Page 2 of Facade

The constant rejections were depressing. Clarke had begun working on her doctorate, taking evening and online classes. That might not be good enough for the Institute either, though. She had a psychic ability, but it was low-ranked due to her inability to control it.

“So, if you could get your own classroom, you might enjoy teaching,” her dad said.

“I think I would,” Clarke said. “Clearly, I need to explore my options. It’s time to give up on the institute. But none of the local high schools have a position open.”

Clarke fought the acute sense of failure that accompanied her statement. She had relentlessly pursued her goals, but persistence wasn’t always rewarded. It was time to consider other careers.

One of the most frustrating aspects was that she wanted to use one of her powers professionally, or at least regularly, rather than ignoring them. Clarke helped her dad and Harry at the shop before she started teaching and around her class schedule. That was their dream, though, not hers. Clarke had no interest in running the store with them, or taking over when they retired.

Neither the military nor law enforcement were appealing to her. Her strongest power had plenty of practical uses, but not many professional ones. Teaching did not exercise either of her powers.

Her educational courses were geared toward young adults. Clarke also preferred working with older kids. Her primary field of study was on mental and physical powers with an emphasis on psychic powers.

Public high schools covered the meteor bombardment of 2073 that killed millions of people, and resulted in the evolution of humans. It was part of the mandatory curriculum. But they did not train evolved humans how to use their abilities.

There were private schools, some that were exclusive to the evolved. But most of them also focused on academics rather than training students in the use of their powers. While the majority of evolved citizens manifested an ability by age sixteen, there was no hard and fast rule. Most classes that educated students on the use of their individual powers were offered at colleges and universities.

“Honey, I would never tell you to give up on your dream, but there are other paths that might be equally fulfilling. As far as I’m concerned, anyone dumb enough to reject you doesn’t deserve you. It’s their loss,” her dad said with firm conviction. “If you enjoy teaching, that could be very rewarding. When you get your PHD, you can apply at a university.”

“True. By the time I have my doctorate, I should know if I want to teach long-term,” Clarke said thoughtfully. “Summer school is almost over, and I’ll have time to think about it.”

“Good. I just want you to be happy,” her dad said. “Now, what are you planning to do when you have the house to yourself? If you have an orgy, just make sure there’s no evidence. My daughter’s sex life is on top of the list of things I don’t want to be confronted with. I’m still pretending that you’re a virgin.”

Clarke laughed at that. He wasn’t really that squeamish. “Damn, I’ll have to cancel with the football team, or tell them we need to find another place,” she joked. “Seriously, though, the actual plans are much more tame. Girl time with Hannah, housework, maybe some shopping.”

Her dad went on a fishing trip that he called a sabbatical with his buddies every summer. They had a cabin by a lake. It had been a tradition for over ten years.

“You’ll walk Slob every day?” Charlie asked. “We can’t have him getting fat and lazy.”

He had decided not to take Slob fishing until he was a bit older. Clarke knew that he also didn’t want her to be alone. While the dog was more a lover than a fighter, his size was intimidating to a lot of people.

“At least once a day, I promise,” Clarke said.

She enjoyed running, and often took Slob with her anyway. It was good exercise for both of them.

Her dad’s friends had started the fishing trips six months after her mother died. They wanted him to have a space to vent his grief without feeling the need to be strong for her. Clarke had also needed that. The trips were beneficial for both of them.

Thirteen years later, neither of them required emotional distance. They both still felt the loss, but it was an old wound. Now the fishing trips were pleasant vacations.

Over the next couple of days around her classes, Clarke helped her dad pack for the trip, and made plans with Hannah for the weekend. She saw him off with hugs and orders to drive safe.

“I love you, Clarke. Call Harry if you need anything,” her dad said.

“I love you, too, Dad. Have fun.”

As usual, her dad texted when he arrived at the cabin, and messaged every day that he loved her. He sent pictures of fish he caught and wildlife in the area. Clarke was glad that he was having a good time.

Since neither of them were dating currently, Clarke spent most of her evenings with Hannah, who’d been her best friend from the age of ten. She tried to put the rejection letter out of her mind, and clear her head.

Hannah knew her well enough not to talk about the Psionic Institute or alternative career options without needing to be asked. They watched movies, played board games, and ate ice cream. Twice, she and Hannah went out for dinner and drinks at a place that had live music. It was fun, and relaxing.

By the end of the week, Clarke felt like she was in a better mental place. She could think about different professions without feeling like a failure.

Her dad texted when he was on his way home. Clarke tidied the house and started making dinner an hour before she expected him. But he didn’t come back.

His phone went straight to voicemail when she called. Clarke knew deep down that something was wrong. Her dad would have notified her if he had been delayed by anything. He would never let her panic for no reason.

His friends were as upset as she was when Clarke called and told them that he wasn’t home yet. They said Charlie had his phone when he left, and had accounted for stops on the way, as far as calculating when he would be home. He didn’t answer messages or calls from them either.