Storm (Elemental 1)

Figured.

In the kitchen, her mother directed him to stand at the sink. “Let water run over those bites,” she said. “Puncture wounds like that can be a problem. What, did you have a run-in with a dog?”

“Something like that.” He did as her mother had directed, but Becca saw him glance her way.

“She’s a nurse,” Becca said. “You’re probably lucky Mom’s not wrestling you into the ER.”

“We’ll see what those look like when they’re cleaned up,” her mother said. “Then we’ll talk about wrestling. Becca, can you help me get a few things from the powder room?”

Becca frowned and followed her into the hallway. Her mom kept some of her medical stuff under the sink in the front bathroom, but it was just bandage tape and squares of gauze, nothing that required “help.” Becca probably could have gotten everything in one hand.

But her mom pointed at the commode. “Sit.”

Her voice was terse. Becca sat. “Mom, what’s—”

“I knew something was going on with you, Becca, and I thought you would tell me eventually.” Her mom flung open the cabinet below the sink.

How could she ever explain this? Becca swallowed. “Look, it’s complicated—”

“Oh, I know it’s complicated.” Her mom shoved a box of gauze into her hands, followed by a tube of Neosporin. “I didn’t think you’d hide things from me. Not something like this.”

Becca swallowed. “Mom, I just—I’m still figuring it out, and—”

“Well, I’ve figured it out,” her mother said. “That boy is way too old for you, Becca. Do you understand me?”

Wait a minute.

“Mom!” Becca stared at her. “You think—you think I’m dating Michael?”

Her mom stared back at her, obviously thrown. “You’re not?”

This would be hilarious if her mom didn’t look so serious.

“Oh my god,” cried Becca. “Are you kidding? Michael is the last person I would ever—oh my god. I wouldn’t go out with him if someone paid me. Ugh, that’s just—”

“You know I can hear you, right?” called Michael.

Becca flushed. “I’m friends with his younger brother,” she whispered. “His much younger brother. Chris Merrick. He’s in my class.” She hesitated, wondering how much to tell her mother. “Chris and his brothers didn’t come home from the dance last night. Michael’s trying to find out where they went.”

Her mother pulled the last of her supplies out of the cabinet. “Where are his parents?”

“They’re dead.” When her mom looked up in surprise, Becca nodded. “Michael’s like their legal guardian or something.”

That seemed to renew her mother’s mission to help him. Back in the kitchen, she started cleaning up Michael’s scrapes, ordering him to sit at the kitchen table, then ordering Becca to get him a plate of pancakes.

Michael glanced at the plate she slid in front of him. “I’m really not—”

“Eat,” her mother said. “You look like you’ve been up all night. Becca said your brothers never made it home after the dance?”

He glanced at Becca. She shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said. “The twins have stayed out all night before—but Chris isn’t—he’s not—”

His voice faltered. Becca reached out and put her hand over his.

He pulled it away and stared at the table. His jaw looked set.

Becca’s mom watched this whole interaction and rubbed Neosporin into the claw marks on his forearm. “Must be tough, looking after three teenage boys. How long have you been on your own?”