《A Wyrm for Weaver》


 Chapter 1

    My memories are a bit confused. I remember taking Karen to the prom, and realizing that there might be something beyond even the burgeoning friendship that grew out of ¡®The Deal¡¯. I remember walking along the lake afterwards, talking about the future.


    Then I remember Arashi appearing. I remember charging at the bastard, only to meet a wall of sharp wind that cut through my tuxedo, lacerating the skin underneath. I clearly remember the gurgling scream as some wind slipped past me and Karen falling down in an explosion of blood and viscera. Why didn¡¯t she stay directly behind me? I remember rage flooding my mind, changing me, only to be overmatched again. The only edge I had was in maneuverability, so I decided to take him with me: crushing his eye and plunging both of us into the deep lake.


    And then blackness.


    I awoke to the smell of saltwater and cold water lapping at my calves. A large man in coveralls was turning me over and jumping back when I coughed.


    ¡°Damn, son, I was sure you¡¯d OD-ed. But you don¡¯t stink enough to be a Merchant,¡± he said warily. One hand rested on a heavy belt with a radio.


    Glenridge was far away from any ocean, so I had no idea where I was. ¡°I have no idea how I got here. And where am I?¡± as I struggled to my knees, trying to get away from the wave freezing my feet off.


    ¡°Damn, must have been a hell of a party then,¡± the guy laughed as he helped me up. ¡°You don¡¯t even remember how you got to the docks?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even remember travelling to the ocean, whichever one this is,¡± Rhiyen groused.


    A snort. ¡°Well then welcome to Brockton Bay.¡±


    *O*O*


    The big guy was named Steve, and he worked for the Dockworker¡¯s Union as an overnight security guard. I staggered after him to the office on bare feet. I¡¯d either lost my shoes in the water or they¡¯d been stolen while I was unconscious. Soon I was wrapped in a blanket and drinking strong coffee.


    The Brockton Bay Police eventually arrived and questioned me. I decided to play it safe and claim amnesia ¨C being too candid about weird shit would likely end me up in a psych ward. The medical examination determined I was healthy and placed my age around sixteen or so. That surprised me, but I was also a couple of inches shorter than I remember being, so I let it pass. I wasn¡¯t going to correct them since I had no idea what to do next. I¡¯d never even heard of a Brockton Bay before when I was in Glenridge. Harry¡¯s story about how he found me suggested that there were other worlds. Had I fallen into one? Even if I hadn¡¯t, the year was freaking 2010.


    Best to assume nothing and keep my mouth shut.


    Since the authorities decided that I was a minor, they turned me over to child protective services. After a perfunctory interview I entered the system and was assigned to a foster home. The Landry¡¯s weren¡¯t like foster homes I¡¯d seen on TV. They ran their house like a business. They received money from the state to house four teenagers, so they supplied room and board and made sure we went to school. We also had assigned chores we had to perform. It wasn¡¯t anything too onerous, so I could deal. But a kid coming here looking for emotional support, let alone a family, was screwed. The other three were all teenagers who I was pretty sure grew up in the system. School was out for the summer, so all of them were working part-time jobs, probably to save up for when they aged out. As soon as I got settled in my rather spartan room, I followed their example.


    Karen would probably have laughed to see me working in a library, of all places. The thought was funny, but also bitter. We¡¯d become friends, despite my stubbornness, and maybe would have become more. But she¡¯s gone now, and all I have is maybes and should-have-beens. Regrets are painful. They eat away at you, and they never really go away. So, I worked as many hours as I could, and when I wasn¡¯t working or doing yardwork, I was reading. Everything.


    This world was freaking crazy. Back in the 80¡¯s the first superhero, Scion, showed up. Since then, more and more people have developed superpowers, becoming what they call parahumans, or ¡°capes¡±. Some decided to become heroes, but a lot more decided to become villains. A lot of the heroes got organized into the Protectorate, with teams in each major city. The Parahuman Response Team was formed by the US government as an official agency for policing parahumans. Other countries formed similar agencies. Ten years later, creatures called Endbringers started attacking every few months, targeting entire cities or vital infrastructure. When this happened, heroes and villains would call a truce and join together to fight them off. Sometimes it worked, but even then, they were only being driven off after the capes suffered massive casualties.


    These periodic attacks had massive effects on the world. Behemoth destroyed enough oilfields to cripple global production, let alone the nuclear power plants he cracked open. The Simurgh stopped the space race and seems to delight in targeting any implementation of scientific breakthroughs. Leviathan sinking Kyushu and Newfoundland sent tidal waves everywhere. The mere existence of the aquatic menace sharply curtailed the shipping industry. This crushed the economies of many port cities, including Brockton Bay.


    At work, I could access the computers on my breaks and discover how big the internet had become. The message board PHO, or ParaHumans Online, was a resource for keeping up on current events related to these weirdoes. Apparently, Brockton Bay was pretty bad off. There were a lot more villains here than the PRT-ENE could match. Three major gangs threatened the peace, the largest of these was the Empire Eighty-Eight, a group of actual Nazis. The second largest was the Asian Bad Boyz or ABB. They were led by a guy named Lung who reportedly changes into a dragon and once fought off Brockton Bay¡¯s entire Protectorate team. A distant third was the Merchants, who manufactured or distributed most of the drugs in this town and actively marketed to kids and people impacted by the crashing economy.


    In other words, this place was screwed. I also realized that I needed to get my grades up if I wanted any chance of getting out of this place. So, I started reviewing what I needed to know for school. I was penciled in as sixteen and entering my sophomore year at the end of the summer. Not that frigging New Hampshire knows what the season means. I was going to be ahead in some areas, like math, and struggling in others, like history. I checked out copies of some sophomore level textbooks and read them at home after dinner. This led to an interesting conversation with the oldest foster, Jared, a stocky black guy with short dreads.


    ¡°Why are you bothering?¡± the older boy asked as I was gathering up my books and notes.


    ¡°I just want to make sure I¡¯m caught up before the new year starts,¡± I said.


    He snorted. ¡°It doesn''t matter. I heard you¡¯re going to Winslow with the rest of us, pretty boy.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I asked, not liking the sound of this.


    ¡°The place is an absolute shithole,¡± Jared said bitterly. ¡°More kids graduate to the gangs than any fancy colleges. Not like there will be any decent job waiting for them unless they get lucky or know someone.¡±


    With that incredibly heartfelt endorsement, I was super-motivated to get ahead in my weaker subjects. I wondered if I could maybe pass as a lesser cape given my abilities¡­ but that seemed like a horrible idea. Young capes had a short half-life on the streets as independents, and I had zero desire to join a gang, including the Protectorate. Being a little stronger and faster than normal wasn¡¯t exactly an earth-shattering power, and the other thing I¡¯m not even sure I can recreate at will.


    My meager savings waxed as the summer waned. I was pleasantly surprised that the Landrys didn¡¯t try to take any of it, but Jared said they were pretty straight shooters in that respect. They provided a service for which they were compensated and that was that. I didn¡¯t need more than they offered, so I could respect that. But eventually I had to switch gears to attend Winslow. I was tempted to try and continue working, but I couldn¡¯t make the schedules work, especially with travel times.


    When I stepped off the bus in front of Winslow, I realized something. Jared was right.


    The walls showed signs of layers of graffiti, barely scraped off. As I went inside, I passed through clearly wrecked metal detectors nobody had bothered to repair. The floors, walls, and ceilings had a faint dirty tinge that spoke to years of not-so-benign neglect.


    And the gangs¡­


    Dealing with asshole jocks in Glenridge was unpleasant and annoying, but I¡¯d never seen students wearing gang colors inside a school before. Most of the Asian kids were wearing ABB red and green. A lot of the white guys were sporting skinheads and swastikas. Actual fucking Nazis. What the ever-loving fuck? I hadn¡¯t seen a lot of them around the library for obvious reasons, but they were here in force. Checking me out. What the hell?


    Then it hit me. Caucasian, black hair (albeit with red tints in the right light). Blue eyes. They were sizing me up. Oh hell no! I scowled back at them, and they began sneering. Good. Fucking Nazis. Just imagining what these jerk-offs would call my friend Harold left me steaming. They weren¡¯t fit to kiss the shoes of the bravest fucker in Glenridge.


    I couldn¡¯t rightly tell if the dopers I could see were with the Merchants, or just regular customers, but I didn¡¯t really care.


    The schedule I¡¯d been mailed told me that I had homeroom with Mrs. Knott, and then computer science. You¡¯d expect a computer teacher to be a skinny nerd. That¡¯s the stereotype, anyway. Knott was a tall broad-shouldered woman with long blond hair, so go figure. I was listening as she called roll, when she hit the Cs and hesitated, I piped up.


    ¡°Rhiyen Conner, here.¡± The blond-haired girl that had been eying me jumped a little.


    ¡°That¡¯s an¡­ unusual spelling I have here,¡± Mrs. Knott said dubiously. ¡°R-H-I ?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s Welsh,¡± I replied blandly. It certainly wasn¡¯t, but when CPS asked me my name I insisted on that spelling. My adoptive father Harry may have been a crazy hippy, but he¡¯d come through when it counted, so I kept the name he gave me.


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Mrs. Knott said and continued the roll call. The class consisted of a skills assessment. I picked up a little over the summer about computers and the internet, but nothing at all regarding coding. Still, I was able to easily answer two thirds of the questions. From the muttered cursing and sighs, a lot of people were having more trouble. Only two people seemed to breeze through ¨C a girl with long curly dark hair and a blond-haired boy with an unfortunate bowl cut.


    Knott explained after the assessment that she would be handing out in-class assignments based on the state requirements and would be covered by the required readings. Students that could handle those easily would be given extra credit assignments on more advanced topics. The two that aced the test seemed to perk up a bit at this. I thought it sounded interesting as well. I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to not see how the internet was growing, even with the Endbringers trashing everything. Somehow, somewhere, I am sure Howard is laughing at me.


    After the bell, we had to hustle because there were only five minutes to get to World Affairs with Mr. Gladly. He was visually the opposite of Mrs. Knott, a short man with curly brown hair and an overly friendly manner. He called out to several students he seemed to know by name. From what I could see, they were also the most popular students from the ¡°right¡± cliques. Noticeably the two top scorers from Mrs. Knott¡¯s test were not included in this select group. So, it looked like he was going for ¡®popular students¡¯, rather than ¡®good students¡¯.


    I also noticed that the popular students he interacted with tended to call him ¡°Mr. G.¡± which made him smile and puff up like a bantam rooster. I manfully resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If the first class was supposed to set the tone, then this was screwed up. Clearly this guy was just here to make friends. Was he one of those guys that peaked in high school and never moved past that? Reliving his youth? I guess there were worse vices, but it was kind of pathetic.


    But then his narcissism stopped being a victimless crime. One of the smallest sophomore girls I¡¯d seen went up to sharpen her pencil. As she went back to her seat, she detoured and did something. I couldn¡¯t see exactly what because of the people in the way. But the long-haired girl from Computer Science whipped her head up and began shaking something out of her hair.


    ¡°Hey Taylor,¡± another girl called out. ¡°The head lice itching today?¡±


    The short girl added as she sat down. ¡°Maybe they need to shave it all off, make you look even more like a boy.¡±


    Some other girls laughed. Bowl cut and the doper he was sitting with didn¡¯t say anything. Nobody said anything about it. Mr. Gladly continued talking to one of the jocks like nothing had happened. Okay, this mean girl shit was ridiculous. What made this girl such a pariah?


    I tried to ask her when class let out, but she bolted out of there as soon as the bell rang. When I reached the hallway, she was nowhere to be seen, but I did see some of the girls clustered together laughing. I went down to the cafeteria for lunch, but she wasn¡¯t there either. What the hell?


    I went through the line and collected some mediocre-looking food. After what I saw, I wasn¡¯t feeling too sociable, so I found a table with an unoccupied end. I thought about what I¡¯d seen so far as I ate. Glenridge High was a very small pond compared to Winslow. Even the jocks looked meaner. I was dubious about escalating things like I¡¯d resorted to at Glenridge. The stakes seemed a lot higher if push came to shove. While my death came from fighting Sen Arashi, not anyone in high school, it still destroyed any faith in my own immortality. On the other hand, people also seemed to mind their own business a lot more. If you weren¡¯t one of their in-group¡¯s designated targets.


    Keeping your head down seemed to be a valuable survival skill here. It rankled mightily.


    I kept an eye out as I ate, but pariah-girl never showed up. She ducked into the Art room right as the third-period bell rang. I noticed an athletic black girl sitting near the door glaring at her as she passed. As the teacher, Mrs. Horn did her introduction, I realized that this was more of an eclectic elective, featuring segments on different mediums. It sounded kind of interesting. I hadn¡¯t done any art classes since primary school, but this survey course was a requirement for my diploma. After the lecture was a short slide show presenting student projects from previous years. Some of them were impressive.


    As the class let out to head to the final period, the black girl slowly packed up her stuff. As I stood up, I noticed she wore a t-shirt that said, ¡°Winslow Wasps Track and Field¡±. The weird girl eyed her warily as she shuffled hesitantly past. The jock stood up from her desk abruptly and shoulder-checked the taller girl and snarled ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going Hebert!¡± as she shoved her aside. Was that her last name? I couldn¡¯t remember from the roll call this morning. Hebert¡¯s thigh smacked into a desk with a painful-sounding thump. She stumbled a bit, so I steadied her arm.


    She flinched back and eyed me warily. The eyes behind the glasses were full of suspicion. I shrugged and smiled as innocently as I could, which probably wasn¡¯t much to be honest. She may have given me an imperceptible nod and then left the classroom. Once upon a time I might have considered her rude. But with a pang, I recalled how suspicious Karen had been when I first proposed the deal. She¡¯d been pretty skittish when I offered to trade protection for tutoring. Hebert¡¯s reaction was far worse. How bad has it been for her? The girl left and I slowed my steps as I followed her out into the hallway and headed toward my locker.


    The fourth and last class of the day was Math with Mr. Quinlan. The Hebert girl was sitting in the far back corner, huddled in a worn hoody that might have been a bit warm for the weather. She had the textbook open on her desk.


    Near the center of the room sat a very attractive curvy redhead. The length of the legs folded under her desk suggested she¡¯d be fairly tall when standing. She seemed to have freshly applied makeup, and her hair looked flawless. She also seemed as out of place as a rose in a pigsty. A couple of not-quite-as-nicely dressed girls sat on either side. They carried on a whispered conversation I couldn¡¯t make out, punctuated by frequent glances at the back corner where the girl in the hoodie sat. I don¡¯t think I needed to hear what they were saying.


    Then one of the followers glanced in my direction. She whispered to the others, and then they did the worst ever job of glancing at me without seeming to. The whispering sped up. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out that they were checking me out. Look, false modesty aside, I knew I was objectively attractive. I¡¯m pushing six feet, on the wiry side instead of gangling, with blue eyes and black hair tinged with red. And I lucked out with the acne fairy again, so my skin was clear. But it was just a fact, like the sky being blue, my looks did not inform my every waking moment like it seemed to do for others. Maybe that¡¯s easier for me to think because I don¡¯t have any major flaws to obsess over. I might suggest that it was because I was more mature, but I knew that was a crock of shit.


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    It didn¡¯t hurt that none of my friends in Glenridge had looked like runway models. But they had it where it mattered. I scowled, thinking about how things had turned out when Mr. Quinlan walked in. He didn¡¯t stumble in, but he maintained the slow, cautious pace of the dedicated day-drinker. I literally got a whiff of whatever he¡¯d been drinking as he passed my desk heading for the front of the classroom. Cheap stuff.


    Quinlan started off all right, going over the syllabus and course objectives. I focused on note taking and trying to ignore the redhead and her cronies as they tried to catch my eye. After a while, the teacher¡¯s voice slowed down and faltered. Halfway through the class period, he handed out a skills assessment for us to fill out. I¡¯d already done this earlier in the Summer, but I didn¡¯t think that really mattered. It seemed like he was just looking to run out the clock. The other students seemed unsurprised as they packed up their books and papers ten minutes early.


    When the bell rang the three girls got up and sauntered over. ¡°I¡¯m Emma Barnes,¡± the redhead introduced herself with a confident smile. ¡°This is Chloe and Patricia. And you are?¡± I wondered if her full name was significant in some way as I answered, ¡°Rhiyen Conner.¡±


    ¡°Are you new to Winslow?¡± Chloe asked.


    I nodded. ¡°Just transferred this fall,¡± I replied.


    ¡°We were pretty sure we¡¯d have remembered you if you were attending last year,¡± Emma reasoned. Her eyes narrowed at the hoodie girl, Hebert, as she detoured around us toward the door. ¡°Some people stand out a lot more than others.¡±


    ¡°I guess you are right,¡± I agreed. I supposed it was a compliment of sorts. ¡°But I need to make sure I catch the bus, so if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± The girls glanced at each other, and at Emma, but moved aside a little so I could leave the room. I ignored the whispers rising behind me.


    I made a quick stop at my locker before heading out. I noticed Hebert was doing the same nearby. She had little wasted motion as she finished up and closed it. I wondered why she was in such a hurry. Were the bus drivers super strict about leaving on time?


    I sped up and made it outside before most of the students and saw Hebert walking away toward a city bus stop. I had to head toward a different one to get on the route to the Landry¡¯s house. The ride was boring, but at least it was quiet. Winslow was a lot different than Glenridge High School. The gangs were a big difference. At Glenridge, as a senior I beat up some football players to draw a line in the sand and make them leave me alone. Making myself a target like that here would be irresistible to the gangers attending Winslow. And they ultimately had the backing of capes. I might be a little stronger and faster than normal, but that would just make me a minor inconvenience. Best to keep my head down if I want it to stay attached.


    The bus reached my stop, and I arrived home before Jared and the others. I suspected he was meeting with friends after school. I got to work on the chores I¡¯d been assigned on the chart in the kitchen. The Landry¡¯s were still at work and wouldn¡¯t be home until dinner time or later. After the laundry was run and sorted, I hit the kitchen and made a package of mac and cheese. My appetite was strong, and they¡¯d given me a hard time about it at first. After threatening to have me checked for a tapeworm, I agreed to use some of my summer wages to buy cheap bulk foods for me to supplement the regular meals. It wasn¡¯t strictly kosher, but I knew if they stopped showing a net profit from my presence I would be out of there. Mac and cheese made with water wasn¡¯t the greatest, so I spiked it with a little of the communal milk jug.


    After polishing off my afternoon snack, I started reading ahead in the textbooks I¡¯d brought home. I felt a pang as I remembered that I wouldn¡¯t have Karen around to remind me to keep up. So, I decided to get ahead instead. Maybe somewhere she was having a laugh at me too.


    *O*O*


    The next day at roll call I found out that Hebert¡¯s first name was Taylor. I still had no idea why she was being harassed so much though. Through the randomness of class assignments, I saw her in every class except lunch period and I never saw her start anything with anybody. She just kept her head down and tried to avoid people as much as possible. It was stirring up some ugly memories for me. Karen¡¯s and Howard¡¯s bullies were a lot less subtle, but what I was seeing seemed just as nasty. Maybe girl bullying was different. I wasn¡¯t sure, but I knew I didn¡¯t like it. I¡¯m not much of a poker player, so I guess my scowl was visible. People began to give me odd looks.


    That still didn¡¯t stop Emma Barnes from trying to chat me up in Math after Mr. Quinlan ran out of gas every afternoon. She and her friends started coming in right as the bell rang so they could sit near me. I stayed quiet and tried to focus on the lecture as much as possible, but she just bides her time before trying to draw me out. She was attractive, and my libido didn¡¯t mind her proximity, but I got a sense that she was not serious. She just wasn¡¯t used to being told no. When she wasn¡¯t hinting that we should get to know each other better, she and her lackeys were making snide remarks about Hebert, which was a turn off. What the hell did she have against the girl?


    Unfortunately, when I tried to ask Hebert about it, she was skittish as hell. She kept her head down and looked away when I asked, but I saw a flash of suspicion in her eyes. She saw something over my shoulder, then turned and walked away. I looked around and saw Emma smirking in this direction and speaking to her sycophants. Great, I groused. Did she think I was running a scam for Barnes?


    The bullying seemed to have three ringleaders: Sophia Hess, who was in Art class, Madison Clements in World Affairs, and Emma Barnes in Math. There were other girls involved, especially friends of Barnes, but those three seemed to be the most active. They usually sat together when I saw them in the lunchroom. I began trying to subtly interfere in their crap. I¡¯d linger in the vicinity when they tried to get Taylor alone. I ¡°noticed¡± after Madison had collected everyone¡¯s homework assignments that Taylor¡¯s had ¡°somehow fallen in the trash¡±, which earned me a scowl from the tiny twit. But I had a feeling that they were just having to adjust to work around me. Despite minor victories, Taylor still looked beaten down and avoided me when possible.


    I really began to loathe all this mean girl crap, and the urge to beat the hell out of them if they didn¡¯t stop was strong. However, I knew I¡¯d just end up in jail. They had plenty of friends willing to lie on their behalf, and I was bigger and male ¨C the optics were awful. But other people noticed my frustration.


    I¡¯d followed at a distance down the stairs, trailing behind to see if anyone made a move on Taylor without being close enough to spook the girl. Sophia Hess emerged from the crowd passing in the hall below as Taylor neared the bottom. They passed each other on the second step from the bottom and suddenly Taylor tripped and went flying forward. Several students laughed as she crashed to the ground, backpack coming off one shoulder, with an audible grunt as her lungs emptied. One of the track team gave the ascending Sophia a low-five.I felt my hands ball into fists as someone else¡¯s hand closed on my shoulder. I looked back as I spun, taking another step down. A medium-sized guy with blond hair and green eyes wearing jeans, a polo shirt, and a windbreaker raised his open hands in front of his chest. ¡°Peace, just wanted to talk.¡±


    ¡°Okay, give me a second.¡± I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, but Taylor was evidently all right because she picked up her bag and moved off into the hall as I arrived. She was looking down, but I could see her cheeks burning with embarrassment.


    The guy caught up to me and nodded toward the bathroom. I followed warily. The break between classes was winding down, so the two people in there left right after we walked in. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s talk.¡±


    The guy smiled. ¡°My name¡¯s Eric.¡±


    ¡°Rhiyen,¡± I replied.


    ¡°I heard about that. Weird spelling?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Welsh,¡± I repeated the lie. ¡°Is there a point to this?¡±


    ¡°Me and my friends, we notice things,¡± he said. ¡°You seem to be picking up on some of the crap that goes on here at Winslow. You look like you want to do something about it.¡±


    I went still. ¡°Crap like?¡±


    ¡°Like that nigger Hess getting away with picking on that girl just because she¡¯s on the track team and wins lots of medals.¡±


    My mind screeched to a halt. Really? ¡°Are you trying to recruit for the fucking Empire?¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± he said, taking a step back. ¡°White people need to look out for each other, or no one else will. You can see that here. Right-thinking people got to come together; Kaiser has the vision to make it happen.¡±


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. ¡°Just¡­ no. One of my best friends before I came here was a black guy. Smartest, bravest son of a bitch I¡¯ve ever met. Lost his hand like Tyr fighting a real monster. If you don¡¯t get the reference, look it up. After you go away.¡±


    Eric frowned but took another step back. ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I am,¡± I said. ¡°Why haven¡¯t ¡°right-thinking people¡± done anything to stop the bullshit? Why aren¡¯t you helping her directly? Or at least running interference?¡±


    ¡°We offered. She wasn¡¯t interested.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like she had the right idea. Stay far away from me from now on.¡±


    Eric¡¯s frown turned ugly. ¡°You¡¯ll be sorry, nigger-lover,¡± he spat. But he left, nonetheless.


    *O*O*


    Taylor made her way down the hall to Mr. Quinlan¡¯s room. Her knees and elbow ached from the fall, but she tried not to let it show. To not give Sophia the satisfaction of knowing she was hurt.


    She suppressed a sigh. It always hurts. Even worse, she¡¯d looked like an idiot in front of the new guy, Rhiyen. Of course, nobody intervened. Either they smirked along with Sophia or pretended to look away as if it didn¡¯t happen, all the better to avoid negative attention on themselves. Standing up to see him coming down the stairs was the added sauce to the humiliation pasta that Sophia served up.


    She shuffled into Math right before the bell and headed to the back of the room. She knew better than to sit in here with her back exposed. It wasn¡¯t safe. It wasn¡¯t like Mr. Quinlan had a lot to say, he just read from the textbook. So, she stayed ahead on that and did the homework problems on her own after his voice dwindled to mumbles.


    Up ahead of her, she noted the position of Emma and her friends. It still hurt, knowing that she used to be one of them, but those days were long gone. They were again sitting next to the new guy, Rhiyen. She grimaced. It wouldn¡¯t be long before she had him eating out of her hand. With her looks and charm, what Emma wanted, she got.


    She couldn¡¯t help but notice the new guy in their year and it seemed that Emma had latched on to him quickly, talking to him again. He was hard to miss, tall, good-looking, with black hair and blue eyes. He seemed to be keeping up with the schoolwork, which was more than she could say about Emma¡¯s usual taste in guys.


    He looked in her direction as she sat down and scowled. She wasn¡¯t sure why, but his face clouded over more often lately. She wondered if he was annoyed at her presence. He was in all of her classes, so it¡¯s not like she could avoid him if that was the issue. Yet another thing to worry about, when she had a plate full already.


    She watched the muscles of his shoulders moving under the fabric of his t-shirt as he lifted his backpack. She had noticed his waist was slim and he walked on the balls of his feet, as if ready to leap into action. That tense readiness he stalked around with made her anxious.


    When Gladly assigned Madison, as one of his favorites, to collect their homework essays, her heart sunk. She knew her paper had a poor chance of actually making it to the teacher¡¯s desk. Madison collected hers with a smirk and put it on the bottom of the stack. Taylor started to protest, but she knew it was useless. But Rhiyen spoke up from where he was sitting, walked over to the trash can and pulled out her paper. His words were very mild, ¡°I think one of the papers may have slid free from the stack.¡± It didn¡¯t call anyone quite out, but at least her grade was saved. She¡¯d wondered what kind of angle he was playing.


    When he walked up to her between class periods, touching her shoulder to get her attention, the unexpected contact made her feel like someone had plucked a guitar string that ran from the top of her head down through the middle of her body. She was glad for the long sleeves of her top as goosebumps prickled on her arms.


    He asked her why she was being bullied. She had to suppress a spark of anger. How could she answer that when she had no idea why? Still, he looked sincerely concerned. She always felt so awkward when she didn¡¯t know what to say. So she defaulted to going still and quiet, hoping someone else would break the silence. She heard tittering behind him, then looked past him to see Emma and the others watching. Were they enjoying her embarrassment or¡­?


    Then it hit her like a thunderbolt. This was another setup. Like last year. Three separate times Emma had talked a cute boy into talking to her, gaining her confidence a little. Then, boom, another betrayal. The first time had been the worst. After Henry and Emma openly mocked her and repeated back things she¡¯d told him privately, she¡¯d gone home and called out sick for two days in a row. The third time that year she¡¯d been expecting it ¨C Emma had just gotten better at covering her tracks.


    She turned away then. No one was going to help her. Her father was too wrapped up in his grief. She couldn¡¯t bear to make things harder for him. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. It always caught her off guard, just how much she missed her mother. She¡¯d give anything to have a thirty-minute phone call with her, right this moment. She didn¡¯t have the slightest doubt that her mother could have made sense of everything, put things into terms so simple that working it out looked easy. She shook her head, blinking back tears in her eyes, and took a deep breath as she moved forward down the hall. She was all alone.


    *O*O*


    ¡°So what¡¯s up with you?¡± Jared asked as I walked through the door. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading over what looked like a Senior math book. It appears he went straight home after school to study. I¡¯d gotten off the bus a few blocks early to try and walk off my bad mood. Emphasis on the word ¡°try¡±.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked warily. There were a lot of things up with me ¨C few of them good.


    ¡°Seniors don¡¯t pay a lot of attention to Sophomore Drama,¡± he said. ¡°But you¡¯ve been stalking around Winslow like someone killed your dog. People notice. Some of them who know about our living situation ask me. Personally, I think they just want to start a betting pool.¡±


    I blinked. Okay. ¡°Well, there¡¯s some nasty bullying crap going on against a girl in my classes. Makes me sick.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I think I heard about that. Mean girls are vicious as hell. Guys just do a punch-up and it¡¯s all over.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°This is way past that. It¡¯s relentless, every damn day, usually multiple times.¡±


    ¡°And if you step in,¡± Jared added, ¡°they make you look like a psycho. I never get involved in that girl-on-girl crap. It¡¯s a lose-lose scenario from the start.¡± He took a sip of ice water. The Landrys were not going to splurge on coke when the water faucet was cheaper.


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you are wrong, but that¡¯s not right. It¡¯s also frustrating as hell.¡±


    Jared shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Winslow¡¯s the bottom of the barrel for a reason. The teachers play favorites every day. Track team is one of the few successful things going on there, so they get away with a lot. The track coach is a real piece of work. I used to do shot-put until I destroyed my shoulder last year.Doc says I was doing it wrong all along, coach never said anything. He just cut me from the roster as soon as he heard.¡±


    I winced. ¡°So, I guess you know first-hand?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say that I never had any problems keeping my grades up until I was off the team.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the second person to tell me about that today,¡± I said ruefully.


    ¡°Oh, who was the first?¡± Jared asked. He picked up his water and I waited to answer until he was drinking.


    ¡°The guy trying to recruit me for Empire Eighty-Eight,¡± I said casually. Jared spewed water all over the table and some out his nose. Good thing he wasn¡¯t drinking something carbonated.


    He scowled at me as he wiped off his textbook. ¡°That¡¯s not funny,¡± he growled.


    ¡°I¡¯m not joking, he thought I¡¯d be more amenable after watching Sophia Hess trip Hebert down some stairs.


    ¡°You better have told them to fuck off,¡± Jared glared.


    ¡°Oh no, I joined immediately,¡± I said in a deadpan monotone. ¡°And then I came back to tell you about it because it has escaped my attention that you are, indeed, black. I just thought you had a really good tan. Shock and horror have consumed my soul.¡±


    Jared took a deep breath in through his nose. I think he was less angry at me so much as trying not to laugh. ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Seriously, I told him to take a flying leap. But I could see dumb kids, or those under a lot of harassment, falling for that line of bullshit. Protection is one of the reasons people join gangs, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s still not a reason to become a racist Nazi,¡± Jared grated.


    ¡°Note that I said, ¡°dumb kids¡±, not ¡°smart kids¡±. According to Eric the Stealth-Nazi, they offered protection to Taylor and she flat turned them down. Drowning people will also pull under lifeguards if they panic enough. Either way, I wonder if Sophia has any idea that Kaiser owes her a fruit-basket for the recruiting assistance.¡±


    ¡°Do you think she even cares?¡±


    I shook my head and sat down on the opposite side of the table and opened my backpack.


    *O*O*


    Days turned into weeks as the fall passed. The coursework at Winslow wasn¡¯t that difficult, which is a good thing because most of the teachers were awful. Mrs. Knott was the only one who seemed to know what she was doing. She still had to split her classes up into serious students that worked on their own, and mouth breathers that had to be constantly entertained. Stubborn pride wouldn¡¯t allow me to coast with the latter group.


    World Affairs should have been more interesting, given my lack of knowledge of this world. After all, I spent most of the summer trying to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. But Mr. Gladly was kind of a joke. He spent so much time palling around with his favorite students that any focus on the subject matter went out the window. The endless group projects were annoying, but I took the opportunity to join Taylor¡¯s group. She normally ended up with Greg Veder and Sparky the doper. I knew from Computer Class that Hebert was at least putting some effort into her classes, so I asked to join her group before Sparky even realized that nap time was over. She looked startled when I asked, but quickly nodded. So, I ended up with her and Greg, and sometimes Sparky if the groups needed to be larger.


    The doper was an intellectual non-entity, but oh my God was Greg annoying. Take Howard at his jealous and petty worst, then stir in some inability to stay on topic and an obsession regarding talking about whatever he¡¯s been looking at online. How Taylor could stand him was a testament to her patience. He frequently tested my patience when I had to steer him back onto whatever topic we were supposed to be studying. But he occasionally brought up interesting facts and he wasn¡¯t nasty to Taylor, so I can guess why she tolerated him.


    Taylor herself was a little stiff when I sort of bulldozed my way into her project group, but she was too polite to just say no. I¡¯m not sure what she had against me, or if it was just that I was a relative stranger since I wasn¡¯t at Winslow last year. But she eventually loosened up a little and I discovered that behind the quiet, retiring persona was an agile mind. She made connections that had to be explained to me and easily clamped down on Greg¡¯s wilder flights of fancy. This meant that I ended up sliding into the role of team representative when dealing with Mr. Gladly or other groups ¨C especially Madison¡¯s. The little bitch was incredibly annoying ¨C even more than Veder. Every damn time we split into group work (practically every day) and announced which topic we selected, Madison would claim that Taylor had overheard her group talking about it and stolen their idea. And Gladly fell for it every. Single. Damn. Time.


    When I began speaking for the group, it didn¡¯t change. Even when I waved around the notes I¡¯d taken from our brainstorming session. Madison would put on her little girl pout and whine, and we¡¯d have to scramble to come up with a new event to examine or parahuman to profile. Finally, I got sick of it and just announced something different than what the group had agreed to. Before they could protest, Madison piped up again and Gladly reassigned the selection to her group. I turned back to the group to see Greg¡¯s mouth hang open, Sparky blinking blearily at me, and Taylor giving me a small half-smile. After a whispered consultation, I turned back to Gladly and announced our original pick.


    Art was interesting. A lot of the material was new to me, but at least Mrs. Horn graded on classroom participation and effort. If we were evaluated on skill alone, I was doomed to fail. Sophia Hess was in there, along with Taylor, so every day had some sort of low-key physical altercation. Or more accurately, Sophia managed to elbow, shoulder-check, or step on Taylor¡¯s feet. Taylor tried to avoid her. A couple of times I was able to walk through and disrupt things, but between Taylor shying away from me and Sophia¡¯s friends hemming her in, Hess usually managed to hit Hebert coming or going. I really didn¡¯t know her plan. Was she trying to drive Hebert out of Winslow? Or was she just a sadist, getting her thrills?


    Hebert was always just in time for the bell to Mr. Quinlan¡¯s math class. She¡¯d always sit in a back corner away from everyone else. Madison and her lackeys came in just after the bell and Quinlan never bothered them at all. I didn¡¯t know if it was favoritism or inebriation. But they tended to take a seat in the middle, near me. I wish I¡¯d been a bit ruder that first day. Maybe then they would have gotten the hint. But instead, the flirting and sniping continued. I wasn¡¯t sure why Emma seemed to fixate on me; I¡¯m not that attractive. Maybe it was because I actually had the temerity to say no?


    And in the hallways between classes the Hebert harassment campaign never let up.

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    Computer class was one of the few classes Taylor didn¡¯t dread. The trio weren¡¯t in this class, for one. Most people were learning basics, like typing without looking at the keyboard. A smaller group moved forward into the more advanced stream. Rhiyen, Taylor, and a few others started on basic programming. Last week, they had learned about spreadsheets. She finished the lesson early, let her head hang forward so her hair covered her face, and enjoyed a moment of quiet.


    She jumped and hissed in surprise as something thumped hard against the back of her chair, just as the bell rang. She shoved her hair to the side, flinching a little. A backpack swung near and she realized it must have bumped her chair as Rhiyen made his way down the aisle.


    Had she fallen asleep to the quiet clacking of keys? That wasn¡¯t like her, especially not at school. It wasn¡¯t safe. She had to keep reminding herself of that, even when she was just¡­ tired. She was tired of having to watch her back at all times. It would be too easy to relax, then get punished for dropping her constant vigilance. The trio had been stymied in some attempts to make her life more miserable. Normally, that would make her even more anxious about how they would escalate, but somehow, she felt a little more secure. Recently, she had even started to enjoy World Affairs. Despite Mr. Gladly¡¯s obvious efforts at favoritism, he did try to cover the basic coursework.


    Rhiyen surprised her by joining her group, with Sparky and Greg. She froze when he asked, unsure what to say. Even stranger, he worked on the project with her, occasionally guiding chatty Greg back on topic with a snarky comment here and there. Madison was still her annoying self, sulking at Mr. Gladly until he gave her group the topic that Taylor was interested in, but that was nothing different.


    The next day, to her utter surprise, Rhiyen outmaneuvered Madison cleverly, announcing a decoy topic that Madison insisted should be her group¡¯s,  then grudgingly accepting their ¡°second choice¡±, which was the actual one their group wanted. Taylor had to stifle a grin when Madison threw her a smug smirk over her shoulder. Greg had stopped talking for three minutes straight, staring at Rhiyen in shock.


    She couldn¡¯t help but admire his resourcefulness, then shook herself out of such thoughts. There was no time for that, and she had to watch for the inevitable betrayal. After all, Emma was still talking to Rhiyen every day, so she knew there must be some plot afoot. But in the meantime, why not enjoy the little victories while they lasted?


    It would be so easy to fall into the trap of getting even with the trio someday. Sophia was strong and fast, but Emma and Madison were ordinary when it came to a shoving match. She knew from experience that she could wrestle Emma to the ground if she had to, as long as Sophia wasn¡¯t within reach. The thought of the times they had played together hurt. Simpler times. She knew if she thought about it, she could come up with ways to get back at them. Give the trio their just desserts and make them regret what they had put her through. Except she was better than that.


    The thought of her father¡¯s disappointment, his shame at the news she got into a fight at school? That was more daunting, but it still didn¡¯t outweigh the anger and frustration. Even worse would be watching his expression of bewildered defeat. After her mother died, he had spiraled hard and only recently seemed to be coming out of it. She didn¡¯t want to send him down into the darkness again.


    In art class, she listened intently as Mrs. Horn reminisced about some of the work she¡¯d done in her ¡°starving artist¡± days. Taylor was suddenly inspired when her teacher mentioned cleaning and sanitizing musical instruments for a repair shop. After class, she shyly asked if Mrs. Horn could give her suggestions for cleaning her mother¡¯s flute. Her teacher agreed and asked her to bring it in for a quick inspection. Taylor felt guilty every time she looked at it since it started to tarnish. She sighed as she headed out of art class. It was just one more thing that hadn¡¯t been the same since Mom died.


    *O*O*


    I¡¯d become attuned to the behavior of my classmates at Winslow, so it was obvious when it changed. One morning, as I was visiting my locker before classes started, I noticed Taylor acting furtive as she retrieved her books. From the corner of my eye, I saw her place something long and thin, wrapped in cloth, inside her locker. When she closed it, I saw her triple-check the lock to make sure it was seated properly and engaged. With a final tug on the hasp, she shouldered her backpack and turned towards me. I gave her what I thought was a friendly nod, but she glanced away.


    Taylor looked nervous all through computers and world affairs. Wonder of wonders, Mr. Gladly actually had a lecture on the structure and duties of the State Department prepared. Figuring this was a big deal for him, I tried to take comprehensive notes. Oddly enough, I didn¡¯t see other people picking up on this. So, it may have just been wasted effort on my part. Taylor seemed distracted there as well and took sparse notes. I began to wonder what she was up to. That parcel didn¡¯t look like a gun. Maybe a long thin knife? Lord knows I wouldn¡¯t exactly blame her at this point, but that seemed out of character from what I¡¯d seen.


    Hebert pulled her usual disappearing act at lunch time. I¡¯d thought once or twice about following her to see where she went, but I didn¡¯t want her thinking I was stalking her or something. Satisfying my curiosity wasn¡¯t worth it.


    However, toward the end of the period, Taylor made a rare appearance in the lunchroom. She walked up to Emma and spoke quietly. I couldn¡¯t hear their conversation from where I was sitting, even when I stopped chewing. There was too much background noise. Taylor spoke more, with quiet intensity. Emma¡¯s replies seemed flippant but calculated. I could see Taylor¡¯s demeanor crack once, then she lost composure at something Emma said. After a short reply, she walked out again, leaving me wondering what was said and done. Losing my appetite, I soon dumped my tray and stacked it with the others.


    I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised to see Taylor was not in Art class. Mrs. Horn looked around when her name came up on roll call and no one answered. Sophia, who¡¯d wandered in late said something to her friend that had them both laughing quietly. I resisted the urge to interrogate them on what was so frigging funny. I hate being out of the loop, especially when I suspect something bad is going down. One Glenridge was enough. At the end of the period, Hess shot out of there with the bell. It¡¯s not like I even knew enough to confront her.


    Taylor was a no-show for Math as well. I watched the door as the bell rang, hoping she¡¯d dash in late. When she didn¡¯t, the heavy feeling in my stomach intensified. This girl had perfect attendance. Of course, Emma, Chloe, and Patricia sat near me again. At least they stayed quiet while Quinlan began reading from the book. When we hit the hour mark, he assigned homework problems from the textbook. As he sat down in his chair and blinked a few times, Emma started her normal patter, but I cut her off this time.


    ¡°What did you say to Hebert at lunch?¡± I asked bluntly.


    ¡°Oh, you saw that did you?¡± she smiled. ¡°The sheep finally showed up in the light of day. Seems like she brought something¡­ important... to school and forgot to lock her locker. And then it disappeared, and she tried to blame me for her stupidity.¡± She laughed and the other two girls joined in.


    ¡°Bullshit.¡± I said coolly. ¡°My locker is near hers, and I noticed her locking it down like Fort Knox and checking it multiple times.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Emma drawled. ¡°She must have done something wrong. Why do you care about that loser anyway?¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said. ¡°You really are vile, aren¡¯t you?¡± With that, I slammed my textbook shut, shoved everything into my backpack, and stood up. Quinlan didn¡¯t even acknowledge me as I left the classroom. I glanced back. Emma¡¯s mouth had finally closed, but two spots of red appeared on her pale cheeks.


    I swapped out my books at my locker. I glanced over at Taylor¡¯s locker. It was closed securely. I was tempted to pull on the lock, but I didn¡¯t want to smear any potential fingerprints. I checked around the third floor, paying attention to any out of the way spaces. I finished up the second floor by the time the last bell rang. There weren¡¯t as many places I could think of to be alone on the first floor. I decided to take a quick look around the outside of the empty school before I headed toward the bus stop. I found her near the service entrance, as my nose was coping with a myriad of rancid smells.


    I heard the stifled sobbing before I rounded the corner of the dumpster. Taylor sat on the asphalt. In front of her lay what looked like a musical instrument, but it was battered and dented, bent almost in two, keys destroyed, and smeared with a brown substance I didn¡¯t need to smell to identify.


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± I swore. ¡°What the hell happened to it?¡±


    Taylor, clearly sunk in her misery, started violently at the sound of my voice. ¡°It was my mother¡¯s,¡± she said haltingly. ¡°My father gave it to me after she died, so I¡¯d have something of hers.¡± Her voice trailed off at the end, and her head hunched down almost like she was expecting a blow.


    Oh crap, this was awful. I knelt next to her. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I began as I carefully placed a hand on her shoulder. At the contact, she flinched a little. I kept my hand steady but didn¡¯t remove it. Then she turned and pressed her face against my chest as she wrapped her arms around my back. Her crying intensified as her whole body shook with the force of it. I wrapped my arms around her to steady her as she wept.


    Goddamn, I thought as I held her, they finally broke her down. Shit. I didn¡¯t have a lot of experience dealing with crying women or comforting at all. Karen had broken down that one time I was hurt, remembering her brother¡¯s death. Suffering wasn¡¯t a competitive sport, but Karen had two parents that cared about her. I shied away from thinking how they¡¯d mourn her after we both died in Glenridge.


    Taylor seemed more alone. I tentatively rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. I felt her tears soak through the front of my shirt. I made inane comforting sounds, trying to make sense of my own head. Doing this felt¡­ good, in some hard to define way. Maybe it was because I was doing the right thing. Maybe it was because I¡¯d finally found a way to help.


    Eventually, the sobbing eased. By that time, I had maneuvered into a sitting position on the asphalt. Taylor¡¯s weight rested on my lap with her long legs stretched out to the side. For all her height, she felt light as a feather, as if the crying had diminished her in some way. I tightened my arms around her a little at the unsettling thought.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she mumbled.


    I leaned my neck forward. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I whispered. Her hair smelled¡­ interesting. ¡°Looks like you needed that.¡±


    She shuddered and pulled back. I took the hint and opened my arms. She blinked and looked at my chest with guilty dismay. ¡°Sorry about your shirt,¡± she said, indicating where it had been soaked.


    ¡°It¡¯ll air dry,¡± I reminded her.


    She nodded and then glanced at the flute and winced. ¡°What do I do now?¡± she whispered almost to herself. ¡°Dad is going to be so disappointed.¡±


    ¡°Barnes knows something,¡± I said. ¡°She practically bragged to me about it when I asked what happened at lunch. I know for a fact you locked everything down securely. I saw it from five feet away this morning.¡±


    ¡°The teachers won¡¯t do anything,¡± Taylor said in a dull voice. ¡°No matter how many times I¡¯ve complained, nothing ever happens to them. I stopped bothering after a while. All it made them do was escalate.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I said, recalling the ringleaders I¡¯d picked out, ¡°Barnes, Clements, and Hess?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°It started at the beginning of last year and never stopped. I thought over the summer they¡¯d get bored and lose interest.¡± She shook her head, her hair rustling over her shoulders. ¡°I just got nasty emails over the summer, but as soon as we were back in school¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I saw,¡± I said. ¡°So maybe we need to go to the cops?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Taylor asked, sounding a little confused. With the day she was having, I wasn¡¯t surprised.


    ¡°That,¡± I gestured toward the defiled instrument, ¡°is at least malicious property damage, if not outright theft. Hopefully, whatever¡¯s wrong with Winslow doesn¡¯t extend to the Brockton Bay Police Department.¡±


    She nodded, and then winced. ¡°We¡¯ll have to get my dad involved if we do that.¡± I could see her lips visibly thinning.


    ¡°Is that a problem?¡± I asked warily. If he was abusing her too¡­


    ¡°No. I mean,¡± she paused for a moment, seeming to weigh her words. ¡°Mom¡¯s death hit him hard. Really hard. He hasn¡¯t really been the same since then. I didn¡¯t want to¡­ burden¡­ him, you know? I wanted to handle this on my own. I thought they¡¯d get tired after a while and stop.¡±


    ¡°But they didn¡¯t,¡± I added.


    ¡°No. They didn¡¯t,¡± she admitted, looking up to meet my gaze. Her eyes behind her glasses looked so tired and defeated.


    I swallowed and then reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ¡°So now we escalate. I understand that you aren¡¯t sure if your dad can handle this, but you¡¯ve been leaving him out of it so far. Give him a chance to step up, and if he doesn¡¯t, at least you¡¯ll know, right?¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I want to confirm that I¡¯m alone,¡± she whispered.


    She looked so¡­ desolate. This crap has been going on since the start of last year. Constantly. ¡°You¡¯re not. I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± I said, the words coming unbidden, but all the truer. No one that resilient deserved to stand alone.


    Taylor thought about this for a moment and nodded. ¡°I guess we need to bring the flute home now.¡± She made a face.


    I glanced over at the crap-covered mess. ¡°School is closed now. Let me take a look in the dumpster.¡±


    I sprang to my feet and grabbed the lip of the dumpster and pulled myself up. Amongst the large bags of kitchen waste, I saw a smaller white trash bag that looked like it came from the copy room. Swinging a leg over, I leaned over and managed to snag it. Pulling open the top, I poured out most of the papers and then dropped it down outside. Then I swung my leg back over and jumped down.


    Taylor was just standing up, moving a little stiffly and gaping at my performance. I pulled the last sheaf of papers out of the plastic bag and used them to pick up the besmeared flute and place it inside the bag. Then I wrapped it securely around the instrument and presented it to Taylor. ¡°Put that in your backpack on top of your books and it should be okay to get it home.¡±


    She did so, shaking her head a little ruefully.


    ¡°Do you want a friendly witness when you explain to your dad?¡±


    She shook her head but stopped almost immediately. ¡°Do you really mind?¡± she asked in a whisper.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing better to do,¡± I assured her.


    O*O*O


    She tried so hard, but in the end, it didn¡¯t even matter. That morning, she wrapped her mother¡¯s flute in one of her father¡¯s handkerchiefs and nestled it between some clothes in her backpack. It was something her mother left her, something her mother played often to cheer her up, that her father had given to her to remember her by. Lately, she had neglected polishing it and the flute had started to tarnish, but Mrs. Horn was going to give her a quote on restoring it.


    She was sure that she had secured her locker, and checked three times before walking away, but when she stopped by during lunch to retrieve it, the flute was gone. Emotion clawed up her throat, constricting her breathing, as she emptied the locker, trying to find the missing instrument. It was gone. How?


    She visited the cafeteria and confronted Emma, hoping that she could get some clue as to what had happened to it. That was a waste of time. Emma mocked her for bringing something valuable. But she guessed from Emma¡¯s reaction, that Emma didn¡¯t know where it was. If she did, she would have taunted her. A lump of emotion filled her throat, one part fear and two parts anger, as she looked for Sophia, checking the restrooms when she wasn¡¯t in the halls. It kept swelling until she couldn¡¯t swallow it down.


    Sophia found her, slamming a shoulder into hers as Taylor came out of the last restroom. Sophia smirked as Taylor staggered back against the door jamb, and told her, ¡°You¡¯d think trash like you would know where it belongs, in the dumpster.¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond but turned and ran as hard and fast as she could. Her feet pounded down the stairs. She roughly pushed past other students who were laughing and talking near the service entrance. The dumpsters were close by, and the smell of rotten food hit her before she saw them. Then, she saw it.


    Her mother¡¯s flute was almost unrecognizable. The mouthpiece and tubing was smeared with something dark brown, completely coating the previously silvery metal. Several keys were flattened and broken off entirely, scattered around it. As Taylor sank to the ground next to the instrument, holding her face in her hands, a memory surfaced, her mother playing a jaunty melody when she couldn¡¯t sleep due to a childish nightmare, a smile on her face. She couldn¡¯t imagine anyone wanting to play it now. She tried to keep everything inside, but it all fell apart. Tears flowed down her face, sobs wracked through her chest, as the loss hit her hard. She¡¯d never hear her mother play it again. She knew that, but it didn¡¯t get any easier. This¡­ this was too much.


    She didn¡¯t know how long she sat there, but when Rhiyen found her, his horrified expression eroded the suspicion she¡¯d kept stoking, expecting that Emma would engineer another betrayal. He was too sincere to be faking it. When his voice broke with sorrow, she turned into his shoulder and held on to him like she was drowning.


    All the pain, sadness, and anger flooded her, and she let it flow, stopped caring if anyone was watching. It hurt to let the emotions out, but one by one, the walls fell in her fortress of solitude. She hadn¡¯t been held like this since Emma comforted her after her mother¡¯s death. She couldn¡¯t stop crying. She buried her face against his chest and even though her nose was clogged, the smell of laundry soap in his clothes was oddly soothing.


    Eventually, the heaviness in her heart eased and she came back to herself, apologizing as soon as she realized he was holding her on his lap. It was strange because he didn¡¯t seem to mind. His eyes were reddened like he had also teared up. About what, she couldn¡¯t guess. When he leaned down to reply, his breath tickled against her ear. Heat flooded her chest and rose up her throat, pinking her cheeks. She couldn¡¯t take advantage of his unexpected kindness, couldn¡¯t let herself rely on his strength. What would happen if he wasn¡¯t there, moved away, stopped helping? She would be crushed.


    They talked about what to do with the flute. Rhiyen convinced her to report it to the police, which meant getting her father involved. Taylor felt dread creep through her body at the thought. Then Rhiyen¡¯s voice struck her like a bell, clearing away all the cobwebs: ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere¡±. Could she believe him? She wasn¡¯t sure, but he sounded confident.


    Then he did a sudden kip up to his feet, climbed onto the dumpster as if he¡¯d trained in parkour, and returned with a trash bag and papers to hold the flute. He moved so fluidly, with surprising agility. He didn¡¯t even break a sweat.


    O*O*O


    More time had passed than I realized as we emerged from behind the school. The shadows were lengthening across the parking lot as we made our way to the bus stops.


    Taylor consulted her wristwatch and looked concerned. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this, really. It¡¯s late, you can go home,¡± she offered.


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s all right. I¡¯d be a pretty crap friend if I left you to face the music alone.¡±


    Her eyes closed for a moment. ¡°I haven¡¯t had one of those for a long time,¡± she admitted.


    I shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re about the only person I¡¯ve met at Winslow that¡¯s worth my time,¡± I said. ¡°A man¡¯s got to have standards.¡±


    She let out a snort, then blushed a little and ducked her head. ¡°Mrs. Knott¡¯s all right,¡± she protested after a moment.


    ¡°She¡¯s about the only one,¡± I shot back. ¡°Mrs. Horn is okay, but a little unobservant. Or she just turns her eyes off when the bell rings. The rest of the teachers are bad jokes.¡± The conversation faded as we neared the bus stop that she normally took to go home. I¡¯d seen it from afar, of course. It was just as run down as the one I used. Nothing around or about Winslow was well-maintained.


    I kept an eye out as we waited in what felt like a comfortable silence. No one approached us before the bus came. I stepped on first and paused, scanning the rows of seats and I held my palm open behind my back. I didn¡¯t see any gangers or anyone that looked dangerous. I closed my hand and stepped up onto the bus. As soon as my hand closed, I heard Taylor following. We showed our bus passes, and I spotted an open pair of seats on the right. I advanced past them and turned, making an ¡®after you¡¯ gesture to Taylor. She sat down next to the window, her backpack in her lap. I sat down next to her on the aisle seat.


    ¡°What was all that?¡± she whispered as the air brakes released and the bus started forward.


    ¡°All what?¡±


    ¡°You were moving like¡­ like a bodyguard or something. Have you done that before?¡± she asked.


    At that point, I realized I¡¯d fallen back on habits I developed when Karen, Howard, and I were investigating Sen Arashi¡¯s Hengeyokai. Specifically, when we were travelling by bus and my paranoia meter was maxed out. ¡°Maybe,¡± I temporized. ¡°I was diagnosed with acute amnesia when I washed up in the bay.¡±


    Taylor¡¯s eyes widened incredulously, and I felt a stab of guilt. While what I said wasn¡¯t technically a lie, it was misleading. But the truth was too fantastical, even in a world of capes. Not to mention the strict laws against dimensional travel.  I distracted myself from indulging in angst, by scanning the other passengers and focusing on the entrance whenever the bus stopped. No one sketchy approached us or boarded the bus by the time Taylor indicated her stop had come.


    After a final look around, I led her to the front and stepped down out of the bus, glancing left and right. No one was around us, so I got out of the way and let Taylor debark. She regarded me with a little half-smile, then led the way down the street. I made sure to walk on the street side and kept my eyes constantly moving. I felt more ¡®switched on¡¯ than I¡¯d been since arriving in Brockton Bay. Had I simply been coasting all this time? What had changed?


    I glanced over at Taylor and the realization struck. I¡¯d been the same before sighting the mysterious hengeyokai at night, just getting by and not caring about much. Even the night-time explorations had been started mainly out of boredom. It wasn¡¯t until I¡¯d started making friends with Karen, and later Howard that it all felt real. When I had emotional connections to people, people who were in danger, it all became real.


    I¡¯d made little more than casual acquaintances since coming to Brockton Bay. My foster family, the Landry¡¯s, had a business relationship at best. The other fosters were all checked out or into their own things. I¡¯d only really spoken to Jared, and that was only a few times. But I did care about Taylor. Barring any bizarre revelations, she was rapidly becoming a friend.


    And there were people actively working to harm my friend.


    As I worked out why I was feeling so overprotective, Taylor pointed out a home up ahead. We turned up the path to the front porch.


    ¡°Watch the step,¡± Taylor said, as she easily skipped over it.


    I paused at the foot of the steps. ¡°Is your father home?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see his car,¡± she replied.


    ¡°I should probably just stay on the porch until he gets back then,¡± I demurred.


    Taylor looked down at me from the porch, frowning in confusion. ¡°Why would you do that?¡± she asked.


    I gave her a crooked half-smile as I pointed at myself. ¡°Teenage boy.¡± I pointed at her. ¡°Teenage girl.¡± I pointed past her. ¡°Empty house.¡±


    She winced and flushed in embarrassment. ¡°Oh. Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d just as soon not piss him off,¡± I explained. ¡°Especially right before we tell him about what happened today.¡±


    Taylor grimaced. ¡°I get it. You¡¯re right, best to stay on the porch until he knows you,¡± she agreed. ¡°Let me go call him and see if he can be home sooner.¡±


    It was well past six now. ¡°Does he work late a lot?¡± I asked lightly.


    ¡°He¡¯s the hiring manager at the Dock Workers Union,¡± she said. ¡°A lot of people depend on him.¡±


    With that, she went inside, and I sat on the edge of the porch, feet on the top step. What I could see of the house looked a little dreary. The construction seemed solid, aside from that one step, but the paint was faded and peeling a little. The neighborhood was quiet as night fell. It felt kind of peaceful, to be honest. A comfortable lower-middle class street that might have seen better days but wasn¡¯t noticeably deteriorating. There were no gang tags or other graffiti visible, unlike Winslow.


    Through the door, I faintly heard Taylor¡¯s voice. ¡°Dad, I need you to come home. Yes, it¡¯s important. Please.¡± I didn¡¯t like the way her voice broke towards the end. When she came back out and sat down next to me, her eyes were red. I didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be home soon,¡± she said.


    I nodded. ¡°Nice neighborhood,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°We¡¯ve lived here since before I was born,¡± she explained. She seemed grateful for the change of subject. I kept my eyes on the street, but I could see Taylor in my peripheral vision. She sat hunched in on herself for a while, but gradually relaxed. ¡°So where do you live?¡± she asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.


    ¡°I stay with my foster family, the Landry¡¯s, over on the west side of town,¡± I answered.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t they going to be worried about you?¡± she asked.


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s more of a financial arrangement with us. They¡¯ll just split up dinner fewer ways. I might get some leftovers ¨C it¡¯s no big deal.¡±


    Taylor pursed her lips, didn¡¯t say anything else.


    After the sun set and the streetlights came on, a pair of headlights appeared and turned into the driveway. When Taylor stood up, I knew she recognized the car behind them, an older brown sedan. I stood as well. A tall, thin, man with glasses and a receding hairline got out of the car. I could see him pause the instant he saw me. ¡°Taylor, who is this?¡± he asked warily.


    ¡°Dad, this is Rhiyen,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s a friend. Rhiyen, this is my dad, Danny Hebert,¡±


    ¡°I see. Why were you waiting on the porch?¡±


    ¡°Um, he didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be happy he was in the house without you knowing,¡± Taylor replied a little awkwardly.


    Danny nodded. ¡°Well, he got that right.¡± He resumed walking up to the porch, avoiding the bad step. ¡°Come on in, both of you. Is he why you called me to come home so quickly?¡±


    Taylor was silent as he opened the door and let us in. Once the door was closed, she spoke. ¡°Dad, I¡¯ve got some terrible news.¡±


    The moment she said that I could see the gears turn in Danny Hebert¡¯s mind. His eyes widened and his face turned an ugly mottled red color as he spun toward me. ¡°You son of a bitch!¡± he shouted, taking a step toward me.


    ¡°Daddy! What are you doing?¡± Taylor shrieked.


    I put my hands up, palms open, as I backed away from the enraged father. ¡°Taylor! He thinks you are, uh, with child!¡±


    Taylor¡¯s eyes widened more than I thought possible as her face burned scarlet. ¡°Dad! No! Are you crazy? Stop it!¡±


    Danny¡¯s angry advance stalled as his daughter¡¯s words sunk in. ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± he asked as his face paled and he seemed to deflate.


    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Taylor hissed. That seemed to take the rest of the wind out of his sails. She turned toward me. ¡°I am so sorry, Rhiyen,¡± she began.


    ¡°Hey, no worries,¡± I assured her. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll all look back on this and laugh.¡±


    If her expression was any gauge, Taylor didn¡¯t seem to find any humor in this situation, just humiliation.


    ¡°Maybe in twenty years,¡± I said with a sigh as I put my hands on her shoulders. I¡¯d have pulled her into a hug if her clearly upset father wasn¡¯t there. ¡°It¡¯s all good, I¡¯m not blaming you at all. Okay? We good?¡±


    Taylor nodded.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Danny said warily, ¡°then what is going on? Taylor, you¡¯ve never called me to come home early before.¡±


    I let go with one hand as Taylor turned to face her father but kept the other on her nearest shoulder as a sign of support. The way I could feel the muscles tensing, she needed all she could get.


    ¡°I noticed that the brass work on Mom¡¯s flute was getting a little tarnished. Our art teacher, Mrs. Horn, said she¡¯d done a lot of musical instrument restorations as a side job. I talked to her after class, and she said she¡¯d be willing to at least give me an estimate. I thought maybe we could do that for Christmas¡­¡± Taylor paused as she swallowed. Danny seemed to hang on every word as she spoke.


    ¡°I wrapped it up carefully and brought it in. I was scared to carry it around in my backpack. I didn¡¯t want it to get damaged further. So, I locked it up in my locker. I was sure I¡¯d done it up right. But when it was time for art class, it was gone.¡±


    Danny Hebert looked like he¡¯d been punched in the gut. ¡°Honey,¡± he said in a thick voice, ¡°when I gave you Annette¡¯s flute, I said you needed to take good care of it¡­¡±


    Taylor seemed to wilt at these words.


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t careless with it,¡± I said firmly. Danny seemed to blink, like he¡¯d forgotten I was there. ¡°My locker is near hers. She was being super-careful to make sure it was securely locked. I didn¡¯t know about the flute, I wondered if she had a gun or something in there¡­¡±


    Taylor turned to look at me with wide eyes.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I protested. ¡°I¡¯d hardly have blamed you, with all the stuff I¡¯d seen, and the teachers doing nothing. That the idea shocks you makes you practically a saint in my book.¡±


    ¡°Taylor,¡± Danny asked, ¡°what is he talking about?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± she said. ¡°The point is that it was gone when it shouldn¡¯t have been. I ran all over the school trying to find it, and when I did...¡± she put her backpack on the coffee table and carefully extracted the plastic-wrapped bundle. She unwrapped it enough to show what was inside. The smell was still awful.


    Danny looked absolutely lost for a moment. ¡°Who would do such a thing?¡± he asked in a choked whisper.


    ¡°Rhiyen suggested we take it to the police, and see if they can lift any fingerprints,¡± Taylor answered quickly. I opened my mouth and then closed it with a pleading look from her. Was she put off by the yelling earlier? Or how broken he looked now?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Danny said. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we bring this up with the school first?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Only if you want nothing done,¡± I finally said. Maybe Taylor didn¡¯t want to talk about the bullying for some reason, but I know she didn¡¯t want Winslow handling this. ¡°They tend to see no evil, hear no evil, and even if they did, all they could give are school penalties. That,¡± I gestured at the ruined flute, ¡°is a full-blown crime.¡±


    Danny nodded. ¡°Okay. Wrap it back up,¡± he ordered. ¡°I take it neither of you have touched it?¡±


    We both shook our heads, Taylor with a shudder.

 Chapter 3

    The local precinct of the Brockton Bay Police Department was not particularly impressive. The building was rundown with faded graffiti, and the desk sergeant that directed us looked bored and sleepy. After about forty-five minutes, Detective Searls came in to speak with us. He looked about forty, with a thick neck and short buzzed hair. His eyes and hair were both black, contrasting with pale skin. Soon, Taylor and I were filling out depositions regarding what had happened at Winslow that day. I didn¡¯t have the best feeling regarding the detective. He seemed to be going through the motions and took my written deposition without even asking about my guardian being present. Maybe he thought Danny was in loco parentis? Perhaps it wasn¡¯t required just for witness depositions? Either way, it seemed slipshod.


    I also didn¡¯t expect him to review the depositions with us in front of Danny, asking questions about what we wrote. I hoped he didn¡¯t bring it up, but I¡¯d mentioned Emma Barnes¡¯ taunting comments as sarcastic indications that she knew something about the flute. ¡°So, you think this Emma Barnes was involved in some way?¡± he asked. Taylor winced. Crap, I was hoping she¡¯d get implicated with the evidence or Hess flipping on her.


    ¡°I think she had knowledge of it when we spoke at the last period,¡± I replied.


    Danny¡¯s eyes were wide as he gave me a shocked look. ¡°Taylor?¡± he asked in confusion.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she knew when I asked her at lunch,¡± she admitted. ¡°It was Sophia Hess who later hinted I should look in the trash.¡±


    ¡°I spoke to her hours later. And Sophia is one of her best friends,¡± I added.


    ¡°Emma wouldn¡¯t be involved in something like that,¡± Danny said. ¡°Taylor, you¡¯ve been best friends since first grade!¡±


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t been my friend since I came back from summer camp before freshman year,¡± she admitted.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I thought I could handle it,¡± she replied. ¡°I thought they¡¯d get tired after a while. And Alan is one of your best friends. I didn¡¯t want to screw that up for you.¡±


    ¡°Alan Barnes?¡± Detective Searls asked suddenly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Danny replied absently, staring at Taylor ¨C who was visibly upset. ¡°Emma¡¯s father. We¡¯ve been friends for years, before Taylor and Emma were even born.¡±


    I saw the detective¡¯s face settle and his tone of voice changed suddenly. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s clear that you need to discuss things. Would you like to withdraw these depositions before they are attached to the official complaint?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± I said quickly. ¡°I¡¯ve only given factual statements.¡±


    Searls gave me an annoyed glance before Taylor added, ¡°I don¡¯t need to change anything. Dad, I¡¯ll explain later.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Danny said. ¡°We don¡¯t keep secrets in our house.¡±


    ¡°Can we talk about this later? Not here?¡± she asked sharply.


    Danny nodded. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Detective Searls straightened the papers in front of him. ¡°Very well,¡± he said in a business-like tone. ¡°If you¡¯re sure, I¡¯ll give you a case number and my desk number. We¡¯ll see if we get any prints from the instrument.¡±


    ¡°Do you need to check Taylor¡¯s locker for prints?¡± I asked.


    He shook his head. ¡°No, there¡¯s no way to determine for sure when the theft happened. It¡¯s too plausible to explain away anyone¡¯s prints on the lock.¡±


    ¡°What about inside the locker?¡± I countered.


    Searls started to look annoyed. ¡°Going into the school would require a warrant from a judge, and I don¡¯t see anything here that would justify it.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, glaring.


    He straightened in his chair. His right hand moved toward his left armpit, then the aborted motion turned into straightening his lapels. But I knew he was reaching for his sidearm for a moment. ¡°I know you think you know everything from watching TV, but this is the real world. We must follow the law. Now I believe you three know the way out.¡±


    Everyone was quiet as we made our way out to the parking lot. Finally, Danny broke the silence as we approached his car. ¡°Rhiyen, let me know where to drop you off. I think Taylor and I have a lot to talk about.¡± His clearly dismissive tone rubbed me the wrong way.


    ¡°Well, I left my backpack in your living room, so if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to collect that first. Also, since I let the cat out of the bag, I suppose I¡¯m due my share of claw marks,¡± I said, then paused. ¡°If you want me there Taylor,¡± I concluded.


    She swallowed nervously. ¡°I think it would help. You saw a lot of it.¡±


    Danny opened his mouth, and I asked quietly, ¡°Is this where you want to have this talk?¡±


    His mouth snapped shut and he angrily unlocked the car. I got in the back seat again while Taylor rode in the front passenger seat.


    The car ride home was quiet as a tomb. Taylor sat rigid in her seat ahead of me. I wanted to reach out to her but couldn¡¯t with her father right there. I also didn¡¯t know what I could say that would be welcome, so I was pretty much useless back there.


    When we arrived at the Hebert house, I opened the back door as soon as the car rolled to a stop and got out. I opened Taylor¡¯s door and she blinked at me as she stood up. ¡°You okay?¡± I murmured.


    She nodded and I stepped out of her way. We followed her father inside after he unlocked the door. There our backpacks were, sitting together on the couch where we left them earlier. I was in no rush to collect mine. Instead, I stood beside Taylor as her dad turned toward us.


    ¡°Why does he need to be there?¡± Danny asked, scowling. I bit back the first thirty answers that sprang to mind.


    ¡°Why do I feel like you won¡¯t believe me? Like back at the police station?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Taylor, you can¡¯t spring something like that on me and expect me to just accept it,¡± he argued. ¡°If you¡¯re being bullied, then I deserve to know! I¡¯m your father!¡±


    ¡°If?¡± she hissed, and I winced. I tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she spun toward me. ¡°Stay right there,¡± she asked quietly. I nodded. ¡°Both of you,¡± she added when Danny tried to speak again. She marched over to a flight of stairs and climbed them two at a time.


    Danny looked at me for a while, frowning. ¡°Where did you meet Taylor,¡± he finally asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re classmates,¡± I answered. ¡°We have practically the same schedule.¡±


    ¡°How long have you been friends?¡± he asked. Behind him, Taylor came back down the stairs with a sheaf of papers clipped together.


    ¡°About eight hours,¡± I said lightly. ¡°Not for lack of trying though.¡±


    Taylor flushed a little. ¡°Sorry about that. I thought Emma was trying to set me up with a fake boyfriend again.¡±


    ¡°Again?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Three times last year,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Then they would mock me with her.¡±


    I winced. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t blame you for being suspicious.¡±


    ¡°Emma really?¡± Danny asked.


    ¡°Remember Henry?¡± Taylor snapped.


    ¡°Um, no,¡± Danny said after a moment, puzzled.


    ¡°I talked about him for a week, as someone I thought I liked,¡± she said tiredly. ¡°He was the first. When they didn¡¯t let up this year, I started recording everything they did to me.¡± She thrust the papers at Danny. ¡°Read it.¡± She looked over at me. ¡°Out loud, please. Rhiyen can probably confirm a lot of it.¡±


    Danny sat down heavily in a chair, while I led Taylor over to the couch. We sat together where the backpacks once were. I held her hand as Danny started.


    ¡°This is the first day of school,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s when they started,¡± Taylor shot back.


    ¡°Pencil shavings dumped in my hair in world affairs,¡± Danny read, ¡°taunted about having head lice, told they should shave it off, so I¡¯d look like a boy.¡±


    ¡°That was Madison, wasn¡¯t it?¡± I asked.


    Taylor nodded.


    ¡°She¡¯s one of the Three Witches of Eastwick,¡± I explained to Danny, ¡°along with Barnes and Hess.¡±


    ¡°Madison Clements?¡± Danny asked, peering at the record. ¡°And the teacher didn¡¯t say anything? What was he thinking?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Taylor confirmed. ¡°Keep going.¡±


    ¡°As I was leaving art, Sophia shoulder-checked me into a desk. Told me to get out of the way. Bone bruise on thigh that night.¡± Danny read slowly. He swallowed and looked sick.


    ¡°I was sitting nearby when that happened,¡± I admitted. ¡°I asked if you were okay,¡± I added apologetically.


    ¡°Knowing what I know now, I would have answered differently,¡± she agreed. ¡°But seeing Emma all over you last period made me suspicious.¡±


    ¡°In my defense, she always came in right at the bell and sat beside me.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Taylor agreed.


    ¡°It says here math class, Emma seems to be priming another Henry,¡± Danny added. He looked pretty green as the reality sunk in.


    ¡°Well, she won¡¯t be doing that again,¡± I declared.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Taylor questioned. ¡°She seemed pretty determined.¡±


    ¡°When she joked about¡­ what happened today¡­ I called her vile.¡±


    Taylor blinked. ¡°I wish I could have seen that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have plenty of opportunities in the future,¡± I assured her.


    ¡°Finally,¡± Danny interrupted, ¡°it says you received twelve pieces of hate mail to your inbox.¡±


    ¡°Those are printed out on the following pages,¡± she clarified.


    ¡°My God, these are awful,¡± he said as he reviewed the printouts. ¡°Isn¡¯t that against the rules?¡± Danny asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been reporting it all last year, until they just stopped listening. They¡¯d say they couldn¡¯t trace it back, but most of these were sent during class times and the IP addresses belonged to Winslow. They just needed to pull the records to see which student was logged on at the time. But after the first few times, they just stopped bothering.¡± Taylor was getting visibly worked up, so I discreetly squeezed her hand.


    ¡°Taylor, they can¡¯t just¡­ ignore you like that. There must be a reason,¡± Danny argued. Taylor¡¯s hand squeezed mine tightly. He may not have meant to imply that she was somehow at fault, but damned if she wasn¡¯t taking it that way.


    ¡°Just like Emma wouldn¡¯t turn on me for no reason?¡± Taylor asked. ¡°I must have done something wrong, right? You don¡¯t think I¡¯ve asked myself a hundred times what I did wrong? The only thing she¡¯d tell me is that she was tired of me being a loser since Mom died.¡±


    Danny flinched back like he¡¯d been struck too. ¡°I don¡¯t understand any of this. Why didn¡¯t you tell me when this started? Tell me the truth now.¡±


    Taylor went still. ¡°You want the truth. I¡¯ll tell you the truth. I didn¡¯t tell you because I wanted to handle it myself. I didn¡¯t trust you to handle it.¡±


    Danny went paler than ever. ¡°What? Why wouldn¡¯t you trust me?¡±


    ¡°Because you haven¡¯t really been there for me since Mom died.¡±


    With that, Taylor got up and opened the front door. She walked out into the night.


    I jumped to my feet. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on her,¡± I said in a rush as I followed her out. Danny didn¡¯t move.


    Unsure of myself, I hung back a couple of paces as Taylor angrily stalked down the sidewalk. A lot of things had been said, a lot of frustrations aired out. I didn¡¯t really belong in the middle of this family dispute I¡¯d blundered into. But here I was. She asked me to stay. For moral support? As a witness? She seemed convinced that Danny would have trouble believing her. I doubted he questioned her honesty, but he seemed to have trouble wrapping his head around how screwed up the situation was. Until he did, I could see him saying the wrong things repeatedly. Maybe Taylor was right not to involve him. I began to regret my earlier advice.


    She looked up from her brooding and glanced back at me. ¡°You don¡¯t need to follow me,¡± she said softly.


    I shrugged. ¡°Friends don¡¯t let friends get mugged,¡± I joked.


    She sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t need to¡­ just¡­ thanks,¡± she started to protest, then deflated. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s late. You need to get home.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. ¡°I just want to make sure you¡¯re okay.¡±


    Taylor closed her eyes and swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± she admitted. ¡°But nothing is going to get fixed tonight. Let¡¯s head back.¡±


    This time we walked back side by side. When we arrived a while later, the door was still unlocked. Danny was sitting in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the tabletop. Taylor looked at him, frowning.


    I picked up my backpack and swung it up on my shoulder. ¡°The busses are still running,¡± I said in a low voice. ¡°See you tomorrow?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    She nodded, and I saw myself out.


    O*O*O


    The busses were indeed running when I left Taylor¡¯s neighborhood. But they had ceased for the night when I tried to catch the connecting ride home. So, I cinched my backpack tight to my shoulders and took off at a quick jog. It had been a while since I¡¯d last run in the night. Brockton Bay was a lot different than Glenridge by night. Fewer trees. Much more pavement. I set a steady pace that ate up the blocks.


    When three men sprang out of an alleyway in front of me, I didn¡¯t hesitate. The one directly in my path caught a hard right to the jaw that sent him careening to the side as I swerved around him. I would have kept running, but the one on the left had a pistol, so I ducked and pivoted, launching myself at him. He was just starting to react when I got my right hand around the wrist behind the pistol and pushed it aside. I straightened up inside his guard and my left elbow cracked against his temple. He slumped and I relieved him of the pistol.


    The third guy just took off running, so I let him go. I stepped into the alleyway, looking for more people and finding none. I untucked my t-shirt and used the tail to wipe my prints off the gun after I made sure the safety was engaged. Then I chucked it into a dumpster. It was dark enough I doubt anyone got a good look at my face, so I left the two unconscious men on the ground and took off at a dead run. Then I ducked through an alley and emerged from the other end at a more moderate pace.


    My breath was quick, and the blood was pounding through my veins. There was nothing like a quick bit of unambiguous violence after sorting through feelings for several hours. I wasn¡¯t convinced I¡¯d helped anything at all with my meddling. But then I recalled the sight of Taylor crying over the flute and how it felt to hold her, and all my recriminations died away. That, at least, I knew I¡¯d gotten right. She needed a friend, and I was going to be there for her if it killed me. That surety settled me, as the Landry¡¯s neighborhood finally appeared up ahead.


    O*O*O


    I set my alarm a little earlier, before going straight to bed. As a result, I managed to arrive at Winslow a few minutes before Taylor. I was waiting for her at her bus stop when she arrived.


    She looked a little surprised to see me. ¡°Rhiyen?¡± she asked. Maybe she was a little low on sleep too.


    ¡°Good morning, Taylor,¡± I said.


    ¡°Okay, I didn¡¯t dream that part,¡± she muttered. Maybe more than a little sleep deprived. ¡°Good morning, Rhiyen.¡±


    We started walking together toward the entrance. I noted how easy it was to match the length of her stride. She was tall for a girl, and most of it was her legs, so we basically matched. I liked that.


    People also noticed how we were almost walking in sync. We are making a statement here, now to see how people react to it.


    The first test was just inside the entrance. A group of girls in a semicircle moved into Taylor¡¯s path, loudly talking in voices meant to be overheard.


    ¡°Did you hear about her freaking out yesterday?¡±


    ¡°Over by the dumpsters?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, trash crying over trash.¡±


    Taylor didn¡¯t visibly flinch, but I could see the muscles in her jaws tighten. I still wanted to punch something. ¡°Stop blocking the hall!¡± I snarled and stepped right through the group, making them back away. Taylor followed behind me.


    ¡°What the hell is your problem?¡± one protested.


    ¡®Who do you think you are, her bodyguard?¡± another asked.


    ¡°Looks like someone has an IQ above room temperature,¡± I snarked back. As I looked back to deliver that line, I saw Taylor crack a smile.


    ¡°What was that?¡± she whispered as she caught up. People who heard the exchange were staring.


    ¡°Nobody talks trash about my friend,¡± I said, ¡°or I get irate. This bullying bullshit is coming to a screeching halt.¡± I spoke louder to make sure I was overheard. Then I gave Taylor a wink.


    The crowd thinned out as we made our way to the third floor. Classes were starting soon so we had to hurry as we swapped our books out. ¡°Things okay at home?¡± I murmured as she closed her locker.


    She shrugged. ¡°He left early for work. I hope he¡¯s just thinking about what I said, and not¡­ drifting again.¡± She looked a little distraught. ¡°I hope he handles this better than Mom¡¯s death.¡±


    ¡°I do too,¡± I agreed. ¡°But If your mother was anything like you, I can see why he had so much trouble.¡±


    She smiled a little wanly. ¡°That¡¯s nice of you to say. But neither one of us has been the same since.¡±


    We started off to Mrs. Knott¡¯s room at a good clip. The day was just getting started.


    O*O*O


    Taylor didn¡¯t know what she was expecting from Rhiyen when she returned to school, but it wasn¡¯t this. He¡¯d been waiting to greet her when she got off the bus and walked with her into Winslow. Having him walk in step with her was an odd experience. She¡¯d been alone for so long, it felt off to have a partner, a friend even. She hadn¡¯t felt this warmth since she and Emma were still friends, and thick as thieves as her mother once said. It felt really, really good.


    But just inside the entrance, some of Emma and Madison¡¯s friends were blocking her way, pretending to talk to each other as they reminisced over her humiliating ordeal yesterday. Reminding her of what she¡¯d lost, what she¡¯d had taken from her, instantly soured her mood.


    Then Rhiyen erupted. He barked at the harpies like an enraged Cerberus, roughly shouldering them out of her way. They tried to taunt him about being her bodyguard. Instead of getting flustered, he proudly claimed the title, telling everyone in earshot that she was his friend, and the nastiness was stopping now. She could have kissed him in that moment, if she¡¯d dared. She practically floated up the stairs.


    He made a point of sitting next to her in computer science, rather than a few rows back. Greg looked annoyed when he wandered in after the bell and saw his usual seat taken. Taylor, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t keep a smile off her face.


    When Mrs. Knott gave the advanced students their programming task, she half-expected Rhiyen to ask for help with his code. I mean, since they were friends, and he¡¯d been helping her so much. But when she asked, he just smiled at her and said he wanted to figure it out himself, so he¡¯d know it for the exam. He looked so much better smiling than his usual scowl. Still, it surprised her a little bit. She¡¯d expected something more¡­ transactional. He was almost too good to be true. Or was she just so jaded by the people she¡¯d encountered at Winslow that a good person liking her seemed suspect?


    O*O*O


    Mrs. Knott¡¯s class passed quickly. I was rapidly adapting to the style of her in-class projects, but I was clearly well behind Taylor¡¯s proficiency. Unsurprisingly, she offered to help me, but I demurred. Not only did I need to understand how the iterative solution worked for later testing, but I also didn¡¯t want Taylor to think I was using her in any way. I remember how ¡°The Deal¡± with Karen evolved over time. I was embarrassed over how mercenary I¡¯d started off. I was also a little wistful over how much time was wasted. We were moving toward some kind of relationship when Sen Arashi attacked. Whether it would have survived her going off to college was anyone¡¯s guess. I¡¯d thought about it over the last summer, as much as I could bear. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d made peace with it so much as resolved to not make the same mistakes again.


    The last twenty-four hours also made me aware of how lonely I¡¯d become. It wasn¡¯t a comfortable thought. I¡¯d always prided myself on being self-reliant. Being adaptable. The time I¡¯d spent getting to know Taylor just left me wanting to know more about her. She was a fascinating mix of toughness and vulnerability that had my protective urges going haywire. At the same time, I didn¡¯t want to come on too strong and drive her away. So I tried to play it cool, but all too often something seemed to short out my brain to mouth filter. Then, I¡¯d say the most cringeworthy, earnest crap to her. I¡¯m just glad she seemed to accept it.


    I finished the work with about five minutes to spare. Taylor was long done and appeared to be reading something online. Mrs. Knott was cool about letting us do that, if our work was done. ¡°What are you reading?¡± I asked her quietly.


    ¡°Parahumans Online,¡± she replied, just as stealthily. Mrs. Knott¡¯s largesse did not extend to disrupting the class while others were working. When I glanced around, I noticed several people appeared to be working up to the wire. I didn¡¯t know Taylor was interested in capes. I¡¯d done a lot of research over the summer, but that was more in the nature of self-protection. I resolved to ask her about it later. I pulled up a news site and read a short summary of the case being made against a singer named Bad Canary. It sounded pretty gruesome, what she did to her ex.


    With a minute to go, I stretched and rolled my neck. Greg was still typing away, sweating a bit. He wasn¡¯t dumb, but I knew from what he¡¯d muttered earlier that he hadn¡¯t immediately gotten started on the assignment. Looks like he cut it too close. Most of the class was starting to pack it in. Taylor was frowning slightly at something she was reading, before she closed the browser and powered down the computer. Was it more crappy hate mail? I turned back and attended to my machine before I got caught staring.


    I stood up with Taylor as the bell rang, swinging my backpack to my shoulder. When we made our way to world affairs, I stuck to the new formation, close beside Taylor and ready to step forward as needed. One of the girls from earlier opened her mouth, but I glared at her and she swallowed nervously instead. When we sat in world affairs, I deliberately chose the seat to her left to put my books down. This was the same side as the right-handed desks opened up on. But I stood behind Taylor¡¯s desk and checked it for foreign objects before she sat down. I turned and looked down at Madison Clements who looked up at me like butter wouldn¡¯t melt in her mouth. Maybe she¡¯d already heard rumors.


    Or maybe not, since she asked to sharpen her pencil right after the bell rang. She did her usual fumbling around before returning to her seat, coming down the row. Taylor eyed her warily as she approached, until a paper airplane shot right past her nose, distracting her. As Madison smirked and raised her cupped hand, I reached out and smacked the back of her wrist with the tips of my index and middle fingers. Her hand popped up, the fingers springing open and catapulting the shavings into Madison¡¯s surprised face. She abruptly sneezed, drawing attention to her as the pencil shavings drifted down off her face onto her blouse and the floor. Everyone who was watching the paper airplane started staring at her, and a few in the back laughed.


    Madison¡¯s face reddened as she coughed. Taylor¡¯s eyes were wide as she spun and took in the scene beside her. I could see her teeth indent her lower lip. Then Clements whirled toward me in outrage, ¡°Mr. Gladly,¡± she cried out, ¡°he hit me!¡±


    Gladly, who was just now looking up from his lesson plan, looked confused and outraged, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°If I punched someone as tiny as her,¡± I called out, ¡°she¡¯d still be on the ground. And why is she covered with pencil shavings? Don¡¯t those go in the trash?¡± I asked innocently.


    ¡°Rhiyen didn¡¯t get out of his seat,¡± Taylor added helpfully.


    Mr. Gladly sighed. ¡°Okay, everyone, settle down. Madison, please go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. We have a group discussion today on a very serious subject.¡± It didn¡¯t escape my attention that Madison took her bag with her and didn¡¯t come back for the whole period.


    When we split into groups, I quickly claimed Taylor before Greg could say anything. He looked annoyed again but ended up joining us with Sparky when the rest of the class left us to our own devices.


    ¡°The discussion topic for today,¡± Glady intoned in mock seriousness, ¡°focuses on the Endbringers. Which one do you think has had the most negative impact on the world and why. You have fifty minutes to work out your group¡¯s response, and then each team will present their answers.¡±


    After a little discussion we found out that we all had different replies. Well, except for Sparky, who pretty much just looked off into space and periodically giggled under his breath.


    Greg chose Behemoth, the first to appear, given the number of cape deaths attributed to ¡°the Hero Killer¡±. He also backed it up with the mass destruction of oil fields and habit of tearing apart nuclear power plants.


    I chose the Simurgh, the Hope-Killer, owing to all the quarantined cities where she was allowed to linger too long. She also had a habit of destroying or weaponizing new tinker tech that had the potential to revolutionize the world. And what she did to the world¡¯s various space programs didn¡¯t bear repeating.


    Then Taylor chose Leviathan and completely schooled all of us. It wasn¡¯t even close. I might have even felt embarrassed if I wasn¡¯t prouder. So, sue me, I like smart girls. And Taylor was definitely one of those. But all of that confidence seemed to melt away when I suggested that she be the presenter since she clearly had the best arguments. So, I quickly changed gears and volunteered to handle that since she had done the most research on the subject.


    Public speaking didn¡¯t faze me much since I realized I could beat the crap out of anyone that dared mock me. It never proved necessary ¨C confidence is king, after all. But that thought lingering in the back of my mind always made me feel better.


    When Gladly asked each group which Endbringer they selected, I was surprised to see we were the only one that picked Leviathan. Greg looked upset and panicked, but I didn¡¯t care. Taylor¡¯s arguments were cogent and effective, so a good participation grade for today was pretty much in the bag. As undeserving as some people might be of this good fortune.


    Since we were the odd group out, of course Gladly asked us to go first. At least no one else would be able to steal our ideas, as I¡¯d seen them blatantly do several times. After all, why should they be honest when Gladly was too busy playing up to the popular kids to notice.


    To start off, I summarized the points Greg and I made regarding the others, and had several people nodding along. ¡°Then,¡± I said, ¡°Taylor explained, nicely, how we were wrong.¡± I gave the lady in question a grin that made her openly blush. ¡°First, consider Leviathan¡¯s two big victories, Kyushu and Newfoundland. The first sinking pretty much destroyed Japan as a first, or even second world nation. While Newfoundland wasn¡¯t as heavily populated, the enormous tsunamis touched off by both sinkings destroyed other cities on facing coastlines. Multiple cities were impacted by one attack. Second, consider what Leviathan did to the world economy. Oceanic shipping volume has dropped 95 percent since he first appeared, and the impact on international trade has been devastating. This triggered a worldwide economic downturn. Wages fall, prices rise, and tax revenues wane. The shipping collapse is what caused the riots that created the Boat Graveyard out in the bay. Leviathan is the reason why there¡¯s no money to restore Winslow. The economic collapse has also boosted gang recruitment in every city. He¡¯s hurt practically everyone in the world.¡±


    The class was silent for a moment as they digested this. Then Madison decided to stick in her two cents. ¡°You¡¯re just making stuff up. How would Taylor know all this?¡±


    I let out a theatrical sigh as I gave Clements a hooded glare. ¡°I read some of this in the library, but Taylor¡¯s father is Danny Hebert, the Head of Hiring for the Dockworkers Union. He¡¯s been dealing with this longer than we¡¯ve been alive. Is that good enough for you, Madison? Feel free to open a book as well.¡±


    The look on her face was worth the scolding from Gladly. I also noticed that he didn¡¯t challenge any of Taylor¡¯s points.


    As the bell rang, I looked at Taylor. ¡°Want to join me for lunch?¡± I asked, deliberately acting like it was no big deal. She¡¯d been avoiding the cafeteria as long as I¡¯d known her, so I wasn¡¯t about to push.


    She paused thoughtfully as she packed her bag. ¡°I think I¡¯d like to give that a try,¡± she finally said. Her voice was quiet but steady. Nonetheless, I still detected an unspoken tension.


    I smiled as I stood up. I noticed that her steps were a little shorter as we approached but decided to just match her. She paused at the entrance to the cafeteria, and I noticed more than a few eyes on us. Taylor followed me closely as I joined the serving line. I knew she brought her lunch, but I was more than happy to have the company. I also knew she was taking a big step forward here, so I wouldn¡¯t begrudge her the support. I picked up a second milk as I went through the line, asking if she was lactose-intolerant. When I paid and exited the line, I scanned the lunchroom. There was a partially occupied table in the corner, so I made for the open end. The students there were older and engrossed in some deep discussion, so ignored us.


    Taylor was quiet, but I could see the relief in her eyes as we sat down. I maneuvered things so her back was to the wall. I normally liked to have my eyes on the room, but her need was greater. As she hurriedly unpacked her lunch, I slid the extra milk over to her. She looked at me quizzically.


    I gestured toward the juice-box she pulled out. ¡°Lukewarm juice is okay, but a carton of milk would get unpalatable at that temperature.¡±


    ¡°I used to have an insulated lunchbox,¡± she muttered. I didn¡¯t bother asking what had happened to it. ¡°Why milk?¡±


    ¡°Osteoporosis is a thing,¡± I said. ¡°I figured your bones could use all the help they can get,¡± I added quietly. I didn¡¯t need to mention all the bruises courtesy of Sophia Hess.


    As gestures went, it was pretty minor, but the small, pleased smile I got was a pleasant surprise. Then I saw a flash of motion from my left. Without thinking, I reached out and my hand intercepted what appeared to be a glob of mashed potatoes. I turned my head and saw one of the guys on the track team holding a spoon with his mouth hanging open.


    I wiped my hand on a napkin and stood up. The murmur of conversation around us died down as I stalked over to their table. Most of the people sitting there were jocks, likely from the track team. They eyed me insolently. My knuckles itched. ¡°You have an eating problem?¡± I asked spoon-boy.


    He was a lean and toned guy with broad shoulders, but a long-distance runner¡¯s build. ¡°No,¡± he drawled.


    ¡°Do you want one?¡± I asked tightly, shifting my weight forward onto the balls of my feet.


    He frowned. ¡°Are you looking to get fucked up?¡± he sneered.


    ¡°I know who put you up to this,¡± I growled. ¡°I don¡¯t know what crap she¡¯s been feeding you, but this shit stops now. Understand?¡±


    He laughed, but his voice sounded tight in his throat. ¡°Have you lost your mind? Look around.¡±


    ¡°I know there¡¯s eight of you, and whoever else tries to jump in. Your leg gets broken first.¡± I thought of Jared. ¡°And I know your coach won¡¯t give a crap about you if you can¡¯t compete.¡±


    His eyes widened a little bit. ¡°Are you crazy? Threaten me like this? Coach will have you expelled!¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°He can. Then there¡¯s nothing to keep me from hunting you down. So tell me¡­ You want to lay off and we¡¯ll each pretend we don¡¯t exist? Or does this get ugly?¡±


    One of his friends butted in. ¡°Maybe we take care of you, and then take care of your little girlfriend. Put a bag over her head and ¨C ¡° his voice cut off as my eyes snapped to him.


    I could feel the cords drawing tight on my jaw and forearms as I leaned forward a little more. ¡°Finish that sentence and you¡¯re first!¡± I snapped. My eyes bored into his as my cruel imagination pictured his threat. I wanted nothing more than to end his life. He was a big buy, with a bulky upper body, maybe he was Jared¡¯s replacement. But he seemed to shrink in on himself as I pictured digging my fingers into his throat and tearing his head off.


    ¡°All right, all right, we¡¯ll lay off,¡± the first guy said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the lunchroom monitors belatedly rushing over.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said in a calmer tone as I eased back. I heard one of the other jocks mutter, ¡°Hess can deal with her own shit,¡± confirming what I already knew. I was halfway back to my table before she reached the track team¡¯s table. They evidently decided against trying to throw me under the bus, because she didn¡¯t even bother approaching us.


    Taylor was staring at me after I sat down. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Drawing some boundaries,¡± I said primly.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just threaten, like, half the track team?¡± she pressed.


    ¡°More or less,¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried about getting beat up?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°Or worse?¡±


    ¡°They have more to lose than I do, chasing athletic scholarships. I know I won¡¯t go down easily, and I¡¯ll cripple as many of them as I can in the process. They leave us alone, and we leave them alone is a lot less risky for them.¡±


    Taylor blanched. ¡°I don¡¯t want you getting hurt,¡± she murmured.


    ¡°Some things are worth it,¡± I countered.

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4


    Lunch hour on the toilet in the third floor washroom had become Taylor¡¯s daily routine. Every school day, she would finish off her brown bag lunch, do homework, or read a book until lunch was over.


    She had given up eating in the cafeteria after the trio¡¯s repeated efforts to ruin her appetite with their humiliation. They would accidentally trip her if she passed them while waiting for hot food. Or Sophia would walk past and then suddenly turn, like she was responding to someone calling her name, in time to spill whatever messy thing she had on her plate, like extra saucy spaghetti. After weeks of wearing random splotches of whatever they spilled on her, hiding in the washroom and avoiding it all had been easier.


    Today was different. When Rhiyen casually asked if she wanted to join him for lunch, a thrill of fear mixed with anticipation went through her at the thought. He would guard her. Finally, she could relax some of her vigilance and let someone else handle some of the harassment she¡¯d grown so used to. It was hard to wrap her mind around the change, the feeling of security, having him by her side. As they walked down the hallway to the cafeteria, a niggling anxiety rose into her throat.


    How much could she rely on him? How much of her guard could she let down before he decided she wasn¡¯t worth guarding so closely or his attention wandered? She slowed down as she pondered this, noticing that he matched her shorter stride without remarking on it. She nearly lost her nerve at the cafeteria entrance but steeled herself and stepped through. Nobody was paying any attention to them. She followed Rhiyen to the serving line, using her peripheral vision to scan the room for the trio. She found them laughing together next to a table where some boys from the track team were eating. They hadn¡¯t noticed her presence yet. Good.


    She followed him to a table near the wall, pleased that he was so decisive about where to sit. She sat down and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax the tension in her shoulders. Having the wall at her back made it easier, knowing that she wasn¡¯t going to be attacked from behind. Rhiyen¡¯s offer of milk was amusing and also touching. She felt a warm glow at the thought that he was considering her long-term health.


    While eating her pita wrap, she watched the trio through her hair as they walked away from the boys and sat down at a table nearby. She saw Sophia glance in her direction with a smirk and then turn her back, whispering with Emma in low tones while Madison made eyes at one of the track team. Her anxiety choked her again as she wondered what they would try, now that they had noticed her presence. She had to focus on chewing and swallowing past the ugly, sour feeling that stewed in her stomach. Would they ever give up?


    Taylor looked up in surprise at a quick motion from Rhiyen, as he caught something in the air that was heading her way. His reflexes were so fast that it astonished her. He stalked over to the track team table, confronting them immediately. She imagined she could feel a slight chill, like an aura of menace gathering around him, as he faced down the whole team without the slightest hesitation, his voice a harsh growling tone.


    How did he get so brave? He could get hurt if they all ganged up on him. They might try to follow him home or corner him outside of school. She noticed the other students in the area were leaning away from the track team¡¯s table as Rhiyen got louder about his threats. He was really doing it, defending her against all comers and strangely, it was working. She could see the tension in their bodies as Rhiyen¡¯s anger radiated from his form, intimidating them into backing down. The muscles in his back bunched as he barked something at one of them.


    It was easier for guys. Girls played dirty, played the victim, and if she decked Emma, Barnes would run to the principal, with her friends backing up her story, which would make things worse. She imagined Rhiyen starting a fight and then all of them jumping him at once. Her imagination conjured the scene as he gets shoved to the ground by the force of numbers and kicked while he was down. He might get some good jabs in but surely, he wouldn¡¯t be able to fight them all off at once. Strangely, they seemed to back down, and when he came back to the table, he was walking confidently, smiling at her with casual satisfaction.


    Could it really be over? Would they track him down later and beat him up when they weren¡¯t being watched by half the school? She didn¡¯t want him to get hurt on her behalf, even if it felt good to be defended. She worried about him getting in trouble, getting suspended, and then she would be alone again, waiting for the next strike.


    Some things are worth it. Was he talking about her? The words reverberated through her, stoking an ember of warmth deep in her chest. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as she tossed her head to push her hair out of her face. Nobody had cared enough to say such a thing for so long. The warmth stayed with her for the rest of the day.


    O*O*O


    Things seemed to calm down after lunch. I was a little disturbed by how badly I¡¯d wanted to hurt the jackasses on the track team, but in the end, it was probably just accumulated frustration. I¡¯d been uncertain too long about what was going on and whether I should intervene. Now that I understood and didn¡¯t have to worry about spooking Taylor, I was looking forward to doing something about it.


    By unspoken agreement, we sat together in the back of art class. I saw Sophia strutting in as the bell rang, frowning as she saw us. I tried to relax as the lecture began. Hopefully Taylor would become a less attractive target over time, now that she clearly wasn¡¯t on her own. From my experience, bullies preferred the easiest targets they can find to exercise their need for dominance. In that respect, Glenridge and Winslow were exactly alike.


    I felt a smile creep over my lips. Just like old times.


    As I worked on my notes, I occasionally glanced at Taylor from the corner of my eye. She was mostly focused on her own notes, with a frown of concentration that I liked a lot more than the harried expression I was used to seeing. But once I glanced over to see her doing the same and our eyes met. She looked away quickly, but not before blushing rapidly. That was a little awkward.


    As the lecture concluded and we packed up for Math, I slowed down a little so most of the class could leave. Sure enough, Sophia glanced at us and slowed down as well. She was still sitting down as we filed out of the room, but I maneuvered to stay between Taylor and her as we passed. The frustration and anger on Sophia¡¯s face was palpable. She abruptly leapt to her feet, digging her shoulder into my ribs as she did so.


    I was expecting this and braced, so I didn¡¯t move back at all with the shove. Sophia instead fell back awkwardly into her chair. ¡°Get out of my goddamn way, you creep!¡± she snarled.


    ¡°Sure thing, Sophie,¡± I drawled, ¡°Just passing by.¡± Taylor bit her lower lip as we left the room.


    In Math, when Emma and her friends sauntered in after the bell, Barnes stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me sitting right next to Taylor in the back corner of the classroom. Then she turned away and led her cronies near the front of the half-empty room. That suited me just fine. ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured to Taylor.


    She looked over at me with her eyebrows drawn together in a curious frown. ¡°For what?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°You are apparently amazing bimbo repellent,¡± I whispered back. ¡°If I¡¯d known that, I¡¯d have been sitting here since the first day of class.¡±


    Taylor let out a thoroughly unlady-like snort that dissolved into a quiet giggle. I smiled broadly as she blushed again. In the corner of my eye, I noticed Emma, Chloe, and Patricia all staring daggers back at us. So that¡¯s what it felt like when they did it. All right.


    As Mr. Quinlan droned on, I relaxed a little. No one was sitting close enough to mess with us. The bimbo trio whispering was less than the drone of a gnat. I realized that I¡¯d felt more alive today than I ever had before at Winslow. The uncertainty was gone, and I¡¯d picked my side. Was I a conflict junkie of some sort? I thought that over. I¡¯d been pretty much existing over the summer, determined to keep my head down. But the situation at Winslow was too like my own past to ignore. I was glad Taylor had opened up to me yesterday about what was happening, even if the situation was horrible. Her initial suspicions, albeit well founded, made me wary of scaring her off when I initially asked her about the bullying. I suppose it was more a degree of certainty in what I was doing. I liked Taylor, and what was being done to her was wrong. That¡¯s it, period.


    When the last bell released us from educational purgatory, we leisurely made our way to the lockers. By not rushing, we avoided the worst of the crowding on the stairs. I wasn¡¯t fully confident of protecting her in such tight quarters, to be honest. And I don¡¯t think the word had spread enough for everyone to be afraid of starting something. Yet.


    If Taylor was surprised when I boarded her bus instead of my own, she didn¡¯t say anything. We picked a pair of empty seats, and I gave her the window while I sat on the aisle again. We didn¡¯t talk about much, just enjoying a companionable silence after the school day was over. It was¡­ nice.


    I got off the bus with her, same as I did the day before. Though it seemed a lot longer ago. I didn¡¯t need to bear witness for her dad this time, but I still wanted to. I¡¯d gotten a demonstration last night that Brockton Bay wasn¡¯t exactly safe. Even if it wasn¡¯t that late right now, better safe than sorry. So, I kept my eyes peeled, just in case.


    O*O*O


    It felt good to have Rhiyen with her on the bus. She had been nervous about having him sit so close to her. She was tempted to lean into the warmth of his body even though it wasn¡¯t cold. She expected him to stay on the bus when it stopped a block from her house, but instead, he escorted her to her door. After she closed the door behind her, she peeked out the window to watch him walk away, admiring the view. He sauntered confidently, his head scanning left and right as he walked, always watching his surroundings.


    She turned from the window to find her dad sitting in the kitchen. He was reading a newspaper and raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Can I get you any food, Taylor?¡±


    Taylor hugged him. ¡°Hi, Dad. I¡¯m not really hungry yet. Maybe later? You¡¯re home early.¡±


    She pulled off her hoodie, made sure her keys were in the pocket, and then hung it up by the door.


    Her dad looked tired. ¡°I talked to Alan Barnes this morning. He called me back a few minutes ago after speaking with Emma.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± she murmured. She had an ugly feeling in her gut.


    ¡°He talked with Emma. She had a lot to say,¡± he informed her, confirming that ugly feeling.


    ¡°She said that you stopped being friends with her over the summer. She met a few new friends, and you didn¡¯t like it. That you started making snide comments, even acted jealous when she paid attention to other people.¡±


    She stepped forward, clenching her hands into fists, then dropped into a chair at the table. She had to control herself to keep from shouting. ¡°Dad, that¡¯s not true!¡±


    He shook his head ruefully. ¡°There¡¯s more. She said you started a campaign of harassment, calling her names, shoving her in the halls, and even getting her in trouble at school with false accusations of bullying. Alan said she cried a little while talking about it.¡±


    Taylor slammed her hands against the table, shoving her chair back, as she stood. Her expression was radiating rage. She swallowed a large lump that clogged her throat, thinking that her dad couldn¡¯t believe that story, but it seemed like he did.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do any of that.¡± Her mouth turned down in despair. ¡°She was my best friend, then she turned on me and I don¡¯t know why! I would never do anything like that. If she had new friends along with me, I would be happy for her!¡±


    She kicked the chair hard enough that it made a mark as it hit the fridge. Her dad¡¯s eyes went just a bit wider. ¡°So tell me this: Why is Alan Barnes trying to sell me this load of bull shit?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s lying and she has her dad wrapped around her little finger,¡± she snapped. ¡°He will believe anything she says.¡±


    Her dad just nodded. ¡°That¡¯s pretty much what I thought.¡±


    Her breath hitched. ¡°Dad?  D-¡± She had to stop for a few seconds until she felt like she could catch her breath and talk without her voice breaking up, ¡°You don¡¯t believe him?¡±


    He rose from his chair and walked around the table, then pulled her into a hug. ¡°I believe you, little owl. You don¡¯t treat people that way.¡± Her breath hitched with a sob, her face against his shoulder.


    ¡°Why did you let me get all worked up,¡± she asked against his chest.


    ¡°I wanted you to hear what he was saying about you so we can address it together.¡± He stroked her hair gently. ¡°I forgot you have my temper, and it will come out when there is some righteous anger behind it.¡±


    Taylor drew in a shaky breath and tried to speak, but the words wouldn¡¯t come.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he assured her. ¡°We¡¯ve got time.  Take as long as you need.¡± She was still angry, but it was draining out of her like sand through an hourglass. Eventually her breathing eased, and she pulled away from his hug.


    ¡°I think I¡¯d like some dinner now.¡± Her dad cooked some sausages, and they sat and talked about more pleasant things, movies she liked, books she had read, small talk that soothed the savage beast that he had awakened in her. After dinner, she headed upstairs to shower before bed.


    She stood under the stream, pondering, letting the water run down her back. She had managed to get through the full school day without gaining any new bruises. She cranked the shower off, then toweled dry, thinking. She wrapped the towel around her torso and then headed to her room to get some pajamas.


    She dropped the towel and examined herself in the mirror. What did he see in her? How could he think this thin body, a little roundness in the stomach, but hardly any curves anywhere else, could be attractive? When she looked at her reflection, she tended to focus on the flaws and things she didn¡¯t like about herself. She was always vaguely surprised at the combination of features across from her.


    Rhiyen was so athletic, and she didn¡¯t do anything special to keep herself fit. She ran her hands down her stomach, feeling the softness of the muscles there. Maybe it¡¯s time to start running regularly. She always enjoyed running, letting the world flow past as her feet pounded the concrete. It was so strange; she was looking forward to going to school.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    O*O*O


    When I finally made it home, I was immediately cornered by a highly amused Jared.


    ¡°So,¡± he said, drawing the word out, ¡°I see you finally made a play for the school pariah.¡± It was hard to take offense at his words, since he was grinning like a loon.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t ¡®making a play¡¯,¡± I corrected. ¡°I was just sick of all the crap people were doing.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, Sir Galahad,¡± Jared agreed. ¡°Nice scene in the cafeteria, offering to take on half the track team. Ballsy.¡±


    ¡°Like you explained to me,¡± I said, ¡°they have everything to lose if it turns violent.¡±


    ¡°Assuming you win, and they don¡¯t stomp you flat,¡± he countered.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be cold consolation to the first guy I cripple,¡± I replied with a smirk.


    Jared frowned. ¡°You really are crazy, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Maybe. Watching that shit, knowing I could do something to stop it, sounds worse.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s stopped you until now?¡± Jared asked, curiosity leaking out of his pores.


    ¡°She was skittish,¡± I explained, scowling. ¡°Barnes kept setting her up with fake boyfriends last year, so she thought I was one of those creeps at first.¡±


    ¡°And now she has a real boyfriend,¡± Jared pronounced with a smirk.


    ¡°Nah, we¡¯re just friends,¡± I said quickly.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± he said. ¡°You willing to throw down in the middle of the cafeteria for ¡®just a friend¡¯?¡± he asked, disbelievingly.


    ¡°Maybe I like to fight.¡±


    Jared¡¯s laughter followed me to my bedroom.


    O*O*O


    Things settled into a somewhat normal routine for the next week or so. I¡¯d meet Taylor at the Winslow bus stop, we¡¯d attend classes together and I¡¯d encourage idiots to reconsider their life choices. Then I¡¯d escort her home. Yes, it was a little much, but I liked doing it and she didn¡¯t seem to mind. I tried not to think about what Jared said.


    Then one morning, when I met Taylor, she was flushed and a little shaky. She also smelled freshly showered. Yes, I¡¯d memorized her scent and the soap she used. Give me a break, it wasn¡¯t like I did it consciously. Of course, I asked if she was okay as she stepped away from the bus.


    She smiled a little ruefully, ¡°I went for a run before school, and I was worse out of shape than I thought.¡±


    ¡°You must be getting up pretty early then,¡± I said, frowning a little.


    She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to get in shape, and it¡¯s better than running in the evening. I just get up an hour early and run before I shower.¡±


    ¡°Good point,¡± I conceded. Still, it was dark that early, and it would only get worse as the days shortened. ¡°Would you like some company?¡± I asked diffidently.


    Taylor blushed bright red and began to sputter. It took a long moment of reviewing my words before I realized that the last activity she mentioned hadn¡¯t been running. ¡°Ack! No! I mean on your runs! Company while running!¡±


    We were halfway to the main entrance before Taylor completely recovered her composure. ¡°Oh. Ah. Yeah. That¡¯s¡­ different. Um, won¡¯t you be getting up even earlier?¡±


    I shrugged back. ¡°I can go to sleep a little earlier at night. And two together is a lot safer, right?¡±


    ¡°I guess,¡± she allowed. ¡°Do you really want to go to all that trouble though?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°It¡¯s an excuse to spend more time with my best friend,¡± I said. I made a point of not looking at Taylor until we mounted the steps at the front entrance.


    O*O*O


    Her first attempt at running felt awkward. She did a few warmup stretches, feeling tension along the back of her calves. She reached above her head, pressing palms up, to loosen the tension in her shoulders. It was too tempting to hunch and blend in, but that posture wouldn¡¯t work long-term. She started with a fast walk and then sped up into a light jog, heading toward the water and the east side of the city that she knew best.


    Growing up in Brockton Bay, her parents had told her to always ¡°stick to the Boardwalk¡±. She avoided the bad part of town. Running north-to-south along the beach, she passed shops that sold expensive dresses. She passed cafes offering ludicrously expensive coffees and a great ocean view. She couldn¡¯t afford to shop there, but it made her feel safer to be where the tourists roamed.


    As she moved from a light jog to a faster run, she felt eyes on her that prickled against her skin. She noticed people watching her go by. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise, even though they didn¡¯t do anything besides turn their heads to follow her movements.


    After five minutes of fast jogging, her breathing became labored. She had to slow down, puffing and sweating under her hoodie. She jumped when a few teenage girls came out of a shop, giggling together. She inwardly cursed herself for feeling paranoid, like she expected Sophia or Emma would suddenly appear and send taunts her way. She headed back home, noticing her neighbors watching her run, and decided to try running in the morning instead.


    Mornings were definitely colder. Running before dawn offered fewer chances for people to stare at her, since most were still asleep in their warm beds. She had to talk herself into leaving the bed, because she was sore when she woke up, after the exercise the previous evening.


    She stretched longer this time before her run and worked through the soreness. She didn¡¯t mind the darkness as much, knowing that sunlight would be coming soon with the dawn. She could smell the pastries and coffee of the cafes before she got close, and the scent seemed more comforting in the early morning.


    She was surprised that morning that Rhiyen noticed her flush from the morning exercise. It both gratified and mortified her how much attention he was paying to what she did. She was surprised when he offered to accompany her on the morning runs. When he said ¡°It¡¯s an excuse to spend more time with my best friend,¡± the warm ember in her chest was stoked again and stayed with her.


    That evening, when her dad came home with a load of groceries, she helped him bring them in and then chatted with him over tuna salad sandwiches.


    ¡°Dad, it feels weird to run in the evenings, so I¡¯m trying to stick to mornings. Rhiyen offered to run with me. What do you think?¡± she ventured.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ll be safe?¡± He questioned, worry crinkling his forehead.


    ¡°Dad, Rhiyen makes me feel safe at school. He stopped the bullying.¡±


    ¡°Really? I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡± He gave a helpless shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t be there with you to head it off, even if I want to. I¡¯ve made some calls to the school administration, but that hasn¡¯t been very useful.¡±


    Taylor¡¯s lip curled, ¡°No kidding.¡±


    ¡°Do you mind if he uses our shower before we catch the bus? I don¡¯t want him to go to school sweaty.¡± Her face pinked slightly as she remembered the conversation about showers.


    Her dad sighed. ¡°It makes sense, so I¡¯ll allow it. If he¡¯s willing to travel here in the morning, there wouldn¡¯t be time to head home before school starts.¡±


    Taylor nodded happily and munched through the rest of the sandwich. She called Rhiyen¡¯s house after dinner and stammered through an awkward conversation about using their shower. After a few minutes of feeling acutely self-conscious, she ended the call, looking forward to seeing him in the morning.


    O*O*O


    Theoretically, there were fewer muggers roaming at five or six am than midnight, but I still kept my head on a swivel as I made my way to Taylor¡¯s house. The air was chilly enough once I left the bus to encourage me to stay in constant motion. Of course that was the whole point, right? Sweatpants and hoody helped as well. I¡¯d been a little surprised when Taylor called to offer the use of their shower; I was anticipating having to wait and use the locker room at Winslow. Of course, that also meant giving the bullies a window of opportunity. While Taylor could just try to avoid them or hang around Mrs. Knott, it was far from reliable.


    It¡¯s not surprising how quickly the siege mentality I¡¯d developed protecting Karen and Howard from Sen Arashi would return. I really preferred not to let Taylor out of my sight when we were at Winslow. It was clearly hostile terrain to me. I was glad she didn¡¯t chafe at my presence or just get sick of seeing me around. Maybe she regarded Winslow the same way. I know she had more than enough reason to.


    My feet carried me up the path onto the Hebert¡¯s porch, skipping the bad step I¡¯d been warned about. I knocked briefly and swung my backpack off my shoulder. Taylor opened the door wearing similar layers and welcomed me in.


    ¡°Do you want anything before we get started?¡± she asked quietly. I wondered if her dad was still asleep.


    ¡°A drink of water would be nice,¡± I said as I left my backpack near the door. I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she poured me a glass. I drained it slowly and thanked her. ¡°I appreciate it. Ready to get started?¡± I asked.


    She nodded and led me out the front door, pausing to lock the door with a key she wore on a string around her neck. We stretched for a while before starting out slowly, warming up as we trotted down the sidewalk. After a while, she slowly picked up the pace, her breath streaming out in wisps of white vapor. I matched her cadence as we ran through the slowly warming air. I was reminded again that Brockton Bay was a lot further North than I was used to.


    I let Taylor pick the route. She was born in Brockton Bay, and presumably knew the town a lot better than I did. Admittedly, I also tended to pay less attention to which parts of town were safer than others, especially when I was by myself. At least I was working on my situational awareness. The blood began to sing through my veins as I got fully warmed up. At this point, part of me would enjoy a nice, vigorous scrap. But my smarter side knew it would freak Taylor out, and accidents could always happen. I was enjoying this, and I didn¡¯t want her to be afraid of doing it again.


    I glanced over at my running companion. She was clearly trying to pace herself, but I could see she was beginning to flag. I hoped she wasn¡¯t trying to push too hard out of embarrassment or something. ¡°Let¡¯s drop it down a bit,¡± I suggested.


    Taylor just nodded and slowed down. Her breathing was still labored.


    ¡°You ready to turn around and head back?¡± I asked.


    She hesitated, then looped back in front of a small caf¨¦. We retraced our steps at a slightly slower pace. This was when the endurance work kicked in. I slowed a little, letting Taylor forge ahead. She was keeping it up gamely and trying to maintain her form. I admired her clear determination. I sped up to gradually pull ahead again as we left the Boardwalk.


    Eventually, we made our way back to her neighborhood. Taylor was wobbling pretty badly, but I hesitated to say anything. We entered her yard at about half the pace we left it, but with plenty of time to spare. ¡°We need to keep moving to cool down the muscles,¡± I reminded her. She just nodded breathlessly. After some half-hearted cool-downs, she fished out her house key and let us in.


    Her dad was in the kitchen when we guzzled down some ice water. Cold outside or not, running still dries you out. When Taylor went up to take her shower first, Mr. Hebert spoke up. ¡°I can scramble you a couple of eggs while I¡¯m at it,¡± he offered.


    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯d appreciate it,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Good run?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Pretty good,¡± I said. ¡°Quiet this early,¡±


    ¡°I was a little concerned,¡± he admitted, looking up from the frying pan. ¡°Not many people out there.¡±


    ¡°Not this time of day,¡± I agreed. ¡°I¡¯m glad she asked me along.¡±


    Mr. Hebert gave me a long, measuring gaze. ¡°You seem pretty confident,¡± he observed.


    I shrugged. ¡°I can handle myself. And I only have to delay anyone long enough for her to get away.¡± I tried to sound confident, rather than smug or overconfident.


    ¡°Have you been in a lot of fights?¡± Danny asked as he stirred the eggs again.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh, right, the amnesia,¡± Mr. Hebert said. I could detect a note of distrust.


    ¡°I think,¡± I allowed, ¡°given the way I tend to react to things, I know how to fight. But I also know that if I start something or push too hard, I may not be around when Taylor needs me to watch her back.¡±


    Mr. Hebert blinked. ¡°Heh. Good answer.¡± Then he plated up the eggs and handed me one.


    Hot protein hit the spot, and I was just finishing mine when Taylor came in. With her slightly damp hair pulled back from her fresh-scrubbed face, and her posture relaxed at home, I realized just how attractive she was. I blinked at the randomness of that thought. ¡°Shower¡¯s free,¡± she reported.


    I nodded and got up from the table, rinsed my plate and fork in the sink, and put both in the dishwasher. ¡°Thanks for breakfast,¡± I said as Taylor settled down at the table, and I made my way upstairs with my backpack.


    The water heater was clearly struggling to catch up, but cold showers never bothered me that much. It just encouraged me to be... efficient. In jig time, I was clean, dressed in my school clothes, and toweling my hair dry. I sorted out the wet towels and re-packed my backpack, then headed downstairs.


    Taylor was finishing her breakfast and looked up. ¡°You¡¯re quick,¡± she said. ¡°Did I leave you enough hot water?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°You did, thanks.¡±


    ¡°We better get going then,¡± she said.


    She grabbed her and her father¡¯s plates and took them to the sink. Mr. Hebert finished his coffee. ¡°I need to take off as well. I¡¯ll see you tonight, honey.¡±


    A sudden memory sparked my attention. ¡°Um, did you hear anything back from Detective Searls?¡± I asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t get any messages at home, but, well, you know¡­¡±


    He frowned. ¡°No, not a word. I should probably follow up with him.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°Okay, thanks, I¡¯ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again for the scrambled eggs.¡±


    He waved that off. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. See you tomorrow?¡± he asked glancing at Taylor.


    She quickly nodded. ¡°I had a good run, just a little slow¡­¡±


    ¡°We did the whole circuit,¡± I assured her. ¡°Speed is overrated.¡±


    We left for the bus stop as Mr. Hebert locked up. The air already seemed to feel a little warmer as the sky grew lighter.


    O*O*O


    Taylor and I fell into a new schedule as September faded into October. We¡¯d meet up early for our run, shower and then head off to ¡®enemy territory¡¯ - Winslow. Carrying around the running clothes in my backpack wasn¡¯t a major inconvenience, and the morning exercise was a great way to wake up.


    As I expected, Taylor pushed herself and her endurance gradually improved. She also seemed to get a little more confident, not just when we ran, but in general. That helped when the idiots at Winslow refused to take a hint.


    Insults we could ignore or mock as the situation allowed. People are remarkably social creatures, and Taylor¡¯s ability to deal with the taunts ¨C while already ridiculously high ¨C multiplied when she had at least one friendly face nearby. Given what she¡¯d shared with me, it was more the loss of Emma, her childhood best friend, and the isolation that wore her down more than anything.


    I knew from my own past that I was kind of a misanthrope. I preferred to concentrate my concerns on the few individuals that I found worthy, rather than socializing with a crowd. Jared was a vaguely acceptable acquaintance I rarely encountered since he was a senior. At the Landry¡¯s, he was amusing ¨C in an annoying, smug, sort of way. Taylor was¡­ different. Interesting. And I wanted to know more about how different she was.


    When I refused to leave her alone, Taylor really stopped caring as much about what the Three Witches were saying and doing.


    The physical encounters were another matter entirely. Hess seemed infuriated that she couldn¡¯t get past me to hurt Taylor, and no matter how hard she tried to hit me, I never gave her sadistic side any satisfaction. I was also getting better at placing inconvenient elbows and knees in the way. I couldn¡¯t really haul off and deck her, but it was hard for her to complain about bruising her knuckles on my elbows.


    The stairs were another kind of nightmare. Sophia and her friends seemed to love tripping Taylor on them, and this ramped up when they were stymied in other places. Eventually, we had to walk side by side, with Taylor¡¯s hand on the railing and me making sure she didn¡¯t get tripped or shoved off her feet. If they tried to knock me down, I tried my damnedest to take them with me. Which usually pissed off whoever was below us. Not worth the hassle for them. Still, we tended to delay taking the stairs until the worst of the crowds had thinned between classes.


    But that¡¯s not to say they didn¡¯t try other ways to start crap. I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised when I learned from Jared that a rumor was going around that I¡¯d gotten Taylor pregnant. He didn¡¯t believe it but just wanted to give me the heads up. Taylor was mortified when I told her after school and pretty much shut down, no matter how I tried to reassure her.


    One thing that I was worried about was someone from Winslow or Mr. Barnes calling Danny Hebert about the rumor. So, the following morning I decided to bring it up while Taylor was showering. We often talked in the mornings after the run. Sometimes I let him know how things were going on the bullying front. Nothing behind Taylor¡¯s back really. I wasn¡¯t about to betray her confidence. But we had a mutual interest in stamping out that bullshit, so I¡¯d generally keep him in the loop.


    ¡°One of the other foster kids is a senior at Winslow named Jared,¡± I began as he scrambled some eggs. I¡¯d offered to bring a carton of eggs in periodically, but he waved off that offer. ¡°The Witches Three apparently started a rumor that I got Taylor pregnant.¡±


    Mr. Hebert froze for a second, then resumed moving the spatula. ¡°It¡¯s not true, is it?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I assured him.


    ¡°All right,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°I¡¯ve already made an ass out of myself on this topic once. I¡¯m not going to do it again.¡±


    I let out a small sigh of relief.


    As he plated up the eggs, he peered at me. ¡°You two really are just friends? You don¡¯t, er, find her attractive?¡±


    ¡°Yes, really,¡± I started to answer then stopped as the second question registered. ¡°Of course I find her attractive. I¡¯m straight and she¡¯s beautiful. I¡¯m not blind,¡± I stated with some irritation. I felt Mr. Hebert¡¯s eyes on me as he handed me a plate. The conversation petered out as I ate quickly.


    Taylor seemed kind of distracted as she sat down and let me know the shower was free.


    O*O*O


    As the semester progressed, Taylor was resigned to the constant taunting from the trio, but Rhiyen¡¯s interest in staying by her side made it easier to bear. When she heard things like ¡°Nobody likes her. Nobody wants her here,¡± she could tell herself that Rhiyen did. When Julia mocked her, saying ¡°Here she comes. Gag me with a spoon, " Taylor retorted, ¡°I don¡¯t need to gag to stay slim. Do you?¡± The snort from Rhiyen as Julia gaped in surprise was the icing on the cake.


    Stairs were still a challenge. Sophia excelled at shoving her on the stairs hard enough to send her stumbling. Rhiyen countered by maneuvering so that Taylor was next to the rail and he was walking next to her. She fought the urge to reach out to steady him when he intercepted Sophia¡¯s shove, taking it on the shoulder blade and rotating around her. When he stepped into her personal space to stop a sly pinch, Taylor felt heat flood her face at his sudden proximity.


    Maybe some of her fellow students had noticed her blushing because she saw them giggle and turn away, whispering to each other. It happened more lately. She didn¡¯t think it was her paranoia talking. Rhiyen didn¡¯t seem to react to the background chatter so she put aside her worries for now. That lasted until the end of the day, when Rhiyen told her what people were saying. Someone was spreading gossip that Rhiyen had gotten her pregnant!


    She couldn¡¯t believe that the trio would stoop that low. She felt a spark of outrage rise within her at the thought. Then she chided herself. Of course, those witches would use Rhiyen¡¯s protective behavior against them. She stifled the angry response by reflex, clenching her nails into her palms. How long would Rhiyen stick by her if his reputation was getting dragged through the mud too? Icy fear cooled the spark as her thoughts turned to the prospect of Rhiyen¡¯s reputation getting trashed by her proximity to him.


    She hadn¡¯t let any guys get as close to her since Henry¡¯s betrayal, but now she¡¯d let Rhiyen in. It would be even worse if he walked away now that she had gotten used to his steady presence. He said it was fine, that nobody would believe it for long, but she had noticed the assessing gazes without knowing what they were looking for. Her heart sank at the thought of being alone again. She thought about calling in sick for a few days to let it blow over, but then realized the trio would use that as an opportunity to call it morning sickness. The only cure for this would be time, but could Rhiyen wait it out? Would he reconsider? She didn¡¯t think so, but her instincts told her it could happen.


    She couldn¡¯t get the thoughts out of her head. In the morning, after her shower, she examined her belly minutely. If anything, she had gained some muscle tone and lost a little of the softness there. She considered wearing more form-fitting clothing to dispel the rumor faster. With Rhiyen¡¯s help, she wasn¡¯t getting splashed with random juice anymore, so she didn¡¯t need the extra layer for protection.


    She pondered the pros and cons as she made her way downstairs, hearing Rhiyen and her dad talking over the sound of cooking eggs. She froze when she heard Rhiyen mention the words ¡°got Taylor pregnant¡±, mortified and expecting an angry outburst. But apparently, her dad was going to be reasonable about it. That was a relief.


    She lingered in the hallway for a moment, not wanting to walk in on that awkward topic. Then she froze again when she heard Rhiyen say she was beautiful. She stifled a surprised squeak, pressed her hands against her mouth, and went back up the stairs a few steps, in case her dad came into the hallway unexpectedly.


    It took a few minutes to compose herself, let the blush fade from her cheeks and try to suppress her wide smile. After waiting a few minutes, she deliberately made some noise on the last two stairs, then walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. She hardly knew what to do with her hands, couldn¡¯t look at Rhiyen directly, and nearly knocked her juice over. The hardest part was keeping her expression neutral. She could hardly believe it. Maybe it was true and he really saw her that way?

 Chapter 5r

    Chapter 5


    As October passed, that conversation stuck in my head. The days were getting shorter, and the mornings were growing colder and darker. But the runs kept us warm, and we only skipped when the weather was truly horrible. One thing that helped was Taylor¡¯s progress. Our pace was increasing day by day, and we had to slow down later and later in the run.


    And, according to Jared, that damn pregnancy rumor was slowly dying out.


    Sometimes, after school, we would go to the public library and work on homework when the assignments grew lengthier. I always insisted on walking Taylor home afterwards. She didn¡¯t seem to mind, and I was reluctant to return to the Landry¡¯s house.


    And that damn conversation with her father kept popping up in my thoughts.


    As I was walking home one evening near Halloween, I realized how unbalanced my emotions were. I could easily see my feelings for Taylor develop into something more than friendship. Something like what Karen and I had been fumbling toward before we were both killed.


    But there was a hell of a lot of things that needed to be resolved first. I hadn¡¯t been exactly forthcoming about my past, and I acknowledged that I had some large Karen-shaped baggage to unpack.


    No, that wasn¡¯t fair to Karen. She was more than just baggage. I had some regrets that ate at me but also taught me some valuable lessons. At the same time, Taylor deserved to know everything going in or it wasn¡¯t fair to her. Any relationship built on lies, even simple lies of omission, was ultimately doomed.


    On the other hand, my story was weird enough to be unbelievable. Dimensional travel was a serious crime on Earth-Aleph, no matter that I had no idea how I¡¯d managed it. Let alone the change I went through fighting Sen Arashi. If I could still do that. And if I could, would I be able to change back?


    Assuming, of course, that she was even interested in anything more than simple friendship with me. I also needed to make sure that she understood that I wouldn¡¯t abandon her if she turned me down.


    Maybe it would just be better to keep my damn mouth shut.


    Unsurprisingly, I was in a pretty foul mood by the time I arrived home. Too many questions, not enough answers.


    O*O*O


    The next day, Taylor of course picked up on my tension. To her credit, she didn¡¯t say anything during our morning run, nor did she ask while her dad was around. In the relative anonymity of the city bus heading for Winslow, she quietly leaned in toward me and whispered, ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    I turned to look at her. Behind the glasses, her brown eyes looked concerned and a little worried. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°Just thinking about some things that are bothering me.¡±


    She nodded silently.


    ¡°Nothing you¡¯ve done,¡± I quickly reassured her. ¡°You¡¯re about the only person that never annoys me,¡± I joked. I reached over and patted her forearm in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. I could feel the heat of her skin through the jacket sleeve. It took me a moment to pull my hand back.


    ¡°By the way,¡± I asked, trying to distract myself, ¡°when is your birthday?¡±


    ¡°June twelfth,¡± she replied. ¡°When is yours?¡±


    ¡°Guess I missed your birthday this year,¡± I said. ¡°I think mine is sometime in the summer. Maybe we should count the day I washed up in the bay?¡±


    Taylor frowned a little but nodded. ¡°What brought up birthdays?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Looking for an excuse to get you a prepaid phone, you know, for emergencies and such ¨C so we aren¡¯t dependent on landlines.¡±


    By the way Taylor went pale, you would think I¡¯d proposed selling her to Lung. ¡°We don¡¯t do cellphones,¡± she said quietly.


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m thinking there is a story there. You don¡¯t have to share it unless or until you are ready,¡± I murmured back. ¡°But if you want to talk, I¡¯ll listen.¡±


    Taylor nodded, squeezing her eyes together. I put my hand over hers and gave it a deliberate squeeze.


    We were quiet all the way to Winslow.


    All day at school, Taylor seemed quiet and preoccupied. I stepped up my wariness to compensate and we avoided the normal hazards. When I walked her home, she surprised me by asking me to come inside. While I wasn¡¯t necessarily forbidden to be alone with her in the house, I knew her father wouldn¡¯t be too cool with it. But her quiet had unsettled me all day, so I wasn¡¯t about to stop her if she wanted to talk it out now.


    Taylor sat me down on the living room couch and told me about her mother, Annette Hebert.


    Annette was a college English professor and, by all accounts, the glue that held the family together. In a way, it was hard for me to relate. My pseudo-mother, Elise, took off when I was five years old. When I told her I loved her and begged her to stay, she simply told me she didn¡¯t love me. That was the last time I spoke those words to anyone. So, Taylor¡¯s descriptions of growing up with a loving mother were something I couldn¡¯t really relate to.


    But it still hurt, deep inside.


    Annette being the glue that held the family together was no more apparent than in how things fell apart after she was gone. She died in a car accident, one apparently caused by her being distracted by her cell phone.


    The light finally dawned.


    I wrapped an arm around Taylor¡¯s shoulders as her voice trailed off. ¡°Now I understand why this would be a touchy subject,¡± I murmured. ¡°I¡¯d like you to have one for emergencies or 911 calls, but I can understand why your father forbids them.¡±


    I just hoped this never came back and bit us on the ass.


    O*O*O


    As October came to a close, I wondered about Halloween. The PRT made bank on costumes for children, but no one really marketed the outfits for teenagers or older, even the Protectorate or The Guild. Maybe they were worried about civilians being mistaken for heroes? That could potentially get very ugly if there was an incident, I suppose.


    And while Brockton Bay was rough overall, it never developed any nasty traditions around the holiday like Devil¡¯s Night in Detroit.


    To my surprise, my foster family, the Landrys, voluntold Jared and I to hand out candy the night of Halloween to any trick or treaters that came by. Given how, ah, frugal they were with their money, I was a bit surprised. But then I realized that a lot of their neighbors had children, so it was probably a status thing. The fact that they purchased basic costumes for the two youngest and were taking them around the neighborhood only confirmed this.


    Jared and I switched off getting up and answering the door that night for a couple of hours until they returned. It was pretty boring, especially when it grew longer and longer between knocks, so we talked amongst ourselves.


    ¡°So, how are you and your girlfriend doing?¡± he asked near the end of the night.


    I frowned. ¡°Taylor¡¯s just my friend,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, spreading his hands placatingly, ¡°I only told you that rumor, so you¡¯d know. Not that I believed you knocked her up. But seriously, you aren¡¯t even dating? No one believes that bro.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s heard about the way you are protecting her, man. If you were white-knighting her any harder, you¡¯d have to bleach your hair.¡±


    ¡°What I saw going on was disgusting. I¡¯d have an issue with people harassing anyone like that; it¡¯s screwed up,¡± I said scowling. ¡°We¡¯ve gotten to be friends now, turns out she¡¯s pretty cool, and wicked smart.¡±


    ¡°All that and you are just friends?¡± Jared asked.


    ¡°Yes. We are just friends.¡±


    ¡°For now?¡± Jared asked, this time with a smirk.


    I started to deny out of reflex and paused.


    ¡°Okay, I get it,¡± Jared said with a teasing smile. ¡°You are still working on it. What¡¯s the hold up?¡±


    I took a deep breath to organize my thoughts. ¡°Okay, we got the whole amnesia thing with me. No idea where I came from or how I ended up in the bay.¡±


    Jared sobered. ¡°I guess that would be an issue,¡± he allowed.


    ¡°I also really don¡¯t want to screw this up by rushing,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Ah, slow and steady wins the race, then. I get it. Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t talk crap about other people¡¯s business.¡±


    ¡°Then why all the curiosity?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a small betting pool. I wanted to make sure I didn¡¯t miss out on picking ¡®He¡¯s actually in the closet¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Seniors are assholes,¡± I snarked back.


    ¡°You just now figuring that out?¡± Jared asked with a laugh.


    O*O*O


    The weather turned bitter as November rolled around. The cold didn¡¯t really bother me much, but Taylor had to add more layers to stay warm during our morning runs. I brought up running after school, but Taylor demurred. I guess she liked the quiet early in the morning. But I made a point of keeping an eye on her when we ran through the dark and chilly air. Hypothermia and frostbite are no joke. We started going inside for our cool-downs to the relatively warm living room.


    One morning while Taylor was showering, Mr. Hebert went into the closet and dug out an old green parka and presented it to me. ¡°You aren¡¯t wearing enough for this cold,¡± he said.


    I blinked in surprise. ¡°Uh, thank you, I appreciate it. But I¡¯m okay as long as I keep moving.¡±


    He frowned at me, then quirked up an eyebrow. ¡°Are you serious?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I have a metabolism like a blast furnace; I don¡¯t get cold easily.¡±


    ¡°The buses are only going to get colder,¡± he advised. ¡°The heaters can¡¯t keep up. And Taylor worries about you.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said. Knowing Taylor, she would indeed worry about me getting sick. ¡°Then all I can say is thank you.¡± I added, accepting the bundle. While worn, it would definitely be warmer than my hoodie. I tried it on for a moment, feeling a little awkward. It was clearly one of Mr. Hebert¡¯s ¨C tall as he was, we had similar builds and it fit comfortably.


    ¡°So,¡± he said conversationally as he began cooking breakfast. ¡°Your foster parents must have fun keeping that furnace stoked.¡±


    ¡°Not so much,¡± I said as I set the table. ¡°Dollar store mac and cheese is my friend.¡±


    Mr. Hebert turned to look at me, still mixing the eggs in a bowl with a splash of milk.


    ¡°They¡¯d be operating at a loss if they tried to fully feed me, so I use some money from my job to stash some cheap pasta boxes in my room,¡± I explained. I was probably giving too much detail, but I didn¡¯t want him to get the wrong idea. He was important to Taylor, and he¡¯d been pretty generous with me.


    ¡°Job?¡± he asked curiously. ¡°Where do you work?¡±


    ¡°I worked full time over the summer for the public library,¡± I said. ¡°I may cover some holiday shifts for the regulars over the winter break.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t work during the school year?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how well I¡¯d be able to balance my time, and I wanted to make sure I did well. I don¡¯t really have any safety net, so failure isn¡¯t an option.¡±


    Danny Hebert peered at me for a moment, then nodded. Did I just pass a test of some sort?


    Anyways, we ate in silence and then Taylor came down to let me know the shower was free. I washed my dishes and the hot pan and then headed up.


    Later, as we prepared to leave, she noticed me slipping on the parka and beamed at her father. I gave him a nod as well as we all left the house for work and school.


    The parka was, in fact, a lot warmer.


    I made sure to thank Taylor once we were on the bus; she blushed even as she smiled.


    It was a good look for her.


    O*O*O


    As November wore on, I became more and more grateful for the gifted parka. It steadily got colder and colder each morning and while my exposed skin wasn¡¯t particularly bothered, I realized exactly how much I would stand out without it. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I was aware it was bitterly cold, but after a certain point awareness never graduated into actual pain or cramping. My blood always seemed sufficient to keep me warm.


    But I was also clearly in the minority. Even the few joggers we saw on our return legs in the mornings first bundled up and then disappeared. Maybe they had access to an indoor track. Maybe they decided to give up running until it got warmer ¨C or at least not running that early.


    Taylor just kept adding layers and slowly sped up. I was very impressed. She wasn¡¯t a freak of nature like me, so it had to be uncomfortable with all those layers. She took to wearing a balaclava underneath her glasses, with the arms connected behind her head with a stretchy strap, like goggles.


    Taylor also wore her balaclava into the bathroom for her shower. She categorically refused to let me see her hair after it had been trapped under it for any period of time.


    I smiled to realize that she had one physical feature she was proud of. I generally understood that a lot of women were overly critical of their own appearances. However, from comments she has made, I think Taylor took it to a whole new level. The bullying primates probably didn¡¯t help at all.


    Of course, I thought it was all hogwash ¨C I hadn¡¯t lied to her dad, I really do think she is beautiful. But as I researched on the computers in the library, I also came to realize that my opinion doesn¡¯t really count if she has self-esteem issues. It wasn¡¯t like I could convince her otherwise. She would likely think I was just being kind or some crap like that.


    I was also grateful that the internet in 2010 was a lot more developed than it was in 90¡¯s Glenridge ¨C especially when it came to researching the weather patterns on Planet Girl.


    O*O*O


    Danny Hebert stood at the counter, peeling carrots into the sink. The rhythmic scrape of the peeler was the only sound in the kitchen, save for the occasional creak of the house settling.


    Taylor hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed tightly across her stomach and eyes fixed on the floor.


    ¡°Need something, kiddo?¡± Danny asked without looking up, his tone easy.


    Taylor shifted her weight, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the tile. ¡°Uh, yeah. Sort of.¡±


    Danny turned, setting the peeler down and leaning against the counter. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    Taylor hesitated, biting her lip. ¡°So... Thanksgiving¡¯s coming up, and I was thinking...¡± She trailed off, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.


    Danny set down the peeler, turning to face her fully. ¡°You were thinking¡­?¡± He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.


    Taylor took a deep breath, her words tumbling out in a rush. ¡°I was wondering if maybe it¡¯d be okay to invite Rhiyen. To Thanksgiving, I mean. His foster family¡¯s... well, they¡¯re not really¡­ and I thought¡ª¡± she took a breath, ¡°I thought maybe... maybe he could come here? If that¡¯s okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Danny interrupted, his tone warm and certain.


    Taylor blinked, caught off guard. ¡°Really? You¡¯re sure?¡±


    Danny smiled, leaning against the counter. ¡°Sure, kiddo. Thanksgiving¡¯s better with more people. If Rhiyen needs a place to be, he¡¯s welcome here.¡±


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    Relief flooded Taylor¡¯s face, and she let out a breath she hadn¡¯t realized she¡¯d been holding. ¡°Thanks, Dad. I... I think it¡¯ll mean a lot to him.¡±


    Danny picked up the peeler again, his movements steady. ¡°We¡¯ll set another place at the table. No big deal. Now, how about giving me a hand with these carrots? The sooner we get through them, the sooner we can start planning what to feed him.¡±


    Taylor grinned, grabbing another peeler from the drawer. Her heart felt lighter as she joined him at the sink. She could already picture the surprise on Rhiyen¡¯s face when she told him the news.


    O*O*O


    A few days later, Taylor looked thoughtful as we settled down on the bus heading to Winslow.  She bit her lower lip once, so I knew she was about to speak about something she¡¯d rehearsed in her head a few times.


    ¡°Rhiyen,¡± she began. ¡°I spoke to my Dad. Would you like to come over for Thanksgiving?¡±


    I blinked. Harry the Hippy, my adopted father, never celebrated Thanksgiving out of respect for the Native American Genocide, but I¡¯d always been kind of curious. ¡°I¡¯d love to,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think the Landrys have anything big going on, so I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll mind.¡±


    Taylor practically beamed at me.


    That evening, I made sure I beat the Landrys home from work so I could ask. They seemed a little surprised someone wanted to host me, but after I promised to make myself presentable for photos that morning, I could go over to the Hebert¡¯s. That sounded reasonable to me, so we were set.


    When we finished running the day before Thanksgiving, Mr. Hebert asked if I had any requests for food. I looked up from my eggs. ¡°I don¡¯t actually remember ever eating a Thanksgiving dinner, so whatever you all have is fine. I¡¯d like to help with the cooking if I can.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°How are you at mashing potatoes?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Untrained but enthusiastic,¡± I replied, which earned me a smile. ¡°Barring unforeseen complications, I can be here any time after eleven.¡±


    ¡°Noon should be fine,¡± he said as Taylor arrived. ¡°We normally eat around five, so there will be plenty of time for prep work.¡±


    ¡°The potatoes won¡¯t know what hit them,¡± I replied. ¡°Seriously, thank you for having me.¡±


    Danny just laughed as Taylor let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. ¡°I¡¯m off potato duty this year? Thank you! No matter how much I worked on them they always came out lumpy.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m more than happy to fill in,¡± I said as I finished my eggs and hashbrowns. As I headed upstairs to shower, I heard Taylor and her father confirming they had everything they needed for the meal.


    On the bus to Winslow, Taylor was practically bubbling about tomorrow, making me especially glad I¡¯d accepted her invitation. Not that I was likely to turn down a free meal but having me over for Thanksgiving seemed to be setting some kind of seal of approval. I didn¡¯t really want to pry ¨C if she was happy, I was happy.


    It was a little sobering to realize how much my happiness had come to depend on her happiness. I wasn¡¯t sure what to think about that. I knew we needed to have a long talk, and soon.


    O*O*O


    Taylor stood in front of the mirror; her mother¡¯s light blue dress draped carefully over the back of her chair. Her palms felt clammy, and she took a steadying breath, willing herself to move.


    The dress was beautiful, simple but elegant, with a soft shimmer under the dim light of her desk lamp. She¡¯d spent most of the week debating whether she should wear it. Now, staring at it, she wasn¡¯t sure anymore.


    ¡°I¡¯m just overthinking,¡± she muttered to herself, reaching for the dress. The fabric felt heavier than she remembered, its weight somehow comforting. She carefully slipped it over her head, adjusting the fit until it settled on her lanky frame.


    Turning back to the mirror, Taylor examined her reflection. The dress hugged her shoulders and flowed to her knees, modest but flattering. Still, the thought of wearing it in front of anyone¡ªlet alone Rhiyen¡ªmade her stomach twist.


    She opened a small makeup kit on her desk, the one she rarely used. Picking up a brush, she applied a light dusting of blush, careful not to overdo it. A tube of pale pink lip gloss followed, its glossy sheen catching the light as she pressed her lips together.


    Her eyes drifted to her hair, a cascade of dark curls tumbling down her back. She grabbed her brush and began working through the tangles, wincing as she hit a few stubborn knots. By the time she was done, her curls looked fuller and more defined, framing her face in a way that felt... nice.


    Taylor stepped back, taking in the full picture. Her reflection stared back, unfamiliar yet familiar all at once. She smoothed the dress nervously, her fingers raising the faint floral scent of her mom¡¯s perfume that still clung to the fabric.


    The thought of her mom filled her with a bittersweet ache, but she smiled softly. ¡°You¡¯d probably say I look fine,¡± she whispered.


    With one last glance in the mirror, she straightened her posture and turned toward the door. Thanksgiving wasn¡¯t just about dinner this year. It was about making new memories¡ªand sharing a piece of her mom with the people who mattered most.


    O*O*O


    The morning of Thanksgiving, I was up early and showered with actual hot water on a weekday for once. The novelty was nice. As requested, I made sure to look as presentable as possible when Mr. and Mrs. Landry assembled all the fosters for a holiday photo spread. Jared said they did this for their social media and Christmas cards each year. He was evidently an old hand at this, so I followed his lead as we were put in the back of the crowd as the tallest. Jared¡¯s amused tolerance gave way to a sincere smile as the camera came up. I followed suit.


    Although their mercenary nature was evident to my cynical mind, I had to admit that having more involved foster parents would have complicated things for me a lot. I chose to be grateful for a warm place to sleep and the limited food they provided. My unnatural appetite was no one else¡¯s responsibility. So what if I got tired of mac and cheese?


    With the pictures over, I got permission to leave and donned my parka. The buses were running a reduced schedule on the holiday, but I had plenty of time, so I walked it. Or rather, jogged it to stay warm.


    When I knocked on the Hebert¡¯s door, it was opened by Taylor wearing a light blue knee-length dress that looked stunning on her. Her hair was a loose mane of gentle waves that washed over her shoulders, and I think she was wearing a little blush on her cheeks. I stood stock-still as my brain re-booted.


    ¡°Rhiyen?¡± she asked hesitantly. ¡°Would you like to come inside?¡±


    ¡°Oh. Uh. Yeah. I¡­ I would,¡± I said, sounding like a complete imbecile.


    She smiled a little and swept back, stepping aside from the entryway. It took a moment for me to realize that I needed to now walk forward. When I finally did, she shut the door behind me. ¡°You look, uh, really amazing,¡± I finally said.


    Taylor blushed even harder. ¡°This dress was my mom¡¯s,¡± she quietly said, looking down.


    ¡°You do her proud,¡± I finally said. ¡°Seriously.¡±


    She smiled at me. ¡°Since we were just staying home today, I thought I would get this out.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± I agreed. ¡°This is way too nice for Winslow. Even if it would totally put some people in their place.¡±


    ¡°I thought I felt a draft,¡± Mr. Hebert said as he walked in from the kitchen.


    ¡°I was just saying how nice Taylor looks,¡± I said as I took off the parka and hung it in the closet. I was acutely aware that I was just wearing my normal school clothes, albeit one of the nicer button-up shirts.


    ¡°I agree,¡± he said, ignoring Taylor¡¯s continuing flush. He paused, looking at her. ¡°Annette wore that dress in college when we started dating.¡±


    Taylor was quiet, looking at her father.


    ¡°I still have a lot of things to be grateful for this year,¡± he continued, smiling at Taylor. ¡°She¡¯d have loved to see you in that dress, Little Owl.¡±


    That seemed to have released some of the tension in the room. I went to the kitchen to wash my hands and get to work. I was already beginning to smell good tidings from the oven wherein I was pretty sure a turkey was roasting.


    Mr. Hebert had been up early, preparing the turkey and what I was informed was chestnut stuffing. So, he was relaxing in the living room in front of the television while Taylor and I occupied the kitchen. She was working on a couple of side dishes involving green beans and pearl onions, while I was washing and peeling some russet potatoes. I was glad I¡¯d done a little surreptitious research online in Mrs. Knott¡¯s class.


    Once that was done, I cubed them up and started them boiling in a pot of slightly 56salted water. While that was heating, I leaned against the counter and watched Taylor working in an apron with her hair tied back. She paused every so often to glance at me.


    ¡°Rhiyen,¡± she asked after a moment. ¡°What are you doing? And why are you smiling?¡±


    ¡°You look nice,¡± I said. ¡°And I¡¯m happy to be here. Seeing you like this was worth the jog all by itself.¡±


    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡± she asked, pausing to turn toward me. ¡°And didn¡¯t you take the bus?¡±


    ¡°Holiday schedule. I¡¯d rather run than wait for a bus that may or may not arrive. You look happy. And nice. I wished I¡¯d had a chance to know your mother and see what bits of her live on in you.¡±


    Taylor put down her paring knife, stepped up to me and wrapped me up in a hug, resting her head against my chest.


    ¡°Happy Thanksgiving,¡± I murmured as I hugged her back.


    We stayed like that for a while.


    O*O*O


    Unfortunately, boiling potatoes and slicing shallots waits for no man. As Taylor worked on her green beans almondine, the potato cubes became fork tender and I drained the whole pot into a colander. It wasn¡¯t until I was done that I noticed that the pot handles were not insulated. They¡¯d felt warm, but not unbearably hot to the fingers wrapped around them. If Taylor noticed the lack of dish towels or oven mitts, she didn¡¯t say anything.


    That done, I put the cubes back into the drained pot, picked up the potato masher, and went to town on my starchy prey. I picked up the warm pot under one arm and rotated it bit by bit as I worked the masher up and down with my other hand. Every three strokes, I¡¯d shake the masher to clear it of spuds. I kind of zoned out as I worked, until after a while Taylor nudged my elbow.


    ¡°Be careful you don¡¯t over work them,¡± she cautioned.


    I nodded, not sure exactly what she meant. ¡°How is that possible?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, it¡¯s something my mom said once.¡±


    ¡°Good enough for me,¡± I agreed.


    I got out a big pan and heated a mixture of butter and cream until it was melted and hot. Then I worked the mashed potatoes into it, folding and then whisking the final result. It needed a little salt, which I added, but the texture seemed to be silky smooth.


    Around this time, Taylor was putting a mixture of pearl onions, heavy cream, and spices into the oven to warm as the turkey finished roasting. Then we retired to the living room.


    ¡°I checked the turkey,¡± she announced as she flopped down on the couch. ¡°It¡¯ll be about half an hour more, according to the thermometer.¡±


    Mr. Hebert nodded, looking up from a college football game. ¡°Smells about right. Everything okay with the sides?¡±


    ¡°It all came out well,¡± she said as I sat next to her on the couch. ¡°If Rhiyen left a single lump alive, I¡¯ll eat my pillow.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I just followed the instructions I looked up.¡±


    ¡°If everyone I worked with ¡®just followed the instructions¡¯ my life would be so much easier,¡± Mr. Hebert groused with a smile.


    Soon enough, the bird was ready, and we all gathered around a well-laden table.


    ¡°Before we eat,¡± Mr. Hebert said in a solemn voice. ¡°We have a tradition of each person saying what they are thankful for that year. I¡¯ll start off. I¡¯m grateful for my health and thankful that Taylor and I are communicating better. It¡¯s been a hard couple of years since...¡± his voice trailed off and he swallowed. ¡°But now I feel we are closer than ever.¡±


    Taylor took up the reins next. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for my health as well. I¡¯m glad the running is helping me get in shape. And I¡¯m thankful that things are going better at school.¡± She swallowed and turned toward me. ¡°I¡¯m also thankful to have you as a friend, Rhiyen.¡±


    I took a deep breath. I wished she¡¯d warned me about this ahead of time. Did everyone do this around Thanksgiving? ¡°I¡¯m very grateful for my health,¡± I agreed, ¡°and particularly thankful for Steve the night watchman who helped me out of the bay.¡± I added with a shaky laugh. ¡°I¡¯m thankful to be here with you all today, and I¡¯m thankful I got to know you, Taylor.¡±


    Her smile was like the sun coming up. My mouth felt a little dry and I had to take a drink of water.


    Mr. Hebert carved the turkey, and we dug into the food. It was really/ good, and the company made it better.


    O*O*O


    When we finished eating, put away the leftovers, and cleaned the dishes, it was well past dark. Taylor spoke to her father as I rinsed the last fork and insisted that they were going to drive me home.


    ¡°It¡¯s not really necessary,¡± I said.


    ¡°Rhiyen,¡± she began patiently, ¡°I remember what you said about the buses, and I don¡¯t want you walking home alone.¡±


    I fought down a surge of irritation. She was just concerned. ¡°I was able to walk here no problem,¡± I began reasonably.


    ¡°But it¡¯s dark now, and you just had a big meal,¡± she countered.


    At that point, I surrendered to the inevitable. I didn¡¯t want her to worry, and she didn¡¯t know she really didn¡¯t need to worry about me. It was getting complicated, and I felt a little like a fraud. Maybe we¡¯d have time to talk during the winter break.


    Taylor and Danny, as he insisted that I now call him, drove me home to the Landry¡¯s house. I sat in the front seat to navigate the way, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. I had the feeling he wanted to meet my foster-parents, and I had no idea how that would go.


    To my surprise, Mr. Landry met us at the door after Danny pulled into the driveway. Charles Landry was a large, florid man with a neatly trimmed beard who worked as an accountant for a firm downtown. He stayed on the porch.


    ¡°You must be Mr. Hebert,¡± he said, looking down at us as we got out of the car.


    ¡°Danny Hebert,¡± he said, introducing himself. ¡°And this is my daughter Taylor.¡±


    Taylor gave a little curtsey. ¡°Happy Thanksgiving.¡±


    ¡°Charles Landry,¡± my foster parent replied. ¡°Good of you to host young Ryan.¡±


    ¡°It was no trouble,¡± Danny assured him.


    ¡°I see,¡± Landry said. ¡°I would invite you in, but my wife is suffering from a headache and retired early. I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±


    ¡°We understand,¡± Danny replied, clearly reading the dismissal for what it was.


    I turned toward them. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said sheepishly. ¡°Thanks for the ride.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem,¡± Danny said.


    Taylor gave me a quick hug, as she was shivering. ¡°Want to go to the library tomorrow?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yeah, we still have that paper for Gladly,¡± I answered as I squeezed her back. They got back in their car as I walked up the porch steps and followed Mr. Landry into the house. In the living room, his wife, Dolores, didn¡¯t spare a glance away from the television show she was engrossed in. I turned to look at her husband, who was gazing at me, waiting for me to call him out for his obvious lie.


    I turned and walked to my room and shut the door.


    O*O*O


    December was more of the same routine, with some differences. Several times our morning running plans were aborted in favor of shoveling snow together, starting with Danny¡¯s driveway. If the snow forecast was heavy enough to chance the buses not running, I just woke up a little earlier and made like a snow-rabbit. Clearing snow was a good upper-body and back workout, but one I adapted to a lot easier than Taylor. I was glad to take on more of the labor and we usually had enough time to clear the paths for some of their neighbors that had trouble doing it themselves.


    Unfortunately, Taylor ended up sore the first time we did this, and we got grilled by Danny a bit. After that, despite her insistence that she was fine, I made sure she didn¡¯t overdo it. And we did much more extensive upper body cooldown exercises afterward.


    After I made an offhand comment about following her into the shower with a jar of liniment if she didn¡¯t take better care of herself, she calmed down a bit. I wonder why?


    Of course, the Landrys soon noted that I was the first one awake most weekday mornings, so clearing their driveway was added to my daily chores list. I had to set my alarm another fifteen minutes earlier. After Thanksgiving, I tried to avoid them as much as possible.


    Schoolwork became more hectic as the end of semester exams approached. The teachers made it very clear that our finals would be a large part of our grades and that we needed to be prepared. It became clear that it was also affecting more than just us. The bullying attempts from the Witches Three and their minions started to trail off and became nonexistent. It was a little odd, but apparently even they needed to buckle down if they wanted to pass their classes.


    We didn¡¯t have a chance to study together after school at the library. The weather was uncertain enough to discourage staying out too long as evening approached. So, I started seeing very little of Taylor outside of school and exercising, which bothered me a little. Finally, I asked her on the bus, where I had little expectation of being overheard, if she had plans for the Christmas break.


    ¡°Not really,¡± she replied, huddling down in her coat. Danny was right about the bus heaters struggling with the winter air.


    ¡°Would it be possible to meet up?¡± I asked. ¡°Maybe try to get ahead on next semester?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I¡¯m kind of tired of freezing walking to and from the library. I¡¯ll ask Dad if we can just study at home.¡±


    My eyebrows raised a little at this. No unsupervised home visits were an unspoken boundary Danny seemed to prefer. We¡¯d only really pushed it once when Taylor told me about her mom ¨C she¡¯d also shown me some pictures and keepsakes of Annette Hebert.


    Taylor seemed to notice my expression. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Dad; I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll mind. You really made a good impression on him on Thanksgiving.¡± She paused, her teeth worrying at her lower lip for a moment. ¡°I think he might have glanced in the kitchen a few times. You know, when you said you wished you¡¯d had a chance to meet Mom.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, swallowing. Taylor hugged me after that, and I¡¯d returned the embrace. It wasn¡¯t a quick one either. At least he hadn¡¯t turfed me out of the house on the spot. ¡°If he¡¯s okay with it, it would be nice to get a chance to talk as well.¡± I tried to give an encouraging smile as I said that. I knew enough about how Taylor¡¯s mind worked that saying we needed to have a serious talk would make her crazy anxious, thinking she¡¯d done something wrong, and that I wanted to disassociate myself from her. Her self-esteem was still fragile, damn those stinking primates to hell.


    In fact, my mind was pretty much made up. I liked what I¡¯d seen so far, and I was interested in getting to know her better ¨C and maybe pursuing a relationship. The real question was whether she¡¯d feel the same after all my cards were on the table.


    O*O*O


    Taylor sat cross-legged on the couch; her math textbook balanced on her lap. The soft hum of the evening news played in the background, blending with the quiet rustle of her dad sipping coffee in his armchair. She flipped a page, the words blurring slightly as her mind drifted. She glanced up at her dad, who seemed relaxed, and content with the moment. Now was probably the best time to ask.


    ¡°Hey, Dad?¡± she said, trying to sound casual.


    ¡°Hm?¡± he replied, not looking up from his mug.


    Taylor fiddled with the corner of her book. ¡°I was thinking... maybe over winter break, Rhiyen and I could study together? You know, catch up on school stuff, maybe get ahead for next semester?¡± Her voice was steady, but she could feel her heartbeat quicken.


    Danny finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Study, huh?¡±


    Taylor nodded quickly. ¡°Yeah. He¡¯s good at math, and I can help him with World Affairs. It¡¯s getting too cold to ride the bus to the library to study together.¡±


    Her dad¡¯s lips curled into a small smirk, which was the first sign of trouble. He put his coffee down. ¡°Sure, makes sense. Just promise me one thing, kiddo¡ªdon¡¯t make me a grandfather while you¡¯re ¡®studying.¡¯¡± His fingers made quotation marks to emphasize the point.


    Taylor¡¯s face instantly went hot. She dropped her book onto the cushion beside her and groaned, hiding her face in her hands. ¡°Daaaad! Seriously?¡±


    He chuckled a deep, amused sound that made her simultaneously want to laugh and sink into the floor. ¡°What? I¡¯m just being a responsible parent.¡±


    Peeking through her fingers, Taylor shot him a glare, though the heat in her cheeks refused to subside. ¡°We¡¯re not like that! It¡¯s just school stuff!¡±


    Danny grinned, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Uh-huh. I¡¯m just saying, I was your age once too, you know.¡±


    Taylor groaned again, louder this time, but a reluctant smile crept onto her face. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re fun to tease,¡± he shot back, picking up his mug again. ¡°If you want to study with Rhiyen, it¡¯s fine by me. Just keep it PG.¡±


    ¡°Daaaaaad,¡± Taylor whined, but the playful edge in her voice gave her away.


    Danny chuckled again, the sound filling the room. Taylor couldn¡¯t help but laugh, shaking her head as she picked up her textbook. When her dad headed into the kitchen to do the dishes, she started pacing around the room in unexpected agitation. She noticed the clutter on the coffee table.


    She straightened things in the living room, stacking some novels on the end table next to the couch. While she was gathering papers from the coffee table, her mind kept circling back to the idea of having Rhiyen here¡ªalone. The thought made her stomach flip in a way she wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to interpret.


    Her dad had given permission, teasing her in that embarrassing way he always did, and she¡¯d convinced herself it was just for school. But now the reality was sinking in. The thought of Rhiyen sitting next to her, his quiet confidence and warmth filling the space, made her chest feel tight and her hands a little shaky. Would he notice how awkward she was? Would he feel out of place? Her cheeks burned as she tried to shove the thoughts aside, smoothing a wrinkle from the couch cushion. She tried to ignore the flutter of nerves and focus on making the room look inviting.


    O*O*O


    The end of term exams went a little easier than expected. Removing the distractions from constant bullying attempts improved our grades ¨C who would have thunk it? Sarcasm aside, I was grateful for the reprieve, especially for Taylor. Conflict, especially the constant low-level provocations, seemed to bother her more than me.


    Sometimes I wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with me, given how much I enjoyed fighting. Was it nature, given my unusual birth, or nurture, growing up with an absent mother and laissez-faire father like Harry? I liked to think that it was all right if I confined it to people that had done something to deserve it.


    Another thing to talk about with Taylor. The thought of opening myself up like this made me nervous, but I had a sense that there was a narrowing window where I could come clean about things before she would feel deceived.


    Of course, Taylor noticed how broody I was being, and asked about it on the bus ride home after the last day of classes.


    ¡°Rhiyen, are you all right?¡± she asked in a low tone. The ambient noise level on the old city bus was enough to guarantee a modicum of privacy along with the occasional headache.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I tried to reassure her. ¡°Just have a lot on my mind.¡± That last bit was the wrong thing to say, however, because I could see the worry line appear between her eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to next week.¡±


    She nodded slowly and relaxed a little. ¡°I talked to Dad, he¡¯s fine if you stay over after running,¡± she said. By the way she swallowed and blushed a little, I suspected he talked to her about more than that. ¡°We¡¯re meeting up with Kurt and Lacey, they¡¯re with the Dockworker¡¯s Union, this weekend to set things up for the big Christmas party.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like fun,¡± I said.


    ¡°It really is,¡± she said. ¡°Money¡¯s tight this year, but they are still getting everyone together for a toy drive and a big potluck dinner.¡± She paused. ¡°I¡¯d ask if you wanted to come, but it¡¯s for union members and dependents only.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± I said quickly. ¡°You and Danny would be the only people there that I knew. And inviting me to Thanksgiving was more than enough holiday cheer.¡± Without quite realizing what I was doing, I wrapped my fingers around her slightly chilly hand.


    Taylor¡¯s expression went from anxious to startled. She closed her fingers around mine.


    Something about seeing her in distress seemed to override my normal desire to not make a fool of myself.


    ¡°Your hand¡¯s cold,¡± I said. Twice dammit! What the hell is wrong with me?


    ¡°Your hand¡¯s really warm,¡± she said back. Okay, at least I wasn¡¯t the only one indulging in braindead commentary.


    An older Hispanic lady across the aisle was now watching us with a big grin on her face. I hoped she was enjoying the show.


    Our stop could not come soon enough.

 Chapter 6

    Chapter 6


    The weekend couldn¡¯t pass fast enough. When I dropped Taylor off Friday afternoon, she was quiet but gave me a lingering hug goodbye on the front porch. As I was heading home, I stopped by the library and asked if they needed any help over the holidays. I was lucky enough to run into my old supervisor, Mrs. Andreas, who was pleased to see me. I was still in the payroll system, so she reactivated me and told me she already had shifts for me to cover that weekend and the following Wednesday. She wanted me to check back with her on Wednesday, so she¡¯d have time to contact staff members who¡¯d been denied time off for the holidays due to staffing.


    ¡°Why are you having so much trouble with staffing?¡± I asked her.


    She sighed. A short trim older woman with grey hair and eyes, she looked wearier than I¡¯d ever seen her over the summer. ¡°We hosted a travelling exhibition this fall concerning the Holocaust. It was initially well received in the community, but since then certain parties have let their displeasure be known. We¡¯ve had some disreputable types hanging around, especially in the evenings, harassing the staff.¡± She paused. ¡°Nothing overt, mind you, and nothing we can really take to the police. But if you prefer to avoid the situation, I will understand.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Screw those guys, I need the money.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Mrs. Andreas said with a faint smile. ¡°There are some revised security policies I¡¯ll go over with you when you come in tomorrow. And thank you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied. At least I¡¯d be too busy to brood this weekend. I wasn¡¯t kidding about the money either. While I theoretically had enough to support my mac and cheese habit until next summer, I needed to get something for Taylor and Danny for Christmas. And maybe something small for Jared. He¡¯d given me some good advice over the semester.


    After that, I made my way back to the Landry¡¯s in time for dinner. The chore chart said I needed to retrieve the garbage cans, so I did while Jared helped Mrs. Landry finish prepping a large pot of chili. That done, I distributed the folded laundry to everyone¡¯s rooms and emptied the hampers. I started a load and let one of the younger fosters know it was going. Since that was technically their job, they didn¡¯t complain. I knew they were studying for a make-up exam they¡¯d missed due to illness.


    I kind of zoned out through dinner and the wash-up after. I still wasn¡¯t sure how I would explain some of the more bizarre elements of my past. Hell, mentally I was a couple or three years older than my apparent age. Though given my immaturity and crappy study habits I¡¯m not sure if that even counts anymore.


    As I tried to fall asleep, I finally asked myself the right question. Did I trust Taylor enough to give me a fair hearing? Put that way, the answer was simple. I knew I could, so whatever happened, happened.


    O*O*O


    I slept as late as I was allowed on a weekend, which wasn¡¯t very. So, I had plenty of time to shower and dress before I had to head over to the library. Mr. Landry asked where I was going with a suspicious look but seemed surprised when I said I was picking up a shift at the Brockton Bay Central Library. The weather outside was cold and overcast, but it still felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the building where I slept.


    I arrived early and Mrs. Andreas briefed me in on the new security measures. Basically, no one worked closing alone anymore, and no one went to the employee parking lot after dark by themselves. A speed dial entry for the Brockton Bay Police Department had been added to all the phones for situations that didn¡¯t quite require 911.


    To my surprise, I wasn¡¯t re-shelving anymore. I was working at the check-out desk with her. It soon became apparent why, because we were busy as hell. With the younger kids out on break and college students visiting home, a lot of people were looking for free reading material. Reshelving returned books now happened in the mornings and late evenings when it was slower.


    This suited me down to my toes, because I could immerse myself in the moment and stop worrying about Monday. By the time the rush ended, it was nearly ten p.m. We were closing soon, so Mrs. Andreas gathered all the employees up and made sure no one left until we were all ready to leave. The four of us all left via the side entrance toward the gated employee parking lot. On the corner, I could see a number of figures watching us. In the admittedly poor lighting, it looked like they were sporting Empire Eighty-Eight colors. I was scowling at them when Mrs. Andreas caught my attention.


    ¡°Are you planning to walk home?¡± she asked incredulously.


    ¡°Or take the bus if it¡¯s running,¡± I replied.


    ¡°After I told you about those thugs,¡± she added in a flat voice.


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not like I have a lot of options,¡± I said.


    ¡°Get in,¡± she commanded briskly. When I hesitated, she added, ¡°or I¡¯ll take you off the schedule.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am,¡± I capitulated, walking around to the other side of her hatchback as the group approached. The engine caught immediately as I climbed in, and she sped out of the parking lot before they got too close. The automatic gate closed behind us.


    After we were a few blocks away, Mrs. Andreas asked where I lived.


    ¡°You can just drop me here, I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said as the heater struggled to warm the frigid car.


    ¡°Nonsense. I can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t at least make arrangements to get picked up,¡± she said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not something my guardians would be up for,¡± I replied coolly.


    ¡°I see. Well, as your manager and a responsible adult, I will be seeing that you make it home. So, the sooner I know where to take you, the sooner I can get home myself.¡±


    I sighed and gave in to the inevitable.


    When we pulled up in front of the Landry¡¯s, I stopped before I exited. ¡°Thanks for the ride.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I was glad to do so, Mr. Conner. Don¡¯t be too proud to accept help that is freely given.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°Duly noted, Mrs. Andreas,¡± I said.


    O*O*O


    Sunday was a little awkward. Mrs. Andreas had always been very professional and business-like with me in the past. So, the unexpected favor was passing odd. But she was all business when I returned to work, even more so because two staffers had called out sick, so we were short-handed. But I was in earshot when she took one of those calls, and she was unexpectedly understanding. The group watching us leave last night was apparently larger than before, perhaps swelled by some of my classmates from Winslow, and that spooked one of the young women.


    Apparently, Mrs. Andreas did care about her employees but hid it behind a business-like fa?ade. That made a little more sense.


    Still, that left just the two of us on closing. Sunday evenings were usually not as busy at the library and the schedule reflected that. When nine o¡¯clock rolled around, we quickly locked the doors and shut everything down. But when we left the side exit onto the small employee lot, I noticed the automatic gate had been forced open.


    ¡°Hello, Miss Librarian,¡± a voice from the side called out, ¡°Been wanting to talk to you.¡± Mrs. Andreas paled as I turned. Five guys stepped forward into view from the side of the building where they¡¯d been waiting for us. There were enough skinheads and tattoos among them that I didn¡¯t need the red and black patches on their jackets to identify their gang affiliation. But I did see one familiar face in the rear.


    ¡°Hello Eric,¡± I called out loudly as I began to shrug out of my parka.


    ¡°Eric? You know this guy? Is he one of us?¡± the owner of the first voice asked.


    ¡°Conner?¡± Eric asked in surprise. ¡°Shit. No, he ain¡¯t. He goes to Winslow though.¡±


    I took off my parka and folded it, then tossed it to Mrs. Andreas, who was shrinking back toward the locked door. There was no way she could unlock it before they were all over us. She fumbled with the bundled fabric for a moment. My breath streamed out of my mouth as I stood warily in my shirtsleeves, hands balled into fists. I was only dimly aware of the frigid air surrounding us.


    ¡°You looking to fight or freeze first?¡± the leader called out. He was well over six feet with a shaved head, wearing a leather jacket and biker boots. He pulled a chain out of his jacket, wrapping one end around his right hand.


    ¡°The parka was a gift. I don¡¯t want to get blood on it,¡± I said as I eased one foot forward, bracing myself.


    ¡°Kirk,¡± Eric said quickly. ¡°This dude¡¯s crazy. He went after the whole track team for harassing his girlfriend-¡°


    ¡°Get him!¡± Kirk ordered. They obediently charged, though Eric seemed a bit reluctant.


    I moved.


    I ducked as Kirk¡¯s chain whizzed over my head. That left his midsection open, so I obliged him by burying my fist in his stomach. He staggered back, vomit erupting from his mouth. I side-stepped the knife from my left and took the high punch from the right on my shoulder. It rocked me pretty good, but I kept my footing as I backpedaled. My shoulder hurt, but it was functional.


    The knife was the priority as Eric and the last guy steadied Kirk. I lashed out a low kick at the leading ankle of the knife-wielder. It connected with a crack and buckled a little to the side. This gave me the distraction that I needed to grab the wrist of the knife-hand as he stumbled. He tried to pull back and cut me, but I instead dug my fingers into the tendons in his wrist.


    I saw stars as the right-hand guy¡¯s next punch struck my head above the ear as I tried to move too late. Blinking, I pivoted my whole body to the right, hauling the knife-wielder off his feet and slammed him into the puncher. There was an explosive exhalation of breath, and I heard the telltale clatter of the knife hitting the pavement. I let go and stepped back again, trying to make sure I didn¡¯t run into anything.


    My vision cleared and Kirk was still holding his stomach and heaving. My two attackers were a groaning heap on the ground. Eric looked like he¡¯d seen a ghost, and the last guy was pulling a small-caliber pistol out of his waistband ¨C but his hands were shaking so badly it was a wonder he hadn¡¯t shot himself or dropped it.


    I glared at the guy with the pistol, making sure Mrs. Andreas wasn¡¯t directly behind me. ¡°Do you really want to escalate things?¡± I asked him. ¡°Fire that gun and I will guarantee you leave in a body bag.¡± I was visualizing how to do it too. Kirk could be used as cover if I came in from my left side, his right. Five steps if I get a good launch. He gets one, maybe two shots off. His accuracy will be crap, even at this range.


    ¡°Chuck,¡± Eric cut in. ¡°It¡¯s not worth it. Kirk, we were just supposed to send a message. I think they got the message, right Conner?¡±


    ¡°I heard it loud and clear,¡± I said, eyes locked on Chuck as he tried to steady his grip on the cheap revolver. ¡°Did you hear it, Boss?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes, I heard the message,¡± Mrs. Andreas said, her voice quiet, but steady.


    ¡°Kaiser didn¡¯t want us to hurt anyone too bad the first time,¡± Kirk growled, glaring at me. ¡°Count yourself lucky. Next time a sucker-punch won¡¯t save you, race-traitor.¡±


    As the two guys on the ground groaned and started sorting themselves out, Mrs. Andreas cut around the whole melee and headed toward her car. Using the sound of her footsteps, I moved so I was always between her and the gangers. I was impressed that she kept it down to a brisk walk. I backed away as the car started and then dived in the open passenger door as she pulled up. She peeled out of the parking lot.


    As soon as we were out of sight, she immediately slowed down and let out the shuddering breath she had been holding. ¡°Mr. Conner, with all due respect, what the hell was that?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Aggressive negotiations?¡±


    ¡°This is not a time to be flippant!¡± she snapped.


    ¡°Sorry, Mrs. Andreas. I¡¯m still winding down myself,¡± I admitted. ¡°I wasn¡¯t just going to let them do whatever they planned to do to you.¡±


    ¡°While I appreciate the sentiment, the fact remains that I am an adult and your employer,¡± she said evenly. ¡°My safety is not your personal responsibility.¡±


    ¡°You also weren¡¯t responsible for driving me home last night or tonight, yet here we are,¡± I said blandly.


    ¡°The fact that remains is that you are a child, and as such are my responsibility. I will not have you¡­ sacrificing¡­ yourself on my behalf.¡± She seemed to pause and have difficulty continuing toward the end.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about me, is it?¡±


    She was quiet for a long minute. ¡°I suppose I had that coming,¡± she finally admitted. ¡°I was married once. One evening as we were leaving a restaurant, we were accosted by a street criminal with a gun and forced into an alleyway. When he alluded to taking certain¡­ liberties¡­ with me, my Franklin grabbed for the gun. They struggled, and it went off. A day doesn¡¯t go by when I wished he had not intervened and made me bury him.¡±


    I blinked. Holy hell, that was awful. I could start to see why she was so formal with everyone. She liked to keep that distance. ¡°He was a brave man,¡± I ventured lamely.


    ¡°I would trade that bravery for the rest of him a thousand times over,¡± she said firmly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he could have been the man you knew and not acted,¡± I hypothesized. ¡°Just like I can¡¯t be someone who would stand by and let that happen.¡±


    She pursed her lips. ¡°Brave fools, but fools nonetheless.¡±


    That pretty much killed any conversation for a while until we were almost to the Landry¡¯s. Mrs. Andreas stopped me as I was about to get out of the car.


    ¡°Please do not mistake my upset for a lack of appreciation for your intervention,¡± she said after visibly gathering herself. ¡°I will be taking steps to ensure that this is never to recur. I will contact city administrators to have a police vehicle stationed at the employee parking lot at closing time.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°That would certainly help. Are you sure they will approve it? I keep hearing how tight the police budget is¡­¡±


    ¡°If they do not agree,¡± she said, ¡°then I will cash in my pension and move to some place safe. Like Detroit.¡±


    I looked at her in mounting horror. ¡°My God, the library will fall to pieces if you leave.¡±


    ¡°I suspect they are aware of that,¡± she agreed, ¡°which allows me some leverage.¡±


    O*O*O


    I woke up a little later than normal for a weekday on Monday. Running a little later in the day was an option since we didn¡¯t have school. So, I arrived at the Hebert¡¯s just as Danny was preparing to leave for work. He greeted me warmly enough, but I thought I could still feel his eyes judging my intentions. I couldn¡¯t really resent it. If, in some far-flung future, I had a daughter, I¡¯d probably be much worse.


    We started warming up after he left. My right shoulder twinged a few times as I worked the stiffness out of the fading bruises. If Taylor noticed, she didn¡¯t say anything. She seemed a little distracted. Finally, we started our run. The light was a bit better than we¡¯ve dealt with lately, which was welcome. We were coming up on the shortest days of the year right before Christmas.


    There were a few more people than we¡¯d been seeing lately, but they mainly ignored us. Which was good, because my situational awareness was crap today. This, despite the fight less than twelve hours ago. My rebellious brain was mulling over Taylor¡¯s possible reactions to what I had to say. These ranged from the naively optimistic to the ridiculously disastrous. One thought that helped me settle myself was that at least I would know soon.


    So, I was wary, but resolute as we returned to the house and did our cooldown exercises in the living room. Taylor, still wearing that ridiculous balaclava, started to leave to take her shower, but I stopped her.


    ¡°You realize a little sweaty hat hair isn¡¯t going to send me screaming out of the house, right?¡± I asked in a teasing tone.


    Taylor sighed, then removed her glasses with one hand and pulled off the knitted headwear with the other. Her hair, once released from its messy bun, was indeed a sweaty tangled mess. She stared at me defiantly, as if daring me to tease her about it.


    Instead, I slowly reached up with my right hand and carded my fingers through the tangled hair above her left ear. I slowly lifted it away, letting it untangle without snarling or pulling. Her unfocused eyes widened a little and I wasn¡¯t sure if her lower lip was trembling or not. Then she spun and practically ran up the stairs.


    Rhiyen 1, Taylor¡¯s Low Self Esteem 0!


    When she came back down and told me the shower was free, Taylor had difficulty meeting my eyes. I just gave her a smile and headed up the stairs myself, holding my backpack.


    I was feeling a little smug about my well-executed compliment but soon sobered as I got under the lukewarm water. That might have been my last opportunity to do so if my revelations freaked her out. I scrubbed fiercely at my scalp, as if that would drive the negative thoughts from my mind. I¡¯d already slept poorly worrying about what might happen. I needed to stop torturing myself, do it, and then pick up the pieces as best I could.


    When I came back down, Taylor had a plate of what smelled like tuna salad sandwiches and a couple of cokes on the coffee table. She was sitting on the couch, running a thumb along the seam on the knee of her jeans. Why was she nervous? Was she picking it up from me? In that case I needed to get a hold of myself.


    She had her math book on her lap when I sat down beside her. Not too close, but not too far either. ¡°Before we get started,¡± I began, ¡°I think there are some things we need to talk about.¡±


    Taylor blinked and swallowed, her eyes shiny behind the reflections of her glasses. ¡°Oh-okay,¡± she said in an unsteady voice.


    ¡°There are some things about myself that I haven¡¯t been exactly honest about,¡± I continued.


    ¡°I understand,¡± she said quickly, even as her face fell. ¡°It¡¯s not easy, even now. We can still be friends, at least?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked.


    Now she looked confused. ¡°You¡¯re not coming out?¡±


    I put my face in my hands. I didn¡¯t know at this point whether to laugh or cry. ¡°No, Taylor, I am not coming out.¡±


    ¡°Then why all the talk about secrets?¡±


    I looked up. ¡°I am trying to tell you things about myself that no one in the world knows. Because everything I¡¯ve read tells me that relationships built on lies never go well.¡± At this point I was beyond caring that my face was bright red as well.


    ¡°Relationships?¡± she asked in a small voice.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said firmly. ¡°And, uh, more than just the friendship we already have.¡± I paused. ¡°If you are not interested, just say the word and we can avoid all this awkwardness.¡±


    There was a long pause as Taylor digested this. Had I misread everything?


    Then she swallowed. ¡°I- I am,¡± she said, reaching out and taking my hand.


    A tension in my midsection that I hadn¡¯t even noticed began to relax a little. ¡°Okay, but you are allowed to change your mind. There¡¯s some¡­ weird¡­ stuff.¡±


    Taylor didn¡¯t say anything and just squeezed my hand.


    ¡°I lied to the police and social services about having amnesia. You are familiar with alternate Earths, right?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You mean like Earth-Aleph?¡± she replied, confused.


    ¡°Kind of like that,¡± I answered. ¡°I was found as a baby in the woods by my adopted father in 1982. I grew up in Glenridge, Missouri.¡±


    Taylor¡¯s eyes widened in horror.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother looking for it,¡± I continued, tearing off the Band-Aid. ¡°There is no Glenridge, Missouri in this world. Likewise, there was no Brockton Bay in that world.¡± I paused. ¡°If my memory serves,¡± I continued, ¡°there was a city called Portsmouth in the same location in New Hampshire.¡±


    ¡°Are you really twenty-eight years old?¡± she asked, her voice rising.


    ¡°No!¡± I said quickly. ¡°I died in the spring of 2000. I think. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the Bay and it¡¯s 2010. I don¡¯t know how I ended up here. Maybe my world runs on a different timeline. Maybe whatever brought me here took ten years to do it. I do know that I¡¯m a little shorter than I remember being. And the doctors that examined me estimated my age to be sixteen at most.¡±


    It took Taylor a moment to digest all that. But when she did, she seemed to calm down a bit. ¡°Why are you only telling me? And why only now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Because I didn¡¯t want to draw attention to myself more than I already had,¡± I explained. ¡°Then, I did some research once I got access to a library. The legal penalties for unregulated travel between earths are pretty draconian.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Taylor agreed, ¡°Especially after Professor Haywire almost started a war with Earth-Aleph. But it¡¯s not like you created the situation, right?¡±


    I shrugged uncomfortably. Now we get into the weird part. ¡°I also don¡¯t like drawing attention to myself. Especially from the authorities. I never have. You see, my world never developed parahumans.¡±


    ¡°None?¡± she asked, startled. ¡°At all? Not even a few like Earth-Aleph?¡±


    ¡°Not a single one. Not even a Scion,¡± I confirmed. ¡°So, when I started doing some unusual things, my friends and I were worried I¡¯d end up in a government lab somewhere.¡±


    Taylor swallowed. ¡°What kind of unusual things?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m faster and stronger than normal,¡± I replied. ¡°Not like a cape ¨C nowhere near those levels ¨C but, for example, I got into a fight with some guys on the football team and trashed them. Heat and cold don¡¯t really bother me. My senses, especially my sense of smell, are a lot sharper than normal. I started healing faster than normal as well.¡±


    Taylor leaned in, now totally focused on my words. ¡°How did you discover all that?¡± she asked.


    ¡°There were some disappearances around town, so over the summer I began keeping an eye out. Eventually I spotted some figures skulking around in the dark near my house. I chased after them-¡°


    Taylor cut me off. ¡°You what?¡± she asked incredulously.


    ¡°Hey, this was the Midwest in the late nineties. It was nothing like Brockton Bay,¡± I argued. ¡°At least, until I got jumped.¡±


    I stopped myself. I was going into too much detail. If she wanted to know more later, that would be different. Better to cut to the chase. No matter how much it hurt.


    ¡°To make a long story short, the guy behind the disappearances turned out to be something like a supervillain. On PHO, Sen Arashi would be a Master with aerokinetic powers as well. He¡¯d create minions by changing people into beast-men that would serve him until dying or being wounded enough to jolt them out of it. I didn¡¯t discover the latter until I¡¯d already had to kill a lot of them. They were bigger and stronger, covered with fur and sharp claws. But I¡¯d always heal up in a day or so if I didn¡¯t lose too much blood and had enough to eat.¡±


    Taylor winced in sympathy. ¡°So, all the disappearances were him recruiting?¡±


    I nodded, swallowing hard. The air seemed to get thicker, the more we spoke. ¡°The bodies always turned to dust as well, so no proof for the authorities. And no closure for the families.¡±


    Taylor squeezed my hand. ¡°Here, he¡¯d get the Birdcage for sure. If not an outright kill order,¡± she whispered fiercely.


    I grimaced. ¡°Easier said than done. My last memories come from him catching me and Karen near the lake.¡± I stopped to take a breath, feeling my face grow hot. ¡°I tried to charge him when he used his cutting winds¡­ but some went wide and¡­ tore Karen to pieces,¡± I paused as I clamped my teeth together and inhaled through my nose. I could still hear her dying, falling to the ground in pieces. Wet pieces of meat thumping on the grass. I stared into Taylor¡¯s horrified eyes. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why she didn¡¯t stay behind me!¡±


    The next thing I knew, Taylor was practically climbing into my lap and hugging my burning face to her chest. I¡¯d like to pretend that hot tears weren¡¯t leaking out from under my eyelids, but that would be a lie. I just wrapped my arms around her and held on. I¡¯d never talked to anyone about that night before, and it hurt worse than I could imagine. What was happening to me?


    As the ache of regrets and recriminations ebbed, I remembered where I was, and they were replaced with the burn of shame. Taylor did not need to see me falling to pieces like this, dammit. I loosened my death grip and leaned back a little.


    If Taylor was sickened by my weakness, she was a better actress than I imagined. Her hands rested comfortably on my shoulders, thumbs rubbing little circles on my collarbones. ¡°Was Karen your girlfriend?¡± she asked softly, no hint of accusation in her voice.


    ¡°No,¡± I said in a defeated tone. ¡°Maybe if I¡¯d been less of an idiot. I think we were moving in that direction. But I was kind of a mercenary ass to her and Howard, at first.¡±


    ¡°You? Mercenary?¡± Taylor asked curiously.


    I grimaced. ¡°My nerds were two of the smartest kids in the school. They also got bullied mercilessly for it. I was failing and the principal had a grudge against me and my father, so I was headed for Juvie if I didn¡¯t pass. So, I cut a deal with them. They help me study and I keep the mouth-breathers off their backs.¡±


    ¡°And did you?¡± Taylor asked.


    I gave a pained, wistful smile. ¡°Oh yeah. I had to knock some heads together, but it was worth it. But my ego wouldn¡¯t let me accept that we¡¯d become friends, so I insisted I was just honoring ¡®The Deal¡¯. But really, that all went out the window when we started investigating Sen Arashi.¡±


    Taylor shook her head. ¡°I think they both knew it was a polite fiction by that point. I mean, you died trying to block that attack from hitting Karen.¡±


    ¡°Well, not exactly,¡± I admitted. ¡°When I realized she¡­ was gone¡­ my vision went red, and I started changing.¡±


    Taylor¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Changing? How?¡±


    ¡°I started getting scaly and sprouted two wings and a tail. Some kind of flying lizard.¡±


    ¡°A flying lizard?¡± Taylor asked, shaking her head. ¡°You mean, like a dragon?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a small one. Small-ish. No bigger than a car.¡±


    ¡°Then what happened?¡± she asked, her hands squeezing my shoulders again.


    ¡°I threw Sen Arashi around a little bit¡­ then he turned into an Eastern dragon. A big one. Like a freight train with teeth. We both took to the air, with him chasing me. He was faster, but I was more maneuverable. I managed to tear out one of his eyes and make us both crash into the lake. I forced him to the bottom until he stopped moving. But I didn¡¯t make it back to the surface either.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s how you died?¡± Taylor asked in a small voice.


    ¡°My next memories are being hauled out of the bay last Summer,¡± I confirmed.


    ¡°Can you do it again?¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Change. Here.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯d prefer not to. One, I¡¯m not sure there is enough room. Two, I¡¯m not sure how to initiate the change without being consumed with rage. And three, I have no idea how ¨C or if I even can ¨C change back.¡±


    Taylor looked disappointed but nodded. ¡°Those are good reasons,¡± she agreed.


    I knew she wasn¡¯t asking for proof, but this was such a bizarre story she had to have doubts. I know I would. ¡°Let¡¯s go to the kitchen,¡± I suggested. ¡°I want to show you something.¡±


    After we got awkwardly disentangled, I led Taylor to the stove. I turned on one of the front burners and slowly lowered my bare hand into the flames. As I expected, they only felt warm and slightly ticklish. I glanced over at Taylor. Her mouth was hanging open. ¡°I¡¯ll never lie to you,¡± I promised quietly.


    O*O*O


    Taylor felt like her emotions had been tied to a runaway roller coaster, climbing, plummeting, and looping in ways she couldn¡¯t control. She started the day brimming with a nervous excitement, anticipating the study session after their run. Then after teasing her about the balaclava, Rhiyen¡¯s casual gesture, brushing his fingers through her sweaty hair had made her breathless, and warmth flooded her chest, her cheeks burning. She had pulled back, heart racing, embarrassment and attraction tangling in her mind like a storm. She was so flustered that she retreated to the bathroom to calm herself. The sensation lingered far longer than she liked to admit.


    She drowned the heated thoughts that his touch raised by taking a deliberately chilly shower. As she dried off, her thoughts returned to the brooding, far-off look that he¡¯d worn through most of their morning run. A nagging anxiety twisted knots in her stomach. Something was bothering him, but she couldn¡¯t figure out what. He had been quiet lately, more thoughtful, and sometimes she caught him staring off into space with an expression she could not quite read.


    A quiet fear took root that maybe he felt he couldn¡¯t speak with her about it, because she was the source of the upset. She knew she wasn¡¯t as interesting as someone else might be. The idea stung, but she couldn¡¯t shake it¡ªwhat if whatever was weighing on him included her? She didn¡¯t want to push but hoped that he would eventually share it.


    Just when she thought she¡¯d found her footing again, he dropped the bombshell that he had been keeping secrets. Her heart sank in unexpected disappointment. He was gay. She would be supportive, hoping they could stay friends, even if she wanted more than he could give her. Then surprise and the wings of fragile hope beat in her chest at the possibility of building a relationship with him. Why would he choose her?


    She didn¡¯t doubt that he was telling the truth, but it was confusing. He was an accidental dimensional and time traveler from a place that didn¡¯t have capes, yet he was practically one himself. It was just like Rhiyen to discover he had powers when chasing after shady people after dark. She wondered why he risked himself so easily. Didn¡¯t he value his own health and safety?  He was practically an amateur vigilante already.


    She hadn¡¯t expected him to break down. Rhiyen always seemed so composed, so steady. But as he spoke, his voice cracked, his shoulders trembled, and he gripped his knees with tears streaking down his face. She hadn¡¯t seen him so vulnerable before, and the weight of his grief at Karen¡¯s death hit her like a wave. Her chest ached at his pain, her instincts driving her to pull him close and shield him from the world. Her heart twisted as he clung to her. He had comforted her after she found her mother¡¯s soiled flute. She wished she could take some of his pain away. When she wasn¡¯t sure what to do, she rubbed circles with her thumbs like her mother used to when she had a nightmare. It seemed to work, and he didn¡¯t push her away. Returning the favor felt good after all he had done for her.


    But the roller coaster didn¡¯t stop there. When he¡¯d finally quieted, his quiet revelation that he wasn¡¯t entirely human¡ªhe could change into a dragon¡ªset her thoughts racing in a whole new direction. Burning curiosity coursed through her veins, clashing with disbelief and a thrill of wonder. She had a hundred questions but couldn¡¯t find the words. What color was he? What did his scales feel like? Could he breathe fire?


    When he demonstrated he couldn¡¯t be burned, it struck fully home how much he was confiding to her. He had shared his trigger event with her. She only knew one thing. She was determined to prove worthy of his trust.


    O*O*O


    When we returned from the kitchen, Taylor was quiet. When we sat down again, she took my right hand, which was only slightly warm now. As she held it, she ran her fingers along the skin, as if reassuring herself it was unmarred. After a moment, she asked, ¡°Can you tell me about your friends?¡±


    I realized that I could now talk about all that happened in Glenridge, and the people that had become so important to me. Staying silent had weighed on me more than I realized, and now Taylor was offering a sympathetic ear.


    So, I told her about my adopted father, Harry-The-Hippy, about Karen and Howard, and even Tia, the young Hengeyokai girl Howard had accidentally freed from Sen Arashi¡¯s control. I tried to keep it organized, and somewhat chronological, but it soon devolved into a rambling mess.


    She was patient throughout. She just held my hand and listened. I had no idea how much of a difference that could make. Eventually, the verbal torrent died down. I stared down at our joined hands, wondering at how relaxed and emptied I felt. I ran the pad of my thumb along the base of her thumb, feeling the smooth, cool skin under mine.


    ¡°They sound like good people,¡± Taylor said into the silence that had fallen.


    ¡°Better than I deserved,¡± I agreed.


    ¡°It¡¯s also easy to see why you hate bullies,¡± she added.


    I nodded. ¡°I got bullied when I was younger and smaller by the upperclassmen whose parents hated Harry, so it¡¯s been an ongoing thing,¡± I agreed. ¡°A lot of the adults, especially at the school, were either na?ve or biased,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°Small town politics at its finest.¡±


    Taylor nodded without objecting. While I admired her resilience, she still learned from her experiences. Then she continued. ¡°I suppose seeing what you did at Winslow must have been like waving a red flag in front of a bull.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± I agreed. ¡°I know how much it wears on you. I never stopped hating the people that did it to me and mine.¡±


    Taylor frowned thoughtfully. ¡°Rhiyen, to be honest, I have to wonder. Am I just a replacement in some way for Karen?¡±


    That question threw me a little, and I felt my eyebrows rise. I paused to gather my thoughts. ¡°No, you¡¯re not. You are a lot less naive about things. You never questioned why I kept my abilities secret. She eventually agreed, but i think she always thought I was kind of paranoid. I¡¯m also a very different person now compared to when Karen and I first met. I was pretty much a completely self-centered asshole. Now, I¡¯m just a partial asshole.¡±


    That got a snort of laughter from Taylor. ¡°But I do sound a lot like how you describe her,¡± she reminded me, ¡°Quiet. Bullied a lot.¡±


    ¡°I thought about it for a moment and smiled. ¡°Maybe I just have a type?¡±


    ¡°A¡­ type?¡±


    ¡°Sweet. Sensitive. Intelligent. Introverts,¡± I listed off, looking her square in the eyes. The bullying campaign had ground her self-image into the dust, so I could see why would think this way. But Karen and I never had any conversations like this. Was Taylor the difference? Or was I just less of an asshole? Or was it both things at once? I did know that I didn¡¯t see Taylor as a stand-in for anyone else ¨C she was her own unique person that I really wanted to know better. Unwillingly, my thoughts drifted back to my breakdown earlier regarding Karen¡¯s, and ultimately my, death. No one had ever held me like that, not in my conscious memory. I¡¯d comforted Karen similarly about her brother¡¯s death, but I wasn¡¯t sure she could have done the same. I¡¯ll never know. But Taylor was here and now, and she¡¯d stepped up when I unexpectedly stumbled. No way could I forget that.


    So, when Taylor flushed at my words and hesitantly leaned in, I decided to meet her half-way. By some miracles we didn¡¯t knock heads, crack teeth, or mash noses. Instead, our lips met in possibly the most awkward kiss in recorded history.


    And it was amazing. My entire focus narrowed onto the contact between our lips, and how good it felt to hold her.


    When our lips parted, Taylor leaned back, her eyes wide behind her glasses. ¡°Um¡­ I¡­¡±


    I gave her a gentle squeeze. ¡°I think I get it now,¡± I agreed.


    ¡°Get what?¡± Taylor asked.


    ¡°The whole kissing thing,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she agreed slowly. ¡°That was my first kiss. Well, I mean, like boyfriend kiss. Was it your first?¡± she asked shyly. Her face was still flushed, but it seemed some of her awkwardness was fading.


    I nodded. ¡°My first ever. I don¡¯t think Elise ever kissed me before she took off when I was five. Harry was really laid back, but not super affectionate either.¡±


    Taylor¡¯s expression fell. ¡°Your mom abandoned you?¡± she asked in a stricken tone.


    I nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think she was ever too maternal. That¡¯s why it was nice hearing you talk about your mom. It hurts that she¡¯s gone now, but you still have a lot of great memories to share.¡±


    Taylor nodded but still looked a little guilty.


    ¡°Getting to hear about a real mother helped,¡± I continued. ¡°Next time you visit her grave, would you mind if I came and introduced myself?¡± I asked.


    Taylor¡¯s response was to lean in and hug me hard enough to make my shoulder twinge again. Totally worth it.


    O*O*O


    After that, it was hard to focus back on math and other subjects, but we did manage to make some progress. While holding hands was a little distracting, we were on vacation after all.


    Eventually, we gave it up as a bad job and ate sandwiches as we watched TV. Somehow, the hand Taylor wasn¡¯t holding ended up draped across her shoulders as she leaned into my side. She said I was warm and that definitely met with her approval. Not that I was complaining either. The feel of her under my arm was both relaxing and electrifying at the same time.


    But, given how poorly I¡¯d slept the night before, I shouldn¡¯t have been shocked that I dozed off.


    My eyes snapped open when I heard a set of keys in the lock on the front door, presumably Danny¡¯s. I took a very quick inventory of my body. Taylor was half-laying on my lap, and I was wrapped around her like a blanket. But no one¡¯s hands were in unfortunate places, so I opted to wake Taylor with a gentle squeeze. Springing apart suddenly would only make us look worse than the truth.


    Danny didn¡¯t say anything after he opened the door, but I could feel his eyes on us. I could also feel a brisk draft that made Taylor shiver and involuntarily try to burrow into me.


    ¡°Taylor, Darlin¡¯,¡± I murmured, ¡°you need to wake up. Your dad¡¯s home.¡±


    She stirred a little more, then went rigid and sat up so fast our skulls nearly collided. She blinked myopically as we separated, so I reached out and plucked her glasses off the coffee table and handed them to her.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she whispered as she put them on and faced her father. ¡°Hi Dad,¡± she said nervously.


    ¡°Just school stuff, huh?¡± he asked with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°We fell asleep,¡± she admitted lamely.


    ¡°That looked pretty cozy for just studying,¡± Danny observed coolly, causing Taylor to flush even harder.


    ¡°That¡¯s my bad,¡± I said quickly. ¡°I asked if we could talk about some things first.¡±


    Danny turned to look at me. ¡°Some¡­ things? What kind of things?¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°Like us having a more than a friendly relationship.¡±


    ¡°I see. I thought you were pretty sure you two were just friends?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Well, when you asked back in October if I found her attractive, I started thinking about it a lot and well, things developed,¡± I admitted.


    Danny blinked. ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re saying I put this thought in your head?¡± he asked incredulously.


    I shrugged. ¡°Not so sure it wasn¡¯t inevitable. Taylor¡¯s the best person I know; I realized I want her in my life, and I want to be there for her as well. So, we¡¯d like to see where this takes us,¡± I said in a rush. I wasn¡¯t really prepared to wax rhapsodic about our hours-old relationship, but I didn¡¯t want Danny getting the wrong idea here.


    Danny¡¯s face was unreadable, but the way Taylor reached out and squeezed my hand in a death-grip was encouraging.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I¡¯m going to need some coffee for this conversation. Rhiyen, would you care to join me in the kitchen? Taylor, can you give us some privacy?¡±


    I got up and nodded, frowning. ¡°I¡¯ll join you, but I feel it¡¯s only fair to say that I don¡¯t keep secrets from Taylor.¡±


    Danny nodded at that. ¡°I¡¯m going to be frank, Taylor can join us, but you may regret that later.¡±


    ¡°I probably will,¡± I admitted, ¡°but I don¡¯t want to start things off with her on the wrong foot.¡±


    As the coffee brewed, I looked out the window. It wasn¡¯t fully dark, so it was a little early for dinner. I didn¡¯t think Danny normally came home this early, but my own presence here today probably explained that. He totally wanted to catch us misbehaving and he did. Kind of.


    I glanced over at Taylor. She was sitting still, but I could see signs of nervousness in the set of her jaw.


    Danny asked, ¡°Do you want some coffee?¡±


    ¡°No thanks,¡± I said as Taylor shook her head. I got up and fetched a couple of glasses of ice water for us. We¡¯d likely be talking a lot, and it would be nice to have something to do with our hands. Besides holding hands, which was nice, but distracting as hell.


    The kitchen slowly filled with the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. I like the smell well enough, the taste not so much. I hadn¡¯t built up much of a tolerance to caffeine, so large amounts could make me wired or irritable. Something I absolutely did not need right now.


    Finally, Danny poured off a cup for himself and sat down.


    ¡°First of all,¡± he began, ¡°I want to make it clear that none of what I am about to say is meant to be taken personally.¡±


    I swallowed as a pit formed in my stomach. That was not a promising start at all.


    He glanced at Taylor. ¡°There was a reason I want to have this talk privately, Rhiyen, but I respect you not wanting to keep secrets from Taylor. In most situations, that¡¯s a good rule to follow.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve helped Taylor immensely with her situation at Winslow,¡± he continued. ¡°And I will always appreciate that. But I also must consider the bigger picture. In two years, Taylor will be done with high school and hopefully looking at college and building a career. I don¡¯t want to look back and realize that a short-term solution has become a long-term problem.¡±


    Clearly, Danny was not mincing words today.


    ¡°I think,¡± Danny continued, ¡°that you are a good person with many fine qualities, but I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re the best person for Taylor¡¯s future. As you said yourself, you don¡¯t have a safety net. Do you even plan to go to college?¡±


    Before I could even say anything, Taylor spoke up, ¡°Rhiyen¡¯s grades are overall as good as mine,¡± she said.


    ¡°Almost as good,¡± I said with a smile.


    ¡°Taylor,¡± Danny said. ¡°Your mother and I set a lot of money aside for your college fund. Rhiyen¡¯s going to have to get scholarships if he wants to go. You don¡¯t play any sports, do you?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°And it¡¯s not super likely I¡¯ll manage an academic one,¡± I admitted.


    Danny nodded. ¡°So, what do you plan to do after you graduate?¡± he asked.


    I admittedly hadn¡¯t given it a lot of thought so far. Two and a half years is a long time off. But he was a concerned father. I remembered an idle thought I¡¯d had after Chief Briggs¡¯ house was burned down by Sen Arashi. ¡°I was thinking about joining the fire department,¡± I said. I could handle the toughest parts of the job; the only concern was not outing myself by accident.


    Taylor looked at me in surprise, but after a moment nodded eagerly. ¡°I think you¡¯d be amazing at that,¡± she said.


    Danny looked equally surprised. ¡°It¡¯s honest work. I know quite a few people in the department. But it¡¯s dangerous work, especially in Brockton Bay. Between the drug lab fires and tangling with the gangs, they leave a lot of widows behind.¡±


    Taylor huffed. ¡°Every job in Brockton Bay is dangerous,¡± she said.


    Danny turned to his daughter. ¡°Taylor, do you plan to have children someday?¡± he asked.


    Taylor shrugged. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know Dad. That¡¯s something we¡¯re going to have to figure out. A long time from now.¡± She looked over my way and I smiled at her. I halfway expected her to melt in embarrassment at the question, I liked what I was seeing here.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Danny said, looking thoughtful for a moment. ¡°Your work in the library is fine for a little extra money, but I know from dating Annette that they will only permanently hire on people with degrees in library science. Come out and pull a shift at the Union. If you can handle the work, we can hire you full-time over the summers. You can learn some real skills, bank real wages, and the work experience will look good on a resume wherever you go.¡±


    I frowned thoughtfully. ¡°I don¡¯t want a job just because I know you,¡± I said.


    Danny smiled and shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. The Dockworker¡¯s Union is a multigenerational organization. If we didn¡¯t hire the family of existing members, we¡¯d be missing half our people.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, Taylor was nodding.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I agreed. ¡°I¡¯m filling in a shift at the library on Wednesday, but I can come out tomorrow or Thursday.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow will be fine,¡± Danny said. He took another drink of his coffee, then continued, ¡°Again, I hope you don¡¯t take any of this personally.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just looking out for Taylor,¡± I agreed, though describing me as a long-term liability still stung.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you understand,¡± Danny replied. ¡°So, you can just meet me in the morning, and I¡¯ll give you a ride to the office and start your paperwork. You¡¯ll probably want to get a good night¡¯s sleep though.¡±


    I may not be the most perceptive person in the world, but I can recognize a clear dismissal when I hear one. ¡°Then I guess I¡¯d better get going and let you eat dinner,¡± I said.


    Danny¡¯s nod confirmed that I¡¯d read the room correctly.


    As I was putting books in my backpack, I was acutely aware of Taylor coming up behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, placing a hand on my back. ¡°My dad was ¨C ¡°


    ¡°Just being your dad,¡± I said as I turned to face her. I felt like if I said that one more time, I would have to break something. But I was determined not to put Taylor in the middle here. Maybe I should have agreed to keep the conversation private, but the idea still rankled. Then, I realized that I would have just been upset about his words and unable to tell Taylor why. Yeah, screw that noise.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know you,¡± Taylor insisted. ¡°Not really, or he would never have said that. I¡¯ll keep your confidences, but I don¡¯t have to accept him putting you down, either.¡±


    I swallowed. I¡¯m ashamed to admit I had an instant of panic when I thought she was about to tell Danny everything to convince him, but I should have known better. Her words, the insistence that she would have my back just as much as I¡¯d had hers, left me with a warm glow inside. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said in barely more than a whisper, ¡°that means a lot to me.¡±


    ¡°You mean a lot to me,¡± she whispered back.


    I smiled as I shouldered my backpack. I really wish her father wasn¡¯t in the kitchen studiously ignoring us. Supposedly.


    I opened my mouth to say goodbye, but Taylor shook her head and nodded toward the front door. She opened the front door for me and followed me out onto the chilly porch. She immediately began shivering, so I wrapped her in a hug, trying to think warm thoughts.


    ¡°I want you to come here after work and tell me how it went. Promise me?¡± she asked anxiously.


    ¡°I promise,¡± I said, and she pulled me into a kiss. We weren¡¯t much more practiced, but it was just as amazing. She shivered a little and I tightened the embrace as much as I dared. Finally, we separated, and she went back inside.


    I took off jogging. I had a bus to catch if I wanted to make it back to the Landry¡¯s in time for dinner.