Casted

Chapter 22

 "Come on, we need to get you inside. You have no idea what kind of trouble you'd be in if a Stormer saw you."

Ben urged me up the front steps outside his house, throwing glances over his shoulders down the sun-dappled street.

"Believe me, I know," I told him, taking time to admire the house. "I've had enough run ins with Stormers since the Task."

Pam from the salon hadn't been lying about the house; it towered over the others. It was a giant brick structure, tall and proud, with dark green shutters and a high peaked roof. Ivy tendrils crept up the wall around the door frame, snaking up the side of the house until they wrapped around an ugly stone gargoyle near the top. I smirked at the creature, and it sneered back. If I were being honest with myself, the house looked just like my home back in Class 5 probably did when my great-grandparents first built it. Back when they were newlyweds. Back when there was hope. But now that same house stood in the same spot, crumbling and rotting away. Maybe it had been the hope that kept the walls standing and as the hope fell apart, so did the house. I reached up and placed a hand on the doorframe of Ben's home. This place felt stronger, like there was still some hope inside the walls.

"Not all of those run ins were bad though, huh?" Ben said, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced at him as he opened the front door and stood aside to let me go in. "I mean Joseph, he brought your letter to me," he added. "He risked his job- and his life really- to help you."

I stood there for a moment, almost not able to express all that Joseph had done for me. "He didn't just deliver the letter," I told Ben. "He's the only reason I'm here. I never had a plan on how to get to Class 3, not for a second."

Ben chuckled, a smile breaking across his lips. My heart soared. "And yet you sounded so confident in your letter," he said.

"Well when I wrote that I was drunk."

This time the laughter nearly exploded out of him. He leaned against the door, face red and smiling, struggling to catch his breath.

I joined in too, never so happy to hear his laugh and see his lopsided smile. "I'm serious, it's a really long story."

His chuckling subsided and for a moment he just stood there, grinning at me. I couldn't help but grin back. "Well, come on then," he said, motioning to the open doorway. "I want to hear all of it. I want to hear everything."

Heat crawled up the back of my neck and for some reason I didn't know how to respond. I think I muttered "okay" under my breath before shuffling inside, but nothing more than that.

The inside of the house was just as rustic and charming as the outside, all full of wood furniture and soft, fluffy rugs. The air was warm and smelled of firewood, which reminded me even more of my house in Class 5. I found the fireplace in the living room, glowing with hot embers, but the flames had died. Late morning sunlight slanted in through the tall windows, giving the room a brilliant ivory glow. I slipped out of my shoes and let my bare feet sink into the soft rug that lay across the floor, relishing in the sense of security that the house had offered me. I glanced back at Ben, who'd stopped beneath the archway that separated the living room and the breezeway, and gave him a little grin. He smiled back softly, a tiny sigh escaping him. Then an idea seemed to come to him. His eyes lit up.

"Sit down," he told me. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" I asked before I could stop myself. A hint of alarm seeped into my voice.

"Don't worry, I'll just be in the kitchen," he assured me and then slipped behind another door.

"Okay," I said under my breath. "I'll be here."