Struggling with my emotions, I start up the steps. Maybe Dad kept quiet. It’s not like he enjoys rifling around in my head. Who would? It’s fairly cluttered up there. He’s respectful about it. If I don’t want to talk through things, he doesn’t mention them. If I didn’t already know he could pick through my brain, I wouldn’t guess he could.

Anxiously, I put my hand on the knob. I’m about to find out just how much information I gave away and how many people aside from Dad know my plans. Way to go, Rory. Score one for your first mature act. Trying to plug the outpouring of my mind, I push open the door.

Tension nearly shuts it back against me. Oh, they know, without a doubt. The phasers present are sitting in their usual positions in the living room, trying to maintain composure. They’re too relaxed, too controlled. Biting my lip, I survey the attendees, preparing myself for the accusations and feelings of betrayal.

Sam sits, eyes focused on the television screen. His left hand holds the remote control, which he clicks rapidly, the channels shifting from one sporting event to another. His right hand twitches under Bridget’s strong grip. Surprisingly, the sound of breaking bones doesn’t echo through the silence. He’s a trooper. Doesn’t even flinch.

Pete and Rick stand, forcing smiles onto their quivering lips. Neither speaks. Pete opens his mouth once, but nothing comes out. Rick drapes his arm around his shoulder, in a gesture of comfort. I’m pretty sure Bridget’s burning a hole through their backs, so I’m glad they’re blocking her line of sight.

I notice Tommy Stanton at the kitchen counter, helping himself to refreshments meant only for him. He’s the youngest full moon shifter in Jack’s pack and the friendliest. He’s Tessa’s little brother, sort of making him my brother too. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest to surround himself with stinking phasers. Our phaser mascot. He’s obviously oblivious to what just transpired moments before my arrival. Good. I need some back up. While blissful ignorance isn’t much help, it’ll do for now. As I turn to move in his direction, eight eyes beat into my back. Mouths are still opting out of breaking the awkward silence. They don’t have to say anything. I can pretty easily pick up it won’t be an easy night, but I did come, right? That has to count for something.

Grace disrupts the crickets first, skipping in from the back door. “Rory…Aurora, such a pleasure to see you,” she starts. Her voice is strained, like something’s squeezing her windpipe. I cautiously smile when she leans forward to kiss me once on each cheek. There’s no gentle hug. No excited commentary about her approval of my attire. The greeting is definitely lacking Grace.

For the first time, I look around the room, noticing how much effort she put into subtly decorating for the night. Several vases are filled with flowers in varying shades of blue. Hyacinths, Hydrangea, and Delphiniums perfume the vicinity. Veronica laces all free surfaces. From behind her back, Grace pulls out a bracelet meant for me, made from Forget-Me-Nots. My smile wavers as she slips it over my wrist.

A warm sensation floods my body when Jarek touches my cheek. I’m glad he intervened before the pooling tears spilled over. He works his way around the room, a simple touch providing a warm and welcome shift in the tense atmosphere. While it’s not a permanent solution, it’s nice to be given the chance to explain my side of things, to defend myself. I don’t expect anyone to turn on Dad. I just want to be heard through a voice I rarely use. If that doesn’t work, I’ll project my perspective. Honestly, I’d prefer acceptance without cheating my way to the ultimate goal. My projections are far too persuasive.

They’ve all played roles in my life. Jarek my counselor, Grace my inspiration, Bridget my confidence, Sam my bodyguard, and Rick and Pete my educators. Each member of my phaser family has had a specific place in helping me reach adulthood. The logical course forward is for me to find my place. I can’t do that when I’m so swept up in everything they already are to me. I can’t find my way unless I stop seeking direction from the people around me. I can’t tag along anymore. I’m not content with only that. The future holds too many opportunities to let them slide by because I’m too scared to seek them out.

When I feel myself getting worked up again, nerves shooting through the calm, another flood of warmth washes through me. Jarek stands close by in case I need him again. Smart. I undoubtedly will.

When he walks in, the idle chatter stops. She walks beside him, anger flickering in her eyes. Swallowing hard, I force a smile. They’re a menacing pair, beautiful beyond belief. Mom wears her emotion like a badge, lip lifting to sneer at me. Dad’s more cryptic. I can’t tell if he’s upset or counting down to an emotional apocalypse. Their steps come in slow motion. I contemplate making a run for it.

Jarek takes my hand in his. Grace mimics his movement on my left side. I wonder, with them holding my weight, how I managed to stand on my own two feet before that. Are they protecting me or providing me moral support? Do they genuinely think I’ll be physically attacked?

Cringing, I clock the pained look in Dad’s eyes. Sorry, that was a low blow. They’d never hurt me, whether I deserve it or not. If I’m proving my readiness to fly solo, standing here cowering isn’t the way to do it. Flanked by two people I love gives me strength enough to solidify my wobbly knees. Taking a step forward, the hands on either side of mine release their steadying grip, and I meet my parents as an equal. Whatever they say, I’m ready for the rebuttal. However they want to argue their case, I’ll diplomatically counter with mine. Regardless of any unforeseen emotion, I’ll be compassionate yet firm. They won’t make me stay. I know that. I see it in Mom’s instantaneous mood swing, the way her lips move from a sneer to a quiver as my parents stop to stand in front of me. The three of us realize simultaneously it isn’t their allowance I’m looking for. It’s their blessing.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Aurora,” Dad murmurs in a voice smooth as silk.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Although in literal terms it’s only been ten years, this was one of my attendance conditions. Acknowledgement of human adulthood. His voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t show any sign of hidden emotion. Maybe he’s given up quicker than I anticipated. Maybe this evening can be one of celebration after all. A pleasant goodbye without a theatrical performance. He flinches. Nope. Not getting off that easy. “Thank you, Father,” I reply curtly. “It feels like it took me forever to get here.”

“Not nearly long enough,” Mom remarks. “I hope you enjoyed your day.” She frowns. “Alone.”

She’s assuming the alone time resulted in this decision to flee the nest. Wrong. This isn’t a split second decision. It’s been coming for a while. That’s basically the apex of this whole problem. I need room to spread my wings. This is far too important. Once I’ve chosen, I can’t change my mind. Human or phaser. One or the other for the rest of my life. “It allowed for necessary reflection,” I return cautiously.

“Oh?” She feigns surprise. “Please tell me, if you don’t mind, what decisions you’ve made in your newfound adulthood?”

Dad shifts a bit, uncomfortable over the way the conversation is going full speed ahead. He’d have been fine with waiting for the discussion. His clenched jaw is on track to break his teeth into a million tiny pieces.

“You know already,” I mutter. “He didn’t let me explain myself before telling you.”

Dad remains silent. In fact, everyone’s grown silent. Even Tommy’s stopped chewing, standing in the kitchen with his mouth partly open. Aware of the audience, Dad smiles tightly, trying to minimize the spectacle I’m about to make of myself. A swarm of voices are buzzing through his hive, but he hides it admittedly well.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation to a more private venue,” he suggests, hand gesturing toward the front door.

“Why?” I spit defiantly, my voice rising a decibel level. “This conversation affects everyone here. You’ll just go off and tell them everything that happens anyway. They may as well get fresh news!”

I feel the warmth again, a surge more forceful than the previous two times Jarek initiated the flow through me. I shake his hand off my shoulder. He nods once, and the pull lifts, but I know he won’t be far in case things get out of hand, as they have a tendency to do with me. Folding my arms across my chest, I prepare for the onslaught of arguments. Possibly bribes or threats. The pleading will come last. While it’ll be the most difficult to pass, it’s the final stage before acceptance.

When Mom opens her mouth to speak again, Dad interrupts by pulling her hand to his lips. She can’t maintain focus when he touches her. Their love is an endless love, stronger than any desire, any craving that exists. No need is greater than being together. They’ll still have each other, even if I slip from the triangle for a spell. Maybe it won’t take an argument. Maybe a decision has already been made, and they were preparing for acceptance all along, knowing this moment was inevitable. It isn’t a permanent goodbye. It’s only for a short time. They have forever. We have the rest of my life. I was foolish to worry over telling them. It’s going to be fine. Sighing in relief, I feel the knots slowly work their way out of my stomach.

“You misunderstand,” Dad interjects. “You won’t have our blessing.”

My head tilts to the side. The fear shifting to relief shifts to confusion. How can I not have their blessing? What more is there to argue? He didn’t say don’t. He said won’t, meaning never. Can he not see my side? Does he not know how incredibly important this is? Not just for me. For everyone.

“You’re not ready,” he argues.

He’s speaking and not listening. What good does it do to invade my head if he isn’t actually hearing what I’m saying? Acknowledging what I’m feeling?

“I was born ready,” I bark at him.

While I openly admit body and mind have some meshing to do, that’s the point of this detachment. I need to remove myself from my surroundings so I can be whole. I can’t spend any more of my life fighting between the human and phaser side. It’s tearing me apart at the seams. I have to figure out who I want to be, what I want to be. Is it really so hard to accept?

I feel my temperature rise another degree, prepping to raise my voice again when he calmly repeats, “You will not have our blessing.”

I growl. Tommy whimpers from the kitchen, rushing toward the back door. “That’s right!” I roar after him. “Go run to your Jack. You’ll be disappointed to find out he gives zero shits whether I stay or go!”

“Aurora Mack Willows!” Mom snaps in a completely parental tone. Yeah, maybe I’m not altogether keen on going with a change from Rory to Aurora. That made my ears ring.

“You can’t make me stay here.”

Keeping a firm grip on Mom’s hand, Dad stands his ground, countering coolly, “No one’s making you stay, Aurora. You’re an adult now. The choice is yours.”

He pulled this same garbage on Mom when she wanted him to fuse with her. He said she was too young. He wanted her to experience more of her human life first. He claimed waiting was a compromise, but it wasn’t. It was his way of controlling everything around him. Feeling my body begin to shake lightly, he’s hitting all the right nerves. I need to show him why I have to do this. I need to show him why I can’t continue to exist without this chance. I won’t go without their blessing. He knows that and is using it against me. When Jarek messes with my emotions, he isn’t cagey about it. It’s a frontal assault. Appreciated. Dad? He likes to sneak up from behind with his guilt shackles at the ready. Not appreciated.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

He flinches. Mom’s looking at him now, getting a second-hand relay. She gasps, her eyes flitting back and forth between us. I wasn’t supposed to be the one losing control. I was prepared to soothe and coddle my parents when they gave in to me, as they typically do. Threatening wasn’t on my set list, particularly since I should’ve outgrown such childish behaviour. But here we are.

“You will give me your blessing,” I hiss, “or it’ll be as if I never existed.”

Mom shudders at his side. The others begin whispering in hushed, shocked tones, contemplating my meaning. Even though I’m controlled in this moment by a pure sense of rage, I won’t hurt them more than that one sentence. My father, however, needs to hear the rest.

I’ve tried explaining why you need to let me leave, yet you refuse to listen. You’ve made your choice. Now I’ll make mine. I won’t project thoughts you already hear. What I will tell you is what can be given, can be taken away. If I can put my thoughts in your head, in their heads, I can take them out too. Don’t make me.

My father falls silent. He won’t share this one with Mom. Not here. I cut him to the bone. He needs some time to weigh out the possibilities. Time to decide if the threat is idle or not. Could I alter someone’s thought process to that degree? Take away their memories? Would I if I could? I’m not sure, and neither is he, but if there’s a fraction of a chance, it’s too great a risk.

Jarek and Grace aren’t looking at me when I stride past them toward the door. No one is. They’re all looking at Dad, and how his heart, if it could beat, would explode from his chest, impaling every phaser in the room. His mouth is slack. His mind has fallen someplace beyond death, into a thick, black pit of despair. My victory is hollow, but it’s a victory, nonetheless. They won’t have a choice now. They’ll give me their blessing. All of them. Being without me temporarily is a far lesser pain than never knowing I existed.