura-reading capabilities, because I could see that he always meant what he said.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Caleb,” I said. “I missed you.”
These words made his aura practically glow, and an ache shot through my chest that I had no attribution for.
“I missed you, too,” he said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. Chris has been keeping me busy.”
