I spent the next three hours erasing any evidence that I had visitors that day, starting dinner, and getting caught up on my homework. Halfway through my Calculus homework, it struck me-
Ben was back. And he wanted me back.
Well, sort of. A little bit. But wasn't a little bit better than nothing? My heart said yes, but my head disagreed. This was the guy who had left me bleeding on my doorstep, my heart ripped from its cavity (figuratively). But he was also the one who had changed my life forever. Could I forget our past for the sake of the greater good? Of finally getting rid of that witch Marissa and helping the people of Morphentine?
This was all giving me a headache.
My head and heart argued until my parents came home around 5 o'clock. They waltzed in with their heavy briefcases and mournful sighs and sat down at the kitchen table, comparing how stressful their days were. I didn't say anything until my mother asked,
"Are you feeling any better?"
I froze in place, a glass of water in my hand, halfway extended towards her place at the table. My thoughts automatically went to my situation with Ben, the battle between my head and heart, everything that had happened that day. But then I remembered that I was supposed to be sick.
"Oh. Yeah, loads. I can probably go to school tomorrow."
"Good, good," my father commented vaguely, focused on a stack of paper in his hands. I slowly thawed out and went to grab another glass. My heart was still throbbing from the sudden onslaught of adrenaline.
There was no way I could do this. Even for Ben. I almost had a heart attack just thinking they knew my secret. They would never understand what I had been asked to do, why I had to go, and I physically would not be able to take it. They would think I was crazy and have me committed.
That was it. My resolve. I vowed to call Ben that night and tell him there was no way.