Into the Blue Beam

FIVE

"He's the new kid," Amy told her mother as they stood on the porch. The stone pathway that led to the road also led to Keefe. Amy had forced him to rehearse their whole day the night before—and true to his word, he was standing by the road, looking lost. "I'm supposed to show him the way to school today."

"Where is he from?" Natasha asked, craning her neck as if she'd be able to see the neighboring houses. "I don't remember a new family coming into town."

Amy knew her mom wasn't meaning to be nosy—she just worried a lot was all—but the morning was already veering off Amy's carefully-crafted script.

"You're old," she said. "Old people forget things."

"Old people are also wise enough not to make snarky pre-teen comments like those. And since ye old wise mum is feeling generous today, I'll let it slide—so long as you invite your friend over for supper tonight. Tell him to bring his family too.... The, uh..."

"Elfsteins." What? It was too late to turn back now, though, so—"Er, yeah, the Elfsteins! Chad Elfstein and his Elfstein parents."

Ugh. This was going so badly. Amy finally understood what the saying, "lying through your teeth" meant. Her jaw was starting to hurt from cringing so hard.

Natasha blinked. Amy was sure her mother wasn't trying to be judgmental. Sometimes that just happened when you encountered fellow humans with names like "Elfstein." Then again, Keefe wasn't a human, so the same logic didn't apply.

"Well, er, tell your friend Chad to come to dinner," said Natasha.

Amy was already running down the path. "I will, Mom! Bye! Love you!"

"Chad?" Keefe whined as soon as she joined him.

"Shut up and walk," Amy replied through a fake smile. A second later she bellowed a loud, long laugh. Her mother gave them a glance before shaking her head and getting in her car.

"Can we talk about business now?" Keefe grumbled.

"Hold on." Amy waited until the revving of her mom's car's engine faded into the distance before nodding. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"Uh, beyond your lack of sneaking skills—seriously, I would totally volunteer to teach you sometime, but, well, you know—I'm concerned about how long this little escapade of our is going to take."

Amy's brain fumbled to keep up with the conversation. Keefe had a way of talking that made it seem like he was constantly distracted by something—and then managed to distract you too.

"Uh... you mean the whole you-can't-come-inside-the-school thing?"

"Yeah! So why am I just waiting outside for six hours?! I could be doing my thing right now!"

Another thing Amy had learned about Keefe: he wasn't good at waiting.

"You can't just waltz into a Middle School like that," she explained. "For one, you look like you're seventeen. For two, there are security measures preventing random strangers from entering the school, you know."

"But I'm not a random stranger."

"You kinda are."

"Argh!" Keefe stomped his foot. "It stinks being an elf!"

"Wow, never thought I'd hear that one."

"Hold up a minute," Keefe said, halting abruptly. Amy made a strangled noise in her throat before stomping back toward him, grabbing his arm, and yanking him in the right direction. Her upper body strength had never been all that great, however, so she ended up being the only one stumbling forward.