Thrall (3 page)

I pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and poured two glasses. “So what’s the special occasion?”

“Who said there was a special occasion?” he asked. “Why can’t a dad just decide to cook a questionably nutritious breakfast for the apple of his eye?”

I followed Dad into the dining room and sat at the table. He set a plate in front of me. A few pats of butter melted into creamy puddles on top of the golden pancakes. Exactly the way I like them, just butter, no syrup. They smelled fantastic. My stomach rumbled eagerly. I took a bite. They were delicious - light and fluffy with a hint of cinnamon. “Mmmmm.”

Dad’s eyes twinkled at my reaction. “Bon appetite.”

I took another bite and savored it. Dad watched me. His own plate of pancakes sat before him, untouched. I glanced at the kitchen clock. “Aren’t you going to be epically late to work?”

“They can manage without me for one morning,” he said. “How is it possible that you’re almost sixteen years old?”

He said this so wistfully that I laughed. “Dad, I’m still the same me.”

“Well, the government disagrees with you. Apparently they only make these appointments...” He slid a piece of paper onto the middle of the table. “...for mature young people ready to take on the responsibilities of legal drivers.” I saw the New Mexico MVD logo. My official driver’s license application.

“The same me, but also mature, law-abiding, and totally responsible!” I said, snatching up the application. After all the driver’s ed classes and supervised practice in Dad’s truck, I was finally going to get my actual license. “When do we get the car back?”

“In a week or two,” he said. He was letting me drive his old Firebird. It had been sitting in the storage garage in our back yard for years, so he’d sent it out for a tune-up. It was kind of a rust-bucket, with cracked seats and a layer of grime it would take hours to scrub off the dashboard. But it was still a car, and in a few weeks it would be
my
car.

“I’ve got the perfect stickers for the back window already picked out.”

Dad smiled. “Mature responsibility is a good look for you.”

I glanced up, sensing my opportunity. “Speaking of growing up... Maybe this year, since it’s my sixteenth and everything, Cassie and Royal and I could celebrate my birthday at the Raven?”

Dad actually choked on a bite of pancake and had to wash it down with a swig of coffee. “The club?”

“They have an underage section and it’s totally cool. It’s not like we can get into any trouble. Please, Dad?”

“Hang on. First of all, you’re turning sixteen, not twenty-one. I don’t think a club...”

“Wait, just... would you think about it before you say no?”

Dad frowned, but after a moment - and very reluctantly - he nodded.

“Thank you!”

Dad arched an eyebrow. “I’ll
think
about it.”

I took another bite of pancake, envisioning the look on Royal and Cassie’s faces if Dad actually said yes.

“Oh, honey, could you come straight home after school today?” My mouth was too full to ask, but he saw the question in my eyes and answered me. “Just a couple of things we need to talk about. And if someone delivers a package, don’t open it. I special-ordered something for your birthday and it should be arriving soon.”

I swallowed. “Mmm. This special-order thing intrigues me. What’s the talk about? Notice how I caught that little ‘distract her with the present’ thing you did?”

Dad drained the last of his coffee and ruffled my hair, something he hadn’t done for a couple of years. “As usual, your gift of perception awes and amazes me. Look, nothing to worry about. It’s just that you’re growing up now, and there are some things we need to...”

I clamped my hands over my ears. “Agh! LA LA LA LA LA! If this is the sex talk, you should know that they covered all the pertinent stuff in health class, so... you know... no potentially mutually emotionally scarring father-daughter talk necessary.”

“Right.” Dad leaned back in his chair, amused. At that moment, we saw Royal’s car pull into our driveway out the bay window. Dad stood, finishing his coffee. “After school, okay? Don’t keep your friends waiting.”

I ate the last bite of pancake off my plate, then stood and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll clean up when I get home.” I hurried out the front door, scooping up my school bag on the way out.

Fall mornings in the high desert can be bracing. I took a breath and shivered. It must have rained last night; an unusual humidity gave the air an extra bite. I drew my sweater tighter around me as I walked out of the house. Pretty soon I’d need to start wearing my winter coat again. Our house had a wide front porch (Dad called it our portico) framed by hand-carved wooden pillars. It had been built in the 1930s in the old New Mexico Territorial style. Our front door and window grids were all painted a pale turquoise, which stood out dramatically against the sand-colored stucco of the house’s exterior. The windows were still framed with the original Victorian details and painted a dark chocolate brown. There was something that felt handcrafted about our home. Lived-in. Safe.

Royal’s convertible idled in the driveway. Cassie was already sitting in the back seat, waiting for me.

Royal gestured over my shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got new neighbors.”

I followed Royal’s gaze to the house next door. We lived in a pretty little neighborhood. Like ours, most of the houses on our street had been built in the 1930s. I didn’t know a lot about the Great Depression other than what they cover about the dust bowl in school, but I knew that Puerto Escondido had become a center for artists under the New Deal. Because some of those artists built up our neighborhood, a lot of homes on our street were registered as historical landmarks. Most of them were meticulously maintained.

The glaring exception was the house just to the left of ours. It would be charitable to call it an ‘eyesore.’ It had stood, empty and neglected, for as long as I could remember. But Royal was right. A moving van was parked on its cracked front drive. I turned back to Royal.

“Wow. Someone actually bought that crap hole?”

Royal’s eyes widened a fraction. “Uh...”

I was too mystified to read the warning in his face. “I thought the city condemned that place. I heard the roof collapsed. How cracked do you have to be to move into a roofless deathtrap?”

Someone spoke behind me. His voice was quiet but warm. “I can think of worse things than falling asleep under the stars.”

I clamped my mouth shut, mortified. Royal smiled helplessly; the damage was already done. I cleared my throat, doing my best to salvage the moment. “Stars. Sure. Now that you mention it, I can see how that would be...” I turned to face my new neighbor. When I saw him, I almost lost my train of thought. “Kind of... romantic.”

He stepped out from behind an overgrown hedge at the edge of the property. He couldn’t have been much older than me, but there was something about him that made him seem infinitely more experienced - a gravity in his eyes, like he’d been living with a deep pain. He had an athlete’s build and dark hair that fell across his face, long enough to cover his eyes. He brushed a lock back and I found myself staring. His eyes seemed to shift colors between light green and tan in the dappled morning light. They crinkled warmly as he smiled. I felt a heat rising in my face and knew I must be blushing.

Behind him, a compact man emerged from the house and picked a box up off the creaking porch. When he spotted us, his steps slowed.

“Lucas,” he called. “Give me a hand.”

The boy acknowledged this with a half-hearted wave, shrugging for our benefit. “Have fun at school.” His eyes lingered on mine for a moment, then he turned and walked back into his new home.

I stood in awkward silence for a moment.

Cassie spoke first. “Huh. I never really understood ‘drop-dead gorgeous’ before.”

Royal laughed, and the spell was broken.

I opened the passenger side door and slid into Royal’s car quickly. “If you love me, get me out of here.” Royal grinned, hitting the gas and pulling away from the curb.

Cassie leaned over my shoulder and whispered, “And right next door to you, Braedyn. Talk about an early birthday present from the universe.”

The first half of the school day passed uneventfully. Royal caught up to me after math and we made our way to the dining hall for lunch.

“Did you ask your dad about the Raven?”

“It could go either way,” I said. “He almost choked to death when I brought it up, but he did promise to think about it.”

“So there’s hope.” Royal’s eyes lit up. I could almost see the plans forming in his head. Someone shouldered past me, knocking me into Royal. Royal turned after them, incredulous. “Um, excuse you?”

It was Amber and Ally. They looked back at us, eyes wide with feigned innocence. Ally snapped her compact mirror shut. “Oh, sorry, I totally didn’t even see you.” I rubbed my shoulder, seething. Ally was the best athlete on the cheerleading squad – an actual gymnast. She was the principal reason they’d won regionals last year. But she took all her cues from Amber.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, struggling to rein in my anger.

“Seems like you’re the one with the problem,” Amber said. “Maybe you should get an orange vest or something.” Her eyes shifted to something behind me and she smiled. I turned.

Greg Pantelis was walking through the crowd. He had dark olive skin, dark curly hair, and a dazzlingly white smile. Rumor had it he’d been born on a small Greek isle that had been in his family for generations. He was the star of the swim team, and take my word for it - that had nothing to do with athletic prowess. Girls would line the bleachers at swim meets to catch a glimpse of Greg with his shirt off. He was a daily topic of conversation in the girl’s locker room.

Amber slicked a hand through her perfectly straight hair and pulled Ally down the hall after him. “Hey, Greg. Wait up.” Greg turned and gave Amber a friendly smile. She and Ally flanked him as they disappeared into the crowd.

“There’s never a vomitory around when you need one,” Royal said sourly.

I smiled, trying to shake off my anger. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “It
sounds like
what I think it means.”

I was still laughing as we made our way into the dining hall. Cassie was already seated at our customary table by the back wall. She looked up from a math book as we joined her.

“Quiz?” Royal asked.

“I’m tutoring after school,” Cassie answered. “Just wanted to brush up on differentials.”

Royal put on a mock-disapproving voice. “No advanced math at the table, young lady.”

Cassie closed her book with an exaggerated sigh, playing along. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Lunch at Coronado was served family style. Generous portions of lasagna and broccoli sat steaming on the table. We started serving ourselves.

Royal nudged me. “Look, it’s the return of the little lost king.” Cassie and I turned to look where Royal pointed. Derek, Parker, and three other guys from the soccer team entered the cafeteria, pausing to hang their jackets on a row of coat hooks nearby. Derek looked exhausted and distracted.

Parker frowned at him. “Dude, snap out of it. We have a game tonight.”

Derek shook his head, as if to clear his vision, and unzipped his jacket. “I’m sorry, man. She was one frisky little pussycat. I got zero sleep on Saturday night.”

Parker looked disgusted. “Hope it was worth it. Amber’s gonna gut you when she finds out you ditched her to hook up with some random hottie.”

Derek glanced over his shoulder, paranoid. “Dude. Keep it on the DL. We’re getting together again tonight.” Derek hung his jacket on a free hook. His friends traded amused glances as they turned to head for their usual table in the center of the dining hall.

Cassie and I traded a look. Cassie imitated Derek’s irritating swagger. “I’m like cat-nip for babes,” she murmured. I clapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my laugh.

“Hold up.” Parker put a hand out, stopping Derek. I glanced up and saw Parker staring directly at me. I turned back to my plate as a tight knot formed in my stomach. Behind me I could hear Parker asking, “How much was that bill?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Derek turn in my direction. Cassie spotted him, too. We were so focused on Derek that we didn’t notice as another person stopped at our table.

“Mind if I join you?”

I looked up. My new neighbor was standing beside me with his hand on the back of an empty chair. He wore a Coronado Prep uniform, and somehow made it seem almost casual. He smiled into my eyes, waiting. I realized I was staring and grasped for something to say. “Yes.” Cassie kicked me under the table and I heard my mistake. “No. No, we don’t mind.”

Cassie and Royal traded a quick look and Cassie gestured to the table in welcome. “The more, the merrier.”

He sat down with a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks. I hate first days.” His smile took in all of us. “I’m Lucas.”

Royal pushed the lasagna tray over to Lucas. “Welcome to the Gulag. I’m Royal. This is Cassie. I’m sure you remember Braedyn.”