never seen our fridge or pantry empty. Anytime I wanted something, I only had to mention it to Sylvia. I had never imagined things any different.
“Hey, Sam,” Will interrupted my ruminations, “you still want to walk through walls?”
My face lit up. “Heck, yeah!”
“I was thinking that could be a fun way to kick off our training, you know, like we talked about. Assuming we’re still on . . .”
“We’re totally on.” I needed practice, control.
We made plans for Will to give me a tour of Las Abs where he would show me some of
his favorite things to walk through. He felt that with my being newer at the whole thing it would be safer to do this at night. He also gave me homework, insisting that I practice rippling and reappearing on my own for a few days.
“Great,” I said. “Because it’s not like I’m going to get any homework today or anything.”
“We don’t want to repeat having you materialize inside anything. I want you to ripple away and practice telling yourself to look and make sure you’re clear first before you ripple solid,” he said.
I continued through the first day of school, gathering homework. At lunch, Will and I sat together, and today Gwyn joined us. She fluttered from clique to clique in our small high school, like she didn’t acknowledge the well-defined barriers the rest of us saw. And everyone just let it happen, because everyone liked Gwyn.
She sat and launched into the woes of being the daughter of Bridget Li. “Ma’s forcing me to take AP Biology,” she whined. “Which means I’m already behind. Did you guys know about the research project over the summer?”
Will nodded and I said, “Yes.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said, laying her head down on the table in mock despair.
“Buy a really good paper online?” I suggested.
“Sam!” Gwyn raised her head and glared at me.
“Just kidding,” I said.
“You can join Sam and me, on our project,” said Will.
Gwyn beamed at him. “I knew there was a reason I sat down here,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich. “Great. Organic PB-n-J on whole grain bread. Again.” She stared longingly at my preservative-laden ham and swiss on sourdough.
“Just take it.” I passed her my sandwich.
All that week I practiced, getting ready for our Sunday night rippling “class.” Control meant secrecy. Secrecy meant safety from whoever wanted me dead. It didn’t hurt that I expected to have some fun learning this control.
My dad was down in the Valley with one of the berry farms. Sylvia gave me an 11:30
PM curfew, more than generous seeing as I was crashed out most nights by 9:45.
Will came by for me as the sun was setting.
“There’re all kinds of places for brick walls; there’s Bridget and Gwyn’s for a rock wall
—did you know they live in the town’s oldest building?” asked Will.
I nodded as he continued.
“And the school cafeteria has those big glass windows that are almost like walls. I think you’ll like glass a lot. Then we could try the gym for cinder-block; I don’t know if you’ll like it, but it’s interesting.”
I realized how nervous I felt now that we were actually going to do this. I mean, we were talking about walking through solid objects here. I thought we could avoid a disaster like at the creek, but it was still a sobering reminder that Will didn’t know everything.
He glanced over at me as we pulled into the Murietta Park parking lot. “You okay, Sam?
You’re so quiet.”
“I’m scared.”
“I thought ahead. Check this out.” He pulled out the small camera he’d taken on our trip to Yosemite.
My heart fell to the bottom of my stomach. “You’re going to film this?”
“No, I have some footage of Illilouette Creek to calm you. Water, right?”
“You’re a genius.”
He shrugged. “You know the willows here in the park? Well, they’re not exactly a wall, but the branches form a solid mass, and you like running your hand through
“Hey, Sam,” Will interrupted my ruminations, “you still want to walk through walls?”
My face lit up. “Heck, yeah!”
“I was thinking that could be a fun way to kick off our training, you know, like we talked about. Assuming we’re still on . . .”
“We’re totally on.” I needed practice, control.
We made plans for Will to give me a tour of Las Abs where he would show me some of
his favorite things to walk through. He felt that with my being newer at the whole thing it would be safer to do this at night. He also gave me homework, insisting that I practice rippling and reappearing on my own for a few days.
“Great,” I said. “Because it’s not like I’m going to get any homework today or anything.”
“We don’t want to repeat having you materialize inside anything. I want you to ripple away and practice telling yourself to look and make sure you’re clear first before you ripple solid,” he said.
I continued through the first day of school, gathering homework. At lunch, Will and I sat together, and today Gwyn joined us. She fluttered from clique to clique in our small high school, like she didn’t acknowledge the well-defined barriers the rest of us saw. And everyone just let it happen, because everyone liked Gwyn.
She sat and launched into the woes of being the daughter of Bridget Li. “Ma’s forcing me to take AP Biology,” she whined. “Which means I’m already behind. Did you guys know about the research project over the summer?”
Will nodded and I said, “Yes.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said, laying her head down on the table in mock despair.
“Buy a really good paper online?” I suggested.
“Sam!” Gwyn raised her head and glared at me.
“Just kidding,” I said.
“You can join Sam and me, on our project,” said Will.
Gwyn beamed at him. “I knew there was a reason I sat down here,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich. “Great. Organic PB-n-J on whole grain bread. Again.” She stared longingly at my preservative-laden ham and swiss on sourdough.
“Just take it.” I passed her my sandwich.
All that week I practiced, getting ready for our Sunday night rippling “class.” Control meant secrecy. Secrecy meant safety from whoever wanted me dead. It didn’t hurt that I expected to have some fun learning this control.
My dad was down in the Valley with one of the berry farms. Sylvia gave me an 11:30
PM curfew, more than generous seeing as I was crashed out most nights by 9:45.
Will came by for me as the sun was setting.
“There’re all kinds of places for brick walls; there’s Bridget and Gwyn’s for a rock wall
—did you know they live in the town’s oldest building?” asked Will.
I nodded as he continued.
“And the school cafeteria has those big glass windows that are almost like walls. I think you’ll like glass a lot. Then we could try the gym for cinder-block; I don’t know if you’ll like it, but it’s interesting.”
I realized how nervous I felt now that we were actually going to do this. I mean, we were talking about walking through solid objects here. I thought we could avoid a disaster like at the creek, but it was still a sobering reminder that Will didn’t know everything.
He glanced over at me as we pulled into the Murietta Park parking lot. “You okay, Sam?
You’re so quiet.”
“I’m scared.”
“I thought ahead. Check this out.” He pulled out the small camera he’d taken on our trip to Yosemite.
My heart fell to the bottom of my stomach. “You’re going to film this?”
“No, I have some footage of Illilouette Creek to calm you. Water, right?”
“You’re a genius.”
He shrugged. “You know the willows here in the park? Well, they’re not exactly a wall, but the branches form a solid mass, and you like running your hand through
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