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“Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.” It was too dark to see her face, but I could tell from the sound of her voice that she was smiling.
I lay in the dark listening to the sounds of the dying party. I had been excited about the move, but now I was seriously pumped. Cousins with gifts? This could change everything. But why hadn’t Mom contacted them before? What was different now?
The more I thought about it the more questions I had. And not only about my cousins, but about St. Ailbe’s. And those wolf-dog things. And that guy.
Mostly about that guy.
Chapter Three
I rested my head against the window as my father drove. We were almost to our new home. After all the build up, the next chapter in my life was just around the bend, and the anxiety of meeting it head-on had my knees bouncing.
At least Axel wasn’t in the car with us. He and Mom were following us in his Jetta. We’d switched on the last stop so that Axel could eat his grotesque snack of choice. He was more than annoying when he didn’t get his way. Dad and I had much more acceptable munchies in the form of M&M’s and Cheetos in his Lexus SUV.
Neither car was fully packed with stuff. The moving van would come later today, and Mom’s car was getting shipped here from LA. She didn’t want anyone riding alone, just in case we got separated. I was still hoping now that Axel was taking off, a car for me would show up. It’d be nice not to have my parents drop me off on the first day of my senior year.
I grabbed for some snacks, more for a distraction than because I was hungry. I was trying to think positively about the chances of pulling off the whole “normal” thing at my new school, but the closer it got, the more my confidence waned. “Want any?” I held the open bag of Cheetos to Dad.
“I better not. Those things are like crack. Once you start, you’ll never stop.”
I fake gasped. “Dad! You’ve done crack?”
He laughed.
“But seriously. You dare turn down day-glow cheese?”
“Hey, I’m trying to undo the damage I did to myself when I was your age.” He patted his stomach, which was mostly flat. He turned a corner into a gated complex. Although the word “complex” was a stretch. The gate opened onto a dirt road. Vegetation on either side threatened to swallow it.
“What’s the code again?” Dad asked.
“Eighteen thirty-six.” I scratched my head. “That sounds like a date.”
He leaned out of the window to punch in the code. “Yup. Year of the battle of the Alamo. Welcome to Texas, princess.” Leave it to Dad, the history buff, to know the answer.
Dad clicked his seatbelt back into place, and we drove down the bumpy road. I checked the directions from Dad’s new boss again. “Says here that we’re the ninth driveway. If we get to the fork, then we’ve gone too far.”
Dad grunted. “Well, we’re definitely in for a change here.”
“You could say that.” It seemed like these tiny driveways were more like trails in a national park. I couldn’t see any houses, and the “driveways” were really spread out.
When we reached the fifth, Dad cleared his throat. “So the head of St. Ailbe’s is meeting us at the house with the keys. I, uh, just…” Dad trailed off.
“What?”
He sighed. “Try not to touch anything or have any visions in front of him. I didn’t exactly say anything about—”
“Dad. Seriously. It’s not a big deal. I would rather not have one either, but in the event that I do, I’ll try to hide it. Cool?”
He patted my jean-clad leg. “Thanks, princess.”
“That’s nine.” I pointed to the driveway. It curved down a hill and finally opened up to a beautifully manicured lawn. A circular drive with a giant oak tree in the middle led up to the pale yellow stucco house. Butterflies filled my stomach as we stopped in front. It wasn’t as big as our house in LA, but almost. The white wrap-around porch drew my attention, especially the bench swing to the left of the front door. Off to the right was a white two-car garage.
Dad parked in front of the garage to leave the drive open, and Axel pulled up beside us. I slipped down from the SUV and pulled a pair of thin tie-dyed gloves from my pocket.
Mom hopped out of Axel’s car and put her arm around me. “How was the last of the drive?”
“Fine. But you still smell like chicharones.” I made a face. She tried to smother my face with kisses, but I pushed her away. “Nasty!”
