Cold Kiss

rude. “I’ll be downstairs if anyone wants to keep some more stuff from me.”
    I brace myself, but Mom doesn’t even bat an eyelash, and we stare at each other while Robin pounds down the stairs.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

    I BREAK BEFORE MOM DOES. BIG SURPRISE. SHE could outstare a Zen master.
    “So, am I grounded? No TV, no phone? What?”
    “Don’t start with me, Wren. I’m too angry.”
    I shrug. “Start what? There are consequences, I get that. I just want to know what they are.”
    Mom comes all the way into the room and shuts the door behind her. It’s not quite loud enough for a slam, but since she did it without touching the door, I get the message.
    “You really think it’s as simple as that? You cut school, I punish you, it’s all over?”
    I lift my chin and sit up straighter. “Why not? What else is there?”
    It’s dangerous to provoke her, especially right now, but in my head, so much of this is her fault. Even though in my heart I know that’s a lie, I want someone to blame, someone I can shout at, someone who’s not me.
    “Where were you today, Wren?” She’s bristling, her power practically shimmering around her in jagged sparks.
    “God, why do you care?” I fling the words at her as if they’ll actually break skin, draw blood. “Because I won’t tell you? Because I’m keeping a secret? What about your secrets, Mom? What about all the things you won’t tell me?”
    It feels good to shout, to open the door and let everything out, the way it did when I realized Gabriel knew what I was.
    “That’s not the issue here,” Mom says, and her voice is too calm, too steady. I can see her holding back, and I hate it. If I’m going to lose it, I want her to lose it, too. More than that, I want her to tell me the truth for once.
    “No? Well, I’m not dead and I’m not pregnant and I’m not on drugs, so you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay?” I fold my arms across my chest and stare up at her. Her eyes flash hot and angry. “You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”
    “Stop.” The room crackles and flares bright with lightning, but it’s not lightning, it’s her, and I have to hold myself steady to keep from shrinking back against the pillows.
    “Why, Mom? Because I’m actually being honest now?” I know Robin must be able to hear us—hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear us—but I don’t care about that.
    “You don’t understand, Wren.” The room is still pulsing with the last shudder of her outburst, as if her heartbeat is echoing in the air and the walls. “You don’t know anything about it.”
    “So tell me! Tell us!” I shake my head. She doesn’t have any idea how wrong she is. “I can do things, Mom. So can Robin! Did you think we weren’t going to notice?”
    “Wren,” Mom begins in a warning tone, holding up a hand, but I ignore it.
    “No!” I’m on my feet now, and practically screaming, but it feels right, the words pouring out with the tears now hot and wet on my face. “Forget it, Mom. I’m done. I’m done pretending, I’m done ignoring the stuff you don’t want to explain. This is part of me, part of us, our whole family, and we don’t even have that anymore. You don’t talk to Aunt Mari and Gram is dead and Dad is gone, and I know it has something to do with … this.” I wave my arms as if taking it all in, and let the energy surging inside me flash out in ripples of soundless vibrations that rattle the windows.
    “You don’t know anything about that,” Mom says, stepping closer, and she’s crying too now. “You don’t know…”
    Whatever it is, she can’t bring herself to finish the sentence, and I shake my head.
    “Well, I’m asking you to tell me,” I say, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. “This is my life, too, Mom! My life, me, and you act like this huge thing is just … nothing. I’m done. Done .”
    I snatch my backpack off the bed before she can react, and I’m long gone by the time thunder claps overhead and it starts to pour.
    There’s only one place to go, and Gabriel opens the door to the apartment looking as drained and broken as I feel.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask right away, but he just stands back so I can see into the living room.
    Where Danny is pacing, a pale column of a boy, holding himself stiff as he walks back and forth from the window to the far wall. He’s muttering, even though I can’t make out what he’s saying.
    When he turns around, he sees me and his face