The Holders

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The Holders Page 7

by Julianna Scott


  “OK, sure.” I stood and walked out into the hall, knowing a get out when I heard one. I turned back to say goodbye, only to see the door was already being shut behind me.

  Just my sister? Just my sister? Oh yeah, I was just the sister who flew to the other side of the world, just to make sure he wasn’t locked away in some nut house!

  …little punk.

  I knew I shouldn’t be irritated, but I couldn’t help it. OK, maybe it wasn’t irritation per se, but that seemed like the best word for it. Calling it “hurt” seemed way too sentimental and clingy. And honestly, I had no business feeling that way, in any event. Wasn’t this what we wanted; for Ryland to finally have a normal life with friends? Exactly. So, it was stupid for me to be bummed that he might suddenly not need me so much anymore. Stupid – and counterproductive I might add – as the main idea of all this was for me to leave him here and go home. He was supposed to stop needing me. He was supposed to be learning to do things on his own. Ergo, the lump in my throat was entirely uncalled for.

  Entirely.

  Not wanting to go sit alone in my room, I decided to make use of my new map and take an impromptu tour of the campus. I had hoped to spend the morning exploring with Ryland, but it was still nice to have a chance to walk the grounds and get to know the place that he might soon call home.

  It really was a gorgeous school, I had to admit. The grand architecture and ancient style of the buildings were nothing short of magnificent, and it made the whole place feel more like a university than a school. It was also busier that morning than it had been the previous evening, all the activity filling the campus with a lively buzz. There were students of all ages coming and going, some carrying large bags of new textbooks all ready for the start of classes, while others played games of soccer on the central quad or sat in groups on the steps of the buildings talking casually, all of them trying to make the most of their last day of freedom.

  So many students – were any of them Holders? Alex had said there were others with abilities attending St Brigid’s, but I had no idea how many. Could the boy who’d just scored a goal for his team down on the quad also know how to read minds or instantly heal the sick? Could the girl flipping through her new notebook and chatting with her friends also be able to flip through time or make images appear and disappear on a whim? There were dozens of kids out that morning and any one of them could have been harboring an ability that the rest of the world knew nothing about, and the idea was as amazing as it was intimidating.

  I continued my explorations around the property, becoming increasingly impressed with what I found. The dorms were segregated by gender and very well-maintained for as old as they clearly were, the grounds were immaculate with not a bit of trash or stray weed to be found, and the walkways, while winding, were well-marked and easy to navigate.

  One of my favorite discoveries was the massive library, which had to be more than three times larger than any I’d ever seen. I spent quite a while perusing the shelves of books, happy to find that even though I was in a completely different part of the world, the whole building had the same wonderfully comforting smell of the libraries I’d grown up with back in the States. It was an aroma as nondescript as it was specific, and as it filled my nose, I couldn’t help but smile. Apparently books smell like books no matter where you are.

  The classrooms and lecture halls were equally impressive, most with wooden desks that weren’t anywhere near new, but had been very well-cared for – not covered in crude carvings and ink stains like the wooden desks I had known – and all the rooms had the refreshingly classic black chalkboards – not the ugly green ones my school had been filled with.

  It was past one by the time I got back to Lorcan Hall, and my mood was decidedly better. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself, and briefly considered going up to my room and calling my mom, but with the time difference I knew she’d already be on her way to work, so that would have to wait a while. With nothing else to do, I figured I might as well poke around Lorcan for a bit, and maybe find something to eat while I was at it. Who knew, I thought to myself, maybe I’d run into Alex along the way…

  No! I really had to stop that. I would be going home soon – sooner than I thought, given the way Ryland was taking to things – and Alex would be staying here. As my Mom would say, no use barking at a squirrel you can’t catch.

  I wandered the halls aimlessly for a while, not finding much. It was obvious that Lorcan wasn’t used for regular classes as the few classrooms I found were either almost entirely empty or being used for storage. There was a lounge area in the front with a small library in it, an alcove in the east hall with a piano, a few restrooms here and there, and so on, but nothing all that exciting. Though happily I did come across a vending machine, providing me with a much needed lunch.

  It wasn’t until I passed by a large pair of carved doors, and heard voices coming from the other side, that my interest was piqued.

  “I say we have him try it right away. How else are we to know if any of this is real? It could simply be a waste of time,” a male voice said.

  “No matter what happens, it wasn’t a waste of time, you know that. He’s better off here than he was in the States no matter what happens.”

  I recognized the second voice as Alex, but who was he with?

  “He’s just a boy.” A female voice with a Russian accent interjected. “He isn’t ready to take on such a large burden.”

  Just a boy…? Better off here than in the States…?

  Ryland! They were talking about Ryland! I crept up to the door and carefully pressed my ear against the polished wood.

  “It needs to be done slowly and carefully,” the female voice continued. “If everything isn’t handled perfectly, someone could find out that we’ve brought him here.”

  “Exactly! Which is why we need to make sure–”

  “Reid,” Alex cut him off, “it’s almost two, don’t you have a meeting?”

  “Damn,” the same male voice said under his breath, “all right, well, see to it that he decides soon. We no longer have the luxury of time.”

  Suddenly there was the sound of motion – of feet walking towards the door. My throat began to spasm as I tried to decide what to do, fast realizing that I had no options. If I ran they would hear me, if I did nothing they would catch me, and in either event they would know I’d been eavesdropping.

  I froze. The footsteps had reached the door. I was out of time.

  I held my breath as the door opened, and a moment later I was standing face to face with… Taron. I waited for the scolding, the yelling, the haughty derision… but none came. He just stood there looking at me. Thinking offense might be the best defense, I opened my mouth, planning to offer some excuse or maybe even a denial. However, before I could get a word out, he yawned – yes, yawned – right in my face, and walked off down the hall without a word to me at all. He was soon followed by Mr Anderson, a short older woman in a knit shawl and frizzy hair, and a middle-aged bald man with a long nose and wire-rimmed glasses, none of whom so much as glanced in my direction. I was standing right there, in the middle of an otherwise empty hall, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation, and no one cared?

  The last person out of the room was Alex, who hung back, leaning casually against the doorframe, watching the backs of the others as they walked up the hall, also not so much as glancing in my direction.

  “You should try holding up a glass next time,” he said, after the last of the figures had turned the corner.

  “What?”

  “You’ll hear better,” he said, turning to face me.

  “What was that? Why…?” I stopped, shaking my head, trying to piece together what had just happened.

  “Why didn’t they say anything to you? Because they couldn’t see you.”

  “Wait, you did that? But… how? You can’t make people disappear… can you?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head and grinning, “but I can cast an image of the ha
llway without you in it.”

  “How did you know I was out here?”

  “I felt – er, heard you,” he corrected quickly, looking away. “I was standing right by the door.”

  “So your skills not only allow you to impress unsuspecting women by taking them to far off lands from the comfort of their bedrooms, but can also help you aid-and-abet snoops?” I asked, hoping a joke would cover the fact that I was mortified to have been caught spying on them. “You should work with Peeping Toms; they’d probably pay good money.”

  I looked up to find his eyes on me. “I impress you?”

  Oh God, had I said that? My neck grew hot as his eyes held mine, waiting for an answer. “Yes, of course,” I said, figuring there was no harm in being honest. “Anyway,” I added quickly, pretending I didn’t notice his ears turn red at my compliment, “thank you.”

  “No problem.” He closed the door and put his hands in his jeans pockets. “So I imagine, considering you overheard, that you have some questions.”

  “I had some anyway, but yeah.”

  He nodded. “I think you’re ready for the rest of the story. Any chance you could give me about twenty minutes before we get into it though? I promised Mr Anderson I’d help bring over a few things for his next class.”

  “Twenty minutes?”

  “Twenty minutes.” We began to walk side by side up the hall. When we reached the main corridor, he pointed, “If you take this all the way to the end and turn right, there is a small rotunda. I’ll meet you there.” With that, he smiled and left.

  It took me a grand total of forty-two seconds to make it to the rotunda, which was small and contained nothing besides yet another pair of large oak doors. As there was nowhere to sit and wait, I figured I would waste the rest of my twenty minutes continuing the tour I’d started before I’d gotten sidetracked. This proved to be a lousy idea however, as it took me a grand total of twenty four seconds to get lost. After I passed the same hallway with the same leather couch for a third time, I collapsed down on it, totally annoyed with myself. Maybe Alex would come looking for me when I didn’t show up to meet him. Or maybe I could get upstairs and find my room, then come down using the main stairway and–

  “You seem to be lost.”

  As soon as the voice hit my ears, the back of my neck started to prickle and every hair I had stood on end. I knew that voice. I hadn’t realized it until that very moment, but I’d have known that voice anywhere. Time itself seemed to hang in the air as I slowly turned my head to face the speaker. A man I’d not seen in over ten years.

  Jocelyn Ingle. My father.

  It was him. It was really him. The same hair, the same eyes, even his stance was just as I remembered it. He began walking towards me slowly, the look on his face somewhere between curiosity and fear, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

  I knew the feeling.

  When he was only a few steps from the couch, I stood, honestly having no idea what would come next.

  “Can I help you get somewhere?” he asked.

  “I was…” I cleared my throat, suddenly finding it hard to speak. “Th-the main staircase,” I stammered, not sure what to call the little rotunda and knowing I could find it on my own from the stairs. “I was supposed to meet Alex… I was there, but then I kept walking… and now I’m here…” I trailed off, wondering what the hell had come over me. I was stuttering like an idiot! Where was all my rage? My anger? Not only wasn’t I doing what I’d always promised myself to do when I met Jocelyn again, but now I couldn’t even bring myself to speak in full sentences!

  “Oh, so you’ve met Alex?”

  “Yes, he brought me… us. He brought us here.”

  “Was there a tour for you today?” he asked, smiling warmly and motioning for me to walk with him.

  “No, not that I know of. I haven’t had one, probably why I got lost.” I was rambling again, but at least this time I was making sense.

  “Do you like it here?” he asked me after a few silent moments.

  “Yes,” I said glancing over at him, “it’s really nice.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  “Though this is the second time today I’ve been lost.” For God’s sake, why did I keep saying that? He knew I was lost!

  “Yes, that happens,” he chuckled. “It takes some getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

  Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would happen. We were talking. Talking just like regular people. Sure, there was weirdness that obviously neither one of us wanted to address, but after ten years that was understandable. What was shocking to me was how good it felt to talk to him again. To see him again. Why on earth had I wanted to hide?

  “Here we are,” he said as we reached the main staircase.

  “Oh, wow. That wasn’t hard at all.”

  “I’ve got to go, I’m expected,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder.

  “Oh, yeah sure. No problem.”

  “Well,” he held out his hand, “it was nice meeting you Miss…” He’d left the sentence unfinished, the way someone would do when they were waiting for the other person to fill in their name.

  Nice meeting you.

  “Right,” I breathed, staring blankly at his hand. “Of course that’s what we’re doing here. What was I thinking?”

  He pulled his eyebrows together, confused. “I’m sorry?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure you’re not,” I said, a bitter edge in my voice. Ignoring his still outstretched hand, I turned and headed towards the stairs.

  “It was nice to meet you,” he said again, his tone making it clear that he was completely baffled by what had just happened.

  I couldn’t take it. With my hands balled into fists at my sides, I turned to look at his retreating figure and said, with as much sarcasm and venom as I possessed, “Nice to meet you too… Dad.”

  I saw him freeze dead in his tracks. Saw him turn back and look at me, understanding finally in his face. I met his eyes for a split second before turning and walking past the stairs and out the front door, without looking back.

  8

  I ran out of Lorcan and down the steps, barely seeing where I was going. Rounding the corner, I huffed off into the wooded park area alongside the building, muttering and cursing under my breath.

  How could I have been so stupid?! Why the hell did I let myself think… Ugh!

  Suppressing the urge to jump up and down screaming, I pushed on faster through the trees, not caring that I had no idea where I was going. However, with the dry fall branches ripping at my arms and face, and the hard, rocky ground grinding at my feet, it didn’t take long for my fuming stampede to dwindle to a frustrated stagger. Pushing my way through a particularly thick line of brush, I came out to find a sloping hill leading down to a small lake. I jogged down the hill to the water’s edge, loving the rush of the effortless speed provided by nothing more than gravity. Stopping at the bottom, I bent over and rested my hands on my knees to catch my breath. After a few minutes I’d succeeded in getting my lungs to stop burning, but I’d had no luck in bringing my blood pressure down. I ran my hands through my hair – dislodging some twigs and leaves in the process – and began pacing up and down the bank of the lake, biting my tongue in a last ditch effort not to cry.

  I hadn’t cried over my father in almost a decade, and I damned well wasn’t about to start again now.

  “Becca?”

  I whirled around with a gasp to find Alex standing a few feet away.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly, as I let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I saw you come out…” He hesitated a moment looking pensive.

  You…” I breathed, still panting a bit. “You followed me?” I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed.

  “No, it was just that you looked upset, and I…” He stammered, his ears turning red.

  “Wait, how did you get through…?” I looked him up and down then turned to look back up the hill at the line of brush I’d fou
ght through, wondering how he still looked so put together while I looked like a survivalist.

  “There’s a path,” he said, pointing up behind him.

  “Of course there is,” I mumbled. That would figure.

  “Are you all right?” he asked tentatively, as though he was afraid I might spring up and bite him.

  Well let’s see, my brother wants nothing to do with me, and my father wouldn’t know me from a stranger in the street. “Yes,” I lied, “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I…” I looked up into his eyes and saw such honest concern, that it somehow made my mouth begin to work independently from my brain. “I just never thought…” I began pacing again as I rambled, digging my hands angrily through my mess of hair. “I’m over it! I’ve been over it! I’ve known for years how it was! And yet I still let myself get caught up… I was an idiot! If I had stuck to my guns like I always said I would, none of this would have happened! Mo ghile beag, you know that’s what he used to call me? My Little Darling! And now he doesn’t even…” I died off then tried again: “I mean I don’t care, I just didn’t expect…” I gave up with a sigh, blinking and biting my tongue again.

  “What didn’t you expect?” he asked softly.

  I stopped pacing and stood with my arms crossed in front of me facing the lake. “For him not to recognize me.” I said, resenting the crack in my voice.

  “Jocelyn?” he asked, walking up behind me. “You saw him?”

  I nodded. “I saw him, and he saw some random girl who had lost her tour group.”

  I saw him wince out of the corner of my eye. “I’m sorry,” he said gently.

  I waited for the defense. The, “well, you knew he wasn’t expecting to see you”, or “it has been ten years”, or even, “oh, I’m sure he did”, but nothing came. I turned to try and read him, but saw only sad concern in his eyes.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, looking down again. I shouldn’t have laid all my father issues on someone who was inexplicably one of the guy’s biggest fans.

  “No, please,” he said shaking his head. After a few silent moments he asked, “Do you want to go back up? I can tell you about Ryla–”

 

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