The Sister and the Friend
Celia Grover hated mornings. There was something about the sunny, cheerful, 'we got the whole day ahead of us!' attitude that Celia just did not like. While she enjoyed being alert, and she loved having days to spend, waking up to them was awful.
Tired, and a little cold, Celia stomped her way into the bathroom that Florence and she shared. As she tugged at her hair with a hairbrush, Florence seemed to wake up. She stumbled into the light green room, and scratched her nose. Her eyes had gunk at the ends of them, and were dark and saggy. This was testament to the little sleep she had gotten.
“Out late last night?” Celia asked. Florence nodded and grabbed her toothbrush.
“Yup.”
“Doing what?” Celia yanked at a tough knot on the left side of her head.
Florence looked at her. “I was out with Queen Bee.” Celia felt some sort of disappointment course through her, but she of course wasn't there to tell her sister what she could or could not do. “Celia, you're going to have to get used to me fighting with her.”
She could think of a million snarky responses, and even some lovey sister responses, but instead she just set her brush down. “I don't care what you do, Florence.” With that, she left the bathroom and headed downstairs. She knew her sister didn't believe her, but what did she care?
She walked into the kitchen and found her parents there. Mom was just kissing Dad goodbye. She sat down and stared at them as he walked out of the building to make his train. Celia waved goodbye to her father and stuffed a tart in her mouth.
“Morning mom,” she said through the food. Her mother laughed.
“I'm sorry honey, I don't speak food-in-mouth,” she said through giggles. The plain and beautiful sarcasm of it made Celia smile. Crumbs of tart fell out of her mouth when she did so, just making her laugh harder.
“Good morning,” Florence said tersely when she entered the kitchen. She sat down, not looking up in some sort of embarrassment.
“Good morning!” Mother said, not noticing the awkward air. “You look tired, sweetie. Is everything okay?” She looked at Florence knowingly.
“I'm fine mom. Just a little worn thin.”
“You should take it easy Florence. You need to rest.” She patted Florence's head. “Well,” she started after a brief pause. “I'm off to work. Can't really be too early, you know?” Then Mother was gone too.
“She's right, you know,” Celia said quietly. Florence looked at her.
“Well I didn't ask her, and I didn't ask you. I'm off to school.” She grabbed her bag and disappeared out the door, leaving Celia alone with her head down, hair brushing wildly in the breeze of their mercurial departure.
...
Celia was in gym class. How she hated gym class! Every single time, her gym teacher Mr. Bywer would always make them run in endless loops around the gym. This was of course after torturing them in the yoga-like stretch department and forcing them to play some annoying game that would always leave them worn thin. Then came the running for the rest of the gym class.
“Running is healthy for you!” he accosted them as they passed him. “Lift your legs and count your breaths!”
Celia wanted to tell him to shut up, but she was too out of breath to even think it too vehemently.
His whistle blew loud and clear, causing all the runners to stop. Celia let her head fall, her hands resting on her knees to support her while she collapsed in on herself. There was a collective groan as the class sought to catch more air in the lungs. “Get changed!” ordered Mr. Bywer. He didn't have to say it twice.
Celia changed. Her gym clothes consisted of a white shirt and blue shirt, and white and blue shorts. Her shoes were white and her socks blue. Everything Celia used for gym class was either white or blue.
Not everything, she reflected, putting a hand on her necklace. She sighed heavily.
“Hey Celia!” called a sharp voice. Celia turned her head curiously just in time to see Keelie slam her locker shut and trot over. “What's up?”
Celia didn't even bother to answer. She turned back to her locker and put her gym shoes back in the top level. She made sure her shirt and shorts were hanging neatly before shutting the locker. Unlike the rest of the class, Celia didn't slam her locker door when she was done with it. To her, it was counterproductive. Instead of making you look cool, it made you look angry. She was not normally an angry or violent person, and it took just as long to quietly close the locker, so she chose the easier and silent way. She let her hair fan out behind her and shook her head. If she were to cut off all her hair, she might loose maybe 10 pounds.
Keelie hadn't moved or said anything else. Clearly she expected an answer. Celia sighed and looked at her. Keelie was a completely different life-form, she thought. She had auburn hair that was long, but not quite as long as Celia's own black mop. Her eyes were peridot green. Her thin lips formed into a falsely warm smile that almost made Celia blink. Almost.
“Umm....nothing,” she answered in monotone, hoping that her cold shoulder would drive Keelie away. The last thing she wanted was some peppy cheerful girl to try and be friendly with her. Or snoop into her life.
“Oh,” Keelie answered dejectedly. The moment of hope that Celia had vanished into thin air. “Well, you did great in gym class today! Are you thinking of joining any teams?”
Celia exhaled slowly through her nose. She then forced her eyes to stare right into Keelie's own and said as deadpan as she could get. “I don't work well with others.” She turned and walked away from the quiet Keelie.
There was a moment of silence behind her, then footfalls as Keelie followed her. Celia felt her feet as they sent vibrations through the floor. She continued walking.
“Celia wait!” Celia stopped dead cold as Keelie caught up with her. She wondered what was going to be said, but at first there was nothing said. Then, “I noticed that at lunch you sit alone. We have an open spot at our table, if you want to join us.” She was asking without really asking. Celia looked at her.
“I'm good, thanks.”
...
Celia stared at her bought lunch. It was steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. Most school-food was gross, but Celia thought this food looked rather appetizing to a just-out-of-gym student like herself.
“It's gross, isn't it?” asked Jackie Reece. Celia peered up at her from under bangs, then glanced around the table. Brigida Solos, Igraine Tittensor, Priscilla Nichi, Jacques Garcon, and Jaden Abramsen stared at her from around the table. At their head was Keelie Havick—the head of the monsters herself.
Celia hadn't wanted to sit with these people, but she had been brought over by Priscilla. Prissy, as she had asked to be called, wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Celia sighed. She had seriously underestimated Keelie's determination.
Celia didn't say anything, just stared back at them. If this was a staring contest, the others didn't stand a chance. After a moment of silence following the question, Jacques spoke reluctantly. “Yeah, I agree with you Jackie.”
The table was embedded in awkward silence for a moment. Priscilla broke it, of course. “I kind of like it.” There was another moment, then the table went to normal chit-chat. Of course, Celia was not included in their conversation. The only ones left staring at her were Keelie and Jaden. Celia glared at them for a moment before taking a bite of her food. She let her long black curls mask her face for her.
Unexpectedly, it was Jaden who broke the wall between Celia and the rest of the table. “Celia, how is your day going?”
The table was once again staring at her. Gosh dangit, Jaden. She looked up at him in shock. “Umm...” she mumbled through the food. “Good.” She let her brown eyes stare at Jaden's gray for a moment longer.
“Good,” he said. “What's up?”
“Nothing.” She made it her goal to only answer in one word answers.
He tilted his head a confused look crossing his face. Celia stared at him then looked down at the table. Lunch went by quietly for her after that.
As she got up to leave the cafeteria, she heard footsteps following her out. They were rushed, as though the other was in a hurry. She stepped to the side to let them pass her, but to her surprise Jaden stopped right in front of her.
“It was cool of you to come sit with us at lunch today, but you could have been nicer,” he said instantly.
No hellos? Oh, my bad. I forgot you're part of the peppy club. She thought.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured quietly, looking at him.
“Celia, we're not trying to be rude to you. We just want to get to know you, not have you completely on your own.” He looked into her eyes. “Why're you so angry?”
Celia blinked. Angry? “I'm not.”
“Then why are you withdrawn?”
Stone silence erupted in her. Who did this boy think he was to tell her what she was and was not? She stared at him blankly for a minute. After a moment of awkward silence, he sighed. “Well Celia, we're here for you whether you like it or not.” He brushed past her leaving her staring at the glass window at the end of the hall. “And I'm not sorry.”
...
Celia couldn't get any alone time after that. It was hard for her to get anywhere between classes because Keelie and her minions would seek her out of the crowd and go out of their way to talk to her. Celia only responded every now and then, but Jaden had the rest of the clan convinced that they would soon have her “fully out of her shell”. To Celia it was just annoying.
It became even more annoying when school let out. “Hey Celia!” Keelie called, rushing up to meet her. “What are you doing after school today?”
“Nothing.”
“Wanna hang out?”
Celia couldn't say yes because she didn't want to 'hang out', but she couldn't say no because she knew she would end up 'hanging out' anyway. And so it was she was walking with Keelie to the closer Mid-class ring after school. Off to an unknown destination and an unknown destiny, Celia thought her favorite quote. It had been in a book she had read for her entrance exams to Little Rock. The book had been called, “Cecelia and the Flower”. She had read it because it was over 500 pages—the proper length for her to write a full review—and the character's name was similar to her own.
The plot of the story had followed a young lady servant named Cecelia who was soon to be married to a strange man who lead an even stranger life. The moral of the story was about arranged marriages and their affect on society at large. Celia had, in the end, liked the book.
Keelie marched them up a small walkway to a tiny tan house. “It's not much,” she said dreamily, “but it's home.” Like Cecelia in the book, she was now being forced into the home of a stranger.
The home was actually quite cozy. It had a second floor, and an open balcony. In Celia's home, the balcony overlooked the backyard pool, and it was her parents' room, so Florence and she never really used it. But it appeared to be a different story for the Havick home. Celia really didn't have time to tell though, before she was marched into the place. From the kitchen called a voice.
“Lucy, is that you? You better not have that boy here again!” Out popped the head of a complete stranger to Celia. The woman had painfully red/black hair that had lightened over the years. Celia could only guess that this was Keelie's mother. “Oh. Who are you?”
Celia looked Keelie then back to Mrs. Havick. “Celia Grover.” She held out her hand for the newcomer to shake.
“Oh. I'm Charlotte, Keelie's mother. You can just call me Charlotte.” She nodded while she spoke. “Umm...I didn't know you were coming, I'm sorry.” Her face flushed in embarrassment, but Celia drew a blank. “For the mess? And my appearance.” Silence. “Okay...well, I'm gonna be in the kitchen if you need me. Does your mother know you're here?” Celia shook her head slowly and looked around again. “Well then I'm sending you home before dark. You can hang out for a moment longer then get out of here. I'm not holding you hostage.”
“I don't usually go home after school,” Celia admitted quickly. She didn't know why, but she was in no rush to go home. “I go to the market.” She looked at her hands.
“Oh. Well still. I think it'd be better for your mother to know where you're at.” Charlotte didn't leave room for argument. She swished back into the kitchen before Celia could respond, anyway.
“Why do you go to the market?” asked Keelie invasively.
“Umm...I go to this...place.” She shrugged helplessly, shaking her head. “My, uh, friend works there.” Her eyes went blank as she remembered the night of the last big battle. She blinked it away. “And anyway, sometimes they need help.”
Keelie nodded, not quite believing what she had heard. “Uh huh.” She smiled at Celia, flopping down on the couch. “So, what do you think?”
Celia stared. “Of what?”
“Of us?” Keelie asked like it should be obvious. “Do you think we make a good team?” Celia didn't even blink but repeated her earlier statement of the day.
“I don't work well in teams.”
“Right.” Keelie said shortly. She leaned forward. “Like your sister. When you helped her after the battle. Lucy told me about it. You seemed to work well then.”
“That's different. She's my sister.”
Keelie nodded. “Yeah. Sisters always work well together. And there's something different about a sister.” She shoved her arm out, sticking right in front of Celia's nose. Pure confusion swarmed Celia's usually blank face. “Like my bracelet. My sister made it for me. I couldn't go anywhere without it.” Except when you're fighting. “What about your necklace? Did your sister make that for you? I noticed you wear it in gym class even though you're not supposed to.”
Celia sighed. Is that was this was all about? Then it hit her. Her necklace and her monster. Keelie was looking for Aloe, and she thought Celia was it.
“Actually,” Celia said, guarded. “I made my necklace.” Keelie looked at her darkly.
“It's really unique. It reminds me of...” she tilted her head and smirked at Celia. The gleam of her hint was in her eyes.
“Of?”
“This strange girl I met once. I've only seen her a couple of times. She had a necklace just like that. I was wondering if you knew her.”
Celia stood up, grabbing her things. “I don't know anyone, Keelie. In case you've forgotten, I live in a shell. Now I must be going. I've got to be getting home.”
“But I thought you go the market.”
Celia let the door slam on her way out.
...
“I don't know, Florence. This isn't looking good.” Celia's voice cracked, uncharacteristically raising a few pitches in her near panic. Her feet thumped the carpet of her room as she paced like a caged animal.
“Celia, relax. Maybe it's not as bad as you think,” Florence tried to calm her sister's troubled behavior.
“You didn't see her face today, Florence. She wants to know, and she's on to me.”
At this Florence stood and grabbed her sister's shoulders. “Celia, stop!” she commanded. “You're not Aloe, are you?” Celia shook her head slowly, retreating inside herself. “So then you don't have to worry. She's not looking for you. She's looking for me. And she'll soon figure this out.”
Celia nodded ponderously. “But I would lead her to you.”
“That's my problem. I'm the one who agreed to join her. Not you. You don't have to worry about it.”
“But you're my sister! I'm not going to lead her right to you.”
Florence smiled at her sister. The unbreakable bond that they had was something she would never regret or forget. She felt her mind slowly release the tension as she stared into her sister's brown eyes. What a soothing look. “I appreciate that, Celia. You don't know how much your worry means to me. But I don't want you to worry about me. I can take care of myself, you know? I'm a big girl now.”
Celia laughed breathlessly. She glanced at the floor, then back up to her sister. “I know. I love you sis.”
“You too.” Florence didn't feel the smile. She didn't have to. She pulled her sister into a hug and held tight. “I have to go now, and face the Queen. I'll see you later, all right?”
Celia nodded. Florence ran out back to their parents' balcony and transformed into her monster. As she flew away, Aloe had to think of something to say to the Queen to convince her to leave the Grover family alone. She didn't really have many excuses as to why, or how she knew. She'd think of something.
She landed at their usual meeting space and saw Queen Bee silhouetted by the moon. She narrowed her eyes and stared at the younger heroine. “Good evening,” she said slowly.
Queen didn't turn to face her. “Do you like being in a team, Aloe?” Aloe nodded, realized the Queen couldn't see her and made a noise of confirmation. The Queen tilted her head. “Oh. We work well together. Don't you think?”
“Yes, I do,” Aloe answered earnestly.
Queen Bee looked at her. “You baffle me, Aloe. You really do. You know why?” Aloe shook her head slowly.
“No idea, Queen Bee.”
“You baffle me because you say you trust me, you want to work with me, but I don't know who you even are! How can I trust you? How do I know you won't do something stupid?”
Aloe narrowed her eyes and nodded. “I can understand how you would want to know. But I can promise you you don't need to know, Queen.”
Queen glared at her. “How do I know you're right?”
Aloe shrugged. “I guess you'll just have to trust me.” She looked at the younger heroine purposefully. She knew that Keelie was not going to easily just leave her quest to know. For reasons that were sensible, she wanted to know who Aloe really was.
“Aloe, why are you uncomfortable with me knowing? What's wrong with me? I'll even tell you who I am.”
Aloe blinked and looked at her with her purple eyes. The knowledge of the Queen's real identity tasted on her tongue. But she only said, “I don't need to know who you are to trust you, Queen. And I feel that you should think the same with me. Right now, I just want us to be work-partners. If ever there comes a time when I feel you should know who I am, I'll tell you. But for right now, I don't want you knowing. You're just gonna have to respect that.”
Queen took a deep breath and stared at the ground. “And please,” Aloe continued. “Don't pursue this on your own. You have no idea what you'd be getting involved with.” or who. She left that last part unsaid.
Queen's head snapped up and she looked at Aloe for one long, deliberating second. There was silence in the air between them, then Queen Bee nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I don't agree with your hiding your identity from me, but I understand. I think. So I'm just gonna go with it. For now.”
Aloe nodded. “Thank you.” In the distance, the sound of breaking glass was followed by a shrieking alarm. “Now let's go. We have work to do.”
...
Celia sat on her blankets and stared blankly at her wall. Her black hair spilled around her on the bed and blanketed the wall. She took deep breath, lost in thought about what she had said to Keelie and her friends earlier. I don't work well with others.
She looked over at her computer desk, then stood and picked up the book that was resting on it. Cecelia and the Flower
The cover was beautiful. It showed a young girl with long brown hair that fell to her mid-arms. Her face was blurred. She was staring at something that the reader couldn't see off the edge of the page. Behind her, a sunflower had bloomed and was shining in full color, so bright it turned the rest of the page sepia. Cecelia and the Flower was printed in beautiful cursive on the top of the page.
Celia held the book against her chest and curled up on her blankets again. She had liked the end of the book. Despite the oddity of the arranged marriage, Cecelia and her lover had led a happy life together. They had made it work.
Feeling a warm tear sting her eye and roll down her cheek, Celia closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
Celia Grover hated mornings. There was something about the sunny, cheerful, 'we got the whole day ahead of us!' attitude that Celia just did not like. While she enjoyed being alert, and she loved having days to spend, waking up to them was awful.
Tired, and a little cold, Celia stomped her way into the bathroom that Florence and she shared. As she tugged at her hair with a hairbrush, Florence seemed to wake up. She stumbled into the light green room, and scratched her nose. Her eyes had gunk at the ends of them, and were dark and saggy. This was testament to the little sleep she had gotten.
“Out late last night?” Celia asked. Florence nodded and grabbed her toothbrush.
“Yup.”
“Doing what?” Celia yanked at a tough knot on the left side of her head.
Florence looked at her. “I was out with Queen Bee.” Celia felt some sort of disappointment course through her, but she of course wasn't there to tell her sister what she could or could not do. “Celia, you're going to have to get used to me fighting with her.”
She could think of a million snarky responses, and even some lovey sister responses, but instead she just set her brush down. “I don't care what you do, Florence.” With that, she left the bathroom and headed downstairs. She knew her sister didn't believe her, but what did she care?
She walked into the kitchen and found her parents there. Mom was just kissing Dad goodbye. She sat down and stared at them as he walked out of the building to make his train. Celia waved goodbye to her father and stuffed a tart in her mouth.
“Morning mom,” she said through the food. Her mother laughed.
“I'm sorry honey, I don't speak food-in-mouth,” she said through giggles. The plain and beautiful sarcasm of it made Celia smile. Crumbs of tart fell out of her mouth when she did so, just making her laugh harder.
“Good morning,” Florence said tersely when she entered the kitchen. She sat down, not looking up in some sort of embarrassment.
“Good morning!” Mother said, not noticing the awkward air. “You look tired, sweetie. Is everything okay?” She looked at Florence knowingly.
“I'm fine mom. Just a little worn thin.”
“You should take it easy Florence. You need to rest.” She patted Florence's head. “Well,” she started after a brief pause. “I'm off to work. Can't really be too early, you know?” Then Mother was gone too.
“She's right, you know,” Celia said quietly. Florence looked at her.
“Well I didn't ask her, and I didn't ask you. I'm off to school.” She grabbed her bag and disappeared out the door, leaving Celia alone with her head down, hair brushing wildly in the breeze of their mercurial departure.
...
Celia was in gym class. How she hated gym class! Every single time, her gym teacher Mr. Bywer would always make them run in endless loops around the gym. This was of course after torturing them in the yoga-like stretch department and forcing them to play some annoying game that would always leave them worn thin. Then came the running for the rest of the gym class.
“Running is healthy for you!” he accosted them as they passed him. “Lift your legs and count your breaths!”
Celia wanted to tell him to shut up, but she was too out of breath to even think it too vehemently.
His whistle blew loud and clear, causing all the runners to stop. Celia let her head fall, her hands resting on her knees to support her while she collapsed in on herself. There was a collective groan as the class sought to catch more air in the lungs. “Get changed!” ordered Mr. Bywer. He didn't have to say it twice.
Celia changed. Her gym clothes consisted of a white shirt and blue shirt, and white and blue shorts. Her shoes were white and her socks blue. Everything Celia used for gym class was either white or blue.
Not everything, she reflected, putting a hand on her necklace. She sighed heavily.
“Hey Celia!” called a sharp voice. Celia turned her head curiously just in time to see Keelie slam her locker shut and trot over. “What's up?”
Celia didn't even bother to answer. She turned back to her locker and put her gym shoes back in the top level. She made sure her shirt and shorts were hanging neatly before shutting the locker. Unlike the rest of the class, Celia didn't slam her locker door when she was done with it. To her, it was counterproductive. Instead of making you look cool, it made you look angry. She was not normally an angry or violent person, and it took just as long to quietly close the locker, so she chose the easier and silent way. She let her hair fan out behind her and shook her head. If she were to cut off all her hair, she might loose maybe 10 pounds.
Keelie hadn't moved or said anything else. Clearly she expected an answer. Celia sighed and looked at her. Keelie was a completely different life-form, she thought. She had auburn hair that was long, but not quite as long as Celia's own black mop. Her eyes were peridot green. Her thin lips formed into a falsely warm smile that almost made Celia blink. Almost.
“Umm....nothing,” she answered in monotone, hoping that her cold shoulder would drive Keelie away. The last thing she wanted was some peppy cheerful girl to try and be friendly with her. Or snoop into her life.
“Oh,” Keelie answered dejectedly. The moment of hope that Celia had vanished into thin air. “Well, you did great in gym class today! Are you thinking of joining any teams?”
Celia exhaled slowly through her nose. She then forced her eyes to stare right into Keelie's own and said as deadpan as she could get. “I don't work well with others.” She turned and walked away from the quiet Keelie.
There was a moment of silence behind her, then footfalls as Keelie followed her. Celia felt her feet as they sent vibrations through the floor. She continued walking.
“Celia wait!” Celia stopped dead cold as Keelie caught up with her. She wondered what was going to be said, but at first there was nothing said. Then, “I noticed that at lunch you sit alone. We have an open spot at our table, if you want to join us.” She was asking without really asking. Celia looked at her.
“I'm good, thanks.”
...
Celia stared at her bought lunch. It was steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. Most school-food was gross, but Celia thought this food looked rather appetizing to a just-out-of-gym student like herself.
“It's gross, isn't it?” asked Jackie Reece. Celia peered up at her from under bangs, then glanced around the table. Brigida Solos, Igraine Tittensor, Priscilla Nichi, Jacques Garcon, and Jaden Abramsen stared at her from around the table. At their head was Keelie Havick—the head of the monsters herself.
Celia hadn't wanted to sit with these people, but she had been brought over by Priscilla. Prissy, as she had asked to be called, wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Celia sighed. She had seriously underestimated Keelie's determination.
Celia didn't say anything, just stared back at them. If this was a staring contest, the others didn't stand a chance. After a moment of silence following the question, Jacques spoke reluctantly. “Yeah, I agree with you Jackie.”
The table was embedded in awkward silence for a moment. Priscilla broke it, of course. “I kind of like it.” There was another moment, then the table went to normal chit-chat. Of course, Celia was not included in their conversation. The only ones left staring at her were Keelie and Jaden. Celia glared at them for a moment before taking a bite of her food. She let her long black curls mask her face for her.
Unexpectedly, it was Jaden who broke the wall between Celia and the rest of the table. “Celia, how is your day going?”
The table was once again staring at her. Gosh dangit, Jaden. She looked up at him in shock. “Umm...” she mumbled through the food. “Good.” She let her brown eyes stare at Jaden's gray for a moment longer.
“Good,” he said. “What's up?”
“Nothing.” She made it her goal to only answer in one word answers.
He tilted his head a confused look crossing his face. Celia stared at him then looked down at the table. Lunch went by quietly for her after that.
As she got up to leave the cafeteria, she heard footsteps following her out. They were rushed, as though the other was in a hurry. She stepped to the side to let them pass her, but to her surprise Jaden stopped right in front of her.
“It was cool of you to come sit with us at lunch today, but you could have been nicer,” he said instantly.
No hellos? Oh, my bad. I forgot you're part of the peppy club. She thought.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured quietly, looking at him.
“Celia, we're not trying to be rude to you. We just want to get to know you, not have you completely on your own.” He looked into her eyes. “Why're you so angry?”
Celia blinked. Angry? “I'm not.”
“Then why are you withdrawn?”
Stone silence erupted in her. Who did this boy think he was to tell her what she was and was not? She stared at him blankly for a minute. After a moment of awkward silence, he sighed. “Well Celia, we're here for you whether you like it or not.” He brushed past her leaving her staring at the glass window at the end of the hall. “And I'm not sorry.”
...
Celia couldn't get any alone time after that. It was hard for her to get anywhere between classes because Keelie and her minions would seek her out of the crowd and go out of their way to talk to her. Celia only responded every now and then, but Jaden had the rest of the clan convinced that they would soon have her “fully out of her shell”. To Celia it was just annoying.
It became even more annoying when school let out. “Hey Celia!” Keelie called, rushing up to meet her. “What are you doing after school today?”
“Nothing.”
“Wanna hang out?”
Celia couldn't say yes because she didn't want to 'hang out', but she couldn't say no because she knew she would end up 'hanging out' anyway. And so it was she was walking with Keelie to the closer Mid-class ring after school. Off to an unknown destination and an unknown destiny, Celia thought her favorite quote. It had been in a book she had read for her entrance exams to Little Rock. The book had been called, “Cecelia and the Flower”. She had read it because it was over 500 pages—the proper length for her to write a full review—and the character's name was similar to her own.
The plot of the story had followed a young lady servant named Cecelia who was soon to be married to a strange man who lead an even stranger life. The moral of the story was about arranged marriages and their affect on society at large. Celia had, in the end, liked the book.
Keelie marched them up a small walkway to a tiny tan house. “It's not much,” she said dreamily, “but it's home.” Like Cecelia in the book, she was now being forced into the home of a stranger.
The home was actually quite cozy. It had a second floor, and an open balcony. In Celia's home, the balcony overlooked the backyard pool, and it was her parents' room, so Florence and she never really used it. But it appeared to be a different story for the Havick home. Celia really didn't have time to tell though, before she was marched into the place. From the kitchen called a voice.
“Lucy, is that you? You better not have that boy here again!” Out popped the head of a complete stranger to Celia. The woman had painfully red/black hair that had lightened over the years. Celia could only guess that this was Keelie's mother. “Oh. Who are you?”
Celia looked Keelie then back to Mrs. Havick. “Celia Grover.” She held out her hand for the newcomer to shake.
“Oh. I'm Charlotte, Keelie's mother. You can just call me Charlotte.” She nodded while she spoke. “Umm...I didn't know you were coming, I'm sorry.” Her face flushed in embarrassment, but Celia drew a blank. “For the mess? And my appearance.” Silence. “Okay...well, I'm gonna be in the kitchen if you need me. Does your mother know you're here?” Celia shook her head slowly and looked around again. “Well then I'm sending you home before dark. You can hang out for a moment longer then get out of here. I'm not holding you hostage.”
“I don't usually go home after school,” Celia admitted quickly. She didn't know why, but she was in no rush to go home. “I go to the market.” She looked at her hands.
“Oh. Well still. I think it'd be better for your mother to know where you're at.” Charlotte didn't leave room for argument. She swished back into the kitchen before Celia could respond, anyway.
“Why do you go to the market?” asked Keelie invasively.
“Umm...I go to this...place.” She shrugged helplessly, shaking her head. “My, uh, friend works there.” Her eyes went blank as she remembered the night of the last big battle. She blinked it away. “And anyway, sometimes they need help.”
Keelie nodded, not quite believing what she had heard. “Uh huh.” She smiled at Celia, flopping down on the couch. “So, what do you think?”
Celia stared. “Of what?”
“Of us?” Keelie asked like it should be obvious. “Do you think we make a good team?” Celia didn't even blink but repeated her earlier statement of the day.
“I don't work well in teams.”
“Right.” Keelie said shortly. She leaned forward. “Like your sister. When you helped her after the battle. Lucy told me about it. You seemed to work well then.”
“That's different. She's my sister.”
Keelie nodded. “Yeah. Sisters always work well together. And there's something different about a sister.” She shoved her arm out, sticking right in front of Celia's nose. Pure confusion swarmed Celia's usually blank face. “Like my bracelet. My sister made it for me. I couldn't go anywhere without it.” Except when you're fighting. “What about your necklace? Did your sister make that for you? I noticed you wear it in gym class even though you're not supposed to.”
Celia sighed. Is that was this was all about? Then it hit her. Her necklace and her monster. Keelie was looking for Aloe, and she thought Celia was it.
“Actually,” Celia said, guarded. “I made my necklace.” Keelie looked at her darkly.
“It's really unique. It reminds me of...” she tilted her head and smirked at Celia. The gleam of her hint was in her eyes.
“Of?”
“This strange girl I met once. I've only seen her a couple of times. She had a necklace just like that. I was wondering if you knew her.”
Celia stood up, grabbing her things. “I don't know anyone, Keelie. In case you've forgotten, I live in a shell. Now I must be going. I've got to be getting home.”
“But I thought you go the market.”
Celia let the door slam on her way out.
...
“I don't know, Florence. This isn't looking good.” Celia's voice cracked, uncharacteristically raising a few pitches in her near panic. Her feet thumped the carpet of her room as she paced like a caged animal.
“Celia, relax. Maybe it's not as bad as you think,” Florence tried to calm her sister's troubled behavior.
“You didn't see her face today, Florence. She wants to know, and she's on to me.”
At this Florence stood and grabbed her sister's shoulders. “Celia, stop!” she commanded. “You're not Aloe, are you?” Celia shook her head slowly, retreating inside herself. “So then you don't have to worry. She's not looking for you. She's looking for me. And she'll soon figure this out.”
Celia nodded ponderously. “But I would lead her to you.”
“That's my problem. I'm the one who agreed to join her. Not you. You don't have to worry about it.”
“But you're my sister! I'm not going to lead her right to you.”
Florence smiled at her sister. The unbreakable bond that they had was something she would never regret or forget. She felt her mind slowly release the tension as she stared into her sister's brown eyes. What a soothing look. “I appreciate that, Celia. You don't know how much your worry means to me. But I don't want you to worry about me. I can take care of myself, you know? I'm a big girl now.”
Celia laughed breathlessly. She glanced at the floor, then back up to her sister. “I know. I love you sis.”
“You too.” Florence didn't feel the smile. She didn't have to. She pulled her sister into a hug and held tight. “I have to go now, and face the Queen. I'll see you later, all right?”
Celia nodded. Florence ran out back to their parents' balcony and transformed into her monster. As she flew away, Aloe had to think of something to say to the Queen to convince her to leave the Grover family alone. She didn't really have many excuses as to why, or how she knew. She'd think of something.
She landed at their usual meeting space and saw Queen Bee silhouetted by the moon. She narrowed her eyes and stared at the younger heroine. “Good evening,” she said slowly.
Queen didn't turn to face her. “Do you like being in a team, Aloe?” Aloe nodded, realized the Queen couldn't see her and made a noise of confirmation. The Queen tilted her head. “Oh. We work well together. Don't you think?”
“Yes, I do,” Aloe answered earnestly.
Queen Bee looked at her. “You baffle me, Aloe. You really do. You know why?” Aloe shook her head slowly.
“No idea, Queen Bee.”
“You baffle me because you say you trust me, you want to work with me, but I don't know who you even are! How can I trust you? How do I know you won't do something stupid?”
Aloe narrowed her eyes and nodded. “I can understand how you would want to know. But I can promise you you don't need to know, Queen.”
Queen glared at her. “How do I know you're right?”
Aloe shrugged. “I guess you'll just have to trust me.” She looked at the younger heroine purposefully. She knew that Keelie was not going to easily just leave her quest to know. For reasons that were sensible, she wanted to know who Aloe really was.
“Aloe, why are you uncomfortable with me knowing? What's wrong with me? I'll even tell you who I am.”
Aloe blinked and looked at her with her purple eyes. The knowledge of the Queen's real identity tasted on her tongue. But she only said, “I don't need to know who you are to trust you, Queen. And I feel that you should think the same with me. Right now, I just want us to be work-partners. If ever there comes a time when I feel you should know who I am, I'll tell you. But for right now, I don't want you knowing. You're just gonna have to respect that.”
Queen took a deep breath and stared at the ground. “And please,” Aloe continued. “Don't pursue this on your own. You have no idea what you'd be getting involved with.” or who. She left that last part unsaid.
Queen's head snapped up and she looked at Aloe for one long, deliberating second. There was silence in the air between them, then Queen Bee nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I don't agree with your hiding your identity from me, but I understand. I think. So I'm just gonna go with it. For now.”
Aloe nodded. “Thank you.” In the distance, the sound of breaking glass was followed by a shrieking alarm. “Now let's go. We have work to do.”
...
Celia sat on her blankets and stared blankly at her wall. Her black hair spilled around her on the bed and blanketed the wall. She took deep breath, lost in thought about what she had said to Keelie and her friends earlier. I don't work well with others.
She looked over at her computer desk, then stood and picked up the book that was resting on it. Cecelia and the Flower
The cover was beautiful. It showed a young girl with long brown hair that fell to her mid-arms. Her face was blurred. She was staring at something that the reader couldn't see off the edge of the page. Behind her, a sunflower had bloomed and was shining in full color, so bright it turned the rest of the page sepia. Cecelia and the Flower was printed in beautiful cursive on the top of the page.
Celia held the book against her chest and curled up on her blankets again. She had liked the end of the book. Despite the oddity of the arranged marriage, Cecelia and her lover had led a happy life together. They had made it work.
Feeling a warm tear sting her eye and roll down her cheek, Celia closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
