Boundaries

Tish: facing reality

Tish

The two people I was with the most had lessons for most of the day, and so I too sat in class, relearning fractions, semi colons, and types of clouds. Conor seemed to always be waiting for me to tease him about how little he knew of the world, but the very least I could do was refrain from poking fun at his lack of education. It was hardly his fault.

"It makes me upset knowing that your handwriting is nicer than mine," Brian said, handing Conor back his essay from yesterday. "Like, you've been writing for less than a year, right?"

"It takes me forever to type; it's easier to write," Conor shrugged. "Someday."

"Well, until then, Katie dearest, you should take a page from his example because I can't read your handwriting without help."

"It's a good thing I like you," she grumbled, seeing the grade on the paper he handed back to her.

Susie Lynn hid a yawn behind her hand and frowned at her paper.

"Just promise that my next book won't be so boring," she said. "Or so long."

"Listen, I have a stack of book titles that you are welcome to pick through, but we're going to read them all according to your charter school. Aren't you glad to get boring out of the way?"

Conor had read aloud to me the final chapters of his book about a mail order prairie wife last night before bed. It hadn't been terribly exciting, but I enjoyed listening to Conor read. He would stop and offer his own commentary or ask me questions I didn't have answers to. I wondered how many books it would take for Conor to sound more human.

"Brian, when do we get the table back for lunch?" Mel inquired.

"I'm done," he said. "They're free, once they pick out their next book, that is."

Katie groaned and Conor pondered the list Brian offered him. He showed me, and I selected one at random, knowing I'd hear all of them before next May. I looked forward to someday, if Conor and I were still dating, we could go to a restaurant and Conor could order without taking a year to read the menu.

"You all have been cooped up this morning, why don't you get outside, enjoy the fresh air?" Mel suggested.

"It's two degrees outside," Brian protested.

Conor laughed at him and pulled me out of the house, though we didn't stray far, only to the new swing on the porch. I was far more cold-sensitive than Conor was, but sitting next to him helped; he was always so warm, regardless of the temperature it was.

"Have you ever been ice skating?" he asked.

"No," I snorted. "When would I have had the chance? We were fighting werewolves all the time."

"Maybe when you were a child; I don't know much about your childhood. And I've never been to California."

"Technically you have," I mused. "That's where the research facility you were held is."

Conor frowned at me. "How do you know?"

"Hunters only have two, one in DC and one in California. I thought they only researched vampires in California, but I think maybe that werewolves are just rarer. We don't seem to know a great amount about ourselves, so I'm not surprised the hunters were ignorant too."

Conor had a distracted look in his eyes, and I realized I shouldn't have brought up the research facility. He didn't know anything about my childhood, but I didn't know anything about what the hunters had done to him.