Tera Childs - Sweet Venom

“Is she always so difficult?” Greer asks.

I sigh. “She’s had a tough week.”

“Tell me about it,” Greer says with a laugh. “And that’s not even taking into account the madness you two brought to my door.”

I study her, the image of poised perfection. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect makeup. I wonder if the rest of her life is this perfect, or if it’s just the image.

“What are your parents like?” I ask. It’s a question I can’t ask Gretchen—I don’t need to ask—but I want to know more about Greer too.

“Wonderful,” she replies automatically. Almost like a robot. Then she blinks a few times and admits, “They’re gone a lot. Doing very important jobs and supporting very worthy causes, of course.”

“Of course,” I agree. But I definitely get the subtext.

“They—I—” She breathes in and out purposefully. “I had no idea I was adopted.”

My mouth pulls into a silent Oh. “No wonder you were so shocked to find us on your front step,” I say. “I’ve always known, and it just never entered my mind that you might not.”

“Yes, well—” She straightens her spine and smiles “What about your parents? Are they . . . nice?”

I can’t help but beam. “Oh, they’re great. They’re very loving and supportive and I can’t imagine better parents. And I have a brother named Thane.”

“What kind of name is Thane?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she’s intrigued or appalled.

“The kind he came with,” I say, kind of defensively. “He’s great too.”

“I’m sure.”

This time I can tell she’s mocking me. She has no idea. Maybe she’s okay with parents who are off running businesses and saving the world, with no time left for her, but she shouldn’t make assumptions about anyone else’s parents.

We fall into a kind of awkward silence until, suddenly, she pushes back from the table and stands.

“You know what?” she says, pulling out her wallet and throwing a fifty dollar bill on the table. “Gretchen had the right idea.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I have a busy life,” she says, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “and a bright future. I have an alumnae tea to organize and class president duties and a very busy social calendar. Monsters don’t fit into the plan.”

“What about sisters?” I ask, my voice small, afraid I won’t like the answer.

She looks down at me, her silver eyes cold and empty, and says, “Sisters don’t fit either.”

Then she turns on her very high heels and strides away. I watch, helpless, as she disappears out the front door. She can’t mean that. She can’t walk away, they can’t walk away from this. I mean, we’re sisters. That has to count for something. That has to count for everything.

I drop back into my seat, completely deflated. How could this all go so wrong so fast? How could my sisters—my sisters!—not see how wonderful it is that we’ve found each other after all these years? How can they not see how important it is for us to stick together in this crazy monster-hunting business, especially now that so much is changing? Our lives, and the lives of countless humans, depend on us.

“Your sisters leave?” the waitress asks, eyeing their empty seats.

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “They’re gone.”

I shove my barely touched avocado roll away. My appetite isn’t about to return now. The waitress clears away our plates and I’m left feeling completely alone at a table for three. This isn’t right.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Hours maybe. But all of a sudden, after processing the swirl of sadness, depression, and helplessness, I come to a decision. I’m done watching things happen around me. I’m going to take action.

“I can’t let them walk away.”

I push to my feet, leaving my money on the table with Greer’s and Gretchen’s—that’ll be one very happy waitress when she counts her tips—and head out onto the sidewalk with a sense of purpose. They may think they can go back to the way things always were, to pretend that we never met, but everything has changed. And I’m going to make them see that.

I don’t know how, for sure, but I will not sit by and let my long-lost sisters vanish back into oblivion.

Grace

By the time I get to my apartment building, I have the rudimentary basics of a plan. Tomorrow after school I will go to Gretchen’s as usual, like I’ve been doing for a week. I will convince her that I still need to be trained, just in case I slip up or a monster recognizes me. She feels responsible for my safety, so that shouldn’t be impossible. Then, once I’ve got her back on board, I’ll convince her we need to train Greer for the same reason. It’s perfect.

In fact, I’m feeling so optimistic that I decide to be proactive about one more thing in my life. Sitting down on one of the white concrete benches in the courtyard, I pull out my phone and search for Milo’s number—which I might have accidentally kinda saved when I overheard him giving it to Thane.

I pause to take a deep breath before punching the call button.

If I’m going to be brave in some areas of my life, I might as well be brave in all of them.

It rings twice before he answers. “Hello?”

I almost hang up.

“Um, hi, Milo.” I bite my lip and then blurt, “It’s Grace, Thane’s sister.”

“Oh, hey Grace,” he says, like he’s happy to hear from me. “What’s up?”

My insides kind of melt. Even though I’m pretty sure I’m going to hork on the perfectly manicured grass, I say, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you heard from Thane?” Okay, so it’s going to take me a minute to build up the courage.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Milo says, sounding uncomfortable. “He ran out to, um, get new laces. For his—”

“I know he’s not there, Milo,” I say to relieve his stress. “I was just wondering if you knew where he’d gone.”

“No,” he says, his voice back to normal. “No clue. Just asked me to promise to cover for him if it came up.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks,” he says, and I can picture his grin. “But I’m an epic failure at lying.”

I laugh. “Me too.”

Something we have in common. That makes me feel a little more at ease with Milo. And a little more ready to ask the real question I called to pose.

“Would you—” Oh no, I was wrong. I can’t do it. I can’t, I can’t, I— “Do you want to go out sometime?”

I smack my hand over my mouth after the blurted question, as if I can take it back. In the moments of silence afterward, my hopes sink lower and lower.

Finally, he sighs.

I drop my head into my hand. Great, Grace. Just great. That’s what you get for being bold, for taking the initiative and not sitting around waiting for things to happen. A giant slap in the face, that’s what.

“I wanted to ask you out first.”

I jerk upright. “What?”

“I was getting up the guts,” he says. “But you beat me to it.”

“Really?” I practically sob. Relief courses through every last inch of my bloodstream. “Really really?”

“Yes, really.” He laughs, and I can’t help but laugh too. “How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is—” I remember my plan to talk to Gretchen. I don’t want to put that off any longer than I have to. “I have an, um, appointment right after school,” I say. “But maybe after that?”

“Perfect,” he says. “How about I stop by your place after soccer practice?”

No, bad idea. Then Mom will wonder why Thane isn’t with him, and we’ll have to either lie or tell her what we know.

“How about we meet at the dim sum place?” I suggest, hoping there’s no repeat of the minotaur sighting. Knowing that even if there is, I can handle it. “At six o’clock?”

“It’s a date.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

I’m sure Mom will forgive me missing another dinner for a date—a date!—with Milo. We say good night, and I head inside. I’m positively bouncing as I push through the apartment door.

“You missed dinner,” Mom says.

She is clearing the dining table.

I drop my backpack by the door and then take the stack of dishes from her hands. “Oh, sorry, the study session ran late,” I say, the now-familiar lie slipping easily off my tongue. “We ordered sushi.”

“Next time let me know, please,” she says. She’s trying to sound like a cool mom who doesn’t make her kid call home every two seconds, but I hear the undertone of concern. I’m not sure which would be worse: the truth of where I’ve been or the worst-case scenario of what she might imagine I’ve been doing. Hopefully she’ll never find out.

“I promise.” I can’t stop grinning. It takes all my self-control not to tell her about my date with Milo. But I can’t risk her asking about Thane.

As I help her do the dishes, mindlessly drying every piece she hands me, I think more about my plan to bring my sisters and me back together. I start reciting phrases in my head, trying them out so they’re perfect when I use them on Gretchen tomorrow. This feels like the most important thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t want to leave anything to chance.

And then I’ll have my date with Milo.

“Everything okay?” she asks, handing me a wet glass.

For a heartbeat I want to say no. I want to tell her what’s been going on, about my sisters and the monsters and how I’m a descendant of a mighty guardian. She’s my mom and, no matter how clichéd it sounds, my best friend. All my life I’ve told her everything, from crushes to betrayals to worrying to failures. And she’s always listened with a patient and nonjudgmental ear. Even when I told her about my disastrous first kiss in the back of the bus on my freshman end-of-the-year field trip.

But I can’t tell her this. I can’t tell her any of this.

Just the part about finding my sisters could break her heart, to know that I’ve found some of my blood family. I know she’d be happy for me, but she and Dad try so hard to be more than enough. I love and care about her too much to do that to her.

“Yeah,” I finally say. “Everything’s fine.”

It’s better this way.

“Your father’s working late again,” she says, and I can hear the disappointment in her voice. He’s been working so much at the new job that we barely see him. Of course, she barely sees me anymore, either. And now Thane won’t even be around to keep her from feeling lonely. I hope he comes home soon.

She asks, “Would you mind taking out the trash?”

Hanging my wet towel on the stove handle, I say, “No problem.”

I’m gone so much lately; the least I can do is help out with chores when I’m here. I start for the trash can but then turn back. Walking up behind Mom, I wrap my arms around her waist. “I love you.”

She turns around in my arms, wrapping her own around my shoulders. “I love you too, Grace.”

I pull away when I feel tears tingle in my eyes. Don’t want her thinking I’m upset when I’m really not. Could a girl get any luckier? I have two parents and a brother who love me as much as humanly possible. I’ve been—whether they like it or not—reunited with my two long-lost sisters. And I’m a bit of a mythological superhero who keeps the world safe from monsters.

Even dragging a big bag of garbage to the huge bins behind our apartment building can’t sink my mood or my determination to make everything work out okay with my sisters. And I have a date with Milo! If I weren’t below a whole bank of bedroom windows, I’d shout that news into the night.

I’m so caught up in my mental cheering that I don’t hear a sound in the alley. The smell radiating from the garbage overpowers any other odors on the air. It’s not until I sense a shadow passing over me, blocking the glow from the streetlight above, that I know I’m not alone.

I spin around just as the enormous bear rears up, its huge, meaty paws swiping down through the air toward my neck. I feel the scrape of claw against skin. A scream catches in my throat.

Greer

Good riddance to would-be sisters, I think as I unbuckle the ankle straps on my new shoes. I had a voice mail from Kelly Anne letting me know she charged my account and that I can come by anytime to pick up my espadrilles. These really are the most comfortable heels ever. I skipped the bus home from the sushi bar, opting to walk off my frustration instead. Between getting myself to Gretchen’s loft and back home, I must have walked three miles in them, and my feet feel as fresh as ever.