According to him, real dinosaur bones were actual y found here back in the 1960s. After a few more minutes, Kylie forgot about feigning disinterest and like the rest of the group-minus a few of the boys and Miranda-hung on Lucas's every word. Lucas took them up to a creek bed where an archeologist had roped off some prehistoric footprints. Kylie found the whole story fascinating. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Lucas's deep voice sounded hypnotic. She'd always found archaeology intriguing.
"So, are they stil excavating the site?" Kylie asked. "Couldn't there be even more dinosaur bones here?"
Lucas turned to her. "Not on camp property, they're not." His tone lost its earlier enthusiasm and his focus shifted back to the others so fast Kylie had no doubt that her being here annoyed the hel out of him. Surely he knew she hadn't chosen to be on his little adventure. If Kylie had any reservations about his attitude being a figment of her imagination, it died when Miranda whispered, "I don't see why that bitch Fredericka thinks he's into you. From what I can see, he barely tolerates you."
"I know," Kylie muttered, but even as the words left her lips, she recal ed how he'd looked at her last night in her PJs.
"I've been thinking about Fredericka and I swear, she's so evil," Miranda whispered. "I'l betcha she wasn't born at midnight. Some supernaturals lie..."
Kylie nodded, only half listening, and that's when it hit. "Oh my God, that's how I can do it. Thank you." Kylie gave Miranda's arm a good squeeze, and for the first time she felt as if uncovering the truth was in her reach.
Chapter Twenty-five
That evening, Kylie stayed behind at the cabin when Miranda and Del a went to the music get-together at the dining hal . Supposedly, some of the guys were going to sing and had brought guitars, and then, a little later, Holiday and Sky were bringing out some music CDs to play so everyone could dance. Kylie wasn't feeling in the mood to dance. Or even to listen to music. She had far more important things to do. Sitting at the smal desk off the kitchen, she reread the e-mail she'd just written, wondering if she should click send or delete the whole thing. Hi Mom,
We got computers in our cabin, so I thought I'd e-mail you instead of call.
Truth was, she figured she could lie better in an e-mail than over the phone.
You know how you are always fussing about me going over my minutes. Anyway, I'm doing okay. Another lie. Nothing felt okay. Wel , except her friendship with Miranda and Del a.
I have a question. We're doing some crazy horoscope readings and it's partly done by comparing your time of birth to that of your parents. And that was the lie that Kylie had been worrying about saying out loud, but she stil felt it was clever. Can you tell me what time you and Dad were born? And is there any way I could check and see when Nana and Papa were born? What about Grandma and Grandpa Galen? Don't we have like that family tree thing that Grandma filled out? Did she put the time of their births on it?
Thanks for your help.
Kylie
Kylie's finger hovered over the send button. She almost added, "please hurry," but decided not to push her luck. If she acted too anxious about it, her mom would start to ask questions. Best to play it cool.
Taking a deep breath, she hit send. Excitement shot through her. If this worked, she'd have her answer. Or at least, she'd be closer to knowing the truth.
She'd asked Miranda to clarify the whole midnight-born rule, and according to her, there were some humans who were born at midnight. And then there were some supernaturals who were not born at midnight. However, the latter were known as the untouchables-demons, born of the devil.
And while Kylie considered her mom cold, she didn't consider her evil. If one of her parents were part demon, she would have known. Right?
Then there was the whole probability that it had skipped a generation. Which was why Kylie had asked for her grandparents' times of birth. She knew she was dreaming that her mom would have that info at her fingertips, but hey, Kylie wanted answers. And she wanted them now.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Kylie stood guard over the computer, obsessively clicking NEW MAIL, when her phone buzzed. She ran to the bedroom to find it. As she hurried through the door, she remembered she hadn't listened to Trey's messages yet. He'd cal ed again during dinner, and she hadn't answered then, either.
She told herself it was because she was surrounded by people who could listen in, but she could have walked outside and taken the cal . She could have, but she hadn't.
Deep down she knew that meant something. She just wasn't sure what it meant.
Snatching her phone from the bed, she eyed the screen. Frowning, she took the cal .
"Hel o, Mom." Kylie fel on top of the mattress. "Didn't you get my-"
"E-mail? Yes, but I don't want to get an e-mail or text. I want to talk to you."
"Okay." Kylie listened as the silence fil ed the line. See, that was the problem with her and her mom. They real y had nothing to talk about.
"Did you have a good day?" her mom asked.
"It was okay." Another awkward moment. "Did you read my e-mail?"
"Yes," her mom said.
"Can you tel me what time you were born?"
"It was late."
Kylie's heart stopped. "How late?"
"I don't know the exact time. Are they feeding you wel ?"
Kylie closed her eyes. "It's camp food, only slightly better than the school cafeteria. Do you have your birth certificate? That should have the exact time."
"I think it was around eleven. Just say eleven."
"I need the exact time, Mom," Kylie muttered. "I told you. It's for a camp project."
"My birth certificate is in the closet in that box with al those other important papers and old pictures. It would take me forever to find it."
"Please?"
"Why is this important? You don't even believe in horoscopes."
There were a lot of things I used to not to believe in. "Like I said, it's for a camp project. Al the kids are doing it." Can't you do that much for me? "Do you have Dad's birth certificate?"
"Have you spoken with him?" her mom asked, lowering her voice.
"No," Kylie answered, and the feeling of abandonment swel ed in her chest.
"You're not angry at him, are you?" her mom asked.
Hell, yes. He left me to live with you. "Honestly, I don't know what I'm feeling."
"It's not good for you to be angry, Kylie."
Why not? You stay angry at him. Right then, Kylie realized something she should have realized long ago. Her mom was forever angry at her dad. Kylie just didn't understand why.