So I Tried to Write a Next Generation Story

Chapter 10: Torrin

"Emmy!" Stina scolded. "What have you done this time?"

Torrin sighed. Having an annoying little sister was such a pain. He knew it was even worse for Kai—who could read everyone's emotions at a distance—and that made him feel guilty about complaining, but it was true. Emmy was always messing something up and whenever his grandmother came over...sometimes Torrin wished he had an excuse to leave like Kai did.

His parents had said that he didn't have to stay, but Torrin would feel terrible if he left his mom and dad to face Vika's wrath. He wanted to protect them, even if it was ridiculous of him to feel that way.

Emmy didn't seem to understand the chaos that encircled the family. She didn't know the meaning of the words "bad match." Maybe that was why she caused so much trouble. Or maybe six-year-olds always caused trouble.

"Just talking to Callie," Emmy said.

"Don't call me Callie," came Callista's voice. Torrin caught the faint smell of smoke and shuddered. He didn't know why he disliked fire so much—it wasn't like he'd experienced a traumatizing incident or anything—but it was really awkward when one of your close friends was a Pyrokinetic.

"Okay, Callie," Emmy said.

Callista snapped something that Torrin couldn't understand. "Practicing my Trollish," she said by way of explanation. "Torrin, what are you doing all the way over there?"

Torrin shrugged, walking over to Callista, trying to ignore the smoke still hanging around her. "What did you say?"

"A horrible insult." Callista leaned in and whispered, "Actually, I just said, 'You kraken.'"

"That is an insult."

"Not to trolls," Callista explained. "It's just the closest thing to an insult I know."

Torrin laughed. "You gotta learn some horrible Troll insults and teach them to me. I'd love to yell them at my grandparents."

Callista winced.

"I don't need to be an Empath like Kai to know you're feeling sorry for me," Torrin complained. "It's not your fault."

Callista shrugged. Torrin knew that she felt bad that half of Torrin's grandparents never missed a chance to scold their daughter about how "you being a bad match is a stain on our reputation," and other lovely phrases, while she had four awesome grandparents.

She should know that I don't care. Whenever I need to spend time with grandparents, I can go to my dad's parents' house, Torrin thought, knowing he was lying to himself about the first part. He cared.

A lot.

But that didn't matter.

Sometimes Torrin wished he could be more like Callista. She wasn't afraid to show what she was feeling. He almost couldn't bear it when Kai or his mom read his emotions and asked what was wrong.

"Torrin?" Callista said, and he realized that she'd asked him a question. "Do you want ripplefluffs?" she repeated.

"Obviously," Torrin said.

"I thought maybe you felt like all the ripplefluffs would remember you turning one of them into mush and would all conspire to make every dessert you ate disgusting," Callista teased.

"If I remember correctly, you gave me a soup-dunking like River. I think the ripplefluffs think I've suffered enough," Torrin answered.

"Maybe...Anyways, here's one." Callista passed Torrin a pink-tinted pastry, her expression twisting in a way Torrin didn't want to interpret. "We should stop talking about this stuff in the doorway. I bet your neighbors don't want to see the freaky Pyrokinetic twin standing right here in the hall." Torrin could hear the bitterness in Callista's voice.

"Come to my room. Other than Dad's workshop, it's the calmest place in the house." Torrin pointed.

As they were walking, Callista said, "Do you ever get tired of grown-ups? Specifically, the Councilors?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Torrin said.

"I was spying on my parents last night and Dad said he thought that the Council would have fixed the matchmaking system by now. And let Talentless into the Nobility. And a dozen other things I can't remember," Callista said.

Torrin shrugged. He'd heard his parents mention most of the same things. "Our parents are weird. Most of the elves want to keep things the same."

"Yes, I know." Small flames flickered around Callista for a moment, and Torrin jumped. "Sorry," she said, and the fire disappeared. "It's so annoying sometimes. This probably sound weird, but...sometimes I wish they would kick off all the Councilors. Maybe then someone would be elected who wants to fix things."

"Even Councilor Cliff?" Torrin asked. Less than a year ago, Councilor Zarina had resigned and her replacement seemed pretty cool to Torrin, though he didn't have much to base that claim on, other than he was a Technopath, the first one ever elected to the Council. Torrin's dad had been so excited.

"I don't know. It's not like I know anything about this, but..."

"Why isn't Jaye here, too?"

"He's in trouble."

"What'd he do this time?"

"He filled the dining room with sasquatch hair. Where he got all of it, I have no idea."

And just like that, the weird conversation topic disappeared. Torrin couldn't say he was upset about it.