Faster We Burn

downstairs?” Dad gave me a look that meant he wanted to talk. At least he was more subtle about it than Mom.
    “See you later, future big brother,” I said to Adam as I followed Dad down the stairs to the basement. The violin music faded behind us, and I hoped Stryker would be okay on his own for a few minutes. My mom had a serious problem collecting furniture, bordering on an obsession, and most of it was stored in the basement. Since I’d been at school they’d painted the walls and moved some of it out of the way so you could at least walk from one side of the room to the other without climbing over something. Sort of.
    The bed for Kayla and Adam to share was shoved in a corner, so Dad and I moved it out a bit so they could at least get in and out of it without crashing into one of the lamps Mom couldn’t say no to, or the gigantic chest that could have passed for a coffin.
    “He’s an interesting young man you brought home, Katiebug. Is he your boyfriend?” He pulled a sheet set out of the ‘rustic’ dresser Mom had paid an arm and a leg for.
    “Well, Dad don’t beat around the bush.” We shook the sheets and set about making up the bed. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”
    “But you want him to be.”
    I wished everyone would stop asking me that. “I don’t know what I want. Right now, after everything with Zack, I can’t really think about dating. It’s just too complicated.”
    “I think that’s a good plan, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to work. Sometimes life gets in the way.”
    “Hmm,” I said tucking a corner of the fitted sheet over the mattress.
    “Mom doesn’t like him, does she?” I said.
    Dad spread the flat sheet out and started tucking it in, looking down at the drawing Stryker had done. He really was crazy talented.
    “I’m not so sure about him myself, Katie. He’s not who I would have chosen for you.”
    “I’m not choosing him. He’s just a guy I’m hanging out with.” That was all he needed to know. I would rather dive naked into a volcano than admit to Dad that Stryker and I were having casual sex. Hell, my parents hadn’t even had ‘the talk’ with me. They’d handed me one of those books with graphic anatomically correct drawings and said to come to them with any questions. Little did they know that Britt’s Dad had a secret porn collection we’d sampled during junior high sleepovers when her parents went to bed.
    “Have you heard from Zack?” Dad said as we tucked the quilt over the flat sheet. I knew he wouldn’t have brought it up, so Mom must have convinced him to do it.
    “Not really. I think his parents are keeping him on a short leash. I’ll have to see him soon enough.” Bless our legal system for drawing this whole thing out longer and longer.
    “He’s talented.” Dad tossed a pillowcase at me and I slid it over one of the pillows. It took me a second to shift gears and realize he wasn’t talking about Zack.
    “Yeah, he is.” I sighed. “He intimidates me.”
    “He is, ah,” he said, coughing, “intimidating.” Our eyes met and he smiled.
    “You really like him, don’t you?”
    I shrugged.
    “I don’t know what I feel anymore.” We finished with the bed and I glanced back up the stairs. “We should get back before Mom plans Kayla’s entire wedding.”
    “I never really liked Zack. Just so you know.” He put his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “You know how you feel, I think. You’re just scared because you’re hurt, but that will pass. You’ll figure it out.”
    “Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him back and we walked up the stairs together.

 
     
    Chapter Ten
     
     
    Stryker
     
    As the day wore on, the relatives departed, including Grampa Jack who gave me a hearty handshake, another wink, and a bit of advice.
    “Treat that girl right, you hear?”
    “Yes, sir.” He wheezed all the way down the steps as Katie’s Aunt Carol helped him into the backseat of the car.
    Mrs. Hallman was still shooting me disapproving looks whenever she could, and I had about had it. Yes, there were those people who were into body modification that got mad when people stared at them, but I wasn’t one of them. People stared. Get over it. If you didn’t like it, don’t go out, or don’t get modified.
    I’d told Zan that people judged you and put you in a box when they first met you. Mrs. Hallman had seen me, and put me in the “troublemakers who shouldn’t be allowed near