Chapter 8

“Dad, I’m home” I say as I enter the porch.

“Hey, a friend of yours was here earlier”.

“A friend?”

My head isn’t able to wrap around who it could’ve been.

“Yeah, he was a tall guy with brown hair. Is there something you have to tell me?” Dad says giving a cheeky smile.

“Eww dad, no. He’s an acquaintance”. Tristan is neither a friend nor an acquaintance, I’ve got no idea what he is, “Did he say anything?”

Dad starts laughing, “Okay okay, he asked if you’re home and said to just give him a call”.

I nod my head and walk into the living room, I settle into the sofa leaning my head back, wondering what to do. It’s been an hour since the news of my family was broken to me, but it still doesn’t make any sense to me. I take out my phone to give Tristan a call but remember I haven’t saved it so now I’m going to have to search for it.

Dad walks in and sits on the sofa opposite me, “are you okay?”

I give a weak smile “Yeah, I’m fine”.

“Oh, come on, I’m not that old that you start hiding stuff from me”.

“Dad what were we before Catholicism?” The question leaves my mouth before I’ve even had time to process.

Dad raises his eyebrows, “Well, there’s not much, we’re a Greek descent so we were probably pagans”.

“So, we worshipped Zeus and the other gods”.

“Yes, I suppose but it doesn’t matter, it’s the past” Dad says leaning back.

“But it’s our history. What were our ancestors like?”

“There’s not much that I know but I know your grandma has some past letters and journals” Dad says as he starts walking towards the door, “I’m going to check on the fish. There’s a story we used to get told as children, as a bedtime story, that one of our ancestors got chosen and which is why we’re all unique”.

Unique?

I follow dad into the kitchen, “What do you mean?”

“Well, it was only a story so it was fake, but it meant that we’d know when to choose right from wrong easily, we’re intuitive, we can understand emotions, all along that line. It’s probably not true, look at my marriage” dad smiles and shakes his dad.

“Hey, just because we have those traits doesn’t mean others can feel our emotions, right?” I reach out my hand to hold his.

“I suppose”.

“Dad, call me when dinner is ready. I’m going to call the acquaintance”.

I sprint upstairs in my mission to find Tristan’s number. It’s doesn’t take long since I remember which paper it was written down on.

“Hello” I squeak into the phone.

“Finally, you called”.

“Why’d you come to my place? Actually, how do you know where I live?” I try to control my voice from getting too high as I practically scream into the phone.

“Wow, calm down and are those the questions you want to waste your time on. I came to ask what you’d decided”.

“About?”

“About joining them, about being a kentro”.

“No, I’m confused what to believe. They mentioned it being your fault”.

Tristan laughs into the phone, “the heroes thinking they’re always right, how ironic”.

“Well, is it?” I run my hand through my hair.

“No, I was going to tell you my side which is why I came but you’d already gone to meet them”.

“You can tell me now; I haven’t made up my mind yet”.

“Let’s meet up”.

Did he honestly think I was dumb to fall for this again?

“No, it’s a waste of my time”, the recollection of last time came to my head “you changed the weather last time, didn’t you?”

“Yes”.

“Did it hurt getting punched?”

Tristan laughs once again, “you’re quite straightforward but no it didn’t”.

I hear dad yell to come eat and to bring grandma.

“I’ve got to go but I’ll let you know if I want to meet, bye” I close the phone without waiting for his reply and get up to leave.

He’s easier for me to talk to rather than the people I should be comfortable in talking to, he’s different. Maybe I can ask him about why Randall used to stand outside my place.

This is not going to end well.