With a fortifying exhale, I sat down on the curb outside the school. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and my palms were sweating. I could’ve passed it off as adrenaline from the last thirty minutes, but that would’ve been a lie. It wasn’t until I realized what Ross was going to do that I felt a cold veil of fear fall over me, and an unexpected foreboding thought followed: What would it do to him?
I’d met Ross when he was coming out of the darker part of his life, when he started finding purpose and really living his life again. Since then, I’d learned only a couple of things about him, but they were things that made him . . . Ross.
First, he shouldered more than any one man should, taking the blame for things that were out of his control and making everything and everyone his problem to bear. Whitehorse was the perfect example of that; it would be only half of what it was without him.
And he was selfless. He didn’t realize it, and if I knew Ross as well as I thought I did, he probably felt he needed to do more and work harder than he already did, as if he was always atoning for a misdeed. Maybe it had to do with Kelsey, or the people whose lives he’d taken in the Army, which I knew next to nothing about, or maybe it was the people he hadn’t helped after he learned what he could do. Either way, his selflessness was annoyingly gallant, but more than that, it had no bounds, and I saw the impact it had on him, even if he didn’t. The drinking binges, when he was too overwhelmed to cope with simply breathing—the walls he built around himself, which was why we got along so well, or rather, why we could tolerate each other. Regardless, I couldn’t shake the fear that Ross using his Ability would pull him further away from everyone again, further away from me, and the fact that it mattered so much that it left my stomach in knots, scared me the most.
“Hey,” Sophie said softly behind me. She stopped at the curb and lowered to sit beside me. “You okay?” Her long hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned in.
“Yeah, sure. Just annoyed.” I did a double take. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your students?”
She shrugged. “They’re fine. I filed them into Steve’s classroom. They get to sit with the big kids for a while, so they’re too excited to be anxious.”
“Ah, clever.” I studied her a moment. “And you? How are you holding up?”
“Fine, just a little unsettled, I think.”
“Yeah, that’s a word for it.” I inhaled, long and deep, and peered out at the vacant downtown. We only had a couple hundred citizens, compared to the thousands that used to live here, and a small part of Riverdale was all we needed, with housing and a few businesses to make it feel adequate.
Taylor’s shop, two buildings to the right, provided a little bit of everything to the townspeople—from bread and produce traded with Prince Rupert, to the local preserves and handmade clothing that some citizens excelled in making here.
The Outpost, where citizens requested trade goods from down south and offered up wares of their own for trading, was in the building beside it. And down the road was the hospital; only a small medical wing was used and run by Nathan, a dermatologist before the outbreak, and his willing apprentice, Sadie.
There were other small establishments, like the mechanic shop, which was well manned, given our low demand for vehicle services, though they helped with plows and larger equipment as well. A handful of other homes served as personal offices; like for Jonathan, the veterinarian; and for Kathy, the piano teacher, who welcomed anyone wanting to learn into her home for scheduled sessions. Everyone did what they could to contribute and keep busy, and when they had no specific desires or capabilities, they worked in the community garden or cleaned the empty houses, readying them for newcomers. Some citizens helped tutor kids in their studies since the school was full and the teachers were few, and others floated around to whatever projects needed help. The rest of our little Riverdale neighborhood fanned out to the left.
At least people were learning how to move on with their lives, and again, a lot of that was possible because of Ross.
I peered across the street at the police station. It was boxy and dreary and smelled like mildew half the time, but it was ours and it was routine, and I liked it.
“Ross is okay,” Sophie said softly. “I mean, he’ll be okay, eventually.”
I forced myself to look at her. Even if I didn’t say anything, Sophie was observant and smart, and I hated that she probably knew what I was thinking without me saying a single word. “It’s the eventually part I don’t like,” I told her.
“He’s already doing better than he used to after something like this.”
“Or he’s hiding it better,” I countered. “He has a town to look after now, things are different.” Ross wouldn’t jeopardize the safety of the people here and go on a binger, even if that’s exactly what he needed. He’d still shoulder everything he felt was his to bear and suffer the effects of it. It wasn’t healthy.
Sophie’s lips pursed, but she didn’t deny it, which made me feel worse. She knew him better than any of us—she knew all of us better than the rest—and what she didn’t say about Ross made the unease almost viscous.
“I liked Mrs. Filmore, so don’t get me wrong when I say this,” I started, “but we all knew she didn’t have much longer. She was old, and everyone dies—what’s he going to do, siphon the souls of every single person as they take their last breath? Is that his role now?”
When Sophie didn’t acknowledge my question, I met her gaze. “Why does it bother you so much?” she finally asked. “If that’s what he decides to do, I mean.”
“Because what kind of life is that?” I practically screeched. “No one wants that. I mean, do you like seeing Ross half-dead and in anguish? I sure as hell don’t.” I thought about the look on his face when I’d found him standing by JJ’s bedside, after helping her find peace with her last breath.
I folded my arms across my knees and shook my head. “Doesn’t he get a second chance like everyone else has gotten, or is he doomed to be the Grim Reaper for the rest of his life? And he’ll do it too, you know he will.” I remembered how much I hated him at first, especially in that split-second of realizing JJ was gone, and that he was the one who’d taken her from me. I’d unleashed my pain and anger on him, and he’d taken it willingly.
“I hate what I did,” I said aloud for the first time. “The day I came back and she was gone, Ross didn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s a good man, even if he annoys the shit out of me most of the time.”
“You can’t beat yourself up for what happened back then, Kat. No one blames you, especially not Ross.”
“That’s my point,” I muttered.
“He knows what it’s like to lose someone you care so much about.”
“Still, it feels like shit,” I grumbled, and flicked a pebble on the asphalt across the street.
“I knew you cared about him,” Sophie said, her voice was a thoughtful whisper. “But I don’t think I realized how much.”
I frowned, disliking the burn in my cheeks as her meaning sank in, but I played it off. “Why, don’t you? He’s like a brother to you, or an uncle or something.”
“Of course I do.” Her lips twitched with a barely-there smile, and she shrugged. “But it’s different for me.”
Cocking my head, I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I shifted to face her fully, feeling my defenses rise a little. “What’s that mean, exactly?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You tell me.”
I bit my lip, my mind foreign to me as I tried and failed to formulate the words. “I just—” I was beginning to realize I cared about Ross more than I probably should, but he and I were like oil and water. Not to mention, he was a stubborn asshole who grated on my nerves every chance he could. “Never mind. Maybe he doesn’t want a second chance in life or a shred of happiness. What the hell do I know.”
“There’s the bitter Kat I know and love,” she jested, and I snorted a laugh. “Is that why you want to take the serum so badly?”
My smile fell. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think that will help you put everything behind you, so you can have a real second chance at happiness?”
Clenching my jaw, I tried not to be angrier than I already was. “He told you about the serum too?”
With a weary smile, she shook her head. “Do you really have to ask that?”
I swallowed, feeling strangely relieved, and realized I was getting too worked up, and it was all for nothing in the end. “No,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t have to ask, and I’m pretty sure my demons will haunt me regardless of any serum I take, actually.” I eyed her skeptically. “When are you going to be able to see into the future too? That would be more helpful than rummaging around in the past every time you touch someone.”
Laughing, Sophie leaned back and held her face up to the sun as it peeked through the clouds. “It’s funny,” she mused, her eyes flitting shut. “We all still want things we can’t have, even though we’ve all been given a new start, and we have all of this now.” She gazed around at our little community; vastly different from the desolate ruin it had been after the outbreak.
“All of us?” I chuckled. “I don’t want to hear about it, Sophie. You’ve got Alex, and soon you’ll have a new home. You’ve got family, and a job you love here at the school . . . You have everything you could possibly want. The rest of us, yes—I’ll admit I want more, but I’ve always wanted what I can’t have, so . . .” I shrugged with a self-deprecating laugh, but Sophie didn’t join in. She didn’t have a quippy comeback or counter-argument as I’d expected, either. Instead, the easiness of her expression faltered and she sat up, brushing her palms off on her thighs.
I sobered, feeling that nagging sense of unease settle in again. “What?” I’d only been partially joking with her. I knew no one’s life was ever perfect, but as far as I knew, Sophie and Alex were happy; they were settled and embracing their new lives with more gusto than the rest of us.
“I don’t have everything I want,” she said quietly. “And I’m not sure I ever will.”
Instinctively, I knew what she was referring to, and that she hadn’t said anything sooner made my heart ache for her. “You don’t have to tell me, but—”
“It’s fine,” she said with a forced smile. She picked at her fingernail. “I don’t mind, but only Elle and Alex know so far.” She cleared her throat. “I was pregnant,” she whispered. Was.
My heart plummeted, and the longing in her voice made my eyes burn with unshed tears. “I was scared at first,” she continued, “petrified, actually. All I could hear were my mom’s words playing over and over in my head about responsibility and how a kid would be a huge undertaking, especially in the world we’re living in now. I even thought it was irresponsible for a moment.” Sophie let out a breath and wiped the moisture from beneath one of her eyes. “Elle helped me come around to the idea, and, I dunno, I got excited about it—we got excited. It felt like Alex’s and my story had finally come full circle, and it felt so right and meant to be, I was more ecstatic than I’ve ever been. Now,” she shook her head. “Now it’s just . . . hard.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie.” The words were inadequate, but I didn’t know what else to say. Suddenly, her fear of the gangs made more sense. I assumed parenthood or the thought of it did that, made you look at the world through a different lens, one that made it seem more dangerous than it already was. “Have you thought about trying again?”
With a shrug, she ran her fingers through her hair and finally looked at me. “Yeah, and we sort of have, but it’s scary, you know? Maybe it’s not safe since we have no idea what’s really going on in our bodies after all the changes. And if something went wrong during the pregnancy . . . I don’t know what we’d do. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, like we thought.”
I hadn’t thought of that. The Virus changed us, but what did that mean, exactly? I knew there were some people who had had children in the past few years, but there weren’t many, and it was too soon to tell what the effects would be on a grand scale.
“So, you see?” she said, rallying with a small smile. “I want a family of my own, which I may never get. And you want to control your new life, since you’ve never had the chance to before, and you want Ross to be happy—something you can’t control.”
With a haughty laugh, I shook my head. “God, I hate that you know everything. You’re like a walking life coach or something.” Sophie laughed, a real laugh this time, and I smiled too. “You should just offer therapy at this point, and have people pay you in books and whatever nerdy things you like.”
“Ha! Definitely not.”
We rose to our feet, brushing off our backsides as we prepared ourselves to face the music inside. I had never wanted to have a child; at least I’d never had the physical need to do so. I wasn’t mother material anyway. The fun, foul-mouthed aunt maybe, but not a mother. “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, wishing there was something I could do for her.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ve had some time to come to terms with it, and I know I’m lucky to have my life, even if what happened is disappointing.”
We stood there in silence for a few moments. The wrens chirping from the spruces that grew sporadically down the street.
Maybe it was because I felt like I had friends—true friends—for the first time in my life, but I wanted them to be happy, almost protectively so. We all deserved it, even if I wasn’t naive enough to wish it for myself.
“I am happy,” Sophie said so quietly, I barely heard her. A small smile curved her lips. “You will be too.”
“More predictions?” I asked.
She looked at me, her smile widening to a grin. “Not a predication,” she said. “A fact.”
I shook my head. “From now on, I’m just going to assume you’re omniscient,” I told her.
Sophie chuckled softly again, and with a heavy breath, I nodded toward the station. “I have some work to do. Let Ross know if he asks, would you?” The last thing I was going to do was bother him again.
“Sure.”
As I turned to head across the street, Sophie called my name.
I zipped around. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re worried about Ross, but our Abilities are . . . difficult. You don’t want to embrace yours, and I understand why, but it’s different for Ross and me.” She glanced around like she was searching for the right words. “For us, it’s not about doing and thinking, it’s about feeling—for him especially. Whatever toll it takes on him, it would be much worse if he did nothing at all. He’ll never find the peace you think he deserves that way.”
Even if Sophie’s words made sense, my heart still ached for him. As she turned back for the school, I reminded myself that if I’d learned anything in the past few years, it was that I couldn’t control other people. Ross and JJ were no different in this; there was nothing I could do about Ross and the decisions he made, just like I hadn’t been able to control JJ’s. I had to accept whatever Ross wanted to do with his life, no matter how much it pained me to watch, or the helplessness I felt in its wake.