I wasn’t sure what we were going to do with him now, if we couldn’t cure him. But at least we could try to improve his quality of living. We had to stay optimistic… That was something that my father had instilled in me from an early age. Make the best of what you have, and never let your circumstances drag you down. My father could sure give that kind of advice from experience. He’d been put through the mill unlike anyone else I knew in The Shade, and that was really saying something given the history of this island.
Once bedtime arrived, I packed up my homework and retired to bed, though not without taking one last look at our new gym.
Grace
My gut twisted as I made my way to the hospital the next day. I felt nervous about seeing him again after the way we had left off. Arriving outside his door, I pressed my ear against it, listening cautiously. I heard the familiar clinking of metal against porcelain. I knocked three times and then opened the door to find him sitting up in bed, eating breakfast. It was some kind of beet-colored soup this morning. He did not seem to get very hungry during the day, and breakfasts appeared to be the only meal that he wanted to eat. Perhaps his body just did not burn enough energy for him to work up a decent appetite.
The large throbbing bump on his head was no longer. He did not even have a bandage around him. At least that was something Shayla had been able to cure.
Our eyes met for about a second before he glanced away. But not so quickly that I did not notice the slight flush in his cheeks.
As I approached his bed, he swallowed and said in a low, hoarse voice, “I… I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday. I did not wish to upset you.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
An awkward pause followed. I found myself staring at his bowl as he continued draining it.
“Does your head feel completely better?” I asked.
“Yes,” he muttered.
All right… Enough beating around the bush. “After you’ve eaten, I have a surprise for you.”
His eyes met mine again, and they brightened ever so slightly. “Surprise?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you,” I replied.
He finished the last of his soup, and when he confirmed that he was full, I helped him out of bed and into his wheelchair. After wrapping him with blankets, I pushed him out of the hospital. I pushed him faster than I usually would have, even though it made the ride a bit more bumpy for him. I was eager to arrive at our destination.
I sensed his wonderment as we reached the borders of the Residences, and he let out a breath as he realized that I was approaching the elevator leading up to one.
“You’re going to take me up there?” he asked, craning his neck to gaze up at the treetops.
“Yup. This is where I live.” I felt a sense of pride as I said the words. Even though I had lived in this penthouse since birth, I hadn’t lost sight of the fact that my upbringing had been extremely privileged. My parents had made a point of instilling gratitude into me and making me aware of the kind of living standards that most of the world was subjected to.
I wondered where Josh had been brought up. I wished that I knew where he had been plucked from by the hunters. Josh’s accent indicated that he was from England, but that seemed kind of an odd place to kidnap someone from when there were far closer countries to the portal IBSI had located that led to The Woodlands. Why not just find someone from the Philippines? If they had wanted to experiment on a half-blood, they could’ve easily created one from scratch. We knew for a fact that they had a stock of imprisoned supernaturals in their custody—vampires included—those they had caught causing trouble for humans, or so they claimed. My own mother had once been taken by them to one of their research centers. She had witnessed firsthand the myriad of creatures they had access to.
Drawing myself back to the present, I pushed the button in the elevator. We ascended to the veranda that lined our apartment and I pushed Josh inside. Before revealing my surprise, since he seemed so fascinated by The Shade’s tree houses, I decided to give him a little tour of our apartment first. I showed him the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, before taking him to my bedroom.
On stepping inside, I realized that, apart from Benedict and my other male relatives, this was the first time I had brought a boy in here. Now that I had, I felt painfully aware of how girly it was and frankly… juvenile. My shelves were still filled with keepsakes from my childhood, silly trinkets and plastic toys, but mostly fluffy animals. I used to collect them… when I was nine.
I was about to clarify that my constantly busy schedule had been keeping me from doing a much-needed clear-out when Josh’s lips curved in a smile. He had just laid eyes on Podgey, a stuffed elephant almost the size of my desk chair, slumped in one corner.
“What?” I asked, defensive.
He coughed. “Uh… How old are you?”
Oh, man. Here comes the humiliation…
“I’m seventeen,” I murmured.
He nodded, his smile broadening.
At least his mood had lifted, even if it was at my expense.
Time for a change of room.
I gripped the handles of his chair and backed him out of the room, even as my cheeks heated to a rosy red. “Well, while we are on the subject of age,” I said, “you really have no idea how old you are?”
There was a pause, then he said, “Eighteen.” As my eyes widened, he clarified, “I’m not sure why I believe this, since I don’t remember my eighteenth birthday. It’s just a feeling.”