Afterthought: A Sententia Short Story (The Sententia) (2 page)

My gift was depressing, so I turned the question around on him. “How about you? Anything this week?” When he wasn’t selling books, Carter spent good portions of his days scouring the news as an Historian for the Perceptum, looking for hints of Sententia using their gifts recklessly.

“There’s a ‘miracle worker’ in India we’re starting to get worried about. Uncle Jeff may need to go soon.”

“How soon?”

“Next week.”

I didn’t like it when Carter’s uncle traveled for the Perceptum. It was, sometimes, dangerous. He did good work he believed in, though, and I guessed I’d rather it was him than someone else. I knew Jeff Revell would do everything in his power to treat people fairly, whoever needed it. Sometimes it was the Sententia he sought out—and sometimes their victims.

But India. That was a place I’d never been during all my travels, one that seemed so exotic and beautiful. “Under better circumstances, I’d love to go there.”

“Someday,” Carter said. His smile was full of promises, and I liked that. It made his eyes crinkle in a way that reminded me of his Aunt Melinda. Penrose eyes, I supposed. I liked that, too. Carter was handsomer than his father from the few pictures I’d seen, but it was obvious he looked like him. His mother showed up in the slant of his smile and the blue of his irises. There were days, frequent, that I still wished I looked like either of my parents.

My connection to my own mother especially felt tenuous, a tiny bridge of blood and memories shored up by my aunt. I knew Carter felt the same, so far from his mother, except for the Thought Mover’s blood that flowed in his veins. It was amazing how our parents, and theirs, and on and on up the family tree, could so define our lives when we’d never even known them.

“Hey. What’re you thinking about?” A touch on my hand brought me back to reality.

“India,” I fibbed. “With you.”

“Someday,” he repeated, with a kiss to my palm to seal the promise in his words. I went back to daydreaming with a smile of my own, this time really about someday travels with the boy I loved, even if they never came true.

The future
. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about it, or what a brief vision had once shown me it might hold for Carter and me. But some days, like this one, I’d let those worries fall to the background. Instead, I’d choose to believe the future was waiting, long and filled with possibilities. Maybe someday we would go to India. Maybe after graduation, I’d splurge for a first class trip, just Carter and me, to celebrate.

But for now, the future seemed far away, and my present was sitting next to me, singing along to the music with a voice he’d never admit was pretty good and taking me to my favorite place in the world. I closed my eyes and relaxed, pretending the hum of the tires on the road was the sound of the ocean growing closer and closer.

As we neared the end of the highway, passing the last few exits before the one we wanted, I sat up straighter and practically itched to open the door handle. I watched the signs go by and counted the miles, then counted the minutes as we joined the line of cars marching through town toward the coast. On a day like this, we weren’t the only ones headed that way. The difference of a few turns would take us to the neighboring town, which was charming, with shops and restaurants and a great antiques barn we’d visited the last time we’d driven out here. I actually preferred it to the town we were in, except for the four miles of state beach it didn’t have.

“One of my last tours was from out here. Incoming ninth grader,” I mused as we sat through another traffic light.

The last of my summer jobs was as a volunteer for the Academy Admissions office. That was more of a “job,” since I didn’t get paid for it, but I enjoyed it immensely. I gave tours to incoming and prospective students and their families. It was only a few times a week, at most, and it gave me a chance to give back to the Academy. I’d already signed up to be a lower school dorm rep for the following year too.

She’d been a shy girl, the soon-to-be freshman, but I knew she’d find a good place for herself at the Academy. She’d opened up some when I’d told her how jealous I was that she got to live at the shore all the time. Maybe she was on the beach right now. I thought about getting out and walking the half-mile or so between me and my personal nirvana, but that seemed rude, even if I knew Carter would understand. It must have been pretty obvious what I was thinking, because he pushed the lock button on the doors before speaking. I looked over at him with a sheepish grin.

“Us or them?” he asked. He meant was the kid or her parents Sententia, like us, and the answer was no.

Headmaster Stewart liked being able to have a Legacy student show new people around. It encouraged them to consider establishing a future Legacy, she said, if they weren’t already claiming one. It also meant that I knew everyone’s secret because I shared it. Of course, not
all
the students were part of our secret society, so we were very careful about what we said and to whom. Regardless of how little I actually liked the life of secrecy, being discreet was a directive of my daily existence and I was excellent at it.

“Snob,” I mocked. “I was basically a ‘them’ when I first started, you know.”

“No you weren’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.
I
thought so. I didn’t even know there
was
an ‘us’ or a you for that matter.”

“That’s not true either,” he said. “I’m sure you dreamed about me.” I snorted, but then he said one of those awesome things that probably would have sounded gag-worthy to anyone else. “I know I dreamed about you.”

We made the last turn into the parking lot as my heart melted.

All the hours there, I’d carried the smell of the griddle, scenting the car with grease and syrup. One dive into the ocean would take care of that. As soon as we reached the sand, I dropped my bag, peeled off my tank top and shorts, and ran straight into the water.

As far as showers went, it was cold but perfect.

The sun was high
and bright, making the air shimmer and warming the sand, but a light breeze kept it from being too hot. In fact, it was pretty much the perfect beach weather, or as perfect as it could get in New England. It wasn’t Mexico, or Hawaii, or any number of other places whose beaches I loved to visit, but a day at any beach was better than no beach at all.

I could tell Carter’s eyes watched me eagerly from behind his sunglasses as I dashed back from the water, the droplets that still clung to me evaporating with each step. A small, amused smile played on his lips but I could feel the heat of his gaze, telling me my favorite bikini was, in fact, a big hit.

“Is that seriously a yellow polka-dot bikini?” he asked, running his hand carelessly across my butt as I laid down on my stomach next to him. He’d neatly arranged our blanket and laid out my towel and sunscreen too. He’d even folded my shirt and shorts and set them on my bag. It was sweet, but also, just Carter. Disorder was not relaxing for him.

I slipped on my own sunglasses and smiled. “You bet it is, just like the song. It’s my favorite.” It was tiny, and tied with strings on top and bottom. I never wore it until my tan was dark enough for it to look good.

Carter leaned back on his elbows and said, offhand, “It might be mine too.” I grinned with delight on the inside.

Okay, maybe I was supposed to pretend like I didn’t
know
I looked good in this suit, but I did. I had eyes and a healthy sense of myself—that was how my aunt had raised me. She wanted me to be free to know who I was, inside
and
outside, so long as I understood where the real beauty was in everyone. I was tall with pretty features and exercised a lot to stay healthy. The first was luck of parental genes and the second I was proud of. What really mattered was how I acted. Sometimes Aunt Tessa was a little granola, but she wasn’t wrong.

Carter could have been confused for one of the many lifeguards patrolling the beach, with his red swim trunks and tan, muscular body. His caramel colored hair was streaked with gold from the long summer and blew across his forehead in adorable, tangled waves. I actually thought Carter would have loved being a lifeguard, if not for the bookstore. He was born for walking the sand, spending most of his time getting checked out by the beach-goers and occasionally saving people.

“What?” he said, smiling, after I’d been staring at him without reply. I told him what I’d been thinking and he laughed, but also preened a little. “Maybe,” he allowed, which translated as
totally
. He didn’t mind the idea of getting checked out or coming to the rescue.

“Well, you can start by saving me from sunburn. Do my back?” I handed him my sunscreen and rested my head on my arms.

This was another perk on my long list of reasons I loved the beach. He took his time, on purpose, and I didn’t complain. His hands brushed lazily across my shoulders and down my sides while I sighed in contentment. My heart beat a little faster when his fingers slipped under the strings of my bikini. It was hardly a big deal, but I liked it all the same. When they started to stray a little further than necessary, I peered at him over the top of my sunglasses.

Even if his own eyes were hidden, I could still tell there was a wicked glint in them when he said, “Just being thorough.”

I flicked sand at him and sat up, tugging him to his feet behind me as I stood. “C’mon. Let’s go find a game.”

Sports
were Carter’s favorite part of the beach, bikinis being a distant second. He’d play just about anything, find any excuse to keep moving, and on such a busy day at the shore, it was easy for him to keep occupied. I stuck to volleyball, sunbathing, and spectating.

Carter flopped down next to me on the blanket where I reclined, actively pursuing the last two activities on my list. “You have to play the next game,” he said. “The other team was so lost without you that was barely fun.”

“I will,” I promised. “Just wanted a breather.” Which was a lie. What I’d really wanted to do, not that I’d ever tell him as much, was enjoy the chance to watch Carter in the second pick-up volleyball game. What could I say? I was a girl in love.

I’d played the first, and my team had actually won, after Carter and I had been forced to play on opposite sides. He was naturally athletic and I played on the school volleyball team. Between the two of us, we had more skills than most of the people just playing for fun at the beach.

“You really are a good player, you know,” he said and idly traced some sand on my arm with his finger. “I think you could probably play on your college team, at least as a walk-on, wherever you end up choosing.”

That was flattering. I wasn’t nearly so sure of my abilities and I peeked over at him to make sure he was being serious. He smiled at me, a genuine one.

“Thanks,” I said. “Maybe I’ll think about it. I’m not sure I’ll want to make that kind of commitment though. College sports seem so much more…demanding than in high school. I’m worried enough about doing well in classes.”

He laughed lightly and then rolled over onto his stomach, propping up on his elbows. “Please, Lane. You have nothing to worry about. You make honor roll at the Academy, which is no small feat. College won’t be that much more challenging, I promise.”

“It won’t for you,” I said, then added, “when you finally decide to go, anyway.”

We were close together already, so it didn’t take much for him to lean in and kiss me briefly before saying, “I thought maybe I’d ‘finally’ go next year.”

Whoa.
This
was a surprise. So far he’d been non-committal about what he wanted to do and, more specifically, when. I pushed my sunglasses up on my head and pulled back to get a better look at him. “Really? Where?”

He was wearing his characteristic measured look, which signaled a number of things, including when he was trying to decide how to say something. I couldn’t figure out why he’d use it now. “I was thinking…Harvard or MIT; American; NYU or Yale; or Stanford or Harvey Mudd.” He rattled off the names quickly, all in one breath.

Quite a list, though nothing surprising on it for Carter’s qualifications—all Ivy League or other academically great schools. But something about it made me pause. After a moment I realized all of his choices were relatively nearby, if not right in the same city as, most of my prospective colleges. I laughed a little, thinking this time he really was joking with me. “You forgot one in Pennsylvania and Miami.”

But he didn’t laugh along. “Well, I’ll keep Penn or Carnegie Mellon in mind, but I don’t think I’ll need them. Penn State is your safety school. And I haven’t bothered to come up with anything near Florida because I don’t really think you’ll go to Miami either. You just added it to your list because of this.” He smiled and trickled a handful of sand through his fingers.

Okay. The crack about Miami and the beach aside, he
wasn’t
joking. I gulped audibly and sat up. “You…You plan to go somewhere near where I choose?” I stammered. I had never expected this. I knew he wanted to go to college at some point, once he decided what he really wanted to study, but he didn’t feel like he had to rush. He could already practically enroll in a PhD program and he wasn’t even twenty yet.

“If you don’t mind,” he said. His tone was serious, maybe even nervous. “It’s…as good a time as any for me to go too. I don’t need to put it off any longer. And given the choice, I’ll always choose to be near you.” He frowned a little, as he looked up at me from where he was still prone on our blanket, before sitting up and brushing his fingers tentatively through my hair. “Do you mind? I…hoped you’d be happy.”