dreams like that before—almost looking in a mirror, seeing a blurry reflection in water, someone just about to tell me. The ones with boys are always the best. I’ll take it over the usual repertoire of nightmares, which always have something to do with Graham dropping me from thousands of feet up. Or Dad leaving. Or getting shot and no one being able to fix it because of my stupid ability.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Miles says.
“Come back in an hour.” I pull my covers over my head, trying to hang on to the last shreds of my dream. I imagine Brady as that boy, would have daydreamed about him all morning if Miles weren’t still shoving me.
“Fiona, I can’t spend one more second alone down there with
them.
Don’t be so cruel.”
I groan. The thought of Graham at my kitchen table replaces all the happy feelings with dread. Seeing him will make the danger real again, and after yesterday’s movie night I really don’t want it to be. I want to pretend that I’m a normal girl in a small town with crazy friends and too much homework.
“Please.” Miles draws out the word, like I’m killing him by not coming. I glance up, not surprised to see The Pout, complete with lip curled under so his chin looks like a prune. Kills me every time.
I push the covers down. “Fine. Just let me get dressed.”
“Of course.” Miles heads for the door. “Let’s go somewhere if we can. I’d rather avoid him when possible.”
“Definitely.”
I rummage through my dresser for something easy to take off. This could be a trap. Graham could have backup or surveillance this time. He could be messing with us, and Mom would never recover from that kind of betrayal. She’d never try again.
I settle on a bright purple halter dress. It has built-in support, so I don’t have to worry about a bra. I grab a pair of flip-flops and leave the rest, though the impulse to accessorize is strong.
Taking a deep breath, I head downstairs. Noise comes from the kitchen, and I pause a moment before interrupting the conversation.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Graham’s deep voice sends a shiver down my back. It’s all I can do not to run.
“You don’t exactly have the best track record with Fiona,” Miles says. “Do you honestly expect her to trust you after everything you’ve done?”
He doesn’t like how Graham treats me, but he can’t change it any more than I can. Graham got away with everything growing up. When Miles tried to stand up for me, he’d get my “flight lesson” instead. That is Graham’s favorite scare tactic—fly a person thousands of feet up, dangle or drop them, and wait until they do what he wants, or splat.
It wasn’t as bad for Miles, since he’s not afraid of heights, but I hated watching him fall because he tried to protect me. Even if Graham always caught him at the last second, Miles would have bruises from smacking into him at that speed. Sometimes they’d throw punches over it, but Graham always won because he’s bulkier. Miles isn’t a wimp, but he’s thin and agile like Dad.
Graham laughs. “You two are both acting like babies. If I really wanted them with Dad, they’d have been back a month ago. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“No. It’s not.” I step onto the gray tile, eyeing Graham.
Like always, he floats a few inches above the floor. He only touches the ground when he lifts weights, which he has to do to maintain bone mass. Graham has a cellular mutation that makes it so his body can run on hydrogen instead of oxygen. He could only float when he was little, but over time he figured out he could go back and forth between the two elements and manipulate them so he could get speed.
He’s one of nine in the world with such advanced flying.
He smiles his trademark smug grin, eyes dark and intense. He looks like Dad with his strong jaw, square shoulders, and an air reeking of confidence. But he has Mom’s auburn hair. “Did you miss me?”
“Terribly.” I head for
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Miles says.
“Come back in an hour.” I pull my covers over my head, trying to hang on to the last shreds of my dream. I imagine Brady as that boy, would have daydreamed about him all morning if Miles weren’t still shoving me.
“Fiona, I can’t spend one more second alone down there with
them.
Don’t be so cruel.”
I groan. The thought of Graham at my kitchen table replaces all the happy feelings with dread. Seeing him will make the danger real again, and after yesterday’s movie night I really don’t want it to be. I want to pretend that I’m a normal girl in a small town with crazy friends and too much homework.
“Please.” Miles draws out the word, like I’m killing him by not coming. I glance up, not surprised to see The Pout, complete with lip curled under so his chin looks like a prune. Kills me every time.
I push the covers down. “Fine. Just let me get dressed.”
“Of course.” Miles heads for the door. “Let’s go somewhere if we can. I’d rather avoid him when possible.”
“Definitely.”
I rummage through my dresser for something easy to take off. This could be a trap. Graham could have backup or surveillance this time. He could be messing with us, and Mom would never recover from that kind of betrayal. She’d never try again.
I settle on a bright purple halter dress. It has built-in support, so I don’t have to worry about a bra. I grab a pair of flip-flops and leave the rest, though the impulse to accessorize is strong.
Taking a deep breath, I head downstairs. Noise comes from the kitchen, and I pause a moment before interrupting the conversation.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Graham’s deep voice sends a shiver down my back. It’s all I can do not to run.
“You don’t exactly have the best track record with Fiona,” Miles says. “Do you honestly expect her to trust you after everything you’ve done?”
He doesn’t like how Graham treats me, but he can’t change it any more than I can. Graham got away with everything growing up. When Miles tried to stand up for me, he’d get my “flight lesson” instead. That is Graham’s favorite scare tactic—fly a person thousands of feet up, dangle or drop them, and wait until they do what he wants, or splat.
It wasn’t as bad for Miles, since he’s not afraid of heights, but I hated watching him fall because he tried to protect me. Even if Graham always caught him at the last second, Miles would have bruises from smacking into him at that speed. Sometimes they’d throw punches over it, but Graham always won because he’s bulkier. Miles isn’t a wimp, but he’s thin and agile like Dad.
Graham laughs. “You two are both acting like babies. If I really wanted them with Dad, they’d have been back a month ago. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“No. It’s not.” I step onto the gray tile, eyeing Graham.
Like always, he floats a few inches above the floor. He only touches the ground when he lifts weights, which he has to do to maintain bone mass. Graham has a cellular mutation that makes it so his body can run on hydrogen instead of oxygen. He could only float when he was little, but over time he figured out he could go back and forth between the two elements and manipulate them so he could get speed.
He’s one of nine in the world with such advanced flying.
He smiles his trademark smug grin, eyes dark and intense. He looks like Dad with his strong jaw, square shoulders, and an air reeking of confidence. But he has Mom’s auburn hair. “Did you miss me?”
“Terribly.” I head for
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