by Lewis, D. C.
Picking up the chair that was already covered in moisture from the wet grass, Kiera slid her hand up and down one of the legs and then another, wiping off as much water as she could so that she could get a better grip.
Relaxing her control of her other side, she couldn't feel any difference until she started to pull the legs in opposing directions. It seems as if she had hardly started pulling when she heard the crack of wood and suddenly stumbled forward as she lost her balance when the legs flew violently apart. Kiera was amazed at how easy that was. Allowing herself a little smile she then proceeded to reduce the rest of the chair to kindling. Surveying her work, she was quite proud of herself having accomplished this all on her own. It felt good to take on the stressors of the day on the chair, to engage in some physical destruction. Kiera was surprised at how easy it was to loosen control on her abilities. She had often wondered over the years if she had repressed them so long that she had lost them. Part of her wished that it were so, another was glad that it wasn't.
"It was just because I was curious," she reassured herself since she had acted so out of character. "It doesn't mean that this will ever happen again," she said while firmly putting the restraints back in place. Walking back inside, she continued to try to justify her actions and make herself feel better. She thought of an analogy about her car and its top speed of 155 miles per hour. Just because it could go 155, doesn't mean that Kiera has to drive it that fast. The power was there, but she doesn't have to use it, though she did have to admit to herself that she has tested that top speed on more than one occasion on a particularly long stretch of road on the opposite end of town. This was enough for her to assuage any guilty feelings about what she did. She would never have to use her abilities again. Satisfied, she went back inside.
Fourteen
Feeling the need to get out of the house but also knowing that whatever happened, she needed to be home when Katrina got back, Kiera figured she had about four hours to burn. It had been in the back of her mind for a few days that she really needed to see Brandon. She hadn't seen him since the night he was assaulted by Josh, part of it was because she felt guilty about the entire evening. Brandon hadn't wanted to go out, but she had persuaded him, promising to keep him safe, and she had failed to live up to that promise. The other part was that she had just felt like being alone for awhile, so hadn't really felt up to socializing. The sad part was, Kiera knew that Brandon would be so happy just to spend time with her that he would instantly forgive her. That was the control she had over him. She doubted there was anything for which he wouldn't forgive her. Yes, she did take advantage of that at times, but it had always been indicative of their relationship, and they each fell into their respective roles comfortably and without complaint.
She was relieved that Brandon always gave her the space she needed. He wasn't clingy, didn't call every five minutes for days on end when he wasn't able to get up with her. He could call or email, leave a message, and let it go. To some degree, this was his power, the knowledge that eventually Kiera would get back in touch with him. He was a good friend, and a good friend was what Kiera really needed right now.
"Tonight is a Brandon night," Kiera said aloud. Picking up her phone and dialing his number, it barely rang once when Brandon picked up.
"Hello, this is Brandon," he said very formally.
Stifling a giggle, Kiera knew that Brandon had caller ID on his phone and not only had her number programmed into his phone, but had committed it to memory. This was his way of trying to be nonchalant, since he was more than likely very excited to hear from her.
Deciding to play a little prank on him, she replied, "Oh sorry, I think I have the wrong number," using her best airheaded voice, "Have a good evening." Before she could take the phone from her ear Brandon hurriedly said.
"Kiera, it's me, Brandon!"
"Brandon? I know a Brandon but my Brandon would have known it was me calling and would have said 'hello' to me as soon as he picked up the phone. You can't be my Brandon."
She was met with silence. She knew that he had no comeback, and should end his misery but she enjoyed making him squirm. After a few uncomfortable moments of complete silence, Kiera decided to let him off the hook.
"So in order to make it up to me, you have to hang out with me tonight."
She could hear the smile through the phone.
"I can definitely do that," Brandon replied, "We can go do whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" Kiera asked, already forming a plan in her mind.
Realizing that he might have spoken too soon, Brandon responded hesitantly with a meek "Yes."
"See you in fifteen," she said as she headed down the stairs to her car.
It had begun to rain when Kiera emerged from the house. This kind of rain did little to alleviate the dryness caused by the intense sunlight during the day but at the same time, was just enough to cause the night to be even more hot and muggy. It was like lying in bed at night under a blanket and feeling hot, only to have someone come in and place another blanket on top of you. That was the price you paid for living on the East Coast. Such rain storms were common; Katrina once told Kiera that when she had first moved to the area, and before Kiera was born, that it used to pour every afternoon. Having enough rain then was never an issue. Now the local farmers had to worry about droughts killing their crops and thus their livelihoods.
The water was flowing freely down the roof, the asphalt shingles expertly doing their job of keeping the inside of the house dry. As water collected in the gutters, Kiera could hear it race down the long vertical tube that carried the water to the ground, where it formed a little pool. Frogs and other amphibious creatures were gathered around, hopping in and out of the tiny pool, using their long tongues to catch their evening meals in the form of mosquitoes and other pestersome insects that liked to feast upon warm-blooded animals. A restaurant in town was known for its frog legs, a Southern delicacy that had to be guarded carefully when cooked or the little drumsticks would literally jump out of the frying pan and onto the floor. Kiera had always heard how delicious they were but had never tried them. Eating an amphibian just didn't sit right with her even though this completed the circle of life she was watching at the water pool. Everything connected with and was dependent upon those around it.
If she believed what her mother said, Kiera would understand that the creatures in front of her, and many others not present, were beneath her. That she was the absolute top, the pinnacle, of the food chain. It was hard not to feel superior to a frog but at the same time, there were things the frog could do that she couldn't. Just because she was bigger and stronger than the frog, why did that make her superior? Was it her ability to think and reason? How did that benefit her? The sad thing was, the frog actually had more freedom than she did. She was pretty sure that the frog didn't have a nagging mother telling it what to be when it grew up. The frog lived on instinct, on its own terms. Kiera found herself being slightly envious of its freedom.
Standing there under the awning, she contemplated taking an umbrella with her but knew that it would be more aggravation that it was worth and that the storm wouldn't last that long. She turned away from the congregation of cold-blooded creatures. A few sets of large bulging eyes regarded the strange creature walking away and wondered why it didn't come have fun in the water.
The ride to Brandon's was uneventful. As she had thought, the rain had stopped halfway there, still Brandon was waiting outside under a big black umbrella, ready to escort her inside, reaffirming his dedication to her. She put the car in park and got ready to step out. Brandon rushed over to hold the umbrella over her head, leaving himself completely exposed to the elements.
"It isn't even raining you big doofus," Kiera chided.
"I know, but you can never be certain when it will hit. Storms are very unpredictable this time of the year, you have to be prepared," Brandon said in a serious tone.
Kiera failed to mention that she doubted a storm would suddenl
y appear in the fifteen seconds it was going to take to walk into his house. Instead, she took her place under the umbrella and headed towards the door as Brandon trailed behind her, holding it steadily over her head.
Walking into the house, Kiera was assaulted by a wall of delicious smells. Her mouth started to salivate uncontrollably as she inhaled deeply.
"I was cooking dinner when you called, it is almost done. I was making some pork chops, there is more than enough if you want some," Brandon offered.
Kiera nodded her head eagerly, and stomach began to grumble, voicing its displeasure at being neglected. Cutting a big smile at her, Brandon headed towards the kitchen as Kiera followed. The closer she got to the source, the better the food smelled. She had no idea that Brandon could cook and it came as somewhat of a surprise. She didn't know why, but it did. Finally stepping into the kitchen, she looked around, expecting a disorganized mess, but that wasn't what she saw. The kitchen was very orderly, there were no dishes in the sink or in the drying rack. The floor looked like it was clean enough to eat off of, and bore the weight of a large refrigerator that had a TV in the door. Brandon was standing over a six-eye gas burner, putting the last few seasonings on what appeared to be about a dozen chops. The smell coming from the stainless sauté pans was intoxicating and Kiera's salivary glands kicked into overdrive, threatening to send their liquid coursing down the sides of her mouth.
With his back to her, Brandon finished cooking and piled the fresh pork on a big plate and placed it on the mahogany table at which Kiera was sitting. He walked back into the kitchen and was rummaging through the pantry, obviously looking for something.
"Kiera, this is kind of embarrassing but I had planned on having corn with this. But it seems that I am out, are you going to be terribly upset if we don't have a vegetable with this?"
Kiera was so relieved that the possible crisis of her having to find a reason to not eat any vegetables was averted that she didn't even give him a hard time, instead she eyed the food in front of her with hungry eyes. The smell was so powerful that she could practically taste the chops already.
"What do you want to drink?" Brandon yelled through the doorway.
"Water is fine, with just a little ice please."
Coming back over to the table carrying two glasses of water in one hand, plates and silverware in the other, Brandon set a place in front of Kiera, the fork going to its appropriate place on the left, the knife on the right. Not many people in Kiera's life knew the right way to place silverware around a plate. It appeared Brandon was just full of surprises tonight. Brandon then reached over to the platter of food and served Kiera first. She could barely contain herself from diving right in when the food hits her plate. It took all of her restraint to wait for Brandon to serve himself.
Finally sitting down, he looked over to her with a smile and exclaimed "Bon Appétit!" and proceeded to dig in. The food tasted just as good as it smelled and before long, Kiera had finished her plate and was being prompted by Brandon to have seconds. By the time they were finished, there was nothing left but a pile of bones on their respective plates, and those picked clean. Kiera gave up the fork and knife in favor of hands and teeth, feeling comfortable enough to do so when she saw Brandon do it first.
They had not talked the entire dinner, spending their time focusing on the meal in front of them. Their hunger sated, Brandon looked over at Kiera and asked her how things had been.
"Just fine I suppose. I am still dealing with mother and her plans for my future. She is becoming more and more adamant about what she wants me to do with my life. I am so confused."
"Well Kiera, I have told you once and I will tell you again, at the end of the day you must do what makes you happy. That's what I did and I haven't regretted a single day."
"That may be true, but you don't have a father like my mother. She is very strong-willed and used to getting her way. She fully expects me to abide by her decision, she says I have no choice."
"No choice?" Brandon asked, "Of course you have a choice, we all have choices, it is part of what makes us human."
"So you don't believe in fate?"
"What do you mean, the idea that our lives are already written and we are just abiding by a script that we have no control over?" When Kiera nodded her head, Brandon continued, "No, I don't believe in that at all. Let me show you." Standing up, Brandon walked over towards the kitchen and returned with a glass. He held the glass up and let it fall to shatter all over the floor. "Was it fate that caused me to do that? Was it already written somewhere that tonight I would drop a glass and let it break so that I would have to spend the next thirty minutes picking up glass shards?"
Frowning, Kiera thought about Brandon's statement. "No, I guess not, but at the same time, wasn't it the fate of the glass to break? Once you set those events in motion, the glass had no choice but to fall and break. All it needed was a little interference on your part. Couldn't we say that we get that interference or push the moment we are born? That once that happens, we follow a prescribed series of events that shapes how our lives are lived? That what we think of as choice is only an illusion?”
"To some degree, you are right. The glass's fate was pretty much decided the second it left my hand but that isn't always the case. Have you ever dropped a glass and it not shatter? I have, on multiple occasions. The thing should have but it didn't. But I think that you are overlooking something. The glass has no ability to think, to reason. It has no choice. Outside influence definitely controls it. It certainly can't move on its own, fill itself up, wash itself. It depends upon an outside force. We on the other hand, do have those abilities that the glass lacks. We do know right from wrong, up from down. We do have control of our lives. The only time we don't is when we allow someone else to take that control from us."
Kiera was taken back by this other side of Brandon. He seemed so sure and so knowledgeable. She never knew just how deep he was. A modern-day philosopher. While not fully convinced that he was right, Kiera did feel better. It also made her feel closer to him than she had anybody else in her entire life.
For the second time that evening, she was envious of another creature. She was envious of Brandon's normal life and wished she could confide in him about her abnormal one. She believed that if anybody would accept her, it would be he, but a fear of rejection kept her from revealing her deepest, darkest, and oldest secret. She wished she could trade places with him for just one day.
Before she knew it, tears started to well up in her eyes and she walked over and fell into Brandon's arms sobbing. Taken aback, Brandon just stood there for a few seconds before putting his arms around her and gently squeezing her closer to his body. Unsure of what to do, he lovingly rubbed her back as she wept.
Standing there in Brandon's arms, Kiera felt safe, almost like being in her room back home. There was just something so comfortably familiar about Brandon that helped to stabilize her in dire moments such as this. Laying her head against his chest, she could easily make out his heartbeat, hearing it start to increase its pace. It felt good being this close to him, the one person in the world who would support her no matter what. Looking up, she peered into his deep blue eyes, losing herself in their depth and love. In a trance, she reached up on her tiptoes, closed her eyes and puts her lips to his. It felt like a bolt of electricity shoot through her when their lips met, sending shivers up and down her body. Pressing herself closer to his body, Kiera's kiss became more passionate, her tongue slowly finding its way into his mouth. Her breath quickened, matching Brandon's already increased inhalations, her heart feeling like it was going to beat out of her chest. Brandon reciprocated the kiss. In the back of her mind Kiera was pleasantly surprised at how good a kisser he was. Not some sloppy mess that tried to inhale her entire face, but a man who seemed to have had a lot of practice.
"Some people are just naturals," she thought to herself.
Standing there in their passionate embrace, Kiera suddenly glimpsed a vision in her head that pa
ssed too quickly for her to decipher but was distracting enough for her to come to her senses and pull her lips from Brandon's. She found herself not really wanting to, but the rational part of her knew that this had the potential to cloud her relationship with Brandon. She didn't think she could take losing his friendship, especially now when she seemed to be on the precipice of losing so many other things. Taking a step back, she left his warm embrace.
It took Brandon a few seconds to open his eyes. When he did, a look of embarrassment covered his face and he took a step back, turning his back to her.
"Kiera, I am so sorry," he said with his head bowed, "I don't know what came over me. If you want to leave, I understand. "
"Just like him," she thought, "I instigate the kiss and he apologizes." Understanding that she quickly needed to lighten the mood, Kiera put her hand on his shoulder to turn him around to face her. "It's not your fault. I controlled your fate by giving you no choice. You are powerless in my presence," she said, adding a fake evil laugh.
She would never fully understand how much Brandon appreciated this statement. He had been concerned that this was going to be the end of their friendship, that a boundary had been overstepped and that things would never be the same. He fully expected his last vision of Kiera to be the sight of her walking away from him, never to return again. Part of him thought that the kiss might almost be worth it - almost.
And just like that, they pretended the kiss didn't happen and things got back to normal. Although they both would relive that kiss over and over, for the rest of their lives.
"So then, what shall we do now?" Kiera pondered aloud. "The way I see it, you really owe me now you big oaf, taking advantage of my emotional state and all." A big grin split her face in two. "And I know exactly what I want to do. Grab your stuff and let's get going."
Kiera expected some form of protest from him since their last outing had been such a disaster. She vowed to herself that regardless of what happened, she would not allow a recurrence of last time. She silently swore that she would protect Brandon this time. Though where they were going, she doubted it would be an issue.
