The Line That Binds by J.M. Miller Page B

to check in with Pop.
    “How’d it go?” he asked from the couch with his feet kicked up, watching a cooking show and eating ice cream.
    “Good,” I replied, heading to my room for my biking gear.
    Pop’s bald head turned to me when I returned to the living room. “Did she ask about the well?”
    “Actually, she did,” I said, watching his face drop. “But, she was only curious because of all the paintings in the house.”
    “Oh, right.” His eyes darted to the single well painting above our fireplace. “Did you talk to her?”
    “Sure. We talked.”
    “What’s she like? Is she nice?”
    “Surprisingly.” I replied, pulling my riding jacket on.
    “Why so surprised? She’s Genie’s great-niece, after all.”
    “Well, they were blood, but that doesn’t always matter,” I added, knowing he’d understand my subliminal jab at my father.
    He frowned, his white mustache stretching to meet the edge of his jaw. “You shouldn’t be so cynical, Ben. There will always be people that care more about themselves than they do about others, but you have to know that some people truly care. Genie did. She was the one that gave me the courage to bring you here, even though she knew she’d lose a little piece of herself doing it.”
    I nodded, though it was hard to agree. I didn’t fully believe the curse so I couldn’t credit Janine with granting him courage. What I did know was she treated me well and helped Pop through my custody process. I’d always be grateful for that.
    When it came to meeting new people, I was always restrained. Trust was a challenge because I’d been ditched enough to know the odds. That’s why, after Harper died, I never cared about keeping or building relationships. I had two friends, Spaz and Izzy. I trusted them enough to be comfortable with their friendship. Everyone else were blips of time, not important. They all had their own agenda anyway and didn’t care to stick around, like most girls I’d hooked up with, namely Emily.
    “I’ll be out back,” I said, grabbing my helmet and heading to the door.
    “Ben,” he said after I’d opened the door. I looked over at his saddened face. I’d seen this face too often in the years leading to Janine’s death. “Be careful.”
    “Sure,” I replied automatically to his standard warning before my rides. This time, though, the words felt heavier, as if they meant much more.
    The sun had fallen behind the trees, shrouding the ground in darkness and streaking the sky’s clouds with tints ranging from orange to purple. A crisp hint of autumn filled my nose as I inhaled, a prelude to colder temps. I looked up toward LJ’s room and was surprised to see her silhouette in the glass, blocking the room’s glow behind her. The colored sky dimly lit her face, which was looking down at me.
    I pulled my helmet on and kept walking, afraid I’d do something stupid, like wave to her.

 
     
     
    “What do you want me to tell you?” I asked Dad when we pulled into the driveway Friday afternoon.
    He let the wheel slide beneath his hands as it straightened itself. “I just want to know what’s going on with you, with Gavin.” He sighed.
    Since Gavin rode the bus and I hadn’t found a ride, Dad had been my acting chauffeur all week. The trips to and from school were quiet. Evidently, all the silence was getting under his skin. But I wasn’t in the mood to appease him with mindless chitchat. It had been a long week, and I was tired; tired from an excessive amount of paranoia at school, tired from the physical demands of my new job, and tired of not knowing who I was. I didn’t know what to do or who to be. I hid from socializing at school, but I craved the small interactions with Ben in the afternoon. For some reason, it felt like he’d be okay to talk to. He seemed real, which was a nice change from the guys I knew in Summerlin who were so full of crap I could smell their lies from miles away. I also couldn’t help staring at him when he