Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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 you listen to 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 are not talking about the color of his hair!”
“No, but what we are talking 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 beautiful just the way he is. And I’ll be damned if 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 the right orientation for him,” my mother said. “He was born this way, Harold and we don’t have the right to change him—or to shame him,” she added fiercely. “It’s not a choice.”
“It could be, 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 they had one,” 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—it tore 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 will not risk our son’s life like that. And you should be ashamed for wanting to risk it. Avery is precious and perfect just like he is and you’re not sending him to that horrible place. And that’s final.”
“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. If she had 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.
“He’s pretty much the most powerful Warlock I know. If anyone can break the curse on Saint, it will be him. I’m just hoping he’ll be willing to help once I explain that breaking the curse might…” I coughed. “Might turn him and his Drake straight.”
“That’s so awful, though,” Emma objected. “If you break the curse, you’ll lose him!”
“Pretty sure I will,” I said. I was trying to sound nonchalant but maybe not doing such a good job of it, considering the melting looks of sympathy my three Coven mates were giving me.
“Avery, I think you need a hug,” Kaitlyn said softly.