Chaos (Kardia Chronicles) (Entangled Teen) (26 page)

She shot me a dirty look as we headed off toward the seating area. We weaved our way through the food court until we found two empty spots. Libby dragged a red vinyl chair out and plopped down onto it with a sigh, hefting her shopping bags onto the table.

“You said you wanted to get in shape for the dance. I don’t want to nag you because you look great like you are, but what’s going on? You’re not going to bail on me, are you?”

I hated the pleading note in her voice and that sad-sack face she was making so much. I looked away and took a honking, defiant bite out of my pretzel-dog. She was the sweetest person I knew, but some part of me was also aware that she wasn’t above emotional blackmail and she knew I hated seeing her unhappy. I chewed and swallowed before responding.

“Not bailing so much as reassessing. It was a momentary interruption of sanity. I forgot that formal dances are stupid. It’s a bunch of girls dressing up in gowns that look like they belong at a drag show or on some wussy little Disney princess, and that’s just not my thing.”

“You said you were going, like, a week ago. I don’t get what’s changed.” She shook her head in disgust, forked up a slice of melon, and plugged it into her piehole.

“I know I did, but I realized if I have to wear that stupid stuff all night I’ll be miserable.”

She looked like she was about to cry and after she spent her whole day helping me, that felt like shit. Plus, I was trying to stay positive, but there was a very real chance this might be the last month we spend together where I even recognized her face. I didn’t want to spend even a second of it fighting with her. I searched for a compromise.

“I’ll make you a deal.” I set down the uneaten half of my pretzel-dog that Libby had so graciously ruined for me with all the dance talk and held out a pinkie. “If you find a way to make it so that I don’t have to wear some froofy dress and can rock my Vans instead of heels, then I’ll come to the Swirl.”

Libby squealed and thrust out her pinkie so fast I almost pulled mine away.

The school had never allowed people to show up at the formal in anything less than full-on formalwear, so I had no idea how this year could possibly be any different. So what did she know that I didn’t, and why was she so happy?

That last chunk of pretzel-dog lodged in my chest, and I clutched Libby’s pinkie, sealing our deal. It felt bad. Real bad. Like contract-with-Rumpelstiltskin bad.

She pulled her hand away and started chattering nonstop, ending with, “So now we’ve just got to find you a date.”

“Wait. I never said anything about a date.” An image of Mac flashed through my head, and I shut it down quick. Everyone else was off-limits. “Not happening. No way. I go solo or not at all. I said I was trying to move on, but I’m totally not to the dating stage yet.”

She wrinkled her perfect little nose and waved me off. “Whatever. It doesn’t have to be a real date. We’ll all go together. You, Bink, and me! He and the girl of the month broke up, and he was planning on going alone anyway.”

“They broke up already?” He hadn’t mentioned it, but then again, they’d only seen each other once out of school, so it wasn’t exactly big news.

“Yeah, today.” Her face lit up and she chuckled. “She was mad because he told her she looked like Taylor Swift, and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because she was shooting for more of a bad girl, Ke$ha vibe.”

That had me grinning.

“Did you hear that Ella asked Mac?” she asked.

I had
not
heard that, and the news made my power sizzle against the Diet Coke in my hand, hard enough that I could feel the wax on the cup heat and drip down the sides.

“Oh, that’s cool. So are they, like, serious all of a sudden?”

Libby waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda, I think. She was getting annoyed because they haven’t been hanging out as much, and he still hadn’t asked her to go, but then when she asked him, he said yes. I don’t get it. I can’t stand him, but he does at least seem anti–silly clique high school stuff. Then he blows his one redeeming quality by asking out the most popular, annoying girl in school.” She rolled her eyes in disgust. “They don’t have anything in common that I can tell, either. The gossip at the last dance committee meeting was that she’s a frontrunner for Snow Queen. Be interesting if Mac is crowned King.”

Would it? “Yeah. Interesting.” A weird, acrid taste filled my mouth, and I wadded up the rest of my hot dog in some napkins and launched it into the can over Libby’s shoulder.

“That’s good for three!” she crowed, holding up her hand for a high five. She forked up the last of her fruit salad and made an over-the-shoulder shot of her own that bounced off the rim before tumbling in.

“Touchdown,” I said, holding up both arms halfheartedly.

“No. Not really, but you get an A for effort.”

We wiped off the table and stood to get our bags. I still had to pick up a new backpack and some boxer shorts to sleep in, but the desire to shop had disappeared sometime between dance talk and the mention of Mac and Ella becoming King and Queen. I reached into my pocket and cupped the ring nestled there, but despite the little jolt, this time it didn’t soothe me.

“I’m shot. If you have what you need, we can head out. I’ll come back another day.”

Libby eyed me hard and pursed her lips like she was thinking about arguing, but then let it slide. “Okay. But if I get permission for you to wear sneakers, we’re going to be spending some serious time here soon. I like the fact that you’re wearing something that fits for once, but we’ve got to step it up a notch.” She gestured to my jeans and sweater like she was pointing at a nest of rats.

So much for my improved image, but whatevs. If she wanted to dress me, I’d let her. To an extent. At that point I was just glad to be leaving the mall.
Mac and Ella at the Swirl.
My stomach lurched and I swallowed hard, solid in the knowledge that my pretzel-dog wouldn’t taste nearly as good in reverse. Suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to sit on my floor surrounded by my collection of treasures, and until I’d done that, I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.

Half an hour later, I got my wish. I nestled in the middle of my room with my legs crossed beneath me, inside a circle of shiny stuff. There were rings and bracelets. A picture in a frame and an eagle feather. A locket—that one made me feel both the best and the worst because of the picture inside—and an old pocket watch. I counted them slowly, running my fingertips over smooth metal, nubby fabric, and sharp edges, and a low hum of power spread through me, bringing with it a sense of peace and warmth. I kept Mac’s ring in one hand as I counted and re-counted.

Thirty-eight. Thirty-eight little treasures. Thirty-eight pieces of other people’s lives that I’d nabbed and marked for my own. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t good.

But then again, maybe I wasn’t, either.

Chapter Fifteen

The next ten days flew by in a blur. Things with Mac had been stilted ever since I’d found out about him and Ella going to the dance. Or maybe since he asked me not to tell Libby anything about him. I couldn’t say which thing started it; all I knew was that the whole heart-to-heart in the closet and the whole talking while we lay side by side, staring at stars type deals were never repeated, and although the weird arcs of energy were still there between us, I felt like I’d lost a friend. Strange that someone who was in my life such a short time could make that kind of impact. I wish I knew how to get it back. Or where it had gone in the first place.

On the plus side, I was getting better with my power every day. Mac kept his promise, and the training was going well. I wasn’t feeling confident by any stretch, especially after what I’d read about the strict and often brutal ways of the Amaranthus, but I was trying my hardest and at that point, it was all I could do.

Still, it was all getting to me, and I’d deciding playing hooky from school today was my best bet. I was still wrecked from the day before when I saw Ella and Mac strolling down the hallway, his arm around her and her hand in his back pocket. I’d just managed to convince myself that tearing her arm off and beating her to death with it would be ill-advised when he walked into art class and had the nerve to bust my chops, calling my and Rafe’s papier-mâché giraffe a crime against art. I’d flipped him the bird, still too raw from the grab-ass I’d witnessed to even respond.

Prick.

If I hadn’t been close to tears, I would have ripped him a new one.

I stared at the ceiling that looked exactly the same as it had two hours ago when I’d started staring at it and groaned. Lying here alone with my thoughts was worse than being at school. Time for a distraction. I rolled to my feet and bent low to examine the pile of books. Libby and I had gotten through a lot of them, but there was still a stack high as my knee that we hadn’t even cracked open yet. I plucked the top one from the bunch and flopped back onto my bed with it. Maybe I’d find out something more about Mac and his kind, because at this point, I could only imagine that his true power was fucking with people’s heads.

I traced the scrollwork on the cover with my forefinger. It was one of the newer-looking volumes titled
Semis Through Time.
I skimmed through the first fifty pages, pausing to read about a
kardia
Apollo named Miles Davis who had changed the world of music and a
kardia
Jupiter who was none other than Abe Lincoln. It was fun reading, and I had just managed to distract myself from my own misery when I came across a chapter devoted entirely to
kardia
Aphrodite.

I started to read, my skin tingling with anticipation. Maybe our history wasn’t the most illustrious, but it couldn’t be all bad, and anything that could give me more insight into my kind had to be of some help.

The book was newer, maybe sixty years old, and the last entry was the one that really did me in. The first story was about a semi named Eva Braun. She was special in that she had immediate and meticulous control over her power. Apparently, seventeen-year-old Eva loved her newfound her ability from the second she’d gone through her change and decided that very day that, as part-god, it was her right to control the entire world.

If I was secretly hoping to prove to myself that Mac was wrong about my line, that particular tale didn’t seem like such a hot start. I considered skipping the rest, but something pushed me to keep reading, even though I could feel the dread building in my chest with every word.

Apparently, Eva’s plan took longer than expected, because being a woman back then made world domination a tricky proposition. In order to carry out her plans, she found a man with a core of evil and the same aspirations, and they worked together to create an army of hate. They took hundreds of thousands of soldiers and she systematically sucked the love and compassion from each and every one, making them into zombies prepared to do her bidding. Then, she bided her time, hiding in the background while plans were made and armies were formed.

By the time the Council finally made the connection between her and her lover, millions had already perished under their reign of terror. The Council captured the two of them, dispatched them both, and made it look like a double suicide.

And that was how Adolph Hitler and his secret love, Eva Braun,
really
died.

The words blurred before my eyes and my stomach lurched. Hitler. Fucking
Hitler
. Jesus Christ, no wonder Mac thought I was a monster. I buried my face in my hands and let all the emotion of the past few days pour out. Snotty, wrenching sobs wracked my body and I didn’t hold back. Was that what I’d been fighting for this whole time? A chance to keep my powers so that, when I turned seventeen, I could commit horrific acts of evil?

Maybe Mac was right. Maybe, up until now, there hadn’t been a good
kardia
Aphrodite. That didn’t mean there wasn’t one now. And it had taken a while, but I knew me, I knew my heart, and I knew for sure that, while I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t like
that
. Whatever that terrible woman in that book and the rest like her were. And if I was, or that was what I was turning into? Well, that just made me even more at peace with my decision to go to the Council with Mac.

Once I got back on the horse, I set that book aside and started reading through some others. I found that semis were an interesting group. Like Mac had said, no two were exactly alike, and powers changed within every family, with each generation. Maybe mine was destined to be the first good family from the line of Aphrodite. I was banking on it.

Still, armed with the knowledge of just how bad it could get, I spent the rest of my afternoon collecting loose pictures of my dad and putting them into albums with detailed captions. I had filled up three notebooks full of memories and stories my mom had told me about him. Not pessimism. Preparedness. If my powers were stripped and I lost my memories of him, I’d have these to remind me.

Once that was done, I slid them under my bed for safekeeping and made a mental note to leave myself clues of where they were before I went before the Council.

It had been an emotional day, but other people’s problems were a great distraction from my own, so I crabbed over to the corner of my bed and grabbed my laptop off the floor.

Dear She,

I think I’m in love. There’s this boy at school who makes my palms sweat every time I see him. He’s really funny and smart, and when he smiles at me, I feel like I’m going to barf. I want to tell him how I feel, but I’m terrified he’ll shoot me down. I’m not sure if I could take that because…well, he’s one of my best friends. If I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way, then it could ruin our friendship forever. Is there a way to find out if he likes me back without putting our friendship on the line?

Signed,

Scared of Rejection

Dear Scared,

First, I LOLed at the fact that this kid makes you want to barf every time you see him. In my book, that’s a pretty sure sign you’re crushing on someone hard (either that, or you’ve been accidentally timing your run-ins with him on Taco Day at the caf, blerg). At first, I was going to tell you to go for it. That’s the common wisdom, right? No risk, no reward? But as someone who values friendship a ton, I started second-guessing myself. You’re probably somewhere between fourteen and eighteen years old. What are the odds that, if you DO tell him you love him, he will say he loves you back (when he hasn’t tried to make out with you yet)? Now, factor in the odds that, if he DOES love you back, you guys will last a lifetime, get married, etc. Or even last a year. How many of your friends have had relationships that are able to stand the test of time? Now ask yourself that same question about a real and true friendship. To me, it’s not a case of no risk, no reward. It’s asking yourself if the risk is worth the reward. And I’m going to roll the dice here and bet that it isn’t. See if you still feel the same way about him this time next year and if you do, write me again and we can rethink it.