2 News About Nash

The graveyard is eerily quiet this evening.

I'm standing across from Rose, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. She's staring at me with eyes full of pity, wanting to tell me that things will be all right but too afraid to say anything. Besides, she knows that isn't true. Things are far from all right.

"Are you feeling all right?"

My sister's voice is quiet. Hoarse. So high pitched it almost sounds like a child's.

"Yes, I am." I set the flowers down on the gravestone in front of me. "Thanks for coming here with me today."

Rose says nothing else, just turns away and fixes her eyes on the mausoleum in the distance. We sit like that for a while, me tracing my finger over the gravestone, her not daring to look me in the eyes. Then, a little boy in a cape and sorcerer's hat waddles over to us on his short legs.

"Are you that angry magician from the news?" he asks, wide - eyed.

Rose nods, but slowly. Hesitantly. She and I both know he didn't come over here because

he's a fan of her work.

"Nash Landon is my favorite. Why would you want to punch him? You should respect your boss more."

There it is.

Rose leans down so she's at the boy's eye level. "Nash and I had a fight," she tells him, "and it got out of hand. You're right. I shouldn't have attacked him like that."

"But once they make up, they'll be friends again," I interject.

That isn't exactly true. The bad blood between Nash and Rose and I still runs deep. Maybe it will never go away. But I see no point in getting this child involved in our personal drama.

"There you are!" Another boy, this one probably a year or two older than the first, comes rushing over. "You can't just wander off like that. Mom and Dad are really upset with you for missing half the funeral, you know. Now let's get you back - " He sees Rose's face and stops mid-sentence, jaw going slack.

"Well, hi there." Rose chuckles. "It's nice to meet you too."

"Ditto. My name's Henley, and you already know Rose." I extend my hand, but he doesn't

take it.

"Nobody likes you, you know," says the older brother. "We all think you're a whiny snob

who just wants money and attention."

The little boy stares at his brother with a shocked expression on his face. "That's not a very nice thing to say, especially since this is a sad day for them."

"It's true, though, isn't it? And you," he adds, turning to me, "are just as bad as she is. Aren't you their sibling? You need to do a better job of keeping her in check. You're in a position to tell them not to go after people like Nash Landon, especially since she's his assistant."

"I went after him," Rose says, "because Nash Landon is a massive piece of - " She catches herself before I can finish that sentence. "Forget it. Just leave them alone."

"We're done here," says the older brother. "Come on. Mom and Dad are waiting for us back at the table."

With that, he grabs the smaller child's hand and drags him away, back into the crowd and towards their parents. Realizing that they're gone now, I unclench my fists and get to my feet.

"Just ignore them, Henley." Rose puts her hand in mine. "It wasn't fair of that kid to attack you like that. He should have known that you had nothing to do with what happened last night."

But I'm not listening. My coat is already flung over my shoulders. My shaking hands are

clutching my bag. "I appreciate you being here today, but I think I should leave now. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

A worried look spreads across my sister's face. "Hold on. Henley, you don't have to - " But I've already left.

I am barely conscious of my surroundings as I walk. The people, the gravestones, the smells and noises and worlds going on around me all pass by in a blur. The only thing my aching mind seems to register is the heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Why did this have to happen today, of all days?" I mutter to myself, suddenly realizing that I'm standing at the exit of the cemetery. I take a deep breath of the tobacco - filled Ontario air, the feeling of unrest still at home in my stomach as I make my way to the curb to hail a taxi. This day would be hard enough for me without Nash and Rose fighting.

"Henley, wait!"

Rose's high heels clack against the pavement as she rushes toward me, waving her arms in

the air to get my attention. "My car's parked just across the street. Please, let me drive you home."

The door slams shut behind me as I climb into the passenger seat. My seatbelt clicks into place with a sharp, almost metallic sound. The engine roars to life when Rose turns the key. Everything is too loud, too aggressive. I'm too on edge today.

"Why don't I turn on the radio for you?" Rose offers. "That should take your mind off of things." She turns a dial on the dashboard, and a news station comes on.

"It's a rivalry for the history books," says the reporter, "This morning, world renowned illusionist Nash Landon was punched in the face by his assistant, twenty - year - old Rose Hayden. The reason for her violent behavior is unclear. Sources say the two grew up in the same neighborhood, but didn't become especially close until recently. Their relationship was put to the test this morning, on the fifth anniversary of Hayden's father's death. During a dress rehearsal for their upcoming show, Nash is reported to have said something to Rose that prompted her to give him a black eye. Footage of the moment was caught on tape by a security camera, and uploaded to social media by an unknown - "

"Yeah, no." Rose reaches across the dashboard to change the channel.

"Today was a bad day for magician Nash Landon," the new reporter begins. "This morning, while rehearsing for his much anticipated show in Toronto, he was punched in the face by assistant Rose Hayden. Mere hours after it happened, the scandal is now trending on five different social media sites. Nash and Rose have yet to say anything to the public about what happened. Many speculate that what Nash said had something to do with Hayden's father, as today is the anniversary of his death. However, her critics are accusing Ms. Hayden of overreacting to what they believe was nothing more than a - "

Rose changes the channel again, to a celebrity gossip channel this time.

"This just in. Rose Hayden, the magician's assistant who punched illusionist Nash Landon in the face this morning, was spotted at a graveyard in her hometown of Brampton, Ontario. With her was her older sibling, Henley. The two were most likely there to pay respects to - "

This time, the radio gets turned off.

"So much for a distraction," Rose says, not taking her wide green eyes off the road. I'm only half listening. My mind is going faster than her car.

"Rose, I know you hate the guy, but you really shouldn't have done that. Nash has powerful connections. God knows what he's going to do to you now. You may never work again." I slump down in my seat. "What did Nash say to you, anyway? I'm assuming he gave you a good reason to sock him in the face."

"I'd rather not repeat it." Rose pulls onto a street I recognize as my own. "It's too personal. All I can say is, Nash has known both of us since we were little. He knows how to make us tick. That's what happened this morning. He crossed a line, and now he has a black eye to show for it. I should probably regret what I did. I'm going to have to apologize to Nash if I want to keep my job. But for the record, I'm not actually sorry. That asshole had it coming. He can't expect me to be polite and cordial to him if he treats me like dirt."

"Thanks for clearing that up," I say as I pull up to my apartment building. She's about to put the car in park when her phone starts going off, startling us both.

I'm staring at her face with curious eyes. "Are you going to answer it?"

"That's been happening all day. But I don't want to talk to anyone right now. It'd be better if I didn't answer."

I let Rose walk with me out of the car, up two flights of stairs, to the old wooden door at the end of the hallway. I give the door one soft knock, and it creaks open.

Jason and Matthew answer the door together. Matthew is holding a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a DVD in the other. Jason has what looks like a mountain of board games tucked under his arms, and passes a handful on to Rose. She takes them cautiously, not sure what could possibly be going on but eager to find out.

"What's all this? What are you guys up to?"

"We thought a game and movie night might make you feel better," Matthew explains. "It hasn't been your day, so we wanted to cheer you up. How does that sound?"

The night is still young, and I don't want to let anyone down, and I know my roommates must have put a lot of effort into planning this evening. But I don't know how much longer I can keep my eyes open. I want nothing more than to climb into my bed and fall asleep, and wake up in the morning to the promise of a better day; so I twist my oncoming yawn into a smile and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't tonight. Go ahead and have fun without me, though."

"Oh. All right." Jason turns to my sister. "We know you live far away, so you're welcome to spend the night." Matthew nods in agreement.

"That's kind of you to offer. Thank you." Rose kicks off her heels and follows me inside.

That awful sinking feeling I felt outside the restaurant has faded. I'm home now. There is

no one here who will judge or scorn me. In this place, around the people I share it with, I am safe. There is no Nash Landon here. There are no rude little boys, no people refusing to glance my way or staring at me with their disapproving eyes.

Matthew slides the DVD into the old T.V. in the living room. Jason helps Rose pull the blowup mattress out of the closet, stealing a glance at me as I make my way past them. "Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Matthew calls out. "It's not too late to change your mind, you know." But I shake my head no and continue on my path down the corridor to my bedroom.

My eyes begin to flutter as soon as I lay a finger on the door handle. The instant my weary head hits the pillow, my mind drifts into the gentle darkness of a dreamless sleep. I stay like that for a while, still and peaceful, my mind a blank slate. But it doesn't last.

When I wake up, the sky is still dark, but there are no noises coming from the living room. Have the others gone to bed already? A quick glance at the alarm clock on my dresser tells me it's a quarter past midnight. Jason and Matthew never go to bed this early on weekends, but I don't hear any noises coming from the living room. Maybe they put Rose to bed and went out afterwards. Maybe they were especially tired tonight, and wound up falling asleep hours before their normal bedtimes. But I don't have time to wonder about them before something hits my window with a loud THUD.

Feelings of exhaustion long forgotten, I push the covers aside and rush over to see what just happened. My window isn't broken, but in the alley below stands a tall silhouette. I can't see his face, but in his hands are what look like small pebbles.

"Hello?" I call out into the night. "I know you're there. What do you want?"

"It's me. I know you're in there. Can you come down? We need to talk."

A shiver runs its way up and down my spine. My heart is pounding against my ribcage at superhuman speeds. With trembling hands, I lock the window and draw the curtains in tight, because I know that voice.

It belongs to Nash Landon.