Chapter Ten
It shouldn’t have taken us more than an hour and a half to drive up to the cabin, but between the three cars and thirteen people, we had to stop practically every twenty minutes for either food, gas, or bathroom breaks. I had no idea what small bladders everyone had until I was forced into a road trip with them.
It’s called holding it, people!
The one positive thing about the drive was that it allowed us all to leave the horror behind us to an extent. We began to think more about what we were heading to, instead of what we’d lost. Our parents weren’t far from our thoughts, but the trip was a good distraction for everyone.
By the time we arrived at our destination I was so happy that we wouldn’t be making any more stops that I nearly jumped out of the car before I’d even pulled the emergency brake, and kissed the dirty ground we’d been driving on. Of course, I didn’t actually do that—I mean, what sort of message would that send to the rest of the coven?
No one respects dirt kissers.
Instead, I rolled down the windows and took in the fresh air that came along with being at this altitude. And then I saw our refuge. The cabin was smaller than I remembered it. But that was to be expected, I suppose, since the last time I’d been there I was still a kid. And everything looks huge when you’re only four feet tall. Still, even though it wasn’t exactly the mansion I’d been picturing on our way up here, it wasn’t small by anyone’s standards. Good thing, too, because we were about to have a full house.
I pulled the car up to the garage but didn’t have the remote to open the door, so I parked right there, turning off the engine and enjoying the relative silence. I didn’t bother waiting for everyone else before getting out of the car, and threw my arms over my head to stretch after such a long and painful drive.
There were only so many road trip games a person could take before freaking out, and apparently I was horribly slow when it came to identifying VW bugs. That, coupled with the fact that I wasn’t exactly in a game-playing kind of mood, and I was pretty sure I would never be playing slug bug again.
But even that couldn’t spoil my mood now that I was here. The air was crisp, but not cold, and I felt like I could just breathe easier. Lord knows we were all going to need a little bit of fresh air over the next couple of days. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about my parents, as I looked around at the place where I’d spent most of my childhood summers.
Over to my right, just behind the garage, was the shed that one summer, I’d insisted was my own mini-cabin. I’d somehow managed to convince my parents to let me clean out the storage space (and by clean out, I mean that I took all my dad’s tools and piled them up in the garage next to the cars) and made the area into my own personal getaway. Armed with an old cot, my comforter and pillows, my entire stash of stuffed animals, a few picture frames, a stack of magazines, a handful of books, and my battery-operated CD player, I decorated my new place in true tweenage fashion.
I bragged for hours about how I was going to spend the rest of my summer in the practically windowless shed and how amazing it was to finally have a house all to myself. It didn’t even cross my mind that a place as small as that was nothing to be proud of. Yet after I officially moved in, I posted a sign that asked visitors to please “knock before entering” (which, let’s face it, just meant my parents) and then spent the next couple of hours listening to CDs, reading magazines, and lounging on my new bed.
As the lights outside began to dim and the shed got steadily darker, I got my first inkling that Operation Freedom might not be as perfect a plan as I’d thought. For one, at the rate the sun was setting, I’d be heading to bed a few hours earlier than my regular bedtime, simply because I didn’t have electricity in the shed and hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight with me. And there was also the fact that I’d left my secret stash of Pop-Tarts and Funyuns up in my old room. Finally, when my bladder started to fill up, I knew that my fantasy of having my own place at the age of nine was over. No way was I peeing in the woods just to get a little privacy.
And so I’d thrown all my stuff into the middle of my comforter and dragged it back to the house. They never said it, but I think my parents had always known I’d end up back home, and that’s why they hadn’t fought me when I’d “moved out.” It used to annoy the hell out of me that they’d always seemed to be one step ahead of me.
Now I would have welcomed a fight with them if it meant having them around again.
My smile faded and I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my cashmere pants. I’d seen a model wearing them in Cosmo a few weeks back and thought they managed to look dressy while still being incredibly comfortable. Besides, they made my ass look great. Not that I was trying to impress anyone here. But I was a firm believer that dressing nice when you felt like crap did wonders for your self-esteem. As Blair Waldorf would say, “Just because you feel like shit, doesn’t mean you have to look like shit.”
“Hadley, your cabin is freaking incredible,” Sascha said, passing me and walking toward the summer home to get a closer look.
“Yeah,” added Fallon. “The place is a chick magnet.”
“You do realize that you’d have to get the girls to actually agree to go anywhere with you first, Fallon?” I asked.
He stopped scoping out the grounds long enough to look back and glare at me.
Whoops. So much for our cease-fire.
“It really is amazing,” Jinx said, talking just loudly enough for me to hear, which didn’t take much effort since she’d managed to sneak up behind me while I’d been daydreaming about my short-lived stint in the shed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” I agreed. Too bad everything in this place reminded me of my parents and the fact that I wouldn’t be making any more memories with them. My face fell as I fought the direction my mind was heading.
Shaking my head as if to clear it, I looked at the others and then forced a smile. “Let’s grab the stuff and get inside,” I said, making myself think about what we were here to do and not the circumstances behind the fact.
I went to the car to retrieve my duffel bag full of essentials—clothes; makeup; hair products; the popular girl’s bible, Cosmopolitan; and a few odds and ends. My thinking was that if I could bring some sort of normalcy to our lives then we might not slip into utter depression. Maybe it was denial, but focusing on something else for the meantime made me feel better.
As I walked back toward the house, I noticed that everyone was lined up outside the front door like it was a run-through at the beginning of a football game. Except no one would be cheering for me.
God, I missed cheer.
Especially because the squad was performing the routine we’d been practicing for weeks at the upcoming game. During one of our many stops along the way, I’d called my coach to let them know there’d been a family emergency and I’d be out for a while.
Knowing that I was letting down my squad made me feel horrible. But given the situation, I couldn’t see any way around it. It’s not like I could put my life, and the lives of the rest of the coven, in jeopardy just so I could cheer on our starting lineup. I texted Trish, Bethany, and Sofia to let them know as well, and kept things just as vague. Beth and Sofia asked if I was okay, while Trish asked if she could fill in for me as captain. I agreed, although it hurt to give up my position.
But I was clear with Trisha: my hiatus wouldn’t last forever.
“Lead the way,” Sascha said, motioning to the door in front of us. Her arms were full of bags, pillows, blankets, and food—all things we’d picked up along the way. I decided it was a bad idea to go back to everyone’s houses to get their things, so we’d gone on an impromptu shopping spree at a Target after safely fleeing town. There was no telling how long we’d be gone and people needed the basic necessities. We used the credit card my parents had given me for emergencies, since I figured they would’ve agreed that this was one. As Jasmine shifted under the weight of her bags, I shuffled forward to let us inside.
“Hand me the keys and I’ll open her up,” Fallon said, stepping in front of me and holding out his hand.
“I don’t have keys,” I said.
“Are you kidding me? Then why did we come here?” he asked me with a sneer. Then he got an evil look in his eyes and said excitedly, “Do we get to break some windows?”
“No, dunce. We don’t need keys to get in,” I said, placing my hand up in front of me, fingertips just inches away from the door.
For as long as I’d been coming here, our doors had never been locked in the traditional sense. No lock. No key. No worries. My parents explained to me that the cabin’s inhabitants had always had a unique way of coming and going. We used our own magical distinctiveness to gain access to the house.
See, a person’s magic has its own kind of identity. Sort of like magical DNA. And our cabin was effectively closed to those who didn’t share our lineage. In a way it was nice. I never had to worry about losing my keys.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on letting my powers flow through my fingertips and penetrate the invisible barrier that was surrounding the house. Within seconds, I could feel it disappear, and then I reached out and turned the knob.
“Home sweet home,” I said as I stepped inside, smelling the familiar scent of my family’s cabin.
I wandered into the living room just off to my left. Everyone else piled in after me, going off to explore the house. “You can take any room except for the one at the end of the hall upstairs,” I said, still checking to see if anything had changed since I’d last been there.
“The princess doesn’t want the peasants staying in her room?” Fallon asked sarcastically from the hallway behind me.
“That room was my parents’,” I said, shooting him a look. That was all I had to say to shut him up, and I appreciated the silence that followed. “Like I said, you can have any room except for that one. Linens and blankets are in the closet near the bathroom and the couch pulls out into a bed. ”
I walked around the living room, running my hand across various objects as I rediscovered my family’s old vacation house. The sofa had the same soft feel I always loved as a kid. Now I realized that the microfiber was a pretty common fabric, but back then, I used to call it “the marshmallow couch” because it was so soft.
Then I made my way over to the fireplace, where we used to pile up on the floor on chilly nights. When I was old enough to carry in the firewood, it became my job to add logs before the embers burned out. I took the responsibility very seriously and never once let the fire get too low. It wasn’t exactly cool enough outside to need additional heat yet, but old habits die hard and I found myself with the urge to gather up wood before the sun went down.
Instead, I headed upstairs, passing by kids as I went. A few of the older ones were arguing over who was staying in which of the three other rooms, but I was too focused on what I was doing to get involved.
When I arrived at my parents’ door, I placed my hand on the cool surface. I almost knocked before I remembered that I didn’t need permission to go inside because it was empty. Pushing the door open, I stepped across the threshold, almost expecting to see my parents, unpacking and having the little private conversations they had whenever they thought they were alone. But the room was silent. So silent that I could hear the air flowing into my ears, which was incredibly unnerving. Needing to fill the empty space with something other than my thoughts, I picked up the remote control and pressed the power button.
Flipping through the channels, I eventually landed on an old movie that had been one of my mom’s favorites. I just couldn’t seem to get away from the memory of her, so I gave in and snuggled back onto the pillows on my parents’ bed. I watched as kids were chased down by a family of bad guys while searching for hidden treasure. In the movie, the misfits managed to avert booby traps and close calls until they foiled the evildoers and saved the day at the end.
I allowed myself to get swept up in the drama and thought about how we weren’t much different from the kids on the screen. We were on the run from people who wanted to hurt us, and things were likely to get worse before they got better.
As they cut to a commercial break, my mind was brought back to reality and I got up to go to the closet where my parents kept the bed stuff. I grabbed some sheets and pillowcases and started to make the bed. When I was done, I lay back down and breathed in the scent of the pillows deeply. The strong odor of detergent filled my nose, but underneath was the hint of something else. My parents. I could smell the tangy citrus of my mom’s perfume and the muskiness of my dad’s cologne. After so many years the aroma had faded but not completely. Still, I would recognize it anywhere and it made me feel like they were there with me.
I began to cry, lightly at first and then harder, until my body shook like an earthquake. Thank God I’d closed the door, because I didn’t want the others to see me like this. Weak and tired and broken. It was important that I kept up appearances and at least looked like I had it together. Even if I didn’t feel that way on the inside.
The movie started back up again and I forced myself to pay attention. Any escape from reality was sorely needed right now. Wiping tears from my now blotchy face, I watched as one of the boys gave his friends an inspirational speech to keep them going. My mom had told me once why she loved the movie so much. She explained that the kids were all unlikely heroes. People who took on challenges much bigger than they were and never gave up, even when winning the fight seemed impossible.
Mom had said that those were the qualities she’d always tried to instill in me.
I sat up straight on the bed and took a deep breath, feeling as if there were no coincidences in this world. This movie was a reminder of what I needed to do.
Was I completely justified in my feelings? Of course. Did my mom’s death make me ache like a vital part of me had been ripped from my body? Definitely. But should I let it destroy me and everything I’d ever worked for? Hell no. A hero never bowed down to challenge.
And it was what my mom would have wanted.
I was done crying, alone and hopeless in my room. It was time to take my position as leader of this group. I needed to take my power back. Not just for me but for the rest of the Cleri. Because the shit was about to hit the fan and I wasn’t about to be covered in it.