“Well, I guess we know the truth now.” Tony’s whisper was solemn, as if he never really believed it could be true. “I’m sorry, man. I hoped we were wrong.”
“Me too,” I whispered so low I wonder if Bryan even heard me.
He grabbed my hand and pulled us both up, his face full of weary lines. “Let’s get back to the dorms. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.”
In an instant, he let go of my hand and took off running.
I tried to keep up, but halfway across the quad my legs turned to mush and cold air seared into my lungs. I slowed the pace, but he kept on running into the night. The white outline of the hawk’s wings on his jacket practically flapped in the darkness, almost as if he were really flying. Tony and Lenny disappeared after him until all the boys were out of sight.
I whispered to the starry sky, “Help him figure this out.”
Laura and Brooke finally caught up to me.
Brooke nudged my shoulder. “He’ll be fine, he just needs some time to cool off.”
“You’re right, I know.” My hot breath steamed into the cold air. I had stuff to figure out, too. I hoped my dad could handle all the questions I was about to hurl at him over Thanksgiving break.
Laura’s lips curled up. “Let’s sneak back in the way we came.”
I nodded and followed them into the shadows, wishing I could turn back time to the way things were when my brother was safe in America—before he figured out that I was the Seer and he was not. I’d almost rather be in his shoes right now.
Chapter 24
Dad’s salt and pepper Einstein hair stuck out above the mob crowding the airline gate. My breath caught in my throat when I saw Mom wasn’t next to him. I exhaled the biggest sigh of relief in the history of the world, bobbing and weaving around the human clusters standing between me and my dad.
“Sweetie, you look so grown up.” He wrapped his big-bear arms around me, ruffling my hair. Some things never changed. “Montrose must be good for you.”
“Most of the time.” I bit back any hints of sarcasm in my tone. We had a whole forty-minute drive back home for me to interrogate him. “I missed you, Dad.”
“Me, too, Monkey.” His eyes glistened behind his turtle-shell frames, as if he wanted to say more. “C’mon, let’s get those bags of yours.”
“Just one this time.” I followed him to baggage claim, his arm slung over my shoulders.
“Really? That’s hard to believe.” A laugh rumbled from his chest. The Dad of my childhood still stood beside me, even if I wasn’t sure if he knew more about James than he’d told me.
The baggage carousel spilled over with luggage, a mosaic of colors blurring into its own pattern. Dad plucked my pink suitcase from the baggage-go-round. Like a twelve-year-old again, I trailed him to the parking lot.
When I’d picked out that bright pink suitcase years ago I’d filled it with jewelry, dolls, and dress-up clothes. Now it had traveled all the way to New York with me and back again, scuffed and frayed from the trip. If that bag could take a beating and keep going, couldn’t I do the same? I knew I had to.
“Hop in, monkey.” Dad hoisted my suitcase in the back of the van, then opened my door. “I’m surprised you’re letting me get away with calling you that.”
“That’s the last one.” I wagged my finger at him as he climbed behind the driver’s seat. “I only hung upside down on the monkey bars after you took me to the circus.”
“Ahem, every year from the time you were seven until you were twelve.” He started the car and headed to the exit, punching some buttons on the radio.
“All right, you had your fun. No more monkey talk.” Still, a teeny smile escaped.
“We’ll see.” He laughed his gentle, rumbly laugh again, turning up the radio. “It’s one of your favorite songs.”
The sweet refrain of Mrs. Robinson played from the speakers. “I just love the Beatles.”
“Didn’t we settle this years ago?” Dad shook his head as he steered our new Mercedes SUV onto the highway. “It’s not the Beatles. It’s Simon and Garfunkel.”
“No way.” I pumped up the volume until the bass vibrated the speakers. “It sounds like the Beatles.”
He turned the volume down. “I think you can take the word of someone who was actually alive when the song came out.”
I tapped the title into my phone. “Then they covered it from the Beatles, because it’s all over the Internet that it’s the Beatles.”
“And the Internet is so accurate.” Dad chuckled to himself.
The DJ came on after the song ended, announcing Mrs. Robinson by Simon and Garfunkel.
“No way,” I huffed. “That can’t be right.”
“You’re so stubborn, just like your mother.” His shoulders stiffened, like he didn’t mean to mention her.
I turned down the volume until the car was silent. “Why didn’t Mom come with you?”
“She had a lot of shopping to do with Paige. There’s a big dinner tomorrow, you know.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he kept his eyes on the road.
I chewed on my lip. “Good. Maybe now you can tell what really happened to James. And if you’re secretly a member of the Guardians.”
“I don’t know how you found out, but I’m glad you’re figuring things out for yourself.” The life drained from his voice. “Do you remember that night after graduation when you had a bad dream and woke me up?”
I stared across the car at him and nodded. “I’d forgotten all about it until recently.”
“Well, it wasn’t a dream.” He lowered his voice, as if anyone could hear us over the holiday highway traffic. “James really did get banished
