by L. A. Jones
Aradia had had a tough go of it with friends. She always knew she was different, and as a young kid she learned through unfortunate experiences that other kids weren’t so accepting. She drew indrawn. She didn’t realize what she was doing, of course, but she started separating herself from her peers. When someone came along who might be a real friend, she’d push them away before they had the chance to reject and hurt her.
Most of the damage to her social life she’d done herself.
She wasn’t a hermit, though. She did socialize, just not with anybody who might really be worth socializing. Her “friends,” then, usually ended up being people who were too self-absorbed or too mean for anybody else to bother with them.
That description pretty perfectly fit Aradia’s friend Jona Lee Burbance. She was short-tempered, shrewish, rude, and often quite cruel. Jona Lee was a few years older than Aradia. Aradia looked older than she really was, so they didn’t appear so unusual together. Whenever they hung out, Jona Lee had constantly criticized Aradia, who had tried to take the situation in stride.
On day, which began not unlike many others, Aradia was cutting school to hang with Jona Lee at the mall. Jona had belittled Aradia constantly about everything from her shoes to her hair. Aradia felt her temper brewing, but she mostly ignored the mistreatment.
They got bourbon chicken for lunch at the food court. Jona Lee paid for both of them. She pulled what was obviously a man’s wallet from her purse and paid cash from it. Aradia knew Jona Lee was not seeing anyone, but she said nothing and ate her chicken.
After lunch they smoked cigarettes in front of the mall and Jona Lee told her she looked inexperienced smoking, clearly intending it as an insult. After that they went back to shopping.
Aradia stepped out of a changing room to get her friend’s opinion. It would obviously be negative; it almost always was. But it was the thing to do.
Aradia was wearing leggings, a loose purple top, and a leather jacket. Jona Lee made a rude noise and was, of course, very negative. “Please, you’re way too fat to pull that outfit off. You look pregnant,” she’d said. In fairness, Aradia did look silly. She was twelve, she looked a few years older, but she was trying on clothes designed for girls in their late teens. She definitely was not fat, though. “You have no fashion sense.”
Aradia said nothing and turned back into the fitting room, closing the door and beginning to undress. That was when her friend, Jona Lee, opened her mouth one time too many.
“It looks like something your idiot mother would wear.”
Aradia did not hesitate. She didn’t think. She balled her fists and with all her force slammed them into the door of the fitting room. Her pent up anger and powers had found their escape.
The doors were fashioned with mirrors on both sides. The inside mirror shattered, and Aradia sliced both her fists pretty well. The outside mirror shattered also.
The countless, tiny shards of glass flew at Jona Lee like so many razor blades with speed and trajectory which was not natural. She threw up her arms instinctively to protect herself, shielding her eyes and much of her face. The glass dug into her severely pretty much everywhere else that was unguarded. Her outfit was skimpy, so that left a large surface area which was lacerated.
Jona Lee quickly transformed from bitchy teenager to bloody, screaming mess, and was rushed to the hospital with Aradia accompanying her in the ambulance.
Paramedics quickly began minimizing the damage as best they could. The entire time, Aradia sat huddled, whispering to herself over and over again, "What have I done? What have I done?"
Jona Lee had no permanent injury from the glass. Even the scarring was not too noticeable, though it was extensive. Given the circumstances, she basically had the best possible outcome.
After that event, Jona Lee and Aradia no longer saw one another.
Aradia became consumed by guilt over what had happened, and plunged into the depths of depression. She was no longer smoking or acting out, but that behavior was replaced by a new moroseness. Aradia hardly spoke at all, and never about anything meaningful.
That phase lasted about a year. Her parents kept a close eye on her, but gave her space. Eventually Ross and Liza were able to convince Aradia to forgive herself.
Aradia deeply regretted that the accident had happened, but she learned from it. Jona Lee had, completely unwittingly, not only taught Aradia the necessity for responsibility with her powers, but she had also helped to repair Aradia's relationship with her parents.
The incident had made Aradia realize that whether she wanted her powers or not was irrelevant. They made her feel isolated from everyone, but no matter how much she wished it, they would never go away, and she could not turn her back on them.
Almost as if a switch was flicked, one day Aradia walked up to her parents and hugged them both. They embraced her back. For a long time nobody said anything, then Aradia broke the silence. “I love you.” It was the first time in well over a year that she’d said those words.
From that point on she focused on learning to use her powers. She found that with her attention, they began developing at a steady pace. She began to sense the extent of her mind-reading, her summoning, her strength, and her innate knowledge of potion-making.
She was thrilled when she discovered an ability to heal minor injuries. It seemed such an ironic turn of fate that Jona Lee’s injury had set her on the course to being a healer.
What finally gave her closure for the Jona Lee incident was when, one day, she was able to seamlessly repair a family vase after it was smashed.
“Take that, all the king’s horses and men,” she declared triumphantly, carefully setting the vase back in its spot.
She wanted to do more, and as she saw it, she was uniquely situated to help in a big way. Her own father was an ADA, and she had powers that could help her solve crimes.
That was the first time they’d talked about her powers and how she could help her dad. They’d had the conversation many times since. It was almost always amicable, but the outcome never changed. Once in a while she’d, quite passively and without her control, get a vision which contained useful information. When that happened her dad would call it an anonymous tip and then investigate so he could back it up with hard facts. That was the furthest her assistance had ever gone.
On the whole, the situation worked. Aradia was finally accepting herself for who she was, but she still wanted to know where she’d truly come from and why she was the way she was.
“You have indeed grown up, Aradia, and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he said. Tipping the bowl in her direction, he asked, “Carrot?”
“No, Daddy, I don’t want a carrot."
He shrugged and took another big gulp of his coffee. How does he gulp his coffee like that, she couldn’t help but wonder. It looks scalding hot.
She was just about to say something to that effect when her dad stated, “You know, I don’t think I’m the only one who’s been holding out.”
Aradia suddenly didn’t care so much about his coffee. Nervously she grabbed and chomped on a carrot.
“You know what I’m referring to?”
Guiltily, she nodded.
“How do you think I feel about you lying to your mom and me and going to a party?”
“Disappointed,” she said in a hushed tone. This time she was unable to look him in the eye.
He nodded. He didn’t raise his voice at all. Normally his tone increased at any irritation, no matter how minor. For him to be so calm was more disconcerting than if he’d been screaming and red in the face. "You know, Rai, it is not just the lying and going to a party that I’m upset about. Since you lied to your mother and me about where you were, something could have happened to you, and we wouldn’t have realized. If you had gotten drunk at that party, someone could have raped you–”
“Dad, I–”
“Don’t interrupt me right now, Aradia. Dammit, I’ve seen so many cases come across my desk that look exactly like w
hat you did, except they don’t end so happily. Girls get victimized and end up pregnant or infected with HIV, hell, even killed. These things happen, all too often.”
“So, what then, I’m not supposed to have a life because I might end up in a shallow grave?”
“I’m not saying that, Aradia,” he said. Still his voice hadn’t increased one decibel. “What I’m saying is that your mom and I are here to help guide you. When you cut us out like that, though, there’s nothing we can do. We give you our trust because we know you won’t abuse it. But last night you did just that.”
She looked like a sad puppy with its tail between its legs. She hadn’t really thought about the situation from this perspective. Ross paused and took a deep breath.
"Besides, did you consider what effect alcohol might have on your…” in a hushed tone he finished, “abilities?"
Aradia gulped. She had definitely not thought of that. She usually had good control over her powers; the last real accident had been Jona Lee. But that control came from the fact that when she used them she had total concentration. If she was drunk, she might have let her concentration, along with her judgment, slip. Who knows what could have happened?
"I am so sorry, Daddy," Aradia said, sounding just about as sad-puppy as she looked. "I really am sorry."
"I know you are, honey," Ross said. “Bring it in for a hug.”
She got up and hugged him. He remained seated, but their heights worked pretty well.
"Being sorry isn't going to save you from a little punishment though, is it?"
"Um, yes?" she said hopefully. He chuckled, but shook his head.
Ross held up his fingers and ticked off the consequences one by one. "One, no more staying over at Rhonda's place until your mother and I feel like we can trust you again. Two, from now on you will help your mother after school. You will help her clean her classroom, organize her papers, scrape gum off the chairs and so on. Three, when I go in to work on weekends, you will accompany me and help me organize my office. You’ll file and make coffee. Believe me when I tell you that you cannot imagine how much filing and coffee-making there is to do in a legal office. And four, from now on, if you want to go to an illegal party, at least tell your mother and me where you will be."
Aradia was in the flow of the punishments, thinking about the nosedive her life had just taken, when the last one instantly grabbed her full attention.
She looked up, extremely perplexed, and said, "What do you mean?"
"Honey," Ross said as he threaded his fingers through his brown curly hair and sighed again. "You are a teenager. Going to a party is expected. Hell, if anything, your mom, and I are proud that you have managed to make friends at all in this town. The last place we were in... We were lucky if your teachers even spoke to us!"
“Kind of a low blow there, Dad.”
“Erm, sorry,” he said, realizing she was right. “But it’s kind of true.”
Aradia still looked puzzled. "So, what? You are happy I went to an illegal party?"
"Proud actually," Ross said with a smile. “I shouldn’t be, but I’d be a hypocrite if I expounded on the importance of honesty and then turned around and lied to you.”
"So then why are you punishing me?" asked Aradia, completely befuddled by her father's logic.
"Because, firecracker, you lied to us. I’m not mad you were there. I’m mad you didn’t tell us. And I’m mad that you did not take into consideration what drugs and drink might do to you specifically. Honey, whether you like it or not, you are not like other people. You have special conditions, and annoying or strange as they may be, they are still part of you, and you have to consider them.”
“I didn’t do any of that,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“‘Drugs or drink,’” she repeated. “In fact, I’ve never had a drink of alcohol.”
“Hmm,” he repeated.
“It’s true. Even back when I was all ‘OMG FML,’ I never had alcohol.”
“I have no idea what that means,” he said.
“Use context, Daddy,” she admonished jokingly.
“Well, maybe we’ll have a beer together,” he proposed. She shot him another surprised look, and he added, “Purely for educational purposes, in a controlled setting.
She laughed. The tension was broken. Her punishments were inconvenient, but she understood his reasoning.
“Hey, I do have one question. How’d you find out?”
“Well, you were here when I woke up this morning, so I knew something was up,” he said. “I was planning on just asking you about it though, until I read my work email.”
Aradia winced. She had an idea where this was going.
“Local PD apparently took a statement from you last night. Specifically they cited an alleged attack behind the Visitor’s Center and details about a party they busted at some kid’s house.”
“And you had the report emailed to you,” Aradia said. Immediately she turned around though and said, “Wait, no you didn’t. That was last night. No way the DA’s office would have it yet.”
He chuckled. “You know, you’ve got the mind for law if you ever do want to go into it.”
“What then?” she asked.
“You tell me,” he prompted. “Get it right and you’re off the hook for making our coffee next weekend.”
She thought about it and connected the dots. “Officer Ortega,” she said. “You guys have worked together. He gave you a heads up.”
“As a professional courtesy,” Ross added. “He came in as an expert witness for me shortly after we got here. The case was completely unrelated to the killings. He’s a good guy. How’d you know it was him?”
“He recognized my last name,” Aradia replied. “The other guy, Goat Chin, he couldn’t have cared less who I was.”
Ross raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask. Instead he poured the last few carrots into his hand and threw them in his mouth all at once.
Aradia cracked a smile as she asked her father, "So is everything okay now?"
"Mostly,” he said. “There’s still the issue of your mother’s punishments.”
“What?”
“She’s at the market,” he said. “I didn’t see my email until after she’d already gone.”
“So you mean…”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
So I have to go through the whole thing again! Aradia realized. And Mom is so much better at laying down the guilt trip than Daddy…
“You know,” her father said, “it might take some of the edge off if you tell her yourself.”
Aradia thought that through. He was right. “Will do, Daddy.”
She headed toward the fridge to make herself some breakfast. "Not that it makes any difference in my punishment, but I had a pretty horrible time last night."
"Really?" her father asked. “Based on what Ortega said, it sounded like a pretty fun party.”
“That is so inappropriate!” Aradia said. “Gosh.”
Aradia shut her eyes as she recalled the party. She remembered the initial boredom, the unwanted sexual advances, and the disgusting amount of alcohol-induced vomiting she’d witnessed. Any amount is too much, really. She thought of the smoke filled rooms and the teenagers smoking cigarettes and passing joints or bongs around. She thought of the crowded house and the shoving of people everywhere. Then after all that there was her ill-planned and, in retrospect, largely unnecessary evasion of the police.
"Yeah, Daddy," Aradia nodded, "seriously."
Then Aradia also remembered dancing with Roy, and the way Dax had watched her all night. He was creepy, no two ways about that, but she felt a crazy attraction to him. I’m not going to admit it, Daddy, but I did have a little fun.
Chapter Thirteen
“Freshly brewed, black, half a Splenda, just like you like,” Aradia said as she set the steaming mug of coffee down on her father’s desk. The cup was made to look as if it was composed entirely of duct tape. It was his favorite mug. “I used ext
ra coffee beans, too, to make it stronger.”
“Hmm,” Ross replied. “Thank you, Aradia. That was very sweet of you. Now what is it you want?”
“Want?” she replied with over-the-top feigned innocence. “A girl can’t just make her dad a cup of coffee?”
He chuckled. “Come on, Rai, spill.”
“I want to see the body,” she replied bluntly.
“It kind of sounded like you were asking me to gain you illegal clearance to see a murder victim’s corpse,” Ross replied. “But I know I couldn’t have heard you right, because that would be crazy.”
“Dad,” she said, whispering, “you know I might find something the examiners missed.”
“I’m not letting you inspect the body,” he replied firmly.
“But… What do you mean you won’t let me inspect the body?” Aradia demanded.
Her father was unflinching as he faced her, leaning back in his chair. “Exactly what I said, Aradia. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could do that. I’d need a court order just to get in there myself.”
“Okay, then,” she replied, “what about the crime scene?”
“That I could get you into,” he replied. Her eyes lit up like a kid who was promised a pony. “But I’m still not doing it.”
“But Daddy...” she whined.
“Choose your battles, Aradia. You don’t want to argue with me on this one. It will do you no good.”
“But it might do the investigation good,” she replied. “I want to be more involved in solving this case. You know I can help. I could help your department, your reputation…”
“This isn’t about me,” he shook his head. “Yes, it might help solve the case, but there is no guarantee that it will. And I can’t have you tamper with potential evidence.”
She pouted.
“Hey, Aradia, you want to know my biggest reason for not letting you get involved?”
She nodded sullenly.
“You’re fifteen. You should get to be a fifteen year old. You deserve that, and you deserve not to get sucked into every case that gives me trouble. It’s not about my pride. I remember high school. It was a great time for me. I wouldn’t have gotten to have half as much fun if I’d been out solving murders like the Hardy Boys.”
