Rose and Tommy packed away the last of the art supplies the kids had been using that day, and with only a week left in school, she was actually getting excited. She hadn't played much music all semester, but over the vacation, the school would be deserted. She and Tommy would be able to "jam," as he called it, as often as they wanted without interruption. She could play without fear of people watching or listening. And really, she had missed those instruments. Watching the elementary kids play made her long for the touch of the wood against her wrist, the metal strings making dents in her fingers, the ivory keys whispering clacks as they snapped back into place.
"Hey, Cali," Tommy nudged her elbow. He was covering his face with a reindeer mask made by Matty, the little boy who also stayed over vacation. Rose had loved watching Tommy and Matty last year--it showed her a different side of Tommy, and Matty was the sweetest boy.
She rolled her eyes in response, and continued cleaning.
"Come on, Blitzen, don't give poor old Rudolph the cold shoulder like that." He waggled the mask's glittery nose under hers.
"Rudolph was clearly a drunk, that red nose," she thunked its nose. "There's a reason he's being shunned," she murmured.
"Ouch."
"Ms. Regitano," the dean's voice called from behind them. "I need to speak with you."
What now? Rose was sure it was something to do with Grant. Or maybe Porsche?
But she was wrong.
Rose listened reticently as the dean explained that her guardian, Avery, wanted her to come home for Christmas. He was having a gathering at his home, and he wanted her there. Whitley handed Rose the slip containing the message, and Rose nodded blankly, turning back into the arts room.
"Cali? You okay?" Tommy rested his thick, veiny hand on her arm.
She shook her head, a return to silence, and handed him the note.
"Damn."
They lined up the students who went home every night and walked them down to the main hall to meet their parents. After the last kid was gone, Tommy wrapped his arms tight around her, breathing into her neck so that it tickled her hair. "It'll be all right. You'll see." She nodded though she didn't really believe it.
During finals the next week, the kids in seventh period had to display their art or perform their music just as Rose had last year in arts. But, strangely, the entire group grabbed instruments and sat down in the middle of the room. Rose shot Tommy a quizzical look, which he returned with his patented grin.
"Tommy said we might get you to talk if we did this song really well," said Honor, the precocious third grader who excelled in everything she tried in arts.
Rose laughed and shook her head, feeling her face flush red as they began to play bluesy, soulful music. She recognized it, an old song. Maybe Motown.
"These arms of mine," Honor's voice rasped out, the perfect tone and timbre for the song. "...They are lonely, lonely and feeling blue."
Some kids blew on their brass, trumpets and trombones. Tommy air-drummed next to Saul, the chubby kid with glasses who was beating time.
"And if you would let them hold you..."
Tommy sauntered over to Rose and held out his hand to her. She shook her head, laughing, but stood and placed her hand in his. He slid his other hand around her back and pulled her close as they danced around the circle of performing kids. Rose knew her face must have been roughly the color of a pickled beet, but thankfully the song wasn't very long.
Rose had to admit, the music was good, and they were just about the cutest things she had ever seen--kids 6, 7, 8 years old playing this song.
When they were done, Honor put her hands on her hips. "Well?"
"It was great," Rose wanted to say. It made no sense that she still couldn't speak, except when she and Tommy were alone. Just say it, she screamed in her mind. But instead, she gave them a thumbs up and a weak smile.
"That's it?" Honor demanded.
"All right, guys, you were awesome," Tommy cut in. He leaned down towards Honor and whispered, "Give the girl a break."
A break was exactly what Rose needed, and in just one more day, she would have it. But was it the break she wanted, really, given that she had to go back to Avery's?
««•»»
Maggie had been fussing around the dean's office for days now, not really doing anything at all. Twice, it seemed like she was going to speak to Alastair, and he looked at her expectantly, but she veered off in another direction. They hadn't spoken since she wished him a happy birthday. Today, she fiddled with the zipper on her bag. She was a tiny person, less than five feet tall, but she usually had a big personality, confident and strong. Now, she was a fraction of herself. Fractured. Fractal. He shook his head. The Amp had strange effects on his brain.
"Hey," she had snuck up on him in his verbal distraction.
"Hi," he replied, the surprise evident in his voice. "How you been?"
She frowned slightly, perhaps at his poor grammatical construction. "I've been all right. How are you?"
He was annoyed by her emphasis and the officious look on her face. "I'm fine. I told you, I'm done with all that."
"I'm just worried. Rose said she was worried about you, too. That you were skinny."
Rose said. Probably wrote. He smiled.
"I'm really okay, I promise," he rested his hand on her shoulder. "I've missed you like crazy."
"Oh, Al," she wrapped her arms around his waist, low and tight. "Me, too."
"Since when have I not been skinny?"
Maggie laughed. "Fair enough."
He pulled away before she could gauge just how thin he had really gotten. Too thin, he knew. It wasn't intentional. He just forgot to eat when he was Amping. At least with the old, original Amp. Now, that he had the new and improved, he ate three hearty meals a day again. But even at his heaviest, Alastair had always been a beanpole, long and lean.
"How's Melissa?"
Maggie frowned, and Alastair saw the cracks in her exterior resurfacing. "Oh, we're done. I mean, we're friends, I guess. But nothing more."
"I'm sorry, Maggs. I know you really liked her."
She shrugged and walked away, resting her chin on her shoulder to glance back at him. "I still do."
Sarah's face flashed in his mind. Yeah, he knew that feeling.
««•»»
For most students, the last Friday was reserved for the usual routine of checking grades and packing to go home. Last year, Rose had remained at school, with Tommy and the other "strays," as he called them. But this year Rose joined the crowds of kids heading home, packing a small duffle for her return to Avery's. She was nervous about going, wondering why she was expected there this year. Just what was she going home to?
In the main hall, Omar hugged Rose goodbye. "Have a great vacation!"
Rose squeezed tighter in response, the only response she had to offer. Ellie walked by and waved as her brother tugged on her arm to hurry her out to their cab, clearly annoyed with the delay. Then Alastair's friend Maggie passed by with her sister.
"See ya in January, Rose."
She's my friend, too, Rose thought, wondering where all these friends had come from suddenly. Rose waved and turned to check her grades--unexpectedly good considering she spent more time in the kitchen than in Grant's classes. His were all B minuses, but she'd take it. She scanned the crowd for Alastair, whom she had hardly seen all semester, and after his behavior lately, she had only grown more worried about him. Out of curiosity, she checked the senior classes for his name, but found he was only taking a couple of classes. He had a B in government, a B! But he had gotten an A in both arts and leadership. Maybe he really was okay. She let her hand linger on the page, finding Tommy's name just above Alastair's.
"Snoopin', Sherlock?" Tommy breathed into her ear.
She glanced around to find the crowd had thinned, leaving them virtually alone. "What's with all these good grades, Watson? I fancied you a slacker."
"You fancy me? I knew I'd win you over in time, Sherlock," he bumped her hip playfully. "But, hey, seriously, I wanted to apologize for what happened with the kids."
Rose frowned. "You don't have to. They really were incredible. I just--"
"I know." He stepped away, glancing at the large clock in the main hall. "Hey, I'll see ya, Cali."
With that, Rose headed out the doors and into a cab toward Avery's house. She shivered against the car door, not really cold. But not really okay either.
««•»»
Alastair stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked east a few blocks to catch the #4 train north. He had just dropped off his stuff at home, and left again, not even stopping to see if his mom was home. Buried way down, underneath the Amplification, he felt a twinge of remorse. But not enough to make him stop. He met up with Keira, Cesar, and Jonathan at Central Park twenty minutes later.
"What up, Al," Cesar said, slapping hands with him. "You ready?"
"You know it. But more importantly, are you ready?"
Cesar snorted, "Like a virgin on prom night." Keira cuffed him across the back of his head. "Hey, ow!"
"That's what you get for stupid clichés," she said. "Let's go."
They took turns swilling down the Amplification, which Alastair always brewed for them now, although he saved the long-acting for himself. Then they walked along the street and into the zoo.
"Hey," Cesar said. "Ok. Question. Let's say some guys mugged me, ya know, like, beat me up, and stole my Yugioh cards, would you guys back me up and get them back?"
"First of all," Keira answered, "there's a reason you're getting your ass kicked in this scenario. Yugioh cards? Really?"
Jonathan and Alastair laughed at the hurt look spreading across his face.
"And, for the record, you cannot use the cards to protect yourself from a mugger." Alastair mocked, "My level 47 monster attacks you!"
"There's no such thing as a level 47 monster," Cesar mumbled.
Keira chortled appreciatively. "Let's get this day going, already."
Alastair wasn't sure what the point was, but their plan was to Levitate the animals, mess with the patrons, and generally cause chaos. It started so benignly. The four of them rolled hysterically at the surprised faces of the visitors as their hats flew off and their drinks tipped over. They marveled at the swirling trash in the snack area. They gaped at the hovering form of a sea lion.
Then Keira poked Cesar in the stomach, which was not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to distract him. In that instant, his Consciousness was broken, his OM failed, and the huge creature crashed to the hard cement walkway outside the pen.
Alastair cringed at the sound coming from the injured animal and moved toward it.
"We gotta get out of here," Cesar tugged at his shirt, trying to pull him in the opposite direction. Keira and Jonathan had already taken off running.
"Hey! Stop!" Park officials, perhaps zookeepers, were heading straight for them, and the sea lion trainer was on his way to the fallen creature.
Cesar pulled again at Alastair's arm. "Come on, dude. We're gonna get busted."
Alastair pulled his arm free, "This wasn't part of the plan, Cesar. I can't just leave. It's hurt."
Cesar shook his head, then ran out of the park, leaving Alastair alone to face the consequences.
Alastair tried to go over and help the sea lion, but he was restrained by NYPD officers. "You're under arrest for animal cruelty, disturbing the peace, and attempted robbery. You have the right to remain silent..."
He went numb as handcuffs were clicked into place around his wrists. There was a pool of blood surrounding the grunting animal. Alastair felt angry tears stinging his eyes. He loved animals. He never meant for this to happen.
"I never meant for this to happen," he said hoarsely.
"Get him out of here," barked a burly cop.
Alastair was led to a small police substation in the park.
"Please don't call my mom," he implored.
"Kid, that's the only way you're getting out of here," said the officer, already dialing a number.
Alastair closed his eyes and leaned his head back, praying that somehow this was all a really bad dream, and not the screwed up reality he had allowed his life to become.
««•»»
That evening, Avery told Rose that his boss was coming around for dinner again. "Put on something nice. You look a mess," he said aggressively, pulling at the sleeve of her t-shirt. He patted her cheek as she nodded her understanding, the smell of his whiskey seeping from his skin. Rose went slowly back up the stairs. She was terrified. Terrified was an understatement. The last time she saw Mr. Hawkins, she ended up bloody and broken. It wasn't his fault, but he was a factor. She took her time changing, brushing her hair, and putting on the jewelry Dean Whitley had given her last year, as if that delay could somehow stop him from arriving. But, inevitably, she heard a knock at the front door.
When she stepped down into the dining room, where the stairs from the second floor let out, it was totally silent. She walked cautiously toward the front sitting room. Rose was shocked when she rounded the corner.
Tommy sat on her guardian's couch, dressed in a dark gray button-down shirt and untorn jeans, his knee bouncing at an unhealthy pace. He smiled when he saw her, his eyebrows raising in...what? Surprise? Appreciation? Rose blushed immediately.
"Your friend has asked if he can take you to hear music tonight, Rose." Avery placed his hand on her shoulder, and Rose could feel the chill of his skin through her knit cotton dress. "But, of course--"
"Avery, you here?" called Mr. Hawkins from the door.
"Oh, yes, in here," Avery scurried like a hamster for its food. "Sir, you remember my ward?"
"How could I forget? Rose, how is school?"
Rose nodded, shrugging uncomfortably. Tommy stood, which drew his attention.
"Ah, hello," Hawkins said, extending his hand. "Wait, is it? It is! Tommy Roarke! I was at your last hockey game." He shook Tommy's hand vigorously.
"Oh, yeah?" Tommy seemed surprised.
"Son, you were quite a star on the ice. Best I ever saw Whitman produce. Shame about the knee."
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Tommy grinned, patting his right knee awkwardly. "You went to Whitman?"
Hawkins held up his left hand, displaying an ostentatious ring. "Class of '71. Now, you'll be class of '15, if my memory is correct."
Tommy nodded.
"What brings you here tonight? You and young Rose here know each other from school?"
"Well, he, ah, came to invite her to a music concert, but of course it's quite impossible," Avery cut in.
"Why is that?" Hawkins challenged him.
"Well, our dinner, of cour--"
"Nonsense, the poor girl doesn't want to sit around listening to two old men. Besides we have business to discuss," Hawkins gestured at Tommy. "Off you go. Have fun."
Rose looked at Avery, who frowned but nodded. She stepped toward the door, and grabbed her coat, wanting to escape as fast as possible.
"That's the guy who was Bindin' you?" Tommy muttered as they got to the bottom of the stairs.
Rose continued walking but nodded.
"He's creepy." She nodded again.
As they turned onto 5th Avenue, Tommy stopped Rose. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned close. "Hey, I'm sorry if I got you in trouble. Let's have fun tonight, make it worth the trouble." His right hand twined up into Rose's hair, resting on the back of her neck for just a second before sliding across her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into his warmth.
««•»»
Alastair sat beside the officer's desk. It had been hours since he was taken in, hours since they had called his mother. For most of that time, he had been locked in a five-by-five cell, totally isolated. After several hours, he was let out by Officer Stone, who seemed like a pretty nice guy. He brought Alastair a soda and chips and assured him that it would be okay.
Sergeant DeRosa, on the other hand, was a hard-ass. "Damn junkie kids. How did you get that animal out of its pen?"
Alastair was exercising his right to remain silent.
DeRosa slammed his fist on the table, toppling the soda. "You killed that creature. Does that make you feel like a man?"
Alastair focused on the fizzing mess spreading across the desk and shook his head. Quite the opposite. Alastair felt like a foolish child, but he couldn't undo what had been done.
DeRosa threw a rag at him. "Clean it up."
"This way," murmured the much gentler voice of Officer Stone.
Alastair saw his mother, still in scrubs, walk into the station. He hung his head in shame.
"Thank you, Officer," she said tiredly. "Let's go, Alastair."
"Ma'am, did you know your son is using drugs?" DeRosa stepped in.
Leah Silver shot an angry glance at Alastair, who stood on the opposite side of the counter. He looked away, even though he knew she wouldn't see the Amp in his eyes.
"When is the court date?" she asked Stone, seeming to ignore DeRosa altogether.
"It's here, on the ticket," he pointed to a paper in her hands.
"Thanks again. Now, Alastair," she commanded.
He pushed through the gate leading to the waiting area and beyond into the sharp night air. Leah grabbed his arm firmly and dragged him to a waiting cab. The streets were nearly deserted, and Alastair realized he must have been at the police station for more than 12 hours. He and his mother rode home in total silence.
But once they were inside, Leah unleashed a hurricane of anger upon him. "How dare you? What is wrong with you? Jail! And drugs? No, you're Amped. It's oozing out of your pores. Have you lost your mind? I cannot believe you," she ranted at him for at least an hour.
And Alastair stood and took it because he had no defense. He knew he was wrong. He knew he had lost Control. But, as the Amp began to wear off, he knew he couldn't stop either. He was dripping wet like a boxer, the Amp leeching out with his sweat. His hands shook from the comedown. He turned away in the middle of his mother's screaming and collected the bags he dropped off earlier. He couldn't do this to her. So he would do it somewhere else.
"What are you doing?" she asked from his doorway. Her anger gave way to pleading. "Don't leave. Al, you don't have to leave."
But he really did. He had to go.
««•»»
Tommy had steered Rose up 5th to 14th and into a small bar. As she sat down, she recognized Evan from their summer jams on the small stage. Tommy slid into the booth next to her and again placed his arm across her shoulder. At one point, he scratched the back of her head, his fingers lazily making a swirling pattern on her scalp, which made Rose feel something she struggled to define. Comfortable, certainly. At home--that was maybe more accurate. Like she was home.
Rose rested her hand on Tommy's knee, and he turned and grinned at her brightly. She found the torn ligament that had ended his hockey career. It didn't hurt him anymore, she could tell. But maybe he could play again. She let her body take the injury, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat for just a moment. Then it was gone.
After Evan's set, he and a tall, loud girl named Renee joined them for dinner. Rose wasn't sure exactly how long they were there, but it seemed like just a blink. Tommy eventually stood and stretched, saying they had to go. Evan gave Rose a quick hug and Renee waved cheerfully as Tommy followed Rose outside.
Rose had grown accustomed to the city in the daytime: bustling, busy, full of people. Now all was quiet, tiny drifts of snow wafting down around her. After about a block, Tommy slipped his hand into hers, fingers laced together like a sneaker.
Back at Avery's house, he led her up the front stairs. "Thank you."
Rose shook her head, pausing a few steps from the top. "I should be thanking you."
He tugged on her hand, and she ascended the last few stairs. He cocked his head to the side. "D'you only talk to me?"
She shrugged.
"Oh, I see, not talkin' to me either, now."
Rose laughed, answering him finally, "I talk to a couple of people." Her voice sounded odd, defensive almost. She grew quieter. "But for a long time, just you."
"Why?" He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You make me feel comfortable," she shrugged again. "Safe."
"You are safe with me."
Rose put her arms around Tommy's neck and her head on his shoulder. His strong arms enveloped her, one hand tangled in the back of her hair. He pulled her closer, breathing into her ear. It was intense. She felt her lips twitching, quaking, and Rose felt she had to pull away. But instead, she turned and kissed his cheek softly. He rested his forehead against hers, her eyes reflected in his. Her heart was pounding as his lips found hers. The kiss was sweet, gentle, comforting.
And brief.
Rose stepped away, not ready for this, and he fumbled for her hand again.
"See you tomorrow?"
Rose could feel her face flushing red as she smiled and nodded, her voice stolen by his kiss.
She leaned against the inside of the door once she was inside, needing to catch her breath. It wasn't her first kiss--a boy named Carlos, the son of her foster guardian back in central California, had claimed that honor a few years ago. But that kiss was nothing like this. This was...she breathed out heavily, unable to find words even in her mind.
With a shake of her head, she remembered that Avery was probably mad, that he probably expected her home hours ago, that she had probably made him look bad in front of his boss once again. She just hoped he was asleep, and she could sneak safely up to her room.
Rose slid out of her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. As she tiptoed forward a few steps, she was blinded by a sweet powdery substance flung in her face. Something hard slammed against her cheek, and she felt blood trickling down her neck. Avery stepped from the shadows, rubbing his knuckles and dusting white powder from his hands. He reeked of alcohol. Like any prey, she ran. Like any predator, he attacked. He caught the collar of her dress, which tore to the waist.
Rose wriggled free of his grasp and made it as far as the dining room before he caught up to her. Avery punched her left cheek again, short-circuiting her vision for a moment. He tore her dress away and pushed her face-down onto the table, her back bared. She gasped for air and tried to conjure fire or an anvil or something to get him off her. But, just like this summer, her magic was gone.
His belt cut into her back over and over. The sound of her heart thudding in her chest muffled all else. Rose squeezed her eyes tight shut, but they flew open after each lashing. Droplets of her blood spattered on the table cloth around her and pooled with the snot and drool already collected on the paper beneath her chin--paper? She struggled to breathe, choking and coughing out a mixture of the sugary powder and her own bitter bile. The belt came down with more force. It was a gruesome sequel to the year before.
I'm going to die here, she thought.
Then a surge of adrenaline kicked in, and she screamed and tried to run again. She tripped over the shredded remnants of her dress, crashing her knees against the steps leading upstairs. Avery pulled her up by the hair and slammed her head back on the table, his left hand covering her mouth. Her eyes, one of which was swollen shut, lost focus, and she felt hazy and disoriented. No. Wake up.
He leaned over her bloodied back. "You disobedient girl. What have you been up to? I know it's no good." he growled into her ear. His right hand slimed around her ribs and groped her breast. Rose whimpered. "Did he touch you? Huh? How about here?" He shoved his fingers between her legs, into her panties, which he then tore at the hip.
Rose panicked and bit down on his hand as hard as she could, taking a chunk of his skin. Avery buried his knuckles into her cheek again. She groaned in agony. He lifted her head off the table and bashed her forehead into the heavy table with a sickening thump. She felt a flicker of magic return, and summoned every scrap she had to send anything in the room that wasn't nailed down flying at him. She heard his zipper and the sound of his pants crumpling on the floor.
This is the end, she thought. Rose felt her knees buckling beneath her as the world went black.