Tightrope

Plummet from a Medium-Sized Cliff

"How many tubs of ice cream do you think I can feasibly buy without your mother killing me?" Dad said, staring at the Ben and Jerry's tubs lined up temptingly in neat rows.

I shrugged, resting my arms against the trolly. "I say we eat three on the way home, and then she won't even know."

Dad pointed at me. "Good strategy, good strategy. Have the ice cream give me diabetes and kill me, and then your mother won't be able to." He nodded in agreement and threw a stack of tubs into the cart.

I grinned.

"How was the first day back at school, honey?" he asked me.

He had arrived at the school gate to pick me up, grinning, and helped me into the car. He knew that I still felt mild stress at being back inside a vehicle; the way my throat would clog and my hands would shake. At least for the first day, he would pick me up and make sure I didn't have a heart attack on the journey home. The many hard months of rehabilitation would hardly be worth it if I died from stress.

But I didn't like to worry my parents. I was sick of the concerned furrow between their brows, the are you okays? that hardly helped, because even if I wasn't, there was nothing we could do about it. Especially since they didn't believe me when I said I was fine. And I was. Fine.

I shrugged. "It was fine, I guess. Hartley was nice to me though, which is terrifying and weird. Did you neglect to tell me about some sort of apocalypse? Am I at risk of being the host to an alien parasite too?"

"Not to my knowledge. But Jace Hartley?" said Dad, raising an eyebrow. "Nice to you?"

"I know," I said with a frown. "It's so devious, right?"

"Uh, yes?" said Dad, scanning my face for the confirmation he was answering my question correctly. At my nod of agreement, he continued. "Evil stuff. Straight out of nightmares."

"I know."

It was as if I'd summoned him with the sheer force of my hatred. The universe was truly conspiring against me, and I kind of hated whoever was running the big show for it. Was the universe amused by my suffering? Dad and I turned into the next aisle with our shopping trolley, innocently searching for condensed milk, when the sound of Jace Hartley's voice assaulted my eardrums.

It was a voice that made me want to plummet from a medium-sized cliff.

I hadn't been forced to see Hartley for months, and yet somehow, I'd had to suffer through his presence not only at school today, but in the local supermarket too. He didn't even live in the same suburb as me! This is why we hired someone to do our shopping, usually. These were the perils of local supermarkets.

Whoever was in charge of running my life was doing a terrible job. I mean, I'd just recovered from an accident. I deserved some time off bad luck.

"Why do you need that much jelly?" Jace complained. He was such a complainer; so annoying and whiny. I'd complained about that fact to Kaelin often. "Like, are you trying to make Jell-O shots for a whole army?"

Jace was at the end of the aisle, leaning back against a shelf of beans with ease, poking fun at Corine, who was buying out the supermarkets selection of jelly. He looked relaxed; smiling, good-natured, resting languidly against the neat rows with his hands in his pockets.

Corine grinned at him. She was a pretty brunette woman in her early thirties, with bright, wicked eyes and a smile that would remind of Jace's, except it didn't inspire violent thoughts. "I expect you to support me in my campaign to destroy my liver."

"I'm sorry that I care about your health?"

"Are you always this concerned about consequences for your actions?" Corine asked, her head inclined as if she were genuinely curious and extremely concered.