answer right away. A small, sardonic smile lifted up the corners of her mouth. “Because we’re the Adams.”
Aaron fell quiet. He looked down the table before turning back to his mum. “Where’s Sam and Rose?”
“Inside,” Kate replied. “They didn’t want to come out.”
The bubble of guilt rose inside Aaron again. He turned, seeking out the cottage that they had stayed in last night. He stared at it for long minutes before eventually looking away.
More people started taking their seats around the table. No one introduced themselves or even bothered to speak to the Adams, but continued their sideways glances and muttering. Aaron sat in silence next to his mum. His dad and Drake continued their quiet conversation, seemingly oblivious to the staring.
A particular group nearby caught Aaron’s eye. Six women, tall and fair, with long blue robes which trailed to the ground. But that wasn’t what grabbed Aaron’s attention. It was the way they were walking: in single file, with a hand resting on the shoulder of the person in front of them. The one at the front was staring, unblinkingly ahead of her, her pale blue eyes gazing into the far distance. When they reached the table, the six stepped out of their single file and felt their chairs with their hands before sitting down.
“Hey y’all!”
Aaron turned to see a boy, not much older than him, standing at the end of the table. On either side were two stacks of plates, almost as tall as the boy. The boy grinned and reached back to tie his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail.
“Watch yer fingers,” he warned.
He pulled back his hand before extending it out fully, as if throwing an imaginary Frisbee. The stacks of plates flew across the table. Aaron pushed himself back as the train of plates whipped by him, going down the length of the table, leaving a single plate in front of every occupied seat. The boy pulled back his other hand and repeated the action, to lay plates on the other side.
“Now it’s time for the cutlery.” The boy grinned.
Aaron pushed himself away from the table.
“Alan!” came a shout. A girl, blond with a round face and pretty blue eyes, ran up. She was holding a large tub in her hands. “What did Mother Mary say?” she berated.
“Mother Mary worries too much,” the boy replied.
“She has a point,” the girl said. “She doesn’t want you stabbing someone with a fork!”
The boy – Alan – only shrugged, but scooped out the cutlery from a large bucket and began handing them out. The girl reached into her tub and brought out a glass tumbler. She set one in front of everyone. When she reached Aaron, she looked up to meet his gaze, pausing slightly. Aaron couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked to be around his age. Her eyes were a bright blue and her hair shone golden in the light. The girl smiled and quickly deposited the glass.
“Ava!” another girl called to her from halfway across the street. “Mother Mary wants you!”
Ava gave Aaron one last smile before turning and hurrying back towards the Stove. Aaron watched her go until she disappeared behind the doors of the kitchen.
“Aaron.”
He jumped a little at the close whisper. He turned to his mum. “Yeah?”
Kate glanced once in the direction of the Stove before looking back at him. “It’s impolite to stare.”
Aaron shrugged. “Not staring,” he argued weakly.
He looked around the street to avoid his mother’s eyes. He craned his head to the side, looking at the long line of cottages, when several blue doors opened at once and out stepped groups of teenagers.
Aaron’s attention went to a particular girl in the crowd. Her thick, dark hair had streaks of electric blue through it, and reached down to the curve of her back. Her long legs looked even more so in her tight jeans. A cropped top bared her midriff, flashing smooth, creamy skin. There was something on one side of her stomach: a large, dark mark that Aaron couldn’t make out from this
Aaron fell quiet. He looked down the table before turning back to his mum. “Where’s Sam and Rose?”
“Inside,” Kate replied. “They didn’t want to come out.”
The bubble of guilt rose inside Aaron again. He turned, seeking out the cottage that they had stayed in last night. He stared at it for long minutes before eventually looking away.
More people started taking their seats around the table. No one introduced themselves or even bothered to speak to the Adams, but continued their sideways glances and muttering. Aaron sat in silence next to his mum. His dad and Drake continued their quiet conversation, seemingly oblivious to the staring.
A particular group nearby caught Aaron’s eye. Six women, tall and fair, with long blue robes which trailed to the ground. But that wasn’t what grabbed Aaron’s attention. It was the way they were walking: in single file, with a hand resting on the shoulder of the person in front of them. The one at the front was staring, unblinkingly ahead of her, her pale blue eyes gazing into the far distance. When they reached the table, the six stepped out of their single file and felt their chairs with their hands before sitting down.
“Hey y’all!”
Aaron turned to see a boy, not much older than him, standing at the end of the table. On either side were two stacks of plates, almost as tall as the boy. The boy grinned and reached back to tie his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail.
“Watch yer fingers,” he warned.
He pulled back his hand before extending it out fully, as if throwing an imaginary Frisbee. The stacks of plates flew across the table. Aaron pushed himself back as the train of plates whipped by him, going down the length of the table, leaving a single plate in front of every occupied seat. The boy pulled back his other hand and repeated the action, to lay plates on the other side.
“Now it’s time for the cutlery.” The boy grinned.
Aaron pushed himself away from the table.
“Alan!” came a shout. A girl, blond with a round face and pretty blue eyes, ran up. She was holding a large tub in her hands. “What did Mother Mary say?” she berated.
“Mother Mary worries too much,” the boy replied.
“She has a point,” the girl said. “She doesn’t want you stabbing someone with a fork!”
The boy – Alan – only shrugged, but scooped out the cutlery from a large bucket and began handing them out. The girl reached into her tub and brought out a glass tumbler. She set one in front of everyone. When she reached Aaron, she looked up to meet his gaze, pausing slightly. Aaron couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked to be around his age. Her eyes were a bright blue and her hair shone golden in the light. The girl smiled and quickly deposited the glass.
“Ava!” another girl called to her from halfway across the street. “Mother Mary wants you!”
Ava gave Aaron one last smile before turning and hurrying back towards the Stove. Aaron watched her go until she disappeared behind the doors of the kitchen.
“Aaron.”
He jumped a little at the close whisper. He turned to his mum. “Yeah?”
Kate glanced once in the direction of the Stove before looking back at him. “It’s impolite to stare.”
Aaron shrugged. “Not staring,” he argued weakly.
He looked around the street to avoid his mother’s eyes. He craned his head to the side, looking at the long line of cottages, when several blue doors opened at once and out stepped groups of teenagers.
Aaron’s attention went to a particular girl in the crowd. Her thick, dark hair had streaks of electric blue through it, and reached down to the curve of her back. Her long legs looked even more so in her tight jeans. A cropped top bared her midriff, flashing smooth, creamy skin. There was something on one side of her stomach: a large, dark mark that Aaron couldn’t make out from this
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