CHAPTER 9 #2
“This doesn’t change anything,” she blurts coldly. “We’re still not friends.”
“Sorry.” I wipe the crumbs from my shirt. Sparks cringes as I pull away awkwardly. For a moment, I almost think she feels bad for her snipe, but then I force myself to remember. We broke up – no, I broke up with her. She doesn’t care about me anymore. “When are you available to make the trip?”
“Do you have your suit?” I nod, and she sighs. “Then we’re going today. I need a shower first.”
We get ready quickly, each take a shower – separately – and she grabs a prepacked go bag.
I subtly peek inside. It has some standard equipment: rope, flashlights, glass cutter, sunscreen.
Apparently, this is what they consider to be the bare essentials.
We agree to take my car, as it doesn’t make sense for us to drive separately.
Plus, I think Sparks would sooner walk than give me a ride on her motorcycle.
I stand by the elevator, unable to go up on my own due to their security measures.
Derek passes Sparks some sack lunches and I overhear a bit of their conversation.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Derek warns, clenching his fists at his side. “You shouldn’t be going on this road trip with her.”
“I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” she promises. “I’ll have my phone on me, so call if there’s an emergency here.” He pulls her into a tight hug, and she doesn't pull away like she did with me.
Derek whispers in her ear and tussles her hair. I used to be Sparks’s best friend, the one she could banter with, trust with some of her secrets. It turns out, I was easily replaceable. I try not to let the hurt show on my face.
“I’m not a child,” she whines in response to his whispers.
“No, but you’re practically my sister.” Derek whips her around and locks her in a noogie.
“Stop it.” She tries to sound intimidating but can’t stop laughing. I used to make her laugh. Used to mean something to her.
Eventually, Sparks escapes the headlock. Derek gives her a smile and waves, before glaring at me. Message received. I’m not welcome here. Sparks doesn’t notice as she presses her thumb into the elevator, taking us to the parking garage.
My Water Weaver costume catches the small amount of light illuminating the garage.
There’s a mindset switch when I don the costume.
Astrid is gone, and I become someone more surefooted, confident in my actions.
That being said, I also love the outfit.
The fabric really does shimmer like water.
The gossamer tulle is also quite stunning.
I notice Sparks staring. She’s never really gotten to look at my disguise up close before.
Her eyebrows scrunch together, and I can tell she’s wondering why there’s fabric flowing from my waist and sleeves.
Reasonable question, it doesn’t seem practical at first glance.
“It’s slippery.” I answer her unspoken question. She snaps out of her trance, not realizing she’d been staring. “If someone grabs it, I slide right out. Go ahead, touch it.”
She hesitantly runs her fingers along my forearm before grabbing my wrist tightly. I slide right out of her grasp. Her eyebrows raise in surprise at the ease in which I do so. Trust me, many people have tried to restrain me when fights go south. It never works out for them.
“Very neat,” Sparks agrees. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I grab her bag and place it in the trunk. “Any fun tricks in your suit?”
“Yeah, actually.” Her eyes light up as she gestures at her suit. “It’s super cool. See the silver lines? That’s aluminum threads. It allows me to electrify my suit! I don’t get to use it very often because my powers are range-based, but someone did get zapped just the other day!”
“Hmm.” I eye her suspiciously. “Nifty.”
“Try it!” She holds her arm out and I scurry back a step, not eager to feel her electricity in my veins.
“You’ve shown me already,” I counter, keeping a fair distance between us.
We’ve come to blows before, long before I knew Sparks was Anise.
The encounter was rough, even though both of us were pulling our punches.
I am not in a hurry to relive the feeling of her powers coursing through me ever again.
“What?” She lowers her arm, confused. “When?”
“Second robbery, the armored trucks,” I reply, shuddering as I think about the jab I landed on her abdomen.
“Oh.” A moment of awkward silence passes. “Sorry about that. If it makes you feel better, that was a baby shock. Normally, it’s a lot more of a deterrent.”
“It doesn’t.” Trust me, the baby shock was quite a deterrent. I step into the driver’s seat. “Oh god, the poor people you give a full shock to.”
“Don’t worry about them.” Sparks shrugs. “They’re all dead.”
I lean my head against the steering wheel. Goodness gracious, Sparks.
It’s a long drive to Danver Hills, and it passes about as quickly as you can expect.
I hum along to the radio, tapping my fingers on the wheel occasionally.
Sparks just curls up against the door and stares at the Pennsylvanian countryside passing by.
She gets tenser the closer we get, especially when she appears to start recognizing landmarks.
I do my best to soothe her without being too overt about it.
I switch the radio to slower music and hum a little louder, but she just tightens her seatbelt and scrunches her eyes closed.
Slowly, the tires roll to a stop. We’re here.
I observe her cautiously as she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.
I can see the thoughts cross her face clearly, as if she was saying them aloud.
Oh god, we’re here. I can’t breathe. It’s not safe.
We have to go. We have to leave. I pull my door handle to open the door.
It’s not safe. I’m not safe. She closes her eyes and her hand darts out to squeeze mine.
I freeze at her touch, unsure of how to respond.
We’re not friends. She made that clear. She doesn’t want my affection.
But I know I have to do something as she curls up into a ball, rocking slightly.
Slowly, I close my door and start humming again.
I gradually shift to sit on the center console and pull her into my chest, stroking her hair.
We sit like that for a few minutes, humming along to a lullaby my mother used to sing to me.
Eventually, her heartbeat returns to a normal rhythm and her eyes flutter open.
I hold Sparks for a few moments longer, reluctantly letting her go.
She rubs her palms on her thighs, embarrassed by her episode.
I don't say anything, just sit in the silence patiently.
“You’ve been in before?” She whispers. “It’s safe?”
“It’s safe,” I promise.