Starlight (Book 1)

7: It's Nothing Personal

Friday had been the sort of day which pretended to pick up the pace, only to drag on and on as though time had been stopped. Every time I glanced at the clock, it seemed as if two seconds had gone by, though it felt reasonable to assume the hour should have ended fifteen minutes ago.

At lunch, I spoke with Jax, who brought up the idea of camping for a second time. He was kind of begging, since Lily had invited her girlfriend to tag along with them. Apparently, the theory of the hour was that if I didn't come, he would die of boredom.

I planned on bringing it up to Dad and Papa, but I hadn't gotten the time. From the very moment I came home, the house was utter chaos. Kieran was bounding around with a broom, taking no survivors as he cleaned until the floor was dustless. Then he moved on to the kitchen, and finally the bathroom. Plates floated across the room at odd intervals, a feather duster crept into my room to wipe off my shelves and then retreated, and at one point he whisked me out of my desk chair, carrying me all the way down the stairs to the living room.

Kieran was commanding every object in the house, moving them around and putting them back down. The couch which Riley sat upon was in midair, and the living room had shifted entirely from where it had begun. It was one of Kieran's bad habits: when he was nervous, the whole house turned upside down.

The chair I was relaxing on was now all the way by the window and he had separated both couches from their usual positions as one long unit and one of them was now facing me instead of being against the wall. Dad stood in the middle of it all, the eye of the cleanliness hurricane.

It was only when the doorbell rung that Kieran abruptly put the TV stand back down and rushed to go answer the door, leaving the room with a tidbit of advice: "Don't panic!"

Riley looked at me from across the room and gave a smile. "I think it looks a lot more spacious like this," he said slowly, then looked towards the TV and frowned. "From this angle, the only thing I can see is the glare from the sun."

I tried not to laugh. We were, after all, supposed to act natural, whatever that meant.

The door opened, and I could hear Dad and Mabel exchanging brief pleasantries. He asked her how she was doing, to which she replied, "I'm doing well, thank you. I'd imagine it's been an eventful week for you."

"That's one way of putting it," replied Kieran evenly.

Mabel walked into the living room, carrying her signature clipboard. My heart sank. It would be an eternity long hour.

"I see you redecorated," she said. "Upheaval is helping no one."

Her hair, which was greying, was pulled into a bun, making her high arched face appear much more severe.

Kieran smiled weakly. "Shall we?" He gestured to the kitchen table.

Riley and I got up from our spots and joined them. I was the closest to Mabel, with both of my dads on the other side.

"Let us begin with the good news," she said, clicking her pen and holding it above the paper on her clipboard. "Grace is doing much better than she was the last time we met. She's been clean for almost a year now."

"That's wonderful," said Kieran, and I wondered whether he meant it.

"She's trying to find a job, somewhere to live..." Mabel looked at me, the creases around her eyes wrinkling with the slight smile. "Your mother is improving."