happy valentines day. here's a treat. 

"Spill," Blythe told me the moment the door was closed behind everyone. 

"Hold on," I told her reaching for my Imparter and making sure to call Eamon back. "It will be easier if I only have to tell this story once," I further explained, ignoring the look in Blythe's eyes. "Don't start," I warned just as Eamon picked up. 

"Ah, Poppy! I was feeling poopy when you ignored my calls." Eamon looked cheery. "What's up?"

I rolled my eyes at his stupid joke, and winced as Lyra giggled. "I can't believe that is something that was just said by Eamon Foster. I thought he's supposed to be funny," Gen remarked, although her voice was sarcastic. I questioned whether she was actually being rude or not. 

"Genesis?" Eamon said her name in a questioning tone. "I'm confused." 

"I'm at a sleepover," I told him, smiling. "I was going to call you to inform you that this was happening so we couldn't talk much, but the night has been really weird and taken a drastic turn." 

He immediately was aware of the tone in my voice and became concerned. "What's wrong." 

"My parents know I'm a pyrokinetic," I stated, but looked towards my friends in the same room as me. "But it gets weirder than that." 

"Is everything okay?" Eamon immediately asked. "You know that my family will support you if needed." 

"Everything is..." I wasn't quite sure if I would use the word 'okay' so I let the sentence linger on as I thought over what I could say next. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to release this information so what I'm going to say next is very top secret, but I trust all of you to keep it that way." At this I locked eyes with Genesis. I was wary of her, but knowing of her relationship with Lyra and everything she had admitted to us tonight, I was willing to put a significant amount of trust into her. "My dad's a pyrokinetic." 

Everyone gasped, no one louder than Blythe. "But your mother hates people with abilities!" she responded loudly. "That's impossible."

"Apparently, she thought he was talentless up until I was around ten. The reason they put me into Foxfire is because they were worried I would also manifest as a pyrokinetic, and they knew Foxfire would take care of me. They just assumed that they would be in the know when it happened, so they could explain it to me at that point. They weren't going to tell me if this didn't happen." The last sentence came as a realization, and I looked down at my hands in wonder. My parents were willing to keep my dad being a pyrokinetic a secret from me for the rest of eternity, they weren't going to tell me unless 'necessary.' 

"Your dad just seems so quiet and..." Lyra stopped herself, her eyes widening. "Oh my gosh, I'm your dad."

All of us couldn't stop our laughter at her words, even Eamon joining in. "For being the father of a fifteen year old girl, you sure look good," Eamon told her, and if he had been there in person I wonder if I would've slapped him across the chest as I had the urge now. I felt a bit of bile raise in my stomach at the tone of his flirty words. I was used to him only using that tone with me. 

"Yes, what secret moisturizer are you using?" Gen added on without a pause, so there was no awkwardness after Eamon's joke. 

"No!" Lyra protested, laughing herself. "I meant, like, we both carry ourselves the same way. I feel like our personalities are similar, so I kind of understand why he's not told you until now. I mean, honestly, I think you're the same. All of us are. The only people who know about our abilities because we made the decision to personally tell them, is the people who need to know." 

"I told Blythe." 

"Yeah, but that was kind of a need to know. I kept stabbing at you for keeping something from me until you finally broke down and admitted it," Blythe responded, her voice holding regret. "Sorry about that, by the way." 

My head snapped in her direction, and my eyes softened. "Blythe, you know that I was already planning to tell you anyways. Just because I did it earlier than I had planned doesn't mean that it was because you kept stabbing at me. I simply realized that I couldn't keep it from you for longer without the end result having both of us hurt." 

"Which proves my point," Lyra continued her original statement. "You needed to tell her right then. You needed to tell me and Gen because we were all in the same place at the same time, and Eamon was there when you manifested so that's that." 

I paused as I thought about something. "Eamon," I said his name, trying to make sure his attention was on me. "Have you told anyone about me?" 

"My parents know about you, and I'm pretty sure my siblings do too," he admitted. "But I thought you already knew that."

"I thought you would've told Mika or Serena," I told him, biting my lip. I didn't want them to know. 

"I would never tell them. They're my best friends, and they're family, but it isn't my secret to tell. My parents knowing is one thing, but two people who go to the same school as is a whole other story. Especially Serena. She can be... callous." He winced at his own statement. 

"I know," I responded, not saying anything else on the topic. 

"So, how are things going to go, now that your parents know?" Blythe looked at me expectantly. 

"They still have more to tell me, but they didn't want to interrupt our sleepover for more. I just can't believe this is all happening. It seems so fast." I looked to the side in wonder. "I'll probably update all of you about what they tell me at school on Monday." 

After a bit more discussion, we all said goodbye and goodnight to Eamon before resuming our sleepover, and off of my request, we didn't mention the situation with my parents for the rest of the night. 

The next morning after this, I went downstairs, hoping to find my parents, but instead finding a note saying they both had to go to their restaurant earlier because of a sudden rush of customers that the rest of their staff were not prepared to handle. Usually I would go down to the restaurant and help when it got like that, but it didn't say anything about me being needed, and to be completely honest I wasn't feeling up to going down and helping my parents. It would be too normal. 

With my friends just leaving, I contemplated what I could actually do. After going over my options I decided to take the chance and went back up to my room where I had my imparter laying out. "Hey," I greeted. 

"Hey," Eamon responded. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm just bored," I admitted. "All my friends left and my parents aren't home." 

"I'm not doing anything right now. Do you want to come over?" he invited me. "We can hang out. You can show me all the cool pyrokinetic tricks you've been learning, and I can show you all of the regular old telepathic tricks everyone has seen before." 

I laughed. "Eamon, you're probably one of the most advanced telepaths in the entire Lost Cities, and you're still only fifteen, which means you still have room to grow. I doubt the regular old tricks you do are that common," I assured him. 

He looked trouble. "Yeah, well, I live with my mom. You don't." He seemed ready to quit the subject. "So? Do you want to come over?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, sure," I relented. "Give me, like, ten maybe twenty minutes. I still have to get ready." 

"No worries, I'll just be sitting here, putting my life on pause as I wait for you to arrive and make everything better," he joked. 

I blushed at his joke but said my goodbyes before quickly running around my room to get ready. In case my parents came back to me being gone, I left them a note saying I went out with a friend and I wasn't sure what time I would be back. By the time I got to the Foster residence, I had only taken fifteen minutes. I was slightly proud of the achievement, but was thrown off when Keefe Foster was the one to greet me at the Leapmaster. 

"Ah, Miss. Poppy!" Eamon's father cheered in a lighthearted manner, using the nickname Eamon generally called me. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"I'm just here to see Eamon," I replied nervously. Eamon told me that his parents liked me, but I wasn't quite sure if I could take his word on it. It shouldn't have mattered too much if his parents liked me, we were just friends, but there was still that part of me that craved acceptance. 

"Of course, I'll bring you up to him. Oddly enough, I was just about to leave to meet my wife at your restaurant." Keefe continued to spend the short trip up to Eamon's room explaining how it was the anniversary of his and Sophie's wedding and despite the fact anniversaries weren't something Elves would celebrate every year, they always at least went out for lunch and dinner as a little tradition. 

"That's actually really fun," I responded with interest. It was still strange to see the Fosters as more than just an idea and a legend, they were real people with little family traditions and actual emotions and feelings. 

"Usually Eamon spends the day trying his best to draw as well as I do, and failing miserably," Keefe joked as we came up to Eamon's door. "But we love him anyways, right?" He looked at his son with full pride shining in his eyes, and there was no denying the love Keefe Foster held for his children, Eamon included. 

"Dad," Eamon practically whined out. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" 

"Why, yes, I do," Keefe replied. "Some advice for the future, don't leave the little lady hanging at the door. Were you going to let her just explore the entire premises in hopes of finding you?" Keefe let out a snort, but his face held humor. "I'm going down to meet your mother at the Madigan restaurant and then I'm probably going to stay after to work on the mural. We're thinking of heading over to the Dizznee's for dinner. You and your friend who is a girl are welcome to join us." 

Eamon's eyes widened, and I don't think my face had ever been as red as in that moment. "We'll think about it, but probably not. I'm still not talking to Serena." 

"If you change your mind, we'll be there around five," Keefe gave a nod in my direction of acknowledgement before heading out. I wondered how long Keefe thought I was planning to stay back if it was around noon and dinner wasn't going to be for another five hours. 

"Sorry about him," Eamon apologized, giving me a small smile. 

"He's fine, I like your dad," I told him, my words truthful. There had been a time where I thought his father was a narcissist, but after getting to know Eamon I realized that he was just like his father in personality--and both had a sense of humor that was hard to warm up to at first. Eamon, and I assumed Keefe as well, may say things that hurt someone, but his intent is never to actually make the person feel bad. In his head he understands that it is sarcastic, he doesn't realize that it might not translate that way. That was what led to me hating him for years, simple miscommunication. 

When he called me "poopy," it didn't occur to him that it was a nickname which reminded me of gulon poop ending up on my head, a traumatic experience that left me humiliated which led to me be bullied for over a year afterwards. To him, it was a fun play on my middle name that was a lighthearted joke. When he found out I didn't like nor appreciate the nickname, he stopped using it instantly and instead decided that he would actually call me Poppy. I liked how he recognized his mistake and immediately made the change, and he had spent the last few weeks making up his mistake to me by offering friendship, advice, and his support. 

We both sat on his floor and for the next hour he showed me the drawings his father had been talking about, and suddenly I realized how humble Eamon could truly be. His penmanship was fantastic, and definitely rivaled his fathers. "You really are, like, the best mixture of your parents," I accidentally let out while looking at the drawings. 

Both of us blushed, which was a weird look on Eamon. He scratched behind his ear. "Uh, thanks?" He didn't know what to respond. 

I chuckled nervously, as if it would get rid of the all of a sudden tense atmosphere. "I mean, like, you have your mother's insane telepathic abilities and now I come to find you have the same artistic abilities as your dad." 

"I wouldn't say same," Eamon immediately tried to dispute. "I'm not that great, I will say I can at least somewhat draw. I can't paint like him though." 

I smiled gently at him. "You're trying to be modest, but I think you're great at it." 

"Well, I have been working to this point my entire life though. I'm sure you're great at the hobbies you do." I stared at the drawing I was holding in my hand, and tried to think about what I would be doing at the moment if I wasn't with Eamon. It was then that I realized that I really was as boring as I thought. 

"I don't really do anything," I admitted to him shyly. 

"Don't you cook with your parents?" Eamon questioned. 

I shook my head. "No, I'm not allowed to because according to my mom, I make big messes. When I help out at the restaurant I usually help with serving and everything like that." 

"I like how much of a people person you are, not matter how hard you try to deny it," Eamon replied. "You just get people to like you without even trying. It's admirable." 

"What are you talking about? Barely anyone likes me. You're the one who is somehow friends with practically everyone at school."

"People don't like me because of my personality, they like me because who my parents are," he responded, his face holding a frown. "All the people you surround yourself with, they're there because they genuinely like you." 

"Eamon-"

"No, listen here," he interrupted me, and sat up. His arms waved around as he explained himself, "Blythe is basically the best example for this. She hates me, but she likes you. She has no care for titles and parents, and so her not liking me shows that I'm not a people person because of my personality. I'm a people person because those people are scared of the power I receive from my parents and don't want to get on my bad side." 

"Blythe doesn't hate you, she hates how you don't include her with you guys when you're with Serena and Mika," I told him, but regretted my words. I wasn't sure if Blythe wanted them to know that. "Besides," I decided to change the topic, "what about Serena and Mika?" 

"I doubt they're the best examples for personality," Eamon said, rolling his eyes. "Mika's great, I will say, but Serena only hangs around me because Celeste and Ivan are going to end up together and that makes her think that I might see her as anything other than a cousin--but it's weird to me, because she is my cousin in my head. I just don't like her that way, and I wish that we could be just friends." 

"Well, no matter what, you still got me to like you despite the fact I hated you for years, so there must be some sort of redeemable quality there," I informed him lightheartedly. "And I could not care less about any sort of power your parents may hold, in reality I wish it was less power so that people didn't look at me all weird when we hang out at school." 

After that, we decided to change the topic and somehow were able to keep up conversation for over two hours, simply talking about things going on in our lives and also talking about our childhoods and how they differed. We both laid on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling as we conversed. 

"I know we sort of brushed this topic earlier," I started when conversation started to dwindle, "but I'm really happy that I got over myself and actually got to know you. You're really not a bad person, Eamon." 

"I haven't said this before, but when you manifested as a pyrokinetic, things were turning really sour for me. I had an ulterior motive. I really wanted a friend, and I was hoping if I helped you it would convince you that I was a good enough person to keep around," Eamon explained to me. 

We locked eyes and I smiled at him. "It's hard to believe there was a point in time that I genuinely hated you. Now I view you as one of my best friends. Even with the ulterior motive, you've always been there to help me. And you never once made me feel weird for manifesting as a pyrokinetic or wanting to keep it a secret. Plus, you never even told Serena or Mika about it." 

"I like hanging around you, Nova." 

I looked at him confused as he didn't use my nickname, but decided it would be awkward to not reply. "I like hanging around you, too." 

***

so did y'all like your 3000+ words of pure eava goodness?

i decided to be nice and give you a valentines day gift. next chapter will go back to the plot, but i figured y'all would appreciate some eava time. also this is unedited bc i have to start getting ready for work in a few minutes. 

chapter question: what do you think is the secret her parents have still not told her?