"Where's the last spot you saw them?" Angel asked.
"Them as in..."
"Whoever took your sister!"
Jet started to lead them to a place outside, so we followed. Angel, who was last, gently shut the door.
"We should leave a note so they don't worry," Danny said after Angel shut the door.
Jet, who was leading for probably his first time ever, turned to look at him.
"Oh, sure! What should it say?" he pretended to write in the air with his finger, "Dear Mom, Dad, and everyone else, we are going on a dangerous mission and taking Cole's girls-"
"What?"
"Excuse me for not being able to remember the names of all the strangers who just appear out of the blue!" Jet paused for a minute to let it sink in.
"We are taking Cole's girls," Jet looked at Angel, silently daring her to correct him, "with us. Don't come looking for us please. We'll have the right to call you overprotective if you do, fire ninja, cause you know we can handle pretty much anything-"
"I get the point. And you know what I meant. We leave a note saying we and the girls went somewhere a lot safer."
"So we're gonna lie?" Angel said.
"Pretty much."
"And Danny's the leader, I'm guessing," I said.
"Pretty much."
"Do you normally do whatever he says, Jet?"
"Pretty much."
I tested something, "Are you always this annoying?"
"Pretty much," he said with a grin on his face.
"Stop saying that."
"Pretty much," he laughed.
"That's enough, Jet."
Danny couldn't have been more than a few years older than him, yet Jet actually listened to Danny.
"Do you really do everything he says?"
"Of course not! It's just he's 13 and I'm 11 so he's older and smarter."
"Older and smarter? Reminds me of someone I know," I said.
'Hint, hint,' I thought, hoping Angel would hear me. She gave me a look that said, "Really?"
I shrugged, but inside I was thrilled that it worked on the 1st try twice in one day. That meant I'm getting better! (That was a welcome change since it had seemed to be getting worse in the 9 months since I started living with Nya. No matter how hard I tried or how often I practiced, it only seemed to get worse. The weird thing was, the same thing happened to Angel and Zack.) Inside I was doing cartwheels and jumping around like a maniac, but outside the only sign of my joy was a huge smile, which I quickly covered by pretending to cough into my elbow. I forced my face to look expressionless before lowering my elbow. If they had seen me smile like that, they would've asked why I was so happy and then I'd have to tell them or make up some stupid lie. And for me, hiding things like that is easier than lying. Why not tell the truth? I couldn't, not after what happened the last time I told someone.
It was 2 years ago. Angel had started middle school, so I didn't get to hang out with her as much. It was never really that easy for me to make new friends every grade, even when I'd been at that school for 3 years and was no longer the new kid, so I was kinda lonely. Then Angel started acting in a school play, and the bedtime Grandad had given me, which I was fine with before, suddenly seemed way too early because it had me in bed before Angel even got home. This really frustrated me, since then I only saw her a little in the mornings before she left on the bus.
One day I decided to tell my only friend at the time, Carly, about my power. She didn't believe me, so I tried to show her. It took me a few tries, but just as I was about to say something like, "Told you so," Carly ran, screaming, "Freak!"
She tried to 'warn' others, but no one believed her and, after being laughed at, she soon stopped. I tried to apologize for getting her in trouble, but she wouldn't let me near her.
Mom had always told us not to tell people about our powers, to keep it a family secret. She told us even your best friend could betray you. I realized then she had been talking from personal experience, and I wished I had listened to her.
Henry had asked why she had told Dad.
"Your father is trustworthy," she had replied. Though her words were true, I could tell she herself didn't believe them.
We were scared of our mom. Dad wasn't weak physically or mentally, but against my mother's mind control that meant almost nothing. It was scary to see our dad, the strongest guy we knew, forced to do anything she said. She'd rarely controlled us children, but we'd all seen her do it when things didn't go her way. Dad wasn't scared of her, though I wouldn't have blamed him if he was.
When both my parents were alive, I could never understand why Dad stayed with her. Now that I'm a lot older I think I know why. If he had tried to divorce her, there was a pretty good chance Mom would get custody of us kids and he may have gotten to see us only a little, or even none. Plus, he had no proof of anything she was doing.
I remember that when I was little, about kindergarten or 1st grade, Henry had told me that Mom was actually a demon, which he said explained why we all had powers. You'll believe almost anything when you're 5, especially when told by an older brother who seems to know everything. I later asked Dad about it, but he just laughed and told me not to believe everything Henry says.
I hear Angel call my name, which snaps me back to the present. I'm not sure if this a power or a curse or what it is, but sometimes when I remember something, I'll close my eyes and relive it. It would be cool, except it's never just 1 flashback. Something will remind me of another memory and then I'll relive that, and something will remind me of another memory and then I'll relive that, and so on. It goes on until something, usually a loud noise or a pinch, brings me back to the present. I can't see myself, but Angel says I get ghostly pale and I have a blank look on my face. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if no one bothered to 'wake me up.' I'd drift from memory to memory forever, stuck reliving the past instead of living my life.
In any case, Angel woke me up.
"She does this sometimes," she said hurriedly to the boys and almost dragged me the 2 steps back to our new room.
"What could possibly have reminded you of anything?!" she whispered, almost angry, though I knew she couldn't blame me for anything.
I shrugged. I really didn't feel like explaining anything then, especially knowing the boys were on the other side of the door, and, as far as I knew, could hear every word we said.
"Later?" I said, opening the door before she could refuse.
"What was that all about?" Jet asked almost immediately.
"Nothing," we said in not-quite-so-perfect unison.
"You girls better not be planning anything."
"Who, us?" Angel pretended to be shocked.
"No, I'm talking to the purple zebra in the corner; Of course I'm talking to you!"
"Take ten from the sarcasm for a while, could ya? You might get a cramp in your tongue," I heard an equally sarcastic voice.
"Zack! What are you doing up?!"
"I could ask the same," he grinned, knowing I wouldn't have a good excuse.
"Go back to bed," Danny commanded.
Zack glanced at me. I knew the look on his face pretty well; he was about to say something defiant.
"You might be the boss of him," he pointed at Jet, "but I don't listen to nobody."
"Except me."
"What's up, Dad?" I turned around and gave him a little wave. After two appearances I really can't be surprised at seeing them again.
Jet stared at them in shock for a while, but Danny crossed his arms and laughed at his friend's reaction.
"You- you're d-dead," Jet finally stammered out.
" 'We can handle anything,' " Angel laughed, mocking the words Jet had said only a little while before.
Looking at Danny, I truly believed he could handle anything. He seemed calm and laid-back every time I saw him, like even if the world ended right in front of him his emotions would never show. He's been working on his poker face, too, I thought.
"I did tell you, right, Angel?"
"You mean you don't remember?"
"Tell her what?" Zack never interrupted people if he could help it. He can be very patient at times, way more patient than me anyway.
"Short term memory loss. That's normal after year 1," Henry said, still trying to play the role of the know-it-all older brother after all these years, which almost made me laugh.
