Chapter 4

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Nine year-old Thalia ran inside after school, dumped her backpack on the floor, kicked off her sneekers, and fled up the stairs to her little brother's room.

She flung open the door, grinning widely, "JAY JAY, I'M HOME!" Her brow crinkled in confusion when her two year-old little brother didn't giggle like he usually did upon her bursting in.

She walked over to his bed, searching through the mound of blankets to see if he was hiding. "Jay Jay?"

The bed was empty, she checked in the closet and then turned around, walking back out of the room, "MOOOMM?" She waited for an answer, but none came.

Two years ago she would've called for her father as well, but that was before when her mother had caught him cheating with another woman, and they'd gotten a divorce. The memory settled over her like a dark cloud, bringing with it visions of her parents, who had been fighting for custody of them in court. Thalia was pretty certain her mother had just wanted them to rub it in their father's face. She never even paid attention to them anymore. . .

She bit her lip, trying to push the painful thoughts away, and made her way up to her mother's bedroom. She pushed the door open to peek inside, wine and shot glasses accompanied by empty bottles of just about every type of liquor was strewn around the room and there were various stains covering the once-white carpet, other than that, the room was vacant. She wrinkled her noise, pulling the door shut again.

Finally, she decided no one was home, which was odd because her mom rarely left the house anymore, and when she did it was to go to a party or a bar and she always left Jason and her home. It wasn't likely he'd still be at school since the bus always arrived much sooner than she did (she liked to walk). She jogged back down the steps and walked over to the counter, grabbing the home line and dialing her mother's number. The phone rang three times before Beryl's voice sounded at the other end.

"Hello, darling. Do you need something?" Her voice was strained and worried, but she sounded sober. Thalia rolled her peircing blue eyes, For once. She thought bitterly

"Yeah. . . I was wondering when you'd be home. Did you take Jason out?" She leaned against the counter, tapping her nails against its surface, aware that she was probably acting much older than someone her age. She'd grown up much too fast over the past few years, having to take care of herself, her mother, and Jason practically on her own.

There was a long pause before Beryl answered, "I. . . Have something to tell you when I get back."

Thalia's fingers froze above the counter top, her heart rate picking up speed, "What? What happened?" She asked, clutching the phone with both hands, "Did something happen to Jason? Is he okay?" Worse case scenarios were running through her head. Come on, don't be stupid, he's probably fine, maybe he'd decided to snack on another stapler. . .

"He's fine." Her mother said, her voice was still strained.

Thalia blew out a sigh of relief, slumping against the counter. "Okay, did you take him to the park?"

"I'll talk to you about it when I get home." she assured her.

Thalia could see her mother, driving down the street, clutching the steering wheel too tight in one hand and her phone in the other. Her brow was probably creased, and her mouth was probably pulled into a tight line. Thalia was surprised that Jason wasn't crying in the back seat and her mom wasnt yelling at him to be quiet.

Her heart leaped. Maybe something was going to change, maybe things could just go back to how they were. . . Her mom would stop drinking and start taking care of them again and Thalia could have time to be with what little friends she had--

"Do you want me to bring you ice cream?" She almost sounded happy, Thalia imagined her wearing a false smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her mom always brought ice cream home with her when she was about to break bad news or every time they'd gotten into a fight (which was often), as if that would make everything better.

When she’d told her about the divorce, Thalia had been plowing into a huge ice cream sundae at her favorite ice cream shop, and when Beryl had lost her acting career because of her crazy antics (which she pulled off just for attention from the press), and terrible drinking habits, she'd tiredly plopped a scoop of vanilla ice cream into a bowl and slid it across the counter, almost sober, to her daughter.

Every time since then when Thalia had broken down and yelled at her, demanding that she get up and get a job, crying and telling her that she was too young to raise Jason by herself, Beryl had had looked at her with her once-bright blue eyes and told her, her speech slurred, to go get some ice cream out of the freezer, or handed her a wad of cash and advised that she go buy some, and they'd work it out later. Of course they never had.

Thalia pinched the bridge of her nose, "Mom. What happened?"

The line went dead and Thalia threw the phone, yelling in frustration, and stomped up the stairs to her room.

She slammed the door shut and plopped onto her bed, resting her elbows on her knees and burrying her face in her hands. Jason was all she had besides her three friends at school, everyone else either made sure to stay far away from her, or shot nasty comments and did everything in their power to bring her down.

She never saw her dad anymore, she didn't know where he was, and she didn't really care. The one time she'd called him asking for help, he'd just told her that there was nothing he could do about "that washed up old floozey" and hung up the phone. 

She hadn't tried to contact him since, and she didn't want to call the police, because, what if they took Jason from her? or what if they were put in some terrible place that was worse than their home now?

She couldn't help but wonder if she'd done the right thing, raising Jason all by herself, spending all of her free time working any paying job she possibly could at her age, and pretending everything was fine. She heard the front door swing open and slam close, and Beryl's high heels clicking across the hardwood floor, and wiped the tears quickly from her face.

She didn't even stop to wonder why Jason wasn't crying or making any noise at all as she flew down the stairs, and stopped dead in her tracks half way down when she saw her mother.

She was wearing a blue sun dress with a white cardigan that was slipping off of her left shoulder. Her blonde hair wasn't ratty for the first time in months and had been washed and carefully styled, she had even taken the time to apply make up. She was holding a large container of pistachio ice cream, and smiling uncertainly up at Thalia. But none of that was the cause of her shock.

"Where's Jason?" she asked, staring at her mother.

"We can talk about that over our ice cream, w--"

"No." Thalia said dangerously. "Where's my brother?"

Her mother's smile faltered and Thalia sunk down onto the steps, feeling sick. "Oh my gosh, what did you do?"

"I want us to be happy." she said, her blue eyes sparkling. "Remember when your father was always here, before Jason was born? Remember how happy we were? We were always laughing, your father still loved me. . . He didn't. . . He didn't want anyone else. And then. . . And then we had your brother, and ever--"

She shot to her feet, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM? WHAT DID YOU DO?" She screamed.

Her mother's face went pale, "I thought this is what you wanted, you always were complaining about having to raise your brother, you--"

"ANSWER MY QUESTION."

"I put him up for adoption," Thalia's stomach dropped, her throat closed up. "I thought we could be happy. Just me and you. I'm going to stop drinking, I'll get a job, and I'll raise you right without him. I can't handle two kids at once--"

"You really thought I would want to get rid of my brother? You thought I was that selfish? Well, here's a newsflash for you, I'm nothing like you."

By now tears were streaming down her face, she turned around, bolting back up to her room and slamming the door. She pushed her bed against it and backed away, listening as Baryl cried outside, pounding against the door, pleading with her to come out so they could work this out.

* * * * *

Thalia was eleven now, she'd been searching for her brother for two years. When she'd first started out, she'd never had thought it would take this long to find him. But her mother had refused to tell her where he was, begging her to just live with her, saying that they could make it work. So Thalia had gone to every adoption agency she could find, searching for him. A few times, she'd gotten so close that it hurt.

Once, by the time she'd reached the agency she'd thought he was at, he'd been moved the previous day because of issues with the other children. The director had refused to tell her where they'd sent him.

At least now she had Luke, she looked over to where he was sitting with his back agaist a rock, scratching pictures into the sand with a stick, the scar that ran across his face standing out starkly against his tanned skin.

He'd gotten it when they'd met. Last year, Thalia had heard snarling and yelling, and had gone to find the source, stepping around the corner, she'd seen Luke. He was backed up against a wall, trying to defend himself against three stray dogs that were so thin you could see their ribs. But Luke was in just about as good of shape, and apparently he had something they all wanted: food.

He was only armed with a severely bent golf club, whacking the dogs with it at every chance he got and looking exhausted and terrified. His clothes were ripped and there were cuts all over his arms, bloody bite marks over the wrist of his left hand and a deep gash running from the bottom of his left eye and down to his chin, dripping crimson liquid down onto the floor and his clothing.

Thalia had shouted, hoping to draw the dogs' attention away from the boy, and plowed into the fight, armed with a large kitchen knife.

Together, they'd sent the dogs bolting with their tails between their legs. Luke had just stared at her like she was a saint. "Thank you. . . I-I thought. . . You saved my life."

Thalia's eyes widened. "No, I was just doing what was right. You don't need to thank me." She held out her hand, "I'm Thalia. Thalia Grace, come with me, we need to get you fixed up."

Luke had smiled at her, despite his eyes being clouded with pain, fatique and hunger, and shaken her hand with his good one, "I'm Luke Castellan, and that's probably a good idea."

"Thalia?" Luke's voice snapped her back into the present, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking." she said, leaning back against a tree, and fiddling with the metal braclet on her wrist.

Luke tilted his head to the side, concern lighting his eyes. "What about?"

"The day we met." Thalia admitted, twisting the bracelet around her wrist, one side of Luke's mouth rose  higher than the other, bringing a smile to her face.

"That was quite a traumatic experience for me." Luke said, peircing blue eyes sparkling with mischeif.

She laughed, "I can imagine."

Luke considered her for a moment, "Something's bothering you." He stated.

She rolled her eyes, "When did we get to the point where you know me better than I know myself?"

"Quite recently." Luke said, like this was completely obvious, making her roll her eyes again. "But seriously, what's wrong?"

"I just. . ." She hesitated, staring at the ground and pulling at the grass, "What if I don't ever find him?" She asked quietly, "What if we're doing this for nothing?"

Luke quickly moved across the space separating them and sat in front of her, lifting her chin so she was looking him in the eye. He dropped his hand, searching her eyes with a serious and concerned expression.

His eyes always amazed her, the striking blue of them that she couldn't seem to find anywhere else. They were beautiful from a distance, appearing to be a deep, almost indigo color, but this close, they seemed to hold hundreds of different shades of blue, with hints of green, blue and silver hiding in their depths. They reminded her of winter, but not in the a cold, harsh way that was usually associated with snowstorms and the earth being swept of most green life, but sitting warm inside in your favorite sweater and watching the flakes fall gently from the sky, blanketing the earth and refracting rainbows of light back into the sky.

She'd heard people say that eyes were gateways to the soul, but she'd never really understood what they'd meant until she met Luke. She could almost always tell what he was thinking just by looking into his eyes. Right now, they were soft and concerned, telling her that everything would be okay, that he was there for her, and promising that he always would be. 

"We'll find him, Thalia." he said, bringing a determined light to his eyes, "I swear it. I'll never stop looking until the day I die. We'll find Jason, we'll bring your little brother home."

"You promise?" she choked, tears threatening to form.

He nodded without hesitation, "I promise."

'Kay, Thalia's POV still isn't present day, sorry if that's confusing! I'm pretty sure it says, "Death to Beryl" behind Thalia (and on her shirt) in the pic I added, I thought that was fitting. Also sorry for taking so long to update *sigh* I don't deserve you guys