Page 46

Story: Drake and Danger

“I snuck out of bed and crept down the hallway, my ears perked to hear what was going on.The door to my parents’ bedroom was cracked, so the conversation was easy to hear—thoughnotso easy to understand.At least not for six-year-old me.”

“Oh—what were they talking about?”Megan asked, her green eyes wide with curiosity.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” I told her.“I’ll tell you what I heard and you see if you can figure it out…”

“It’s a very safe place,”my father was saying.“They have almost a ninety-five percent success rate.”

“You’re not mentioning the otherfivepercent,” my mother said, her voice flat.“The five percent who kill themselves when the conversion spell goes wrong.Like Jamie.”

“Oh for God’s sake!”my father snarled.“Why does it always come back to your brother?”

“Youknowwhy, Harold,” my mother snapped.“Because that’s what happened to him.My parents thought like you do—they decided it was worth the risk so they could have a ‘normal’ son.And look what happened—now they have no son at all.And I…I’ll never see my wonderful big brother again!”

There was a sob in her voice as though she was crying.I could almost see the tears standing in those big, blue eyes, which I had inherited from her.

“That’s very rare, Claire,” my father protested.“And the younger you send them to the camp, the higher the success rate!It only takes a few weeks to?—”

“No!”my mother shouted.“Will youlistento yourself?What if everyone wanted their son to have black hair but your son didn’t?Then some people came up to you and said—‘Hey, we’ve got this foolproof dye that will turn your son’s hair black ninety-five percent of the time.Of course, there’s a five percent chance it will make him hate himself so much he kills himself, but hey—at least he’ll die with black hair, just like all the other boys.And that’s really what counts, right?”

“Claire, be serious,” my father growled.“We arenottalking about the color of his hair!”

“No, but what wearetalking about is every bit as much a part of him as his hair color or his eye color or anything else he was born with,” my mother said firmly.“Our son is perfect and beautifuljust the way he is.And I’ll bedamnedif I’ll let you send him to one of those horrible magical orientation-conversion camps!”

“If you’d just see reason!”my father exclaimed.“Think of what kind of life he’s going to have!You know how people in the magical community feel about…about kids with the wrong orientation.”

“It’s therightorientation for him,” my mother said.“He was born this way, Harold and we don’t have the right to change him—or toshamehim,” she added fiercely.“It’s not achoice.”

“Itcouldbe, though.”My father’s voice was low and angry.“He’s so young—he wouldn’t even remember showing any tendencies the other way.He could have a normal life, Clair?—”

“You sound just like the people who came and talked my parents into sending Jamie away,” my mother said softly.“They were so persuasive and my mom and dad wanted to believe them so much—they wanted a ‘normal’ son so much…”

“And theyhadone,” my father interjected.“Jamie was fine.”

“Until he turned eighteen and the magic they used to change him went bad,” my mother said.“You don’t understand, Harold—ittore him up inside.When his true nature leaked out from under that magical shell they put over it—like they were trying to hide some kind of toxic waste,” she added bitterly.“That was when the schizophrenia started—when he started feeling like two people in one body.When he started going crazy…”

“You don’t know that the conversion magic did that,” my father protested.“He might have been predisposed to that kind of condition.”

“That only holds up if it never happened to anyone else,” my mother said flatly.“And it does—to five percent of the kids they see there.I willnotrisk our son’s life like that.And you should be ashamed for wanting to risk it.Avery ispreciousand perfect just like he is and you’re not sending him to that horrible place.And that’sfinal.”

“And that was the last of that,” I said, sitting back a little in the ratty old couch.“I mean, if they had the argument again, I never heard it but my mom definitely won because here I am, in all my natural splendor.”I spread my hands, giving them a little smirk.

All three girls’ eyes had gotten wide as they looked at each other and then back at me.

“Oh my God, Avery!”Megan breathed.“Your dad wanted to send you to a magical gay-away camp?”

I nodded.

“Yup, he did.”

“So he was willing to risk you killing yourself just to make you straight?”Kaitlyn’s eyes were suddenly filled with tears.“Oh, Avery, how horrible!”

“Thank God your mom didn’t let him do it!”Emma exclaimed.

“My mother has always been my biggest advocate,” I said, smiling fondly.“She gets me.Ifshehad the power to help me break the curse on Saint, you’d better believe she’d do it in a heartbeat.Unfortunately, she’s a Null.”I sighed.

“And you’re sure there’s no one else to ask besides your father?”Megan asked, frowning.

I shook my head.