by Debbie Kump
Then Micah surprisingly moved closer to me on the floor. He put one arm over my shoulder, pulling me toward him. “I’m sorry, too,” he whispered in my ear, letting the confrontation of our original encounters vanish in an instant.
Wrapping my arms around his back, I returned his comforting hug. For a lasting moment, we sat in silence in each other’s arms, feeling each other’s pain.
I couldn’t help but sense some of my emotional burden lift from my shoulders. It didn’t excuse what I did. Nothing could ever excuse that. But it’s a start. I released a heavy sigh.
Micah squeezed me a little tighter and his sideburns brushed my cheek. For a short moment, I felt safe. And normal. A small part of me wished I could stay and never have to run away again.
Then Micah’s phone rang, shattering the silence. Quickly slipping from my embrace, he pulled the phone from his back pocket. Holding it up to his ear, he said, “Yeah?”
Micah listened, his grief-stricken face quickly brightening. Leaning back against the doorframe, he dragged his fingers across his short hair.
“No way. Seriously, she said that?” he exclaimed and leapt to his feet, laughing. “Oh, my God!” Micah headed up the stairs, his voice growing more animated with each step.
My safe feeling quickly dissolved. Letting my head droop back into my waiting hands, I closed my eyes, wishing I could be like everybody else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the couple of weeks that followed, I quickly slipped into a routine, making an utmost effort to appear as normal as any other teen—or at least as any other teen who didn’t own a phone. At school, I walked down the halls keeping my eyes and ears trained on students’ mannerisms and patterns of speech. In class, I quickly learned how to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to myself. Silent, I sat at my desk giving the impression of following the lecture and taking decent notes while avoiding the risk of having to answer a question aloud. And in case the teacher actually called on me, I kept up with my homework so I could provide a believable response. I didn’t stand out in any regard; instead, I slid through the day, unnoticed by most, which suited me just fine.
Except one person seemed to notice me more than the others. Most days after school, Sully made his way to our house and included me in whatever they had planned. When he’d arrive, I’d take a break from my assignments to hang out with him and Micah in the basement. They’d set Zombie Dominion to a three-player game and teach me how to prepare my troops for battle. I doubted any of their techniques would ever prove helpful in a real-world application, but I certainly enjoyed feeling normal for a change. And most evenings while Celia prepared dinner and Micah claimed to be studying with Tessa, I’d help Cam finish his homework. Together, we’d sit on the couch and he’d read aloud to me. Then before he went to bed, I’d read one of his favorite stories to him as he snuggled under his covers. His bright eyes reminded me so much of my lost little sister that sometimes I felt like nothing had ever changed and she was still home with me.
Even better, Micah’s attitude toward me improved dramatically since he revealed the truth behind his previous animosity. Granted, at times he still seemed a little bitter about missing his driving privileges, but for the most part he stopped ignoring me, though Tessa more than made up for it.
One day when Sully didn’t come over, Micah asked me to play basketball in the driveway because he claimed he had “some time to kill” before he and Tessa went to the movies. I’d never played basketball before—but then again, he’d never asked just me to do anything before, either—so I couldn’t refuse.
Even though I sucked.
“You’re going down,” Micah taunted. He dribbled the basketball toward the hoop and shot. The orange globe floated high above my head and swooshed through the net without even touching the rim. He rebounded the ball and bounce passed it back to me.
I sighed. Counting that last one, he’d already sunk ten unanswered baskets and I hadn’t managed to steal the ball from him a single time. Mimicking his positioning and offensive stance, I stuck my cast up to block his attack and drove the ball down the middle of the driveway, hoping to get a lucky break this time.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to use that thing as a shield,” Micah protested when I guarded the ball from his reach.
I smiled with smug satisfaction, then slipped past him and shot one-handed. The ball teetered on the rim before slowly dropping through the net.
“Yes!” I shouted in jubilation. Now I just had to make up those other nine baskets.
“Nice one,” Micah said and grinned. He slapped me a high five on my good hand. Funny how it stung, yet felt gratifying at the same time.
A broader smile played across my lips and I readied for his next shot. This time I deflected the ball, sending it rolling across the lawn. I chased after the basketball then passed it to Micah, right as Tessa pulled up in her red Ford Mustang with the top down.
I gave a small wave. She didn’t wave back.
“Micah?” she asked, sounding more than a little irritated. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, Tess. After this shot.” He rubbed his sweaty forehead against his sleeve as he dribbled back for another attempt. “It’s all over now,” he told me, too low for her to hear. The side of his lip turned up in a cunning grin.
“In your dreams.” I bent my knees, copying the defensive stance Micah used whenever I had the ball.
He aimed and shot. The ball rolled off his fingertips, then sailed through the air. I leapt not quite high enough and missed blocking his shot. The ball had the potential of becoming another sinker. It hit the backboard, then the rim, but didn’t go in. Instead, it rolled off one side.
“Sweet!” I said and moved in for the rebound. Micah beat me to it and snatched the ball, dribbling back into position for the lay-up.
“Micah?” Tessa called again, her voice more strained than before.
“Just one more,” he replied, gearing up for his run toward the hoop.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tessa roll her eyes, shift and turn backward in her seat, rolling the car into reverse.
Micah charged down the lane but I knocked the ball away from him. It rolled into the grass behind the garage.
“You’d better go,” I stated flatly. I nodded my head toward her departing car.
“Oh, crap,” Micah swore under his breath and sprinted down the driveway. “Tessa, wait!” he called. He leapt over the door and landed in the passenger seat. Mumbling an apology, Micah fastened his seat belt, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. His lips didn’t erase the irritated look upon her face.
“See ya, Jordan.” He waved. Tessa released the brake and eased the Mustang out the driveway.
“Yeah. See you,” I whispered, giving half a wave back. I kicked a stone in frustration before plodding across the grass, begrudgingly picking up the ball from its final resting place.
Just then, Cameron exited the house, his soccer ball tucked beneath one arm. “Wanna play?” he asked, his eyes wide and bright. He batted his long eyelashes twice.
He acted so much like Sarah, how could I say no? So while Cam and I kicked the ball back and forth across the grassy yard, I contemplated my conflicted emotions. Did I feel mad at myself for telling Micah that Tessa planned to leave or at Micah for not electing to let her go?
Late that night I lay in bed. Back in Chicago, I ran across the reaped field on that sweltering Sabbath eve. Only things seemed different this time. When Skye startled me in the barn, I refrained from using my fire in defense, cautious of the destruction it might ultimately bring. I leapt on the bare back of the chestnut mare and sprinted down the dusty street. Then the horse threw me from her back. The Three closed in. I couldn’t escape this time.
“Join us, or die,” Gaia threatened, her emerald eyes trained on my face.
“Then end it,” I spat, masking the fear in my voice. I expected them to drag me off to a fate worse than death like they had done to Skye so many years ago.
; Instead, Gaia said in a chilling voice, “As you wish.” She removed a dagger from her cloak and lodged its blade deep within my heart.
I flew up in bed screaming as sweat rushed down my brow. My pajamas clung to my clammy skin. Desperate for air, I kicked off the covers.
It took a few minutes to realize I hadn’t actually left the basement of Micah’s house. Chicago remained a long, long time and place away.
My pulse still thumping in my ears, I meandered upstairs, hoping a drink of water would settle my racing heart. Clutching my glass with two shaky hands, I sank into a chair at the table when a sudden noise outside made panic grip my throat. My eyes fluttered wide.
How could they find me here? Already? Rising to my feet, I aimed my good hand at the door.
Waiting.
The doorknob rattled and then turned. I locked off my elbow, ready to strike. The door pushed open a crack and Micah snuck into the house.
His face paled as soon as he saw me. “What’re you doing up?” he hissed.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes.
He shot me a look like, What’s it to you? Then he gazed at me again, his face softening at my haggard appearance. “Something wrong? You look sick.”
I settled back into the chair, rubbing my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“The sky’s not chasing you again, is it?”
“Wha—?” My face blanched and I gave a nervous laugh. “Where’d you hear something ridiculous like that?”
Micah shrugged. “From you. Well, you said something like that. You were kinda freaky when we picked you up on the road.” Micah poured a glass of juice before joining me at table.
My heart thudded loudly inside my chest, wondering what else he had heard. Eager to change the subject, I wagered, “Rough night?”
With a heavy sigh he said, “Tessa’s pissed.”
I wanted to say, You think? After all, you almost blew her off to finish playing hoops with me. Instead, I managed an innocent, “Why?”
He sighed again, deeper this time, but didn’t reply.
“Maybe you should say you’re sorry,” I suggested.
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“So?” I countered. “It couldn’t hurt.”
He ran his hand over his short dark brown hair. “I dunno.”
It took me all of the next ten minutes to convince him to at least speak to her right away the next morning. Oddly enough, I didn’t exactly understand why I felt compelled to help.
After considerable effort, Micah agreed to apologize. Flashing me an appreciative smile that surprisingly made my heart skip a beat, he headed for bed, whispering, “Hope you feel better in the morning.”
“Thanks,” I replied, smiling wider than I should.
But I knew that I wouldn’t rest if I went back downstairs. So I stayed at the kitchen table. My eyes finally closed as the distant moon slowly sank beneath the hilltops.
CHAPTER NINE
The sound of persistent knocking woke me. Groggily, I lifted my head from the puddle of drool I’d left on the kitchen table and wiped my sleeve across my mouth. I stretched the kinks from my back and rubbed the sleep from my eyes when the knocking resumed. I rose from my chair and stumbled across the floor to peek out the curtains by the kitchen door. Strangely, Sully stood outside, raising his hand to knock on the glass again.
What’s he doing here so early? I unlocked the deadbolt and dragged my fingers through my tangled mess of hair. Stifling a yawn, I turned the handle, careful to keep my pajamas hidden behind the door and slid it open.
“Hey, Jordan. What’s up?” he greeted me with a wide grin.
I popped my head out from behind the door and managed a bleary, “What time is it?” Behind Sully, the early morning rays of sun peeked over the hillside, filling the misty valley with a rosy glow.
But before he could answer, the flutter of descending footsteps on the stairs filled the air. Celia burst into the kitchen in a flurry of activity with Cam close at her heels. She flicked on the TV and flipped through the channels until she reached a morning cartoon he liked.
Flinging open the cabinet, Celia pulled out a box of cereal and poured a bowl. She yanked open the refrigerator door, grabbed the milk, and sloshed some on top, then plunked the bowl on the table in front of Cam. “Just sit down and eat. Fast,” she instructed Cam who was notorious for dawdling at meals.
Instantly entranced with a show about a boy and his talking dog, Cam slowly made his way into his chair as Celia yelled up the stairs, “Micah, let’s go!”
Then Celia turned, noticing Sully.
“Hi, Mrs. T,” he said, giving a small wave.
“Sully? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged innocently. “Just thought I’d give Micah and Jordan a ride to school.”
“That is so nice of you. I completely slept through my alarm today. Did you eat breakfast yet?”
Sully shook his head.
“Well, have a seat. You know the drill. Help yourself to whatever you can find.”
Then Celia spotted me standing concealed in the corner behind the door. “Jordan! Ohmigod, I thought you were already dressed.”
I stammered, “Um…I…”
She didn’t wait for my response. “Well, go on. You don’t want to be late for school!”
It seemed acceptable to take the morning off to catch up on my rest, but I knew Celia never considered skipping school an option. Rubbing my eyes again, I silently headed for the stairs, my body sluggish and sleep-deprived.
Sully offered me a sympathetic smile before opening the fridge to take out the orange juice. He asked, “What’re you having, Cam?”
“Cap’n Crunch,” Cam said, absentmindedly swirling his spoon around in the bowl.
“Then Cap’n Crunch it is.” Sully poured a bowl and flooded it with milk.
“We’re like twins,” Cam chirped.
“Except that you’re not eating,” Celia reprimanded. “That’s it, no more cartoons,” she said as she reached for the remote.
In desperation, Cam jammed a huge spoonful inside his mouth until his cheeks puffed up like a squirrel hording nuts in autumn, but his efforts were in vain. Celia had already switched the channel to the news to catch the traffic update before she headed into the city.
By the time I lumbered downstairs and threw on some clothes, ran a brush through my tangled black hair, and mustered my way back upstairs, the traffic report had wrapped up and the programming shifted to the weather. I poured a bowl of Corn Flakes and milk, then joined Micah, Sully, and Cam at the table. But when I glanced over at Micah, he didn’t catch my eye. Maybe he feared I’d say something and bust him in front of Celia. Again. Whatever the reason, he chose not to speak to me, so I didn’t bother to acknowledge him, either.
“You know, Sully,” Celia said, sounding a little less harried with everyone dressed and Cam eating. “I was thinking…I haven’t seen Karli in a while. Why don’t you bring her by our house tonight? I’m making burritos and we always have extras.”
Sully’s eyes fell to the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, how about tomorrow night?” Celia suggested.
Sully shook his head. “I doubt it. We broke up.”
I looked up, wondering if the time Sully spent here hanging out with Micah and me had anything to do with it. Then I glanced over at Micah, noticing his face painted in surprise. “Since when?” he asked with sudden interest.
Sully shrugged. “Officially? Last night. But it’s been coming for a while.”
I knew I should feel bad for him. He’d hardly touched his food—an oddity for him—but my attention lay elsewhere. Wrapped up in the TV, I listened to the meteorologist describe a weather phenomenon that gained strength in Southern California. The rains that started a few days ago had unexpectedly intensified with no end in sight. Several counties had already issued flash flood warnings, advising motorists to use extreme caution
when crossing moving water.
My brain ran through some quick calculations. If what they said proved true, that placed the origin of the storm at two weeks to the day after my arrival. Could it be coincidental?
The meteorologist displayed the extended outlook for the Bay Area. Though Sully related the details of his break-up to Micah, I didn’t catch a word. Instead, my eyes remained glued to the greenish-yellow mass of storms on the radar, tracking its projected progress up the coastline.
And right toward San Francisco.
I swallowed hard. This couldn’t be a normal storm front.
“My God, they’re fast,” I muttered. My spoon slipped out of my hand, leaving a trail of milk and Corn Flakes before it clattered off the edge of the table and onto the floor.
“What’s that, Jordan?” Celia asked. A puzzled expression shrouded her face.
I scooted my chair away from the table, leaving my breakfast half-eaten. Panicked thoughts raced through my mind. Get supplies. Take off. Head for the hills, far away from the coast. This stupid pink cast would definitely complicate things but I could deal with it later. I’d cut it off myself, early if necessary.
“Jordan?” Sully echoed. “What’s wrong?”
My dark eyes flashed with fear. “I—I can’t stay.”
Micah’s eyebrows knitted together. “What’s the big deal? None of us can stay. Homeroom starts in twenty minutes.”
I shook my head, my face filled with fright. “It’s not that. It’s…it’s…” I faltered, unable to form a coherent sentence in my head. Instead, I managed a rushed, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
I made it halfway across the kitchen floor when Celia placed a firm hand on my shoulder to stop me. I sighed, knowing I didn’t have time to listen to her reprimand me for leaving dirty dishes at the table or my used spoon on the floor.
Instead, she said, “Jordan, please.” Her eyes flitted in Sully’s direction then back at me with a pleading don’t-hurt-his-feelings-because-he’s-been-through-enough-already sort of look. “He came here to offer you a ride.”
