Page 4 of Anomalies

Catherine and Merrill got small stipends from the government for taking in an orphan, and that money is the only reason they kept me, but Gods, sometimes I wish they’d left me there.

Be grateful, they’d say, even when my bedroom door was ripped off its hinges and even when the sleeves of my shirt weren’t long enough to cover the bruises on my wrists.

Be grateful we didn’t let you freeze in the late winter snow.

But…maybe they should have.

2

LUCINA

The sun is setting as we pass through town, taking the main street through the heart of the city. Small shops and diners are lively with music and laughter, restaurant seats spilling out over the sidewalks. String lights hang between streetlamps, illuminating the worn brick buildings. The air is hot and sticky, rolling off my sunglasses and tussling my hair like a kiss from the coastline, leaving behind a salty residue so thick I can taste it.

The majority of East Draycott is coastline, at least fifteen miles of white sandy beaches, hugged by the swelling waters of Orto Bay. The Barrier borders the bay, the shimmering boundary tempting me even a hundred feet from the shoreline. It protects us from the Savage Sea—thousands of restless leagues that could sink ships and swallow survivors with a single crest of a frigid wave.

A silent death.

I think that’s what I’d want. Water sloshing through my ears loud enough to quiet my thoughts as the deep rumble of the ocean pulses around me, slower and slower, matching the tune to my heavy heart as I float lifeless to the bottom. However deep it goes.

But I’m sure I won’t have a say in death; Fate’s a bitch when she wants to be, and she doesn’t seem to like me all that much.

Ivy slams on her brakes, and I lurch forward, my seatbelt yanking taut; a vital accessory if you plan on surviving a car ride with Miss what's-the-point-of-a-blinker.

A young boy has chased a bright yellow balloon out in the middle of the street; his neatly pressed khakis and smoothed back hair tell me he’s from the West side of town, where their homes are opulent and gated. His mother rushes out to get him, her navy blue and white sundress crisp and her designer perfume cutting through the salt-dusted air. She tosses a scowl over her shoulder at Ivy as she gently ushers the boy out of the street, his balloon floating up higher by the second.

Ivy curses, edging her foot off the brake until a squeal emits so loud that heads turn in the open window restaurants—rich folk that aren’t used to hearing old cars.

The only benefit to summers full of stupidly wealthy families from the west is the money they circulate. They come east for the rustic charm of a coastal town. The money we make from tourists funds our economy through the off-season, but by the time spring arrives, we’re emptying our pockets for a can of soda. Turning mattresses over to pay rent.

Ivy takes the main road to the coast, and when we finally pull up to the Cove, the sun has fully sunk below the horizon. The windshield fogs up as we idle beside the other cars parked haphazardly over the dunes.

Aura’s Crossing happens once every few years when her planet passes Vita, flashing just a glimpse of the Elysian fields. Just a taste of eternity. I honestly can’t wait⁠—

I see a black Pontiac across the dunes, and my stomach sinks…or maybe that’s me sinking…slumping down into the seat⁠—

“Don’t you dare,” Ivy scolds when she sees where my gaze lingers. “This is Topher’s favorite place, Cin, and everyone’s here tonight. Aura’s Crossing has always been the clearest over the Cove.”

I inhale deeply, zipping the silver charm along my necklace and pressing the glass handle of vodka to my lips while Ivy scrounges around her back seat for a water bottle to pour it into. “I know.” I force a mouthful down my throat, gritting out as I swallow, “I’m fine.”

Topher Reeves. The first boy I ever loved.

He told me we’d leave town in that car, among other broken promises he never really meant to keep. It always was a mind game with him, an addictive game that I’m lucky to have escaped when I did. What we had was like knowingly drinking poison or walking over hot coals. Surviving it was a rush so intoxicating, I convinced myself the injury was worth it. That the lowest points, as shadowed as they were, didn’t burn quite like the highs do.

Topher was a dream that felt worth chasing, as fractured as it was. In a world where I didn’t have much else, I savored the destructive way in which we burned. I think I was addicted to it.

Fuck. That. Stupid. Car.

Ivy snatches the vodka from my hands and pours it into a crinkled bottle. “Want me to slash the tires? I’ll do it.”

And she would.

“No,” I groan, letting my head fall to the headrest. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Ivy sighs, “and I hope I never do.”

Ivy’s never given anyone enough leverage to shatter that vulnerable organ in her chest. She’s never seen a familiar car and been reminded of all the times she sat in it. She won’t understand why I remember all the times he and I crawled to the back seat, but find myself forgetting all the times I slammed the door shut and walked home.

“Whatever thought you’re lost in, get out of it.” Ivy snaps her fingers in front of my face, and my mouth opens to remind her that— “And don’t tell me I don’t understand,” she interrupts, confidently anticipating what I’d say.