CENSORED 50: KEIRA

“Oh my dark, I love this place,” Aspen shockwaves. “I want to live off campus next year.”

I frown, disappointed by the prospect. I thought we’d moved past separation being an option for us. I’ll never choose between either of them. Haven’t they chosen me?

“What’s that face for?” Maverick tremors.

“Nothing,” I cinder.

Aspen takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at them.

“I just sort of hoped we’d all room together again next year,” I ash.

Aspen looks at me like I’m missing the mark before addressing Maverick. “Our house should have a king-sized bed and probably two bathrooms.”

My eyes start filling up. “Our house?”

“Yeah,” Maverick agrees. “It’ll just be a starter house for now. But it definitely needs to be a house.”

“I’m tired of shielding all the time too,” Aspen vents.

“We’ll have to get a bigger one once we’re done with secondary and start adopting,” Maverick rumbles.

“We’ll have to move.” Aspen puffs out his lips. “It’s hard to find good real estate so close to the academy.”

Tears flow down my cheeks. “We’re adopting?”

Maverick shakes his head like he can’t believe I’m not following along. “I think we should choose older kids. Then we can probably handle five or six easy.”

“We should foster first,” Aspen outgasses.

Maverick crumples his brow. “In case it doesn’t work out?”

“Uh no, it already didn’t work out. That’s the problem,” Aspen counters.

“You’re right. Everyone deserves to experience the kind of love our house will have, and those kids need it the most.” Maverick turns his attention to me while I stand there weeping. “You taught us how to love, Keira. You can teach any snotface kid.”

“I didn’t think I could love you any more than I already do, but here you are proving me wrong,” I erupt with joy.

I just stare at them, amazed beyond words I ever thought for a second we might not be meant for each other. I love these punks with everything in me.

Ainsley has torn down so many walls. For me, she really challenged my belief Synergy was the only thing I could inevitably want. I don’t need something more. This is more. While I might be greedy, I’m definitely not broken. My heart is just too big for one man to fill it all.

“Blitz me,” Ainsley complains. “Why are you all over here crying in a corner like a bunch of soggy squibs?”

“We’re over here admiring the view.” Aspen points to her brothers.

“If I hear another word about my brothers’ butts...” she hangfires.

I wipe my eyes and pull her in for a hug.

“Can we freaking vote now?” she asks seriously, shrugging me off her.

It’s weighing on her. She wants to get it over with so she can enjoy the remainder of the time with her family. Our visit to the Coterie stronghold isn’t meant to be a social call. It has a purpose.

I hiss a sigh. “Always so impatient.”

“Asher won’t feed me until this is done,” she returns fire, “and I’ve never been so hungry in my life.”

“Luke’s really worked up an appetite in you,” I crackle.

She clicks her tongue. “No, he’s just gluttonous gorger who spends so much time feeding himself he forgets I don’t live on spark juice.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so delicious,” Luke defends himself, wrapping his arm around her to tug her back toward the group.

“It’s really, really not him,” Maverick slags.

“But he doesn’t tell her no,” Aspen backwinds.

“Do you blame him?” Maverick outcrops.

“I’d be afraid to tell her no too,” Aspen vogs.

I slide my arms around their waists. “She isn’t going to choose her water spark.”

They frown.

“What’s the plan, Boss?” Aspen whooshes.

“The plan’s to not let him bloody die,” I pop. “We have to vote for her water spark.”

We all gather around the dining room table to start the arduous process of deciding Ainsley’s future.

“As you vote, you should consider how the results might change your circumstances if you don’t choose a spark for me,” she begins. “Dad, you’ll have to give up your retirement.”

“It was a nice vacation,” he says wistfully.

“Archie, you won’t get to travel anymore.”

“Like that would stop me,” he tuts.

“Asher, all the good you’re doing with the shelters might stop.”

“And it might not…” he trails off.

“Adley, you’re probably gunna lose a bunch of followers.”

Adley gasps. “Not my likes!”

“Atlas…” she hangfires.

Atlas coughs. “I’ll be abstaining from voting.”

“On what grounds?” Bert demands.

“As she was about to point out, Dad, my stake in this decision is void,” Atlas states. “Since Fiona got the petition passed to open the literature to Regulars, Orderlies, and Sparklers alike, I don’t need the pass anymore.”

“People,” Ainsley snicks.

“Semantics,” Atlas contends.

“As for the vote, I’ll be abstaining from voting as well.” There are complaints from the crowd, but she pushes through with her explanation. “I’m starting to realize I brought this on myself. I carried you five through the Spark Ring with me.” She points to her family. “A piece of each of you is what ignited. Dad is my well, the holder of all my sparks; Adley is my air, never letting me get too serious; Asher is my water, my tears and all the softness of my heart; Atlas is my earth, always keeping my furious butt grounded; and Archie is my fire, always bright, always burning.

“But understanding that wasn’t enough to tame my sparks. I needed more. Keira, Maverick, Aspen, and Grady, you’re the supportive ropes pulling my bucket up the well. All my friends are supporting ropes.” She turns to Luke, placing her palm over his heart. “You’re my bucket, Luke. You’re the strongest person I know, so if I’m going to trust one person to carry the people I love most, it’d be you every day of the week because you’ll protect them. That’s what you do.”

He reaches his hand up to cover hers. “And I have to trust them to keep themselves in the bucket. Otherwise, the whole trawling thing will tip.”

She grins and reaches up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “And I have to let a blitzer know what’s in the bucket. They deserve to know how heavy it is.”

He smiles, and my erupting eyes start spewing again. He’s finally figured out how to be strong enough for her.

“I’m abstaining from voting in lieu of a condition,” she reports. “You can only choose between two options. Option A: None. This no spark option means when the Dark Royal Guard comes, I’ll request they put all my sparks to sleep.”

“What’s the second option?” Grady growls, clearly not liking the first one. He’s not alone.

“Option B: You pick the spark. You can pick any one you like for me, but it can only be one,” she quickfires.

“There should be a third option. Option C: All,” Asher proposes. “You shouldn’t have to choose between them or give them all up.”

“I’ve thought about that, Asher, but it’s too dangerous. There’s a Ward floor designated to shattered sparks who tried the same thing and failed gloriously. No one has been successful at keeping more than one spark. As much as I’d love to keep all these slugs, which I never thought I’d feel let alone admit, if I can’t choose one, I can’t choose any. It’d be like choosing between the four of you. I’ve already associated each of my sparks with one of you. Making the choice myself isn’t possible anymore.

“But it wouldn’t be fair for me to take the choice from everyone else. I won’t be the Coterie to destroy our family ladder. If one falls, we all freaking fall. And the reality is that if they lock me away, you’ll lose me entirely. You can live without these pieces of me, and I can live without these pieces of me, but none of us will survive a total loss. So, choosing all isn’t a viable option, and to show how much I mean that, I’m electing to give up my vote in lieu of this condition.”

“Condition accepted,” the Coteries say in unison. They look at us expectantly. We all nod, albeit uncomfortably.

“I think the little extra in you is genetic,” Luke seiches.

“Says the guy whose parents have classic obsessive tendencies. He’s obsessed with her. She’s obsessed with power. You’re a bit of a mixed bag of both. Nurture really slapped you hard with that one, even if nature did slap me,” she fires back, jamming her finger in his chest.

He smirks and leans into it. “Seems like we balance each other out.”

“It should be a silent vote,” Bert suggests.

“Why, Dad?” she slamfires.

I’m personally relieved. I know how I’m voting, but walking away without Ainsley knowing how I voted is an infinitely better option, especially when what she wants is the no spark option.

“Because you have a clear preference,” he calls her out on her crap, “and you’re a little scary when you get riled up.”

Would she lay down a curtain of fire on her own dad? Thankfully, no. She just shrugs, accepting his truth.

Everyone writes their votes down on pieces of paper and shoves them into what Ainsley affectionately refers to as the Silent Vote Sock. It’s a fluffy monstrosity with holes in the toes.

“None,” she begins the vote reading.

“Water.”

Her eyes shoot to Luke. His expression is unreadable. Guilt flicks me right on the pit, but I’m not about to offer myself up as tribute for the slaughter just yet. It’s a silent vote for this specific reason.

“None.”

“None.”

“Water.” There’ll be at least one more of those.

“Water.”

“None.” She shakes the paper at Archie. “I said no more butts.”

Archie proclaims innocence. “That was not me.”

She snarls, and her dad starts cackling.

“Seriously?” She scowls at him.

Bert shrugs.

“Good to know we’re all taking my future so seriously,” she dryfires.

“You can laugh, or you can cry, Ainz,” he defends himself.

She spirals her scopes and fishes in the sock for the next vote.

“Water,” she repeats a fourth time.

I find myself proud of Luke. Despite wanting to be supportive of her, he isn’t sinking back into his weeny wavelet ways of doing whatever that means outside his own happiness.

“I’m sorry,” Grady yowls. “He makes you smile with all the doggone teeth. I didn’t have a choice.”

Ainsley’s eyes shoot around to him. There’s anger there but something else too. Acceptance. Forgiveness.

“Final draw for the tiebreaker,” Archie coos excitedly.

Luke might really win this thing. If he voted for her water spark, the count will be five, and he’ll seize the victory.

Ainsley holds the last slip in her hand for a moment. Two moments. Three moments. She draws a breath and opens it. Then she just sits staring at it.

Archie gets impatient and snatches it out of her hands. “None,” he announces.

Flint me. Luke voted like she wanted. The look on his face shows his regret over that idiotic choice. It cost him the win and probably his future with her.

“You voted for none, didn’t you?” Ainsley reads his expression the same as me.

He grunts his frustration, stands abruptly, and scuds for the door, obviously needing some time to process the coming change. He always does that when things get uncomfortable for him. That’s never changing. In some ways, it’s better. It means he’ll actually take the time to process his feelings before engaging again.

It’s Ainsley’s future, but it impacts all of us. Choosing to give up all her sparks means she’ll become a Regular, building more of a wall between her and Luke than if she’d chosen any other spark besides water. At least then he’d still have her with him, even if it isn’t in the way he truly wants. Except, that isn’t how he voted. He voted in line with what she wants, and that vote carried.

“Please don’t leave,” Ainsley begs him.

He pauses at the door, torn about what to do. After a minute of silence, she resigns herself to the loss. Her brow pinches, her eyes fill up with tears, and she sniffles like a sparkhead trying to keep the waterworks from flowing. She accosts her defiant eyes, scrubbing at the tears like they’re the most offensive dump she’s ever taken.

Luke turns to her, deepwatering a nervous lump down his throat. “I’ll never not scud out, Ainsley.” It’s a warning of things to come and a promise at the same time, “but I’ll always come back.”

She shoots out a long breath like she was holding it the entire time. “Giddy-the-heck-up then, White Horse.”

And that whipped foam pony gets right to giddying.