CHAPTER 24
Sparks
I was half-tempted to get that drawing tattooed across my torso, but by the time our limbs separated, it was smudged past recognition. It’s okay, I have the feeling that Astrid’s magic will follow me regardless.
The rest of the day passes normally, and I manage to avoid a lecture from Derek about the escapade Astrid and I had earlier. He has a private moment with Astrid. Probably something like “do that again and I’ll kill you,” but they seem to be on good terms after. It’s weird to see them getting along.
The clocks tick on, and soon the day winds down.
This is normally where Astrid would go home, sleep in her own bed, but tonight she begs to spend the night with me.
She doesn’t have to beg, she can stay over whenever.
I hold her beneath the sheets. Astrid is so excited, she can barely fall asleep.
What on earth has got her acting like this?
I ignore her and turn over, drifting off.
“Happy Birthday!” She cheers, bright and early. My alarm hasn’t even gone off.
“It’s not my birthday,” I groan, smothering myself with a pillow to block out her high-pitched squeal.
“Yes, it is!” Astrid shakes my arm. “May 23rd, right?”
“What?” I sit up quickly, checking the date on my phone.
May 23rd. It snuck up on me this year. My chest tightens.
“Happy twenty-fourth birthday!” She practically tackles me to give me a hug.
It’s my birthday.
“How did you know it was my birthday?” I don’t tell anyone. I don’t celebrate. I haven’t in eight, no, nine years.
“It was in your mother’s journal,” she admits. “I read a few pages before I knew who she was.”
“Oh.”
“I know just how to celebrate,” Astrid whispers in my ear, sneaking her hand under the hem of my shirt. I jerk away.
“Maybe later,” I say, hoping to ease my rejection. But I know I can’t, not today.
“Okay…” Astrid tilts her head, confused by my reaction. “Later then.”
“Derek’s going to be waiting,” I stammer, fumbling with a sports bra. “I need to get to the gym.”
“You can take today off.” She slides out of bed. “How do you want to celebrate?”
“Treadmill sounds nice.” I can’t look at her. If I stand still, she’ll know. “Or maybe I’ll do sprints today.”
“You actually want to run?” She is bewildered. “We could go bowling, or rollerblading, or watch a movie.”
“I choose running.” I finish lacing my shoes. “Feel free to go back to sleep, I’ll wake you after I shower.”
Astrid calls after me, but I’m already jogging out the door. It’s my birthday. I hate my birthday. Every year, I try to avoid it, pretend it doesn’t exist. It rarely works, something always reminds me.
All of the treadmills are occupied, but the basketball court is clear. Good enough for me. I stretch my legs and loosen up. I crouch down at one end of the court.
The thoughts cut through my mind, recollections I can’t drown out. Well, I can certainly try. I take off toward the other wall, touch the boundary line, and bolt back. Again. A memory pops up. Again. I can’t shake them. Again. I relive the moment with each sprint. Down, back. The memory replays.
My shoe slips on the accumulating sweat, and I wipe out, skidding onto my side. I roll onto my knees, unhurt but unable to get up. I look toward the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling, my chest heaving from the exertion. It’s my birthday. Derek takes that moment to enter the gym.
“Sparks, wash up,” he calls. “I need you in the common area in fifteen.”
I nod, lacing my fingers behind my head. Gradually, I stand and make my way back to my apartment. Astrid isn’t there. Great, I upset her. I sigh as I dunk my head under the shower stream. She doesn’t understand. It’s my birthday.
Every way I can make this a normal day, I do. Same shorts, same tank, same flannel. There’s nothing special about today. It’s just a random day in May. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay, what does Derek want?
“Happy Birthday!”
Everyone jumps out as I step into the common area.
Streamers and balloons are everywhere. I don’t know how they decorated this quickly.
A few sheet cakes line the counters. Astrid and Derek high-five as Oliver leads the group in song.
It seems we have practically every member of the syndicate here.
I force a smile to my face. They put so much effort into this.
They don’t know that my birthday is a reminder of the worst day of my life.
I blow out the candles as the group cheers.
Oliver cuts the cake, passing slices around.
The cake’s nothing special, store bought with loopy frosting letters reading “Happy Birthday, Sparkie!” I don’t know how Derek and Oliver found out, probably Astrid.
Everyone’s having a great time, racing each other in video games, dancing to the boombox someone brought, drinking fruit punch out of plastic cups. Everyone’s having a great time but me.
While they’re distracted, I sneak into the elevator, taking it up to the roof.
I rummage through my book tub to find my emergency bottle of whiskey, hidden while Derek was trying to get me sober.
The pouring rain soaks my hair as I sit down on the edge of the roof, unscrewing the cap and taking a long pull of the drink.
I won’t get drunk right now, that’ll raise too many questions later, but I do need to take the edge off.
I rescrew the lid, hoping the rain won’t water it down too much.
Cars drive by quickly down below, windshield wipers flicking water onto the damp concrete. In the distance, there’s a faint honk. I wonder if anyone else is celebrating something today, or wishing they weren’t. I reach back for the bottle, my fingers seizing only empty air. Huh?
The bottle is gone. In its place is a small clear container with a single cupcake inside, set atop a photograph wrapped in a plastic film.
Hesitantly, I move the cupcake aside, picking up the picture with shaky hands.
It’s faded, not recent by any means. Unlike the usual photos from him, this one is posed.
A young woman holds a smiling child in her arms, maybe eight years old.
They both wave at the camera. It’s my mom and me, many years ago.
I stand quickly, scanning the area for any sign of the person who left this, but he’s gone, vanished into thin air.
Should I be more concerned about how he got onto the roof?
Probably, but I don’t really care right now.
I just sit back down, staring at the happy family in the picture.
A few tears slip down my cheeks, and I am thankful for the heavy rain washing them away.
“There you are!” Astrid plops down next to me. Her powers create an umbrella over us, directing the rain elsewhere. With a flick of her fingers, I am dry, tears and all. “Why’d you sneak out?”
“I just needed some air.” I shrug, looking down at the street below. “Sorry, I’m not too great at this birthday thing.”
“No need to apologize.” She holds my hand. She looks at me, gently tilting my head towards her. I resist for a moment but let her turn my head. “Why are you crying?”
“What do you mean?” I sniffle. “It’s just rain.”
“What’s Charlotte think―” She cuts herself off. “Oh. Oh, no.”
“Yeah.” I hand the photo of my mother to her. “I don’t celebrate my birthdays anymore.”
It was nine years ago today. Nine years ago, the explosion killed my mother. Happy birthday, me.
“I’m sorry.” She passes the photo back. “I didn’t realize. God, I’m so stupid.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” I shrug. “Most people tend to avoid having traumatic events on their birthdays. Besides, it’s been nearly a decade now.”
A decade? I realize the weight of my words as they tumble from my mouth. I try to brush off the pain, but silent sobs rack my shoulders. I lean into Astrid’s chest, and she pets my hair.
“I can’t remember her,” I mourn. “My memories are fading. All I have left are scraps. A shadowed silhouette reading ‘Physics for Babies’ to me in bed. A bandage on a scraped knee. A fresh cookie from the oven. I can’t even picture her face without looking at her photo.”
“She knows you love her,” Astrid murmurs. “That’s what matters.”
“My mom loved the rain.” I look up at the clouds. “She would always drag me outside and dance with me in the puddles. We would dance and dance until we were soaked through, and then we would dance a bit longer.”
Astrid stands and extends a hand down to me. She stops redirecting the rain, and the drops pelt my hair.
“For Holly?” She offers.
“For Mom.” I accept.
I lean my head on Astrid’s shoulder as the rain soaks my clothes. We slowly spin in wide circles, nothing like the frenzied movements my mom used to do, but it’s all I have in me right now.
“I want my mom back.” My voice cracks.
Astrid just holds me close. A few tears glide down her cheeks as well. She holds me until I can’t tell where my tears end and the rain begins. And then, we danced a bit longer.
The next few days pass without note. Leftover cake quickly disappears from the communal fridge.
If my birthday brought any good, it’s a boost in team morale.
My men are noticeably happier, and I make a note to add more celebrations to the calendar.
But that’s something I can do later, I’m a bit busy now.
Astrid moans beneath me as my fingertips blaze a trail beneath her shirt.
Her hands are woven into the strands of my hair, gently pulling my lips to hers.
I suck on her bottom lip, releasing it after a quick nip.
She chuckles before peppering my neck with sweet kisses.
God, this woman is intoxicating. She slips a finger into my waistband-
BWAAAH! BWAAAH! BWAAAH!
I jerk away, fixing my tousled clothes.
“What’s that noise?” Astrid’s eyes lock onto mine.
“The panic alarm,” I answer, unnerved. “We need to go.”
“What’s going on?” She takes my hand as I lead her out of the bedroom.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Derek is already at the door, composed as always.