CHAPTER 14 #2
Dark clouds filter in from the southwest, and I tuck my book away as the rain starts to pour down.
Typical for a Boston spring. The water comes down in fat drops, and it only takes a minute for me to get completely soaked.
I sit back, watching the storm move in until the entire sky is obscured and the stars are hidden from view.
Thunder rumbles as lightning flashes through the dark.
My scar itches as I watch the bolts, remembering the time I was struck.
There’s still a lot we don’t know about lightning, but we know enough to understand the gist. Negative charge in the clouds, positive on the ground.
A violent reaction happens when the two charges connect, and the static energy erupts into electricity.
I accidentally turned myself into a lightning rod many months ago, resulting in this burn.
I haven’t been too keen to experiment since.
Instead, I just watch. I’ve learned to sense in the air when the moment arrives, the exact second that the lightning will crack, sending thunderous shockwaves through the air.
I know lightning should scare me. Fuck, it nearly killed me. But I can’t find the fear inside me. Just respect, admiration, jealousy. Lightning can let loose, react vividly and dramatically. It doesn’t have to stay contained inside the shell of a cloud.
I close my eyes as the rain coats my skin.
My eyeliner is streaking down my cheeks, but I could not be bothered.
What would it be like to explode? To erupt and bring the world down with you?
To force others to feel your pain and sadness and anger?
I sigh. Must be nice. Lightning flashes in front of me as if to gloat.
Look at me! Free, volatile, uncontrollable!
I move from my chair and sit on the edge of the roof, dangling my feet over the street below.
Cars drive by, headlights shining as the windshield wipers flap wildly.
My hair is stringy from the rain, hanging in front of my face in heavy tendrils.
I sweep it back, but it just swings back again.
The consequence of cutting my hair I suppose.
A clicking sound draws my attention, but I can’t tell where it comes from.
I must be going crazy. I shake my head, clearing the thoughts from my mind.
Cold from the rain, I decide to tuck in for the night.
The floor sways beneath my feet as the ship rocks with the waves.
Lightning fills the sky with vivid, bright flashes.
I stand on the deck as the ocean roars, splashing against the guardrails.
LaRusso stands in front of me, gun leveled at Derek.
I try to run, to stand in front of him, but the boat lurches violently and I lose my footing.
I crawl, scratching at the wood until my fingernails bleed.
I won’t make it in time! He pulls the trigger and Derek falls to the deck.
I scream as LaRusso turns to me, laughing maniacally.
The lightning flashes again, striking the ship.
The impact sends me flying through the air and I fall into the murky water below.
I splash through the water and end up not in the ocean, but at the gala conference room.
Astrid’s on her knees, being held down by two burly men.
Her eyes are wide with panic, and she screams through a gag.
I reach toward the ceiling, pulling electricity from the lights around, but nothing happens.
No bolts, no lightning, not even a few measly sparks.
Marissa cackles as she walks in front of me.
“I told you we weren’t asking.” Her plastic smile is gone, replaced by a sinister sneer. “Welcome to the team.”
“Sparks!” The door to my bedroom flings open, and Derek crashes in, gun drawn.
I hear someone screaming. Bloodcurdling, shrill, terrifying. Who’s screaming? Make them stop! Somebody make them stop!
“Sparks!” Derek jumps onto the bed and grabs my arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
What happened? I don’t know! I don’t know! Ash coats my sweaty body. My sheets are gone. Did somebody steal my sheets?
Smack! Derek slaps me across the cheek. The screaming cuts out abruptly. Wait, was that me? My chest is heaving. I can feel my heart beating so fast that I think it might burst.
“Are you okay?” Derek asks, sitting next to me. He’s set his pistol on my bedside table.
I take a moment and scan my bedroom. Upon closer inspection, my bedsheets are scorched, leaving behind a sooty residue.
It leaves a dark smear on Derek’s pajamas.
I am coated in it. Fragmented lightning shapes decorate the ceiling, burned into the paint.
My nightmare comes back to me, and I realize I caused this destruction.
Derek sits there, waiting for an answer.
“Spider,” I stammer. “There was a spider.”
“Must have been a big spider.” Derek lets me save face, but he knows the truth. His eyes are lined with pity and compassion.
“Huge.” I nod. “Massive.”
“How about you rinse off in the shower while I hunt around for the spider?” Derek suggests. “Just to make sure it’s gone.”
I’m too exhausted to protest. The water runs black as it carries the soot off my body. I sit on the floor for a moment or two, just holding myself tight. Derek’s alright. Astrid’s alright. I’m alright.
I’m not alright.
By the time I’ve toweled off, Derek has replaced the sheets on my bed. He can’t do anything about the burns on my ceiling, but we’ll have maintenance take care of it tomorrow.
“Do you want to talk about the spider?” Derek offers, fluffing my pillows.
“No.” He’s got enough on his plate, I can’t add my nightmare to his list of responsibilities. He already feels the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Well, I’m all set up on your couch, just in case the spider comes back.” Derek steps back, hands on his hips.
“Dude, you live across the hall.” I roll my eyes. “Go back to your bed.”
“I’m fine on the couch for a night.” His eyes meet mine, and I feel the fraternal warmth of our makeshift sibling bond. He’s not going anywhere. I give him a tight hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear.
“Anytime.”
“I swear I left my hat here.” I dig through the saddlebag on my motorcycle.
Ponytail, sunglasses, lose twenty-dollar bill.
No baseball cap. Did I give it to Astrid yesterday?
Whatever. Frustrated, I grab my sunglasses instead.
I had some spare time and figured a walk would lift my mood. Seems less likely at this point.
Regardless, I set out towards nowhere and anywhere.
Puddles splash my boots, but the leather keeps my feet dry.
My flannel keeps the sun off my arms while also letting the gentle breeze keep me cool.
Something draws my attention down an alley.
I leave the main road and crouch down near a garbage bin.
A small black fuzzball shivers in a puddle.
After a quick search, I can’t find the cat’s mother or any siblings, just the little kitten.
I extend a hand, allowing her to sniff me.
She opens her eyes and licks my finger. Aww, shucks.
Carefully, I scoop up the kitten and hold her to my chest. She’s cold to the touch. Quickly, I run to the nearest vet hospital.
“Help me, please.” I go up to the receptionist, sweaty from running this whole way. “I found this cat and she doesn’t look very good. I’ll pay whatever, just make sure she’s okay.”
The receptionist calls for the vet and we are ushered into an exam room. I don’t know what kind of tests the vet runs, but the little kitten doesn’t complain the whole time. I pet her nose when she gets her vaccines, trying to give her some form of moral support.
“Great news,” the vet says. “She’s a perfectly healthy little cat. Bummer she was abandoned. We can’t find a microchip so she’s probably a stray. I’ll call the local shelter and they’ll come pick her up soon.”
“Wait, what? No!” I crouch next to the kitten and cradle her to my chest. “I can’t just abandon her too.”
I know what it’s like to be on your own. Neglected, isolated, alone. This cat is only a few weeks old, she doesn’t deserve to be abandoned.
“Do you want to adopt her?” The vet asks, raising her eyebrows. “A cat is a big responsibility.”
“She’s mine.” Her breath is soft against my skin. “I’ll take care of her.”
“Okay then. Have a great rest of your day.”
It’s that easy? Shouldn’t there be a background check or some kind of readiness test? I stare down at the little creature in my arms and meander back home. This is going to be tough to explain to Derek.
It was not, in fact, tough to explain to Derek.
As soon as he saw the kitten, his puppy-dog eyes grew three sizes.
He coddled her and played with her paws.
A shipment arrived less than an hour later with all the cat supplies we could ask for – litter boxes, food, treats, beds, toys.
I thought the kitten would get overwhelmed, but she contentedly chases a string in between stopping for scritches.
“You’ve got to name her,” Derek prods.
“It feels rude to just give her a name.” I gesture to her. “Like, that’s just deciding who she is without her opinion.”
“It’s a cat.” Derek rolls his eyes. “She needs a name.”
“Fine.” My mind spins, searching for a suitable name. “How about Licorice?”
“What do you think, Licorice?” Derek coos. Licorice responds with a squeak. I hope that means she approves.
Derek lays on the floor with her for over an hour, giving her constant attention.
Maybe he needed this as much as I did. My phone buzzes, Astrid.
She’s wondering if we are planning to meet today.
Shit, I have something I need to do first. I sneak out, content that Licorice will be fine with her new pal.
I have to check on one of our franchises. We can meet after. I shoot off the quick text to Astrid.
Do you want to meet there? Save you a drive. Her response.
Fine, but don’t come inside. The clientele there is a little… temperamental.
Cool, text the address.
This is going to bite me in the ass, isn’t it?