► in which a boy tries not to be a villain, and a girl tries not to be innocent. ◄
In this fickle universe, you are marked from birth as either a hero, villain, or innocent.
Even the doctors don't know your result, and it doesn't sh...
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"G O O D N I G H T!" I wave goodbye to the four people standing in the doorway and smile to myself as I slide into the drivers seat of my car.
Dinner went pretty well, I must say. I really hit it off with Valoria, Orion's equally curly-haired little sister. His mother seems to like me, but being the wannabe Sherlock I am, I overanalyze everything and I feel like she is putting up a front. But who is the woman behind the mask?
A villain, to be sure. I know that much, and now we must decide how we are going to stop her. This is going to be hard on Orion, I already know, so I am bracing myself to bear the brunt of his frustrated emotions. Because really, who wants to take down their mother?
At the top of our list is finding out who the source for the weapon blueprints is. If we can do that, then we will be one step closer to catching them in action.
In the meantime, I have a question I want answered. How far does the telepathic connection between Orion and I reach? And what is it comprised of? How has this never been researched before?
Orion's been very closed off too, lately. I asked him some questions but he always redirects the conversation. He no longer let's me into his thoughts; I think he is scared after what happened at his mother's office. However, it seems like he wants to tell me, but is afraid to. I am not sure where this fear stems from, perhaps time will tell.
I sigh as I pull up to my house, rubbing my eyes. Peter is doing homework at the kitchen island; he smiles when I walk in. "Hey, Pete," I ruffle his blond hair as I walk past, hanging up my keys. "How was school?"
"It was fine," he replies."But I hate saying that because every kid says that, even if they don't mean it. But it really was fine. Not bad, not good."
I laugh, affection surging through me. Peter is so honest, so intelligent for a twelve year old. Qualities that our world lacks, and that cherish. Come to think of it, Orion is much the same, without the innocent child image.
"Thanks for making that clear. It's almost time for bed, though," I remind him, glancing at the clock.
He nods. "I'm almost done with history. Mom knows. She's in the shower."
I walk upstairs, yawning as I climb into bed. River and I text for awhile, arranging to meet for coffee again tomorrow morning. My eyelids are already heavy even though it is only about 11:00, and I slide under the covers, setting my phone on my nightstand.
Soon my eyes are closed and I drift off to restless dreams about fights between villains and heroes, and I am only able to watch from the sidelines, useless. I am an innocent in a confusing and powerful world, trailing behind the action to grasp at the dust they left behind. If only I had been born a hero.
☽ ☽ ☽
Two weeks later, I am driving driving to one of Joe's football games on a crisp Saturday morning, holding a pumpkin spiced latte in my hand. Basic, I know, but the weather has already turned cold, and the hot cinnamon drink tastes like heaven.
