TWO MONTHS LATER
"Corey, what is this?!" Charlie hollered from the kitchen. The sound of her angry was never a good sign, and at 7:00 in the morning, that was much worse. I tossed a little in my bed, smothering my head with a pillow to try and block out the conversation but it did no good.
"My breakfast." Corey retorted. I heard his muffled footsteps bound down the stairs.
"No it is not. You can't have pasta for breakfast."
"I can and I will."
"Not if I say otherwise."
"So picky." Corey and Charlie's voices had gotten quieter once they had both gotten into the same room downstairs. There was no talking now, though, just giggles and shrieks which I assumed ment Corey was chasing down my sister or tickling her to death. Sometimes it seemed like I was the older sibling. However, it occurs to me then that I haven't heard Charlie's voice in nearly a month. She must be back.
After that affair, I was too awake to go back to sleep despite my best efforts. That and I was ready to go greet my sister. So, I flung my blanket off and slowly got up to stretch my legs.
"Blake, wake up." I groaned, nudging his head with my foot. I heard him roll over in the mess of blankets at the foot of my bed as I started walking to the bathroom.
"What time is it?" He questioned, moving to sit on the floor, one hand ruffling his dishevled black hair.
"Seven. But we have work to do." I informed him, picking up a pillow I had knocked on the floor in the night and tossing it at him. He batted at it feebly but ultimently let it strike him right in the face before groaning in complaint.
"Aw, quit whining, you big baby." I said, shutting myself in the bathroom, a fresh pair of clothes in hand.
When I finished brushing my teeth, tieing up my hair, and changing into a pair of jean shorts and a white teeshirt, I left the bathroom, grabbing my sunglass on the way out.
"Corey said they arrive today, right?" Blake had asked, I had caught him right as he was tugging a fresh shirt over his head.
"Yep. Everything starts today." I said with a heavy sigh, tucking the front of my shirt into my pants infront of the mirror. Blake came up behind me and put an arm around my shoulders.
"Go get 'em, love." He said, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. I smiled at him in the mirror and slipped my sunglasses on.
I leave my room with Blake right behind me. We'd spent the past weeks getting everything in Charlie and I's house prepared for this day. We'd been ready for this since the end of Febuary, now with the middle of March finally here, our new trainees are ariving.
Will suddenly burst forth from the guest room where he had been staying with Taylor for the past two months and ran right into Blake. He was flung back against the hallway wall by some invisible force and held there, face squished against the drywall.
"Out of my way, Heron!" Taylor yelled, hand outstretched in using her variation to keep Blake still.
"Get back here, you jerk!" Taylor screams at Will who is bounding down the stairs, waving what looks like a piece of black cloth over his head.
Taylor releases her hold on Blake and he falls a few inches until his feet land on the ground. He sags against the wall and rubs his throat.
"Take it easy on the kid, we can't have any disasters yet." Blake says to her. Taylor aknowledges him with only a lazy eye roll with her eyes landing on me.
"I would love to stay and chat but unfortunatly the pest has thought it funny to steal my bra and that issue must be dealt with immediatly." I give her a wink and she brushes past me, hands swatting at the air and throwing gusts of wind in Will's direction.
Blake and I join Charlie and Corey in the kitchen, my eyes searching for my sister and my legs running to her as soon as I can.
"I missed you!" I say, buring my face in her neck.
"Morning to you too, Mo!" She says with a laugh and lets me go. She smells clean, like washed bed sheets and wildflowers and her hair is curled and clipped back away from her face. She's wearing short cargo pants and a green tank top with the necklace that harbors our house key dangling around her neck. I wondered if she kept it on the entire time she was away.
"So how was New York?" I asked as Blake sat down at the table and I circled behind my him to grab the milk from the fridge. Charlie is leaning back against the counter by the sink while Corey moves over to Blake and sits across from him. The two of them didn't exactly click at first but now they seemed like the best of friends.
"Well enough, I suppose." Charlie responds, spooning a bite of cereal into her mouth from the bowl that she holds.
I pour myself a glass and then replace the milk, leaning back against the fridge while I talk.
"Is Mark gonna stay with us?" I ask her. Charlie had volunteered to take Mark to Florida earlier so he could go back home to his parents but he hadn't wanted to. He said it was his parents who sold him out to the government and got him sent to the zone in the first place. I didn't understand how a parent could do that to their own child but Mark had seemed awfully hurt when he tried to explain there really was nothing at his old home that he missed, nothing he wanted back. So after a few failed attempts at convincing him otherwise, Charlie had given up talking about it. Mark would live with us, in our house, if he had no where else to go.
Charlie had wanted to make sure there was absolutley nothing she could do for him so she had asked if he had anything he needed, and as it turns out, the boy did need something. He had learned from the time he'd spent with his old friend Ben back at the zone, the one who had died saving Blake's life, so I was told, lived in Brooklyn New York. Mark felt it was his obligation to tell Ben's family what had happened to their son and perhaps stay with them if they needed anything to help cope with the loss.
None of us here at the house knew when the two of them would be getting back, they did have to track down Ben's family which I imagine wasn't easy and we had no idea if Mark was even going to come back.
Charlie let out a small half smile as she stirred her cearal.
"He decided to join us. Ben's father and sister seemed to have handled the news pretty well. I guess they new more about the zone than Mark had thought or they were somehow wrapped up in it too. Ben's dad had been the one to convince us to leave, when Mark told him all about what we were planning, he said he didn't want to stop Mark from being a part of it." Charlie finished her statement the same time she took her last bite of cearal and set the bowl in the sink.
"Is he in his room?" I asked and Charlie nodded.
"He said he'd be down before the trainees get here. Which looks like we made it back just in time, then." She says. I agree with her outloud but my eyes are focused on the two boys sitting at the table. Blake is moving his hands like how a fortune teller rubs their crystal ball except theres a wire napkin holder beneath his hands instead. Corey watches him intently but I can barely see the metal under Blake's hands. Then, after a few moments, he lifts them, revealing his work.
but before I can make anything out, Charlie steps to the side and blocks my vision.
"Here, I'll take that." She says, reaching out a hand. It takes me a little to long to realize she's reaching out for my empty milk cup, I give it to her and when she moves again, I see Blake and Corey but whatever Blake had done, the evidence of his work, is gone. The two of them exchange a look and Blake's eyes find mine. He offers a slight smile and I return it but I'm still slightly skeptical.
Thirty minuets or so later, a victorious Taylor, grouchy Will, tired Bethany and semi-out of it Mark join us for breakfast which I down faster than I ever had before. I'm eager to get on with the day, to talk to my parents and Grandpa Joe about what exactly is going down today.
I put my dishes in the sink and head over to the door that leads to the basement, making sure no one else is following me, I want to talk to them by myself.
I switch on the light to the staircase and start heading down, reaching the basement and feeling the cold air tickle the hair on the back of my neck. I find one last light switch and the darkness lights up.
When I lived here for the first 13 years of my life, I had always associated the basement with a hot mess because thats what it was. The unfinished concrete floors and wooden walls with bright red support beams in the middle of the space. There was junk everywhere, trashbags full of broken bottles, old childrens toys, clothes we had ment to donate but were lost along the way, Daisy's old pet carrier from when she was a puppy, a few miscellaneous sporting gear and endless amounts of Charlie's old paint and drawing sets. There had been a path cleared through the disaster of a basement so I could make my way to where I really did need to go. I picked through it, stepping on a squeaky toy that scared the living daylights out of me along the way, but nevertheless I made it to the other side.
There was a door here, one I could barely open with how much stuff was in the way, and there was a little square pannel of black glass on the wall next to it.
I was still not used to the whole idea that this little pannel, one that had been here and on this wall my entire life, opened up a whole new realm to my house. I had always thought it was just more of the junk or some weird decoration my mother had bought to try and make the place look a little less like a warzone.
I pressed my palm flat against it and nearly flinched as the space where my hand touched on the pannel began to glow blue. I moved away from it and was left staring at my blue handprint which was now fading into a dark purple. Soon the entire print was purple and then, all at once, it vanished and the black glass was once again black glass.
A few seconds later I heard a loud click and reached for the doorknob, pulling open the now unlocked door and sucking in a deep breath.
"Mom? Dad?" I called as the door swung open as far as I could make it go. Light streamed in from the other side and as I walked in, I felt a rush of warm air greet me.
I took a step, just one step, onto the pristine white marble floor and was immediatly met with a sharp, "Imogen! Shoes off!" From my mom. I paused for a moment and then kicked off my converse I had slipped on earlier and they landed just outside the door, which I shut once I was far enough inside.
The room I entered was small, almost to the point of being cramped, but the white flooring, white walls, white table and chairs, white shades over the bright white lights, and the white clothes my parents were wearing made the place seem bigger than it was.
"Imogen, have a seat!" My dad said from the head of the one long table that sat in the center of the room, taking up most of the space. I did what he said and took a seat at his right while my mom was at his left and across from me.
"Having a fine morning? Did you get breakfast already?" My mom inquired as I propped my elbows up on the table.
"Yeah, everyone else did too." I inform her, glad to once again be confronted with my mother in her own skin. The mother I used to know that would kiss my scrapes and sing me to sleep. But she was mixed with something else now, a kind of quality I saw often in Charlie. Determination, I think it is. But it's not just soley that, it's almost like she's proud that she's determined and I know now what for.
"Did you need something, dear?" My mom asks, looking over at me with deeo concern. I was so grateful when Corey, bless his soul, fixed up my parents, mended their broken minds. His variation, to heal the wounded, had been the first one my Grandpa was deeply interested in. They spent hours straight, days even, working on improvong his ability and taking it to new heights just to see if he could fix the trauma my parents had suffered. Thankfully, he had been able to after only a few weeks. We'd called up Charlie while she was away and she'd talked to mom and dad for hours after they'd been brought back to normal and remembered who they were.
I couldn't believe my entire family was back together now and it almost felt too good to be true.
"Not really, I'm just a little nervous for today, thats all. I was wondering if you could help me through what I'm supposed to do." I told them, my eyes scanning the room for something to look at but there really was nothing, just white space everywhere. My dad let out a laugh that came from deep in his gut.
"Girl, you survived three years in the worst place on Earth, took down the zone, were shot and dead and then brought back to life, hiked your butt all the way here with only a few other people and your saying your nervous for this?" He exclaimed. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair.
"So?" I asked, feeling an awfully lot like a stereotypical bratty teenager who's life revolved around makeup, clothes and boys as I did so. My defensive tone caught my parents off guard too, judging by the looks on their faces.
"So, theres nothing you need to worry about. There's only twenty coming and all you have to do is show them how this works." My dad said before my mom could intervene and scold me for my attitude.
"But thats the thing, I don't know how this works." I told them, my frustration growing. Why did this have to be so hard?
"Here, we'll start from the beginning." My mom says, sounding her words out like she was talking to a two year old. I decide not to react and let her contine.
"The people coming are all ages ten through 18, the ages of the variated kids at the zone, which as you should know, all these kids are variated as well. There parents discovered the variation in their child, did their research and found out how to contact Order, which we are partnered with." My mom says, pausing here as if to see I'm still keeping up. I nod for her to continue.
"Order, while they are sort of like an off the grid police force, they are made up of variated people, that much you know. They feel obligated to help us out by paying for everything we need and providing us with variated people who don't want to join their ranks but would like to control what they can do. Once we get them, which is today, they stay here and in Corey's house while we train them during the day. They get to go home whenever they feel like they've mastered their ability and we feel that they will use it responsibly." My mom finishes the backstory part, all of which I already knew, before I make a gesture for her to go on and tell me about what to do with the kids.
"Today, all we do is get them settled and aquainted with eachother. It should be a piece of cake since were letting you decide how exactly you'll go about that. You and Blake get a group of kids to welcome, Corey and Charlie get a group and Taylor and Mark get a group. Bethany and Will are too young so they'll be running around doing whatever unless they want to join in lessons and stuff." She finishes. I nod and thank her for the explanation, finding my palms still sweating from my nerves. I get ready to leave when both my parents stand up, my dad pulling me in for a hug.
"You'll do great honey." He assures me. He lets me go and then my mom takes my hands in hers and looks me in the eyes.
"Your the leader, so don't be afraid to take charge." With that she pats my shoulder and I'm sent on my way just as Grandpa Joe passes me through the doorway back into the basement.
"Fancy seeing you here, dear." He says with a smile and a mimed tip of his imaginary hat. I chuckle and walk out as he walks in, shutting the door behind him. I remain still for a while, preparing myself to go back upstairs. I know that the trainees are supposed to arrive any minuet now but for some reason I can't make my legs move.
I eventually manage to, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other until I reach the top of the stairs.
"Imogen, can Will room with you and Blake. I can't stand him any longer." Taylor says almost as soon as I set foot back on the main level of the house. Taylor is breathless in front of me, looking at me with eyes that belong to DMV employees and serial killers, wild and deadly.
"Sorry we all have to make sacrifices. Besides, Will's adorable." I tell her. Just then, the blonde headed boy in question runs past us and behind Taylor in a blur, laughing and panting at the same time, Taylor's bra still in his hands.
"I can't take this anymore." She groans, rubbing her face with her hands. Will must be running circles around the house because he reaches us again, although this time he doesn't get very far. Taylor holds up her right hand and Will falls flat on his butt, looking for all the world like he just ran face first into a brick wall. I glare at Taylor for being so harsh but she returns it with a defiant look of protest instead.
"I tried so hard to be nice, but this kid pushes even more buttons than I have and it was time someone put him in his place before I go insane." She argues, leaving me be and walking over to Will, her hand still up, holding him with her comanded air against the ground as he squirms beneath it.
"Give it back." Taylor orders, bending down to take the piece of clothing from him. But Will flashes her the biggest grin you've ever seen and in a poof of gold and silver light, he's gone. Taylor lets out a sound of anguish and frustration before sinking to the floor.
"Why me?" She asks to the sky. I pity her but I'll admit that I laughed and rolled my eyes before walking on past her and nearly running into Corey in the living room.
"Hey, whats up with you?" I ask, noticing he's not exactl watching where he's going and he seems pretty determined to get somewhere.
"Nothing." He says, trying to steer past me. I sidestep and block his path.
"Don't give me that. Spill." I say, looking him up and down as if searching for clues. Corey groans but gives in anyways.
"Your sister won't talk to me and we have nothing planned for when the trainees get here and it's just a big hassle trying to get everything together, running back and forth from here to my house all day." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. I purse my lips and consider this. It's not like Charlie to just run off and do her own thing. She likes to be in charge, and she's good at it too. Something was off here.
"I'll find her, talk some sense into her. But Corey,". I add, just as he's about to walk away again. I wait to continue speaking until he's looked me in the eyes. "You'll be fine. There's nothing to it, alright? As long as you act like you know what your doing, they'll believe you. Fake it till you make it, right?" I say, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Corey spares me a smile but I can tell his heart isn't in it. I watch him for a moment, studying his face and how tired he looks before moving out of his way and waving him on.
"Thanks, Imogen." He says just before he bolts past me to who knows where.
I don't turn to face him when I call out one last time, figuring it's time I say something.
"Hey Corey?" I say and I hear him stop behind me.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for keeping me in the land of the living back at the zone. I- I wouldn't be here without you." I finish, finding my voice choking up. What Corey did, I am forever in debt to him for it. I was ashamed a simple thank you was all I could offer in return.
"Imogen, your like the little sister I never had and I"d do anything for family." I feel myself start to smile and I turn around just in time to watch him turn the corner and vanish from sight.
As I stand there, still for only a second, I feel a light tap on my shoulder. It was so sudden that it spooked me a little and I turn around with a little jump.
"Hey girl, can I talk to you for a moment?" It's Charlie. She's wearing the expression of a lost puppy, her big dark eyes round and full, her face uncharacteristically downcast.
"I need to talk to you too." I tell her and she makes her way to the stairs. I follow her up and soon we end up in her room. We haven't had a full on girl-to-girl talk in a long time, with her being away for most of the time we've been back home together.
"Did Corey do something to you?" I ask her, thinking of my encounter with him and wondering if Charlie had been avoiding him because of something he'd done without realizing. Turns out, I was partly right.
"No, he didn't do anything." She says with a sigh as she plops down on her bed. I shut the door and then pull out her desk chair so I can sit in it and face her.
"Then you should really go talk to him, he's kind of freaked out. The trainees are coming today, you know." I inform her although I'm confident she already knows. She nods to prove my point.
"I know, I know, it's just, things are so different now, it's taking me awhile to adjust." She says, pinching the bridge of her nose. I guess I hadn't really considered what things must be like from Charlie's perspective. Three years of searching for a sister you had no trace of and then all of a sudden she's back and your expected to teach kids how to use powers you can't even fathom. I almost forget sometimes that Charlie doesn't have a variation and now I wonder how this training will involve her.
"Mark and I, we got back late last night but Grandpa Joe was still up, in the kitchen cooking oatmeal in a navy robe." She continues after a moment. I lean foreward and rest my elbows on my knees and prop my face up with my fists.
"He greeted us, sent an emotionally exhasted Mark to bed, and then chatted with just me for awhile and well, he told me a few things that he might not have ment to let slip." She says, her words loosing volume and strength as she goes on.
"Like what?" I ask, very interested. Charlie glances at the door as if to make sure no one's going to come bursting through it before looking back at me.
"He told me that when we moved here, to Colby I mean. You weren't even born yet and I was only three, he was already working with Order." She said, watching me closely for a reaction.
"Wait. Grandpa Joe worked for Order?" I ask and she nods. I decide to let her continue before I ask anymore questions.
"I guess he thought I recieved his variated gene so he hired a close friend from Order Darla Buller, to scout me. And I think to scout someone in their terms is to look out for variated kids in their ignorance and ensure their saftey from the zone or private kidnappers who want to sell them or use them for their abilities." Charlie takes a second to grab a pillow off her bed and hug it tight to her chest.
"Darla Buller, a.k.a. Corey's mom, was my scout, sent to live as close to us as possible, a.k.a. Corey's current house. When you came around and Darla was off the hook because it was discovered I didn't have a variation, Corey was old enough to join Order's ranks but not quite young enough to click with you and become your best friend. So they tasked him with becoming friends with me so he could easily look after you. Mo, I feel like all these years, when I've thought he was my only friend, I feel like he's always been using me for his job. Why didn'y he just tell me? Does he even think I'm a decent enough person?" She looks up at me from where she was staring at the floor and her face can only be discribed as helpless.
"Hey now, don't get all sappy on me. You have to be on your A-game today." I say when I notice her eyes are brimming with the beginnings of tears. When she doesn't respond, just wipes at her eyes in a sort of hasty frustration, I decide to add something else.
"Corey is a great guy, Char. I know you love him, that is no secret at all to be honest, I can see it in your eyes." Charlie scowls at me with a look that makes me realize I'm not really helping but I wave it off. I'm not finished yet.
"But you know what else I see." I say, leaning back in my chair with a knowing smile.
"I see the way he looks at you when you've got your head turned or the way his eyes light up whenever he hears your name. Charlie, you've got a superpower of your own and thats making this boy weak in the knees just by breathing. Don't you worry about him. He might have met you with a different end in mind but you can't change the story fate has written." I finish, proud that I see Charlie visibly start to leave her funk.
"You should probably go help him out, he's running around down there like a chicken with it's head cut off. Practically lost without you." I tell her, standing as she does.
We both leave her room and Charlie flies down the stairs ahead of me, presumably to go find Corey and patch things up while I hang around at the bottem of the stairs.
"Imogen! Daisy got a squirrel!" Bethany yells. The little girls voice rings out from somewhere nearby put I can't pinpoint where until she yells again.
"IMOGEN!"
"Coming, I'm coming." I respond, realizing she's just outside the front door which I race to in seconds and find myself standing on the front porch.
Bethany is standing right next to the door staring wide eyed and pointing at a bloody mess of guts and fur, my innocent little puppy standing over it looking so proud and high up. She wants applause but it hasn't come yet so of course, she insists on waiting for it.
I run at her suddenly, scaring her just enough so she takes off a few steps down the gravel driveway away from the mutilated squirrel.
"Bethany, could you please clean this up, I've got so much to do." I tell her, no it was more of a beg. I begged her to clean it. She looked at me like I was insane.
"Um no. I'm not touching that." She says, with enough sass to startle me.
"fine. Then your staying out here and keeping me company while I do it. Get me a trash bag, paper towles and a garden shovel from the garage." I order her. She groans a little but after seeing the look I give, rushes inside and soon returns with everything I asked for.
I kneel beside the mess and try to breathe through my mouth as I begin scooping whats left of the poor creature into the trash bag.
"So Will never told me how he got you here so fast." I say, trying to take my mind off the stentch and the idea of the task I'm actually completing.
"When you all drove through Nebraska, he teleported right into the Order base, scooped me up, and teleported me into the way, way back of your car, right next to that Mark kid. He wasn't much fun. Didn't say a word the entire drive. Will smuggled me in with Mark's help when we got back here. They wanted it to be a surprise when I came down the stairs." She explains. I nod, listening as closely as I can.
"Simple enough, I suppose." I say, scooping the last bit of gore up and throwing it in the bag before tying it up and standing. I teasingly swing the bag in front of Bethany who recoils in horror. I laugh maniacally and then walk down the driveway to drop the bag in the big trash can at the end of it to wait for the trashman to get a nast surprise. I come back up and find that Bethany is staring hard at the spot of blood that remains on the porch still. Her entire demeanor has changed, now she's sullen and grim, brow furrowed and eyes half shut.
"Blake told me what happened to Alice." She says in her southern whisper. I imagine myself in Bethany's shoes for a moment, having my older sister entirly betray me to do something that would harm everyone myself or her ever cared about and would only benifit her sick opinion. And then without a goodbye, to come to such a terrible death. It was the tradgedy of all tradgedies and I hated that little Bethany was only 12, so much of her youth remained and it had been thrown all away by a sister she had once looked up to and then had turned into a monster.
I can't say much at this point, there's nothing I can think of, everyone else in the house having already eaten up all my wise words. But Bethany doesn't seem to care, she just keeps talking.
"I hate to say it, but I thought I hated you at one point, Imogen. When I first met you. I think it was because you had mentioned to me once that you had a sister and the way you talked about her made me so jealous. Because I knew what my sister was planning and I knew that I had once talked about her the way you talk about Charlotte. But now I'm ashamed we even share the same blood. Or shared, I guess." I want to say something but I physically can't make my mouth move. Bethany doesn't look up as she turns around and in an instant she's gone, back inside the house to probably find Will and tease Taylor some more. Bethany and Will were quite the pair, double trouble if you will. It would be interesting to see how much havoc they manage to wreak over the years to come.
I need a moment now, to catch my breath and recharge for as long as I can. But my breif vacation from my responsibilites ends all too soon as I hear the door open behind me.
"Imogen?" The voice is hesitant and low, and I know it's Mark. I can't help but groan in irritation as I turn around to meet him. He seems to be taken aback by my noise but regains himself quickly.
"Sorry, I just um, I wanted to ask you something." He says, eyes darting back and fourth like he doesn't quite know what he's doing out here.
"What's up?" I ask, stepping a little to the side so he can come out further onto the porch.
"Are Corey's parents going to help us out with our variation school or whatever?" He asks, it's a starter question, I can tell. He already knows the answer but he needs a baises, something to build off of for his real inquiry.
"Yep. They worked for Order previously so they already know how the whole thing works. They'll help head it with my parents and my Grandpa." I tell him. The whole time I speak he seems rather absent minded, looking off at something in the distance that I can't see.
"Are Bethany's parents just deserting her, then?" He asks, still just barely scraping the surface of the final point he has yet to make.
"Well no, Corey contacted them and let them know the situation. Her parents are staying in the Order base in Omaha but they'll come visit every now and then, they'll trust we'll take good care of Bethany." I inform him and he finally decides to look at me.
"And you already said your parents are overseeing our operations, and Will was an orphan so he has no family to go back to so I imagine he thinks this life is an improvement, and then theres Taylor..." He says, trailing off and looking away once more when he says Taylor's name.
"What are you getting at, Mark?" I ask him, shoving my thumbs in the pockets of my shorts.
"Well, I guess, she doesn't say much about her past and when I try and ask her about it, she turns away and changes the subject. I'm just worried about her, thats all." Mark says with a heavy sigh at the end as though he's been waiting his whole life to finally let that out.
"And I don't even know why I'm telling you this," He continues before I can say anything. "I know your so busy and probably won't be able to do anything about it but I needed to tell someone and no one else seems like they would even listen. But I knew you would, you just seem like that kind of person." When he finishes he seems a little more angry than flustered like he looked when he'd first come out here.
I begin to feel something like guilt low in my gut. I've had so much on plate, so many things to do, that I had pushed the needs of my best friend to the back of my mind. I had been meaning to ask Taylor if she wanted to go home, wherever home was for her, but my to do list just kept getting longer and longer and my responsibilities started to pile up that she'd gotten lost beneath it all.
"Thanks for telling me Mark, I'll talk to her about it, I promise." I assure him. He lets a small smile slip and then we agree to head back inside. But we don't get more than one step back towards the house when I hear the familiar crunching and grinding of gravel somewhere in the distance. I turn around back to the driveway and I look down the road.
The first thing I see is a plume of dust rounding the corner, then a black mass is shown in spots through the grey cloud. There's actually four of them, four black vans rolling down the road getting closer and closer.
As soon as they pull up the driveway I tap Mark on the shoulder and tell him to go get everyone and bring them outside, to tell them that our company has arrived. He nods and rushes inside, the door banging shut behing him.
The cars roll to a stop in two orderly rows on our driveway, two in the front and two in the back. I stay on the porch, sliding my sunglass up onto the top of my head to hold back my hair and crossing my arms. I watch the vehicles closely, finding the windows are tinted so I can't see inside except for through the windsheild which only gives me a faint view of the drivers and the people sitting in the passenger seats.
They start to unload, adult drivers out first and then after opening the back doors, the trainees we've been waiting for begin to pile out.
"Imogen Vast?" One of the drivers questions, coming up the steps to greet me with a handshake on the porch. I shake her hand and find that she's awfully young, maybe late twenties, with her golden blonde hair and eyes a dark enough brown to be black.
"That's me, and you are?" I ask her, finding that I can't help but peer over her shoulder and watch the kids, looking as lost as ever, pool in little clusters of friends as they are handed their luggage.
"Olivia Butler, I'm the director of variated kids transportation. May I first say how much I admire your bravery in taking control of something so beyond what most people care to understand and at such a young age too. It's truly remarkable." I thank her for the compliment and she seems to notice that I have more intrest in moving along with the day than I do with idle chit chat as she moves over a little so I can better see the kids huddled together in the driveway.
"And these, Ms. Vast, are your students." She says, extending a arm outward and gesturing to them. The last of the kids claim their suitcases and bags while others gaze around at their surroundings.
I notice two girls, both around Charlie's age, perhaps a bit younger, who stand side by side, one girl with brown hair has her arm draped around the other smaller girls shoulders. The small one has dark red hair, clearly died, but she seems to be laughing, as does the freckle faced brown haired one. They look like the most cheery pair, like the only ones who show any emotion in being here.
"Hey, everybody." I call out, grabbing their attention. Faces of all ages look up at me, eyes wide and expectant, mouths closed and ears open. I wonder how much they know, how much they want to know, where they've come from, if they even know who I am.
"My name is Imogen Vast, and for some of you, this is your new home for the next few months or years or however long it takes you to become experts with your abilities. For others of you, you'll be living down the street, but don't worry about being seperated you'll meet up every day." I tell them, my eyes having trouble picking out where to look. I always hated oral presentations, or presentations of any kind in school, but this was a whole new level of terror. This was a first impression, these kids view on me would forever be tainted by however I came off to them in this moment, so I had to make it count.
"Anyway, our goal is to make sure you have fun here, think of it like an extended summer camp. But much much cooler because you get to be learning how to become a superhero the entire time." I earn a smile from the two girls in the front and a few other kids in the group but most of them still look on with wonder and intrest, yearning only for facts.
Just then, the rest of the people from the house start to file out, Corey, then Charlie, and Taylor with Mark right behind, Then Bethany and Will side by side, Then Blake and my parents followed lastly by Grandpa Joe. They all don't fit on the porch so I find Blake and together with Taylor, the three of us move onto the driveway so we're level with the rest of the kids.
"This is our crew," I say, referring to the people who just joined us.
"It's disfunctional, unorginized to say the least, and more than a little chaotic, but we're a family. And in a family, we all love and stick up for each other. And just like any family, this one is forever growing and changing. We hope to make each of you part of it because I know that theres a special spot for all of you. So lets say we get started on this big adventure, shall we?" I finishe my speech and am met with only silence. I turn to Taylor who shrugs and then to Blake who is watching the kids intently.
"Well?" He says, captivating the groups eyes. "Are you ready or aren't you?" He hollars. We are met with a response starting with the redhead in the front who pumps her fist in the air with a mighty "Yeah!" Which her friend repeats. Then, the rest of the group follows suit with enthusiastic agreement.
"This is going to be so much fun." Taylor says, smiling as she watches the kids start to burst into a frenzy of undecipherable chatter amongst themselves.
I turn to her, watching her blue eyes light up at the sight of them interacting like the kids they're supposed to be.
"Hey, Taylor. I've been meaning to ask you, would you like to go back home sometime?" I ask her, wondering if maybe this isn't the best time, but I can't help it. I don't want to forget again.
Taylor looks at me, her smile hasn't changed and her eyes are still laughing all the same.
"This is my home, Imogen. End of story, beginning of everything imaginable that comes after." She tells me. I grin back at her. If thats what she wants, so be it. If its what makes her happy, then it makes me happy just the same.
I dwell a little longer on what she said, word for word. A statement I can relate to now more than ever because of how much has changed.
"End of story, beginning of everything imaginable that comes after."
The last page of a book is never the end. Yes, the words have stopped, the back cover has closed, but theres so much more left to be discovered in your own mind. Once the author decides they're done writing dialouge, it doesn't mean the characters stop talking in your head. It doesn't mean new scenes aren't created and new drama never unfolds.
When the author runs out of words to say, its up to you to fill in the gaps, to add to the story. Never assume its over when "The End" is written in caligraphy at the bottem of the page. Personally, I feel they should stop writing "The End" because its obviously not. What they should write is, "Your Turn". Its your turn to write the story, its your turn to dream and create and discover. Its your turn to go on adventures and unfold mysteries of legends and secrets left untold. Its your turn to flip the world upside down, how you go about that? Well, its your turn to decide.
Charlie leads everyone inside to go sort out the groups I'm sure, but my mind is on other things. Blake turns to follow everyone else, which would leave me alone outside, but I can't have that.
I grab his wrist and pull him out in front of me. I let cupids arrow hit me hard after I'd dodged it for so long. Blake flashes me a crooked smile almost like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
I put my hands on his shoulders and push myself up on my tip toes so I'm looking him right in those deep oceanic eyes. Thats the moment I realized, when our lips touched, that all I had wanted these last two months, was him.
And I realized, by the way he kissed me back, that all this time he had been waiting for me to realize that. He'd always wanted me, and now I was his just as much as I had claimed him as mine.
Mine. He was mine. And I kissed him like it.
WOW OK LAST CHAPTER I CANT BELIEVE IT!!! THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO'S STUCK WITH ME AND THIS STORY FOR SO LONG. IT REALLY DOES MEAN THE WORLD TO ME AND JUST SO YOU KNOW THERE WILL BE A BIG SAPPY LETTER ON MY MESSAGE BOARD SO CHECK THAT OUT IF YOU WANT THE THANK YOU YOU DESERVE!!!
(Epilogue is already up!)