Free Infinity Lost by S. Harrison Page A
Authors: S. Harrison
I’m gonna have to spill.
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad. Or punish me,” I say, frowning up at him, pointing my finger at his nose like I have some kind of authority over the situation.
“You have to promise, though,” I demand.
He stands there with folded arms, expecting me to fess up without bargaining. He really should know better by now.
“Cross on it, and I’ll tell you.”
Jonah sighs and rolls his eyes. He knows he can’t catch me if I run off across the fields, which is exactly what I’ll do if he doesn’t swear on it. He grudgingly crosses his heart. I make him do that every time I think he might get mad at something I’ve done. In fact, this is the third time this week I’ve made him cross on something. As far as I’m concerned it’s a binding contract with absolutely no take-backs.
I take a deep breath, let out a huge sigh, and grudgingly confess. “It’s not the first bone that I’ve broken.”
The familiar “what have you been keeping from me?” crinkle appears on Jonah’s forehead.
“Explain,” he mutters.
“The first time was an accident, I swear. One night I took Beauty out for a ride by the lake and she got spooked by something and bucked me off. I broke my arm pretty bad,” I say, absent-mindedly rubbing a spot on my upper arm.
“What? When?!” blurts Jonah.
“Three years ago,” I murmur coyly.
“Three years?! Why am I only finding out about this now ?” Jonah bellows, his voice becoming louder with every word.
“I didn’t wanna get in trouble for taking her out without permission, so I snuck upstairs and went to bed. I willed my arm to get better, and by morning it was,” I say, looking guiltily at the ground.
“Well, maybe your arm wasn’t really broken? It could have been a bad bruise or . . . but that doesn’t explain how you just fixed your . . . you are in a lot of trouble, Miss Blackstone!” Jonah shouts. It’s kinda funny to see him so flustered.
“No punishment. You promised. You totally crossed on it.” I point the finger of power at the spot right between his eyes.
“But how did you just fix it like that? It’s simply not possible.”
“Well, quite clearly it is,” I say, waving my arm in front of his face. “I can heal cuts and bruises, too. Anything’s possible. You told me that. I used mind over matter just like you taught me.”
“That’s not exactly how it’s supposed to work, Finn,” Jonah says, softly prodding my arm. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yeah, totally! It hurts like crazy at first, but after the bone sets, it aches for a while and my arm will be a bit weak for a couple of days. It took a lot of practice to teach myself how to do it properly. In the beginning I really had to concentrate. Had to break a lot of bones before I was able to set them as quickly as I did just then.” I slap my hand over my mouth. What is wrong with me today?
Jonah puts his hands on his hips and gives me his interrogation eyes. “Start talking.”
After I make Jonah cross his heart two more times, I tell him how I had jumped off the roof of the house and broken my ankle, broken both wrists and all my fingers with a hammer, and broken my arm three times jumping off my bike and rope-swinging into tree trunks. There was also the time I jumped out of a tree onto the front of the Bentley one day when Arthur was taking it to the mechanic. Cracked two ribs and broke my wrist again. I really feel bad about that one. When one of the maids found Arthur, he was face-down on the driveway. He had died of a heart attack. For obvious reasons, I decide to keep that one to myself.
“Oh, and my nose got busted once when Carlo threw a rock at me, and another time he hit me with a tree branch. Cracked my arm that time, too.”
Those last two confessions just slip out. As soon as I say them, I want to take them back. I swear it has to be the bump on my head. I really don’t want Carlo to get in trouble because of me, and right now
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad. Or punish me,” I say, frowning up at him, pointing my finger at his nose like I have some kind of authority over the situation.
“You have to promise, though,” I demand.
He stands there with folded arms, expecting me to fess up without bargaining. He really should know better by now.
“Cross on it, and I’ll tell you.”
Jonah sighs and rolls his eyes. He knows he can’t catch me if I run off across the fields, which is exactly what I’ll do if he doesn’t swear on it. He grudgingly crosses his heart. I make him do that every time I think he might get mad at something I’ve done. In fact, this is the third time this week I’ve made him cross on something. As far as I’m concerned it’s a binding contract with absolutely no take-backs.
I take a deep breath, let out a huge sigh, and grudgingly confess. “It’s not the first bone that I’ve broken.”
The familiar “what have you been keeping from me?” crinkle appears on Jonah’s forehead.
“Explain,” he mutters.
“The first time was an accident, I swear. One night I took Beauty out for a ride by the lake and she got spooked by something and bucked me off. I broke my arm pretty bad,” I say, absent-mindedly rubbing a spot on my upper arm.
“What? When?!” blurts Jonah.
“Three years ago,” I murmur coyly.
“Three years?! Why am I only finding out about this now ?” Jonah bellows, his voice becoming louder with every word.
“I didn’t wanna get in trouble for taking her out without permission, so I snuck upstairs and went to bed. I willed my arm to get better, and by morning it was,” I say, looking guiltily at the ground.
“Well, maybe your arm wasn’t really broken? It could have been a bad bruise or . . . but that doesn’t explain how you just fixed your . . . you are in a lot of trouble, Miss Blackstone!” Jonah shouts. It’s kinda funny to see him so flustered.
“No punishment. You promised. You totally crossed on it.” I point the finger of power at the spot right between his eyes.
“But how did you just fix it like that? It’s simply not possible.”
“Well, quite clearly it is,” I say, waving my arm in front of his face. “I can heal cuts and bruises, too. Anything’s possible. You told me that. I used mind over matter just like you taught me.”
“That’s not exactly how it’s supposed to work, Finn,” Jonah says, softly prodding my arm. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yeah, totally! It hurts like crazy at first, but after the bone sets, it aches for a while and my arm will be a bit weak for a couple of days. It took a lot of practice to teach myself how to do it properly. In the beginning I really had to concentrate. Had to break a lot of bones before I was able to set them as quickly as I did just then.” I slap my hand over my mouth. What is wrong with me today?
Jonah puts his hands on his hips and gives me his interrogation eyes. “Start talking.”
After I make Jonah cross his heart two more times, I tell him how I had jumped off the roof of the house and broken my ankle, broken both wrists and all my fingers with a hammer, and broken my arm three times jumping off my bike and rope-swinging into tree trunks. There was also the time I jumped out of a tree onto the front of the Bentley one day when Arthur was taking it to the mechanic. Cracked two ribs and broke my wrist again. I really feel bad about that one. When one of the maids found Arthur, he was face-down on the driveway. He had died of a heart attack. For obvious reasons, I decide to keep that one to myself.
“Oh, and my nose got busted once when Carlo threw a rock at me, and another time he hit me with a tree branch. Cracked my arm that time, too.”
Those last two confessions just slip out. As soon as I say them, I want to take them back. I swear it has to be the bump on my head. I really don’t want Carlo to get in trouble because of me, and right now