A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 86: Summer School

I hate Mondays. It's the first day of the week where I need to wake up early, and the hardest day to wake up early, especially when we're midway through summer school. Not to mention that I'm stuck taking two classes instead of one—that's half a semester that Mr. Nally was able to give me to fulfill all my course requirements and graduate in decent time, which also gives people an extra month to make fun of me and call me stupid names like "alien-girl."

Today I walk home alone, if you don't count Pixie, that is. Most of the time, she walks home with me; other days, she waits for me on the porch. I follow her stride through the hot forest trail.

There're others walking with us, some of which spare short stares before looking away; I pretend not to notice. I try to keep an eye on my girl until someone jumps out at me: a guy—he stands over me, tall and thin, laughing, then walks back into a crowd. Pixie growls, her tail twitching, but I tell her no, to stay, worrying that she'll shift—God knows what'll happen if she does.

"Keep walking, freak!" he yells.

"Yeah! You don't belong out here, alien-girl!"

"Wait, does she go to the same school as us?"

"Duh. She's in my class."

"She's not in mine."

"Whatever! What a freak!"

"And a nerd!" I have no idea who any of them are.

"Yeah! Nerd!" And then they're all chanting my old freak title. I hold my breath to hide my emotion and glance down at my fists; they're not glowing. I breathe a sigh of relief, but in truth, I don't feel very relieved. Not at all.

"Come on, Pixie," I mutter. "Let's go." But as I slink off the path back to the community streets, a tear slips down my cheek. I swipe at it without missing a beat, hoping no one's watching.

I follow Pixie up the porch, unlock the door, and walk in. Normally, I'd make a snack and go upstairs, but I'm not all that hungry now, so I grab a couple carrots for Pixie, and she nibbles on them as emotion begins to build. I slump to the ground in front of the fridge and try not to cry.

I hate feeling like such an outsider, at school, even with my own family. Pixie's the only one that understands me, but I can't even communicate with her. John and Nine can, but they hate me. Pixie curls up in my lap when she's done and a ding pings on my cell. It's mom, texting: Ready?

Shit! I completely forgot. It's 4:29. I'm supposed to meet Dr. Cambridge again at 5 p.m.

Mom's home in five with my brother. I hurry out the door when the horn blares and climb into the passenger seat, and mom drives us downtown.

Dr. Cambridge calls my name at the top of the hour. He leads me to the same office we've had all our sessions, lets me walk in first, and asks like he always asks, "How was school?"

"Fine," I lie and sink into the cream-coloured couch.

"Anything you want to talk about today?"

"No. Not really. Just the same old night terror stuff."

"Alright. We can talk about that if you'd like. Do you want to walk me through what you see?"

"I don't really know how to describe it."

"Try," he urges. "Is it with this same man? What's his name? Saytekis?"

"Setrákus," I correct. Somehow, everyone gets his name wrong. "Yeah. He was there. But that wasn't everything. Most of the time, I wasn't even scared of him."

"Then what were you scared of?"

"Me."

"You?" I nod. "How come? What about you made you seem scary?"

"Not seem scary," I say. "I was scary."

He nods apologetically, then looks towards his legal pad on the table between us. I think he wants to write something down, something I said, maybe, but by the look in his eyes when they meet mine, I think he reconsiders. Good.

"What made her so scary then, do you think?" he asks.

"I don't know. I was just so... cold, I guess. Heartless. I didn't look normal. It was like I was... swimming in, um, this blackness," I tell him. "I never really knew what he called it."

"His black sludge?" he wonders. "As in... Setrákus Ra's?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think this dream was trying to tell you?"

"How should I know?" I ask back, on the verge of losing my shit, and just barely clinging on to my niceness. "It's like it was shoving my mistakes in my face, good and bad ones."

"What do you mean by that? Good and bad mistakes..."

"Well, it's just, some stuff I regret more than other things."

"Like what?" he asks.

"I don't know! But what difference does it make? Point is, I shouldn't be having these dreams. Setrákus cared about me, and he wouldn't hurt me with that black stuff."

"Why do you think that?"

"I just know," I say, in pride, I think. "I know how he felt about me. I was his right hand."

"And how does that make you feel now?"

"Like a complete freakin' monster," I admit. "I don't know why I believed him. I know I shouldn't have. It's just... he made me feel safe. He taught me more than I ever thought he could. He even put his life on the line for me, and him dying in my arms... it's my fault; I know it is."

"Now Emily, we've been over this," he says, almost like dad. "Here, this is common ground. Your guilt for this this man and girl is normal, but that doesn't make it real."

"I know," I tell him—because I do. "But it feels real."

"It's not your fault." But I can't believe that.

"John hates me for what I did," I go on, shaking my head. "For what I said. He didn't deserve any of that. I just want to see him again, but I know I can't."

"Perhaps one day you will."

"When? Why wouldn't he be mad at me after everything I've done?"

"If he loves you, he'll learn to forgive," he says, "and you will too, but it takes time."

"But I don't want to wait anymore; I just want him back."

"You will," he assures. "But to have what you had, you need to heal, Emily. It's the only way."

I say nothing and time passes. I can hear the clock tick, at least until I decide it's enough. "Fine. But how am I supposed to get him out of my head? How do I forget?"

"That's up to you to figure out, but don't forget, I'll be here to help you along the way, and one day, you'll accept what's happened to you, but like I said, it'll take—"

"Take time." He's said it enough. I don't need him to say it again.

"Right," he says, nodding. "Our time's almost up. Is there anything you want to add?"

"No."

"Alright, then I'll see you in two weeks."