to roll off Quentin in waves. He looked ready to do battle, but Grace braced herself, determined not to back down. “Look, I appreciate what my grandfather did for me. I’ve literally won the lottery, I get it. But this windfall doesn’t make me lucky because I don’t have to work anymore, or ever go to school again. I’m lucky because of all the opportunities I have now. I can afford to go to any school I want and not settle on a job I hate.”
She paused for a moment and smiled. “Or I could not go to college and get a fun job at Latté Da’s or Starbucks. I can travel to other countries and do some kind of mission work. I don’t know, something, anything. To me, the possibilities are endless.” The smile fled her face as she locked her gaze with his. “But I will not allow this duty, which was forced on me, mind you, to rule my life. It sounds like you want me stuck here, imprisoned, and I won’t settle for that.”
She peered down at him from her soapbox. Resolve and courage settled in the frame of her shoulders while she stood her ground, ready for him to fight back. Quietly, she watched as a twitch set to motion in the corner of his left eye. Grace refused to cower at what he might say, and braced herself for battle.
Without a word, the weight of his shoulders slumped forward, the fight obviously leaving him. “You’re right. I don’t know how keeping you here is going to solve anything. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She looked away, waiting for a clue to tell her what might come next.
“So, how does this work,” Grace began, when they finally slid into Quentin’s Jag. “Am I your boss, or are you mine?” The last half of her question made her face scrunch up.
“This,” he said, waving a finger between them, “is a partnership, not a dictatorship. My job is to keep you safe and advise you on how to keep out of trouble. Got it?”
“Got it.”
A million more questions bounced around in her head. Overwhelmed, she left the questions to their bouncing, their all too persistent bouncing. It was upsetting, to say the least, to think about what she was—a Chosen—and what that meant. What if she didn’t have it in her to do this? What if she didn’t want to…would the others still come to find her? As she leaned her head back against the coolness of the leather headrest, she felt the weight of all the unanswered questions wrap coldly around her already laden shoulders, pressing her further back against the seat. What could she possibly do? She wasn’t even eighteen yet. Heck, she was just a kid! Not that I’d ever admit that to my mom, she thought darkly.
Spiderman was just a kid himself, she mused, and yet he was able to fight villains and protect the people around him. On the flip side, his uncle told him, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Could that work in reverse? With great responsibility comes great power? Because she could use a little power right now. If not, she had nothing. In gym class the other day, she barely managed a pull-up.
It should have bothered her that Quentin didn’t need an address or directions to find her home. He probably guarded outside while she slept. Her heart squeezed a little, finding a small amount of comfort in knowing someone cared enough to watch over her. Parked in the driveway, she could see the inside of the house was pitch black. Her mother’s car wasn’t in the garage either.
“Looks like we’re waiting if we want to talk to my mom.” After she unlocked the door, she stepped aside to allow Quentin by and shut it behind him. “Do you want something to drink?” she asked as she walked to the kitchen. Pausing, she turned back to him. “Actually, we haven’t eaten dinner. Are you hungry? I’m kind of hungry.”
“Sure, I could eat.” One corner of his mouth lifted.
That smile, she decided, was her favorite. “What?” she asked.
“You cook?” The look he gave her teetered on the edge of disbelief.
O, ye of little faith. “Yes, silly man, I can cook and I’m pretty good at it.” With her back facing him, she continued walking. “I’m not sure what there is to cook though.”
With one hand on the handle of the refrigerator door, she noticed a note from her mother hanging from