This is not a proper way of life; hiding in a cottage in the woods, fearing someone might see how we never change while the other two couples flaunt their youth to gain power. I should have lived and grown old and had children and died. Why wasn’t I content with what we had? Why did we have to go against the natural way of life and become these abominations? I cannot end my own life, but perhaps Dymeka can. I know he will recoil at the thought, but I cannot be more miserable than I already am. He must see that he is the only one who can do me proper justice and save me from my wretched existence.
Chapter 7
Esmeralda
He offered me his windbreaker. I tried to refuse it, but then the wind picked up and made me reconsider. I snatched it out of his hands and yanked it on. It fit perfectly, not that I should’ve been surprised. I’d been mistaken for a dude in the past. It was the curse of the curve-less.
We didn’t talk at first. I was too pissed about what he’d said and the superior tone he’d used to say it, and Charlie seemed content to walk in silence. But once I was done being indignant, I realized he’d probably done me a favor by throwing the cigarettes away.
I rubbed my hands together, casting the occasional glance his way. This guy was confusing. First, he chose not to rat me out to the security guard while I hid in the guys’ bathroom. But when I struck up conversation in art class, he tried to scare me away. Then he lectured me about the dangers of the city, gave up one of his bomb tacos, offered his jacket when I was cold, and was now walking me home. Still, he insisted he wasn’t a good person and we weren’t friends?
“Why’re you so hell-bent on scaring me off?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it personally. I scare everyone away. It’s just easier.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Since my sister’s…gift came to light, two schools of thought have been developed concerning me and my dysfunctional little family,” Charlie said, hunching his shoulders against the cold. “Either we’re circus freaks, solely here for the entertainment of morbidly curious paparazzi and the occasional crazy with a supernatural fetish, or we’re just plain creepy and shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the same air as normal people.”
“But it’s just your sister who has psychic abilities, right? Why should the world think you and your uncle are freaks too?” Charlie scowled at me and I dipped my head. “No offense.”
A gaggle of pedestrians crossed the street and came walking toward us as one giant mass. I scooted over, closer to him, and gave them plenty of room. Charlie waited until the voices and footsteps had faded behind us before he spoke again.
“My sister’s condition makes her sick so she stays inside a lot. Uncle Vic and I are the ones walking among the normal people every day. It’s easier for them to direct their sick fascination or misplaced fear on us instead of Jasmine. But since my uncle is such a respected detective, he hardly gets any heat. The few brave enough to snub him will do it in their gossip columns or whisper about him when he’s not around.” Charlie scratched his scalp through the top of his backwards ball cap and avoided my gaze. “I’m an easy target. I got tired of being the butt of people’s jokes and getting pelted with questions I didn’t want to answer so I started avoiding everyone. Pretty soon the world got the hint.”
“Sounds lonely,” I muttered.
Charlie scoffed. “Having space is better than not having any. Trust me.”
“Spare change?” a homeless man croaked from his stoop.
“Nah, man, sorry,” I said as we passed. I turned back to Charlie. “Let’s talk about something else then. What do you like to do in your spare time?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Why do you care?”
I waved a hand at the space between us. “We’re not so different, you and me. I’m the new kid in town. People I might actually wanna talk to don’t wanna talk to me, and the people who are brave enough to talk to me are usually not worth my time. Flying solo is okay and all, but…” I shrugged. “It’s also kind of nice to have somebody to talk to from time to time. And, try as you might to convince me otherwise, you’re the most decent person I’ve met so far.”
I raised a hand to prevent him from objecting. “We don’t gotta pour our hearts out to each other about our problems or our shitty family situations. I’ll stop asking about your sister and you can stop pretending you’re heartless. We’ll just talk when we want to. Deal?”
Charlie chewed on the inside of his cheek, those dark, brooding eyes fixed on what lay ahead. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he finally asked.
I smiled. “Nope.”
“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Deal.”
Chapter 8
Charles
“Who’s that?” Esmer asked when I pulled the buzzing cell phone out of my pocket.
“My uncle. Hold on a sec.” I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”
“You’ll pick up the eighth call. Okay. I’ll try to remember next time,” he murmured, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Where are you?”
I glanced at the upcoming street signs. “At the corner of Wallingford and ninety-second.”
My uncle exhaled loudly. “All right. I’m coming to get you.”
“Not yet.”
“What?” Victor Campbell didn’t need to raise his voice. He had the incredible talent of conveying his emotions with a single look or soft word. This one word told me I was grounded for life.
I turned away from Esmer and lowered my voice. “I ran into someone from school. She’s lost. I’m walking her home.”
“Stay where you are and I’ll come get you both.”
“We’re
