It won’t be easy. In my whole entire life, there’s only one person I’ve learned to trust without question. Kera. I squeeze her fingers and she squeezes back. Without her, I’d be lost. Since I’ve found my powers, instead of making things easier, my life has gotten far more complicated. I try not to, but I can’t stop the flicker of hope that Grandpa can help me. I give her a quick recap of what happened after she ran from me, and finish just as we push through the back gate and into the yard. Grandma continues into the house, but before Grandpa goes inside, he asks me, “You okay?”
“Mostly.”
He throws a look that warns me to settle down. Honestly, does he think I’m game for another round of Burn, Baby, Burn?
I hesitate at the top of the steps and pull Kera to a stop. “You ran off.”
She pulls her hand out of mine, and a shiver rakes her body. “You scared me.”
I scared myself.
“Yeah. That was obvious. I didn’t mean to, though.”
“Everything is different,” she says. “The magic that’s in us is not what I expected. It’s different. You playing with that fire… Magic should never be taken lightly. Whatever we do, there are consequences. You need to be careful. We need to be careful.”
She’s the one being careful. I’m being an idiot. I adapted quickly because the magic was always in me. Even borrowing the small bit from her dad couldn’t possibly compare to what she has now, yet she’s thinking ahead.
“You think I drew that thing to us because I got mad and lit up.”
She nods.
“So do I. But you can trust me, Kera. Deep down, I’m the same guy I’ve always been. Yeah, weird stuff is happening, and I’m adjusting as I go, but I will never hurt you.”
She nods, but it doesn’t hold any conviction.
I sigh, knowing I sound ridiculous. I tuck a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. “From here on out, things will be different. I promise.”
“I believe you, but change is never easy.” Her hand gently glides up my chest until her fingers curl against my cheek. “I should not have taken off like that. I’m sorry.”
The feel of her cool hand on my skin makes me sigh. I kiss her palm and pull her close. She cuddles against me. I stroke her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t do anything right,” she whispers and lifts her head. “I know I can trust you. I love you.”
Any willpower I might’ve had is gone. I kiss her, feel my chest tighten, and pull her closer. We’ve been through so much together, everyday problems to life-and-death situations. If I ever lost her, I’d die. Seeing her run away made me sick. Made me afraid. I never want to feel that way again. Whatever Grandpa has planned, I’ll do it. No questions asked. I’m desperate to be normal, to live without scaring Kera or myself or anyone else I care about into running off. I make it sound like it’s going to be easy, but I know it’ll be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I try to not think of the one fact that never changes. Even with my good intentions, my life always ends up on the wrong side of the tracks.
Always.
Scorched Black
It’s late afternoon. I wish I could say I’ve been able to suppress the firebug, but I haven’t. It rears its head at weird times, like when I go to get a snack out of the kitchen. No one is around and the urge strikes, and fire pops to life at the end of my fingertip. I quickly snuff it when someone comes near. I think Kera knows.
Grandma comes into the den, muttering about the smell of something burning in the bathroom. I shy away from her probing stare and decide right then and there I’d spend the rest of the day with Kera, working on being normal.
Her by my side, sitting on the couch watching Cartoon Network...how normal is that? I slant a quick glance at her and end up staring.
Nothing is normal about Kera. Not that she’s weird. She isn’t. Just the opposite. She’s amazing—in a girl-from-another-realm kind of way, sitting there in faded jeans and a fitted T-shirt, looking like every guy’s fantasy come to life.
Kera suddenly leans forward, her violet eyes bright and her mouth softly pursed. The commercial flashes a promise. No more teenage acne. Her head pivots toward mine, spilling her long, unbound dark hair against her knees. Her fingers probe her face. “That girl says I need Forever Clear.”
I lift my right eyebrow and shake my head. “You don’t have acne.”
“Blackheads?”
“Nope.”
She leans closer for my inspection. “Big pores? The girl in the rectangle says they are unsightly. I need her mud to make me beautiful.”
I make a show of really looking, then pull sharply away. “None.”
“Oh.” She turns back to the TV, a pout of disappointment shaping her lips.
Though I try not to, laughter rolls out. “What’s wrong? You should be happy about not having to slap a bunch of mud on your face.”
“But I want to put mud on my face. I want to erase my flaws,” she says and points to the TV, “like that girl does and all the other girls in this realm.”
“You want to be human?”
“I am human, at least part of me is, and I want to know that part.”
I get it now…like I wanted to know the first part of me. While I inherited a whole lot of trouble when my first half emerged, Kera’s human side is destined to be just as disappointed, although in a less heart-thumping manner. It ain’t all that great once the novelty of all our electronic gadgets and gizmos wears off.
I pop a kiss on her perfect nose. “Sorry, babe. You don’t have any flaws.” Well, maybe one. She refuses to take off the incordium dagger her friend gave her. Something about a promise she can’t break. At least I’ve got her tucking it out of sight.
She pushes against my arm and throws me an irritated glare before she turns back to the TV. She thinks I’m teasing, but I’m serious. She’s perfect.
“Everyone has flaws. I know this as fact.” Her voice takes on a mischievous tone. “I know your flaws.”
A small grunt escapes me. “You’re supposed to say I don’t have any, either.”
“That’s right,” she says with a smile. “I can speak all manner of untruths here and not get into trouble.”
I flash her a playful glance. Oh, she’s going down for that one.
Fast as a snap, I wrestle her into the far corner of the couch. With my body draped over hers, my fingers run up and down her sides, eliciting breathless giggles until she lets out a sharp scream. I cover her mouth with mine, muffling her laughter. All too quickly, the giggles subside, and the touch of our lips becomes a far more exciting kiss. I’ve never been able to resist kissing her, and now that we’re living in the same house, I’m finding it really hard to keep my hands and lips to myself.
“Dylan,” Grandma’s voice calls from the kitchen. “Get off that poor girl this minute and behave yourself.”
Can the woman see through walls?
I pull away, but not before I nibble and kiss Kera from ear to collarbone.
She pushes against my chest and rises, but I don’t let go of her arm even though she tries to pull away. Another tug and she looks pleadingly down at me. “Dylan, I should help your grandmother.”
Why is it so hard to let her go? She’s been in my head, in my dreams, for so long, I feel incomplete when she’s not nearby. My hand instinctively jerks her forward until she collapses onto my lap. She’s about to scold me when I deliver a sweet kiss, the kind that makes her smile and not want to leave. As she melts against me, her fingers weave into my hair, but I quickly pull her hands away and set her back on her feet. I wink at her confusion and say in an overly loud voice, “Stop it, Kera! Geesh! Keep your hands to yourself.”