Sparks Fly

Chapter 15

Sparks Fly

Chapter 15

 "Grey, Grey, Grey," I sing out of tune, rubbing the fat cat behind his ears. Its purrs vibrate my hand. I find it almost impossible to fall asleep after everything that has happened in such a short time. I don't feel even the slightest bit comfortable sleeping in Kathy's home. Well that may be an exaggeration. She is my aunt in the end anyway. We're blood-related.

Tiredly, I stuff my face in Grey's fluffy fur, making sure my mouth is closed.

Grey growls.

"Shut up," I murmur. 

My ring is cold against my even colder skin. Examining it thoroughly, a flash of remembrance goes through me. Dad.

"Oh, Dad," I sigh into Grey's back. From behind me, someone enters the room. Considering the light footsteps, I take it’s Cliff.

"Tristen," he says from behind me. At his voice, I rise from Grey and rush up to him. His scent swivels through the room as I take his hand.

We sit at the side of the room, not looking at each other but at the ceiling instead. His firm hand dances along my arm.

"Cliff," I say, looking at him, my back against the wall. Breathing slowly and steadily, I stare at him silently. "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"

His hands are in his face, and I avert my gaze back to the ceiling, leaving him be.

"She said we can go swimming tomorrow."

"What the hell?" I snap, disbelieving. Kathy just saw us roughed up, at the edge of our lives, and she thinks we have the time to swim? Isabel's missing, maybe even dead, and she wants us to swim? "Is the old woman out of her mind?"

Cliff rolls his eyes.

"Tristen, stop with the stubborn attitude. Please."

Cliff is and will always be the only person who can actually hurt me with words. He has a smart mouth.

"Every human needs some relaxation time, Tristen." The way he says my name at the end of a sentence always adds extra gravity to his statement.

"Not when someone is missing like this."

"Even if we leave now, we have no idea where to look."

"Yes we do—"

"We used to, correction, Tristen."

"Don't—" I pause. "Say my name like that." Cliff looks at me with wide eyes, which is pretty rare for him. My heart skips a beat. "What?"

"Why can't I say your name like that, Tristen?"

"No reason," I lie, studying his dark eyes that always read reassurance. "Are we going to sleep anytime soon or what?" Standing up, I help up Cliff. Instead of following me up his hand pulls me down onto him. Stifling laughter, I struggle out of his grasp at last and find myself toppled over next to him.

"You're hopeless," Cliff says, giving me a half-smile, holding back a laugh.

"Man, I beat those gargoyles by myself. If I didn't do that, we'd all be dead by now."

He stands and walks to the doorway. "And you have my thanks, Tristen.” He’s standing at the door. "Honestly, thank you." A moment of silence.

"Any time, Cliff," I say, dismissing him with a hand. "I'm going to try to sleep. Make sure Kathy doesn't pop by in here. Please."

Cliff flashes me a smile. "You got it."

And just like that, I'm alone again. Solitude is necessary for anyone, but in my case, it's probably not too healthy. Being raised without anyone close, such as friends, I'm weak when it comes to being sociable. All I ever used to talk about with my mother was mean things that had attitude involved. Stubborn. Cliff called me stubborn. I know I'm stubborn, but I'm not about to change that. I've learned not to be nice to people; they'll only take advantage of you.