I open the door wide and shuffle toward my name. It’s hard to see in here. Coats are heaped in the
corner and a shelf above my head forces me to squat.
Just as I grab for my journal, the door slams shut. I jerk around and feel for the handle.
My breath hitches and I start to feel dizzy. “Open, please, open.”
I bang on the door, again and again. I need to get out of here—
I shut my eyes as the walls start to tilt and implode, ready to crush me. Instead of trying to escape, I
fall onto my knees and frantically search the floor. If I can find a stone, the panic will ebb. The walls
will stop moving. I will be able to breathe.
I find nothing.
I sweep my hand over the carpet until I hit the pile of coats. I graze something hard and grab it.
It moves, and a slow chuckle follows. Coats shift and drop to the floor. Jace. I can tell it’s him by
his laugh. “Gotcha,” he says.
“You dickweed. Get me out of here,” I say through clenched teeth.
Jace laughs again and fiddles around with one of the coats. Click. A small beam of orange light
flickers on and highlights the smug look on Jace’s face. His fake vampire teeth glow.
I snatch the pen torch out of his hand and use it to light the door. “How do we get out of here?” The
panic is detectable in my voice but I don’t care.
“Can’t.”
I swing the torch back on Jace. He blinks and takes out his fake teeth.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“Can’t open it from this side.”
My breathing quickens again. “Get me out of here, Jace.”
He frowns and leans forward. “Jesus, Cooper. Are you flipping out or something?”
I can barely nod. I rub my sweaty hands together and blink hard to restore my vision, which seems
to be playing tricks on me. Is Jace coming closer? Closer? Bringing the walls with him? I slam my eyes
shut and press my hands against my forehead. It’s going to be fine. This is all in your head.
I hate Jace. I hate him for doing this to me.
“Th—this is payback for the soc—soccer ball thing?” I concentrate on my anger instead of
panicking.
He rests his hand firmly on my shoulder. “Cooper?” Jace’s breath hits my face but surprisingly it
doesn’t bother me. The smirk is gone from his voice and is replaced with concern. “Cooper, it’s only a
closet. I told my mate Darren to let us out in ten minutes.”
“Wh—why?”
Jace shifts on his knees and leans closer. His hand lifts from my shoulder and wraps around my
back. “Just concentrate on my voice, okay?”
“That’s the la—last thing I want to h—hear.”
He rubs my back. “Joking already. Knew it would work.”
The truth is, the calm tone of his voice is soothing me. One point for Jace.
“It was meant to give you a little scare,” he says softly, “not a huge one.”
“Come on. You—you’re going to piss yourself laughing about this later.”
Jace freezes, his body tight at my side. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”
“Wh—what else am I supposed to think if you shut me up in a closet?”
He doesn’t respond with words, but he rubs circles on my back like I might start purring and fall
asleep. “I’ve wanted to return your journal for months. I’ve been waiting for you to ask for it.”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I read it.”
“I thought so,” I say. “I’d have done the same.”
“So you want to be a geologist, huh?”
“Surprised?”
“Not really.” He chuckles. “It’s cool that you know what you want to be.”
It’s quiet for a long time, until Jace asks, “Do you really feel like you have to choose a side? Can’t
you be happy for both of them?”
A whoosh of air pushes Jace’s question away, and I scramble out of the closet. Darren grins at me.
After a few deep breaths, my sight clears and I recognize him as the big Maori fella who thinks he’s
getting lucky with my sister. He better not!
“You treat Annie with respect!” I say to him. I swing to Jace, who cannot look at me for long. I
want to say something about him treating me right, but the memory of blood running down his nose
stops me. “I guess we’re even.”
feldspar crystal
Annie slumps through the door and asks Dad where her room is. She doesn’t look at him, nor come
back when he returns from escorting her to safety. Today begins our first week with Dad, the Sunday
after Dad’s Halloween birthday.
Piano music loops and titters and darkens like grey clouds charging in for a summer storm.
I leave my bag in the entrance and follow Dad through the arched doorway into the dining room,
where the table is set with jams and maple syrup and a stack of thin, flat waffles that resemble the
pancake rocks in South Island.
“Your favorite,” he says, rubbing his hands like he did when I was a kid. I’m not about to yell
Yippee and lunge for the first waffle, but his effort lightens the heaviness in my belly. I sit across from
him and glance toward the patio doors. Outside, darkness swirls like a brewing storm. “Lila will be
down any moment.”
I nod and stuff my hand into my pocket, where I’m stashing a feldspar crystal Mum gifted me this
morning. Could she foresee my future? Why didn’t she give me this crystal sooner?
I rub the stone and stare at the doorway to the side of the kitchen, waiting for Lila to appear. Lila,
the love of my dad’s life. Lila, the one who tore my family apart.
For a second I think of ducking under the table and hiding, but I can’t avoid her forever.
Instead, I count the plates. It looks like Lila won’t be the only one joining us—
Dickweed.
He waltzes into the room with swagger, grinning at my Dad. When he sees me, his step falters but
he quickly regains control. A hurried nod before he focuses on the table. The plates, the jam, the
waffles, the vase of roses, the doilies.
He’s going to play the game like this? Avoid me? Pretend nothing happened at Halloween?
“Looks de-lish,” Jace says, skimming over me to Dad. “But I’m not hungry, so can I—”
Dad narrows his eyes into the familiar stay right where you are look.
The wind crumples Jace’s sails; he sags into his seat and picks at the cushion.
“I want this to be a civilized morning,” Dad says, pouring a carafe of orange juice. He continues
quietly. “Be good to Lila, please.”
As if his words started a countdown, Lila barges through the door not ten seconds later.
Spooky. Not as broad in the shoulders and not as tall, but the dark brown hair is his, and the blue
eyes, and the straight nose that points up slightly at the end. She looks like she could be Jace’s twin.
She smiles Jace’s smile.
“Cooper,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She kisses my cheek and ruffles my hair. She smells
like potpourri.
Dad winces and holds his breath. I don’t want to say anything nice or pretend I’m happy with this
situation, but Jace is watching me, and even after what he did to me on Halloween, I can’t simply grunt
and play a moody thirteen year old.
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “Thanks for the waffles. They’re my fave.”
Dad passes me the pancake rocks replica, a proud smile on his face. For that look, my choice to
swallow my anger was worth the sacrifice.
The rest of breakfast involves Lila firing questions at me and dad sharing embarrassing stories. Jace
listens quietly, frowning at me every few seconds. When we’re all finished eating, Lila begins cleaning
up with Jace. Again, I’m stunned at their resemblance.
Dad clicks his fingers in front of my eyes and I focus on what he’s saying. “Shall I show you your
room?”
He leads me up a white-banister staircase that splits off in two directions. We take the left turn.