Ann Aguirre: Mortal Danger

“Hello, Edith.” Dad looked up from his paper with an absent smile, peering at me down the rims of his spectacles. He’d missed part of his jaw in shaving, so it prickled with graying whiskers. That sort of thing was common.

My mother made a noise to acknowledge my existence, but she didn’t look up from scratching on a yellow legal pad. Bowls of half-eaten gruel congealed in the middle of the table, even though they’d presumably gotten home late enough to eat lunch instead, one of my mom’s quirks. She worshiped at the altar of steel-cut oats.

Showtime. I set my papers on the table and pulled out a chair. By joining them, I did something odd and worthy of a pause.

My mother looked up. “Yes?”

You’ve got one shot. Make it good.

“I wasn’t sure if it would come through, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up … but I’ve been accepted to the Summer Science Program. Full scholarship.”

Quickly I summarized the benefits of academic focus, college credits, and keeping my brain occupied during the summer. My parents seemed to think if I didn’t use it for those two months, the thing would liquefy and run out my ears. Doubtless they had assumed I’d trail them around all summer, as had become the custom. But since they never paid weren’t paying for another room, maybe they would be glad to have some privacy.

Ew.

My father gave me a questioning look. “You didn’t tell us you applied.”

“It’s pretty competitive. I was afraid you’d be disappointed if I didn’t get in “

“But you did … and with a full scholarship. Congratulations, darling.” Mom leaned toward me and almost hugged me. But she drew up short and offered an awkward pat on the shoulder instead.

“When does it start?” Dad asked.

“In a few days. I know it’s short notice, but—”

“Actually, we had been concerned about how much you’d be alone this summer, even traveling with us. You can only sit through so many symposiums,” Dad said.

Mom added, “We’d toyed with the idea of letting you stay home and apply for a job somewhere, but we won’t be in Boston much for the next couple of months.”

“I wasn’t keen on it,” Dad admitted.

“You don’t trust me?” I pretended to be hurt.

“It’s other people I don’t trust.” His tone was pure cranky.

“So I can go?”

They exchanged a look, beaming information brain to brain and coming to consensus like the Borg.

“Of course,” he said. “It’s a tremendous opportunity, and we’re proud of your initiative.”

“Thanks.” His praise made me twitch because, of course, I hadn’t aimed for better, brighter things. I’d given up. Let the assholes win. The idea lodged in my head; that was so not okay. No matter what, I should’ve kept fighting. I should never have gone to an emotional place where I felt like the bridge offered my best hope.

Never again, I promised myself.

Already, I was better. Stronger. With a goal in sight, I could stand anything.

“Given our conference schedule, this is the best possible outcome for all of us. I’m excited for you. Do we need to book your tickets?” Mom asked.

“No, it’s all set. Part of the full ride.”

She beamed. “You must have really impressed them.”

Well, I impressed somebody. Too bad I knew next to nothing about the people Kian worked for, but he seemed to have come out unscathed. I’d take that as my silver lining.

Dad reached over to pat my hand. “It’s no secret you’ve been unhappy at school, and I’m relieved to see you planning for the future. You won’t always be surrounded by cretins and knuckle-draggers.”

Wow. A small spark of shame went through me. I hadn’t realized they noticed my misery. But then, I stayed in my room, mostly. My parents were as weird as I was, and I couldn’t take comfort in their company.

Mom nodded. “For people like us, college is the next frontier. This is great, not only for the academics, but this summer, you’ll get a glimpse of what the future holds. It’s so much better than high school.”

More guilt, because I intended to abandon their nerd phylum as soon as possible. For the best reasons, I told myself. To give the beautiful people a taste of their own medicine. I’d get inside enemy lines, then break them down one by one.

“Great job winning over the selection committee,” Dad said. “This will look great on college applications in the fall.”

He has no idea how apt that is.

I smiled at my parents. “I know. I’m excited they chose me.”

The morning I left, my parents tried to see me off. Dad smiled at me, obviously pleased with what he was about to suggest. “We’ll go together on the train, have breakfast at the airport, and then we’ll say good-bye at security.”

Damn. This was a problem I hadn’t predicted. “That’ll take an hour each way. Don’t you guys have to prepare your papers for presentation, pack, and whatever else?”

My mom frowned. “It seems wrong to pat your head and say ‘good luck.’ What if you run into trouble on the way?”

Seriously?

“I’ll be fine, two trains and a shuttle bus.” Fortunately, I looked up the route as part of my cover story. “And I don’t have much to carry.”

They both frowned at me, the long pause making me fear that the situation might become untenable. Kian would likely not be amused if I lost half the morning going to the airport and eating breakfast. Once they left, I could probably call him and ask him to meet me there, but what if they wanted to watch me walk through security? I started to sweat.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” I murmured. “I need to be independent, right?”

Eventually Dad sighed. “If you’re sure. This feels like it’s happening too soon.”

“Be careful.” That came from Mom, along with a recitation of things to look out for. “And text us when you get there safely. Remember, we’ll be traveling this summer, but we’ll have our cell phones if you need anything.”

“Will do … and I won’t forget. Have a productive summer.”

They both gave me stiff, awkward hugs that were more like thumps on the back, then Dad pressed some cash into my hands and they let me go. As I stepped onto the street, my phone buzzed. After skimming the text message, I walked two blocks as requested, and Kian met me on the corner.

“You didn’t have any trouble?” he asked.

“Not much. I know how to manage my parents.”

Barely.

“Good. This way.” He stepped off the main walk into an alley, just a narrow gap between two brick buildings. At the end, there was a green Dumpster and some cardboard boxes. If it wasn’t a bright, sunny morning, I’d be seriously freaked out and reconsidering my decision. A little voice whispered that none of this was real anyway, so I might as well enjoy the adventure, one of those super vivid dreams that amazed you when you finally awakened.

“Let’s get out of sight.” The heat of his fingers tangling with mine stole my voice.

I clung, hoping Kian took it for fear or anticipation. I’d die if he knew I just liked holding his hand.

He didn’t speak, but once we rounded the Dumpster, he ported us. I expected to land on the campus, but the world came back into focus inside a small, stylish cabin. If Architectural Digest ever sponsored a wilderness retreat, I suspect it would look like this. From the view out of the window, it was built on top of a mountain with a river rushing nearby, different from the precipice he’d taken me to first.

“Where are we?” I yanked my hand free and stumbled back a step.