Kindred (4 page)

He shakes his head, smiling. “I won’t be back until late tomorrow afternoon,” he reminds me. “But you know not to leave me in the dark if anything happens. Anything at all.”

I chortle. “Isaac, what’s going to happen?” I say grinning up at him. “If I hit my leg on the corner of the coffee table again, I’ll be sure to call you right away.”

Somewhere between a blush and grin, Isaac decides to stand there without any sort of comeback—he must know I’ve won this one.

“I think being here is safer than where
you’re
going,” I add more seriously and now my smile evaporates, replaced by unease.

He squeezes my upper-arms gently. “
Now
who looks all serious?” he says, though with a little less humor than I had given him. “It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve done long before we met. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

I force a smile. When it comes to Isaac having anything to do with his father, I’ll always worry about him.

Everybody leaves shortly after Uncle Carl’s homecoming. Isaac leaves last, wanting to be with me for as long as he can before heading into the mountains to babysit Aramei.

I hate it. Every time he has to go there, I can’t picture anything but the night I was there and I saw that man die. And when Isaac’s father, Trajan, crushed Isaac against the rock floor out of rage.

It was terrifying.

Trajan
is terrifying….

3

“IS SHE
SERIOUS
?” Harry says sitting next to me in the auditorium at school. “This has gone too far. I mean no joke. Too. Damn. Far.”

I stifle a laugh.

Harry’s head jerks over to look at me. “Adria! It’s not funny. I’m traumatized. I swear I’ll never be able to get it up—”

“
Hiii
, Tori!” I say standing up fast from the seat, cutting off the derogatory comment he was going to finish. My face is stretched as far as it can stretch into the fakest smile I can fake. I can’t stand Tori. She can’t stand us. But nothing’s worse than having to sit next to her with her and Harry at odds. It never used to be this way. Everybody likes Harry. But these days, Tori has it out for all of us, and a few weeks ago, Harry just happened to be in her line of fire and he hasn’t been able to let go of it since. I think every time she sees Sebastian and Zia together it just ticks her off that much more.

I don’t think Tori still has much of a thing for Sebastian—I mean it’s been months—but she’ll probably hold the grudge forever. It’s a pride thing.

Tori sneers at me. “Oh spare me, Adria. That welcome is as fake as that perfume you wear.”

Here we go again. She will never learn.

Harry props his feet on the chair in front of him, blocking her and the two girls with her access to the three empty seats down our row. They thought they would find empty seats elsewhere in the auditorium, but after wandering around, up and down several rows, they couldn’t find three side-by-side that were empty. And these girls are so hooked on each other that it’s kind of disturbing.

They push their way past me, and Tori, in the lead, tries shoving Harry’s legs out of the way.

“
Move
, Harry,” she says through her teeth.

“You have to ask nicely,” Harry says casually, barely looking at her as if she isn’t even there.

Tori forces her way through, knocking his feet from the seat and onto the floor.

Harry laughs under his breath, but when Tori starts to sit in the empty seat directly next to him, he draws the line. “Ummm, that’s not gonna’ happen,” he says putting his hand in the seat and letting the smirk disappear from his face. “I can’t sit through this thing with you next to me flashing your man cave the whole time.” I see him visibly shudder. I, on the other hand, slide my back heavily down against my seat, trying my hardest not to burst out laughing. I’m
trying
to be mature about this, but it’s just so hard.

Tori always brings this on herself. Harry may be the nicest guy I’ve ever known, but get on his bad side and he is a professional when it comes to verbal revenge. He’s like Hannibal Lecter, minus the creepy prison cell and body count.

Harry points to one of Tori’s friends. “You sit here or
none
of you sit here.”

Tori looks down at Harry with revulsion. “That’s actually a good idea.” She even helps her friend into the seat next to Harry, though the friend seems to be irritated at how she wasn’t given a choice in the matter. Tori continues to glare down at Harry. “I don’t
want
to sit by you,” is all she can think to say.

I really thought being this close to graduation that this kind of stuff would weed itself out of everyday school life. I was so wrong about that one.

Tori and the other girl take the next two seats, and just like Harry was referring to, Tori doesn’t cross her legs even though the skirt she’s wearing is so short I’m surprised she hasn’t been sent home for it. It also doesn’t help poor Harry’s sex life that in addition to her skirt, the top three buttons are open on her shirt and all she will need to do is bend over a couple inches too far and everything will fall right out.

Harry leans toward my ear and whispers, “I wonder if she’s that crude on purpose or if she’s just always been that way and doesn’t know the difference?”

I just shake my head, still trying to hold back the full intensity of my smile.

The lights in the auditorium dim as the announcer comes out on stage.

“We should’ve sat this one out like Sebastian and Zia,” he says.

“I don’t mind it so much,” I say about the play. “Though I guess I would rather be in Boston at a concert than sitting here.”

School will be out next week and I’m kind of going to miss it. Don’t get me wrong, I love living in the secret supernatural world that found me last September, but I actually like school because it kind of helps me stay connected to the human world I left behind.

I didn’t really have to force Harry to come to this play with me. Daisy was the one who forced him. Ah, the benefits of being Daisy’s brother’s girlfriend. Sometimes it’s not enough just being Harry’s best friend when I want to make Harry do something he’d rather not.

After the play is over, I catch a ride with Harry. Isaac didn’t come to school today. He’s still watching over Aramei in the mountains while his father, Trajan, attends some kind of gathering with Elders from Serbia and Bulgaria. It always makes me nervous when Isaac leaves me alone to deal with that kind of stuff. Not because I’m afraid of not having him around, but because I’m afraid of what his father is capable of doing to him. I know it shouldn’t worry me much seeing as how Isaac’s been doing this all his life, under the thumb of a dangerous father who scares the crap out of me. But it does and it always will make me nervous.

Harry and I head straight to the skate park after the play. I think I’ve spent more time watching skaters in the past many months than I have ever spent doing normal things that girls usually do. But Harry insists I hang out with him there. I think it’s more for Daisy’s benefit than his own. He confided in me one night about Daisy being out there while he’s doing his skater thing. He said he didn’t want to bore her to death, but really I think it has a lot more to do with Layne and Evan who light up whenever Daisy is around.

Harry really has nothing to worry about when it comes to Daisy, but he’s a guy and guys get jealous.

When we arrive, it’s easy to spot Daisy in the crowd. She has the prettiest golden blond hair and whenever she gets here before we do, she’s usually waiting near the parking lot for us.

Psycho Cecilia loves Daisy to death and sometimes latches onto Daisy’s company whenever she shows up, so I brace myself just in case. But thankfully today doesn’t appear to be a Cecilia day—she’s almost more unbearable than Tori. But only almost. Thankfully we don’t have to suffer through her at school; she goes to some private school not far from here.

Harry lifts Daisy off her feet and kisses her. They do their normal lovey-dovey stuff before Harry kisses her goodbye and heads out with the rest of the skaters.

“I see he dragged you out here again,” Daisy says, pulling me into a hug.

“Nah, I don’t mind at all really,” I say and we start to head to our usual spot near the concrete skate bowl. “What else am I going to do to pass the time?”

Daisy tosses her arm around my shoulder and we walk a little farther, finally taking a seat on the grassy hill about fifteen feet from the concrete.

“How’s your uncle holding out at home?”

I sigh, sitting down next to her and drawing my knees toward me. “It’s weird having him rolling around the house in a wheelchair. Beverlee converted the downstairs bedroom that used to be her crafts area, into their new room.”

“Oh yeah,” Daisy says with a small grimace, “I guess he can’t very well make it upstairs right now.”

I shake my head solemnly.

There’s a ton of people out here tonight and not just regulars; seems most of the people who used to hang out at The Cove on the river have migrated over here, too. Last month, The Cove got busted. Cops were everywhere and from what I hear, about six people were arrested that night.

It sucks because the people that hang out at The Cove are a different breed than we are around here. And it shows more blatantly than Tori’s girly parts underneath her skimpy, flashy wardrobe choices. The Cove people like to walk around with a beer bottle super-glued to one hand and the girls are a lot more open about their sexual preferences, and more nauseatingly, their availability.

“
Oh no
,” Daisy says, covertly averting her eyes to the left and I immediately look over. “No…don’t
look
!” she whispers harshly. “It might draw her over here and honestly I think that girl gives me mini anxiety attacks.”

Cecilia, still as annoying as ever, is walking through a small group of Cove people all standing around with their girlfriends latched on their sides.

“She’s harmless, Daisy,” I say, though agreeing with her about not wanting to draw attention to ourselves.

Cecilia’s smile lights up when she spots us; two deep dimples carving into her cheeks as she walks toward us. She has a pixie haircut a lot like Zia’s, except her hair is plain-Jane brown and she hasn’t got the same perfect handle on her style as Zia does.

No one’s hair is as perfect as Zia’s.

“Here-she-comes,” I say harmoniously under my breath.

The girl isn’t so bad, she just has an extreme personality that for some, is hard to overlook. When I first met her last September, she probably jotted me down on her List of Girls to Hate Just Because, until she saw me punch William Vargas in the mouth and I was suddenly her best friend.

I feel kind of sorry for her, I’ll be honest. She’s an attention leech. She’s a lot like a girl I knew back in Georgia who didn’t have any friends because she was different from the norm.

Cecilia is definitely different from
a lot
of norms.

“Hey!” she says, bright-eyed. “I was looking all over for you two!”

“Hi Cecilia,” Daisy and I say in unison.

Cecilia’s short frame drops right between me and Daisy on the grass and she goes right into her usual random spiel, which never fails to confuse me in the first two sentences.

“I told her,” she says as if I already know who she’s talking about, “but she did it anyway—Marc is like a bad acid trip—.” She looks over at me determinedly. “Not that I know what that’s like, or anything. I’m just not good with analogs.”

Mine and Daisy’s eyes lock without moving our heads.

“You mean analogies?” I correct her, though as nicely as I can.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Cecilia says and goes right back to her story. “Anyway, she started going out with him despite my warnings. It’s gross seeing her all over him like that. I never did that when I went out with him. She’s just making herself look slutty.”

Cecilia still isn’t over her ex-boyfriend and I guess by bashing whoever is going out with him now, it’s helping her to cope with the breakup.

I can’t stand this relationship gossip stuff. This person hates that person. That girl is sluttier than the other girl. That guy is the hottest thing in Hallowell. That same guy (a month later) is the biggest jerk in Hallowell.

All of it repels me.

“Yeah…ummm, so what have you been up to, Cecilia?” I say, quickly changing the subject to something more generic before I feel compelled to hang myself. I throw Daisy a desperate look, hoping she’ll not leave me alone in this conversation. Daisy smiles, but still doesn’t offer herself up to being any part of my misery. I’ll have to have a talk with her about that later.

Cecilia stretches her legs out in front of her and leans back, holding her body up by her hands pressed into the grass. “Not much,” she says. “Can’t wait for school to be over—I’m going to Portland to spend the summer with my dad when school’s out.”

Portland. Hmmm. Coincidence? Or is fate being cruel? I ponder what I’m about to say for an extra lengthy moment. Daisy’s big doe-eyes are wider now. She must be thinking the same thing I am. Should I tell Cecilia that we’ll be there, too?