“Because our grandmother died that way. So did our Aunt Claire, and she was only eight years old. Plus, Dr. Peltier’s test confirms it. I’ll probably die before I even graduate.” I took a deep breath. “You think these abilities are so great? Take ‘em. ’Cause I’m going to die early. You’re going to graduate. You’re going to get the chance to get married, have a family. Fuck. You’re going to get to grow old.” Tears fell down my face as my heart filled with envy and pain with every word. “While you get to do all of that, I’ll be six feet under. As worm food.” I shook my head and wiped my face. “You’ll get to live. You got fucking lucky, Tara. So stop acting like a little brat who isn’t getting what she wants.” I wiped my face, resisting the urge to hit her. “Now, get the fuck out of my room.”
Tara eyed me before walking out the door. I slammed it closed behind her. I sat down on my futon as tears continued to fall. Hades moved his head into my lap. I stroked his ears as it hit me.
I was in love with them. All of them. Miles, Asher, Ethan, Zeke, Isaac… all of them. And I couldn’t have any of them. I was going to die early, and I wasn’t about to drag one of them down with me. Tears fell as I cried into Hades’ fur.
Ethan
Around four in the afternoon, I was in my room tuning my guitar when the front door opened.
"I'm here!" Lexie shouted from downstairs.
"Be down in a sec!" I called back as I got up and put my acoustic guitar back on its stand. I picked up the sheet music off my dresser and hurried down the stairs. When she looked up I slowed on the steps. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around her eyes pink. My heart sank. "Beautiful?"
She gave me a forced smile. "So, what are we doing?"
Oh, fuck that. I stepped off the stairs and crossed the room to stand in front of her. "Why do you look like you've been crying?"
She shrugged. "Oh, it's just allergies. Been sneezing all day. I think the antihistamines finally kicked in."
"Are you sure?" I asked, running my eyes over her. It could be allergies... I'd had them pretty bad a few weeks ago.
"Yeah, something is just blooming." She gestured to the music in my hands. "What's that?"
I held up the sheet music, deciding to let it go, though not sure if I should. "Yeah, I thought it'd be a good time to teach you the piano."
She grinned. "You are just determined to teach me how to play an instrument."
"Yep." I took her arm, led her over to the piano and patted the bench. "Sit." I lifted the key cover and sat down on one side of the bench. She sighed before sitting next to me, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Okay, first, the keys." I set one finger on middle C. “This”—I pressed the key several times so she could hear the note—“is middle C. When playing the piano, middle C is where you want to start, at least until you get the hang of it. Give me your right hand." She held her hand out to me palm up. I turned her hand over and placed her thumb on middle C. "Now, your thumb is on middle C..."
I began to run her through the notes slowly. She chewed the bottom corner of her lip as she learned the notes. Her eyes focused completely on the keys, blocking everything else out like she did when she was doing homework. I had spent enough time watching her when I was supposed to be doing my own homework. When she concentrated like this, she picked things up quickly.
It wasn't long before I began giving her a melody to follow by simply saying a finger number. Soon she was playing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ When she ran through the melody twice without making a mistake she threw an arm up.
"Yes!" she exclaimed before she looked up at me. Her eyes were clear and happy, her face glowing. My heart skipped a beat as she met my eyes. Rosemary filled my lungs. She was right there, her body heat warming my side. My eyes traveled over her face, the sweep of her lashes, to the curve of her cheek and down to those lips.
"So, that's all it is?" she asked, reminding me what we were doing.
I tore my eyes from her and back to the music. "Um, yeah. That's the basics. Eventually, you'll learn chords and how to use both hands at the same time."
"Play something?" she asked in a quiet voice. I turned back to her and went still. She was looking up at me from under her lashes with a small grin. My will disappeared with that look. I met her eyes and a song came to me.
I turned to the back to the piano and placed my fingers on the keys. I began the first notes of ‘By Your Side’ by Lifehouse. I focused on the music and tried not to worry if I was showing my cards or not.
As I played the last notes, she leaned her head against my shoulder. When I was done I looked down at her. She had a sweet, serene look on her face.
"Again?" she whispered. That nagging feeling that something was wrong was back. I wanted to ask, but... if she wanted to talk about it she would. So I did the only thing I could. I played for her. One song flowed into another, and another. There was nothing else in the world but us and the music.
Asher
I opened the front door, looking forward to relaxing after work. Dinner. What was defrosted in the fridge?
Cursing caught my attention. I moved from the doorway and into the living room just in time to watch Dad take down a picture of Mom. Anger rolled through me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He turned and put the picture frame in a box. “Taking these down, again.”
“Why?” I snapped.
Dad pulled down the last photo in the living room, picked up the box and turned around. “Because, there’s no point in reminding everyone she’s gone,” he snapped before moving into the foyer and starting on those pictures.
“It’s not a reminder,” I told him. “It’s to remember the good times we had with her.” Dad kept taking down pictures. I walked up behind him. “It’s wrong to erase her from the house as if she never lived.” He slowed. “She was our mother. Why shouldn’t we have photos of her up?”
He turned around and glared at me. “Because it’s my house and I don’t want them up.” He moved past me, bumping my shoulder. I turned to watch him put the box on the foyer table. He picked up Mom’s flag.
“Where the hell did this come from?” he snapped.
“Ally had it made at Christmas,” I said, my voice quiet.
He scowled, then used the case to point at me. “I told you I would get one when the time was right.”
“When is the time going to be right? You’ve had more than two years,” I pointed out. He shook his head and flipped the box around. His fingers moved to the latches. No!
I snatched the box out of his hands before he could open it. “What the hell is the matter with you?” I shouted. “Someone did something nice for Mom, something you never did, and you get pissed about it?”
He turned on me, fire burning in his eyes. “It’s this girl, isn’t it? That’s where you got the idea you don’t want to play football.” I looked at him like he was insane. Was he kidding?
He shook his head. “You can’t hang out with her anymore. She’s a bad influence.”
That was it. “She’s a good person who actually listens to me.”
He scowled at me. “As long as you live under my roof—”
“Well, it’s a damn good thing I have options,” I snapped. “I’m out until you’re gone. It shouldn’t be long, three or four days. Max.”
I moved past him and went back upstairs, taking Mom’s flag with me. I quickly packed a duffle and carefully put the flag in with my stuff. I headed downstairs and shouldered past him on my way out the door.
He was yelling at me from the porch as I pulled away from the curb, still seething.
Lexie
I parked the Blazer in front of Miles’ house, on the circular driveway. The three-story gray stone mansion was covered in green ivy now. It looked pretty in the summer.
I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Ethan was asking if I was okay. So was Zeke. If I wasn’t careful they’d call a family meeting and ask to know what was going on. I looked at the red truck. Huh, Asher’s here.
Grumbling, I got out and let Hades jump down to the gravel. I needed those research books. I shut the door and headed inside. Was that… was that pizza? I closed the front door behind me.
“I’m here!” I shouted, as much as I could.
“Kitchen!” Miles called.
Hades took off for the smell of food; I followed at a less hungry pace. Sure enough, on the counter were two pizza boxes. That wasn’t right.
“Where’s Asher?” I asked as I stepped up to the counter. “I saw his truck outside.”
“Asher is upstairs in his room,” Miles informed me as he put his dish in the sink.