Born at Midnight (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Open it already,” Della shouted from behind Kylie.

Kylie looked over her shoulder, from Della to her right to Miranda on her left. Taking a deep breath, Kylie looked back at the e-mail and clicked open.

Hey hon, I was wrong. I wasn’t born at eleven o’clock, it was ten p.m. Ten twenty-three to be exact. Your dad was born at nine forty-six a.m. Did you call your …

Kylie stopped reading. Neither of her parents was born at midnight. Emotion did cartwheels inside her chest. Heavy emotion. Was this relief? It should be relief.

It meant she wasn’t a supernatural.

“See, I told you guys. I’m not one of you.” Her chest clutched with a heavy emotion that didn’t feel like relief. She didn’t want to be one of them, did she? Or maybe what she felt was just disappointment for not fitting in. Again. Wasn’t that the story of her life?

Deep down, you’ve always known you were different.
Holiday’s words played in Kylie’s head. And for the first time, she admitted to herself that Holiday was right. Kylie had always felt different. Always felt like the outsider. But she wasn’t … different. Well, she might be different.

She just wasn’t a supernatural.

This was the proof.

“I don’t believe it.” Della spoke up first.

Then Miranda piped in. “Holiday mentioned it does skip generations.”

“Only in rare situations,” Kylie said.

“Maybe your mom’s lying,” Della added.

Kylie looked back at the vampire. “Why would she lie?”

Della shrugged. “Maybe she’s just in a pissy mood because she’s getting a divorce. I don’t know.”

“Your parents are getting a divorce?” Miranda asked.

“Yeah,” Kylie said, not even the tiniest bit upset at Della for mentioning it. She may have only known them for a few days but she trusted these two.

“Sucky.” Miranda pressed a hand on Kylie’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Yeah.” Kylie stared back at the e-mail.

“Why are they divorcing?” Miranda asked.

“I don’t know. Mom’s so…”

“Bitchy.” Della tossed out the word.

Kylie almost nodded, then stopped. “No. She’s not really a bitch, she’s just … cold, distant. About as warm as a popsicle. I actually heard my dad tell her that a while back.”

“So your dad’s having an affair,” Della said matter-of-factly.

Kylie turned in her chair and stared at Della. “No.”

Della made a face. “Believe me, if he accused your mom of being a popsicle, he’s found some young ‘warm’ thing to screw.”

“He’s not like that,” Kylie said with conviction. Right then she realized what she said about her mom being cold.

“And by cold, I meant … emotionally, not—”

“I know,” Della said. “Don’t go thinking you’ve got to tiptoe around my feelings.” But her eyes said differently.

Kylie knew all about pretending to be tough. She’d had a crash course in it these last few weeks.

Kylie looked back at the screen. “Mom, she’s just … hard to live with sometimes. I don’t blame my dad for leaving her.”

“So are you going to live with your dad?” Miranda asked.

The question took Kylie back to the day she’d stood in the driveway, begging her dad to take her with him. As much as it hurt to remember, she had to accept the truth—that day, it felt as though when he decided to leave her mom, he’d also decided to leave her.

“It’s late and I’m tired.” Kylie got up and went to the bedroom and unlike earlier, this time she was able to cry.

*   *   *

The next morning Kylie marched into her meeting with Holiday and placed a copy of her mother’s e-mail on the table in front of the camp leader.

“See, I told you so,” Kylie said. “Now maybe you can just call my shrink and have her tell my mom to bring me home.”

The idea of going back home wasn’t nearly as life-altering as it had felt a few days ago. There was even a part of her that didn’t want to go—but considering she wasn’t supernatural, she really didn’t belong here, either.

“What’s this?” Holiday glanced back at the note, and her eyes widened when she read it. Looking up, she met Kylie’s gaze. “Okay, I admit I’m surprised, but it doesn’t really change the facts.”

“Why not? You told me that only in very rare circumstances would it skip a generation.”

“What about the fact that you see ghosts? That you were born at midnight? Or that your brain doesn’t read like a human?”

Kylie dropped into the chair across from Holiday. “I could be crazy. Or like you said the other day, just a freak of human nature and dealing with a super-charged ghost.”

Holiday nodded and then leaned forward. “Or … maybe the people you think are your parents aren’t really your parents.”

Kylie’s mouth dropped open. “Believe me, with the crap that is going on at home right now, I’d love to believe I was adopted, but I’ve seen pictures of my mom pregnant.”

Holiday opened her mouth as if to argue and then shook her head. “Like I said earlier, this is your quest.”

“
Was
my quest. I completed it. I found the answer. I’m just a human.”

Holiday propped her right elbow on the table and rested her chin in her open palm. Kylie had begun to think of it as the camp leader’s trademark mannerism because she always seemed to do it when she was launching into one of her “Is this how you really feel?” speeches.

It reminded her of her shrink, Ms. Day, who did pretty much the same except hers was to lean back in her chair and nod.

The worst part was that tactic always worked on Kylie, too.

“Are you really sure of that?” Holiday asked. “Do you really want to leave Shadow Falls Camp?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Kylie dropped her face into her hands for a second. “I mean … right now, everyone is with their own kind. Miranda’s with the witches, Della’s with the vampires. And I’m … well, I’m here with you because I don’t belong.” Kylie felt like a total outsider—a misfit.

“Is anyone making you feel unwelcome?” Holiday asked.

“It’s not that,” Kylie said.

Holiday let out a deep breath. “I saw Fredericka last night. If there’s a problem—”

“No problem,” Kylie said, not wanting the she-wolf to think Kylie had tattled. “This has nothing to do with her.” And that much of it was completely true.

Holiday looked back at the paper. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. Give me … no, give yourself two weeks to think this over, Kylie. If you still want to leave then, I’ll personally talk to your mother.”

Maybe because deep down Kylie wasn’t looking forward to going back home to her mom—or, more likely, because she knew she’d miss Miranda and Della—she decided two weeks wasn’t such a big deal.

“You got it,” Kylie said.

“Great.” Holiday stood up. “And since I may only have two weeks, I think it’s time we get serious.”

“Serious about what?” Kylie asked as Holiday pulled two yoga mats from the closet.

“Ghosts.” Holiday spread out the mats on the floor and then motioned Kylie to sit down. “You have to learn to deal with your ghosts, Kylie.”

“I just have one,” Kylie said.

Holiday arched a brow. “It starts with one. But believe me when I say others will come. As a matter of fact, they already have come. You just don’t remember.”

Kylie’s stomach began to twist into a knot. “What are you talking about?”

“I read in your files that you’ve been having night terrors.”

Holiday’s words sank in. “You’re telling me that the night terrors are … ghosts?”

Holiday nodded. “Right now, they are coming to you when you’re asleep. But eventually, if it happens with you the way it did with me, they’ll start appearing when you’re standing in line at the movie theater, sitting in a classroom, even out on a date.”

Kylie recalled the nights she’d awakened feeling completely terrified, but clueless as to what had caused it. Chills crawled up her spine. “I just want to learn how to turn them off.”

A frown appeared on Holiday’s face. “That’s your choice. But let me put it to you like this. To reach the cut-off switch, you have to pass through a place where spirits like to hang out.”

“Is it like a one-time-only switch? Once I cut it off, I won’t be bothered again?”

Holiday shrugged. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how badly a spirit wants to talk to you.” Holiday sat down on the mat. “Have you ever done any form of meditation?”

Kylie shook her head.

“Have you heard about out-of-body experiences?”

“No.” And she preferred to stay in her body, thank you very much. “So are you saying ghosts can just keep turning my switch back on even if I don’t want them to?”

“A powerful one can.” Holiday motioned for Kylie to sit on the mat. “Or you can just hear them out and see what they want. The latter works best for me. Now, let’s practice some meditation techniques.”

*   *   *

The next four days passed in a blur. Kylie tried to talk Della and Miranda into taking a hike to the falls, but neither of them wanted any part of it. It appeared that if Kylie wanted to see the falls, she was going to have to go by herself. There was only one little problem—the thought of facing dancing death angels by herself scared the crap out of her. So she decided to stop fixating over seeing the waterfalls. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have other things to fixate about. Things like Della and Miranda’s persistent bickering. They continued to fight at least once a day. And Kylie continued to break them up before one of them murdered the other.

Kylie spoke with her mom every morning and night, too. When Kylie didn’t call her, her mom took it upon herself to call Kylie. The fact that her mom did call made Kylie more aware that her daddy didn’t. She told herself it was simply a male thing, that most men didn’t call unless they had something to say.

Besides, she’d see him Sunday, which was tomorrow. A fact her mother had been a tad upset about. But please, her mom had been the one who told her to ask if he was coming.

And Kylie was glad she had. She really wanted—needed—to see her dad. And for some reason, probably because she missed him so much, the closer Sunday came, the closer Kylie was to forgiving her dad. Hopefully, by tomorrow her dad would have missed her enough that he would agree to let Kylie live with him when her two weeks were done at camp.

Kylie ate up about sixty minutes talking and texting Sara, who amazingly had completely recovered from her pregnancy scare and was now back in full swing with her new boyfriend—a nineteen-year-old cousin of one of her neighbors.

If Kylie read Sara’s innuendos correctly, the two of them would be having sex in the near future. Kylie had come so close to reminding her friend what she’d just gone through, but at the last minute, she lost her nerve. That or she simply decided that saying it would accomplish nothing other than to push her best friend further away.

Sara never excelled at taking advice.

Trey had called twice with the same song and dance. He loved her, he was sorry. If she’d just give him a chance he’d prove how much he loved her.

Kylie suspected his “proof” would include their getting naked. And the more she thought about it, the more inclined she was to keep her clothes on. She’d even asked Trey if he could just be her friend for the summer. But then he’d freaked out when she’d said another boy’s name. What would he do if she decided to move on and go out with someone else? Go off the deep end, she suspected.

Why couldn’t Trey be more like Derek? She’d asked the half Fae to be her friend, and other than telling her he had wanted her to kiss him, he had stopped coming on to her.

Oh, he was nice. Always spoke to her, even asked about her problems with her parents. They also talked about Holiday’s resentment at both of them for wanting to turn off their gifts. Most days, he would even come and sit with her for at least one of their meals. Nevertheless, everything about his behavior spoke only of friendship.

No more hot lingering gazes up close where she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

No more special smiles.

No more feeling his breath on her cheek.

No more touching.

Even when he sat beside her, he always seemed to make sure there was a good six inches of space between them.

The fact that she’d see him sitting shoulder to shoulder with other girls stung like a fire ant.

She ignored the sting and told herself it was for the best. She was leaving in a little more than a week. And face it, the best things weren’t always fun.

For example, learning how to meditate, trying to get to the off switch to cut off the ghosts, was turning into an all-time dreaded chore. Holiday had her hitting the mat three times a day. They’d tried burning incense, counting, music, and even visualization, but nothing seemed to help. Kylie’s mind refused to find an altered state of any kind.

Holiday stayed forever hopeful, Kylie not so much. “It will happen, I promise,” Holiday would say after each failed session.