Walk Through Thorns

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Everyone around the table breathed out in relief. Linda was snoring in the bedroom. The sun was a crimson glimmer behind the trees. Lively was quiet, no cars, no people. Just softly glowing street lamps and the forest beyond.

Avery said, "What the fuck was that?"

Brandon was smiling wide and said, "Not a fan of spiders?"

"You know," Avery said, "I wasn't before. Doubly now."

Greta said, "I thought that was awesome! Who knew Mr. Feral was into the game?"

I said, "He moved across the country, maybe he left his group behind?"

Avery took the figurines he painted and put them up on a shelf beside some blown-glass art Linda had. We all sat there and admired them for a moment. He must have spent hours picking out all the little details of their gear.

Greta said, "Should we invite him to play?"

Brandon said, "He's probably not allowed, being a teacher and all."

"Oh," said Greta, "That's too bad."

I said, "Might be kinda awkward with the age difference anyway. But, we do have to thank him."

Brandon said, "And, see if he wants to write more. Can I send him my session notes with one of you?"

I woke up saturday evening ready to go to bed again. Before I crawled out of bed I did the math on how little sleep I had. This was Friday's fault. Going to school in person was the worst. Waking up at the same time as everyone else was too. And so was the stupid sun.

Actually, looking around, I had woke up early. It took a few dazed blinks for me to realize there was an engine idling in the driveway. The noise must have been what woke me.

My hair was matted to my face as I dragged myself out of bed. I wanted to peak at who was outside, but in full daylight my eyes wouldn't be able to see anything. It could have been Howard. If he had found any evidence of the cult he might have wanted to talk to me about it.

I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and ran downstairs. My hair was off in four different directions, but that wasn't a big deal.

Or so I thought. When I opened the front door, Brandon was waiting in the shade of the porch. I froze, suddenly very aware of my disheveled appearance. I could just barely make out the shape of his dad's motorcycle idling in the driveway. Even in the shade of the porch cover, my eyes didn't handle the light well.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi?"

We both stood there awkwardly. He brushed his fingers through his hair. Why was he nervous?

"Are you gonna offer me a coffee or something?" he asked.

"Oh," I said, "Sure."

My eyes adjusted a lot better once I closed all the curtains in the kitchen. He was wearing a beat up leather jacket he hadn't had last night. He must have visited home during the day.

He hovered in the arch between the foyer and the kitchen while the coffee maker warmed up. When I looked at him he looked away. That wasn't like him at all.

"What's going on?" I asked. "You're not mad at me or something are you?"

Finally, he met my eyes. "No," he said, "Of course not."

I asked, "Then what's up—you're blushing!"

Brandon turned and started to walk to the door. "Nevermind," he said.