by Liz Long
I nodded, pleased right down to my toes. “Come in, by all means. Not that there’s much entertainment. Definitely no video games unfortunately. Delia would kill me.”
He laughed as he stepped inside. “Probably, but that’s when you can hide out at our place for some Halo alien slayage. I’d offer you to come over, but Nik’s there now and it’s a mess.”
“I’d rather hang out with just you for a while. If you don’t mind.” I wouldn’t forget Gabriel’s smug warning about Nikolas anytime soon.
“Not at all. I’d prefer it myself, honestly.”
I filled a tall plastic cup with water and set his flowers in it. We stood in my camper, unsure of what to do next. He looked around and caught me as I hid a yawn behind my hand.
“Sorry, it’s really not you,” I apologized. “I’m not used to the hours yet. I’ll get there soon enough.”
Keegan smiled, then walked over and sat on my bed. “C’mon. Let’s talk. Maybe take a nap.”
I walked over to sit down and we both lay back on the bed. He put his arm around me as I put my head on his chest. He brushed the hair out of my eyes.
“This okay?” he asked me.
“Definitely.” I got more comfortable and found my ear right by his heartbeat.
“I could use a nap.”
“We have to be up ready to work in a couple hours.”
“I know. But we could nap for an hour and then get ready for the evening show.”
“I don’t know if I’ll fall asleep, but I’ll lay here for a while,” I said.
“Nikolas mentioned he wanted to train with you more. He wants to learn how you split your flames and make them dance.” I wondered if Keegan was fishing for something.
“Oh yeah? He’s already very good. I don’t know if he needs me.”
“Not as good as you. He was the best one here, but then you came along. He’s not used to being challenged.”
“I hope he’s not pissed about it.”
“Kinda the opposite, really. He wants to push himself more, get closer to your level. He really admires your talents. He said he wanted to hang out with you more, see if he could pick up tips.”
I said nothing, waited for him to come out with his question. He wanted to ask me about my thoughts on Nikolas; I could almost hear it on the tip of his tongue. For a moment, I cursed Gabriel in my head for his uncanny knack to read people.
“Well, I’m happy to train with any of you. He knows where to find me. I’d prefer he not do it right now though,” I said. I tried to keep my voice light.
Keegan shifted slightly and I slid my arm around his chest to be even closer to him. He definitely had no reason to be insecure about Nikolas. As if he sensed my thought, I heard him sigh a little in relief.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Gabriel.” He played with my hair, twirled it a little around his fingers.
“Not any more than I spent with you.”
“Maybe I don’t want you spending more time with other guys. Save it for me,” he teased. I looked up to see him smile down at me.
“Hanging around Gabriel is not nearly as fun as with you. It’s not what I’d call a good time.”
“Then why do you even give him any time at all?” He tried to sound casual, but I could detect a hint of jealousy. Or maybe it was a burning curiosity. I was no Empath. He was spending too much time worrying about other guys. Of course, the thoughts that crept into my head about Gabriel lately weren’t always platonic, so maybe he was onto something.
“He’s helping to clear my name. He’s frustrating as hell, but he’s been helpful.”
“Might need to be careful. You were already worried about him calling in his favor.”
“I know. And I was right—he’s totally gonna hold that against me forever. But I’ll take any support I can get with my current problem.”
“You haven’t asked for any help from us. We’ve been here longer, know all the ins and outs and people here. We should be a huge resource and we’re happy to help you. Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” I meekly answered.
“Just because we’re all grieving or have other things on our plate doesn’t mean we won’t help you with everything we can. Never mind that the Firestarters need all the help we can get and should stick together.”
“I know. I don’t want to put one more thing on everyone’s to do list. There’s already so much going on.”
“So why Gabriel, then? Why can he help you when you won’t come to anyone else? Not even to me?”
“I don’t know. At first I thought maybe his gift could be helpful.”
“You know his gift? There’s been speculation. What is it?”
“If I tell you, you can’t go around telling everyone. He doesn’t really want anyone knowing. I probably shouldn’t be telling you, but I like you okay,” I teased him.
“I won’t say a word to anyone, not even Nik. Promise.” With his free hand, he made an X over his heart.
“He’s an Empath.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. Why that reaction?”
“Kind of explains why he’s such an asshole. He’s got to bottle it all in and put up a wall to keep everyone out of his head.”
“I guess I never looked at it like that. Either way, he’s been keeping an ear to the ground about Marty’s murder.”
“So he’s reading people?”
“Uh…no, not exactly.”
“Why not? Seems that would be the quickest way to find whoever did it. Just have Gabriel look for the guy who’s full of hate.”
It showed how much Keegan and I thought alike that he and I would suggest the same strategy. Unfortunately, Gabriel’s stint in rehab was definitely not my secret to tell. Gabriel would be furious if he found out Keegan knew his gift, much less had trouble with it in the past.
“That sort of anger takes a toll on any Empath. He isn’t crazy about his gift, so he tries to dial it back pretty much all the time. It’s been a difficult few days what with the bar fight and Marty’s murder. He’d never admit it, but I think he’s worried about what that might do to him.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’d rather not spend our time talking about Gabriel though.”
He smiled. “What would you like to discuss then?”
“I dunno. Tell me more about your brothers.”
We spent the next hour talking about our lives; what it was like for Keegan to grow up in Boston and for me to go into a human world after being part of the circus. A couple years older than me, he’d also attended high school. We had similar stories about our struggles during classes, though when I told him I’d been a quiet loner, he admitted that while quiet, he was still a fairly extroverted person. He’d definitely had more friends than me and did more social things.
“You said you were in your teens when you got your gift. Did you get through the rest of high school okay?” I readjusted my head on his chest and he squeezed me tight to him.
“Even then, I could sometimes ignore it. I always worried, of course, but if I concentrated enough on pretending to be normal, I could do it,” he said.
“I wish I’d had the same luck. It seemed like my fire always remained on the tips of my fingers, ready to flame out and scare the shit out of everyone. You must have much better self-control.”
“Or you’re just much more powerful than I am,” he said matter-of-factly.
Startled, I changed the topic to how he came to the Donovan Circus at eighteen, to his friendships with everyone here. We even delved a little deeper, talked about what it was like for him to grow up motherless while I talked about the time period after my father’s death.
Somewhere in our conversation, he changed the topic.
“Lucy, I don’t mean to be too forward, but uh…I’d really like to kiss you again.”
I laughed a little. “You know, I’m almost a little scared of what will happen, both of us being Firestarte
rs and all. We won’t catch my bed on fire or anything, will we?”
“This is the first time I actually haven’t been worried I’d hurt a girl by accident,” he admitted. “I guess you know as well as I do how hard it is not to burn someone when you’re caught in the moment.”
“I haven’t had too many opportunities, honestly. I was always too worried, so I never put myself out there very much. But I guess with you, I don’t have to worry about any of that, do I?”
“Nope. I can’t promise I won’t catch your comforter on fire, but I’ll do my best.” He smiled at me, shifted slightly to face me and leaned in.
The next hour before the show…well, he was a great kisser.
Chapter 18
The next day, I tried to think of any decent plan to clear my name. I even considered asking Brooklyn to read people’s minds, but seeing as how that would be considered very rude, in addition to the fact she kind of scared me, I nixed the idea. I tried to ask Delia for advice, but then remembered that she knew these people. What if she didn’t want to hear that someone she considered family might be framing me for murder? When show time came, I carried what performers would let me, kept my head down, and tried to stay out of the way. The less they paid attention to me, the better.
Long after everyone was asleep that night, I was in bed mindlessly flipping through a magazine when I heard a soft knock at the door. I looked over at Delia; she was passed out in her bed, hair splayed across her pillow. Not even one of Renata’s earthquakes would wake her up right now. I quietly went to the door and cracked it open.
Gabriel stood in front of me, crooking his forefinger. “Come outside.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“About what? I thought you told me yesterday what you’d heard.”
“I did, but I thought about it and wanted to talk to you more.”
I sighed and took another look at Delia, who still showed no signs of waking, but opened the door. I shoved my feet into sneakers and grabbed a sweatshirt. He stepped back as I slipped outside and shut the door with a soft click. I sat on the small wooden step in front of the door. I expected Gabriel to stand or lean against the camper, but instead he sat down next to me. He pulled his long legs up and put his arms over his knees. We sat so close our shoulders touched. I looked up at the side of his face and noticed his very blue eyes. I looked away to avoid staring.
“Tell me a secret,” Gabriel said.
“What? No way. I thought you wanted to talk.”
“This is talking. C’mon. You already know my biggest one.”
“Which one, the Empath thing or the Rehab part?”
“Okay, so you know two of my biggest secrets. So tell me. There’s no way you could have anything as bad.”
I sighed. “I don’t really have any.”
“Liar. It doesn’t have to be some deep, dark one. Just something, anything to give me some idea of you.”
“What’s with the sudden desire to be buddies?”
“I don’t know. It’s rare that someone knows something so big about me and I barely know them. I think besides my parents, you’re the only one.”
“And that bothers you?”
“I’m intrigued, is all. I’m not usually compelled to speak of my past but I’m trying to turn a new leaf.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re a jerk the first few days you’re here and now you want to be known as the nice guy? You may have already shut that door on yourself.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to be the nice guy. New leaf.”
“And what does that even mean?”
“Maybe I’m taking your advice to trust someone. But for that, I feel like I should know you more.”
“You think you can trust me?”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, Lucy. Prove that you know me well enough to trust me and vice versa.”
“We’ve barely been here long enough for people to know us well.”
“For someone who accuses me of being a loner who avoids the family circus, you don’t really open up about your own life.”
“That’s not true. I’ve told Delia stuff. And Keegan lectured me yesterday about how I never ask for help.”
“You were with Keegan?” He shot me a glance.
“Yeah, we hung out here in my camper for a couple hours. Why?”
He shrugged. “No reason. He didn’t ask for the goods, did he?”
“Ugh, I can’t even begin to tell you how much that is not your business. But before you go spreading rumors that I’m some hoebag, no, I did not “give him the goods.” Geez, Gabriel.”
“So what was your response when he told you to ask for more help?”
“That I’d try harder to ask for it from him and our friends.”
“I see.” He looked down at the ground.
“What?”
“It appears as though you don’t trust me at all.”
I paused, even when I knew if he saw, it would give him an opportunity to confirm his suspicions. Just as I expected, he noticed the hesitation.
“So you don’t trust me.” His voice fell flat.
“It’s not like that. I don’t like feeling like I’m handing out ammunition.”
“You mean you think I’ll use it against you later,” he responded. “No, I’m not the nicest guy and maybe I don’t deserve it. But considering you knew something so big about me, I figured you’d play the game. Since we’re here and all. I thought I could show you I don’t hang around and stalk people or whatever you usually say.”
“My behavior isn’t entirely due to mistrust. If I let myself get emotional, I get sloppy with my gift. It’s difficult to control and if I slip, someone could get really hurt.”
“So you don’t trust yourself.”
“In a way, yeah.”
“You still don’t trust me though, do you?” he asked.
“I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it really is; I’m sure you’re plenty fun when you’re not being all bizarre.”
“Why do you always hide behind sarcasm? I understand it’s a defense mechanism, but it’s a bit much.”
“Um, hello, pot? I’m kettle. We’re both black?” I waved at him a little to get my point across. He didn’t miss it.
“Okay, so I do the same thing. Yet here we are, with nothing gained.”
“Ugh, fine. Let me think…okay, when I was younger, I may have accidentally stolen jewelry from a store. I didn’t mean to, but I had the bracelet in my hands, got distracted trying it on, and walked out.”
“Did you return it?” His Spock eyebrow appeared.
“I didn’t realize it was still on my arm until we were almost back to the grounds. I wasn’t with my parents and by then, it seemed like a lot of trouble.”
“A regular thief. You’re the reason circus kids get a bad rap.”
“I’m not proud of it.”
“Relax. You didn’t even mean to; I’m still unsurprised. It figures the one secret you have is something you have extreme guilt over.”
“Well, it was like a hundred years ago, so my guilt has been overcome.”
There was a minute of silence. Gabriel cleared his throat and looked over at me. “So. Another weird question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Can you cry?”
I shot him a questioning look. “Yes, I can cry…”
“I guess I meant…do you cry?”
I looked down at my hands. “Not often enough to be considered a habit or anything. Firestarters can cry, though.”
“I didn’t really mean it in regards to your gift. More like I wanted to know if you ever let yourself cry. You’re like a brick wall.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, but yes, I have cried before and will probably cry in the future. Do yourself a favor and don’t tell many people that. It’s a rare occurrence.”
“Did you cry when your parents died?”
“My dad, yes; only the first couple of da
ys though, because then I had to help my mom. We were so shocked when it came out of nowhere. My mom’s death, I think I cried…honestly, I was in such a numb, hazy state that I don’t recall every detail. The cool aunt may have slipped me some pills.”
“What about since you’ve been here?”
I met his unblinking gaze and kept my head high. “I’m really happy here.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Curiosity.”
“I don’t break down into tears or anything. Again, this doesn’t leave us and I have no idea why I’m even telling you, but yes, the night you saved my life, I cried a little before I even really knew what was happening. The night’s events hit me after I got into bed and I couldn’t really stop it.”
“You say it like you’re ashamed.”
“Do you go around admitting to people that you cry?” I pointedly asked.
“I don’t cry.”
“Of course you don’t, you big, strong man.”
“I think the last time I cried, I was a little kid, trying to get over the whole Empath thing. Or maybe someone else nearby was emotional, I don’t really remember.”
We sat in silence for a moment; I watched my fingers drum and dance on my knees. When I felt brave enough to look at Gabriel, I caught him looking at my hands, too. I took a deep breath.
“I have a question. Since we’re playing this game and all,” I said.
He looked down at his hands. “Okay. Shoot.”
“You said you’re an addict. What happens when something like Marty’s murder happens?” I had wondered that since he told me his gift.
“I feel it,” he said, shrugging. “I can’t completely avoid it. The emotions are always just there, buzzing on the surface. I focus on my own emotions—or lack thereof—and bring it down to where it hardly bothers me. The day after they found Marty’s body was tough. That amount of anger had me very uncomfortable. A prickly feeling, like the one you get before something bad happens.”
“What about other times? Like when it’s just me being irritated with you?”
