“Yes, a disaster is coming!” Wanda cried. “That’s why you need to stay close to us. We’ve prepared for every possible scenario.” The two were secret preppers.
“You’re not listening to me! Just forget it.” I went inside and jogged up the steps to my room. Snagging my suitcase, I took one last look around, then returned to the landing.
They hovered at the foot of the stairs. As I bounded down, Sharon said, “Just think about what you’re doing.”
I’d thought of little else, from the day I’d turned eighteen.
For the past nine years, I’d obeyed their orders blindly—mental and physical training for ten hours a day, following a strict diet, never socializing—but in the last year, I’d started to wonder about them.
When I was nine, I’d heard them arguing with my mom. They’d wanted more access to me, but my parents had limited my visits to their home to one night every few weeks. On one of those nights, my family’s home had burned down.
With my parents in it.
When I shimmied past them, Wanda said, “Very well. If you must go to college, we’ll move there with you. We can get a house prepared—”
“Half of the reason I’m leaving is to get away from you!” I kept walking.
“People out there aren’t like us.” Sharon dogged my heels. “They won’t care about you. We’re the only ones who will always have your back.”
I faced them. “Like you had my parents’?” There. I’d said it.
I’d adored my folks. I’d adored my childhood with them. If my aunts had stolen them from me . . .
Wanda and Sharon were Arcana fanatics—one a chronicler, one a Tarasova. They worshipped the game, worshipped my place in it. My parents had stood in the way of my training.
Sharon smoothly asked, “What on earth are you talking about, Lena?”
With my enhanced hearing coming online, I detected the slightest change in her breath and tone. Was this because my accusation had shocked her? Or because she was lying? I turned to Wanda. “Did the two of you burn down our home?”
“Of course not!” Her eyes went wide. “Do you really think we could murder our sister?”
The idea sounded so ridiculous when she said it like that. So why couldn’t I shake my suspicion?
“This is all moot,” Sharon said. “You can’t afford tuition without your trust fund. Your father’s bikes will only take you so far.”
“Then it’s a good thing I got an archery scholarship.” Their faces paled at that. “Really, duh. As soon as I expressed interest, the school took care of everything.”
Wanda’s gaze darted as she cast about for something to say. “You think it’s easy to make friends and fit in? You’re a goddess among mortals; they will want to hurt you. It’s easier not to put yourself in their sights.”
I rolled my eyes. “So I should never make a friend—just because you two decided not to put yourselves out there? Just because you’ll never have relationships or lives of your own?”
In a tone ringing with finality, Aunt Sharon said, “If you go, you will fail.”
“Will I? Don’t you two get it? You will never make the Moon Card doubt herself.”
_______________
Six days ago
“You’re Selena, right?” some chick asked me after history class.
I drew up short. “That’s me.”
She smiled widely. “I’m Candy Sanderson. Really great to meet you.” We shook hands.
It’s happening! I’d only been in school for two weeks, already dominating discussions and turning in extra credit, and now I might be about to make a friend. Be cool, Lena!
“I was wondering why you didn’t rush this summer.”
As in sorority rush? “Never really thought about it.”
“I’m not trying to be stalker-y, but I heard you’re a varsity athlete, and you’re obviously committed to your classes. We’re always looking for cute girls with good grades and athletics. But especially the good grades, so our chapter doesn’t get put on probation!” She laughed. “You should consider the spring rush.”
“Yeah. I’ll give it some thought.” I figured I wasn’t exactly sorority material, and it might interfere with my archery “practice” (which consisted of me showing up and acting like I couldn’t hit the bull’s-eye every time). But if one friend was good, an entire pledge class would be even better.
Candy said, “There’s a rager Saturday at the lacrosse team’s house. You want to go with me?”
Be cool, be cool! “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
_______________
Three hours ago
“Chug, chug!” everybody around the table chanted.
All eyes were on me as I downed my Solo cup. My partner, Brian, the captain of the lacrosse team, and I were crushing it in beer pong. Was there ever an easier target? I’d forced myself to miss a shot, losing control of the table, but I’d get it back now.
After gulping the last swig, I grinned at Candy on the sidelines. She smiled back with a little less enthusiasm than earlier.
When we’d first gotten to the party, she’d introduced me to everyone like I was her new best friend, telling them I’d be rushing.
The Moon had been over the moon.
Candy had grown less possessive when I’d started cutting up with the lacrosse players like I was each one’s long-lost girlfriend.
“You’re not listening to me! Just forget it.” I went inside and jogged up the steps to my room. Snagging my suitcase, I took one last look around, then returned to the landing.
They hovered at the foot of the stairs. As I bounded down, Sharon said, “Just think about what you’re doing.”
I’d thought of little else, from the day I’d turned eighteen.
For the past nine years, I’d obeyed their orders blindly—mental and physical training for ten hours a day, following a strict diet, never socializing—but in the last year, I’d started to wonder about them.
When I was nine, I’d heard them arguing with my mom. They’d wanted more access to me, but my parents had limited my visits to their home to one night every few weeks. On one of those nights, my family’s home had burned down.
With my parents in it.
When I shimmied past them, Wanda said, “Very well. If you must go to college, we’ll move there with you. We can get a house prepared—”
“Half of the reason I’m leaving is to get away from you!” I kept walking.
“People out there aren’t like us.” Sharon dogged my heels. “They won’t care about you. We’re the only ones who will always have your back.”
I faced them. “Like you had my parents’?” There. I’d said it.
I’d adored my folks. I’d adored my childhood with them. If my aunts had stolen them from me . . .
Wanda and Sharon were Arcana fanatics—one a chronicler, one a Tarasova. They worshipped the game, worshipped my place in it. My parents had stood in the way of my training.
Sharon smoothly asked, “What on earth are you talking about, Lena?”
With my enhanced hearing coming online, I detected the slightest change in her breath and tone. Was this because my accusation had shocked her? Or because she was lying? I turned to Wanda. “Did the two of you burn down our home?”
“Of course not!” Her eyes went wide. “Do you really think we could murder our sister?”
The idea sounded so ridiculous when she said it like that. So why couldn’t I shake my suspicion?
“This is all moot,” Sharon said. “You can’t afford tuition without your trust fund. Your father’s bikes will only take you so far.”
“Then it’s a good thing I got an archery scholarship.” Their faces paled at that. “Really, duh. As soon as I expressed interest, the school took care of everything.”
Wanda’s gaze darted as she cast about for something to say. “You think it’s easy to make friends and fit in? You’re a goddess among mortals; they will want to hurt you. It’s easier not to put yourself in their sights.”
I rolled my eyes. “So I should never make a friend—just because you two decided not to put yourselves out there? Just because you’ll never have relationships or lives of your own?”
In a tone ringing with finality, Aunt Sharon said, “If you go, you will fail.”
“Will I? Don’t you two get it? You will never make the Moon Card doubt herself.”
_______________
Six days ago
“You’re Selena, right?” some chick asked me after history class.
I drew up short. “That’s me.”
She smiled widely. “I’m Candy Sanderson. Really great to meet you.” We shook hands.
It’s happening! I’d only been in school for two weeks, already dominating discussions and turning in extra credit, and now I might be about to make a friend. Be cool, Lena!
“I was wondering why you didn’t rush this summer.”
As in sorority rush? “Never really thought about it.”
“I’m not trying to be stalker-y, but I heard you’re a varsity athlete, and you’re obviously committed to your classes. We’re always looking for cute girls with good grades and athletics. But especially the good grades, so our chapter doesn’t get put on probation!” She laughed. “You should consider the spring rush.”
“Yeah. I’ll give it some thought.” I figured I wasn’t exactly sorority material, and it might interfere with my archery “practice” (which consisted of me showing up and acting like I couldn’t hit the bull’s-eye every time). But if one friend was good, an entire pledge class would be even better.
Candy said, “There’s a rager Saturday at the lacrosse team’s house. You want to go with me?”
Be cool, be cool! “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
_______________
Three hours ago
“Chug, chug!” everybody around the table chanted.
All eyes were on me as I downed my Solo cup. My partner, Brian, the captain of the lacrosse team, and I were crushing it in beer pong. Was there ever an easier target? I’d forced myself to miss a shot, losing control of the table, but I’d get it back now.
After gulping the last swig, I grinned at Candy on the sidelines. She smiled back with a little less enthusiasm than earlier.
When we’d first gotten to the party, she’d introduced me to everyone like I was her new best friend, telling them I’d be rushing.
The Moon had been over the moon.
Candy had grown less possessive when I’d started cutting up with the lacrosse players like I was each one’s long-lost girlfriend.
