Page 63 of Creatures of Chaos

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for one night everything is perfect.

Twenty-Two

The next morning,things are not so perfect. After getting my hand stitched, my parents catch me sneaking back into the house only a few minutes before dawn. Mom notices my gauze-wrapped hand right away. I try to feed her the excuse Becks and I came up with, that I went out for a run because I couldn’t sleep and tripped and punctured my hand on a spiked fence post when I tried to catch myself. But the excuse is weak at best and doesn’t hold up to my parents’ scrutiny. So when my lie falls apart, they ground me for two weeks by taking away my phone, banning me from the computer except for school related work, and informing me the only places I can go for the next weeks are our house, school, and the shop. No afterschool workouts at Peet’s Gym, no hangouts with Ensley, no dinners with Becks. I want to argue, but how can I when they are justified in their actions? So I take the punishment with a somber nod and start to get ready for school.

“Can you pass the milk?” I ask Mom a little later that morning when we are sitting at the kitchen table after I’ve had a shower and changed into clean clothes.

Frowning, she picks up the carton and hands it to me. I make the mistake of reaching for it with my bandaged hand, and her frown deepens and her eyes well. My heart squeezes. I love my parents. I want to say something to make the situation better, to take away the wounded look on her face, but there’s nothing to say to make this better. She knows I’m not telling the truth, and the truth is the one thing I can’t offer her right now.

We eat the rest of our breakfast in silence, then she leaves to do some early morning work in the shop before it opens. Dad comes into the kitchen as I’m rinsing my cereal bowl, being careful not to get the fresh wrappings wet. When I look up at him, there’s disappointment shining in his eyes, and I can’t even blame him for it. I’ve been lying and feeding half-truths to them for weeks, and that isn’t us. We don’t lie to each other like this, but the crux of the matter is that even if I wanted to confess that I entered Chaos and put myself in danger, the magical gag would keep me from doing so.

The weight of their sadness and disapproval is crushing, wiping away any lingering joy from my night with Becks.

When I finish and turn to leave and head to Nightlark, my dad stops me.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” he asks, his voice gruff yet filled with concern.

I don’t want to lie to them anymore, but I don’t have a choice.

“No, nothing like that. Everything’s okay, Dad.”

I can tell immediately that he doesn’t buy it. “You can tell us anything, Locklyn. We’ll always be on your side. If you’ve gotten yourself into something you can’t seem to get out of, we’re here to help you. I hope you know that.”

Dad’s reassurances hit a little too close for comfort, but he’ll never have any idea how badly I want to confess to him right now. I have to swallow around the giant lump in my throatbefore I can talk. “Yeah, Dad, I know. I’m fine, I promise,” I lie, and then force a smile I’m sure isn’t very convincing.

Dad heaves a sigh. It’s obvious he knows I’m hiding something. “Then I guess we’ll see you directly after classes today,” he says, a not-so-subtle reminder that I’m grounded.

I nod and slip by him, grabbing my backpack on the way out of the apartment.

If my morning wasn’t hard enough, the stares from my classmates as I walk down the hallway to my locker later remind me of my embarrassing confession the night before. I’m tense as I wait for someone to bring it up, throwing my own insecurities in my face. My words the night before were like chum in the water, and I’m expecting the sharks to start circling any minute.

“Hey,” Shayla says, coming up beside me at my locker. I flinch away from her, bracing for condemnation, but when her brows pinch at my reaction, all she asks is, “Are you all right?”

Some of the tension leaves my body when I look into her concerned hazel eyes. She’s not turning on me. She’s not here to ridicule me.

“Sorry. I’m just on edge this morning. But I’m all right,” I say as I heft my bag over my shoulder and then shut my locker.

She smiles and nods, her delicate braids swinging gently with the movement. “I get it. Last night was intense. You had me really worried there for a few minutes. I’m glad you made it through though.” She takes a step closer and lowers her voice. “And I wanted to let you know that what you said last night under compulsion . . . it was actually pretty cool.”

Come again?

I look at Shayla, searching for any hint of insincerity, but her face is open and free of malice. She’s serious.

“What do you mean?” I tentatively ask.

“It’s just that you’re not the only one that feels that way, but no one wants to admit it. I get you’re probably feeling prettyexposed right now, but you should know that it was nice to hear I’m not the only one who thinks those things, is all.” She shrugs almost awkwardly, and it occurs to me right then, for maybe the first time ever, that my fears and insecurities might not be unique to me, that I’m not the only one out there who struggles with self-doubt.

Shayla is a powerful panther shifter. I’m not sure what type of magic she has, but her reflexes are sharp and she’s super strong. I would never have guessed she feels insecure about herself, but something I said last night resonated with her, and that blows my mind.

Before I can respond, her boyfriend, Owen, comes up next to her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She glances up at him and smiles, and he drops a quick kiss on her lips before turning to me.

“Hey, Locklyn.” He gives me a quick nod. “How’s the hand?”

I blink back at him as he waits for me to respond. I don’t pick up any negative vibes from Owen either. I thought for sure I’d lose the new friends I made after my confession last night, but maybe I was wrong. Wrong about my friends, and wrong about myself.

“Does it hurt?” Owen prompts when I don’t say anything.

“Oh, right. My hand,” I say as I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “It’s not too bad. Becks took me to get it stitched up last night. They don’t think I’ll have permanent damage.”

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