Into the Blue Beam

THREE

Amy's stomach had a pit in it for the rest of the afternoon, and she didn't know why. An hour passed of watching reruns of I Love Lucy, but it was more background noise than anything else.

She knew she should've called Sophie back on the Imparter. Yet... there was a sort of spite that came from being ignored, and at the same time she figured Sophie could wait. After all, that was what Amy did: wait. All the time, for stupid elvin information that didn't even pertain to her. It was like the Lost Cities were taking over her life even when she wasn't living in them!

Now Keefe was here, and Sophie had only called an hour ahead, as if Amy was supposed to accomodate to every elvin need. So now she had to hide a mysterious boy from her parents WITHOUT knowing the stupid reason why!

She grunted a little in frustration and kicked the couch. "OW!"

"You okay, honey?" her mom called, and just like that, Amy's anxiety skyrocketed to new heights.

AAAAAAAAAAAAH! her brain screamed, even as, logically, she knew Keefe hadn't been spotted. If that were the case, there would have been a lot of yelling. And banging. And... well, not normalcy.

Exactly—normal. Just act normal, Amy.

"Hi, Mom," she said, plastering a smile on her face and directing it behind her. She wasn't sure if she hit the mark, though, because her eyes were fixated on the slightly ajar door leading into the garage. It was now becoming not-so-slightly ajar as a familiar blond elf slipped into the house.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! she mentally hollered. Apparently her sister's Telepathy didn't get passed down, however, because Keefe didn't respond.

Either that, or he was ignoring her—which, if that were the case, she was going to murder him.

He stood there for a second, peering into the hallway that led away from the living room and kitchen. Amy knew it went to the stairs, which would lead to her room and a bathroom, but it also went to her parents' room.

This was bad. So very, very bad.

"What are you staring at?" Natasha Harris asked, starting to turn around.

Keefe froze. Froze. Like he hadn't sneaked into a gajillion other places as he'd claimed!

You SO owe me, Amy grumbled inwardly. Out loud she blurted, "Upstairs!"

Natasha swung back to face her. "Excuse me?"

"Homework! I... uh, didn't finish it. I Love Lucy was playing and all. So, um, I'm going to go upstairs to my room and work on it."

Her eyes flashed to Keefe for enough time to see him make some weird hand signal. Before she could respond, he was darting down the hallway.

"Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale," murmured Natasha, placing a hand on Amy's forehead. "You know I don't like medicine, but maybe some of my essential oils could help..."

"Nope! No essential oils, thanks!" Amy interjected, hopping up and sprinting in the direction Keefe had gone. She would not sniff peppermint or lavender or whatever evils her mother tried to lather all over her body. No thank you—she'd take dealing with a delinquent elf any day.

"What were you doing?!" she hissed as soon as her feet could take her to her room. The door was cracked open, and she could see Keefe on the other side, not letting her in. "Get your butt out of the way, Keefe Sencen, or I'm calling Sophie and telling her to pick you up!"

That seemed to affect him, and he shifted, allowing her to storm inside and slam the door shut. "Don't tell Sophie I'm here, Amy. That's one thing you have to promise."