Catastrophic

Chapter Twenty

        The walk there only consumes some of my energy, but I’m still grateful that not only is the car there, but that it happens to have cushioned seats as well. We waste no time and risk no suspicious glances as we speed out of the parking lot, and I start to get jittery. I have no clue how to show who the Honeys really are, other than giving them the book. And then what? Will they see Wenona’s name from her dad and believe me, or will Emilia convince them that her mother has separated from her past, which then causes me to look like the jerk. Or maybe Emilia will be so shocked and stricken from my discovery that she’ll cave, but I don’t want to give myself false hope. I guess you could call me a pessimist.

    As if sensing my unease, Bryony takes a hand off the steering wheel to pop the radio button on. She wavers her hand on the volume button, cranking it up as if it’ll drown out my thoughts. On the contrary, the rock music suffocates me, and I fist my hands in my hair in frustration. For a second, I remember Ryan’s hands in my hair, and recount the kisses we’ve shared. While a part of me wants to still run into his arms and be embraced, another part of me wants to give him a lesson on how not to be gullible and idiotic.

    I realize that Bryony is still messing around with the specifics of the horrible music, and I scold her lightly. When she doesn’t budge, I start to watch her more closely, and more importantly, I start to watch the road more closely. Because of my concentration, I manage to see a car bending around a corner and reach over just in the nick of time to make us swerve in the other direction. After giving a angry look to Bryony, I decide to play the part of a city driver and roll the window down. Even though the guy is long gone, I stick my finger that is surrounded on both sides by two fingers out the window for show, and I feel considerably better. I feel a swat on my arm and I snap my gaze to Bryony, who’s trying to look stern but is failing. Sometimes, I forget that Bryony is my age, because she carries herself like an adult. Add into the fact that she is my mentor, has healed me and helped me numerous times, and that she is the one who comes up with most of my plans, and she’d almost pass as my mom.

    I guiltily haven’t thought about my family for such a long time. They’re probably worried sick about me, and here I am, just letting them cross my mind for a minute or two. Pat is probably sleeping in my bed, trying to hang onto the Kassie he knows and loves. Too bad that Kassie is gone. She’s no longer sassy and outspoken, and she doesn’t care about herself anymore. She only cares about goals being achieved, and her only thoughts are how to survive the next day. It’s sad, and if I hadn’t still have a part of that naive girl in me, I would scoffed at her. Always covering up her insecurities with brash words.

        “Get out. There’s no time to waste when you’re a hero,” Bryony says as she lovingly pushes me out of my dazed position. We’re here already? I meant to say a final goodbye to her when we were five minutes away, but in my thoughts, I lost touch with the outside world. That horrible music is still playing, and as I step out of the car with my bag and the book, I start to let the tears well in my eyes. The situation is so sad, but I can’t help but admire how Bryony doesn’t let it get to her. “Thank you,” I wholeheartedly thank her. “For everything.”

        Her eyes sparkle with pride even as she sneers, “Don’t thank me. I mean, look at you,” and my smile makes hers shine through. I whisper a  “Bye B,” and run towards the school. She was right about one thing, how I never have a second to spare. If Emilia wanted to, she could enact part one of the destruction of the world whenever she wanted to. The sooner I arrive and stop her, the less of a chance that the world will end before I can help it.

        School is in session as I mix my way quietly into the crowds, and I take Bryony’s advice to not interact with any of these people. Sure, I don’t know most of these people from my time here, but they’ll surely know me. They might even turn me into my parents, and while I’d love that, I have a profession to enact, and I can’t let the world down for a couple of much needed signs of endearment. Besides, if I save the world, then I can go back to my family. If I fail, let’s just hope Heaven is nice.