Destiny's Witch (BxB)

Chapter 2: The Future, or Lack Thereof

Perry

Inside the walls of my family's craftsman style home, my father's lie sailed over my mother's head. It is surprising the pastel blue paint in the hallways has not flaked off from the heat we have thrown at each other. From the outside, the exposed beams, low-pitched gable roof, and tapered column create the illusion of a loving family that never fights.

The well-manicured lawn and landscaping enforce this theory, with the rose bushes being just the aesthetic needed to push it over the top.

Drifting again.

A goodnight and shower later, I am lying in bed thinking of what my father said. I had never seen a vampire before the night I was called. The world feels increasingly different. The world is darker, yet I do not fear anything as much as I should. The things that dwell in the darkness concern me, but I feel confident in my ability to best what comes my way. As Alan cautioned me against such thinking, warning me it is a dangerous thought.

I have seen enough TV to know situations like mine are not a fun romp through a field of daisies. The danger I am presented with is real. The thought of going to school like everything is normal seems futile. I am supposed to sit in class, and pretend when the sun goes down, the world will be the same as it is bathed in light.

The only consolation is I will see my friends for the first time since summer began, even if I have been sworn to secrecy by Commander Alan.

I awake with a renewed sense of excitement. The prospect of seeing my friends again threatens to bring a dangerous level of normality back to my life.

At the beginning of summer, my parents took me to visit my grandmother before we dropped off my brother at college. The bulk of our summer was spent out west. My friends had much the same trajectory, with many leaving Solstice Hills for a chunk of the summer.

The idea of seeing them persists from the moment my alarm clock scares me into reality. My mom's voice follows. I find the familiarity comforting, if not annoying. My eyes are glued to the ceiling for at least ten minutes before my mother calls for me again, threatening to come up if I do not show signs of life.

She is clearly where I get my chaotic gene.

Finally roll out of bed, I shake off my grogginess. I walk down the hallway quickly. I am in the bathroom when I remember Porter is no longer in his room. There is no competition for the bathroom. The idea is concerning. Porter is annoying and overprotective, but he is also my best friend.

Yeah, we hate each other, but it is rooted in love. And the fact that he takes long showers, which is something I wish I did not notice. It really is none of my business.

A short shower later, I dress in a pair of dark jeans and a blue, pink, and white button-up. I use a towel to remove as much of the mud as I can from my new boots. As my mother calls again, I am satisfied with my work. It is not perfect, but the mud blends with the amber color of the boots.

After my morning routine, I grab my phone and worn messenger bag before heading downstairs. I reach the bottom of the stairs to be greeted by the smell of French toast. My boots squeak against the wood floor as I walk down the hallway, taking in the many family pictures against the blue wall. Most of the pictures are of our family, some are paintings of African culture. I love those pieces.

I enter the kitchen to find my father sitting at the white island counter reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee to his lip. I recognize the mug as the brown "world's best dad" mug Porter and I went half on. We ordered it specialized from a company in Beijing. The mug was overpriced, but Porter insisted. Alan loved it, so it worked out in the end.

The counters in the kitchen are made of a white wood with birch counter tops. Dad and Porter spent weeks redoing the counters, occasionally enlisting me when they needed a tool, of which I always got wrong. Mom was, and still is, thrilled by their craftsmanship.

The entire kitchen was redone, including new modern sink faucets, cabinets and stools that match the new counters, and new appliances.

My mom smiles as I enter. The same amber skin as mine glows in the sunlight. I have my father's nose, but her dark brown eyes. Her curly hair hangs to her shoulder, gleaming with moisturizer. Never one to wear a dress, a yellow sweater and pair of jeans suit her just fine. Unlike my father's casual professional button-up and slacks, she seems comfortable.

My dad looks up, greeting me with an annoyingly cheery disposition. The two are uncharacteristically excited. I feign excitement as I open the unnecessarily large metallic smart fridge. I fish through before searching for a bottle of chocolate milk.

"I, uh, forgot to get more chocolate milk." Penny says. "I was in a hurry. I had to get back to the shop to finish a big order."

I nod. "It's cool. I'll grab one at school."

"Your junior year! Our little junior!" Penny says.

She easily bridges the gap between us and grabs me in a bear hug. She gushes as she descends into a saddened tone. Alan stares at us over his cup of coffee. I silently beg him for help. He smirks, watching for a few seconds before prying my nostalgic mother off me.

"Sorry, I just—Porter's gone. You'll be gone in a year. And then what am I going to do?" Patricia asks.

"Hobbies? You've always wanted to bake. Or was that someone else? I've heard good things about baking. Rick Ross swears by it." I ask. "It's my junior year. I could flunk. I could finally prove myself to be the bad child."

"You're already a handful; let's not add to it." Alan says retrieving his coffee. "So, what about colleges? It's time for you to start narrowing them down."

"I was thinking Solstice U, maybe? I mean, it's not like I can leave here." I say without thinking.

Alan almost spits out his coffee, while Penny glares at me. The two have diametrically different reactions to the comment because one knows more than the other. My life is a regular sitcom now.

The truth is, as long as this town is a hotspot of demon activity, I cannot very well go traipsing around the world. It has not dawned on me until this moment how incredibly limited life could be now.

But I need to appease the 'rents.

"I—I just mean, cause we all know Charlotte won't let me go so easily. And Eva! She'll—she could cry. You guys know I hate crying. It makes me...cry."

"I thought you applied to the same schools?" Penny asks.

"We did. But there is no guarantee we'll all get in the same place."

"You can't decide on a college depending on where your friends go." Penny says. "I know you want to be with your friends, but maybe think about separation. It'll be good for you to meet new people."

"I swear that is the opposite of what Drake is literally always saying."

Alan clears his throat, signaling me to wind down on the jokes.

"Fine. I'll be sure to tell my friends you said so."

"She's right." Alan chimes in. "You can't base your future off circumstances happening right now. Your future is yours to shape."

I chuckle. "Yeah, well, destiny has a way of screwing that up."

"Perry!" Penny admonishes.

"Sorry, mom. I should go. If I don't go, I'm going to be late." I kiss her on the cheek. "Nothing is in stone yet. I promise I shall think about all the lovely possibilities. All the debauchery and unscrupulous characters I could meet outside my friend group."

Penny smiles. "Good. That's all I ask. You should eat, though."

"Not hungry. But sounds like a good breakfast-for-dinner type of sitch."

Penny is about to argue when Alan offers to drop me off at school. I waste no time in accepting his offer. He kisses my mother goodbye before we head out. Patricia yells out for us to have a great day as we exit the house. I cannot help but think about the lack of honesty of the situation.

My life is different now. I need to start thinking in terms of being the Zion, not being Perry Bennet.