Sweet Shadows
Page 48
“You’re worried about something,” he says, pushing his empty plate aside and leaning forward over the table. “Want to talk about it?”
Oh how I wish I could. I think I would feel so much better if I could just blurt out, I’m a monster-hunting descendant of Medusa and my sister has gone missing in the abyss! My relief would last only half a second, though. Milo would think I’m insane, that I deserve to be dropped off at the nearest nut-house, never to be seen—or dated—again.
It’s funny how, just a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was going nuts. Some days I wish I was.
“No,” I say, forcing a smile. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
I pick up my fork and lift a bite of crepe to my mouth.
“Are you worried about Thane?” he asks. “He’s been gone almost a week.”
There’s that too.
I haven’t had much time to worry about Thane, what with my immortal ancestor getting kidnapped and my sister disappearing into another realm, but I know he can take care of himself. Gretchen can too, but Thane’s not fighting monsters in the abyss. He’s somewhere he can still text Mom every day so she doesn’t get suspicious. He’ll come back to me whole, and hopefully happy. I’m not even sure how Gretchen will make it back at all.
“Yeah, I am,” I say, because that’s something easy to talk about. “I miss him.”
I could really use my big brother right now, even if I can’t tell him what’s really going on. I could use his strong shoulder to lean on.
“Have you heard from him?”
“He’s texted me a couple of times.” I flip open the crepe with my fork and swirl it through the peanut-butter-and-jelly filling. “He texts Mom every night. She’s starting to get almost worried, but I’m doing what I can to keep her from suspecting anything.”
Milo picks up his paper placemat and folds it in half. “You don’t have any idea where he went? Is it somewhere in the city?”
“I honestly don’t know.” I watch as he folds and refolds the paper. “He might have gone back to our old hometown for all I know.”
The folds start to take shape, and I can tell Milo is making some kind of origami object.
“It’s nice that you worry about Thane,” he says. “Growing up, my sisters would have loved for me to disappear for a few days. They’d have divvied up my bathroom time like jackals.”
I can’t help a laugh. Maybe it’s a pressure release, but I’m picturing three girls—with dark curls like Milo’s—fighting over his precious time in the bathroom, and it just cracks me up. Milo starts laughing too, like it’s contagious. I’m grateful for the light moment.
“One time,” he says between laughs, “Maura snuck into my room and changed my alarm so she could have an extra fifteen minutes before school.”
“They sound ruthless,” I say. “Thane hardly uses the bathroom enough to count. He showers and brushes his teeth. Ten minutes max.” I glance down self-consciously at my jeans and tee and borrowed cardigan, acutely aware that my hair is in a ponytail and that if Greer hadn’t intervened, my face would be totally bare. “Besides, you can probably tell I’m not much of a primper.”
He shrugs, focusing on his origami folds. “You don’t need primping.”
My cheeks burn and I feel the compliment all over.
I mumble a quiet “Thanks” and we fall into a gentle silence, listening to the sounds of paper folding and the other diners chatting. His fingers move fast and light, folding here, tucking there. Then, with a quick pull, the mess of folds pops up into the shape of a unicorn.
“Wow!” I say, truly in awe of his skill. “That’s amazing.”
He pushes the unicorn across the table toward me. “It’s no big deal.”
“Where did you learn to do that?” I ask. I pick up the unicorn and study it, turning it around and over to see where the paper folds go.
“I was in a Japanese immersion kindergarten.”
“You speak Japanese?”
“Uh, no,” he says with a laugh. “The origami stuck. The language didn’t.”
“Well still,” I say, setting the unicorn on the table between us. “It’s pretty awesome.”
“Then I should probably ask you out again,” he says, giving me a quirky grin, “while you’re so impressed.”
I blush again.
“How about tomorrow after my soccer practice?” he suggests. “We could go for pizza.”
Tomorrow feels a long way away. Who knows what will have gone crazy—crazier—in my life by then.
But if I’ve realized anything in the last hour, it’s that Greer was right. This break was just what I needed to rejuvenate my energy. I feel refreshed and ready to hit the streets to find an oracle again.
Besides, Greer will be in her tea meeting until at least early afternoon. I might as well get a little more refresh time with Milo.
“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” I say. “It’s a date.”
Sitting on the bleachers above Milo’s soccer field, I hope the bright afternoon sunshine can burn away my despair. Three full days since Gretchen dived into the abyss, three days of searching the city with Greer, three nights of running my archives search and scouring the internet for anything—anything—that might help. And what do I have to show for my efforts?
Oh how I wish I could. I think I would feel so much better if I could just blurt out, I’m a monster-hunting descendant of Medusa and my sister has gone missing in the abyss! My relief would last only half a second, though. Milo would think I’m insane, that I deserve to be dropped off at the nearest nut-house, never to be seen—or dated—again.
It’s funny how, just a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was going nuts. Some days I wish I was.
“No,” I say, forcing a smile. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
I pick up my fork and lift a bite of crepe to my mouth.
“Are you worried about Thane?” he asks. “He’s been gone almost a week.”
There’s that too.
I haven’t had much time to worry about Thane, what with my immortal ancestor getting kidnapped and my sister disappearing into another realm, but I know he can take care of himself. Gretchen can too, but Thane’s not fighting monsters in the abyss. He’s somewhere he can still text Mom every day so she doesn’t get suspicious. He’ll come back to me whole, and hopefully happy. I’m not even sure how Gretchen will make it back at all.
“Yeah, I am,” I say, because that’s something easy to talk about. “I miss him.”
I could really use my big brother right now, even if I can’t tell him what’s really going on. I could use his strong shoulder to lean on.
“Have you heard from him?”
“He’s texted me a couple of times.” I flip open the crepe with my fork and swirl it through the peanut-butter-and-jelly filling. “He texts Mom every night. She’s starting to get almost worried, but I’m doing what I can to keep her from suspecting anything.”
Milo picks up his paper placemat and folds it in half. “You don’t have any idea where he went? Is it somewhere in the city?”
“I honestly don’t know.” I watch as he folds and refolds the paper. “He might have gone back to our old hometown for all I know.”
The folds start to take shape, and I can tell Milo is making some kind of origami object.
“It’s nice that you worry about Thane,” he says. “Growing up, my sisters would have loved for me to disappear for a few days. They’d have divvied up my bathroom time like jackals.”
I can’t help a laugh. Maybe it’s a pressure release, but I’m picturing three girls—with dark curls like Milo’s—fighting over his precious time in the bathroom, and it just cracks me up. Milo starts laughing too, like it’s contagious. I’m grateful for the light moment.
“One time,” he says between laughs, “Maura snuck into my room and changed my alarm so she could have an extra fifteen minutes before school.”
“They sound ruthless,” I say. “Thane hardly uses the bathroom enough to count. He showers and brushes his teeth. Ten minutes max.” I glance down self-consciously at my jeans and tee and borrowed cardigan, acutely aware that my hair is in a ponytail and that if Greer hadn’t intervened, my face would be totally bare. “Besides, you can probably tell I’m not much of a primper.”
He shrugs, focusing on his origami folds. “You don’t need primping.”
My cheeks burn and I feel the compliment all over.
I mumble a quiet “Thanks” and we fall into a gentle silence, listening to the sounds of paper folding and the other diners chatting. His fingers move fast and light, folding here, tucking there. Then, with a quick pull, the mess of folds pops up into the shape of a unicorn.
“Wow!” I say, truly in awe of his skill. “That’s amazing.”
He pushes the unicorn across the table toward me. “It’s no big deal.”
“Where did you learn to do that?” I ask. I pick up the unicorn and study it, turning it around and over to see where the paper folds go.
“I was in a Japanese immersion kindergarten.”
“You speak Japanese?”
“Uh, no,” he says with a laugh. “The origami stuck. The language didn’t.”
“Well still,” I say, setting the unicorn on the table between us. “It’s pretty awesome.”
“Then I should probably ask you out again,” he says, giving me a quirky grin, “while you’re so impressed.”
I blush again.
“How about tomorrow after my soccer practice?” he suggests. “We could go for pizza.”
Tomorrow feels a long way away. Who knows what will have gone crazy—crazier—in my life by then.
But if I’ve realized anything in the last hour, it’s that Greer was right. This break was just what I needed to rejuvenate my energy. I feel refreshed and ready to hit the streets to find an oracle again.
Besides, Greer will be in her tea meeting until at least early afternoon. I might as well get a little more refresh time with Milo.
“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” I say. “It’s a date.”
Sitting on the bleachers above Milo’s soccer field, I hope the bright afternoon sunshine can burn away my despair. Three full days since Gretchen dived into the abyss, three days of searching the city with Greer, three nights of running my archives search and scouring the internet for anything—anything—that might help. And what do I have to show for my efforts?
