P. Hoover - Solstice

I scowl even though she can’t see me. “You’re not fine. Just wait there for me.”

In the FON, I hear someone talking.

“It’s okay, Piper. My mom just got home.”

“Can I talk to her?” I ask.

Chloe actually laughs. “No. I’m fine. Really. I’ll take some medicine and take a nap, and I’m sure I’ll feel much better.”

Still, I don’t want to let it drop. “Can I come by later?”

“How about I call you, Piper?”

“I could just stop by after school,” I say.

Chloe blows out a breath. “I’ll be asleep. Seriously.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. Anyway, I gotta go.”

At least her mom is there which is some consolation. She should be able to keep Chloe from doing anything destructive. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say.

“Yeah,” Chloe says. “Tomorrow.” And she disconnects.

At least Chloe is alive.

My mom doesn’t come back that day. Nor does she call me or text me or anything. I must call her and text her twenty times, but I don’t get any response. And other than that I have no idea how to reach her. She didn’t even tell me where she was going. And I wonder if somehow, by wishing she’d go away forever, I’ve made her do just that. Though I know I should miss her, the emptiness of the Botanical Haven fills me with freedom. And if she never comes back, I know I’ll have this freedom forever. I’m a horrible daughter for feeling this way, but my feelings persist.

My heart sinks Tuesday when I walk into Social Sciences. Shayne’s still not there. I stare at his chair for probably the entire hour, wondering when he’ll decide to show up. But wondering doesn’t help. Mr. Kaiser spends the lecture talking about alternatives to the missiles and underground groups that are fighting against the city, but the class feels dead; I don’t even want to listen, but I force myself to.

He starts with a list like he always does. I manage to come up with the Japanese air diverter option, and someone else mentions the reverse tornadoes they’ve been dreaming up in South America. But I swear for each item listed, Mr. Kaiser has at least three reasons why it does more harm than good. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“So what’s your solution then?” I ask. All he does day after day is give us a million reasons why nothing will work.

Mr. Kaiser sets the orange dry erase marker down and leans back on his desk. “For starters, we stop everything we’re doing.”

“Everything?” someone says.

“Everything.” He points at the list. “Let’s imagine that none of these tactics had ever been tried. Where would Earth be then?”

“Dead?” someone suggests, and I have to admit it’s a valid point. One severe heat bubble and our entire city would have been wiped out.

“Not so.” Mr. Kaiser slams his fist down on the desk. “That’s exactly the kind of propaganda the city council has been feeding you. But who’s to say the heat bubbles would even still be a threat?”

“Councilman Rendon,” I say. He’d say the bubbles would still be around.

“Right,” Mr. Kaiser says. “Councilman Rendon and others like him will continue doing anything and everything they can without enough long-term experimentation. And when they keep it up, the only viable solution will be for everyone to move underground.”

Underground. I actually have to suppress a smile at this. We’ll be underground one way or the other. Either everyone will be dead and in the Underworld, or everyone will be alive and living in an underground city. Like somehow the worlds will be merged no matter what happens.

At least Chloe’s in Study Hall. She’s at our table when I get there, and I pull out my chair, dropping my backpack on the ground.

“How are you?”

She’s wearing a red bandana today, crisp and ironed, like she’s taken extra care in making sure it’s folded perfectly. She looks up, and I notice how pale her face still is. But worse, her skin seems to carry a thin layer of yellow mucus just like the pomegranate tree. It stays there even when I blink.

“My mom told me I was sick.”

I smile and try to get her to relax. “Yeah. It was the heat.”

Chloe shakes her head. “That’s what my mom told me. But I don’t remember it. It’s like the last three days have been a blur.”

I decide not to bring up our FON conversation from yesterday. Maybe if she doesn’t remember breaking light bulbs, it’s for the best. I take her hands, and the second we touch, the mucus disappears. But her hands feel like dead, clammy fish in mine. “But you’re better now. That’s what matters.”

But even as I say it, Tanni’s haunting words telling me Chloe will die slam into me so hard the air is punched out of my stomach.

But Chloe didn’t die. She’s here in front of me. She’s cheated death, and Tanni’s horrible words will never come to pass.

I realize my face has frozen into a frown, and I’m sure Chloe’s going to call me out on it, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Is your mom back yet?” Chloe’s words snap me back to the present.

I shake my head. “It’s weird. She hasn’t called or anything.” And even though my mom and I have our differences, another day has passed, and the thought of her being gone forever has started to grow a lead anchor of guilt in the pit of my stomach.

Chloe purses her lips together. “So no word from your father?”

“Not since the note.” Of course, with my mom gone this long, maybe she’s convinced my father to give up. Or maybe he’s abducted her and is coming for me next.

“Maybe she won’t come back,” Chloe says.

I laugh, but then stop when I see Chloe’s not smiling. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What would you do, Piper?”

I know the answer—at least what I’d want to do. I’d go back to the Underworld. But now, a few days later, it seems unreal. Like it almost didn’t happen. I decide now’s as good a time as any to start telling Chloe everything that’s happened, but I’m not sure how to start. “Well, I’d wear really bright colors every day,” I say. “Like red.”

Chloe smiles and tugs at the ends of her bandana. “Red is the color of blood.”

My face freezes. “Yeah. It is.” It seems like a whacked-out comment. “And cherries,” I add.

“Blood reminds me of death.”

Chloe will die. Tanni’s words. I ignore them.

Chloe tents her fingers in front of her face. “Remember when you asked me about fate, Piper?”

I nod. “Sure.” I push Tanni’s words away.

“I don’t think someone can escape fate,” she says.

Chloe did. Shayne had given me a choice, and I’d saved her. And she’d cheated fate. Stayed alive. “They can, Chloe.” But even as I say it, it strikes me as false. Like I’m lying to her and myself all at the same time.

“There’s a funeral tomorrow,” Chloe says.

I nod. “Randy Conner. Are you going?”

“I want to see it,” she says. Which is a weird reason for wanting to go to a funeral.

“Why?”

“I want to see the people.” And then she grabs my own hands back with such force, my pinkie finger feels crushed against the rest of my hand. “Do you ever wonder what someone would say at your funeral?” She looks at me, and it’s the first time today her eyes meet mine and really see me.

I shake my head and try to break my hands free. But she won’t let go, and I can’t get them to budge. “No. I haven’t.”

“Do you think he’ll be there?”

“Who?”

“Randy.” She says it like it’s the most natural question in the world. “Do you think he’ll be there watching?”

“Chloe, he’s dead.”

She doesn’t hear me. “Would you watch your own funeral? Would you want to know who came?”