Sentilia

“Kleio? Why is the pasta sticking to the bottom?” I frowned, slightly panicked that my meal would be inedible, and turned to look at him. His booming laugh filled the room. “What’s so funny?” I added, my frown getting deeper.

“She can’t even cook pasta!” He spoke between two playful hits on the counter.

I ignored him.

He finally stopped mocking me after seeing that my frown wouldn’t fade. He came around to put his hand on mine, dipped the large wooden spoon in the cauldron and stirred, unsticking the clumpy pasta from the bottom.

“What did I do wrong?” I asked, perplexed.

“Well, for one, you need to stir the water and the pasta once in a while, sweetie.”

“Oh...you know you could have just said so,” I whispered under my breath. How could I have known? I’ve never cooked anything in my life.

So this was a first. I seemed to be enjoying the essence of it, but I sucked at it, for now.

The only reason I was doing this, actually, was to impress William and his sister. They were coming over for dinner, after they had a chance to catch up and talk about everything that had separated them.

It was the first time that I would meet her in real life.

Five days had passed since Kleio had saved us with the shield, and that I had made the soldiers leave the island. We still hadn’t talked about my abilities, and about everything that had gone down, and it seemed the more we put it off, the more afraid I was to talk about it.

I had talked to my mom the day after the attack. I told her a fraction of what had happened, because she’d asked me not to give her any details. She had sounded strange on the phone, but she told me that we would see each other soon, and that we could talk about it more when we saw each other in person. Kleio had told me not to insist, and since I trusted him—at this point more than my own mother—I did what he asked. I knew this had something to do with the fact that my mom was now joining the Advisors, and that we’d have a lot to discuss the next time I saw her. When we had spoken, she said that all she wanted to know was that I was alright, that I was safe. Since she had asked me to spare the details, I had skipped the part where I got speared in the arm, and shot in the leg.

Things were working out fine. I was staying at Hayden and Maia’s place, whom I got to know better, and learned to really appreciate. They were family, after all, but they were without a doubt the sweetest two girls I had ever met. They made me feel welcomed, and it was like I’d known them my whole life. It felt good to be around people so alive and so interesting. Life here was anything but boring.

On the third day after the attack, William had surprised me by compiling a playlist with all of his favorite songs on it—old songs with lyrics; it was his way of saying sorry and thank you at the same time. He was also trying to prove that he too had some things in common with the people on the island.

Kleio had also taken the time to teach me how to drive. I’d been so excited to finally open the windows, feel the wind blowing in my hair at 100 mph, and feel the power of control over that huge machine; it had been an incredible sensation that I had dreamt about for a while. I had surprisingly not felt an inch of the queasy feelings I had when I was in the passenger seat. At night, I dreamt normal dreams in which I could hear the loud purring sound of an engine that made my heart accelerate, and I could see miles of open road in front of me.

I remembered one afternoon when I’d rushed over to K’s to ask him if I could drive his car again. I’d met him halfway down his street; he was walking on the side of the road. What was he doing there?

“Kleio?” I’d stopped the speeder on the side of the road.

“Hey!” I jumped out of the speeder, and then focused on his thoughts. He was just out for a walk to clear his head.

“Oh!” I said, out loud.

“Aren’t you...?” He replied.

“No, he’s with his sister.” This mind reading thing was becoming easier; I found it useful and amusing. And it shortened conversations considerably. Although, Kleio was the only one that let me into his head so easily now; most people kept their guards up most of the time.

“You know, we don’t talk like this normally, Max.” He chuckled, grabbing my hand as he walked by me: “Walk with me.”

Kleio was suddenly waving his hand in front of my face: “Hello? Max? Are you still in there?”

“Oh!” I had been so lost in thought that I forgot where I was for a second. “The pasta!”

He rolled his eyes; I couldn’t help myself from laughing: “Max, the pasta is cooked and drained.”

“Um...Okay, so, now I have to stir the sauce in...right?”

“Right. Go ahead.” His voice was confident, but he was eyeing me cautiously. I executed the rest of my tasks with great concentration—adding the sauce, plating the pasta, adding parmesan—and the result was successful, according to K.

I took off that pink ruffled apron Kleio had made me wear, and sat myself on the edge of the table. Kleio started cleaning up my mess. The computer announced William and his sister.

I was up in an instant, and rushed to the door.

Kleio caught my arm and used the momentum to swing me around; I bumped into his chest, and looked up.

“You have sauce on your cheek,” he said, holding back a laugh. He was holding my waist close to him with one hand, and took his other to wipe my cheek.

He had a crooked smile, and my heart slightly fluttered when he took a beat to look at my face. I could feel the love he felt; he never tried to hide it anymore.

I heard the front door shut then, and Kleio let go of me.

I turned around to find William standing in the kitchen with a bright white smile, dressed up in a suit and tie that somehow went perfectly with his tousled hair, and a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand. I couldn’t help it, he took my breath away.