Young Writers Society

"Monica," Finnley said after several minutes had passed, "look. I know there's something you're hiding; even in talking about seemingly unrelated things we're dancing around something here, and it needs to stop."

Monica looked down at her lap, where her hands were neatly folded. "I know. I thought I could pretend, but I can't. If I told you, you'd see me differently, you wouldn't understand..." Here she trailed off, as if there were even reasons for hiding that she wouldn't tell him.

"I think we should go back and talk with Mr. Vaughn," Finnley said. He was worried about Monica, and he wanted to know what she was hiding, but at the same time he didn't want her to run away again. Her eyes were already darting from side to side, and Finnley got the distinct impression that she was looking for an escape.

Finnley laid a hand on top of hers, and that seemed to pull her back to the moment. Monica sighed a bit, as if she had resigned herself to something. "Okay. I'll go with you, but tomorrow. I'll meet you after school. I just- I need a little more time, okay? I want to be free for just a little longer. I want to stay normal."

Finnley didn't ask her to clarify, nor did he point out that she seemed far from normal to him. He just said "okay", and after a few more minutes in silence, they parted ways. Finnley didn't know what to think, but while he was mulling over Monica's complicated mystery, he no longer felt afraid of telling his mother about Mr. Vaughn. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She might forbid him from going to back, a prospect which made his pulse quicken, but it would be good tell someone else.

At that very moment, Finnley's phone buzzed. It was a text from his mom, wondering where he was. The time was later than he expected, and he anxiously replied, "Stopped at a park to enjoy the fall day and found my friend Monica. We talked for a bit and I lost track of time. Heading home now." Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he took longer, quick strides back towards his house. This late in the year, it began to get dark early, and the air was turning cold.

When Finnley came in the front door, he saw his mom in the kitchen making dinner. Though she only smiled and waved with a green oven mitt when she saw him, he thought he saw her shoulders relax with relief. Finnley set down his bag and went over to feed Rory. He found the rabbit already chewing on a carrot, and he knew that his mother had slipped him some extra food again. Finnley smiled and shook his head.

"How was your day?" Mrs. Bale asked, peering around the corner to look at him. Finished with the food, Finnley straightened up and faced his mother.

"Actually, more than you would expect," he said with a short little laugh. His mom raised an eyebrow and he continued to tell her about Mr. Vaughn and magic, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Mrs. Bale kept on making dinner with a sort of decided firmness, as if she would continue on with cooking even if the rest of the world went to pieces. Finnley imagined she would.

"You know I don't like this," she began, holding up a hand to silence Finnley's unformed protest, "and you shouldn't go rushing into it. But it's different from these... monsters. Do you think it could maybe help you defend yourself against them?"

Finnley considered this. "I'd imagine so," he said after a moment. "I'll have to ask Mr. Vaughn."

"Hm," his mom replied dubiously, hand on one hip and fingers tapping. It clearly wasn't good enough for her. "I'd very much like to talk to him about this. Know what the dangers are. I don't want you wrapped up in this even more than you already are. But... you did tell me about it. I'd hate to punish you for that. And I can see you're genuinely interested. You go to work every day this week like normal, but give me a good report on it, you hear? I want details, and then we can make a good decision together."

"Good idea," Finnley said, readily agreeing. This was an offer he wasn't going to get twice. He sat down at the table and ate dinner with his mom. The two of them hadn't been this honest with each other about their days in who knew how long, and it felt better than he could have imagined. Still, when he went upstairs to do his homework, Finnley felt as if he was missing something. He decided to call up Mia and see how she was faring.

The phone rang four times before Mia picked up. "Hellooooo Finnley," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Mia?" Finnley said tentatively, a little concerned for his friend. "Are you all good?"

"Feeling quite fine!" she said, which didn't make Finnley feel much better. "We're trying to have a girls' night here, so was that all you wanted to say?"

Finnley was a bit taken back. "Excuse me?" A girls' night? What did that even mean?

"Monica and I are doing important things. Board games. Movies. So, if you just wanted to hear my most beautiful voice, then you can stop now," Mia proclaimed, and there was a burst of giggles, presumably from Monica.

"Oh. Um, bye," Finnley said, and quickly hung up. Monica and Mia. He hadn't realized that they'd really hit it off so much. Well. He was glad of it, anyhow. Mia needed something to keep her mind off her mother, and maybe this was what Monica had meant by being normal.

As Finnley finished up his homework, he thought about himself and Mia. For a while now, he'd though of them as a duo. Just recently, he'd even thought of them as a monster-fighting duo, although that did make him worry there were more to come. Was their duo becoming a trio now? It seemed kind of fitting. Three had always been a good number- three musketeers, three legs to make a table stand- who knew what good things were in store for the three of them?