Chapter Twelve

Nicolle looked back over her first day as a Chess Club member and found herself unable to nail down how she felt about it. True, Alyssa had given her plenty to be upset about " and judging from conversations with Vee the Chess Club was prepared to give Alyssa plenty to be upset about in the near future " but the remainder of the day had played out with successes Nicolle had never experienced in those hallways. And if having Alyssa Craven slap you in front of the student body was the price of admission to Elijah Beaumont laying a healing hand across your face, Nicolle would gladly pay it. Perhaps provoking Queen Alyssa again wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

            “No ma’am,” Vee said. She and Nicolle were walking against the flow of students who were exiting the school; it had been explained to Nicolle that the Chess Club often times met in Room 44 after school for various reasons " homework, Artistry practice, to tamper with school files after hours, to hang out " and that was what was happening today. Not a single student bumped into Nicolle or Vee as they moved against the tide; they were given a wide, comfortable space.

            “What?” Nicolle asked.

            “Getting slapped around just so he’ll have to heal you isn’t part of Vee’s patented Nicolle and Elijah Endeavor.”

            “I thought you said you didn’t get in my head much?”

            “I don’t, but sometimes…” Vee waited for nearby students to pass by; after a few seconds they were moving up the first flight of stairs and were more alone. “… but sometimes telepathy just happens. And when are you going to give Eli back his sunglasses?”

            Nicolle stared at Vee in shock, a blush flaming on her face.

            “It’ll be our secret. Well… until Eli notices that you stole his shades,” Vee whispered with a wink. “And later you better spill about what happened up here once you two were alone…”

            They ascended the second flight of stairs and arrived at Room 44; Vee opened the door and they stepped inside. There was no bouncer at the door but Nicolle still felt as if one had just admitted her into a VIP lounge. And wasn’t Room 44 essentially that? The ten members of the Chess Club were not only Very Important People by Maple High School standards; they were Very Important People everywhere. And Room 44 was where they reclined. A thought occurred to Nicolle: what would some people think " scientists, philosophers, leaders of nations " if they knew the reality of what went on in that high school room? If they knew that telepathy, enhanced strength, teleportation, and the ability to see the dead actually existed… what would they do? Immediately Room 44 looked less like a VIP lounge and more like a hideout.

            Vee walked into the room with the casual grace that defined her; Nicolle moved in with more hesitancy, scoping out everything before her. Brooklyn and Jackson were laughing about something (Nicolle had a hunch their laughter was at someone else’s expense; their amusement had the sound of getting away with something); Maria, Elyse, and Peter were watching something on the flat screen TV in the corner; Dominic was sitting on the couch with a cell phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, looking back and forth between them. Music blared from one of the computers in the computer room; visible through the open door was Darius, surfing a website, his head bouncing to the rap:

           

We are young.

We have heart.

Born in this world as it all falls apart;

We are strong.

We don't belong.

Born in this world as it all falls apart…

 

            Vee walked over to Dominic and sat with him on the couch; Nicolle had intended to join them but at the last second changed her mind. Dominic whispered something to Vee and she replied likewise; Nicolle judged that they may need a moment. She took on an aimless kind of walk, just moving through the room, staring at the windows, listening to the birds chirp outside; she wondered where Elijah had gone before remembering that Presley had needed a drive home. Would he kiss her when she got out of the car? What if he walked inside with her… he was the sort of guy a girl’s parents wouldn’t mind coming in the house, after all. What if they went to her bedroom? This was a stream of thought that had occurred to her before but she’d managed to bat it down before any damage was done; that said, having been alone with Elijah earlier in the day " actually having him to herself for a brief and wonderful moment in time " robbed her of the ability to bat it down this time. The notion was paralyzing: were they sexually active, Elijah and Presley?

            “I could tell you, if you wanted.”

            Nicolle looked up. Brooklyn was alone by the window, Jackson having left her to join Darius in the computer room. It took Nicolle a moment to get there but the realization came: Brooklyn had been reading her mind, hearing her terrified thoughts. Nicolle remembered what Vee had told her the night of their sleepover: she’s a better telepath than me in just one area. Scandals, gossip, and sex stuff. If someone is thinking about any of those things she picks it up loud and clear.

            Nicolle played dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”

            Brooklyn smiled back at her in such a way that Nicolle felt affronted. “Oh, you know. I may not be able to read Ellijah’s thoughts that easily… oh, trust me, I’ve tried… but Presley… hm…” She bit her bottom lip and grinned even wider. “Let’s just say that the little innocent demeanor she puts off really hides how wild she can be in the bedroom… I mean, the things she and Elijah do sometimes in there"”

            The sound of moving air; Dominic and Vee were suddenly standing in the area between Nicolle and Brooklyn, Dom’s jacket whirling dramatically for a moment before stilling. Vee barely had to move forward in order to place herself face to face with the other Artist of the Blue.

            “Not. Another. Word.”

            “Ooooo,” Brooklyn breathed, feigning fear with a seductive smile. “Color me frightened.”

            “Intentionally goading another member loses you points, Brook,” Dominic said, standing behind Vee in support. “That’s five points off.”

            “Goading?” She giggled sweetly. “She was wondering something, I was merely helping her with the answer.”

            “The next time you decide to help Nicolle like that I’m going to pop your jaw,” Vee threatened; Brooklyn stood nearly a foot taller, a fact Vee ignored. “Understand me?”

            “You can’t say that, Vee,” Dominic said softly, “you know it’s against the"”

            “Right, five points off me,” Vee said, clearly not caring. “Just remember what I said, Brook. Lay off Nicolle, she’s dealt with enough today already. If you want to start something come find me instead.”

            Brooklyn was still smiling but the giggle was gone from it. “B***h.”

            “W***e,” Vee responded, turning around, grabbing Nicolle by the wrist, and saying, “come on.” They moved to another end of the room; Nicolle looked behind her to see Brooklyn getting out her phone, thumbs racing across its surface with uncanny speed and skill.

            Vee angrily snatched the notebook with the words TOP SECRET on it from her bag and flipped to the points page; Nicolle stayed silent, watching her friend subtract five points from her own score and then, with unmistakable relish, five points from Brooklyn McKenna’s, making her score a 85.

            “Ha,” Vee said without a smile. “She loses benefits now. Maybe she’ll learn to shut her mouth.”

            “Is what she said true...?” Nicolle asked. It wasn't her business, not at all... whatever Elijah and Presley did was their right. But hearing Vee said no would relieve her so much; the thought of the guy she loved being with another girl in that way ate at her like an acid.

            Vee sighed. “I don't know... I've never used my telepathy to find out.”

            Nicolle nodded, pretending to be cool with things. “Okay.”

            “Don't listen to a word she says,” Vee said, looking at Brooklyn from across the room. “All she does is set the cat among the pigeons, day in, day out, every blooming day. I may not know what Eli and Presley are doing, but I have been in Brook's head and I know she likes to cause trouble. So don't pay her any attention.”

            Nicolle nodded more " it's okay, really " and forced a smile.

            They made their way back across the room " avoiding Brooklyn as they did " coming to stand beside the couch where Elyse, Peter, and Maria sat. The flat screen across from them was showing what looked like a martial arts movie, one of the old Hong Kong kung-fu flicks that Adam had enjoyed as a little boy. A one-armed ninja stood on a bridge, surrounded by hundreds of sword-toting samurai warriors; displaying unrealistic amounts of skill and power the ninja effortlessly blasted his way through the enemy ranks, unhindered and unchallenged. Vee began to laugh.

            “Yeah right,” she said, shaking her head. “The one armed dude would have to be an Artist to even hope to fight that many guys.”

            “That's what we were just talking about,” Peter said, and Nicolle looked at him closely; were those the first words she had ever heard him speak? No, he'd spoken up on the day of her orientation. Once. “We were talking about, like, what if historical figures in the past had Artistries? King Arthur was said to have had insane strength, taking out something like thirty warriors in a battle all by himself.”

            “Falling back on the books I've read on the subject I don't tend to treat King Arthur as a valid historical personality,” Maria said. “But... … what of individuals such as Alexander the Great? It seems conceivable to me that he would potentially possess a Purple Artistry. His understanding of battle strategy was very good.”

            “And, like... Einstein,” Elyse said. “If I remember it right didn't he theorize about the existence of black holes or something without ever having actually seen one...?”

            “Didactically speaking, seminal evidence seems to explicate that Einstein's repudiation of a genesis for the universe " a fact so scientifically proven virtually no one contests it anymore " would go against the argument that he possessed an Artistry,” Maria said. Vee gave Nicolle a raised eyebrow grin: did you catch any of that? “In fact, so repugnant was the notion of the universe having a beginning, he introduced what some would describe as a 'fudge factor' into his mathematical works to avoid it, dividing by zero to do so, which is of course an algebraic error"”

            “And then guys like that Australian, that guy who had no records of any kind to have ever existed, and no one could identify him,” Vee interjected. “Dominic mentioned that one to me a long time ago, I think his father believed the man had a Green Artistry, had maybe come from the past into the future.”

            “And, you know, like, Joan of Arc?” Elyse said. “She was supposed to be pretty incredible... didn't she claim to be able to speak with spirits or something along those lines? Didn't they give her battle strategies? Maybe she had a Black Artistry.”

            “Though the records are replete with mistakes and much of the data is merely myth, legend actually attributes to Joan of Arc a light gray eye color, so a Black Artistry would be unlikely"”

            “Maria, girl,” Elyse laughed, patting the Artist of the Purple on the back. “If you don't quit shootin' down my theories...”

            Maria shrugged, embarrassed. “Was only saying...”

            “I bet you guys like Nicholas Flamel are, like, Artists of the White or something,” Peter said, not meeting anyone's eyes as he spoke. “The rumor is that in Paris people still see Nicholas Flamel sometimes, that he's still alive...”

            “That's bull-hockey,” Vee said. “How do you recognize a hundreds-year-old dude?”

            “I remember,” Nicolle started and everyone looked at her; the quiet new girl was speaking. “I remember the story of Samson, having lots of strength... I don't know, maybe he had a Red Artistry or something...”

            “Didn't his strength come from his head?” Elyse asked.

            “From his hair,” Maria said. “It's possible that his stores of charged energy was in his hair, that cutting it would temporarily rob him of his power... hmmm...”

            It seemed Nicolle had given Maria something to ponder on; in the background noises like hugyaaa and tootseeya came from the kung-fu film, the one armed fella finishing off the last of his many enemies. The sound of someone approaching made Nicolle turn around; Darius and Jackson were emerging from the computer room.

            “Whaddya say guys, we going out on the town, doing our thing tonight?” Darius asked. “Maybe grab some grub, play some bee-ball tonight...”

            “I heard we were,” Elyse said. Nicolle turned to Vee, not even speaking her question aloud.

            “Yeah, we sometimes go out as the entire Chess Club together... to the movies, bowling, to eat... whatever. You're free to join us if you like.”

            Nicolle was a little nervous; she'd never hung out with friends before, doing that sort of thing, riding around town and whatnot. But she found herself agreeing to go, all the while remembering that her mother was soon to return home; she wondered what would happen if she wasn't there to see her when that happened.

            Everyone was grabbing their things and getting ready to head out, donning their expensive shades to hide their elusive eyes. Nicolle's bag had been left across the room, far from where everyone else was conversing; she walked the length of the room, knelt down to grab her things, and heard a voice coming from behind the nearest bookshelf. She didn't want to eavesdrop but still did not move after having gotten what she came for.

            “... hey Dad... I, um... I don't know if you're ever going to get this or not... I don't think you even have this number anymore, a friend of mine found it for me online somewhere, but, uh... … anyway, in case you do get this... I need your help. With a lot of things, actually,” Dominic said, letting out a not-quite-genuine chuckle, “but mostly with a new member of this Club Eli and I made. She has an Artistry like you, she has a Black Artistry"”

            Nicolle slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened.

            “-- and though she seems to handle it okay I just want to be sure we're doing this right... she already accidentally put her mother in the hospital. She's a nice girl so I know she won't go haywire, you know, zapping people or whatever,” another humorless chortle, “but, uh... still, we have less info on the Black Artistry than the others. If you hear this... … if you're, you know... even still alive... you would know all about it. And... … ...”

            Silence. Long silence. Nicolle feared that Dominic had already ended the conversation, that he would round the bookshelf and see her squatting there"

            “... and I miss you Dad. So. Talk to you later.”

            Nicolle scrambled away in a hurry, reaching Vee before Dominic could end the call and walk out.

            “Ready to go?” Vee asked with a smile.

            … allegiance to the flag of the United States of America... and to the republic...

            “Yeah, I'm ready,” Nicolle said with a smile. She turned and saw Dominic come out from behind the bookshelf, pocketing his cell phone as he walked. 

 

            The Chess Club split into two vehicles for the outing, Jackson commandeering his Hummer, Elyse driving her PT Cruiser; Brooklyn and Darius rode in the Hummer as well, eliciting a fast, whispered conversation between Vee and Dominic before everyone finally left.

            “Someone needs to ride with them, make sure they don't act up.”

            “We can't watch them all the time,” Dominic answered, Nicolle standing by silently. She hoped there was room in the Cruiser for her; riding with Brook and her scandalous telepathy would be nearly as fun as being run over by a car.

            “What if one of them"?!”

            “It'll be fine, shh.”

            “Don't shoosh me, Dominic Beaumont,” Vee threatened, but too late; Dominic vanished and reappeared in the passenger's seat of the Cruiser, smiling and waving behind the glass.

            Within minutes everyone was zipping down the highway, Nicolle,Vee, and Maria in the backseat, Dominic and Elyse in the front, a car load of superpowers. Every few minutes the Hummer would appear in the lane beside them, the three Artists inside making their presence known somehow; Jackson danced with the sporadic spasms one would typically associate with someone burning alive; Darius began mooning passing cars (Nicolle hurriedly turned her head each time). Brooklyn began flipping them off, Vee being her most common target.   

            “Grrr,” Vee growled, looking at Brook in the next lane. “I'm gonna think this loud and clear so she can't ignore me. Stop it.”

            Brook was talking to Jackson, apparently not hearing Vee's vehement thoughts.

            “Sex. Sex parties,” Vee spoke her thoughts aloud, “infidelity, stop shooting the bird at people or I'll deduct five hundred points, just watch me, hot boys, sexy sexiness...”

            Brook's head turned so quickly Maria gawked a laugh. After a moment of apparent confusion she scowled, flipped Vee off with both hands, and turned around.

            “Vee,” Dominic said, turning in his seat; she remained looking across at the other car, undoubtedly firing mental projectiles. “Vivian, look at me.” She did, turning to him, an angry pout on her face. “Just drop it, okay? If you don't now you two'll be telepathically arguing all day. I mean, it's not like we can actually do anything to them unless they use Artistries in some way"”

            Nicolle heard the whoosh of displaced wind that she had come to associate with the Green Artistry and was shocked to suddenly see Darius in the car with them. Of all places " Nicolle didn't know if she should be amused or afraid " he was in Dominic's lap. In the Hummer Brooklyn and Jackson laughed as if they'd never seen a funnier thing.

            “Wassup, crew"”

            “Get off!” Dominic sad, looking around the car frantically for onlookers. “What if someone in another car had seen, what then?!”

            “No one did, relax, O great leader,” Darius laughed, flailing about in hysterics.

            “Hey, watch the gear shift"” Elyse started; a wild leg struck something and the car suddenly began to moan " werrrrrrrrr.

            “Changing the gears while driving can have disastrous effects on the transmission"!” Maria educated loudly.

            Elyse quickly threw the Cruiser back into gear; almost immediately after there was a whoosh and Dominic and Darius were gone.

            “I hope he threatens them good while he's over there,” Vee said; Nicolle turned her head to look at the passing Hummer. Dominic was yelling; the others were laughing. After taking the time to ensure no other cars were near Dominic vanished from the Hummer and reappeared in the Cruiser, but not quite on target; he landed on top of Peter in the very back.

            “Sorry bout that,” Dominic said. Peter simply nodded before Dominic vanished again, this time returning to his seat. “I've told him not to teleport when we're going down the road, it's too dangerous... he could end up out in the road. Jackson gunned it at the last second right then to try and throw me off...”

            Vee had her TOP SECRET notebook back out, a vindictive hand slashing points. “Five for Jackson. Ten for Darius...”

            “So, before anyone dies or teleports away or starts another telepathic argument, where are we going?” Elyse asked. “Suggestions, people!”

            Dominic: “Fast food.”

            Vee: “No, something classier, let's try that new Italian place...”

            Maria: “I wanted to run by that two story bookstore, let's stop there!”

            Peter: “We could use our Artistries to go fight crime.”

            Elyse: “Nicolle, ideas?”

            Nicolle: “Um... no.”

            Dominic: “I don't really want to do the sit-down-and-eat thing today.”

            Vee: “Boo on you.”

            Maria: “I'm not even hungry, really. None of us should be yet, theoretically; we had lunch not too long ago... the food should still be residing somewhere in our small intestine"”

            Elyse: “Still don't know where I'm headed, guys.”

            Vee: “Papa Lorenzo's, go there.”

            Dominic: “Mickey Dee's. My Green Eyes are seeing golden fries. That's an executive order, case closed.”

            Elyse: “Nicolle, tie breaker, Papa Lorenzo's or McDonald's?”

            Vee: “Darling, who's your best girl, huh?”

            Dominic: “I'll deduct all of your points if you say Papa Lorenzo's, Nicolle.”

            Nicolle: “Um...”

           

            Somehow the Chess Club found themselves in the drive-thru of a fast food joint called Shootin' Beans, a name which induced in Maria nearly incurable laughter. Each Chess Clubber took turns yelling their order out the window; Elyse informed everyone that she sensed “some pretty annoyed people inside”, apparently at the massive order. The tab came to nearly eighty dollars, the Chess Club treasury picking up the bill. Bagged food in hand, they drove to a public playground nearby to eat, a kid's kingdom covered in wood chips and tall, climbable structures. Even outside of the school, Nicolle saw, the Chess Club drew stares.

            “It's as if we're celebrities or something,” Nicolle said to Vee. Everyone was sitting at the picnic tables away from the playground itself, everyone except Jackson, who had decided to join a tug-o-war between two groups of children. Now all of them had taken to one side, Jackson the other, the Artist of the Red holding his end of the rope with one hand casually.

            “You get used to it after a certain amount of time,” Vee responded. “Dominic's dad had theories about why, too.”

            “You mean it's not just the clothes and sunglasses?” Nicolle asked.

            Vee chewed her burger for a moment, shaking her head. “He didn't think so. People's bodies seem to interact with one another anyway"”

            “They do,

            “-- and Roland Beaumont thought that Artists generated more of a response that others do. Or something.”

            “That's about right,” Dominic said. “It's never been explained to you Nicolle, how you became an Artist? We don't know how it works but being around other Artists increases a person's chances of changing. Artist's bodies interact with normal people's bodies, we think, which causes the change.”

            “So, really, everyone at Maple Hill High School has a higher chance of becoming an Artist,” Elyse added. “I moved here, so I must have changed on my own " unless I passed an Artist and didn't know it " but Dominic and Elijah changed Vee, and I assume everyone else changed because they came into contact with the Chess Club at some point.”

            About fifty yards away Jackson, still one handed, gave the rope an easy tug, and all thirty or so children came tumbling forward. He slapped his knee and laughed, looking around for impressed passerbys.

            “Not me,” Brooklyn said, lazily chewing a taco. “I moved here too.”

            “That's right, I forgot,” Elyse said.

            “For Mr. Beaumont to come to these conclusions without a Purple Artistry...” Maria mused aloud, shaking her head in awe. “Quite remarkable. Very impressive.”

            “People have been making discoveries and inventing things without a Purple Artistry for years, Maria,” Peter giggled. Maria " seeming a little more at ease with him than the other Chess Clubbers " playfully shoved him.

            Nicolle watched Dominic. His eyes were on the picnic table, unfocused, lost in thought. Unless either of the Artists of the Blue had taken a look inside his head Nicolle thought it possible that she alone knew what was troubling him. Roland Beaumont had been missing for around six or seven years, something like that; Elijah didn't seem particularly bothered by the absence, but for Dominic

            and I miss you Dad. So. Talk to you later.

            it seemed like he was in some kind of pain, the pain of a loved one being far away and long silent.

            After eating everyone spread out to do their own thing, whether being to casually swing on the swing sets, play basketball on the court (without Artistries, to the disappointment of Darius and Jackson), or, in Dominic's case, stand alone and silent near the entrance, looking out into the wind swayed trees. Vee watched him with unhidden worry, she and Nicolle alone on a bench beneath a lonely oak.

            “Stupid boy,” she said. “He acts so tough all the time, won't let me talk to him. Talk him through it.”

            There was no point in hiding it from Vee. “I overheard him on the phone earlier. I think he was trying to call his dad.”

            Vee nodded, pulling her windbreaker tight around her. “He was. You know, the Chess Club searches for Artists daily, using YouTube or whatever we can to locate people and educate them, and help them, to get them here. Everyone in the Club knows that. But they don't know that Dom and I have been trying to find his pa, too. Constantly doing whatever we can, searching whatever sites, whatever, to try and find even a hint of where Roland Beaumont can be found. Did you know we even drove up to Maine once, following a lead?” Nicolle shook her head. “A really small lead. What we found was a nasty old bar. I got hit by some gross old men and Dom told them to screw off, and it was just crazy. We came home empty handed.”

            “I'm sorry for changing the subject, but before I forget... you said you drove to Maine. Why didn't Dom just teleport you guys?” Nicolle was careful to whisper; though they were pretty far away from anyone else " children's happy yells and the soft, stirring wind providing audio cover " she wanted to be sure.

            “The Green Artistry doesn't work like that,” Vee said, and then stood up in a flash: “JACKSON!”

            Nicolle looked up; Jackson, undoubtedly charged with extra strength, was pushing Darius on the swings, causing Darius to actually make full rotations. Darius was laughing, Jackson was laughing, all of the surrounding little ones were laughing, nearby parents covered their mouths with their hands...

            Jackson threw his hands into the air as if to say I'm innocent, a huge grin on his face; losing momentum in midair Darius was dumped out of the swing. Nicolle had a fear that he would vanish from sight, teleporting to avoid injury, indoctrinating all of the children in the Green Artistry on the spot, but thankfully no: he hit the wood chipped playground floor with a laugh-filled crash. Kids converged on him as if he were a hero. Vee sighed heavily, massaging her temples.

            “Anyway,” Nicolle started back up, “the Green Artistry doesn't work that way, you said.”

            Vee nodded, rubbing her eyes beneath her shades. “No, Artists of the Green don't have full access to transport anywhere they want to. Time and space are pretty complex, the way it bends, the whole nature of it. To answer your question, they can only teleport to places that are within sight, or places that are pretty close. But Dom knows a way " he hasn't told Darius, so keep this under your hat " he knows a way to place your own 'signature' on time-space, or something like that. It takes a long time to place this 'signature' on a spot so he hasn't done it in many places, but once it's done he can teleport to that spot anytime from anywhere. It takes something like four hours to place a signature on a spot so he only has two that I know of, to his bedroom and to Room 44.”

            “Hm.” That was kind of cool. And useful.

            “But anyway,” Vee said, noticeably reverting back to a slightly damp mood. “I found on a website a few days ago " it was on a forum about supernatural things, like ghosts and specters and stuff " a comment left by someone with the screen name darkman946. He was responding to a comment by a person who was claiming to suddenly be able to see spirits.”

            Nicolle's eyebrows asked the question; Vee shrugged.

            “May have been an Artist of the Black, may not. Who knows. But darkman946 responded and said something to the effect of 'my name's Roland. Give me a call on this number, yadda-yadda-yadda... I'll see what I can do for you.' It was kind of scary to find that, you know, Darling? To see that there, the smallest hint after nearly a decade of silence that Dom's dad may still be alive. But it may not have been him. Probably wasn't him, but who knows. Dom's tried the number three times and gets nothing. He's desperate to find him.”

            I miss you Dad. So. Talk to you later.

            “Elijah mentioned his father when we were alone earlier today,” Nicolle said, Elijah's very name causing her voice to tremble, causing his sunglasses on her face to tighten, causing the spot of his magic touch to inflame.

            “Right, you were supposed to tell me all about that,” Vee said, turning to face Nicolle with a smile. “I'm surprised he mentioned his pa though... it's not a subject he likes much. In fact, we haven't even told him about that number we found.”

            “I wish I'd have known how he felt before going in, I think I might have irritated him,” Nicolle said. “He... doesn't like his dad much.”

            Vee shook her head, looking out to Dominic as she spoke. His figure was impressive, standing in the soft wind, leather jacket around him, thousand-yard stare. “Dom, I think, sees his dad like someone would view their father joining the military or something. Like he left home to pursue a valid cause. 'To find my place in the world' was how Roland himself put it before leaving all those years ago. He left to study and understand Artistries, to learn more. Dom thinks it was to help others. He respects him greatly for it. Elijah sees his dad like someone would view a deserter, the kind of guy who, you know, goes out for cigarettes and doesn't come back, ditching his family. Elijah saw how hard life got for them and their mother and resented his dad for it, like he was pursuing pleasure over responsibility.”

            “One of them respects,” Nicolle though aloud, “the other resents.”

            “Bingo. They actually aren't that different, Dom and Eli, but on that subject they are way different. Maybe I should tell you, just in case you've worried about it any, that Eli doesn't hate you. You remember the day you were initiated, how he stayed to himself, didn't say much? He was seeing Black Eyes for the first time in years. It reminded him of his father. Roland Beaumont was an Artist of the Black.”

            “I heard that when Dom was on the phone... shocked me.”

            “And from what I understand he was good at it. Like, he really understood the Black Artistry. The things he could do, it was insane.”

            “It's nice to hear that Elijah doesn't hate me, though,” Nicolle said, and meant it.

            “We need to change his perception of Black Eyes. Make him think sweetly of you and not angrily of his pa,” Vee said with a grin. “So you gonna tell me about what went down?”

            Nicolle grinned; she still wasn't used to being a girl just yet, but she was enjoying it. But still, even as she gave her Blue Eyed friend a play-by-play of she and Elijah's time together (excluding certain parts, such as her gasping at his touch), she wondered about Dominic and Roland, and Elijah and Roland, and what the future held for the Beaumont family.

 

            Exhilarating; that was the word to describe the remainder of the day. Nicolle was a passenger on the roller coaster Chess Club, taking in the ups (such as the Frisbee match had in a secluded pasture, Peter and Jackson throwing it for three hundred yards or more, Darius and Dominic catching them through teleportation high in the sky) and taking in the downs (Brooklyn using Blue Artistry to rob a girl of her boyfriend at a cafe). What was the rest of the world doing...? Where was Timmy... how was he doing? What about Sylvia mother-extraordinaire... was she back yet from the hospital? And Granddaddy Longlegs... Nicolle missed him.

            It was night; they had returned to the playground so that “the boys” could play whatever sport they wanted with the help of Artistries, the cover of darkness shielding them from foreign eyes. There were no foreign eyes, though, only those of the Chess Club, and it wasn't likely for anyone to show up; after years of training Elyse had taught herself what she called the Go Away Artistry, which essentially made incoming others suddenly decide to go elsewhere. No one knew if it was working because no one had tried to join them.

            A bon fire had been lit about thirty yards from the basketball court shortly after dusk, a move to combat the February chill. With the exception of Brook, who was off somewhere with the boyfriend she had stolen, the girls of the Chess Club were huddled around the fire.

            “Everything okay?” Elyse asked Nicolle, tilting her head as she asked. “I'm sensing some worry in you... want me to see if I can't induce a little more relaxation?”

            Nicolle smiled. “No, it's okay.”

            “You better be okay, Darling,” Vee said, shoving her completely off the cement block Nicolle had been sitting on. “These are happy times. Brook's not here, all the boys are being boys"”

            As if on cue, Darius: “NO, no, no, no, no, stop the clock... Peter! Do you not know how to play basketball?!”

            “-- and all the girls are being girls.”

            “Time to talk about boys!” Elyse laughed. “What about you Maria, you got your eye on anyone?”

            “Uh uh,” Maria said.

            “Ohhh, the results are in and my Fib Finder Artistry finds that that is a lie,” Elyse said, eyeing Maria with a grin.

            “Am I gonna have to go digging, Maria, or are you gonna tell us?” Vee asked. Maria stayed silent, apparently embarrassed. “I am in the business of coaching young ladies on how to get the guy of their dreams, and at the moment at no charge to the young lady!”

            “Maybe later,” Maria said with a nervous smile.

            “How about you, Nicolle?” Elyse asked. “You have someone on your mind?”

            “Do you have someone on your mind?” Nicolle asked, avoiding the question.

            “I do,” Elyse said. “Do you ladies know Elliot King? He's the one always in those suits, for the Beta Club things...?”

            “I know him,” Maria said.

            “Him,” Elyse said, and Nicolle laughed. “I'd drink that boy’s bath water, as far as I'm concerned.”

            Nicolle looked up at the basketball game, hoping if she appeared to leave the conversation that no one would push her on her crush. It looked like they were separated into Team Red and Team Green based on Artistries; Team Green had the benefit of teleportation, Team Red the benefit of fast passes and never growing tired. Peter had the ball and he didn't look particularly skilled with it; dribbling too close to his running feet he clipped the ball, sending it rolling directly for the bon fire. Maria yelped and jumped away but her move wasn't necessary; to her rescue was Dominic, teleporting to the ball, his feet never touching the ground, and then back to the court.

            “I'm gonna take a picture,” Vee said. “You gals ready?”

            She pulled her phone from her pocket and hustled everyone close together. The moment locked into Nicolle's mind, a memory in the making; forever she would remember the warmth of the fire on her face, the glow of red and orange, the laughter of her friends. When at last the picture was taken " her face squished in between Vee's right cheek and Elyse's left, Maria's chin resting directly on top of her head " a thought came to Nicolle and was gone, a passing, quickly forgotten notion: how long will this last?

            Whether with thanks to the Go Away Artistry or something else, the Chess Club (minus Elijah, whom Nicolle's mind consistently went to, wondering where he was, what he was up to) was left alone late into the night, the stars shining down on the dying embers of their fire. When the next morning came and Nicolle's thoughts returned to the night hours before it all came in flashes " boys transporting into treetops, Elyse playing the lie detector, Nicolle killing an already nearly dead tree so Peter could push it down and use it as a bridge, Maria laughing uncontrollably " it all came in flashes save for that one moment. That moment of joy, of wholeness, that dreamy moment of smiles. 

            Never before had Nicolle really given much thought to her future, but now she did. She wondered what life had in store for her. If the years ahead were anything like that long, long Monday (Alyssa's mess drowned out amongst the good of the rest), Nicolle hoped it would never end.

            But faintly, so faintly: how long will this last?