LJ by Ila Golden

Author:Ila Golden [Golden, Ila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I drummed my fingers against my dressing table, and half glared at my keepsake box. That didn’t make it open, but it did make the well of frustration growing inside of me build just a little bit more. I drummed my fingers just a little harder, and contemplated all the ways in which the box was definitely my enemy right now. After all, a friend wouldn’t stop me from asking my father for answers.

It had been two days since the foiled kidnapping incident at Seers, and the only person I’d really spoken to about it with was Cage. That had been via MSN, and had involved me telling him everything, including all the bits of the insane conversation which had happened that I could still remember. I mean, obviously I knew my grounded explanation for what had happened had to be the right one. Of course it was the right one. How could it not be the right one? But Cage had been really quiet after I’d finished telling him everything, which made me worry maybe he believed in that kind of stuff too, and I’d seriously offended him. Or worse, that something I’d said had made him hate me. It didn’t help that when he did finally send a message, it was to tell me he was tired and needed to go to bed.

The response had stung more than a little. If I’d upset him why didn’t he just tell me, so I could apologise? I’d spent pretty much the whole of Tuesday agonising about it. But when we’d spoken again last night everything felt normal between us. Even if I was trying really, really hard not to say anything to refer back to the things I’d told him about on Monday. With a day of serious reflecting on things behind me, I realised that I’d probably freaked Cage out a little, since, you know, his friend, my Uncle Rowan, had actually been kidnapped. So hearing that people were still out there doing stuff like that probably cut way too close to home for him to deal with, especially when you considered how connected it was to his own trauma. If I’d thought about it a little more on Monday, I probably would have been a little more sensitive when I was talking to him. Maybe even waiting till we were face to face so I could gage his reaction, instead of the typed-up form of verbal diarrhoea I’d actually given him. God I could be so stupid sometimes.

Like I was being right now, for example, because Julian had made another one of his little comments in school today. Well I guess it was more like a question really. So how often did you get sick growing up? How often did I get sick? What difference did that really make to him? Okay, so I was a pretty robust kid. In fact the only time I’d ever had to take time off school growing up was when I had the chicken pox.

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