Dad frowns. “Fans and the other riders flock to him, sure. But I’ve never seen him interacting with them like they’re his friends.”
“Well, yeah, but…” How exactly do I explain the school hierarchy starts and stops with James. He’s on a pedestal. The best grades. The best athlete. The best crafter. All that best creates respect.
Yet I can’t finish the thought. James really doesn’t talk to anyone, does he? That does sound kind of lonely. All that popularity without saying a word. I thought it was an art of deception. Now, I’m not so sure.
I shake the thought away. Next thing you know, I’ll feel half-bad for the guy. And ten minutes ago, when I did that I proceeded to trip into his arms and…
Mom silences us both. “What I need to know is whether he’s like John or not.”
“No,” Dad says. “A victim of John Murphy’s wrath. But I don’t see that in his boy.”
A victim?As my parents share an unspoken look, I forfeit any attempt to press for more information. They’ve always been like this. I think having me so late in life, after so many miscarriages, made them united in a way I can’t crack.You missed all the hardships, Mom will say as she hugs me. But I don’t think that’s right. I think they just hold their hardships close to their chests and then taught me to do the same.
“Farren? What do you think?” I love my mom for desiring my opinion.But what exactly is my opinion? And would I really let them know my true thoughts? With everything going on with our family the past year I’ve kept even more of the negative stuff tucked inside. Gotten too good at pretending. But I could tell them of the rivalry, how he’s out to steal my scholarship, or even how mean he is, howworthlessstill stings if I let the word roll around too long in my mind.
A victim of John Murphy’s wrath…
“He’s… I guess I don’t know.”
Mom nods. “Our objective will be to make sure he never suspects. Never sees us descend or ascend the cliffs. We’ll have to wake up early to check on her.”
“No, at night. James wakes up early,” I counter.
“Earlier than us?” One of Mom’s sharp eyebrows rise.
I sigh. My parents really don’t know who they have let live with us. James isn’t a normal teenage boy. He’s a sleepless mutant known at school for always being the first one there, training before the first bell. I train before the bell too but I can never get there before him. Once, I arrived two hours early and he had still beaten me, a lone figure crafting and shooting strips of metal at targets. “Yes. Earlier than us.”
“First and foremost, we need to set some ground rules.” Dad rubs his chin. “The first being James can’t go anywhere near the cliffs.”
Mom squares off. “Then first and foremost someone needs to go talk to him and explain that without arousing suspicion or worse, curiosity.”
“Not it,” I rush, petrified of seeing James anytime soon. In fact, maybe I could try avoiding him for the next three months? Maybe that would work.
“I’ll go.” Dad starts for the door but stops and turns before he leaves. “Farren, James is simply a boy, your same age. He’s not scarier than any dragon you’ve cared for.”
I refuse to answer. Something in my gut tells me Dad’s wrong. James has become the most terrifying creature on this sanctuary.
CHAPTER SIXWHEN YOU’RE WELCOMED AND WARNED
JAMES
Ineed to be alone a long while after my encounter with Farren on the stairs. After she said she would make me fall for her, I fought back the only way I could—calling her bluff. Thank god she only scoffed and left me outside the loft’s door. Because if she had also called that bluff? If she flirts with me in any capacity like on those stairs? I’m a goner for sure. I truly don’t know if my heart can take it. Maybe I should be grateful she made her kick-me-out plans clear, so I won’t fall for them. Because I would. I’d be skeptical at first, sure, but I think hope would win out. Even now my imagination conjures up all sorts of scenarios and I have to sit down.
I focus on what’s in front of me.
The room is nice, more than nice. It feels like a home. Well, not my home, but how a home should be. Cozy. No holes in the walls.
Covered in exposed wood rafters, the place has its own kitchenette, a bathroom, and even a living room space. Basically, a small apartment, exactly how I dreamed my dorm at Revers Academy would look. The smell of dragons and hay wafting into the room.
I unbuckle my trunk on the ground, actually looking forward tounpacking. I can’t believe I got away with this. That I get to live here free of my parents for the next few months. No screaming. No fights.
There’s a knock on the door and I inhale, preparing myself for Farren again. She’s come back with more ways to undo me.
Instead, her dad steps in with a smile. “How are you settling in?”
I lurch from the floor to greet him, but Dr. Walsh waves a hand. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about me.”
I pull out a shirt and place it on the bed, but it feels odd unpacking as Dr. Walsh examines the loft. So, I keep watch on him for when he might change his mind, want something of me. He’s such a slim wispy man, nothing like my father. Even his mannerisms, the way he paces lightly, seem to convey a different way of life. Quiet. Unassuming.Peaceful.
