Emberlight

8. The Cake for Lost Causes

Kelsey

Tucking her legs closer to her chest, Kelsey ignored the glare burning her from across the common room. She concentrated on each stroke of her pencil against the notepad as she etched a perfect replica of the harrowing memory—the bloody hallway—trying to get it out of her head, but the way Finn scowled at her from across the room felt like a rash on her retina.

She stood from the sofa, tucked the notepad under her arm, and met the challenge in his eyes.

"Yo, grumpy twin," she said with an edge to her tone. When he didn't reply, she added, "You've been staring at me all day. Isn't it about time you said something?"

As she approached, he redirected his glare to the pool table. Maybe he was deciding if the stain on the green baize really did smell like beer, or maybe he was scared of her. She liked the idea of the latter. Yes, he was a big guy, but that didn't mean she would let him push her around or judge her without a good reason.

"No seriously," she said, leaning forwards to rest on the side of the table. "Does my sitting around all day offend you? Because it's not like I have anywhere else to go or anything to do." Except pick a fight, she finished off in her head.

He huffed loudly, and redirected his hateful glare to the sketchbook in her hands. "You took that from the fallen. That was Adam's."

"So what?" She shrugged. "Isadora said we could take anything from the closet."

"She didn't mean you. She meant your friends. You shouldn't even be allowed here."

"What makes me different?"

"Child of LOCA," he muttered, almost as if ashamed of saying it.

Kelsey took a deep breath until her frustration settled enough for her not to lash out and scratch him. Sitting around all day made her cranky, she knew that, but what was Finn's excuse? She'd seen him share a joke with Tristan, and apologise to Feya. What was his problem with her?

"So what? Feya and Tristan's parents attend too, so what the hell is your problem with me? What makes me any different?" She waited for his reply. He glanced at some onlookers and shook his head. She thought about it for a little longer. "What you really mean is child of Ester Black, isn't it?"

He didn't say it. He didn't need to, but she might have respected him more if he had.

"Does everyone know who she is?" Kelsey clenched her fist. Her mother's reputation clung to her like wet clothes after being out in the rain for years. She thought she was safe and dry here, but even in a pocket of land impossible for the magicless to cross, her mother had found a way to hurt her. Kelsey couldn't retaliate, but she could lash out.

She flipped through the pages in the notepad until she found a sketch of some person who looked a little like Finn.

"What are you doing?" he asked nervously.

"Giving you something to watch," she said, tearing through the page slowly, carefully, drinking in his glower of rage as she artfully guided the rip down the centre of the sketch, rigging tension to his muscles. He turned away from her as she reached the drawing's chin, but the crrrrrr of the paper had him storming back around.

"We're the ones risking our lives," he hissed. "We're the ones dealing with 'gifts' and making sacrifices. You're nothing. You're not one of us, and you're not taking Adam's sketchpad to your hateful mother as a souvenir of your time here."

"My hateful mother?" Kelsey asked.

"Yes. We both know it's true."

"You're totally right." She watched his face change with surprise. "I'm not about to hand it to her. After standing up for you Embers for years, kicking off the Aversion before my mother can do any real harm, it might seem a bit out of character, don't you think?" She shook her head at him. "You know nothing about me, but you're so quick to judge. Just like LOCA."