Chapter 10
1556 Words
“You’re going to give me a big head if you don’t stop,” Kass began.
“Would you rather I call your mom?” Kris questioned, pointing at his face. “I thought you said there wasn’t a tag?”
“There wasn’t!”
“Really? Because there’s a hook coming up on the corner of my eye!” he barked out, worried.
“Do you really think anyone could ignore the sight of that? It’s purple…”
“Yeah I know! It’s just… I’ve been out all day since and…”
“Crystal would have hyper focused on it and called you an addict,” Kass supplied.
“...Even though I’ve never touched the stuff,” Kris huffed.
“Yeah, she’s pretty petty,” Kass agreed.
“If it’s not a tag, then what is it and how did it just appear now?”
“Remember Crystal being petty? Does she know anyone in The Cauldron?”
“I don’t know,” Kris groaned.
“Did you even try in that relationship?” Kass teased.
“I didn’t date her friends if that’s what you mean.”
“Okay… okay!” Kass doubled back, following Kris into his room. “Do you have any Lioness Tears in your cabinet?”
Kris frowned, trying to think.
“I don’t think so…”
“What about Vamp Spit?”
“Spit?”
“You know that’s all it is…”
“It’s not,” Kris grumbled, frustrated.
“I swear it is. I’m surprised more species don’t pocket tongues,” Kass grinned.
“You’re messed up. You know that right?”
“I’m not messed up. I’m starving. Have a little fun.”
“I literally can’t. My whole life has been shuffled around,” Kris explained.
“Found it,” Kass assured Kris. “It’s literally the smallest vial you could have found, isn’t it?”
“They do have tablets, you know.”
“That’s a no thank you!”
Kris raised an eyebrow at his friend.
“Unless you’re desperate for some swapping, tablets are gross.”
Kris picked up the nickel plated vial, then untwisted the dropper out of its cap. Kass watched, surely ready to agitate him further about the…spit when the doorbell sounded.
“That must be the…”
“Pizza!” Kass patted Kris’ back, headed for the door.
“Cash and tip are in my wallet,” Kris informed Kass as he applied the serum above his eye.
What a day this has turned out to be.
“Got it!”
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Renee
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Speaking to her mother went about as well as wrestling a jaguar. The woman’s claws ripped Renee’s willpower to the core.
She agreed to false truths her mother spouted just to get a chance at sleep. Renee’s body trembled, vibrating the fibers of her mattress and pillows beneath her.
Her injuries wouldn’t matter in a few hours. Practice would wash them away and give her something else to focus on, like always.
Until then, curling up on her unmade bed, trying to decipher if eating what was left in her bag was even a good idea. Her stomach rumbled miserably in the dark room. Renee swallowed miserably trying to quiet herself, playing mind over matter games.
Minute after minute her night dragged on until the telltale chirps of creatures nearby alerted her of the time.
Renee peered over at the green digital clock beside her bed as if she hadn’t been watching it the whole time. Finally, she’d reached her pocket of time where leaving her hell hole was her first victory in her day.
Renee counted each successful movement with practiced ease. Her bed creaked on the regular, but not in the morning. Her dresser always scraped when she closed it, but not in the morning…
Her list went on, to the door and down those old as fvck stairs that called her out no matter what.
None of it happened because the hope of morning and surviving leaving through the front door thrilled her. The day given was a gift, regardless of how miserable she’s been.
It was her way out of her life without failing on an attempt…
Renee stepped in all the right places, avoiding the house waking, soul damning creaks below her feet. The stairs were older than dirt and lived to tell the tale, but not this morning!
This…
Renee stumbled to a stop, as she caught the silhouette of her mother sitting up on their fancy couch. Perhaps it was childish to get spooked over a little thing, but Tucee’s were a different level of terrifying.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” flew out of her mouth quickly after.
Renee did not need to be hung up here.
“It snowed last night,” her mother replied curtly.
Renee’s eye’s shot to the left of her mother, checking for herself.
“Surely you won’t have practice.”
Renee frowned. You can’t be serious!
Trapped!
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Renee replied carefully, as if her mother would lose all rational thought for control.
“It looks more like six inches.”
Renee tightened her lip. She searched for her boots that were tucked away under the couch looking for anything to say.
“Special teams are there regardless of weather,” she began.
“Are you on special teams?”
“No,” Renee confirmed.
“Then there’s no reason to go.”
“I’m human and on varsity,” Renee followed. “If I miss practice over a little bit of snow, I owe dry land and laps.”
“I’m not driving you there,” her mother ground out.
“You haven’t before,” Renee let slip.
How does this keep happening?
“You don’t need to,” Renee corrected. “Walking is my dry land practice and swimming even though others aren’t there is fine.”
Her mother scowled at her.
“Commendable, even.”
Renee’s mother’s stare flicked over her shoulder, noting how the snow was still falling.
“I’d call my coach, but he’s a guy… so…” Renee trailed waiting for her mother to pick up on her own stipulations.
Maybe she’d remember her position and call off this thing with Jason. Whatever it was now.
Renee could only hope.
With both of her boots laced up, her bag at her side, Renee waited for approval before reaching for her jacket.
“You’re sure you want to walk all the way there, in the snow?” her mother changed the subject. “Wouldn’t you rather have a warm breakfast with us?”
… with us.
It was like her mother knew being allowed to be with them without their hatred hanging over her head, ready to strike. Saying no to it, to her, meant it might never happen again.
“It would be nice,” Renee agreed. Her mother’s smile stretched wickedly across her face.
“Why don’t you then?”
Renee swallowed. Run, her hind brain fought.
“I really need to go…”
“I’m making cinnamon rolls,” her mother’s voice lifted in a sing-songy way.
…They won’t be for me, Renee told herself.
… They’re for her control. She hates you.
“It sounds nice, Mom…”
“And I picked up your favorite!” she sounded out with glee.
… What?
“They only had one box left, but you know I couldn’t leave without it.”
Truth be told, there was a time that Renee could let them in, but it’s been so long, the thought of her knowing anything is terrifying.
“What did you find?” Renee asked, feeding into her mother’s care.
“You’ll just have to eat with us to see,” her mother replied.
… This is dangerous.
… She’s baiting you.
“Alright. So long as I’m not intruding,” Renee’s attention darted around along the floor.
Her mother stood up, “Of course not. You’re my daughter. Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”
“I don’t know,” Renee replied. “Should I stay here and help? Or?”
“Oh no… go back to sleep. It’s too early yet to start,” her mother replied assuringly.
Renee quietly nodded, then thanked her.
… Do not take your boots off.
… It’s a trap!
Regardless, she dropped to one knee, unlacing one boot at a time, then put each neatly away under the couch. Next she stood, thanked her mother again, who outstretched her arms, looking for a hug.
… Danger! The alarm bells in her head rang.
Renee’s body shuddered, her touch unwanted; fake. It was entirely for show, which depressed her even more.
“It’s okay my sweet Rey,” her mother crooned. “You can stay safe with us.”
Renee nodded against her mother’s shoulder.
“I’d like that,” she admitted.
“I know you would,” her mother replied, stroking her hair.
… Like she cared.
… Like Renee was good.
“We all fall from grace sometimes…”
Wait, what?
“Together is the only way back.”
“Mom?” Renee questioned, only to be hushed.
“Why don’t you go back to sleep? Huh?” her mother let go. “I’ll call you when it’s time to eat.”
- Writer
