Chapter 2
Caretakers
(Mason)
The final bell rings as Olivia and I stare at Robin. We are both too stunned to react, but Robin jumps at the sound. “Oh my goodness! I am never going to make it to class today. Can we meet up at lunch? I don’t know anyone else, and I have like a zillion questions to ask you! Where do you two usually sit? Oh never mind, I better run. I’ll just look for you, okay? See you at lunch!”
She whirls away, nearly dropping her books again, and starts jogging toward the office. I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around Robin. The rambling monologue she just threw at us certainly didn’t help. Olivia is the first to break the silence.
“Mason, what did she just call you?” Olivia asks.
I shake my head. I have a million questions, but I’m also terrified. I try to play it off as nothing, hoping Olivia won’t notice my fear. “I think she said Air-ling. Maybe? Either that or she called me an earring.”
Olivia smacks my arm. “She did not say earring.”
The fact that the bell rang, and we are both now tardy, finally sinks in. We start toward our class, but that hardly means our minds are on school. Fear tries to hold my curiosity hostage, but it isn’t strong enough. “What the heck was she talking about? And why could she see me?”
“I have no idea. She was beyond weird,” Olivia says. She bites the corner of her lip. “I mean, she was nice, but strange.”
“She said I was hot.” I grin as Olivia rolls her eyes. “What? It’s nice to know! No one has ever told me that before.”
“That’s because no one but me has ever seen you before,” Olivia says as we approach the door to the classroom.
I smirk at her. “So are you saying I’m not hot?”
Her answering glare isn’t very encouraging. “Really?” she snaps. “We just met the only other person who has ever been able to see you, and she seems to know something about what you are, and all you can think about is whether or not you’re hot?”
“So? I’m curious. You know you’re beautiful. Everyone thinks so. Guys stare at you all the time. I don’t have the benefit of external validation of my appearance. I’ve got you, that’s it. You’ve never said a word about my looks. So, yes, I’m curious. Am I attractive?”
Olivia shrugs, annoyed that I am not taking this as seriously as she is. “I don’t know. I guess? I’ve never really thought about it, okay?”
Her hand reaches out for the door, but before she pushes it open, she turns around to glare at me. “When you decide to take this Robin chick seriously, let me know. Her seeing you may not be a good thing. Think about that,” she snaps.
She yanks the door open and stalks to her desk. I follow at a more leisurely pace. In truth, Robin’s words did freak me out. I think it’s awesome that she can see me. Her having a name for me… there’s a good chance Olivia is right. It could change things. One thing I know from experience is that change is not good.
Lately, living under a separate set of rules because of who I am has been getting to me, but I still wouldn’t trade my life for anything. The idea of not being with Olivia, or Evie and their parents, scares me more than I care to admit. They are my whole world.
Slipping into an empty seat at the back of the room, my mind continues to whirl. For a long time, I am stuck thinking about the word Aerling and what that might mean. I try to contemplate the impact Robin might have on my life, but after a while, I decide to give up because I know too little to figure anything out and I’m too scared to try. I resign myself to three more hours of confusion before I can ask Robin a few questions. In an effort to distract myself, my thoughts turn back to Olivia and the answers she gave today.
My eyes slip over to her. Quietly staring at the board, pretending to be interested in a lecture on the Napoleonic Wars, Olivia takes no notice of me. As I watch her, my jumbled thoughts slow. I wasn’t kidding when I told her she was beautiful. Her strawberry blonde hair makes me think of summer days playing outside. Her lips are only a shade darker than her hair, and her dark green eyes border on evergreen.
What makes her even more attractive is that she doesn’t seem to care. She’s not one of those girls who doesn’t understand how pretty she is or pretends not to know in order to tease. Olivia knows she’s attractive, but she doesn’t see why that matters. Guys hit on her and she shrugs them off without another thought. I wish I could shrug it off when guys hit on her that easily. Nothing irritates me more.
Having said that, I have perfected the art of pretending not to notice other guys’ interest in her. Although, that ability is tested when Hayden Benton tugs on a strand of Olivia’s hair in order to get her attention. The annoyed expression Olivia has been holding all class slips away as she turns to face a guy most girls would go all gooey-eyed over in a second. Something to do with his dark hair and equally dark eyes, not to mention the fact that he spends more time working out than studying. I don’t get it.
Curiosity lifts Olivia’s eyebrows as she comes face to face with Hayden’s all-too-charming smile. Somehow he makes asking to borrow a pencil a seductive encounter. Not that Olivia seems to notice. She shrugs and hands him a spare pencil before turning her attention back to being irritated at me. Hayden keeps staring at the back of her head.
The whole encounter takes me back to the parking lot, to Olivia’s answer to Robin’s question. I guess I can understand being caught off guard when Robin abruptly asked about our relationship. She’s never had to explain that to anyone before. I slump into a sulk as I remember her answer. Brother? Kind of? Best friend?
Are we best friends? Of course.
But her brother?
I am not her brother.
The bell rings and the class files out. Olivia ignores me, and I know she will continue to ignore me until I prove I’m ready to be serious. On principle, I’m not terribly fond of serious. Today is different. I’m not just being flippant. I’m afraid. I have no desire to start up another conversation about Robin right now. We step into the hall in silence. I’m prepared to spend the next three class periods the same way. Too bad other people aren’t on the same page.
“Hey, Olivia!” Hayden calls out. “Wait up!”
Startled, Olivia turns around. “Yeah?”
Hayden trots up to her with another obnoxious smile. He slips a pencil out of his pocket and offers it up. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”
Olivia takes the pencil back with a shrug. “Sure, no problem.”
For a moment, I worry that Hayden is about to attempt a full out conversation. The thought of standing here listening to his inane drivel has zero appeal. There is something about his dark hair and athletic build that I find offensive. Or maybe it’s his casual ability to capture just about anyone’s attention. Although, it might be the way his hand brushes Olivia’s arm like it’s nothing as he asks her a question about the lecture we just sat through.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s it.
Not interested in hanging around for Hayden’s charm, I head for our next class. I’m surprised when I see Robin plow around a corner at breakneck speed. She catches sight of me just before knocking into a couple too busy making out as they walk to notice the collision. Their obliviousness doesn’t keep Robin from getting her feet tangled and pitching forward.
Two quick steps brings me close enough to catch her elbow and save her from nose diving. Robin beams up at me… once she makes it back up to standing. “You okay?” I ask.
Laughing off the incident, Robin says, “I’m not normally this klutzy.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Really! It’s just first day jitters. Not to mention the fact that this school is a maze! I can’t find anything.”
Feeling suddenly like taking a break, I lean against a row of lockers. “What exactly are you trying to find this time?”
“Room 217? I’m supposed to be taking AP English with Mrs. Hamilton.”
“AP?�
�� I ask.
Robin rolls her eyes. “Why do people always sound surprised when they find out I’m smart?”
It’s hard not to laugh. “It might be the tripping and dropping things and bumping into people.” I shrug jokingly. “Just a guess.”
Her huff of irritation is downplayed by her smile. “Whatever,” she says. Then she holds out a stack of books. “Can you hold this? I think my phone is buzzing at me.”
“Uh, not to be unchivalrous, but I think the other students might find floating books to be a bit strange,” I say, holding my hands up in apology. “Your class is around the corner to the right, though.”
The blush that spreads though Robin’s cheeks is kind of cute. “Sorry! I keep forgetting you’re an Aerling, not a human. I’m such a mess today.”
Robin does some shifting, and snatches her phone out of a side pocket on her backpack. She mumbles something about overprotective parents as she reads the text she just got. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice that I have checked out of the conversation. What did she mean when she said I wasn’t human? She’s not serious, is she?
I mean, it’s always been pretty obvious that I’m different, but I just figured it was some kind of genetic thing, or radiation, maybe even a super power. Not human? I never actually considered the possibility. The idea is somewhat disturbing, but at the same time, kind of cool. What if I’m like Superman?
“Anyway,” Robin says, bursting into my thoughts, “thanks for helping me find my class. Where are you off to?”
It only takes me a moment to decide, my curiosity getting the better of my fear again. “Actually, I thought I might check out what an AP class is like. Mind if I join you?”
Robin beams at me again. “Not at all!”
We file through the door and Robin finds a seat next to the wall of windows. It’s perfect because I can park myself on the sill and still be within “chatting” distance. Of course, Robin probably isn’t familiar with my version of note passing, so I take a moment to explain before the teacher gets class started.
“If you pretend you’re taking notes, I can read whatever you write from here.”
Robin’s eyes dart toward me for a brief second before settling forward as if I weren’t there. She neatly places two sheets of loose leaf paper on the desk. I wonder why she has two. On one she writes, Cool, I have tons of questions for you! On the other she writes the date and AP English. I stifle a laugh when I realize she’s actually taking real notes along with the fake ones. Robin is an interesting girl.
Mrs. Hamilton launches right into her lecture, not even bothering to take notice that she has a new student in her room. Robin doesn’t seem put out. Instead, she turns her attention back to her papers. For me, she writes, Do you remember how you came here?
I shake my head. There wasn’t any coming here. I’ve always been here. Robin sighs, clearly frustrated.
Why is that the one thing Aerlings can never remember? They remember everything else.
Her comment piques my interest. I do have a very good memory, eidetic even, but I can’t remember everything. There are big sections of my early childhood that are nothing more than fragments, fragments that I don’t really like to think about. Even now, I shy away from the bits of memory that try to surface. The flash of pain, the terror of a hand clamping down around my arm.
A nudge from Robin send images like that back into the recesses of my mind. I glance down at her notebook, eager for a new question. What she writes surprises me.
Tell me about your name.
If she were asking Olivia that same question, she would get a pretty basic answer, something like how Olivia comes from olive tree which is a symbol of peace in Latin, or that she was named after her maternal grandmother. I was surprised when I realized naming a child didn’t hold the same significance in most families as it did in mine. In my first family, that is.
“When I was named, everyone in the family was gathered around me. Everyone placed one hand on me, and I remember feeling strange in this new place, but it was okay because I knew how much everyone loved me. I remember seeing my mom smiling at me. My dad was crying. It was the only time I ever saw him cry, except …”
My hands ball into fists as I try to ward off the image of his face contorted in pain. Robin has been staring at the board, listening both to me and the teacher, but after a few minutes she glances over at me in concern. Afraid she’ll start asking questions, I force myself to continue.
“My mom said each of my names would mean something. Each one was special, and would help me remember who I am,” I say slowly, still trying to shake off the pain talking about this sparks. “My first name, Mason, meant I would be strong, physically and mentally, but more importantly, I would be the kind of person people could rely on. Someone who would stand up for what I knew was right.”
Wow, Robin writes, that’s a lot to live up to.
I laugh. “And that’s only my first name!”
Robin smiles, barely stopping herself from giggling. Tell me about the other two.
Shaking my head, I say, “Maybe later. My turn.”
I watch as Robin sits up straighter with her pencil poised to answer. She’s an interesting girl.
“How do you know so much about Aerlings?”
Robin looks over at me with an expression that clearly says I’m completely nuts. She starts scratching out a hurried answer. I had one of my own, of course! My family has been Caretakers for generations. Hasn’t Olivia’s family?
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