Velocity by Abigail Boyd

at me.
    “You’re sure everything is hooked up right?” Hugh asked.
    “Oh, I don’t know, this is only my job,” Callie teased, sticking her tongue out at him. He shook his head, smiling for just a second. From his pocket, he pulled out the grounding stone and handed it to me. I laid down and held it to my heart. It seemed slightly heavier than the last time, but it could have been my nerves.
    “Is there a reason why you always lie like Dracula?” Theo teased me.
    “I don’t want it to fall off,” I said.
    I shut my eyes and tried to imagine the Thornhill members standing in their office. But every time I tried to focus on them, my thoughts scattered. I opened my eyes.
    Callie looked at me. “Having trouble?”
    I nodded.
    “How about trying something else? I brought your parents’ school yearbook for you to look at,” she said, handing it to me. I flipped through it, and found the picture of my father on the chess team.
    “That’s good. Thanks.” I handed the yearbook back.
    I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the day when Claire came to my dad, worried about Deana’s rabbit. All of the chess members had been playing games on their separate tables. I imagined someone knocking on the door.
    The firmness of the couch beneath me disappeared, and I was falling again. Then I was staring at my teenage mother standing nervously in the doorway. Her hair was loose and free around her made up face, and she was clutching her purse the way she would many years later.
    All of the boys around the table stood up. Hugh wasn’t kidding about how nerdy he had looked. His plaid shirt was tucked into pants that almost came up to his chin, and his coke bottle glasses made his eyes shrink to the size of peas.
    “Hughie?” she asked meekly, her eyes scanning the room and resting on him. Oh my god, his nickname was Hughie? I laughed inside my head. HUGHIE?
    “Wait, guys,” he said, holding his hand out. He slicked his hair back with a comb, stowing it in his hip pocket, then slid around and strutted over to her.
    “Hey, honey, how are you?” he purred. I rolled my eyes.
    “I’m just fine.” She peered back at the other boys over his shoulder suspiciously. The others had been watching the pair like hawks, but they turned back to their chess boards. Claire caught Hughie’s enraptured gaze again. “I was wondering if you’d meet me somewhere more private after school.”
    He looked like he was going to swallow his tongue. “My place or yours?” he asked. God, dad, you were Velveeta.
    “Yours. I have no one to confide in. I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I can talk to you.”
    His face softened, and I saw that his cool dude facade was mostly for his friends. “Sure, Claire. I feel the same way.”
    “I’d prefer Phil not to know what I’m up to,” she said.
    “That’s all right. About five-thirty okay with you?”
    “Sure.” Then she tilted her head, assessing him. “You’re a strange duck, Hughie.” She poked him on the chin and whisked out the door.
    His face had gone beet red, like he might jump for joy. He turned back to the others and pumped his hands up and down. “I think she likes me, boys!”
    The others boys whooped. I couldn’t help but giggle.
    I wanted to get directly to their little date. I didn’t know if I could, but it was worth a shot. It was a good idea to figure out my limits with the grounding stone. I pictured my paternal grandparents’ home―a small, neat house the color of a robin’s egg with a white picket fence. At least it had been before a construction company had leveled it for condos.
    I imagined my teenage parents meeting up in the yard. I hoped I was doing it right, focusing on the details I could know versus what I couldn’t. The darkness held stubbornly around me, but then light stirred in it like cream in coffee, and I felt myself drawing closer to an image.
    Then I was in the greenery of the back yard, the blue house in the distance. Hugh was