The Birch House

Chapter Twenty-Six

The cops left, Chase played some video games, and I studied. It was a normal kind of day, all things considered. Chase had the TV on, looking for any news that might show a clue as to what his dad was up to, but Mystic's local station (it had only one) seemed bland, vanilla, and content-free even on the newscast. The night came; Alex drifted back into human form; we had dinner.

Normal life, such as it passed for in a place like Mystic. In the Birch House. It was only at midnight, when I was drifting off to sleep to the distant, sweet sound of Alex's guitar, that I started wondering about what I was going to do in the morning. I couldn't just hide, no matter what Alex thought. I had a life - sort of - and I'd already missed enough classes this semester. It was go or withdraw, and withdrawing would make things worse. I'd never get my academic life together and go on to the Ivy League schools I was dreaming about.

I fell asleep thinking of vampires, fangs, pretty girls with mean smiles and cigarette lighters. Of fires and screaming. Of Chase's mom floating in the bathtub.

Of Chase, huddled in a corner, crying.

Not a great night. I woke up at first light, wondering if Alex was already gone again, and yawned and struggled my way out of bed and to the bathroom. Nobody else was up, of course. The shower felt good, and by the time I'd dried my hair and pulled on a plain white shirt and blue jeans and sneakers, and loaded up my backpack with the daily essentials, I felt ready to face the outside world.

Chase was asleep on the couch downstairs. I tiptoed past him, but a squeaky floorboard made it a useless exercise; he came bolt upright and stared at me with wild, uncomprehending eyes for a few seconds before he blinked and sighed. "Evie." He swung his legs off, sat up, and rested his head on the palms of his hands. "Ow. Man, remind me that two hours of sleep doesn't really cut it."

"I think you just reminded yourself. What were you doing up?"

"Talking," he said. "Alex needed to talk."

Oh. Guy stuff. Stuff Alex hadn't wanted to share with the us. Okay, fine, not my business. I hitched up my backpack and edged toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Chase asked without lifting his head.

"You know where I'm going."

"Oh no, you're not!"

"Chase, I'm going. Sorry, but you don't get to tell me what to do." Technically, I supposed he could; he was older, and in Alex's absence he was sort of the owner and operator of the house.
But... no. Not even then. Once I started letting that happen - or happen again - I'd lose whatever independence I'd earned. "I have to go to class. Look, I'll be fine. Sophia's Protection's still good, and the campus is neutral ground, you know that. Unless I screw up, I'll be okay."

"It's not neutral ground for Millie," he said, and looked up. "She tried to kill you, Evie."

True. I gulped down a hard little bubble of fear. "I can handle Millie." I didn't think I could, but at least I could avoid her. Running was always an option.

Chase stared at me with bloodshot, tired eyes for a few long seconds, then shook his head and flopped back against the couch cushions, arms spread wide. "Whatever," he said. "Call if you get into trouble."

Something in his tone made me want to shed the backpack and crawl up on the couch next to him, cuddling close, but I straightened my spine and said, "I will," and marched to the door.