"How did your classes go?" Robbie said suddenly. His back was to me as he got the coffeemaker going, and I flushed. Why was that always the second thing out of their mouth, right after how tall you've gotten? "You graduated, right?" he added, turning.
"Duh." I scuffed my feet and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I'd graduated, but admitting I'd flunked every ley line class I had taken wasn't anything I wanted to do. "Got a job yet?"
My eyes flicked to the application. "I'm working on it." Living at home while going to college hadn't been my idea but until I could afford rent, I was kind of stuck here, two-year degree or not.
Smiling with an irritating understanding, Robbie slid into the chair across from me, his long legs reaching the other side and his thin hands splayed out. "Where's The Bat? I didn't see it in the drive."
Oh… crap. Scrambling up, I headed for the coffeemaker. "Wow, that smells good," I said, fumbling for two mugs. "What is that, espresso?" Like I knew? But I had to say something.
Robbie knew me better than I knew myself, having practically raised me. It had been hard to find a babysitter willing to take care of an infant prone to frequently collapsing and needing shots to get her lungs moving again. I could feel his eyes on me, and I turned, arms over my chest as I leaned back against the counter.
"Rachel…" he said, then his face went panicked. "You got your license, didn't you? Oh my God. You wrecked it. You wrecked my car!"
"I didn't wreck it," I said defensively, playing with the tips of my hair. "And it was my car. You gave it to me."
"Was?" he yelped, jerking straight. "Rache, what did you do?"
"I sold it," I admitted, flushing.
"You what!"
"I sold it." Turning my back on him, I carefully pulled the carafe off the hot plate and poured out two cups. Sure, it smelled great, but I bet it tasted as bad as the stuff Mom bought.
"Rachel, it was a classic!"
"Which is why I got enough from it to get my black belt," I said, and he slumped back, exasperated.
"Look," I said, setting a cup beside him and sitting down. "I couldn't drive it, and Mom can't keep a regular job long enough to get a month's worth of pay. It was just taking up room."
"I can't believe you sold my car." He was staring at me, long face aghast. "For what? To be able to dance like Jackie Chan?"
My lips pressed together. "I was mad at you, okay?" I exclaimed, and his eyes widened. "You walked out of here after Dad's funeral and didn't come back. I was left trying to keep Mom together. And then everyone at school found out and started pushing me around. I like feeling strong, okay? A car I couldn't drive wasn't doing it, but the gym was. I needed the money to get my belt, so I sold it!"
He looked at me, guilt shining in the back of his eyes.
"You, ah, want to see what I can do?" I asked hesitantly.
Robbie's breath came in fast, and he shook himself. "No," he said, eyes on the table. "You did the right thing. I wasn't here to protect you. It was my fault."
"Robbie…" I whined. "It's not anybody's fault. I don't want to be protected. I'm a lot stronger now. I can protect myself. Actually…" I looked at the application, my fingers cold as I reached for it. I knew he wouldn't approve, but if I could get him on my side, we might be able to convince Mom—and then I wouldn't have to wait. "Actually, I'd like to do more than that."
He said nothing as I pulled the paper out like a guilty secret and shoved it across the table. My knees went weak, and I felt the hints of lightheadedness take over. God, how could I ever hope to be a runner if I didn't have enough nerve to bring it up with my brother?
The sound of the paper rasping on the table as he picked it up seemed loud. The furnace clicked on, and the draft shifted my hair as I watched his gaze travel over the paper. Slowly his expression changed as he realized what it was. His eyes hit mine, and his jaw clenched. "No."
He went to crumple the paper, and I snatched it away. "I'm going to do this."
"The I.S?" Robbie said loudly. "Are you crazy? That's what killed Dad!"
"It is not. I was there. He said so. Where were you?"
Feeling the hit, he shifted to the back of the chair, "That's not fair."
"Neither is telling me I can't do something simply because it scares you," I accused.
His brow furrowed, and I grabbed my cup of coffee, sliding it between us. "Is this why you're so hell bent on those karate classes?" he asked bitterly.
"It's not karate," I said. "And yes, it puts me ahead of everyone else. With my two-year degree, I can be a full runner in four years. Four years, Robbie!"
"I don't believe this." Robbie crossed his arms over his chest. "Mom is actually letting you do this?"
I stayed silent, ticked.
Robbie made a derisive noise from deep in his chest. "She doesn't know," he accused, and I brought my gaze up. My vision was blurring, but by God, I wasn't going to wipe my eyes.
"Rachel," he coaxed, seeing me teetering in frustration. "Did you even read the contract? They have you forever. No way out. You're not even twenty yet, and you're throwing your life away!"
"I am not!" I shouted, my voice trembling. "What else am I good for? I'll never be as good as mom at earth magic. I've tried flipping burgers and selling shoes, and I hated it. I hate it!" I almost screamed.
Robbie stared, clearly taken aback. "Then I'll help you get a real degree. All you need is the right classes."
My jaw clenched. "I took the right classes, and I have a real degree," I said, angry. "This is what I want to do."
"Running around in the dark arresting criminals? Rachel, be honest. You will never have the stamina." And then his expression blanked. "You're doing this because of Dad."
"No," I said sullenly, but my eyes had dropped, and it was obvious that was part of it.
Robbie sighed. He leaned to take my hand across the table, and I jerked out of his reach. "Rachel," he said softly. "If Dad was here, he'd tell you the same thing. Don't do it."
"If Dad was here, he'd drive me to the IS. office himself," I said. "Dad believed in what he did with his life. He didn't let danger stop him; he just prepared for it better."
"Then why did he let himself get killed?" Robbie said, an old pain in his pinched eyes. "He'd tell you to expand on your earth witch degree and find something safe."
"Safe!" I barked, shifting back. Damn it, now I'd never convince Mom. I needed her signature on the application, or I'd have to wait until I was nineteen. That meant I'd be twenty-three before I was actually making money at it. I loved my mom, but I had to get out of this house. "If Dad was here, he'd let me," I muttered, sullen.
"You think so?" Robbie shot back.
"I know so."
It was silent apart from my foot tapping the chair leg and the ticking of the clock. I folded up the application and snapped it down between us like an accusation. Reaching for my coffee, I took a swig, trying not to grimace at the taste. I don't care how good it smelled, it tasted awful. I couldn't believe people actually enjoyed drinking this stuff.
Robbie stood, startling me as the chair scraped and bumped over the linoleum. "Where are you going?" I asked. Not home for five minutes, and we were arguing already.
"To get something," he said, and walked out. I could hear him talking under his breath, and the harsh sound of a zipper as he opened his suitcase. His bedroom door slammed shut and the familiar stomp of his feet in the hall as he came back was loud.