Tethered 01 - Catalyst (9 page)

I couldn’t be sure how long I spent standing in the kitchen, sipping the neon sugar Kace had given me, while thinking about things that had unfurled moments before, but streaks of pink and purple had spilled though the windows before I forced myself up the stairs and into bed. I lay there, unable to fall asleep, listening to the noises of the house, while I remembered the warmth that had consumed me upon our touching. The feel of Kace’s lips pressed against mine slid through me next. There was an undeniable attraction between us, and I wasn’t sure if it had to do with the magick that coursed through us, calling to one another, or if it simply was something that would have been there all along.

I remembered how he had mentioned two elements found in nature and thought about all I knew of the elements: Air, Fire, Water, Earth. How were Air and Fire connected? And then it hit me: Air ignited Fire. It fueled it. Was this what we were to each other? Why we were attracted to one another so intensely? Even realizing all of this didn’t make anything seem more believable, more acceptable. Everything still seemed so incredibly far-fetched.

Binks came into my bedroom then. He hopped up onto the foot of my bed and curled into a ball, like the one he’d been in on the kitchen counter earlier. I sat up and began stroking his back, listening to him respond to my touch with a rumbling purr.

“How is it possible you’re my grandmother’s cat? You don’t seem ancient to me,” I whispered.

Binks looked up at me. His head cocked to the side as he continued to glare at me as though he were trying to figure out what I was yapping about. He yawned and his eyes fluttered closed again as he laid his head back down against my comforter.

“I just don’t understand any of this,” I admitted as I fell back against my pillow with a soft thud.

I woke to the sound of my cell phone chiming loudly through my room.

“Jesus, will you answer that,” Vera yelled from somewhere in the house, startling me worse than waking to my phone. “It’s rung like twenty times already.”

“Wow, someone’s a little snippy,” I shouted back as I slid out of bed and padded across the floor to where my phone was going crazy on my dresser.

“You would be too if you had a headache as killer as mine right now,” Vera replied, walking past my room toward the stairs with her hands pressed to her temples.

I frowned after her. Hungover Vera was no fun. Ever.

My cell stopped ringing as soon as I picked it up. Glancing at the screen, I realized it had been my mom calling. I clicked call and waited, heart pounding, for her to answer. It was strange talking to her after everything I’d learned last night. After everything I’d come to find out about my grandmother in the last couple of days. Did she and Dad know any of this?

She answered after three rings. “Honey, how are you?”

I closed my eyes at the sweet sound of her voice, the genuine excitement. “Hey, Mom, I’m good.”

“So, have you girls spent a lot of time at the beach? I hope you’re remembering to wear some sunblock.”

“We haven’t really hung out at the beach during the day much. We went last night for a bonfire party with some people we met, but that’s about it,” I informed her, even though I knew exactly what her next words would be…some form of motherly concern.

“Oh, well…how old were these people? I’m not going to be delusional about the situation, I’m sure you were drinking. I just hope you girls didn’t accept any opened drinks from anyone and you stayed together.” Her voice managed to only crack once as she spoke. I knew she wanted to freak out, but she’d contained herself well.

“We did. We were safe about it. Promise,” I assured her. “And they were some locals who were around our age.”

“Well, I just worry about you, you know. Things can easily get out of hand at a party like that, especially with people you don’t know. I just want you girls to be safe.”

“I know, we are,” I said, hoping to ease her conscience for a second time.

“How about food, did you manage to find the grocery store okay?”

“Mom, the town is like the size of Linfrank… Finding a grocery store was a piece of cake.” Not really. I’d gotten lost once, but she didn’t need to know that. It would only make her worry more.

“You’re right. I know.” She sighed. “So, have you decided if you’re staying the two weeks like Vera, or are you gonna stick it out for the entire summer?” I could hear the panic in her voice clearly, even though she’d tried to hide it behind false excitement.

There was only one answer she was hoping for, and unfortunately, it wasn’t the one I was planning on giving. This was not a conversation I wanted to have at the moment with her. So, I did what any person would do… I stalled.

“Umm, I’m not sure yet.”

“Oh, okay” was all I got in reply.

“Well, I should probably go. I think Vera wants to go to breakfast or something,” I lied, because I didn’t feel like being on the phone with her anymore. It was awkward—something it had never been before between us.

“Breakfast? It’s eleven thirty.”

I had no idea what time it was. Obviously. “Brunch then.”

She chuckled a little. “All right, well I love you, sweetie. Have fun, but please stay safe.”

“Always, love you too. Bye, Mom.”

“Bye.”

I hung up with a weird feeling floating through my gut. Things had changed between us and she had no clue. I wanted to question her on what she knew about my biological parents, but didn’t know how to broach the subject. I was hopeful the time would come one day.

Vera stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the doorframe with a piece of burnt toast in one hand and a Mountain Dew in the other. Her tank top was inside out and backward, and her hair was in a rat’s nest-looking bun on top of her head. Mascara smeared beneath her eyes, creating a severe raccoon effect.

“God, you look like shit,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “And I was the one hammered last night, how is that even possible?”

I chuckled at her jab at my looks, wondering if she’d taken the time to look in a mirror yet this morning. I continued past her and into the kitchen for a glass of orange juice and a heaping bowl of Peanut Butter Cheerios.

“I didn’t sleep well,” I said.

There was no way I was telling her what happened between Kace and me last night. She’d think I was nuts for sure. Everyone would. Even I was still on the fence about it.

“Why is that? Did you have a little action going on last night?” She grinned at me wickedly and followed me into the kitchen. “Is that why there’s some guy’s number on the dry eraser board?”

I shook my head and smiled as I got a glass from in the cabinet. My stomach knotted at the memory of Kace scrolling his number across the board. “How do you know it’s a guy’s number? There’s no name.”

“A wild guess.” She leaned against the counter and took a tiny bite of her toast. “But, I know it is now.”

I poured some orange juice and put the container back in the fridge without looking at her. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because of the shit-eating grin on your face right now.”

“What shit-eating grin?” I asked, trying desperately to downgrade my grin to a small smile without much success.

“That one right there.” She laughed, pointing at my mouth. “So, is it Kace’s number?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” Damn she was good.

“He came over?” She set her burnt toast on the counter and twisted the cap of her Mountain Dew off. “Did you guys do the dirty?” She raised an eyebrow at me as she took a swig.

“I had to have someone help me get your drunk ass up to your room last night. And no, we didn’t.” I would have, most likely, but we didn’t and that was all Vera needed to know.

“I was bad off, wasn’t I?”

“Oh yeah.”

She leaned against the counter and forced herself to take another small bite of toast. “I feel it this morning, that’s for sure.”

“I bet you do,” I said, taking my bowl of cereal and glass of juice into the living room where I’d left the newspaper. I still needed to see if there was anyplace hiring, because one thing was certain—now that I knew what was inside of me, I needed to stay in Soul Harbor to figure out more about it, and that meant getting a job.

There were only a handful of places hiring in the entire paper. If I wanted to be a telemarketer, a truck driver, or a person who sold stuff off some sketchy website online, then I had it made. Unfortunately, none of those seemed to be up my alley. That left me with Ingles stocker, gas station attendant, table busser at Fisherman’s Brew, or cashier/stocker at Spellbinding Reads.