Firelight

10

The day stretches on, endless. It feels like seventh period will never arrive. The hands on the round-faced wall clocks crawl, skipping over each minute in nervous twitches. By the time I reach study hall, the pulse at my neck jumps in time with that bouncing minute hand.

I hover in the doorway for a moment, scanning the near-empty classroom. Now, finally. I will see him again.

Heart pounding, I sit at the same table as yesterday and hope he arrives before Catherine does, so I don’t have to explain to her that I want to sit with him. And I do, I realize — I accept. I want to sit with him, talk to him, see him, go out with him…everything. As long as I’m here, anyway. And not just for the sake of my draki. I would have liked Will Rutledge no matter what I was.

With a quick smile at me, Nathan veers to another table. At least I don’t have to worry about him trying to sit with me again. The warning bell peals overhead. My breath comes faster. I watch the door. Any second now.

Catherine rushes in, long bangs flying. I try to hide my disappointment as she, not Will, drops next to me. The final bell rings. Still, I wait, look for Will.

Mr. Henke’s voice drones at the front of the room, reciting the same speech as yesterday. Still, I look at the door.

“He’s not here.”

I start at Catherine’s voice. “Who?”

“Will. I saw him and his cousins leave during fifth period.”

I shrug like I don’t care. Like I hadn’t decided to go out with him. Like he hadn’t asked. Like every fiber of my being isn’t weeping in need for him.

“It’s okay. After the vibes you two were giving off yesterday and today in PE, I figure you were looking for him.”

I don’t respond. My hands are shaking. I tuck them under the table. I had counted on seeing him. On feeling my draki again. On him bringing me to life, making me remember…me. I needed that, and now that I can’t have it my chest feels crushed. The weight of my disappointment presses down on me.

Catherine digs in her backpack. Desperation feeds my heart enough to ask, “So. Where is he?” As if I expect her to know.

“Here.” She slides a note across the table to me. “He gave me this to give to you.”

I stare at the folded square piece of paper for a long moment, my heart hammering. Finally, I take it. The paper is cool and crisp beneath my trembling fingers as I unfold it, taking my time to smooth out the creases and study his handwriting.

Jacinda,

Sorry, but I had to leave town for a family thing. Try not to knock any other teachers unconscious while I’m gone.

See you soon (but not soon enough),

Will

A sigh rattles loose from my lips. I shake my spinning head. This is crazy. Me pining for a hunter. A hunter pining for me. I should know better, even if he can’t. Especially if he can’t.

“He and his cousins miss a lot of school,” Catherine continues.

I can believe that. They would have been north of here a little over a week ago. Hunting me in the Cascades. I doubt they limited their activities to weekend hunts. They would have had to miss school.

“Really.” My fingers tap my lips now. They feel chapped. Dry like the rest of me.

“Uh-huh.” Catherine takes out her chemistry book, opens to the periodic table, and begins filling out a worksheet. “And get this…you know why they miss so much?”

I shake my head even though I do know. Better than her. My heart clenches like a fist in my chest, squeezing…squeezing…

“Their family is big into fly-fishing. Nice, huh? Ditching school to fish.” She drums the end of her pencil on the table as she studies the chart. The sound echoes the stutter of my heart. I slide off my stool, clutching the edge of the table.

Fly-fishing. It was almost amusing. If it didn’t make my chest hurt so much.

Catherine continues, “They take these trips about every…Jacinda, are you okay?”

Will has gone…hunting again. Probably back where they nearly captured me. Hunting my pride.

Will’s not my savior. He’s a killer.

It’s the wake-up call I need. I’m a fool to think a hunter is going to save me. Protect me. Keep me alive. I’ll find another way. My fist clenches around his note, crumpling it into a ball in my hand. I’ll forget about Will. Sever whatever bond I feel with him. Only the decision doesn’t make me feel any better. My chest hurts even more.

Over the next few nights, I manage to sneak away to the neighborhood golf course twice to fly. Each time ends with me violently ill. The manifests are painful and difficult, but I’m no less determined. I have no choice. I have to keep trying. I have to fly. Even if Will was here, I would need to do this, need to learn to keep my draki alive all on my own.

I also work on Mom. Nag and plead every chance I get. Until she gazes at me dully, quietly, beyond arguing but still firm on us staying in Chaparral. Tonight, however, it’s Tamra hassling her.

Mom turns from the stove, a marinara-coated spoon in her hand. She asks again in that incredulous tone, “How much?”

Steam from a pot of pasta rises on the air behind her. I try not to stare at the billowing cloud that reminds me of the mists back home. My skin starts to ache.

I force my gaze back to Mom. She looks tired. Closer to her actual age of fifty-six. Draki age differently, more slowly. Our average life span runs about three hundred years. Once we reach puberty, the aging process slows. Right now, I look close to my age, but I’ll look like a teenager for several years to come. Even when I’m thirty.

Time is catching up with Mom though. The consequences for relinquishing her draki. She’s human now, and she finally looks it. In the creases on her forehead. In the tiny lines edging her eyes. Those lines are perpetual. Not just when she’s worried anymore.

I stand at the table with three dinner plates in my hands, watching as Tamra waves her flyer, deftly avoiding Mom’s question. “Come on, Mom. It looks great on college applications.”

I lower my head. Center a plate on the placemat. Hide rolling my eyes.

This is what Tamra wants. I should try to support her. Try not to choke on the image of Tamra hanging out with Brooklyn and her sisters of cheer.

“It’s a lot of money, Tamra.”

“Money we don’t have,” I can’t resist adding. Because I see how hard Mom works. Stale cigarette smoke from the casino clings to her, even after she showers and washes her hair. It’s there. Deep in her pores.

Tamra glares at me. I stare back, undaunted. Doesn’t she see the shadows under Mom’s eyes? Doesn’t she hear her come in at five in the morning?

“I can get a part-time job. Please, Mom. Just sign the form. We don’t even know if I’ll make the team. We only have to pay if I do.” The desperation in Tamra’s voice is something new. Before, with the pride, I had only ever seen it in her eyes. Never heard it in her voice. Back home she wanted a lot of things, but she was resigned to life the way it was. I wonder why she wants this so badly?

I blurt the question out without thinking.

Tamra looks at me, her eyes hard chips of amber. “It’s something I never even hoped for — and now it’s possible.”

And I get it. She can have it now. Normal. Acceptance. For however long we last in Chaparral. I feel the burden of that. I know it’s largely up to me whether things work out here.

This is a piece of her fantasy. The fantasy of being a normal girl with a normal life. For Tamra, cheerleading is the piece of ordinary she wants.

Mom stares at the permission form, the grooves around her mouth deepening. If she signs, Tamra can try