The Pentrals by Crystal Mack Page B

or—
    “Hello ladies.” Ben swoops in out of nowhere.
    “Hey,” I reply gratefully.
    “Samantha,” he says, nodding her way. Her expression grows hard.
    “Benjamin,” she replies, through clenched teeth.
    Sensing tension, he turns his attention to me. “So Violet, are you and Thomas coming over—“
    “Um, excuse me!” Sam interrupts. “We were talking here.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry Sam, didn’t realize you found time to function in between Lifts! ,” he retorts.
    “Bite me, Ben,” she snaps back.
    “Hmm, no thanks, I’d rather avoid a contact high.” I struggle not to laugh. Of course his comment was rude, but it does not mean it was not true. Sam murmurs something offensive under her breath then turns to me, “See you in physics, Violet.”
    “Yeah,” I say, forcing a thin smile. Once she is out of earshot, I turn to Ben. “Thanks for playing hero back there. I needed an out.”
    “Hero, huh?” Ben says, clearly pleased. “I thought only super-powered Thomas got to save the day. Isn’t Samantha your new best friend anyway?”
    Honestly, I cannot say for sure what Sam is to Violet. For most of their interactions, I was trapped in a blur, unable to see clearly. Maybe the two had forged a relationship, but in my opinion, any person who would knowingly drag someone down like that is not a real friend. “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. We start walking together.
    “Well, she’s not that bad. I know her a bit. Still, I like to give her a hard time,” he says.
    “As you do.”
    “As I do.” He gives a mischievous little half smile. I cannot remember a time when he and Violet talked just the two of them. Surely there must have been opportunities—they have known each other so long—but usually Thomas or Mary hung around as well. I have lingering frustration with Ben for freezing Violet out before, but things have begun to thaw a bit. He is not completely revolting, after all. In fact, before this summer, I always appreciated Ben for his snarky sense of humor and ability to play peacemaker.
    I think back to the night of Mary’s accident. Ben roamed the hospital halls, as if his sister was concealed in a game in hide-and-seek, not medical trauma. Usually quick with a sarcastic remark, he was completely speechless, wrecked with pain. I watched from below as he transformed from a self-assured young man to a little lost boy. It reminded me of one of my first encounters with Ben, at Mrs. Kelly’s funeral.
    Ben had only just been adopted by the Kellys when she passed away. I wasn’t privy to the details of her death; the girls were too young to talk about it with each other so I remained in the dark. It was an impossible situation to shadow; Violet had never experienced such a trauma before, and I didn’t know how she would react. I wasn’t sure if I should be ready to replicate hysterical crying or quiet mourning.
    The funeral was drenched in darkness. A relentless rain poured at the gravesite, the congregation’s tears merging with the showers. Everyone was dressed in black, so for once my dark shape was not just an outline, but a real representation of the scene. We stood, silently, as a preacher spoke about Mrs. Kelly’s life. I knew her, sort of, through times spent running through the Kellys’ house with Violet and Mary, but my interactions with her were limited.
    The least acquainted with her was Ben. He stood with the crowd, hands jammed into his pockets, trying to figure out what to do with himself. Everyone was weeping, offering farewells, but he held back, no memories to share or emotions to display. It was difficult to watch, and it took a very long time for him to crawl out of whatever protective shell he’d wrapped himself up in.
    And now, it seems like he’s trying once again to get himself back on track. We walk and talk a bit more before I find myself at Mr. West’s door. “This is my stop.”
    “Physics?” he says with confusion. Violet’s distaste for science