My parents were in bed when I got home. I had checked my phone and saw that they had texted me a couple of times, first asking when I would be home, then happy birthday, then that they were going to sleep. My hands firmly tucked into my pockets for warmth, I headed to my room.
Jace was sitting on my bed, legs crossed with hair in his face. He looked up from a book with hunched shoulders. His eyes were shifting with unrestrained annoyance, and I took a step back. Guilt melted the effects of the unexpectedly good start to my birthday, but I reminded myself that I was allowed to have friends, which included other alien boys. Ones I had dated...well, maybe not. I sighed.
"Where did you go with him?" he asked quietly, voice steady. His gaze didn't waver. I swept my hair away from my face uncomfortably.
"We just ate. He wanted to say happy birthday at midnight."
He placed the book next to him, obviously a prop, and stood with fluid predatory grace. In an instant, he was only inches from my face, green glow dancing over my skin with the accompanied tingles jumping to desperately meet his touch. I sucked in a breath at the hurt that flashed over his face, followed by anger.
"Ate? Was that all?"
"Yes, I swear Jace. Nothing happened. He's just a friend." My voice cracked. I realized my hands had balled into protective little fists that sat cold and clammy at the bottom of my sweatshirt pocket. His breath touched my face, smelling like that exotic spice. It flared in my chest, aching for him to be closer.
"He was carrying you. Like he had taken you some place. Did you not think I wanted to be the first to wish you a good birthday, Skyler?" He looked away finally, running a hand through his black waves. I felt shorter than usual somehow, my insides cringing inside my ribcage. "Did you have a great time? With your ex-boyfriend?"
Now I was the one to look to the side as if slapped, his words hitting me like clipped hard rocks. I didn't blame him, I wouldn't want him to see an ex-girlfriend like a "friend." I hadn't done anything. But I didn't know how to help this situation when my head was scrambling more than an egg, a new ache stretching to my temples. My voice tumbled out.
"Yes, he's my ex, Jace. But I literally don't see him that way anymore. I'm with you. I love you. You can probably see that in my aura, right? You don't have anything to worry about. All I can say is that if you don't want me to see him, then I won't. But I didn't think it'd be an issue. I've made my boundaries clear to him, trust me. He's only a friend, if that, probably more an acquaintance than anything."
I watched his chest rise and fall in irregular short breaths, then saw them slow. His eyes flickered when he blinked, their light dimming but not done shifting. He looked back to me, but not quite at me, seeing something else. My aura.
"Why are you so guilty then?" he murmured, voice roughening. "I see your love, but why guilt? For the past couple of weeks. And-" he squinted "-embarrassment?"
"Well, wouldn't you?" I shrugged, switching feet. I hoped that my parents wouldn't be woken up with our voices, especially my mom with her hearing. I winced. The hope that I was making amends made me almost relieved. "Because, I love you and of course I'll feel guilty when I hurt you somehow. Even if there's not a real reason. It's how it is. And I'm embarrassed because...well, I don't know. I don't like looking bad in front of you, maybe."
He was still for three long breaths, eyes fastened to my face. I wanted to squirm. My neck was aching with the effort of looking up at him along with the pounding in my head. My brain felt swollen, throbbing like a wound. When would the pain end? This thought distracted me momentarily, so I was stunned when Jace swept forward and pulled me to his chest. His heart beat in bird-like flutters. It reassured me, so I eased into it. My hands balled in the fabric of his t-shirt. I realized that my cheeks were damp.
His face buried in my tangled hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this way. It's your birthday. Happy birthday." He kissed my forehead, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. "I do not know what came over me. I still have yet to understand this body."
I laughed, squeezing him tighter. "No, I understand. I'd be jealous too. It's cute, actually. Means you care."
"Of course I care," he replied in shock. "How could I not? It does not seem possible at this point to not."
I sobered. The tug made me pause, but I had to tell him. It wasn't right to not tell him when he was technically my boyfriend. It felt like he was more, but I wouldn't mention that. When I spoke, my voice was quiet and...guilty. I wanted to scowl at myself.
"I need to tell you something though."
He pulled away, scanning my face. His brows knit low over his eyes. "What is it?"
I paused. Then it came out in a blurt. "I'm half Morfilian. My mom is one of you."
His face didn't flinch or cringe like I thought it would. Nothing happened, actually. He just kind of gazed at me with a shuttered expression until I thought he wouldn't reply. My heart fluttered uneasily.
"I figured," he finally said, both of his hands cradling my face. "I knew you were not ordinary. It is my job to know."
I couldn't believe it. Now he was the one holding back information. Annoyed, I pulled away and crossed my arms. But really, it was me holding myself together, because betrayal was as much a bitch as jealousy. "You didn't want to tell me? You left me feeling guilty about not telling you, because I want to protect my family knowing it's your job. But told you anyway."
His face didn't change, still that walled up mask. His face was like real-life stone, flexible and smooth yet sharp and unreal. "I was not sure, but many factors have come to light."
"You still could have told me!" My voice was louder than I intended, and I quieted it. His face tightened. "Just go. I'm tired and I want to sleep. I don't want to deal with this right now."
"But-"
"No. Go."
Who knew what else he was holding back? That possibility was a little shard to my chest. My head wanted to crack open. I moved to my closet and took off my sweatshirt. I didn't hear anything, but I could feel it when he left. I turned to make sure, relieved when my room was empty.
*********************************
The morning came bright and cold. My curtains fluttered in the little breeze that flowed in through the the little space I had open in the window. Birds were singing. This all didn't seem appropriate.
The smell of biscuits and gravy got me out bed finally, after stewing under the covers for about an hour. The sunlight that lay across my face had warmed my skin. I sighed and slipped on my pair of teddy bear slippers.
Downstairs, I found my mom at the stove stirring the cast iron skillet of sausage gravy. She smiled at me knowingly as I sat down at the table and yawned.
"Have a nice night?" she asked.
All I did was grumble. The perk of coffee was lulling, and I drooped into a grumpy slouch. It didn't look like Dad was up yet, which was the usual until Mom would call that breakfast was done. This was fine with me; my mind was preoccupied with Jace and his irritating need to not tell me things. He knew? Why didn't he ask more questions then? Discussing thoughts and theories were a vital part of being with someone, I had thought. The oven dinged, and my mom went about the kitchen in a little cloud of smells and movement. I huffed.
"Skyler?"
I looked up and realized she had been talking to me. Shit. "Yeah?"
"I want to know about last night. Why did you ask things you already knew?" Her face was serious as she held a spatula at the ready, steam wafting from the pan in front of her.
I hunched even farther. "Just curious, Mom. That's all."
"You're lying," she said, shaking the spatula with cocked brows. She had always had the uncanny ability to be a human lie detector. But now that ability was probably the product of supernatural genes, dammit.
"I could say the same for you," I grumbled under my breath.
"What do you mean," she said quietly, not forming a question but a statement. The oven dinged again, the incessant bleating driving my ears into a ringing frenzy. I held my head with my hands and put my forehead to the cool wood of the table. Everything hurt this morning, coming all in one big gust of tingling nerve endings. My mother took the biscuits out and turned the stove off, seeming to yell from afar for my dad that breakfast was ready. I felt her arms go around my shoulders a minute later, the sweep of her peach scented hair falling around me in warm comforting waves.
"Skyler, it'll be okay," she murmured into my ear. "You can talk to me, you know that. I think it's time we talked."
Not lifting my head off the table, I nodded and groaned. Faintly, my dad's footsteps drifted closer and closer, so I squeezed my eyes closed and lifted. Deep breathing seemed to ease the aching in my joints. Mom's eyes were tilted with worry, but she continued to move about getting plates down from cabinets and setting them out casually. Dad entered, stopping to bend his back in a stretch. I noticed my mother place her signature orange juice concoction by her plate before grabbing her coffee mug and sitting down.
"How'd last night go?" he asked gruffly. "We wanted to stay up, but didn't know when you'd be back. Everything go alright?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Just hung out with an old friend. Remember Rowan?"
They both froze and glanced at each other. Slowly, he nodded. Mom's lips had gone tight, but she set out the plate of biscuits and the gravy boat of white fluff that was ready to drench my plate. The small plate of piled bacon seemed so far away as I immediately grabbed and began to manically eat in an effort to distract myself from their reactions. Dad cleared his throat.
"Isn't he...uh-you know, your ex boyfriend?" He dug out some sleepy dust and filled his own plate. He took a bite, obviously savoring my mom's cooking. "Mmm, Maeris, this is as good as ever." He winked.
"Yeah, but we're just friends now. You know, I'm with Jace now," I said, ignoring that gesture as the bite of biscuit I had in my mouth suddenly turned to ash. I frowned and chugged some coffee. The thought of him couldn't just ruin my appetite, not when I was eating my favorite breakfast food. I pushed it out of my mind and continued to enjoy the meal.
"Sure, but sweetie, didn't he hurt you?" Way to rip off the Band-Aid on the giant elephant in the room, Mom. During the Christmas break, I had made sure not to bring him over, always suggesting Jace's house instead, for self-evident reasons.
"Uh, I guess. But that was forever ago." I waved it off, trying to make it a typical teen reaction. "He's matured a bit. He moved back recently, and I kind of felt sorry for him because he didn't seem to have any friends here anymore."
"Ah," was all my dad said. He was too involved with food.
The rest of the morning went semi-smoothly. It was Saturday thank God, right before school started up again. I didn't want to think about all these aches, sitting in the hard plastic chairs all day and pretending to listen to lectures. The pain ebbed after the late afternoon, and I decided to take a long bath in the rose scented bubble bath I'd received for Christmas. Before lowering myself into the hot, glistening foam, I stared at myself in the mirror.
My face seemed more pallid, my eyes ringed in a light shade of pink. My hair hung in limp waves, ready to be washed. The continuous bouts of pain were taking their toll on my appearance, and I winced, patting my cheeks to bring some color to them. It barely worked. I squinted, focusing on my pupils. They were the same hazel as my mothers, but now they almost looked muddy and shadowed. I looked away and got into the tub. No point in wasting time on vanity. The only thing I wore was the necklace Jace had given me, it's cool weight a mild comfort even with our silence to each other. My anger at him had slowly transformed into a simmering hurt that was hard to ignore.
He was still Jace, the slightly niave but strong alien I had mentored. I tried to look back on our conversations for anything I had taught him on the subject of relationships. It bit into my pride that I found nothing, and that really, I was probably to blame for the shortcomings. I leaned my head back, soaking in the essential oil and velvety water. The smell was intoxicating, and I relished that I would smell like it. Thoughts of garden walks and sunny summer day walks filled my imagination. A much nicer turn of mood to the alternative; for a few moments, I thought of myself as a bundle of petals, wrapping in on one another until the swirl of them made it into endless layers.
My eyes creaked open by a sliver, but flew open when an unexpected feeling coiled around my intestines. Dread and foreboding made the bathwater feel cold and desolate. Orange and pink rays of sunset beamed in through the high window by the toilet, the only sign of warmth in the room. Something was going to happen, I knew it. The knowledge gripped the back of my neck like a vise. Unyielding. This was the worst feeling. I found that my right hand had crept up to cup my throat, an unconscious attempt to comfort myself I guessed. The feeling slowly eased off, but my muscles continued to clench with tension.
Ruined, I ended my bath early and toweled off. It was almost time to open presents. My pj's were a welcome touch on my skin as I made it down the groaning stairs and found my parents in the living room. They looked up and in unison, crowed "Happy Birthday!" and shoved three presents at me. I crooked a smile at them, plopping down on the ottoman.
First was a ring; the little velvet box revealed itself as I tore off the tissue paper patterned in little balloons. Flipping up the upper half, I saw that it was a large... I had to study it, and then looked up at my mom, questioning.
"It's dragon veins agate," she supplied.
It's dark blue shade shifted in a marbled mirage of color: turquoise, cerulean, shell pink, the deepest green... It was beautiful. The band was either silver or platinum. It fit perfectly on my ring finger.
"Thanks, Mom. It's great." I smiled at her. She nodded. Next was an essential oil diffuser. That would go in my room, where I could fill the space with rose or jasmine. My dad watched closely, so I knew it was from him and said it was going to be handy. Satisfied, he leaned back in his recliner.
"That one is from Jace," my mom commented. I thought I saw her shoot my dad a furtive glance, but he was looking at the silenced screen of the tv. "He stopped by earlier and dropped it off."
I tried to hide my expression by turning the little package over and over in my hands. It was about the size of a grapefruit, a little heavy and rattly when I shook it. I began to tear off the wrapping paper.
"David, could you make me a Bloody Mary?" my mother asked sweetly.
"Huh? Oh yeah, sure." My dad got up, bones cracking, and left the room while continuing to watch the sport that played out. I cocked a brow at her, but she smiled innocently.
"Okay then," I mumbled, continuing to take the paper off. Under was a stone box, carved with small swirls of flowers that crept up its' sides, the soft grooves gleaming with an ivory gloss. It was breathtaking. I looked at my mom, wondering if I should open it in front of her, but chose that, yes, she was my mom. I could trust her in all this, even if she had been hiding this vital information all Riley's and my lives. I lifted the lid and set it to the side.
Inside was a hollow glass ball pillowed in tufts of multi-colored flower petals. The ball was plain and light, like a Christmas ornament, clear as the cleanest water. Why would he give me a ball? I gently lifted it out, my fingers brushing the silky cushioning. My eyes lingered on a particularly blue, heart shaped petal at the center. The fragrance that clung to my fingertips was so sweet that I couldn't help but stare at the glistening residue. My mother sucked in a soft breath from across the ottoman, her gaze on the box. A hand had gone to her mouth, covering it.
"I don't know why he gave me a ball," I blurted. I held it up so that I could look through it, little shards of light refracting inside.
"It's a Conjuring Sphere," she whispered. I looked at her sharply. Her eyes went to the door of the kitchen, then waved her hands in a downward motion. "Put it away before he comes back."
I did as she said without asking questions. A second later, Dad walked in with two red-filled cups. The celery stalks leaned on the rims as ice rattled the glasses.
"What was the last present?" he asked, sitting down.
I shrugged. "This box. It's nice." Better to keep it noncommittal.
He mimicked my shrug and only glanced to where it rested by the other presents. My eyes flickered to my mom's face once more before I thanked them for the goodies and went back to my room.