Blood Like Magic, page 24
Alex forces a thin smile. “Johan never does anything that doesn’t benefit Johan.”
“He’s our teacher, and he’s always answered my questions without asking for anything.” He hasn’t answered the way I want, and he doesn’t answer every question, but technically, he does help for free.
“That’s the thing—he never asks, but in the end, you wind up paying for his help.”
* * *
The fashion show space is a block away from Spadina Avenue and King Street West. It’s already hot, and being downtown makes it twice as scorching. The heated sewage smell that sticks to the inner city doesn’t help either.
Alex is sweating when we step out of the van with the garment bags. “Hack me, it’s hot.”
“It’s almost August.”
“I don’t care, there’s sweat under my boobs, I’m unhappy.”
“Understandable.”
The place where the fashion show is hosted is a nondescript brick building that spans about four units across and three floors up, marked only by a glowing “461” holo. Lauren’s face is pasted on the lamppost in front of it. Her presence is inescapable. Every poster is a reminder that my friend is gone and may not be coming back.
Alex leads the way up the steps into a cramped lobby with three doors. She pushes on the one marked with a hashtag symbol and walks into a huge open space.
The brick on the wall is exposed along with the beams and pipes on the towering ceiling. They’ve set up a long, raised platform in the middle that’s flanked by gray fabric-covered chairs.
“This is amazing,” I breathe.
Alex beams. “Right?”
We make our way to the start of the platform, where an indoor tent has been set up. Inside, it’s beautiful chaos. People in various states of dress rush around while bright-colored outfits exchange hands. I spy a veil so long there are two people carrying it.
We find the rack with Alex’s name to hang the clothes and help the models into the outfits to check the sizing. The clothes are different shades of purple, blue, and white in a galaxy theme. Her models run the gamut in body types, and they all look gorgeous.
“This is a fantastic collection.” I turn to my cousin, who’s staring at the models with shining eyes. “You put this all together, and it’s going to look beautiful going down the runway.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Alex pulls me into a hug I melt into. Even when I was little, being close to her always helped me feel calm. Keis and Keisha are more like friends than cousins. Alex is like my big sister.
“I’m happy I could help you,” I murmur into her shoulder before pulling away. “Go get changed, because people are coming in, and Keis sent me a message that they’re here.”
As Alex skitters away to change out of the T-shirt and sweatpants she wore over, I duck out of the tent and search around the room for the family.
Dad, Priya, and Eden are in their seats next to Granny and Uncle. I make my way over to them. “Where is everyone?”
Granny steupses. “You know your mom and aunt never miss an open bar.”
“It’s twelve p.m. What alcohol could they be serving?”
“Mimosas, apparently.”
I search for the bar across the way, and sure enough, Mom and Auntie are in line trying to get one of the orange juice and sparkling champagne drinks. Keis and Keisha are there too. Keisha probably to see if she can also sneak one, and Keis to make sure they don’t overdo it.
“I don’t know how I raised two lushes like that,” Granny grumbles.
She must have blocked out her vodka energy drink days. That or she’s bitter her doctor says she can’t drink anymore—too much strain on an already damaged liver courtesy of the aforementioned vodka energy drinks. I turn my head around the room. “No Davises?”
“Not a single one of them. That girl kills herself doing their mas costumes and her collection at the same time, and they can’t even show their faces. She’s lucky she has real family like you to help her out.”
“They might come.” For Alex’s sake, I hope they do. I know them coming is important to her. “Did you have lunch? I left party leftovers in the fridge.”
“We ate them.” Granny waves her hand at Dad and Priya. “They ate something else.”
“There was leftover vegetarian curry. You didn’t like it?” I cross my arms over my chest.
Priya shakes her head. “It was great. We just wanted something light for lunch. We know you have a big dinner planned for after the show.”
I realize that this is the first time I’ve talked to Priya in a while. It’s like ever since my task was announced, we’ve been winding our way around each other. Though I haven’t forgotten the promise I made her. And if the intensity in her eyes is any indication, neither has she.
I shift my gaze from her to Dad. “You never messaged me which one you liked better. Of the curries.”
He clenches his fists in his lap. “You should make your own stuff. You always used to.” He’s not even pretending he doesn’t know whose recipes I’ve been using.
“Always?” I snap. “Always since when?” He’s only been back for six years. I’ve been cooking my own recipes since I was six. Since he left. Granny would bring me into the kitchen with her and teach me so I wouldn’t just stay in my room and cry. Keis would sit on top of the island and watch us.
They were there, and he was gone.
“Whoa, superbad vibe over here. Maximum discomfort.” Clearly Keisha’s gift hasn’t dulled to the point of missing obvious signals.
Keis, Auntie, and Mom come over behind her, the latter two with champagne flutes.
“Let’s go see Alex.” I lead the way to the white tent with the twins trailing after me.
We duck into the area and sneak over to Alex’s section. Her sparkling violet-lined eyes meet mine, and she beams. Her excitement surrounds her in a halo and sails across the room.
She has a sheer black tank top tucked into a high-waisted skirt weaved with silver and violet thread that looks hand-stitched and, knowing Alex, probably is. Over her shoulders lies a transparent amber cape that falls across her back and glitters in the lights.
“You look stunning! Like a queen,” I gush. She glams up, but her outfits are for “out there” shock factor. This is the first time I’ve seen her look curated. Like she thought about every single aspect of her clothes.
“And those heels.” Keisha eyes our cousin’s feet.
“You like?” Alex holds out a pointed toe to show off the bedazzled stilettos on her feet.
Keisha grins. “I do.”
“When does your stuff come out?” Keis asks, looking around the space.
“I’m the closer for the show.” The pride is obvious in Alex’s voice. “I want people to see themselves. You know? See how beautiful they can be, no matter what.”
“They will.” Keis watches a few models decked out in shimmering red. “It’s unreal that you did this. It got pushed up a month earlier, right?”
“Yeah. At first, I freaked out, but now I’m kind of grateful.” She gazes around the tent with a grim smile. “This may be the last time my clothes ever look like this.”
“What are you talking about?”
Alex’s eyes cut to me, and the guilt in them hits me like a splash of oil from a pan. “I don’t mean… Hack it, I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s fine.”
“In case I fail, and you lose your gift.” I try to focus on a model in the corner getting fastened into a corset. I believe in Alex’s skill, in her collection, and I spent this time helping her because of that. And yet… she doesn’t feel the same way about me. Her magic is running out the longer I take.
Keis grimaces. “You shouldn’t worry about that.” I don’t know if she’s talking to me or Alex.
“If you need your gift to make good clothes, maybe you need to get sparked and wake up.” Keisha bristles.
The guilt slips from Alex’s face and gives way to fury. “Excuse me?”
I tangle my hands into a knot. “You two…”
Keisha’s voice cuts across mine. “If you need to rely on powers to fuel your talent, you need to face the fact that you don’t have any.”
Alex’s chest swells, and her eyes narrow. “My gift is an extension of my natural ability. It’s worth something.” She gives Keisha a once-over. “What does yours do? If you’re looking for the one born without talent, try a mirror.”
“Both of you, shut up,” Keis snaps. “Did you forget about Eden?”
Guilt even harsher than before rips across Alex’s face. “I know.”
“I’m not going to let Eden die,” I whisper.
“I know! I just…” Alex shakes her head and spins away from us, cape billowing, and rushes farther into the canopy.
I’m sinking into the ground and dragging everyone with me, like a whirlpool that can only destroy and drown.
“Was that necessary?” Keis barks at Keisha.
Keisha’s face is contorted with her rage. “When Alex wants to suggest that Voya not killing someone sucks for her? When she wants to conveniently forget that this is about Eden’s life and not her hacking gift? Yeah, it’s necessary.” She jerks her eyes to me. “This is what you chose, Vo.”
I keep my eyes on the ground. What am I supposed to say to that?
“There’s more to it than that, and keep your voice down,” Keis hisses.
“Is there? When Voya came to ask what you thought she should do, you had a big talk about loving magic, and our ancestry, and how she should ‘try’ and all that shit. Now Eden might die. This is on all of you for pushing that.”
“I made my own decision,” I say.
Keisha laughs. “That’s cute, Vo, that you think you have that sort of autonomy.” She glares at her sister. “Everyone acts like magic is a gift. It isn’t. It’s a curse that lets us pretend we’re a connected and functional family when we’re actually splitting at the seams.” She doesn’t wait for us to respond before she stomps away.
I accepted the task because I wanted Eden to have a chance at magic. For Thomases after us to keep that connection to our ancestors. I made that choice. Didn’t I? I replay that day over in my head, trying to decide if I really was the one who made my decision, or if I let everyone else have so much input that they chose for me, just like I wanted.
I look at Keis for an answer. She’s grinding her teeth and staring after her sister.
I nudge her with my elbow. “Let’s get to our seats.”
We go back to the rest of the family. Keisha is chatting with Auntie, a smile pasted on her face. Keisha must be pissed, but she’s pretending everything is fine so she doesn’t ruin Alex’s show.
Keisha is crass and blunt. And yet she means well. She didn’t say those things to spark our wires. She said it because she’s worried.
The lights dim and an announcer launches into a spiel about the first designer and their collection. Later, we scream our faces off for Alex when her models grace the runway. We ignore the empty seats the Davises never fill, and no one asks whether Uncle Vacu will be coming. I know Auntie Elaine won’t be, even if no one would ever mention her.
I work hard to suppress the sour taste in my mouth, and the voice in my head that wonders if Keisha is right. If magic is a patch that we’re using to hide how broken we are.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
For the entire show Dad sits stiffly in his chair and never once looks over at me, no matter what glances I throw his way. I have an aunt who should be here for her daughter’s show, and no one cares to discuss why she isn’t. An aunt with as much of a love for cooking as me and who was connected to someone in NuGene the same way I am. One that he knows about but refuses to discuss.
I’m tired of being left in the dark about her.
As the show winds down, I shoot off a message to Luc: I know a way we can find out more about my aunt and Justin, but you need to come to my house. Preferably now.
He responds back immediately: Address?
I shoot off the information to him and stand from my chair.
Eden drags Dad and Priya to take a closer look at a model decked out in slick black feathers that sparkle emerald in the light. At the rate Mom and Auntie are going, Dad and Priya will be stuck here to drive everyone home.
I have more than enough time to get back before them.
Keis must have read my thoughts because she says, “I’m coming.”
“You’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need you to stay here and make sure they don’t leave too early.” I twist my hands around each other. “And the more time I can spend alone with Luc, the better. I have a task to complete. It’s not easy to fall in love with someone when your family is hovering.”
Keis crosses her arms. “Fine.”
“Thank you!” I head for the exit, where Keisha is swiping through her phone. From the intensity in her eyes, I assume she’s setting up a date.
“Where are you going?” she says.
I resist a groan. “Home.”
“Why?”
“To get started on dinner.”
“Liar. You made everything last night—you just need to heat it up.”
Why is everyone in this family so nosy? “I’m going to meet Luc so he can help me find out more about Auntie Elaine.”
“Is that it?”
“It’s Luc, aka my match, aka the victim of my task. So, no. That’s not it.”
Keisha bobs her head and returns to tapping on her phone, though her lips press together so hard it looks painful.
“Are you done?”
“I’ve already expressed my opinion a thousand times. Whatever. It’s not like we can go back in time and make a better choice. We have to save Eden. Doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” I snap back, but under my breath so I don’t have to argue or get poked with one of her pointy nails.
“Hey, come look at this,” Keisha says, her voice softer now. She waves me closer to her.
Tentatively, I take the few steps over, and she shows me her phone. It’s her dating feed, which is basically her normal feed plus a bit more information, like how she’s looking to date girls. Now there’s another word listed: “demiromantic.”
“I figured that was as upfront as I could be about not being the sort of person who will know if I like them or not in a week,” she says. “I didn’t want to be that direct before. But sometimes something comes out of my sister’s mouth that isn’t complete spam.”
“She has her moments,” I say with a smile. “That’s great, Keisha. Honestly.”
She tries to shrug it off, but her chest puffs out and her lips widen into something closer to a smile. “Maybe that won’t always be the right word for me, but it’s what fits right now.” Keisha nudges me. “I know what’s right for me. And I’m sure you know what’s right for you, no matter what I think. Go do your thing.”
It’s not quite approval, but it’s acceptance. Keisha, like her mom, doesn’t always have the most delicate way of saying things, but she always means well. Her being sparked about this is only because she cares, I know that.
“I’ll see you later,” I say.
I take one last look at my family and find Priya staring back at me, her hold tight on Eden’s hand. Her gaze is intense and searching. I swallow and give her a little nod.
I’m working on it.
I step out of the building and make my way home. I’m doing this for the future of the family, and that’s good enough for me. Like Keisha said, we can’t go back in time and change it.
* * *
By the time I make it home, Luc is already there, sitting on the front step of our two-story plantation-style house, looking out of place on our block. But he looks at home among the pristine white columns and shuttered windows, illuminated by the porch lights. “Your neighborhood is a case study in poor city planning.”
“Wow. You excel at being an asshole, did you know that? I’m sorry it’s not identical condos or lofts or wherever it is you live.”
“Condos.” He stands and brushes off the back of his pants. “I’m not saying it looks bad. Your house has a great historical feel to it. It’s just a shame it’s surrounded by this chaos.”
I walk past him to open the door and walk inside. If only he knew how historic this house really is. “We can go to my room.”
He shuts the front door behind him. “Doesn’t your mom care about you having a boy alone in there?”
My foot freezes on the step going upstairs, and I jerk my head back. In ordinary circumstances, she would, but in this situation, she might prefer it. Especially after what she said at the party yesterday. She wants this task done and dusted. Either way, I hadn’t actually considered the implications of being alone in my bedroom with a boy that I kind-of-sort-of like.
I swallow.
Luc does his little smile, a tug and bite on the lips, misinterpreting my discomfort. “You didn’t think about that, did you?”
I take my foot back off the step. My face heats, and I rub at it roughly. “Let’s do this in the kitchen instead.”
We enter the kitchen, where my tablet is sitting on the island from last night when I was trying out some of Auntie Elaine’s recipes. I turn on the oven and toss in dinner to heat up. With the amount of times I’ll have to turn the thing back on, it’ll be ready by the time everyone gets home.
“This situation could have been avoided by doing this somewhere other than your house,” Luc drawls.
“Can’t. The almanac is on a local server. We can’t access it outside the house.”
“Almanac?”
“Our family records. We’re into history and keeping track of everything.”
“And you keep it on a secure local server, which I’m assuming has strong enough security that you need me to hack into it? And I’m also assuming this is the server your aunt’s sequence data was sent to?” Luc stares down at the tablet in my hands. “What sort of family history needs that much protecting?”
The magical kind.
I ignore his question, pull up Auntie Elaine’s file, and hand the tablet over. “Here.”
“He’s our teacher, and he’s always answered my questions without asking for anything.” He hasn’t answered the way I want, and he doesn’t answer every question, but technically, he does help for free.
“That’s the thing—he never asks, but in the end, you wind up paying for his help.”
* * *
The fashion show space is a block away from Spadina Avenue and King Street West. It’s already hot, and being downtown makes it twice as scorching. The heated sewage smell that sticks to the inner city doesn’t help either.
Alex is sweating when we step out of the van with the garment bags. “Hack me, it’s hot.”
“It’s almost August.”
“I don’t care, there’s sweat under my boobs, I’m unhappy.”
“Understandable.”
The place where the fashion show is hosted is a nondescript brick building that spans about four units across and three floors up, marked only by a glowing “461” holo. Lauren’s face is pasted on the lamppost in front of it. Her presence is inescapable. Every poster is a reminder that my friend is gone and may not be coming back.
Alex leads the way up the steps into a cramped lobby with three doors. She pushes on the one marked with a hashtag symbol and walks into a huge open space.
The brick on the wall is exposed along with the beams and pipes on the towering ceiling. They’ve set up a long, raised platform in the middle that’s flanked by gray fabric-covered chairs.
“This is amazing,” I breathe.
Alex beams. “Right?”
We make our way to the start of the platform, where an indoor tent has been set up. Inside, it’s beautiful chaos. People in various states of dress rush around while bright-colored outfits exchange hands. I spy a veil so long there are two people carrying it.
We find the rack with Alex’s name to hang the clothes and help the models into the outfits to check the sizing. The clothes are different shades of purple, blue, and white in a galaxy theme. Her models run the gamut in body types, and they all look gorgeous.
“This is a fantastic collection.” I turn to my cousin, who’s staring at the models with shining eyes. “You put this all together, and it’s going to look beautiful going down the runway.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Alex pulls me into a hug I melt into. Even when I was little, being close to her always helped me feel calm. Keis and Keisha are more like friends than cousins. Alex is like my big sister.
“I’m happy I could help you,” I murmur into her shoulder before pulling away. “Go get changed, because people are coming in, and Keis sent me a message that they’re here.”
As Alex skitters away to change out of the T-shirt and sweatpants she wore over, I duck out of the tent and search around the room for the family.
Dad, Priya, and Eden are in their seats next to Granny and Uncle. I make my way over to them. “Where is everyone?”
Granny steupses. “You know your mom and aunt never miss an open bar.”
“It’s twelve p.m. What alcohol could they be serving?”
“Mimosas, apparently.”
I search for the bar across the way, and sure enough, Mom and Auntie are in line trying to get one of the orange juice and sparkling champagne drinks. Keis and Keisha are there too. Keisha probably to see if she can also sneak one, and Keis to make sure they don’t overdo it.
“I don’t know how I raised two lushes like that,” Granny grumbles.
She must have blocked out her vodka energy drink days. That or she’s bitter her doctor says she can’t drink anymore—too much strain on an already damaged liver courtesy of the aforementioned vodka energy drinks. I turn my head around the room. “No Davises?”
“Not a single one of them. That girl kills herself doing their mas costumes and her collection at the same time, and they can’t even show their faces. She’s lucky she has real family like you to help her out.”
“They might come.” For Alex’s sake, I hope they do. I know them coming is important to her. “Did you have lunch? I left party leftovers in the fridge.”
“We ate them.” Granny waves her hand at Dad and Priya. “They ate something else.”
“There was leftover vegetarian curry. You didn’t like it?” I cross my arms over my chest.
Priya shakes her head. “It was great. We just wanted something light for lunch. We know you have a big dinner planned for after the show.”
I realize that this is the first time I’ve talked to Priya in a while. It’s like ever since my task was announced, we’ve been winding our way around each other. Though I haven’t forgotten the promise I made her. And if the intensity in her eyes is any indication, neither has she.
I shift my gaze from her to Dad. “You never messaged me which one you liked better. Of the curries.”
He clenches his fists in his lap. “You should make your own stuff. You always used to.” He’s not even pretending he doesn’t know whose recipes I’ve been using.
“Always?” I snap. “Always since when?” He’s only been back for six years. I’ve been cooking my own recipes since I was six. Since he left. Granny would bring me into the kitchen with her and teach me so I wouldn’t just stay in my room and cry. Keis would sit on top of the island and watch us.
They were there, and he was gone.
“Whoa, superbad vibe over here. Maximum discomfort.” Clearly Keisha’s gift hasn’t dulled to the point of missing obvious signals.
Keis, Auntie, and Mom come over behind her, the latter two with champagne flutes.
“Let’s go see Alex.” I lead the way to the white tent with the twins trailing after me.
We duck into the area and sneak over to Alex’s section. Her sparkling violet-lined eyes meet mine, and she beams. Her excitement surrounds her in a halo and sails across the room.
She has a sheer black tank top tucked into a high-waisted skirt weaved with silver and violet thread that looks hand-stitched and, knowing Alex, probably is. Over her shoulders lies a transparent amber cape that falls across her back and glitters in the lights.
“You look stunning! Like a queen,” I gush. She glams up, but her outfits are for “out there” shock factor. This is the first time I’ve seen her look curated. Like she thought about every single aspect of her clothes.
“And those heels.” Keisha eyes our cousin’s feet.
“You like?” Alex holds out a pointed toe to show off the bedazzled stilettos on her feet.
Keisha grins. “I do.”
“When does your stuff come out?” Keis asks, looking around the space.
“I’m the closer for the show.” The pride is obvious in Alex’s voice. “I want people to see themselves. You know? See how beautiful they can be, no matter what.”
“They will.” Keis watches a few models decked out in shimmering red. “It’s unreal that you did this. It got pushed up a month earlier, right?”
“Yeah. At first, I freaked out, but now I’m kind of grateful.” She gazes around the tent with a grim smile. “This may be the last time my clothes ever look like this.”
“What are you talking about?”
Alex’s eyes cut to me, and the guilt in them hits me like a splash of oil from a pan. “I don’t mean… Hack it, I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s fine.”
“In case I fail, and you lose your gift.” I try to focus on a model in the corner getting fastened into a corset. I believe in Alex’s skill, in her collection, and I spent this time helping her because of that. And yet… she doesn’t feel the same way about me. Her magic is running out the longer I take.
Keis grimaces. “You shouldn’t worry about that.” I don’t know if she’s talking to me or Alex.
“If you need your gift to make good clothes, maybe you need to get sparked and wake up.” Keisha bristles.
The guilt slips from Alex’s face and gives way to fury. “Excuse me?”
I tangle my hands into a knot. “You two…”
Keisha’s voice cuts across mine. “If you need to rely on powers to fuel your talent, you need to face the fact that you don’t have any.”
Alex’s chest swells, and her eyes narrow. “My gift is an extension of my natural ability. It’s worth something.” She gives Keisha a once-over. “What does yours do? If you’re looking for the one born without talent, try a mirror.”
“Both of you, shut up,” Keis snaps. “Did you forget about Eden?”
Guilt even harsher than before rips across Alex’s face. “I know.”
“I’m not going to let Eden die,” I whisper.
“I know! I just…” Alex shakes her head and spins away from us, cape billowing, and rushes farther into the canopy.
I’m sinking into the ground and dragging everyone with me, like a whirlpool that can only destroy and drown.
“Was that necessary?” Keis barks at Keisha.
Keisha’s face is contorted with her rage. “When Alex wants to suggest that Voya not killing someone sucks for her? When she wants to conveniently forget that this is about Eden’s life and not her hacking gift? Yeah, it’s necessary.” She jerks her eyes to me. “This is what you chose, Vo.”
I keep my eyes on the ground. What am I supposed to say to that?
“There’s more to it than that, and keep your voice down,” Keis hisses.
“Is there? When Voya came to ask what you thought she should do, you had a big talk about loving magic, and our ancestry, and how she should ‘try’ and all that shit. Now Eden might die. This is on all of you for pushing that.”
“I made my own decision,” I say.
Keisha laughs. “That’s cute, Vo, that you think you have that sort of autonomy.” She glares at her sister. “Everyone acts like magic is a gift. It isn’t. It’s a curse that lets us pretend we’re a connected and functional family when we’re actually splitting at the seams.” She doesn’t wait for us to respond before she stomps away.
I accepted the task because I wanted Eden to have a chance at magic. For Thomases after us to keep that connection to our ancestors. I made that choice. Didn’t I? I replay that day over in my head, trying to decide if I really was the one who made my decision, or if I let everyone else have so much input that they chose for me, just like I wanted.
I look at Keis for an answer. She’s grinding her teeth and staring after her sister.
I nudge her with my elbow. “Let’s get to our seats.”
We go back to the rest of the family. Keisha is chatting with Auntie, a smile pasted on her face. Keisha must be pissed, but she’s pretending everything is fine so she doesn’t ruin Alex’s show.
Keisha is crass and blunt. And yet she means well. She didn’t say those things to spark our wires. She said it because she’s worried.
The lights dim and an announcer launches into a spiel about the first designer and their collection. Later, we scream our faces off for Alex when her models grace the runway. We ignore the empty seats the Davises never fill, and no one asks whether Uncle Vacu will be coming. I know Auntie Elaine won’t be, even if no one would ever mention her.
I work hard to suppress the sour taste in my mouth, and the voice in my head that wonders if Keisha is right. If magic is a patch that we’re using to hide how broken we are.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
For the entire show Dad sits stiffly in his chair and never once looks over at me, no matter what glances I throw his way. I have an aunt who should be here for her daughter’s show, and no one cares to discuss why she isn’t. An aunt with as much of a love for cooking as me and who was connected to someone in NuGene the same way I am. One that he knows about but refuses to discuss.
I’m tired of being left in the dark about her.
As the show winds down, I shoot off a message to Luc: I know a way we can find out more about my aunt and Justin, but you need to come to my house. Preferably now.
He responds back immediately: Address?
I shoot off the information to him and stand from my chair.
Eden drags Dad and Priya to take a closer look at a model decked out in slick black feathers that sparkle emerald in the light. At the rate Mom and Auntie are going, Dad and Priya will be stuck here to drive everyone home.
I have more than enough time to get back before them.
Keis must have read my thoughts because she says, “I’m coming.”
“You’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need you to stay here and make sure they don’t leave too early.” I twist my hands around each other. “And the more time I can spend alone with Luc, the better. I have a task to complete. It’s not easy to fall in love with someone when your family is hovering.”
Keis crosses her arms. “Fine.”
“Thank you!” I head for the exit, where Keisha is swiping through her phone. From the intensity in her eyes, I assume she’s setting up a date.
“Where are you going?” she says.
I resist a groan. “Home.”
“Why?”
“To get started on dinner.”
“Liar. You made everything last night—you just need to heat it up.”
Why is everyone in this family so nosy? “I’m going to meet Luc so he can help me find out more about Auntie Elaine.”
“Is that it?”
“It’s Luc, aka my match, aka the victim of my task. So, no. That’s not it.”
Keisha bobs her head and returns to tapping on her phone, though her lips press together so hard it looks painful.
“Are you done?”
“I’ve already expressed my opinion a thousand times. Whatever. It’s not like we can go back in time and make a better choice. We have to save Eden. Doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” I snap back, but under my breath so I don’t have to argue or get poked with one of her pointy nails.
“Hey, come look at this,” Keisha says, her voice softer now. She waves me closer to her.
Tentatively, I take the few steps over, and she shows me her phone. It’s her dating feed, which is basically her normal feed plus a bit more information, like how she’s looking to date girls. Now there’s another word listed: “demiromantic.”
“I figured that was as upfront as I could be about not being the sort of person who will know if I like them or not in a week,” she says. “I didn’t want to be that direct before. But sometimes something comes out of my sister’s mouth that isn’t complete spam.”
“She has her moments,” I say with a smile. “That’s great, Keisha. Honestly.”
She tries to shrug it off, but her chest puffs out and her lips widen into something closer to a smile. “Maybe that won’t always be the right word for me, but it’s what fits right now.” Keisha nudges me. “I know what’s right for me. And I’m sure you know what’s right for you, no matter what I think. Go do your thing.”
It’s not quite approval, but it’s acceptance. Keisha, like her mom, doesn’t always have the most delicate way of saying things, but she always means well. Her being sparked about this is only because she cares, I know that.
“I’ll see you later,” I say.
I take one last look at my family and find Priya staring back at me, her hold tight on Eden’s hand. Her gaze is intense and searching. I swallow and give her a little nod.
I’m working on it.
I step out of the building and make my way home. I’m doing this for the future of the family, and that’s good enough for me. Like Keisha said, we can’t go back in time and change it.
* * *
By the time I make it home, Luc is already there, sitting on the front step of our two-story plantation-style house, looking out of place on our block. But he looks at home among the pristine white columns and shuttered windows, illuminated by the porch lights. “Your neighborhood is a case study in poor city planning.”
“Wow. You excel at being an asshole, did you know that? I’m sorry it’s not identical condos or lofts or wherever it is you live.”
“Condos.” He stands and brushes off the back of his pants. “I’m not saying it looks bad. Your house has a great historical feel to it. It’s just a shame it’s surrounded by this chaos.”
I walk past him to open the door and walk inside. If only he knew how historic this house really is. “We can go to my room.”
He shuts the front door behind him. “Doesn’t your mom care about you having a boy alone in there?”
My foot freezes on the step going upstairs, and I jerk my head back. In ordinary circumstances, she would, but in this situation, she might prefer it. Especially after what she said at the party yesterday. She wants this task done and dusted. Either way, I hadn’t actually considered the implications of being alone in my bedroom with a boy that I kind-of-sort-of like.
I swallow.
Luc does his little smile, a tug and bite on the lips, misinterpreting my discomfort. “You didn’t think about that, did you?”
I take my foot back off the step. My face heats, and I rub at it roughly. “Let’s do this in the kitchen instead.”
We enter the kitchen, where my tablet is sitting on the island from last night when I was trying out some of Auntie Elaine’s recipes. I turn on the oven and toss in dinner to heat up. With the amount of times I’ll have to turn the thing back on, it’ll be ready by the time everyone gets home.
“This situation could have been avoided by doing this somewhere other than your house,” Luc drawls.
“Can’t. The almanac is on a local server. We can’t access it outside the house.”
“Almanac?”
“Our family records. We’re into history and keeping track of everything.”
“And you keep it on a secure local server, which I’m assuming has strong enough security that you need me to hack into it? And I’m also assuming this is the server your aunt’s sequence data was sent to?” Luc stares down at the tablet in my hands. “What sort of family history needs that much protecting?”
The magical kind.
I ignore his question, pull up Auntie Elaine’s file, and hand the tablet over. “Here.”
