Part 4 (1/2)

CHAPTER TWO: ALONE.

I wake up with a headache. My body feels like it's been in a wrestling match, and judging by how sore I am, I lost. I roll over in my bed and groan. It was all a dream, right? No ”Human Mood Ring.” No ”Master Chef slash Driver.” No ”J. Crew angel with the 'I Dream of Jeannie' powers.” No ”Warrior Princess slash Fas.h.i.+on Model.” No ”j.a.panese Bohemian Songstress.” No Marcus. I feel a sharp pain of regret. Well, at least the world is not in peril.

When I got home last night, it was only a little after ten. My mom didn't flip out. She thought I had finally taken her advice and gone out with Sara. She said I didn't have to make up any excuses about studying. It was cool to go out with a friend so long as I was back before ten thirty. I just mumbled in agreement and went to bed. I heard her ask if I wanted a slice of the pizza she had ordered, but I was too tired to answer.

My mom has never been big on nutrition or doing anything in the traditional way. When I was a kid, I would have vanilla ice cream for breakfast; she said it was the same thing as having milk. It always made me happy when she let me do stuff like that. I felt special having been given a fun mom and unusual eyes.

Then when I was thirteen, my mom told me the truth about my father. She didn't want to, but I kept asking a bunch of questions, and she hated lying to me. So one day after asking her a string of questions, she told me the whole story. I haven't felt special since.

I think she regrets telling. She tries to make it up by always telling me how much she loves me and how happy she is to be my mom, but that just makes me feel worse. I feel like I don't really deserve her love. Still, I'm glad she loves me.

Given the way I came about, all I can do is try to be a good daughter. That's why I don't cut cla.s.s. I clean the house from top to bottom every weekend. I go food shopping and do the laundry. She says that I should be out with friends, but I'd rather take care of her. We have movie nights, bowling tournaments, and book club once a month.

She is more like a friend than a mom, and most of the time, that's a good thing. I can tell her stuff and she won't get mad or overreact. But sometimes she can be forgetful, forcing me to be the responsible one. She's lost three sets of keys this month, she never remembers to turn off the lights before she goes to bed, and if I don't take her credit cards to pay the bills, she'll let them pile up.

Last year she forgot to pay the light bill and we spent Thanksgiving weekend in the dark. I was so annoyed at her. Then she knocked on my door with a bowl of ice cream and two flashlights. She said it was our duty to eat as much as possible so that it didn't melt. And, well, I took my responsibility very seriously. Then she challenged me to a laser flashlight duel. We then followed that up with a heated game of shadow puppets, which I won. Since then, I'm in charge of calling the utility companies and paying them. And she's in charge of keeping the ice cream levels high.

I yawn, stretch out and pull the covers off of me. My room could double as a library. I have tons of biographies and Greek anthologies. I also collect travel books. I have about a million places I'd like to go, but since I've yet to get the money, I have to settle for books. There are three places I'm determined to find a way to get to: Paris, Athens, and Florence.

Maybe once I travel my imagination won't go so wild that I actually think the fate of the world rests on me. I can only imagine what a psychiatrist would say about my long drawn out fantasy. Luckily I can't afford therapy, so I'll never really know how crazy I am. Looking around our apartment you would think we're better off than we actually are. We have a two-bedroom apartment in Soho. My grandparents left it for my mom in their will.

My mom worked two jobs and went to night school to become a nurse's aide. Now she finally has a decent income and we can do a few nice things once in a while, like a cab ride or a nice dinner out. I want to get a job, but she won't let me. She's always saying something about how I shouldn't be wasting my youth and accelerating to adulthood.

We both have the same taste in furniture: old English, cla.s.sic styles with a soft romantic feel. Something you'd see in the home of the royal family (if the royal family shopped at IKEA). We have books everywhere. When we argue, it's usually about which of us had which book last and misplaced it.

Ms. Charlotte, my cat, is ignoring me. She's gray with black stripes and she doesn't care to be left waiting at the window for hours. I owe her an apology. But I know she isn't ready to forgive me. She makes a point of strutting by me, her tail high up in the air.

”Okay, I know I was wrong. I'm sorry,” I say, picking her up off the floor. She meows as if to say ”let me go.” I stick my tongue out at her. That's her favorite game. She can't help but stick out her claws and try to catch me. I hold her close to me. She purrs then jumps off of me. That means I'm close to forgiveness, but I need to buy her a treat in order to seal the deal.

Finally, I get out of bed, get dressed and head to the kitchen.

I walk in and find Miku, Rio and Jay having breakfast with my mom. I am beyond stunned; so much for the dream. My mom smiles brightly and says, ”Hey, honey! Your friends came by to take you to school, and I convinced them to have breakfast with us.”

”Oh, um, great,” is all I can manage. ”We were just getting some interesting info about you from your mom,” Miku says.

”Yeah, why didn't you tell us you got cast as a b.u.mble bee in your second grade play?” Jay asks, hardly holding back the laughter from his voice.

My mother corrects him, ”No, she was Queen b.u.mble Bee, and she was the only one in her group with a line.”

Rio thought I wasn't embarra.s.sed enough, so he looks at my mother and says, ”Do you remember the line she had?”

My mom turns to me and says, ”She remembers. C'mon honey, say it for them.” I am going to kill Rio with my bare hands.

”No, we have to go. We're going to be late,” I say desperately.

Jay jumps in ”Actually, we've got plenty of time.” I am going to kill him, too. But I'll make his death slow. Very slow.

”C'mon honey. Say the line,” my mom persists.

Miku chimes in, ”Please, Emmy.” I look at all of them and roll my eyes.

I'm outnumbered. I sigh and say the line between clenched teeth.

”I'm the Queen Bee so please be-e-e-e-e-have.” The kitchen rocks with laughter. Jay cannot bring himself to stop. Miku looks at me with adoring eyes and Rio shakes his head. My mom is beaming. Screw it. I'm gonna kill all of them.

We finally get in the car and head to school. As soon as I'm inside I bark at them, ”Are you guys trying to embarra.s.s me to death?”

”It's part of the job, Emmy, to find out as much as we can about you,” Miku replies.

”How is my second grade play important to the fate of the world?”

”You never know. Marcus said to look at everything,” Rio counters.

Hearing his name incenses me. ”Whatever, it's not like he cares. He barely looked at me last night,” I was trying to be breezy about the whole thing but it came off whiny and childish. Miku and Rio exchanged a look that was too quick for me to catch. Jay blasts the music. It's hip-hop; it's loud and has a really good ba.s.s line. ”The music's gonna turn the car over,” I say. ”Relax, I got this,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.

At that exact moment I figure out the perfect way to get him back for the school play thing. I lean forward and say to him ”Jay, this is a nice car. What is it, a Honda?”

As soon as I say it, he pulls abruptly over to the side. He gets out of the car and paces back and forth as if trying to calm himself. I knew that would get him. The twins and I are really enjoying Jay's tantrum. Jay comes back into the car and addresses me with the utmost seriousness. ”This is a Phantom Black Pearl, Audi A4. Her name is Siren and she will not be disrespected. You should apologize,” he instructs. I suppress a smile and say, ”Oh, sorry.”

”Not to me, to Siren,” Jay shoots back. I look at Rio and raise my eyebrows.

Before I can ask Miku, she says, ”Yes, he is serious.” So I try not to laugh as I choke out an apology to the car. I mean, ”Siren.” Wow, who knew angels were nuts?

We are two blocks away from school when Rio goes over the plan. ”Miku and I will be in your cla.s.s along with Jay. When Reese is not on Runner duty, he'll be a senior. For now, he's following a few of them to see if they lead to Julian. Ameana will be coming in as a senior from Jefferson High.”

”What about Marcus?” I ask.

”He'll be a senior also. That way he only has a few cla.s.ses. He needs to be able to come in and out of the school if need be,” Jay says.

”Whatever. I don't care.” No one's buying it.

We park the car a block away from school and get out. The warm weather from yesterday is a distant memory. It's twenty-something degrees, but the wind-chill is making it feel like the low teens. The air is so frigid, I can see my breath. The sun hanging high above us is purely decorative. The cold is unrelenting. Everyone is rus.h.i.+ng to enter the building.

On the way to school Miku had told me that she cleaned up after the Runners by going back into the school when all the students had left for the fire drill. She called Reese on her cell and had him Blink the closet guy to the hospital. She quickly mopped up the blood, and removed the bullet holes in the wall. Since she had no way of fixing up the wall, she kicked it in so that it left one gaping hole. Everyone considered it a random act of vandalism. I ask her how she was able to kick a hole in the wall, and she pointed out that all of them had strength that far surpa.s.sed that of humans.

Still, I expected to hear some kind of discussion about what went on yesterday, but there was nothing. Everyone had either cut cla.s.s and missed it or dismissed it as another fire drill come and gone. I did hear in homeroom that Ron Wexler, who works in the attendance office, had been mugged outside the school. The princ.i.p.al reminded us over the PA that it's best to walk in groups and that we should all be very careful.

Miku has been close by me every minute of the day. She asks me a million questions ranging from what hospital I was born in to what my favorite color is. I feel bad that she has the task of playing reporter. My life is nothing to write about. I mean, aside from the past 24 hours.

I finally get a chance to sneak in a few questions of my own. ”Guardians are not allowed to take a life except for the first Guardian, but he must ask the council's permission, right?”

”Yeah, we can threaten humans, just to get them to tell us what we want to know but we can't take their life. Or we go to...well, you know.”

”But you sang yesterday and the three Runners killed themselves. That was you, right?”

”Yes, but according to the council, humans are people with souls. Runners are humans who have sold their souls to Lucy in exchange for wealth, power and position.”