Sidetracked: Part 1 Read online

  She’s a great cook, but I’m distracted.

  Lying to Rose has bothered me all afternoon. Lying about Ice’s secret and why I’m staying at his house and where he went. I know hanging out with the twins won’t suck, but I’m still lying to her, and I will never be able to stop because she can’t know the truth.

  And it’s not fair.

  Clearing my throat, I glance up from my plate. “Can I ask a question? About immortals?”

  “Oh?” Night seems surprised, but she smiles. “Of course. Go ahead.”

  “Why is it a secret?”

  Her smile falters. Smoke glances at her, but she remains focused on me. She doesn’t seem to notice her twin’s inquiring gaze and remains quiet. Watching me. Thinking.

  Then she sighs. “Honestly, Jayde, I don’t know. It’s always been this way. There’s no record of any major conflicts between immortals and humans, but our existence has always been kept quiet. Or so we’ve been told.”

  “How, though? Immortals have an entire government agency.”

  “A few, actually,” she says, glancing away. “Human-Immortal Affairs is only one of the US agencies, and there are more internationally. I’m sure plenty of humans in the government have high enough clearance to know about immortals.”

  “So, only the public isn’t supposed to know?”

  “I suppose they think it’s easier that way.”

  “Easier?”

  She frowns. “I don’t particularly know how it works.”

  “It’s politics,” Smoke says with a shrug. “There’s nothing folks like us can do about it.”

  My first instinct is to argue with him, but I recall the Secrecy Agreement, and I change my mind.

  sixteen

  WHY AM I SO NERVOUS?

  The solstice event is neutral territory. It’s open to the public, both human and immortal, so it won’t be weird for either of us to be there.

  It’s just...

  What if Night’s friends don’t like me? She said they’re cool with me being human, and Smoke backed her up, but do they think it’s weird that I know the secret? Will they treat me differently?

  It doesn’t help that Ice hasn’t responded to most of my texts. I asked about his drive yesterday, and he said it was fine—he was safe at his hotel by 5PM—but he didn’t answer when I asked how he was doing a few hours ago. He hasn’t even read the message.

  Night told me not to worry.

  I am trying. But it’s not so simple.

  Well...

  We’re at the park, and I’m still nervous.

  I leave the car and walk alongside Night, crossing the packed parking lot with Smoke in tow. We pass a few food trucks near the bathroom pavilion, and we enter the park proper, where at least two dozen children run around and play on the playground. A large RIVERVIEW SUMMER SOLSTICE FESTIVAL banner hangs on the side of the park’s main pavilion, but there aren’t too many people around.

  The event officially begins at 4PM. We’re a little early.

  Most of the vendor booths along the walking path look like they’ll sell crafts of some sort, but none are open for business yet. At the pavilion, several large coolers are set up on picnic tables. A soda fountain. Local wine sampling, maybe. People are still busy preparing for the evening.

  Down the hill, the pop-up bandstand looks ready for a band—microphones, lights, speakers, the works. No one is playing, but a large group gathers to the left of the stage.

  I’ve heard of these events before—they’re held every solstice and equinox—but this is my first time in attendance. I usually stick to Music@ThePark. This looks similar, but I’m not quite sure what to expect.

  “Are your friends here already?” I ask Night as she surveys the vendor stalls from afar.

  She nods and points down the hill, toward the stage. “They should be down there. Carmen’s boyfriend is in one of the bands.”

  “Oh?”

  “A bunch of local indie groups play this gig,” Smoke says. “That’s the appeal—the vendors and bands are all local.”

  Night smiles. “These festivals are all about celebrating the season and supporting the local community.”

  She offers to introduce me to her friends before the park gets crowded, so we take the nearest path leading downhill.

  When I ask if the bands playing today are all fronted by immortals, she laughs at me for covering my mouth as I spoke. But she shrugs, not having a real answer. I guess it’s another thing that doesn’t matter when it comes to this event.

  The exact level of separation between humans and immortals still confuses me. We live together in the same town, and there isn’t any obvious distinction when it comes to the places either group frequents. Humans visit the mall. Immortals visit the mall. Humans attend RCC. Immortals attend RCC. Riverside Park and the solstice festival are the same, but the fact she explicitly described it as “mixed company” leads me to believe there are places and events not open to both.

  Maybe I’ll understand one day. Maybe Ice will explain more when he gets back from Seattle. Or I can ask Night later.

  We approach the large group. Several vans and other vehicles are parked in the grass closer to the trees along the riverbank, and three pop-up canopies are set up beside them. Night leads me straight into the crowd. A few heads shift to look at us.

  Then she calls a name—Carmen!—and a young woman with bright blue hair glances over. Her violet eyes light up when she spots us, and she breaks away from the crowd to give Night a tight hug.

  “Night, Smoke; it’s so good to see you guys!”

  Her voice is boisterous and rougher than I expected from someone with such a soft, round face. Her eyeshadow is bright, eyeliner sharp, and lipstick dark. She has a nose piercing—a small gem that matches her hair—as well as a few piercings on her ears. Several jelly wristbands adorn one of her arms, and she wears platform boots, denim shorts, and an unbuttoned vest over a band tee.

  Night returns the greeting, and the girl turns to me.

  “You must be Jayde,” she says. “Night told me all about you.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope.”

  Her answering smile is genuine, but she laughs harder than she probably should.

  Someone taps her shoulder, and her head turns. Ah, these two must be related. The second girl has long, dark brown hair, kept out of her face with a headband made of silk flowers. Her makeup is understated, and her loose, linen sundress is fashion-forward and looks super comfortable.

  The two women seem like opposites in taste, but they’re the same height and look incredibly similar otherwise—both gorgeous and confident.

  “Oh! Hey, Nat; Night’s here with her new friend.” Carmen turns to us with a grin. “Jayde, this is my sister, Natalie.”

  “Jayde? The girl Ice told about—?” She trails off and smiles. Her expression is more strained than Carmen’s but not unpleasant. “Oh, sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”

  They totally think it’s weird.

  But I return the sentiment, and I mean it. It is nice to meet more immortals. So far, they all seem like normal people—like anyone else I met before learning about them.

  “Are you busy?” Night asks.

  Carmen pulls a face. “I have to help Lucas with setup and breakdown, but we can hang out after. He’s up at, uh...five-thirty? So any time after like six-fifteen should work. How long are you planning to stay?”

  “Until eight or so.”

  “Is Ice still in Seattle?” Natalie asks.

  Night nods. “For the second time this week.”

  “Haven’t seen him in a couple years. How is he?”

  A beat of silence.

  “The same as always,” Smoke says.

  Carmen cackles. “Well, I should go. I’ll text you when we’re done.”

  She dips back into the mass of people and meets up with a guy of similar aesthetic to Smoke—choppy black hair, dark clothes, and several piercings and tattoos. Her boyfriend, Lucas, I assume.

 
What kind of music does he play?

  The four of us remaining chat about nothing in particular for a while. Then Night suggests we check out the vendor stalls. Smoke stays behind with the growing crowd, and I follow Night and Natalie up the hill.

  The solstice event is officially on. The park is more crowded, and the stalls are open. We take a cursory glance.

  As Smoke and Night said, they’re all local vendors, mainly small businesses. Baked goods. Fresh produce and small-batch canned fruit. Herbs. Candles. Handcrafted gemstone jewelry and leather-bound journals. Expensive but lovely things. A table selling honey products has a thin beehive with dozens of bees crawling behind glass on display.

  Neat.

  Natalie points out the flower crown vendor. She bought her headband from them during the Spring Equinox festival in March. Night asks if I want one and picks up a headband made of silk roses, but I get embarrassed and refuse.

  Moving on, we buy fresh fruit smoothies from a food truck and sit at a bench off to the side of the walking path. The two girls chat about crafting and ethical consumption and the best native flowers to plant in a pollinator garden. I contribute where I can—I also care about bees—and they both go out of their way to keep me involved in the conversation, but I remain intimidated and strangely isolated.

  Natalie is the careful, delicate type, not unlike Night. It’s obvious why they’re friends. They both love niche fashion and nature and art. They’re passionate about their interests, while I don’t feel too strongly about anything in particular, and I’m...a little jealous.

  LUCAS’ BAND SURPRISED me. I expected it to be a metal band, but it’s not. Well, not exactly. It might be a subgenre of metal, but they have a female vocalist with a crisp voice, and the instrumentals are slower and softer and more soulful with a subtle Celtic twang.

  The first band was Celtic-flavored too—though more explicitly so. Will the other artists be similar? Maybe that’s the point. The event’s general energy is folksy and mystical, almost. Eclectic and artsy. A little witchy.

  It’s a different vibe than Music@ThePark, but I don’t hate it.

  Smoke meets up with us after the set, and we wait with Natalie while Carmen helps the band move their equipment offstage. The breakdown takes ten minutes, and she jogs over to us with her boyfriend once they’re done.

  “Jayde, Lucas. Lucas, Jayde,” she says breathlessly. She brushes wayward strands of blue hair out of her face and grins. “I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat.”

  The six of us wander around the parking lot full of food trucks. While we deliberate what to eat, I learn more interesting things about Night’s friends.

  Lucas’ band, in which he is the bassist, is for fun. A hobby. By trade, he’s an apprentice piercer and tattoo artist. Carmen pushes her right sleeve up to show off a colorful celestial scene he tattooed on her upper arm a few months back. He also dated Smoke some years ago, and they’re still good friends.

  Carmen attends a local beauty college and took a few business classes at RCC last year. She wants to open her own hair salon.

  Natalie has been working and going to RCC part-time since graduation. She doesn’t know exactly what she wants to do yet, but she designs and sews clothing as a hobby. Night owns a few of her custom pieces.

  When they ask me about myself, I don’t know what to say.

  But I talk about my education plans, anyway. I admit I have no idea where I want to transfer after I complete my associate degree. Somewhere in California to save on tuition, for sure, but I don’t have a real preference. I need to look into it more.

  We get our food, our group having split orders between three different food trucks, and walk down the path through the park for a while. Then Night points out an empty picnic table beneath the shade of a maple tree. There’s enough room for all six of us. I sit at the end of one bench.

  Night sits to my left.

  Carmen plants herself directly across from me. Our eyes meet. I haven’t said anything, but her interest is already piqued.

  “So,” she says, “I didn’t ask earlier ‘cause there were folks around, but how’d you get in with immortals? I know Ice told you, but that’s about it.”

  Four faces watch me in expectant silence. Smoke doesn’t seem to care in the least, but the others are focused on me. Even Night. I get the impression that, no matter what she told me, it is extremely unusual for normal humans to know about immortals.

  I’m not a high-ranking government official with the security clearance to know these things. I’m nobody. I’m just a college student—and technically still a teenager.

  “Ice told me about a week ago,” I say. “Not gonna lie; I didn’t believe him at first. Until he turned into a cat right in front of me.”

  Carmen laughs. “He morphed? Oh, no! I don’t blame you for not believing it. Must sound crazy to someone on the outside. Anyway, you and Ice are friends, or—?”

  Friends? Ha.

  “Not sure,” I admit. “We’ve gone on a few dates, and now this, but that’s all. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

  Her smile hitches up on one side. “Yeah? Gotta say, I’m surprised he’d get involved with a human at all, but I can’t blame you for being interested. Haven’t seen him in a while, but, from what I remember, he’s damn hot.”

  With a glance at Lucas, she laughs and apologizes, but he rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his wrap.

  The conversation shifts back to the mundane.

  I follow along and contribute where I can, but I hate being the stranger among a group of close friends. Carmen is boisterous and blunt while Natalie is reserved and low-energy. Lucas watches and listens more than he speaks, even compared to Smoke, but he strikes me as a laid-back person.

  I want to be friends with them—all of them. But I don’t know how to approach people like this. The gap between us is so wide. They’re a tight-knit group of friends and siblings who’ve known each other for years. They share dumb inside jokes that leave me feeling lost, and they’re so comfortable with each other.

  But I’m new and different and human.

  How can I bridge the gap?

  “You guys have special abilities too, right?” I ask.

  The table falls quiet. Then Carmen lights up.

  “For sure,” she says before holding a finger to her lips. “But I like to keep mine a secret. Because it’s so cool, obviously.”

  This time Natalie rolls her eyes. “I can shape water. I can’t, um...create water, but I can make it do things.”

  She takes a sticker-covered bottle out of her small, canvas backpack and pours a splash of water onto the table. Her finger brushes the surface, and it rises off the table as a tiny orb. It only moves a couple inches before she shakes her hand, and the water splashes onto the painted wood.

  I’m sorry, but that’s actual magic.

  I glance around—though, I don’t notice any bystanders watching. “Is it okay to do that in public?”

  “Not really,” she says mildly.

  Night and Carmen nod in partially feigned solemn agreement while Natalie mops up the tiny puddle with a paper napkin. It was cool, but I’m not sure why I thought immortal abilities were the best thing to bring up at a crowded park.

  “Well, please don’t do anything that might get you in trouble.”

  Natalie laughs and brushes her long hair over one shoulder. “It’s a secret, sure, but it’s only a problem if you get caught. A drop of water is nothing.”

  Are all immortals so dismissive about it?

  “Sooo,” Carmen says. She folds her arms over the table as she watches me with a deep curiosity. “What’s it like being human?”

  I blink. “It’s like, um— Well, what’s it like not being human?”

  “Fair point,” she says with a laugh. “I guess it’s basically the same thing, right? You’ve probably talked to tons of us without even realizing it. A lot of profs at RCC are immortals, you know.”

  “No way!”

 
I can’t remember any of their faces well enough. A couple of my instructors may have had lavender or amber eyes. The golden honey color stuck out to me even in the photographs I saw while scrolling through Night’s friend list. My writing instructor in fall term had the same eyes, I think.

  He was very handsome...

  Rose and I had the class together, and she went on about him the entire term. Was he really an immortal, though? Are any of Rose’s friends immortals? Were any of her hook-ups immortals?

  So weird!

  I’ll check her FaceSpace later.

  Wait— Maybe I should check mine.

  I resist the urge to grab my phone, choosing to laugh at another joke instead. Even if they still think it’s strange that I know about immortals, I’m glad I came.

  seventeen

  HANGING OUT WITH THE twins and meeting a few of their friends was a nice change of pace compared to the sitting alone at home I would have done otherwise, but I am more than ready to hear what Ice has to say after his trip to Seattle. In his last message, sent about an hour ago, he mentioned passing through Redding.

  It’s late—after 10PM—but he should be here any time now.

  Night and I have sat across from each other at the glass dining table ever since Ice sent that message. She’s been visibly antsy for a while, putting me on edge as well. And he never answered when I asked how things went.

  “He’s pulling up now,” she says.

  She turns to the bay window, and I follow her gaze.

  A silver car stops in front of the house. The headlights shut off, but the red taillights stay on as it idles on the curb.

  Night sighs. “I wonder if he’ll be hungry.”

  “Has he said anything to you about what he did up there?”

  “No,” she says with a short laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you know more than I do.”

  And I know nothing.

  We sit at the table for a few minutes in relative silence. The car is still idling outside. Then the red glow goes out, and I hear a car door slam shut.