by E. L. Todd
They walked inside and saw people standing in the corners, holding cups in their hands while they were engaged in conversation. Most of the women wore healed leather boots with bright colored sweaters. The men wore thick jackets that protected their bodies from the cold. It was evident that Weston didn’t have the heater on because of the cold temperature in the house. Calloway assumed it was because she anticipated the comings and goings of people.
A man that Calloway had never seen before came up and patted him on the shoulder. “Good game,” he said before he left through the front door and walked across the grass. The three of them stared at each other for a moment then moved further in the house. There was a Christmas tree in the small living room and the house was still decorated in the festive spirit. The kitchen table was laden with Christmas cookies along with chips, dip, and slices of pizza. Calloway looked for Weston in the room but he didn’t see her—she must be in the basement.
“This is so cool,” Breccan said.
Easton rolled her eyes. “Be cool.”
“I am,” Breccan said as he winked at two girls who walked by. Even Calloway laughed at his absurd behavior.
“That doesn’t work on girls,” Calloway said.
“How would you know?” Breccan said. “The two girls you liked had no interest in you.”
“Breccan!” Easton said. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“Whatever,” he said as he walked toward the stairs that led down to the basement. “I’m going to say hello to Weston. She doesn’t have a problem with me.” He climbed down the stairs and the two of them followed behind.
The basement was packed with people sitting in chairs and standing in the middle of the room. The walls were decorated with Christmas lights and there was a table full of punch and soda. Calloway wondered if any of these students were members of the White Wing—they probably were.
“Hey guys,” Scott said as he approached them. “Glad you could make it.”
“Hey,” Calloway said. “How was your holiday?”
Scott put his hand over his stomach. “Filling.” He smiled.
Michael walked over and clapped Calloway on the shoulder. “Hey, dude. Merry Christmas,” he said.
Calloway nodded. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “How did your finals go?”
“Well,” Michael said. “I passed—I think.”
Scott shrugged. “I don’t even know,” he said. “I got busy toward the end of the semester.”
“I’m sure you did fine,” Calloway said.
“I hope you’re right,” he said. Two pretty girls walked by and Scott and Michael turned to the each other. Scott turned to Calloway. “Will you excuse us?” he said. “We still have to find someone to kiss at midnight.”
“Good luck. “Calloway smiled.
Calloway heard Weston before he saw her. The sound of her laughter was amplified over the rest of the sounds of the room. Calloway didn’t hear the other conversations about the Christmas holidays or the arguments about favorite sports teams. He just heard the sweet sound of her laughter.
When he finally saw Weston across the room he was shocked to see who she was laughing at. Marquan was smiling at her while he talked, and Weston kept spilling her glass while she chuckled with merriment. Calloway never asked if Marquan knew who Weston was because he never thought about it—they did go to the same college.
“Isn’t that your weird friend?” Breccan asked.
“Why is he weird?” Calloway asked. “He’s cool.” Calloway walked over to him and clapped Marquan on the shoulder. “Hey. Long time no see.”
Hey,” he said as he embraced Calloway. “I’m starting to think you’re following me.”
“To the end of the earth and back.” Calloway smiled. He looked at Weston and they stared at each other for a moment. The brown strands of hair curved around her face and contrasted against the pale skin of her features. Calloway noticed the freckle in the corner of her mouth but he looked away from the blemish and into her blue eyes. She seemed neither happy nor angry to see him—just sad—like their meeting was painful to her. Calloway wished it didn’t have to be this way—they were still friends.
Marquan felt the tension. “I’m going to get me some eggnog.” He walked away and left them standing together.
Calloway was the first to speak. “Thank you for inviting us.”
Weston put her glass of punch down and tightened the gold sweater around her throat. It was the same one he’d seen her wear before. He pictured how a dark blue scarf would look on her; it would match her eyes perfectly and contrast against the ivory color of her skin. The tone of her flesh reminded him of the white grains of sand on the Mexican beach—so pure and refined that it didn’t look like sand at all. She fidgeted with her scarf for a moment. It was the first time Calloway had ever seen her be nervous.
“Please don’t be nervous around me,” he said. “I’m not here to talk about—anything. I just wanted to say hello.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you for coming, Calloway. I hope you enjoy yourself. There are a lot of great people here. I’m sure you could make some friends.”
Calloway nodded. “I’m sure they are great.”
“How do you know Marquan?”
“We work together,” he answered. “He’s one of the greatest guys I know—the best.”
“I like him too,” she said.
The stood together for a moment, and Weston stared at his outfit for a moment. Her sight lingered on his combed hair. “You look nice, Calloway,” she said. “You’re going to have a lot of admirers when you start school in the fall.”
Calloway blushed. “I doubt that.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, I’m not interested.”
“Why?” she asked.
Calloway wasn’t sure why he said those words. They just flew out of his mouth like an unstoppable projectile of vomit. He didn’t even know what he meant. “I have other responsibilities,” he said. “I have to save the world.”
She nodded. “It takes up a lot of time.”
“Yes.” He laughed. “Too much time.”
“Well, have fun tonight, Calloway.” She turned around and walked away from him. It wasn’t until he saw her turn away that he realized how much pain he was in. He hated having such a strained friendship with her—he wanted to be back to normal. He wondered if she regretted the kiss she gave him in the car after formal—he hoped not.
“What was that about?” Marquan asked when he came back over. He handed Calloway a glass of cherry punch.
Calloway sighed. “Nothing.”
“Are you involved?”
“Not at all,” Calloway said. “Weston is just a friend.”
Marquan nodded. “Don’t let that woman break your heart—she does it to everyone.”
“So I’ve heard,” Calloway smiled. He dropped his gaze from Weston and looked at his friend. “Are you in the White Wing?”
Marquan stared at him for a moment. “You know of it?”
“Well, Weston is my friend,” Calloway said. “She showed it to me. That’s why I plan to attend Fresno University in the fall. I wanted to be a member of the organization. Fight against the ones that seek to destroy us.”
“And themselves,” Marquan added. “The whole thing is pretty crazy when you think about it. When I was first recruited, I thought Weston was a beautiful madwoman.”
“She still is.” Calloway laughed.
“You got that right,” Marquan said.
“And what do you do in the organization?” Calloway asked. “Anything specific?”
“We aren’t supposed to talk about that stuff with outsiders,” he said.
Calloway nodded. “I understand.”
They were quiet for a moment and Calloway sipped his punch.
“Whatever,” Marquan said. “I know you’re trustworthy. I try to develop biological weapons against the Hara-Kirs, along with genetic tests to determine if they are human or not.”
“And how
is that going?”
Marquan shrugged. “It’s really difficult to tell them apart, even with their DNA. Their anatomical features differentiate from ours but their genetic make up is still very similar; ninety-nine percent similar.” He drank from his punch and put it down. “It doesn’t help much because when I compared my DNA to Weston’s it matched by ninety-nine percent, but when I compared her genetic makeup with someone else it was one-hundred percent identical. So basically it’s hard to tell. Only if the DNA is a perfect match will I know without a doubt they are human.”
“So, if the DNA matches by ninety-nine percent, the subject could be human or Hara-Kir?”
“You understand my problem?” Marquan laughed. “I can’t be sure.”
Calloway nodded. “That is a head scratcher,” he said. “What else are you trying to achieve? I’ve offered to help but Weston claims I’m too young.”
“You have to be a legal adult,” Marquan said. “We want to research the Anti-Life and study it before we cross over and defeat them. It doesn’t seem feasible to have the battle on this side of the portal, which is probably better because there are no bystander casualties.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Calloway asked.
He shrugged. “We haven’t figured out all the details. We haven’t even found a single portal. I have a feeling no one has a clue where to start.”
“Why don’t you just follow a Hara-Kir and see where it goes?”
Marquan shook his head. “They never return to where they came from. They engage us until they die or we die. I suspect they aren’t allowed to return. They keep fighting until they are killed.”
“Like a suicide bomber?” Calloway asked.
“I guess you could say that,” Marquan said. “They want to end their lives as well as ours.”
“I still don’t understand everything,” Calloway said. “I feel lost in the dark. Weston won’t elaborate further and I feel like she even lacks knowledge.”
“Don’t be mad at her,” Marquan said. “She’s just trying to protect you. She couldn’t live with herself if a minor died under her protection—that’s all.”
Calloway sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.” He smiled. “I’ve known Weston for a long time.”
Since Marquan confided information to him, Calloway felt obligated to reciprocate that trust by revealing his possession of the portal key and the location of the portal in the Grandiose Historian Library. He wanted to confess his knowledge about the Kirin Book but he held it back, knowing he had to keep his secrets since Marquan wasn’t trustworthy. He might tell Weston. Calloway needed to prove his allegiance to the Life, and it had to be clear to everyone—especially Weston—before he revealed his knowledge
Breccan and Weston approached them and stood beside Calloway.
“Hey,” Marquan said with a smile. “It’s Breccan, right?”
“Yeah,” Breccan said dismissively. He turned to Calloway. “Guess who’s here?”
Easton rolled her eyes at Breccan’s rudeness and extended her hand to Marquan. “Hello,” she said. “I’ve seen you before. I’m Weston’s younger sister.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said as he shook her hand. “I see the resemblance.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.” Easton laughed.
“Yes, it is.” He laughed.
Calloway turned to Breccan. “Who’s here?” he asked.
Breccan nodded toward the center of the room. Calloway felt his heart accelerate when he saw Beatrice standing with two of her friends. She was wearing tight-fitted jeans with a green jacket that matched the color of her formal dress and accentuated the emeralds of her eyes. Her eyes locked onto his and after a moment of staring, Calloway looked away and returned to Marquan. “I don’t care that she’s here,” he said.
“But I bet Hawk isn’t too far behind,” Breccan said.
“I don’t think so,” Easton said. “It looks like she’s just with her friends tonight.”
“Good for her,” Calloway said. Even though he was irritated with Beatrice’s dismissive attitude he still cared for and he wasn’t sure why. She obviously had no empathy or respect for him. If she cared for him she wouldn’t have allowed her boyfriend to tease him mercilessly for so long. “She’s just going to ignore me like usual—I don’t exist.”
“I think she’s walking over here,” Easton said.
Calloway didn’t look. “No, she isn’t. I can guarantee you she’s not.”
“Um…” Breccan said. “Calloway?”
“What?” he asked as he turned to him. Beatrice was standing next to Breccan and she was looking at Calloway. He had to stare at her for a moment before he realized this was really happening. She’d never spoken to him before—this was the first time.
“Hey,” she said.
“Uh,” Calloway mumbled. “Hi.”
Calloway placed his hands in his pockets and avoided her gaze. He didn’t know what she wanted but he had no interest to find out. If it was an apology, he didn’t want to hear it.
Beatrice glanced at Breccan and Easton, clearly uncomfortable by their close proximity, and she stepped closer to Calloway. “I never had a chance to thank you for what you did,” she said over the music.
Breccan laughed loudly and slapped his knee. “When did you not have a chance? Every day in the English class you both have? Or how about during Photography? The opportunity just hasn’t presented itself?”
Beatrice avoided his look and focused her gaze on the ground. It was obvious how nervous she was to speak to Calloway and the insults were stinging her courage. Calloway pitied her saddened expression.
“I appreciate it, Calloway,” Beatrice said. “Thank you for helping me.”
It was Easton’s turn to be furious. “How can you say that when stand by and watch Calloway take the jokes, insults, and harassments without doing a single thing to stop it? And then you go back to the jerk that Calloway protected you from. You are a—”
“That’s enough.” Calloway silenced her. “I can handle this.” He turned back to Beatrice and saw her cross her arms over her chest, clearly frightened by the venomous words of his two friends. He hated to see her forlorn expression and he wished Easton hadn’t yelled at her. “I apologize on my behalf of my two friends. They are just—protective.”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry—about everything.”
Calloway stared into her green eyes and the sight reminded him of the summer grass outside his house. The strands of blonde hair fell to her shoulders and across her jacket. Calloway was much taller than her—by over a foot—and he felt enormous compared to her petite size. “It’s okay,” he said. “I forgive you.”
“You do?” she asked.
Calloway nodded. “Yes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Breccan said. “How stupid are you? The only reason why Beatrice is speaking to you is because her friends are upstairs and no one else from school is here—there are no witnesses!”
Easton stepped toward Calloway. “And she’s only apologizing to you because you’re wearing a change of clothes and don’t look like a poor kid,” Easton said. “If you were wearing your normal attire she wouldn’t have even noticed you. That’s all this girl cares about—social position, popularity, and material positions—a loser.”
Calloway glared at them. “That’s enough!” he said. “Stop talking to her like that. She came over to apologize—not to be placed on trial. Now drop it.” He turned back to Beatrice. “Once again, I apologize for their rudeness.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Well, I guess I’ll go now.” She turned on her heel and walked back into the throng of the party. Calloway watched her go, wondering if she meant a single word she said.
He turned to his two friends and glared at them. “You didn’t have to attack her like that.”
Breccan was dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me? That girl has stood b
y and watched you suffer all year, and after one apology, she’s vindicated?” He looked at Easton then back at Calloway. “It’s water under the bridge?”
“She just wanted to apologize,” Calloway said. “It’s not like I’m marrying her.”
Easton shook her head. “When we return to school she’s going act exactly the same—she’ll ignore you completely while she makes out with Hawk during lunch period—completely indifferent to you and your existence.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Calloway asked. “Reject her apology?”
“I would have,” Marquan said. He had been silent during the exchange but now he found his voice. “She just feels guilty and she’s trying to make herself feel better. Convince herself that she really is a good person because she apologized.”
“You guys are right,” Calloway said. “She probably will act the same but it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m tired of seeing you get hurt,” Easton said. “You’re always giving people another chance when they don’t deserve it. She’s just going to disappoint you.”
“This conversation is over,” Calloway said. “I’m done listening to this.”
When he looked at the stairway he saw Hawk and his friends descending into the basement, and he felt the anger return. All he wanted was one day that was Hara-Kir and Hawk free. He couldn’t catch a break. Hawk and his five buddies came into the basement, and Calloway knew Hawk would want retribution for the formal dance. Now that they weren’t in school, Calloway wasn’t inclined to be so restrained. There were no repercussions of being caught and no possibility that an infraction would be written on his permanent record.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Easton sighed.
“I wonder what Beatrice is going to do,” Breccan said sarcastically.
“Look who got new clothes for Christmas!” Hawk shouted when he approached Calloway. “I didn’t know the Salvation Army had such a good selection.”
The other kids turned and looked at Hawk as he yelled at Calloway. They backed away to the corner, expecting a fight, and they watched with apprehension. They formed a large gap in the middle of the room, yielding the floor to Hawk and Calloway.
