The Blood Catalyst

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

She swiveled her chair to face the mirror on the other side of the room—she was the epitome of a mess with her frizzy curly hair, dark circles and eyes red like she had just smoked weed.

Puffing out, she stood and stretched, her bones cracking in a way that could pass for the beat of a Grammy-winning rap album. Her shoulders slouched almost immediately. She stretched and she trudged over to the bathroom, knowing that if she wanted to make it in time to follow her dad or school, or her best friend Noah, she had to be ready on time.

She sighed as she pushed the bathroom door open, realizing she had not taken off her clothes from the previous night. Grabbing her toothbrush, she hastily washed her mouth, stripped, took a shower and walked out, a towel wrapped around her, but water still dripping from her.

Her phone beeped, and she looked over at where it lay on her bed.

My car broke down. Mind if I join you and your dad this morning?

It was Noah.

She picked up her phone, giving a positive reply then proceeded to towel dry, get dressed—picking the first thing in her wardrobe and then headed downstairs.

"You look like a mess, Zara," Santiago said from where he was laying out breakfast.

"Wow, what a confidence booster," she snorted, picking up a pancake and shoving it into her mouth. "You have barely even seen me."

"And now I am," her father replied with a wry smile, staring at her and grimacing. "Worse than what I saw from my peripheral."

"You're my biggest hater, literally," she said to him.

He gave a warm smile, sitting opposite her. "Didn't sleep?"

She looked up from her meal. "That obvious?"

"Yeah. Dark circles are really bad," he did not wait for her to say anything before continuing. "You know, as an athlete you should always rest up. Get energized. I don't want you suddenly passing out after races or anything."

"I know, Dad," she smiled tightly. "Just had this really important science project I needed to research on."

"Oh? I thought it was an English essay?"

She looked away guiltily then glanced at her phone.

"Noah wants to come with us. His car broke down."

"We'll pick him up, right?"

"Yeah."

"So we have established that you didn't stay up for research, why didn't you sleep?"

She hadn't stayed up for the type of research she lied about, but what could she say? Tell her father she was suddenly invested in the idea of supernatural beings being existent? And she had to read about them thinking his athlete was one?

Hell, she hadn't even thought it—she had seen it with her own eyes.

"Do you believe in supernatural beings?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He stood up and took his plate to the sink. "You mean like ghosts?" he questioned.

“Yeah.” She felt awkward but continued. “Like... things that aren’t human. Ghosts, maybe. Or vampires. Or shapeshifters or—”

“Zara,” he said, “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just asking.”

He rinsed his plate, then leaned back against the counter and looked at her. “Is this what kept you up last night?”

She didn’t answer.

“You mean to tell me,” he said, “you’re up researching ghosts instead of sleeping?”

“I didn’t say ghosts,” she muttered.

“Okay. So what exactly do you mean?”

She sighed. “Never mind.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, go on.”

She looked down at the pancakes. “I was thinking about Ethan.”

That caught his attention.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you think he’s... weird?”

Her dad frowned a little. “Weird how?”

“I mean, he broke an Olympic record in a school race,” she said. “Who does that?”

Santiago rubbed the back of his neck and walked back to the table. “That boy trains harder than anyone I’ve seen. He’s up by five, runs with a weighted vest, does strength drills, sprints again in the evening. You don’t do that every day and stay normal."

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Zara said. “It’s not normal.”

He laughed a little. “No, I mean he works harder than most people are willing to. That’s what makes him different.”

“He’s too fast,” she said. “Like... faster than fast.”

Her dad leaned forward. “So you think he’s what? Teen Wolf?"

She didn’t say anything.

“Zara.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t think someone like that is... regular.”

“Zara,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to sleep. You’re not thinking straight.”

"I am thinking straight."

He looked at her for a while, then shook his head. “You’ve always had a big imagination.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Ethan is just an athlete with good discipline. He’s tall, he has strong legs, his breathing technique is good, and he knows how to push past his limit. That’s what you do when you want to win.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But don’t you ever think maybe there’s something more?”

“Not really,” he said. “I think when someone’s better than us at something, we like to believe they have an advantage we don’t understand. But most of the time, it’s just hard work. Maybe some talent. That’s all.”

She didn’t reply. She picked up a napkin, wrapped two pancakes in it, and folded them up for Noah.

Her dad stood again. “I like that you ask questions. Just don’t get carried away. Focus on your own race, your coach mentioned you've been slacking and Reina beat you at practice."

Zara shrugged, grabbing her backpack.

"You're a state champion, Zara, keep that up. Reina wasn't even in the first five."

"I know," she huffed, walking out the door.

Santiago walked out a few minutes later, opened the driver’s door and got in. He started the engine, and they backed out of the driveway.

“So...” he said after a short while, turning his eyes briefly toward her. “What’s going on between you and Ethan?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, looking out the window. “Remember to stop at Noah’s house. He’s waiting.”

He nodded slowly. “Right, you guys came home together yesterday.”

She kept her eyes on the road ahead.

“He made sure you got in the house safely and left, even after I invited him to dinner,” Santiago said.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered.

They pulled up to the front of Noah’s house and waited a few seconds before he came out, jogging lightly toward the car with his bag slung over one shoulder.

“Morning, Mr. Santiago,” he said, pulling open the door and sliding into the back seat.

“Morning, Noah,” her dad said with a short smile as he turned the car back onto the road.

Zara reached into her lap and handed Noah the napkin-wrapped pancakes without saying anything.

“Oh my God,” he said, taking them from her and unwrapping the first layer quickly. “You’re a lifesaver. I didn’t even eat this morning.”

“You never do,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He was already chewing by the time she turned back around.

The rest of the ride was silent. Her dad was focused on driving, and Noah was too busy eating to say much. Zara stared out the window most of the way, thinking about Ethan, then trying not to think about him.

When they got to school, her father stopped near the main gate, letting them both down. He said he would go park farther away.

They had just stepped out when she saw a motorbike pulling into the lot near the school’s entrance.

The engine was loud enough to make a few students glance back.

Ethan got off it slowly, pulled off his helmet, and ran a hand through his hair like he had done it a thousand times before. Some girls nearby giggled. A few whispered and glanced at him again. Boys turned their heads too, eyes fixed on the bike, probably wondering what kind it was.

Even Noah stopped walking for a second.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I think I just fell in love."

"Ew. Of all people?"

"With the bike, not the dude. And why the ew when you clearly like him?"

Zara said nothing. She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

She didn’t wait for Noah to catch up.

As she walked past Ethan, she didn’t shift out of the way. Her shoulder bumped into his a little harder than necessary.

“Morning to you too,” he said, barely glancing at her.