Author: Wildbow

Wild Abandon – 18.6 | Pale

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Verona, wary, leaned over as far as she could get to be near Lucy, and murmured, “You know… in the movies and TV shows, when someone’s all, ‘I’ll hold the line, I’ll say and fight, it’s my responsibility, you do what you have to’… it’s not like this.”

“Mmm,” Lucy grunted, elbow on her desk, heel of her hand at her chin, fingers curled around her mouth.  Her pen took the periodic note.

Mrs. Morehouse lectured, “Aung San Suu Kyi and then the exclusionary globalization after Nargis devastated the Irrawaddy Delta…”

“What the everfucking what?” Verona whispered to Lucy.  “What language is that?”

“Shhh,” Lucy whispered.  “We’ll compare notes after.”

“After each of those four readings you’ll need to compare and contrast.  First contact with the First Nations here in Canada, technology and opportunity in so-called ‘third world’ countries, the legacies of imperialism in India, and Aung San Suu Kyi in Myanmar.”

“What the fuuuuck?” Verona mouthed the words, mostly to herself now, eyes wide.  She leaned over to Lucy, whispering, “this sounds more like the gobbledegook I expected from the BHI classes.”

“Shhh.”

“Aim for about four paragraphs, one for each article, one and a half pages, roughly.  You’ll draw out the highlights, distinctions, and draw a line of commonalities and chronologies between the four articles.  It doesn’t need to be a polished essay like we did the other week, but it shouldn’t be point form either.  What you do need to do is show a full and complete understanding of the subjects- each of the articles, how they tie together, and how they don’t.  We’re going to have the exact same structure as a quarter of your mark in the end of semester exam, but with four shorter readings, so nail it down now.”

Verona wanted to drag her fingernails down her cheeks.

Right now, there was cool, important, interesting stuff happening.

“I’m laying it all out for you guys, lots of advance warning,” the teacher explained.  “I’m telling you what the homework will be now, and as we go through class you can listen out for keywords you’ll need for the assignment, and the homework assignment is early prep for what the exam will ask of you, so pay attention.”

Jeremy had his phone in his lap, and it glowed briefly as he turned it on and typed something.

Caroline pulled her own phone out of her pocket, then looked over her shoulder at Jeremy to flash him a smile.

It sucked.  Feeling unwanted.  As a friend.  As a girl.

Like, she knew it didn’t make total sense and Jeremy had his reasons and he wanted to buy into this big bullshit idea about romance and relationships and everything but also like… she liked her body and it felt like that was a whole other unhealthy, bullshit script she’d managed to dodge that everyone else treated as universal, she knew she wasn’t a ten out of ten or anything but whatever?  She could look herself in the mirror and fire off finger guns and she liked her clothes and she liked her hair.  Cool.

This one jerkass who she’d shared nearly everything with had turned around and said ‘not good enough’ and now it didn’t feel very fucking cool at all.

Then there’d been Easton, and she didn’t or shouldn’t care about anything Easton had to say, and he’d made a shitty comment in response to her joke about no nude figure drawings, and somehow that kept niggling at her.  Fine in the one moment, but given a bit more time, somehow that cut deep?  What the fuck?

Which just made her feel like absolute shit, sitting at the back of class.  Sitting through every minute felt like she had a toothpick wedged between toe and toenail and she was repeatedly kicking the back of the seat in front of her.  Kick kick kick kick.

She wanted to say something to Lucy.  Maybe there was some sympathy or understanding there, after Lucy had gotten punked by the stupid app last spring, by the stupid, stupid boys who’d rated them all and put Lucy at the bottom.

She wasn’t sure how to bring that up, and Lucy was focusing on class.  Mostly.

And before Verona could craft her comment or whatever, Wallace got a message from Jeremy.    He reached back, hand against the front edge of Lucy’s desk, watching Mrs. Morehouse.

When the teacher turned around to write on the whiteboard – Social globalization.  Sociological globalization.  What’s the difference?  Wallace lifted his ass out of his seat and craned his body over Lucy’s desk, while she pulled her butt out of her seat and learned forward, so Wallace could whisper something in her ear.

Lucy flashed a smile and then whispered something back.  The two of them sat down quickly before Mrs. Morehouse could turn around, looking a bit goofy.

Kick kick kick kick.

Getting that metaphorical toothpick under her toenail in a millimeter deeper with every metaphorical kick.

Verona practically squirmed in her seat, she wanted to be gone so bad.  Doing something or anything else.

“What’s the difference between financial and economic globalization?” Mrs. Morehouse asked.  “Anyone?”

A few hands went up.

Kick kick kick.  Metaphorical toothpicks under a metaphorical toenail, as she metaphorically kicked the chair in front of her over and over again.

She’d finished two huge-ass rituals in the last few days.  She’d created a Demesne, a magic house.  Was she in her magic house right now?  Fucking no she wasn’t.  She’d founded a new Kennet with a huge-ass ritual that had caught major practitioners from the region and surrounding areas with their pants down.  She’d met some of the Others and it sounded like a great place.  Cool.  Was she there?  Fuck no she fucking wasn’t.  She was at fucking school, which was the opposite of a magic house and the opposite of Kennet found.

Kick kick kick kick kick.

School had been a chore before but when had it become something she viscerally hated, minute by minute?

Maybe it was the lack of outlets.  There were things she liked to do that let her chill out and there hadn’t been a lot of chill.  She’d barely slept when the invaders had come in over the weekend, she’d barely slept while getting the Founding off, and she’d cheated timewise with Demesne ritual.  The result was that she’d kind of slept four or five hours, stayed up all night, slept a bit in the day, then caught sixish hours, four or five hours, then twenty four hours awake that didn’t really count as being awake because she was outside of normal needs for sleep and outside the usual bounds of time.

Which was fine, she felt tired but not like she was dying or going to fall asleep in class.  But she hadn’t watched a TV show in the last while, she’d mostly goofed around with McCauleigh but even that was a bit of a balancing act, playing nice with a person who might be an enemy if the winds changed.

It was showers still being cold and food being whatever she managed to grab and chow down on here and there, it was a life without music or television, and a life without a boy to kiss.  It made all the negative things worse, and so school went from something she disliked into something almost unbearable.

Kick kick kick kick.

Even if she could, what would she do?  There was no boy after Jeremy, she wasn’t even sure what show she would watch if she could.  The last one she’d watched had been…

Holy shit had it only been last Thursday?  It felt like weeks and weeks ago.

The show had veered hard into a romance subplot and she hadn’t had the patience for it.  Not for the one thousandth time she’d seen that stuff play out when she didn’t really care.

Maybe it was the idea she was stuck like this like she was stuck at home and there were good and cool things in life.  It wasn’t just that there was no outlet, there was no out.  She was supposed to go from this to home and her dad and back to this and so on for the next three years and the magic stuff she cared about would forever be in the background.  It was the kind of stuff she could spend twenty-four hours a day on and still not get into everything she wanted to get into and yet… it felt more like if she allotted more than an hour a day for it, she fell behind.

There wasn’t enough time for it all.

Kick kick kick kick.

It was five past ten.  They’d finished gym class twenty minutes ago, which hadn’t been fun at all when she did not want to be running around.  Social studies ran from nine forty-five until eleven thirty, when they got out for lunch.  She would get half an hour to get where she needed to be, eat, run around and make sense of what was going on in Kennet, touch base with others, and then get back.

Back by twelve.

Then Math until one forty-five, then her Art elective until three thirty.

She’d have to stop by the house to get stuff, after.  Her dad didn’t tend to work that long at the end of the week, so there was a good chance he’d be there.  Then more than an hour of practice stuff that would mean she’d fall behind.  Then she’d stare at the homework being assigned now, by Mrs. Morehouse, who wasn’t talking to Mr. Sitton or the art teacher about how much was being assigned, so they’d each give a night’s worth of homework.

Kick kick kick kick kick.

She’d squeeze in the homework and not do well enough and watch a show in the background and not enjoy that and then she’d endure her dad bitching and moaning and finding some way to waste her already insufficient time and then she’d sleep and do it all over again.

I am a nascent fucking sorceress of halflight and shadow who created a magic town and earned a magic house.  Why am I doing this?

The clock crawled forward.  Second by second.  Tick tock tick tock.

There was now a metaphorical toothpick under every metaphorical toenail, of varying lengths and angles.  Each metaphorical kick against something hard moved an unpredictable number an unpredictable amount, some driven into metaphorical flesh, some scraping bone and twisting, some driven into and through toenails, splitting them.  Her leg wouldn’t sit still, jittering, and she tried to distract herself, mixing taking notes on what sounded important enough to figure out later with doodles in the margins to save her sanity and graphic visualizations of toothpicks and toenails to try to take what she was feeling and frame it.

Kennet was under attack.  Everything she was doing was under attack.  She was here for Jasmine, enduring this for Jasmine, and for Avery and for Lucy.  Because if she skipped school again she’d pretty much have skipped every class this week.  If she skipped every class this week and there was trouble because of it, then the parents would freak out.

Jeremy glanced at Caroline.

Kick kick kick kick.

“Financial integration refers to a country’s linkages to international capital markets.  Fair, understandable?”

Various heads around the class nodded.

Verona’s leg jittered.

“Good,” Mrs. Morehouse declared.

The world was changing, Liberty was trying to help them out while they’d been total assholes by fucking off to go to school, on parents’ orders.  Charles was putting plans into action, people were fighting for Lordships, and Musser’s return to Kennet was something Verona needed to prepare for.

Eight minutes past ten.

Tick tock tick tock.

Kick kick kick kick.

Tick tock tick tock.

Kick kick kick kick.

“Are you attacking me?”

Verona approached, arms extended.  “Sorta.”

McCauleigh dropped into a fighting stance.  She had a natural ‘jeans commercial’ look, jeans, simple white tank top, fit, hair not too tidy, just mussed up enough to look natural.

“Hug?” Verona asked.

“Why a hug?” McCauleigh asked, wary.

“Because I need a fucking hug, why else?”

“Ask your friend Lucy.  Isn’t she your best friend?”

“My best friend Lucy is catching up with her boyfriend, maybe they’re hugging, I dunno.  My other best friend is probably getting ready to go to school in Thunder Bay, three freaking hours away, getting a hug out of her girlfriend.  My other best friend may have demoted herself to just ‘friend’ and is busy trying to help keep the peace elsewhere.”

“You’re aware you sound like a fifth grader, all ‘my fifteen hundred best friends’ or whatever, right?”

“Fuck off.  They’re important to me and ‘friend’ isn’t a good enough word.  Now, you, me, we did the whole sleepover bonding bullshit, talking about shitty parents and rude boy stuff, right?”

“Sure?” McCauleigh asked, unsure.  “Was fun.”

“I told you all that shit about it being hard to open up and share emotions and all that crap.  Now I need a damn hug and if you’re a friend it would sure be appreciated if you’d give me one and if you won’t make too fucking big a deal of it, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Could you sound more reluctant?”

“Probably.”

But McCauleigh approached and gave Verona a stiff hug.  McCauleigh wasn’t wearing a jacket and her arms were bare, skin cold at the back of Verona’s neck.

“You’re really bad at this,” Verona said.

“Fuck off.  I can’t really remember the last time I hugged someone.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I hugged people I was fighting, for judo or whatever I was training in, but that doesn’t count, does it?”

“Not really.  Well, glad if I broke your hug-ginity.”

McCauleigh ended the hug.  “You just made it weird.  And it wasn’t my hug-ginity.  I’ve been hugged.  But I was probably closer to three or something.”

“Uh huh.  Well, thanks.”

“You good now?  I’d offer- offer something, but I have no idea how to-” McCauleigh fumbled.  “Cookies?”

“Cookies?”

“I don’t fucking know what people do to make other people feel better.  I figured baking’s nice sometimes, I guess?”

“You were going to make me fresh cookies?”

“I don’t fucking know.  Can we change the subject away from the damn cookies?  You good?  Want another hug?  If you want a better one you’re going to have to tell me what to fix.”

“I’m good, but if you’ll allow me to briefly return to the subject of cookies…”

“Fuck you, do you want to be enemies again?  We can throw this friendship away over your fixation on fucking cookies.”

“It’s super nice and cool that you thought of something like that, okay?  It’s cool,” Verona told McCauleigh.  “Don’t get defensive-”

“Want me to stab you?”

“Or offensive.  It’s cool.  Okay?  I super appreciate you thinking along those lines.”

“Why did you need the hug?”

“Just going to say, if you’re ever undercover, whatever, trying to blend in, asking ‘do you want to talk about it’ like you just did is much better and more natural than cookies.”

“Okay.  I like the example you gave.  If I gotta fake it, right?”

“Sure, yeah.  And uh… school sucks.  Home sucks.  Going between home and school when I’ve got better shit to do really sucks.  I wanted to crawl out of my skin for a bit there and I want to make it clear, I’m sure I could literally pull off a practice that lets me crawl out of my literal skin.  So I’m having to sit there and not do that.”

“Damn straight.  I get that.”

“It just all kinda really sucks,” Verona said, gesticulating wildly with one hand, “And I gotta go back in like twenty minutes and that sucks.”

“Super sucks.”

“And why,” Verona gesticulated even more dramatically, before indicating McCauleigh, “are you here, at my Demesne, while I wallow in the suck?”

“Giving you intel and lounging.”

“Awesome.  Can you intel me while I get food and then you can lounge more?”

“Can you get me food too?”

“Sure.  About as easy to make it for two as it is for one.  Get a blanket over you or something in the meantime?  You felt cold when you hugged me.”

“Sounds good.”

“Cool.”

They went inside.  Peckersnot was standing on the front steps of the House on Half Street, arms upstretched.

“Offering me a hug, little man?” Verona asked.  “Not super satisfying with the size difference, but I appreciate the idea of it.”

She lifted him to one shoulder and he hugged the side of her neck, before slumping down to lie sideways across her shoulder, holding on.

Inside, she dropped off her bag and went to her kitchen, pulling out some bread and butter to slather the bread with butter while her hotplate warmed up.

“That is awfully close to the alchemy setup you’ve got there,” McCauleigh said, as she walked away.

“Because the hot plate is part of my alchemy setup, you ding dong.  I don’t have a working stove or kitchen yet.”

“You cook and do alchemy in the same space?” McCauleigh asked, as she returned, blanket in her arms.

“Sure.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Is it concerning enough for you to not want me to cook you a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“No.  I’m just observing.”

“Uh huh.”

“Can I have two grilled cheese sandwiches?” McCauleigh asked.

“I was going to make one and now we’ve reached a point where I’m debating making three?”

“I burn a lot of calories when I blood rage.”

“I… one end piece of bread.  I could cut it in half, use half for the top, one for the bottom?”

“That’s just depressing, isn’t it?” McCauleigh asked.  She’d pulled the blanket over her and the top part made a hood over her head.  “Endpiece.  You might as well slap me in the face, Hayward.”

“Or, second option, since I don’t eat much, because I’m petite and lazy, you take half my sandwich, for one and a half sandwiches total, plus some pepperoni sticks, pickles, salty chips, and other stuff to round things out?”

“Deal.”

“Deal, she says,” Verona said out loud, as she threw the toast on.  “Deal, like we’re negotiating or something.  What am I getting here, besides the hug?”

“Intel.”

“Intel.  Right.  Run it by me?”

“America wants to sway the goblins.  Restore morale, they’re- there’s a whole thing going on, they’re really torn about the Tedd sisters not being together.”

“Uh huh?”

“So she’s going to pull something big.  Big goblin, specifically.  Later.”

“Cool.  That really helps.”

“There’ll be coordination.  An initial attack to draw some of your guys away from where the big goblin will be making a move.  Hadley was looking for me, she wanted to make me part of that force.  I’ll just skip that though.  Say I was keeping an eye on your Demesne.”

“That won’t get you in trouble or hurt things?”

“Fuck it.  I’m in trouble anyway.”

“Okay,” Verona said.  She flipped the bread and laid the cheddar cheese on top.  While the butter sizzled, she got out the pepperoni sticks and pickles.

“Mmm, protein.”

“What are you going to do?  Long term?” Verona asked.

“No idea.  See the way this all goes.  Who wins, if Musser gets out ahead.”

“It sounded like you knew for sure you didn’t want to be some Hennigar chump, doing the blood rage death scream thing and getting your ass kicked a lot.”

“Hey,” McCauleigh replied, taking the pepperoni stick she was holding and poking it in Verona’s direction.  Peckersnot nearly fell off Verona’s shoulder as he craned his head out, biting for the pepperoni.  “We’re not chumps.”

“You guys can be a little… chumpy, kinda, you know?”  Verona tore off a bit of pepperoni and gave it to Peckersnot.

“Don’t underestimate my family, Hayward.  You do realize how we operate, don’t you?”

“Didn’t I just say?  Blood rage death scream, calling out to War herself?”

“Because why?”

“Because… it keeps you from dying when you’d get shot?”

“Uh huh.  To stay in the fight.  To stay up when others would fall.  What do you think the casualty rate is like for the Songetays?  Or the Cavendars?”

“It’s… moderate to high?”

“Moderate to high.  What do you think the casualty rate is like for my brothers and sisters?”

“From your line of questioning, I’d guess it’s… low?”

“Low to none.  The Driscolls lost two family members to rivals a couple years back, kid and his mom, which means they’ve lost more people in the last three years than we’ve had in the last ten, and the Driscolls are city mages and historians, a family about books, not blades.”

“Huh.”

“The Garricks, who you had picking up people?  They’ve had more.  We survive, we fight, we have more kids, we have kids that make it to adulthood, our adults live longer, nice little side benefit of giving Death the big middle finger.  Which means we get to have a nice big family with numbers that get closer to the big non-combat practitioner families.  And we hold the privileged status of They Who Should Not Be Fucked With.”

“I could almost hear the capital letters on those words but that might be imagination.”

“Uh huh.  Anyway, why do you think we had five students at the Blue Heron?”

“Five?  Weren’t there four?”

“Five in the spring.”

“I wasn’t there in the spring.”

“There were five in the spring.  Shut up.”

“Okay well, sure, I’ll maybe concede that, but just to point out, we’ve fucked with the Hennigars some.”

“Politically.”

“We’ve fucked with the Hennigars some politically.  A bit?  I could make the argument.”

“Fuck off.”

“Uh huh.  Sandwich.  There’s some ketchup packets here if you want ketchup with your grilled cheese.  This brand’s too sweet for me, though.”

“Thank you,” McCauleigh said, going to some effort to take the little plate with the sandwich while keeping shrouded in the blanket.  She helped herself to pickles and pepperoni.

“You gotta admit, your brothers and maybe your sister are a bit chump-y.  Being able to keep fighting after you’re shot is cool and all, but if you’re getting shot a lot and stuff, even if you have a way of sort of dealing with it, you’re still getting shot a lot, right?”

“Can we just agree my brothers might be chumps and compromise there?  Before we fight?”

“Sure!” Verona said, brightly.  “Um, intel.  Was there more?”

“That’s it for now.”

“Peckersnot, hey, I’ll bribe you with food if you’ll run this message?  Get it to Liberty, she might know what the big goblin America is calling on might be.  And then tell Louise, Miss, or Toadswallow?”

Peckersnot peeped.

Verona penned it down then handed him the paper, lowering him to the ground before taking a morsel of pepperoni and giving it to him.  It was too big for his beaked mouth, so he just held it there with one hand as he disappeared into a hole in the wall.

“What are you going to do?” Verona asked.  “Like, if we win, if we work with Liberty tonight and drive off America, or get her to concede, or something, you going to go back home?”

“I don’t know,” McCauleigh said.

“Because I did have a thought.  It’s not a permanent solution, if you need a break or need an escape, you could get yourself trapped in Kennet found.  For repeat offenders, there’s a civility course.  Means you’d stay for three days.  Or seven.  Or, maybe I talk to Miss and we make it fourteen, no course, just a time out, and you sell it to your family as it being about you doing something really heinous.”

“Heinous.”

“It’s a good word.”

“Enh.”

“It’s just an option, anyway.  A two week break from everything?  It’d be nice to have you around, I want to stay friends but I’m pretty bad at staying in touch with people online like Avery is.  I could make you up a room for a longer stay.  You could stay in this house when you want and still technically be in Kennet found.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I figure any more than two weeks, they might send a rescue party.”

“You saw my nightmare.  They don’t care all that much.”

“Yeah.  My dad either.”

“Yeah.”

They ate for a short bit.

“I really want to be out there, but the parents were all, ‘you need to stay safe, go to school, keep to a routine’, you know?”

“Sure.  At least someone cares, right?”

Verona shrugged.  “School sucks, this situation sucks, home sucks…”

“Fuck yes.  Family sucks.  Expectations suck.  People suck.”

“Boys who bone you and then ditch you suck.”

“I will take your word for it.  Boys can suck it.”

Verona thought about bringing up Easton’s comment at the table, that had happened just a few feet away, but kept mum.  It’d be shitty to broadcast that, even if Easton thoroughly deserved getting shit on.

“What’s this suckfest?”

Mallory from Kennet below.  She was wearing a frankenjacket with stitches and patches, and a roughly attached fuzzy collar that helped hide most of the neck tats.

She was followed by Melissa and Bracken.

“Problem?  Tell me there’s a valid excuse to me missing school this afternoon,” Verona told them.

“Sorry, no.  Just doing a walk around, trying to exercise my stupid foot,” Melissa said.  “You’re on the route we’re walking.”

“Damn.  Nothing?”

“Quiet.  People are sleeping, we think.  I second Mal’s question.  What sucks?”

“A lot of stuff sucks,” Verona answered.  “We are commiserating.”

“That’s the kind of word that makes me want to hit you,” Mallory replied.  “What’s it mean?”

“Not sure!” Verona admitted.  “But I’ve read it in books.”

“Still making me want to hit you.”

“Means, like, group whining?” Melissa asked, she was hanging back some, hands in her pockets.  Her face was a bit red from the colder weather and the walk over.

“Fuck no it’s not group whining,” McCauleigh retorted.

“It’s angry at the world whining,” Verona said.  “Angry at how much things suck sometimes.”

“I’m with you there,” Melissa said.

“You have food?” Mallory asked, nose upturned, sniffing.

“You can make your own grilled cheese out of a single end piece if you want.  There’s pepperoni and pickles.”

“Sweet.”

“Mal- Mel.  we have too many fucking names that start with M in this room,” Verona said.  “Melissa, you’re Oakham as long as you’re around these guys.”

“Why the fuck am I the one who gets demoted?”

“Because I don’t remember Mallory’s last name and McCauleigh is taking a break from family shit, and you were on sports teams so you went by Oakham a lot, on the back of your jersey.”

“What sports?” McCauleigh asked.

Oakham answered, “Gymnastics, dance, soccer, hockey, mostly.  Occasionally other stuff.  Then Nicolette fucking Belanger’s stupid ghost thing snapped off my foot while I was in the middle of a flying routine.”

“Fuck,” McCauleigh replied.

“You want to have a suckfest party?  That sucked ass.  It went to town, sucking on that ass.”

“Do you want food, Oakham?” Verona asked.  “Mallory looks like she’s burning the last of the bread-”

“Twice the temperature, half the cooking time,” Mallory said.

“-but there’s pickles and dry pepperoni sticks.”

“I ate.  I’m trying to be good.”

“Bracken?”

“Nah.  Going to check on Bag.  Can I use your bathroom and then get some water?”

“Sure.  Thanks for asking.”

As he went upstairs, McCauleigh craned her head around to keep her eyes on him.  She looked at Oakham.  “Brother?”

“If he was my twin brother I’d be unable to sleep at night, knowing he was in the same house.  Incest sis Meliss, losing her mind as she pines away for the unobtainable.”

“What the fuck is with people in my Demesne making these weird-ass admissions about stuff?” Verona asked.

“It’s the kind of attraction that transcends brother sister relationships.”

“You’re the only one talking about that stuff right now!” Verona exclaimed.

Mal was laughing in the background.

“Did I make some weird statement?” McCauleigh asked.

“Nope, you’re good.  Please don’t take that as an excuse to, though.”

“Okay.  I don’t have any.”

“I figured, but it’s happened three times now, and I’m wondering if I misconfigured something in my Demesne here.”

“I saw you looking,” Oakham told McCauleigh, taking on a surly tone.  “I like him.  I’m trying to get fit and physio the shit out of my ankle so I’m more someone he could like.  You want him, you want to take a shot?  Go through me, because I’m working my ass off here.”

“You’d lose.  Even if I had my hands tied behind my back, and no practice.”

“I’d lose and I’d be so fucking shamefully awful and pitiable during and after the fight it’d ruin the moment.”

Mal, who was burning the shit out of her grilled cheese, laughed again.

“Huh,” McCauleigh replied.  She looked at Verona.  “It’s so weird when they can lie.”

“They?” Oakham asked.

“Just put her at ease, okay?  Don’t- don’t screw things up.”

“I won’t.  But you said twin brother?”

“Same age, month apart, even,” Oakham said, biting her lip.

“Damn.  Thought he was seventeen.”

Oakham shook her head.

“You’ve met, right?” Verona asked, pointing between Oakham and McCauleigh.

“Briefly.”

“It’s been the longest fucking week.  McCauleigh is a dancer.”

“No shit.  Cool.  What kind?  Can you show me?” Oakham asked.

“Sword dance, gun dances, some- I’d say it’s like rhythmic gymnastics, but with empowered strength, murder, and screaming.”

“Huh.  Cool.  Maybe don’t show me, though?”

“Sure.”

Bracken was coming back downstairs.  Both Oakham and McCauleigh turned their heads.  Verona rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

Bracken held up his water bottle.  “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing special.”

“I’m going to check Bag isn’t being bullied on the playground.  I’ll see you later?  I’ll be doing shopping later for the refugees from the Family Man’s territory.”

“They’re still around?”

“Some.”

“I’d offer to come with but I’d slow you down,” Oakham said.

“It’s fine,” Bracken said.  “Come.”

He went to the door, and Oakham followed, turning to mouth the words, It’s fine, come.

“See ya.”

Oakham nodded.  “See you.  Good luck with the whole invasion magic bullshit stuff.  Let me know if I can help.”

“You help by not being in the worst of it and being alive, so you can be good blackguard,” Verona told Oakham.

“Right, whatever.”

Leaving the three of Mal, Verona, and McCauleigh behind.  McCauleigh retrieved the blanket she’d shucked off when Bracken had turned off, wrapping herself in it.

“If you burn food that badly I’m pretty sure it becomes cancerous,” Verona observed.

“Don’t plan on living to old age anyway.”

“I noticed you weren’t that interested in the guy.  Bracken, was it?”

“Yeah, and no I wasn’t.  Not my type.”

“Huh.”

“The last guy I liked, Melissa Oakham just now, she liked him before, too.  Got pretty pissy over it.”

“Picture?”

Verona searched through her phone, then held out one.

“Huh,” McCauleigh said, in the tone of someone who wasn’t impressed.

“Sucks.  Decided to date a horse girl instead of me.”

“A horse girl?  Centaur?”

“No.  Someone who likes horses and that’s their thing.  Dresses a certain, I dunno, horse-riding way?  Preppy tight pants?”

“Like Raquel Musser?”

“Sure.”

“Got it.”

“The guy I like isn’t a centaur either,” Mal said, around a mouthful of food.

“Awful segue,” Verona said.

“He’s goes by Shirtless, and he’s shirtless, because he looks so good without a shirt.  That’s his thing.”

“You told me about him before,” McCauleigh replied.

“And I’ll tell you again.  I got a picture of him this time, though, so you have context.”

The conversation went on for another minute before Verona’s phone went off.

Please be an excuse to skip class this afternoon.

It was just the alarm.

Lunch over.

“I gotta go.  You guys- don’t burn down the building.”

“See you,” Mcauleigh replied.  “I’ll try not to.  Not sure it’s even possible, with a Demesne.”

“Mal might manage to if there’s a way.  Watch her for me.  Want me to turn up the heat so you can ditch the blanket?”

“I want the heat exactly where it is so I can use the blanket,” McCauleigh said.

“Cool.”

Verona got her stuff, rinsed her plate quickly to put it on the rack, and then headed to the door.

The conversation was ongoing, heated, fun, real.

It wasn’t as lonely.

“…a quadratic equation we can write as y equals ax to the second power plus bx plus c, and we can do it this way, by writing y equals x to the second power minus two x minus eight using intercepts and symmetry, write that down, take a second.  There we go, still seeing pens and pencils moving, one or two left.  Okay, there we go.  Here we go, second approach would be sketching y equals three x to the second power minus twelve x plus one, completing the square and applying transformations, there.  Write that down, take a second, hold any questions, let’s just cover one more…”

Mr. Sitton droned, filling every available second with more words.

Tick tock tick tock.

Kick kick kick kick.

“…graph h equals negative four point nine t to the second power plus fifty t plus one point five, and you can use your calculators for that one, there we go.  Write that down.  I see pencils still moving.  Good.  You’re going to have to get faster if you’re going to University.  They won’t be gracious enough to give you the time I’m giving you.  Now hopefully everyone is up to speed, because we’re going to get together into groups.  For this worksheet, work together, come to a single solution-”

Kick kick kick kick.

Chairs scraped and desks banged.

“-in groups of four!  Single solution.  Talk, vet one another’s work, maybe each do the work on your own if you’re fast and then compare your results with your groupmates!”

Jeremy paired up with Caroline.  Wallace automatically wanted to be with Jeremy.  Lucy wanted to be with Wallace and for one second things were fine for Lucy and then Lucy remembered, looking over her shoulder.

Lucy abandoned that group.

“You don’t have to group with me.”

“I missed classes too.  We’re both behind.  I’d be embarrassing myself in front of Wallace.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Come on.  Let’s find some people who know their shit.”

A good friend for not leaving her hanging, but it felt bad.  Verona’s hand twinged and for a second she almost hoped it would act up.  She rubbed at her palm and followed Lucy as Lucy went to Ian and Noah’s desks.  The pair were so caught up in talking that they weren’t really paying attention.

“We missed a bunch of classes early this week, is that okay?” Lucy asked.  “Can we follow your lead, try to catch up?  I know you’re good with math.”

“For sure,” Noah said.

Verona almost wanted to not have asked them, but it was too late, and the rationale was dumb.  What good would it have done?  Ian and Noah were dating, kind of, in a very ‘we’re the only gay guys in our grade, so why not?’ kind of way.  Or maybe that was her being cynical.  And Verona didn’t really want to be sitting in a group with a couple.

Kick kick kick kick kick.

“First problem is on the board,” Mr. Sitton told the class.  “Next one to come.  Solve x to the second power plus ten x plus sixteen equals zero by factoring.  Then verify it algebraically.”

Verona rubbed hard at her palm, because her hand wanted to cramp up.  She watched over Lucy’s shoulder as Lucy wrote stuff down, instead of doing any writing herself.

She didn’t get much of any of this.

She was very aware of her own breathing, because she was breathing harder, feeling all of this.

She wondered about claiming her hand hurt, because it did, and then going to the bathroom to take a thirty minute break.

But what good would that do?  It would only get her as much negative attention as staying.  Lucy would worry more.

She stayed put, controlling her breathing, restless, wanting to be anywhere else.

Twelve fifteen.  An hour and thirty minutes left of math.  Then Art.  She liked art, but it would be ruined by being at the end of school, preceded by all of this, when she wanted nothing more than to be gone from this building.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Kick kick kick kick.

Liberty smiled a shark smile, each tooth filed to be triangular.  They were moving as a group, trying to be somewhat stealthy, and that was really hard with the goblins being super excited Liberty was around.  Even nine hours after she’d turned up.

It was at the point where Verona worried even an innocent might clue in, because bushes moved and jostling goblins kept knocking over trash and store displays.

“Is this constant?” Lucy asked, as a bush wriggled, five goblins inside it, trying to crab-bucket their way to a high enough point to reach out to Liberty as she passed.  She reached inside to rub a goblin’s head.

“It is.  It’s great.”

“Even in school?”

“Sometimes!  It’s like having a bunch of ugly puppies super happy you got home, everywhere you go.”

“Sure,” Lucy said, frowning.  “In a certain light.”

They passed a group of kids from school.  Hailey and some older girl Verona didn’t know.

Liberty flashed a smile, which seemed to startle Hailey.

“Hey, uh…” Hailey said, before trailing off.  “About the arcade?”

“The arcade we’re not supposed to talk about?” Verona asked, pointed.

“Yeah.  Any idea when something might be happening?  We were all talking earlier, during group work in Math, about maybe doing something on Halloween?  I’m not sure if you know who to talk to, but you seemed to know a lot and we thought it would be cool to have a big get-together there.”

“We do,” Verona replied.  “Word on the street is there’s a bigger party planned.”

Hailey deflated.

“But we can try asking,” Lucy said.  “But I don’t know how intense it’ll be.”

“Pretty intense, apparently,” Verona replied.  “Like, not necessarily okay for everyone intense.  And people who maybe shouldn’t be around… classmates.”

“Who the frig are they inviting that’s not supposed to be around us?” Hailey asked.  “Creeps?”

“No, not exactly, but we’ll ask,” Lucy repeated.  “Uh, but we really gotta go.”

Lucy led Verona and Liberty away, and the moment they were out of earshot, Liberty exclaimed, “the arcade!  The goblins mentioned it, and Avery did.  But she hasn’t been.”

“Things have been hecked the fuck up,” Verona replied.

“Yeah, for sure.  I want to see this.”

“Well, we have no idea what the future is going to be like,” Lucy said.  “We’re being attacked, right?  We don’t know if- I dunno.  Will Musser be in charge here?  Or one of the Carmine Exile’s monsters?”

“Yeahhh,” Liberty drew out the word.  “I was wondering about that.  Apparently I got a bit of a pass?  The goblins were saying the Warrens are a mess.  Lots of fighting, things that are normally asleep are astir.”

“I think anyone who’s helping against Musser is getting overlooked, kinda.  Not help exactly, but you know?  They’re not being targeted,” Verona told her.

“I’m not against Musser, exactly,” Liberty said.  “Is that bad to say?  I’m mostly against the bullshit and confusion and other garbage that’s coming with all this.  If the Carmine Exile is dangerous and the Lordships are the only way to curb that power, then maybe we have to.”

“Were, past tense,” Lucy said.  “Now he’s stronger than ever.  I don’t think there are any Musser Lordships that are really against Charles.”

Liberty sighed.

“Sorry, by the way,” Verona admitted, quiet.  “Felt like total shit leaving you and the Others to keep an eye on things.”

“Don’t be sorry.  I’m the one with the sister who’s being a fuckhead.”

“And your dad is-” Verona started.  Lucy elbowed her.

“Don’t edit yourselves on my account.  I get it.  My dad isn’t working with the full picture, America’s generally pissed off about a lot of the stuff that’s been changing, losing the Blue Heron, Alexander was pretty cool to her, you know?”

Lucy’s eyes dropped.

“Not cool all the way through, though.  You know?”  Verona asked.  “Which is kind of an ongoing thing.  We’re seeing it with a lot of people.”

Like your dad.

“I get that my dad hasn’t been super in the right, he’s spooked you guys.  If he shows up, I’ll happily talk to him, try to square things away, okay?  He should listen.”

“If you can that would be super,” Lucy said.

But he probably won’t listen and I’m seeing less and less reason to keep pretending it’s doable, Verona thought.

She kept her mouth shut.

They reached a vantage point.  As they got out of sight of the street, goblins came out of the woodwork, filling every available bit of space.  Liberty naturally let her hand rest on one goblin’s head, while using the other hand to point.

Liberty reported, “They’re sticking mostly around the cabins in Kennet above and the town hall in Kennet below, they’re mostly clustered around there.  You can see the movements.  There’s a few points they can get between Above and Below.  Freeman is helping handle the Turtle Queen, but he’s starting to struggle, it’s getting harder, enough he can’t do anything except adjust the systems, and they don’t have a lot of other people who can deal with her.”

“Can we do something to mess with him?  Like shutting off the power to that block?” Verona asked.  “No light, no power?  Maybe if we do it while it’s dark?”

Liberty shrugged.  “Technomancers would have emergency power supplies.  And Sight that helps with working with tech in that kind of darkness.”

“But that takes time, right?” Lucy asked.  “A minutes or two where the phone apps might not work and the Turtle Queen can move?”

“I guess.  I feel like I’m in a weird spot,” Liberty said.

“Anywhere you are is the best spot,” one goblin said.  Another goblin shoved that goblin over.

“Thank you,” Liberty said.  “But I want Musser to chill.”

“We all want Musser to chill.”

“But you want him to chill and go away and don’t get me wrong, I want to get him to do that too.  Your town, Avery as guardian-”

“All of us as guardians, technically,” Verona said.

“Yeah, but like, I know her, she’s one of the guardians, I talk to her online a ton, I like how her head works.  She can be a bit clueless sometimes, but if you’re there to make sure she gets the clues…”

“I have tried,” Verona said.  “Including with her and you.”

“Thank you,” Liberty said, quiet.

There was an awkward pause.  Lucy elbowed Verona again.  Verona elbowed Lucy, exaggerated, drilling elbow into ribs.

“It’s probably actually my fault she was so slow to get a clue, at least a bit,” Verona admitted.  “‘Cause I got on her case about other stuff, for fun, and she got stubborn about it.  And then when I did it about her and you, trying to maybe get her to think about it, she got stubborn and maybe like, closed that door in her head?  I dunno.”

“Maybe drop it?” Lucy asked, quiet.

Liberty shook her head.  “It’s cool.  It’s my fault, and hers for being clueless.  I wasn’t obvious enough, she didn’t get it, I missed a shot, probably better in the long run.  She’s with someone now, right?  And it’s a great girl she doesn’t have to be long distance with?  I’m happy for her.”

“Okay.  Me too,” Verona replied.

“Anyway,” Liberty said.  “Weird spot.  Because I want to protect this town for you guys and Avery, cool, but I also don’t want to make super huge enemies?  So it’s a weird spot to be in.”

“We’re really glad you came,” Lucy said.  “You backing us up.  You could’ve tried talking to America and then left after, you could’ve not come at all.  I wouldn’t have faulted you.”

“I would have a little bit,” Verona said.  She jumped a bit as a goblin glared up at her.  Lots of little yes men.  And women.  And gender-free.

“Nah.  It’s cool.  Take me to that arcade later.  Before I leave.  I’ll consider us square.”

“If we can.  Depends how things go.”

Liberty nodded.

She kept her right hand where it was at, and goblins pushed and shoved to have their heads under the hand.  She pointed across the street.  “They’re planning on calling in a pretty big goblin.  It could be one of three.  One likes to come out or be summoned at night, one needs a certain offering to eat and that has to be a pain to acquire, and one’s pretty vicious… she’d need to protect herself.”

“She has some Legendres around.”

“Yeah,” Liberty said.  She frowned.  “I was hoping to see some clues.  If all the curtains were drawn or something.  Or if they were bringing in a lot of really weird meat.”

“What kind of weird?” Verona asked.

“Uhhh, chest meat.”

“That sounds like another goblin we’ve heard of,” Lucy said.  “Breastbiter?”

“Yeah!  Holy shit.  The legend spreads, huh?”

Lucy glanced at Verona.

Verona supplied the answer, “He participated in the Carmine Trial.  Against John.  Against Charles.  Like John he went in and he, uh, didn’t come out.”

“No kidding?” Liberty asked.

“No kidding,” Lucy replied.

“Gods and spirits.  I guess that’s a special name we remove from our notebooks.”

“So it’s either one that comes out at night or a vicious fighter?”

“We’ll know by observing.  I can put my guys on it,” Liberty said.  “If they start preparing as it gets dark, the goblins can alert me and you guys it’s probably Smudge Eater.  If they start bringing the Legendres around and everything circles around those guys, we’ll know it’s probably Slaygarrrrrr Who Slavishly Slays.”

“Slaygarrrrrr,” various goblins echoed, almost reverent.  “Who Slavishly Slays.”

“You say it like that every time?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah.  You have to, actually.  Or he gets power over you.  Respect the name.”

Lucy sighed.

“Got it,” Verona replied smiling a bit.  “Others are fun.”

“They are!” Liberty exclaimed.  “Look, you guys look tired, you look like you’ve been working your asses off and fighting and you’re maybe down a bit.  I’d be down too if a cute freckled girl with strawberry blonde hair up and left this morning too.  In fact, I am a bit down about it-”

“Not how I’d phrase it but technically right,” Verona told her.

“I get it okay?  But I think this can all work out okay.  Just gotta deal with the goblin first.  They’re probably going to wait until innocents are in bed.  I think I can help with that part.”

“Talk to Toadswallow?  He knows this stuff.  I mean, he taught you,” Verona said.

Liberty made a low gurgling sound in her throat, like she really didn’t want to.

“If you can deal with the goblin, I have ideas on how to deal with America,” Lucy said.  “Verona?”

“Everything else?”

Lucy nodded.

“Okay.  Get the word out to whoever you need to talk to, let’s get chow, so we’re full and strong for when they do this-”

“You don’t think it’ll be now?”

“Nah.  Nahhhh,” Liberty said, looking over toward the cabins.  “I’ve been near a lot of battles.  They’d be acting different.  It’s not soon.  Tonight.  After innocents are asleep.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Verona felt like she wanted to question some of that positivity, especially when it went so far as to think Anthem would change his mind, or that America might back down.

Still… maybe Liberty knew something they didn’t.

“Should I get my own food?”

“Come over,” Lucy said.  “Eat with us.  My mom would probably be really happy to put a face to the name.”

“Do I have to put fake teeth in like I did for Ave?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Cool.”

“You’re coming over?” Lucy asked Verona.  “And for tonight?  Sleepover?  You asked.  I hope it’s okay, Liberty staying too.”

“Yeah.  Though I’ll have someone at my place another night.  So that’s a thing.”

Lucy nodded.  “M?”

Verona nodded.

“Codes?” Liberty asked.

“Not for you, I’ll tell you later,” Lucy said.  “Just… we just managed to pull off some chaos in the enemy ranks as you arrived, because it was hard to tell which goblin was on which side.”

“You can trust these guys,” Liberty said.

“Can you even keep track of all these?”

“For sure,” Liberty said, looking around.  “If one’s a traitor, it’s one of yours.”

“Hope not,” Lucy said.

“Me too.”

“I gotta get stuff.  To stay over, and to be ready for a fight,” Verona said.

“Good luck,” Lucy said.  “Wait, that was a dumb way to put it.  Just- see you, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Verona left Lucy and Liberty behind, as the two were talking to the goblins, organizing watches and describing what to look out for.

‘Good luck’ felt a lot like it was pretty appropriate.

Verona was tired and it had little to do with sleep, exactly, and somewhere in the middle of art class, she’d clicked as to why- that little thing in the background that was nagging at her.

She wished she could do city magic again without negotiating with Lis.  She had to leg it back.  From downtown past school, to the bridge, across, and into her neighborhood.

She didn’t announce she was home.  She went up to her room, not really trying to be silent, but also not making noise for similar reasons.  It sounded like her dad was downstairs.  Mostly, she wanted to not be bothered for the however many seconds or minutes it would take her dad to realize she’d come home.

‘Home’.  She had a home now, a place to go, and it was safe and it was cool.  She’d had weeks to stay at Jasmine’s and prepare for going back to her dad’s, and that had been anxious and weird but now it was somehow worse.  Because she’d braced herself for the return home for a while and now it was like-

-it was like she’d received a permanent invitation to Jasmine’s.  And in this imaginary scenario there wasn’t any friction with Lucy and she had her own space but it was still a bit of a sleepover every night, and there was someone on the couch in that room with the other parents, the other two, and Charles.  Someone who represented her and backed her up.

Except it was a house.  It was enticing in a completely different way.  Lonelier, though a bit better with McCauleigh there to hang out with.  But it was hers.

When she’d gone back to her dad’s after a long vacation with her mom and a longer stay with Jasmine, it had been a completely different decision.  Because there’d been no other option, really.

She hadn’t anticipated how much she’d hate the idea of going back now.  Because there was another option, this time.  It wasn’t necessarily a perfect option, but neither was going home.  So it was kind of like she was putting that toothpick under her toenail and kicking the wall repeatedly for no reason at all.

In a lesser way, it was the same for going to school.  There was another option.  It wasn’t a good option, but going didn’t feel like a good option either.  It just felt like misery.  And knowing there was another route, of just doing her own thing?  That made being there really hard.  Especially because she knew she needed to make a token effort at being here too.

She looked at her Fetch stuff in the corner.  Abandoned.

That wasn’t a good option either, but in an existence of compromises…

…Wouldn’t she really rather the adventure of a doppleganger her trying to steal her life, instead of the drudgery of school?

Probably.  She still didn’t touch the Fetch.  But now that thought had occurred to her.

There were three thumps on the wall.

“Verona!”

Verona shut her eyes, not replying.  She opened her eyes and got her stuff sorted out.  More spell cards.  Some trace glamour stuff.

Goblin stuff meant chains were good, she had one of those.  Lighter for fire…

“Verona!”

Sleepover too.  She got toiletries, and then packed a change of clothes.

While she was at it, she remembered McCauleigh’s nightmare.  She packed some old bras.  Was it weird to give an old bra?  Maybe.  But maybe she could make a joke, like, don’t call me bro, call me bra-

Her door opened.  “Verona!”

“I see we’re back to you opening my door without knocking.”

“I see we’re back to you not replying when I call your name?  Two things.”

“Uh huh?”

“First off, in the basement?  There’s a bed, a bedside table, a dresser, and two bookshelves that need assembling.”

“Good luck with that.”

“We’re very close to having the basement finished.  You need to help some, okay?” he asked.

She rubbed at her hand.  Then she saw him looking down at it and stopped.

“Okay?” he asked again.

“Maybe.”

“The standard noncommittal response, I see.  The sooner we get it done, it’s done.  We can rent out the space, that’s more money for the household, which helps us both.  It means I’m easier to deal with, it means you’ll be happier, I have to imagine.”

“I don’t actually care that much about money or things.”

“Uh huh.  When you don’t have any money I’m sure you’ll think differently.  Second thing?  Your mother got in touch.  She said it was important.”

“What?  Why not tell me that first?”

“Because if I did you wouldn’t listen to the rest of what I have to say.”

“Do I call her?  Will she call back?”

“She said to call anytime this afternoon or evening.  She’d be near the computer.  She was never there for me, so I guess it’s up to chance, huh?”

“What’s important?”

“Maybe she’s needing to go to the hospital.  Will you visit her?”

“Dad, seriously.  Do you know?”

“Maybe she’s pregnant.  She might have a new man in her life.  Or woman.  Who knows with her?”

“Sorry I asked.  Okay.  Goodbye, leave.  My room, my space, remember?  My freaking boundaries?  Knock!”

Her dad almost rolled his eyes as he shut the door.  He stopped just short.  “Work out a system of communication with that woman?  I don’t want to ever have to talk to her, important or no.”

Verona pushed the door shut, and he basically let her.

Verona hurried to get her laptop set up and plugged in.

She dialed, then sat cross-legged in her chair.

Waiting for the system to load.

Tick tock tick tock.

She squirmed in her seat.

Then as soon as it was loaded, she clicked the number on the side of the video call window.

She rubbed at her hand as the icon transitioned through a loop, showing the call in progress, connection not yet made.

Tick tock tick tock.

Her mom appearing on the black screen almost startled her a little.

“Heya.”

It didn’t sound like an emergency voice.

“What happened?  What’s important?”

“Important?  Oh.  I told your dad because he was annoyed I called, I worried he wouldn’t tell you.”

Verona deflated a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Verona replied.  “Um, okay, cool, uh…”

She lifted up her hands and dropped them back into her lap.

“Are you free?  I’m not sure if I’m interrupting your dinner.”

“No.  The plan is to go over to Lucy’s soon.  Then stay over for a sleepover.”

“Good.  Fantastic.  You’re still doing that- on a school night?”

“Doesn’t really matter.  Are you going to put in the parental veto or?” Verona let out a half-chuckle.

“No.  No, um, but the reason I called- I talked to Jasmine.”

Verona shut her eyes for a few seconds, digesting the possibilities.

“She said I should be in touch.  Even if it’s outside the usual call schedule.  I don’t know if she thinks something’s up- I asked, she didn’t say.”

Verona nodded, relieved.

“I guess from my position, ever since she told me early this afternoon- she called around two-”

“That’s when her shift ended.”

“Yeah.  I guess it sounded a whole lot like there was something important, like what you thought, at the start of the call.  But she wouldn’t say what.  That it was for you to tell me.  If you wanted to.”

“Ah.  Well, I’m not pregnant or getting married or going to the hospital.”

“That’s good.”

Verona wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, but like… her mom wasn’t being compassionate, exactly.  Not striking that tone or anything.  At the same time, though, her mom talking about being worried about Verona like Verona had just been worried about her mom took a big sledgehammer to something inside Verona, and made her feel like she could cry if she let herself.

She shrugged, not saying more.

“Is it your dad?”

“No…” Verona started.  “…yes, or maybe.  I don’t know.  It’s a lot.  It’s all been a lot.”

“What’s been a lot?”

“You ever-” Verona took a deep breath.  The words didn’t flow right.

“Do you want to come?” her mom asked.  “To me?”

Verona dropped her head, eyes looking into her lap.

Moisture welled in her eyes and she closed them carefully.  So it wouldn’t leak out.

“Can’t,” she said.

“Because of your dad?”

“No.  Other stuff.”

“Okay.  Offer stands.”

“Okay,” Verona replied.

“What’s been a lot?”

“Nearly everything, feels like?”

“Well, that is a lot.  I- I hope I don’t sound condescending.  That wasn’t the intention.”

“You’re okay,” Verona said, quiet, rubbing at her hand.  “You ever, um, you ever do a big project for work or school, and it’s this huge thing that takes up a huge amount of energy, and time, and thinking, and everything else gets pushed to the background?  And then you finish, and- and then there’s everything, right there?  And then it catches you totally off guard, and you can’t deal?”

“I’ve been there.  Quite a few times.  There’s always a letdown.”

“Well this was big, and I guess the letdown is… I’m not even sure if this is the right answer.  I’ve been trying to work out why all day and I don’t know if this is it.”

“Can I ask what the project was?”

“I- I might show you one day.”

The silence on the other end was loud enough that Verona looked up at her mom.  Her mom was looking off to the side.  Getting water or something.

“Okay,” her mom replied.  “But it was big?”

“Super big.”

“And successful?”

“Very, I think.”

“Wow.  Okay.  Congratulations.”

Verona snorted a bit.  “Thank you.  I’m wondering what you think it is, but I’m afraid to ask.”

“You’ve mentioned mysterious projects in the past.  I know you’re artistic.  The water bottle purchases?”

“In that department.  You have to be here to get it.”

“Ah.  I’d like to be there.  I could make a visit this weekend.”

“No.  There’s- there’s a lot.  There’s… no.  You have to be here to stay,” Verona said, quiet.  “Or it’s not fair.”

Again, her mom was inscrutable.  Hard to read.

“Feeling down, then?  And Jasmine got worried?”

Jasmine was worried for different reasons.  She wanted to prompt me to tell my mom, maybe, without outright telling her herself.

“I feel like, it’s more than feeling down.  But it’s a lot to get into.”

“And you’re going to Lucy and Jasmine’s later?”

Verona nodded.

“Okay, well, if you want to talk, I can stay on as long as you want me to,” her mom replied.  “I ordered dinner fifteen minutes ago, they might be knocking on my door soon, but besides that, I’m here.  If you want to talk another day, schedule allowing-”

“Tash ditched me.  You remember Tash?”

“I remember Tash.  I do.”

Why had she started with Tashlit?

“Yeah, she’s friendly, but she’s not- she’s around and she helps me out sometimes but it changed.  I think she’s avoiding me.”

“I’m sorry that’s-”

“And a boy I was friends with, an artist boy, Jeremy- he ditched me.”

“Why?  I remember you mentioning Jeremy.  Why would he-“

“Because he got a girlfriend and he wanted me to be his girlfriend and then when I wouldn’t he got another one and ditched me and it sucks.”

“Okay, wow, okay.  Two heartbreaks, there, huh?  Close together?”

“Yeah.  I’m not doing super well in school right now.”

“I think the CAS worker you talked to had conversations with your teachers.  I think if you’re upfront about what’s going on, they’ll cut you some slack.”

“You don’t know Mr. Bader, or Mr. Sitton.”

“I don’t, you’re right.  What happened?  With school?”

“I stopped paying attention for a little while.  Other stuff seemed more important.  And now it’s like I don’t understand five straight words out of my teacher’s mouths a lot of the time.  And it’s not even that important in the grand scheme of it all, but that makes it worse-”

“School is very important, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t fixable.”

It’s not important compared to everything else, that’s the thing.

“What’s the point, even?” Verona asked, head bowed, hands pressed into her calves, legs crossed beneath her.  “Except that I don’t want to worry Jasmine or Lucy, and I made promises.”

“To what?” her mom asked, and it was very carefully worded.

“To keep working at school.  To hold onto normal, I guess.  It’s not me.  I’m not- the more I get a taste for other stuff, the less bearable all of this gets, you know?” Verona asked, breathing that last word more than she spoke it.  “The rules, the conventions.  Feels like everyone’s got boyfriends and girlfriends and they’re doing great at school and they don’t have this other sh- crap to worry about, and even Lucy seems to manage somehow, and I’ve found things I’m good at.  Places I want to be.  I want to quit being… human.”

There was silence on the other end.

“I’m trying to think of what to say-”

Verona heard the sound of a doorbell.

“And that’s my food.”

Verona started laughing to herself, not making a noise, just with her body shaking.

The doorbell kept ringing.

“I’ve got to- if I don’t answer he’ll keep dinging the bell.  I’m with you, I want to answer, just- pretend I’m sitting here thinking really hard about what to say, because that’s not far from the truth, okay?”

The doorbell continued in the background.

“I’m very good at pretending.  Okay.  get your food.”

Verona’s chair creaked as she rotated a few degrees one way.  She twisted her body and reversed the rotation some.

She imagined her mother sitting there, thinking super hard.

“Normal,” her mother said, “is overrated.”

“I think so too,” Verona said.  “Sorry to whinge at you like I just did.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I figure it’s probably what dad did to you before the divorce, and you got away from it, I guess, and good for you.  Cool that you can do that.”

“No, Verona.  No.  I want you to share this with me.”

Verona shrugged.

“I know the feeling, of being in school, and it feeling like everyone’s having sex or out dating…”

“Literally more than half the class is dating, I’m pretty sure.  Small town, people get bored, and I think some girls are playing matchmaker.  It’s super dumb.  But there you go.”

“Okay, well, I can at least tell you, in my experience, that people your age aren’t out having sex, okay?  It felt that way, but ten times out of ten, it turned out to be just talk.”

“Okay,” Verona replied.  No comment.

“It feels overwhelming, and it feels awful to be behind-”

“Unbearable, just about,” Verona replied.

“Like I can barely sit through class at this point.  Like I’ve got other stuff to do and I’m wasting time, or they’re going at this racing speed saying things I don’t understand and I hate it.  It feels dumb or it feels like I’m dumb  I hate it.  I hate it- I’d-”

Verona stopped herself short.

“What were you going to say?”

“That it felt like- I had an itch on my arm earlier today.  And I felt like, I couldn’t scratch it.  Because if I did, I’d keep scratching until my arm was bleeding.  Like… like a cat with her leg in a trap, gnawing the leg off.”

“That bad.”

“So bad I can barely work out what the teachers want me to work out.  Which just makes it worse, or I spend all my time trying to make sense of why I hate it or why it’s that bad and then I miss stuff.  I just… hate it.”

Her mom sighed.

“You should eat.  Or I could just like, tell you I’ll try and suck it up a bit longer and end the call and go eat at Jasmine’s.”

“Don’t- let’s figure this out, okay?”

Verona shrugged.

But her mom got the food containers open.  It looked like Indian food.  Curry.

“What do you need?” her mom asked, focused on not spilling as she ate at her keyboard.

“What do I need?”

“Just- let’s make sure that if we’re solving problems and figuring this out, we’re fixing the right things.  What do you want?”

Verona looked around her room.  She worried half the responses she could give would give her mom the wrong impression.  Escape.  To be gone from here.

“Time.”

“Time?”

“Time.  To do the things I want to do.  A lot of things.  Things that I’m good at.  I think if I could, I could be really great.  I really think that.  But I gotta do school?”

“Pretty non negotiable.  Legally.”

Verona made a face.

“Time.  Okay.  I went out to lunch with Kelsey last week.  Before she went to Kennet- that happened?”

“Yes.  Their late Thanksgiving.”

“Good.”

“It’s cool you talked.”

“It’s nice.  Especially without the chaos of the-”

“-of the Kelly kids,” Verona finished, as her mom said something approximate.  “Yeah.”

“Her husband homeschooled, she said.”

“Oh wow,” Verona replied.  “Wow oh wow.  I can just imagine.  If I feel like a cat about to chew through its leg to get away in school, I don’t know what I’d feel like if fucking Dad was homeschooling me, wow, no.”

“Let me finish?”

“Oh god.  Oh, myriad spirits.  Oh no.”

“I only meant to say… there are options.  It doesn’t have to be school like you’re doing it.  And it doesn’t have to be your dad teaching you as the only alternative.”

“Oh gods and spirits, thank you, good, holy shit, can you imagine?”

“I can’t.”

Verona laughed a bit at the absurdity of it.

“There are independent learning courses.  Online.  Or we could ask the Kellys if they know someone who was in the homeschooling community who you could homeschool with now.  Perhaps you’d go over and we could pay them to supervise.”

“Me just going over to some random’s house to study with their kids?”

“I’m just putting ideas out there.  There have to be options, okay, Verona?  I’m a firm believer in that.  Let me talk to David, from CAS.  And to your dad.”

“Dad said I should find a way for you to not have to call him.”

“Your dad can get over it.  It’s part of being a parent.  Is he okay?  Is the situation there unbearable too?”

“It’s not like it is at school.”

“Okay.  Good.  I’m going to call David, okay?  Tomorrow.  Talk about options, see what’s out there.”

“It’d mean leaving Lucy behind.  And we’re already drifting apart.”

“If it’s unbearable it’s unbearable.  Let’s look into options.  And I think- I’m not very good at maintaining deep friendships, so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt.”

“Sure.”

“I think you’re inseparable.  You might go your own ways for brief whiles, but you’ll rebound and come back together.  I believe that.  Not like you used to be, but in a different way.”

“It scares the crap out of me.  That we might not rebound sometime.”

“Then work at it.”

Verona shrugged.

“I’m sorry you lost your other two friends.”

“Me too.”

“Do you want me to let you go?  To Lucy’s?”

“I want to talk more, if you meant what you said,” Verona replied.

“Okay.  Okay, absolutely.  Great.”

“Can I go put some food in the microwave and come back?  And I gotta text Lucy.  Tell her I’ll meet her after.”

“Absolutely.”

“Pretend I’m here saying really cool, thoughtful stuff, okay?”

“I will try.”

Verona went to do that.  The microwave beeped as she punched in the time for some microwaveable butter chicken.

“Verona!” her dad hollered from the basement.

“Busy!”

She texted Lucy, got her food, and then headed back to her room.

One of her rooms.  She had a magic house, she reminded herself.

“Very thoughtful and interesting things,” her mom said, as she pulled her headphones on.

“What’s that?”

“Nevermind.  You know, I don’t think I’m very good at being a wife.  Just to- to go back to what you said before.”

“Me a wife?”

“You and not wanting to be Jeremy’s girlfriend.  And possibly being aromantic?”

Her mom put that out there.

“Dunno,” Verona replied.

“Well, I don’t know how much similarity there is, but I don’t think I was very good at being a wife, and I haven’t felt the inclination to do anything since divorcing your dad.  Maybe if I’d drawn boundaries or examined myself like you’ve been doing, I could’ve avoided a lot of grief.”

“You could’ve avoided having me.”

“Ah, that worked out pretty well, I think.”

“I don’t have any great advice.  Sorry.  Just sympathies.”

“Sympathies are nice.  Hey, uh, can I ask?  How would you be at helping me with my social studies homework?”

“Let’s take a look.”

“You good?” Lucy asked, as Verona walked over.

Verona nodded.  “Better than I was.”

“What’s up?”

“Talked to my mom, worked stuff out.  Might make adjustments.  I’ll get into it another time.”

“Sounds good.”

“Dinner was okay?”

“Yeah.”

Verona looked over at Liberty, who was trailing behind.

After about a minute of short responses, Liberty hung up.  Then she sighed.

“We good to go?  Dealing with a big goblin and seeing what we can do about your sister?” Verona asked.

“Ideally talking this out, but I don’t know how that’ll go,” Liberty said.

“Were you talking to Avery?”

“Yeah, and Avery’s been talking to a lot of people.  Word on the street, according to her, is that my daddy’s on his way into Kennet tonight.”

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