Page 9 of Jinxed

‘Let me look at that hand.’ Mom leads me through into the kitchen and sits me down firmly by the shoulders. This is when Mom really comes into her own – she is patient and firm and seems to have this untapped knowledge about all things medical. I have vague memories of her talking about going to medical school, but after Dad disappeared, she’d takena job working for one of Moncha’s subsidiary offices that provided baku customer service. It’s not her dream job – but it allowed her to provide for the two of us.

Attending Profectus was supposed to be my chance to help ease her burden and maybe allow her to rediscover some of her passions. But that’s not going to happen now. The rejection stings as much as my hand as Mom unwinds the makeshiftT-shirt bandage from my wound. She hisses a breath at the sight of it, then clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

‘Don’t move,’ she says, as she disappears into our bathroom.

‘Ow!’ I cry out as Mom returns and cleans the wound with an antiseptic solution.

She turns my palm this way and that. ‘You’ll live,’ she says with a sigh. ‘Any deeper and you might’ve needed stitches. That wouldhave put an end to your intricate soldering days for the summer – what were you thinking?’ She leans forward and pushes my hair off my face, scanning my head for other scrapes or cuts. ‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ I lean back to push her away, my hand throbbing.

She folds her arms across her chest. ‘Well, good. That means you can explain to me how this happened.’

I wince. ‘Zoraand I ran into Carter.’

‘Lacey!’ Mom’s tone is sharp. While she knows a bit about our rivalry, she’s more concerned that I don’t piss off the son of the second-most-powerful person in Moncha Corp.

‘What? He and his friends were jerks. Zora got spooked by one of their bakus and accidentally dropped Linus down into the ravine. So I went to get him.’

‘Oh honey,’ says Mom, disapproval warring withadmiration on her face. ‘And Linus is all right?’

I pull him out of my pocket to show her. ‘He’s a little bashed up. I’ll go downstairs and take a look at him, but he should be fine. I’m just so mad at those guys. And the fact that Carter got into Profectus and not me? Where’s the justice in that? I’m twice the engineer he is, my grades are always better...’

Mom’s mouth draws into a thinline, any residual admiration disappearing. It’s disapproval all the way, now. I’m sure the V-shaped frown marks at the top of her nose have been caused solely by my obsession with getting into Profectus. She knows my motives are good, but I think the obsession reminds her of my dad... and that didn’t end well. All I know is that when I was around five years old, he had some kind of nervous breakdown,leaving Mom and me, never to be heard of again. I don’t know the whole story because I’ve never pressed, but I know my intense drive can be triggering for Mom.

‘St Agnes isn’t the end of the world, and you’ll have Zora with you. You can still be an engineer.’

‘Just not for Moncha,’ I mutter.

Her expression softens, and she reaches out to stroke my hair. ‘No, not for Moncha. And if we have tomove, we’ll move. Sometimes you have to change your dreams, Lacey. No matter how hard you work, sometimes things won’t go your way.’

I want to protest, but I also know better. ‘I’m going to shower off and then go to my cave, okay?’

‘Okay, honey. But take a plate of food with you. You’ve had a shock today and you need your brain fuel.’

‘Not for St Agnes, I won’t,’ I mumble, dashing away to thebathroom so Mom can’t groan at me.

The heat of the shower scrubs the dirt and leaves from my hair and skin, but leaves me feeling raw. The fact that the choice has been taken out of my hands is what makes it even worse. I sigh. I just have to make an education at St Agnes College my new dream. And if I can’t be a companioneer for Moncha then I’ll be a...

My mind fails to come up with evena halfway decent alternative.

At least I’ll be with Zora, I remind myself, as the shower water around my feet finally starts to run clear.

Out of the shower, I throw on an old plaid shirt and some knock-off Lululemon yoga pants, winding my dark hair into a bun to dry naturally. I don’t have a phone to text Zora on, so I shoot her an old-school email on my ancient laptop, telling her I’ve foundLinus and I’ll bring him around to her unit tomorrow after I’ve fixed him up.

She responds almost straight away with a series of ‘Praise the Lord’ emojis. She has a real nostalgia moment whenever we email and fills the screen with as many emojis as she can.

Heading into the kitchen, I pick up a pot of ramen noodles, nuke them in the microwave and pour them into a thermos, then pick up my backpackwhile yelling goodbye to Mom. The television blasts the theme song to her favourite show as I shut the door and head to the elevator. I press the button for the basement level.

It’s time to work.

The elevator doors open into the underground parking lot, but I’m not there for the cars. Every apartment in the building is allocated its own small, rectangular storage locker. Most people keep bikes,tents or hockey equipment down here, but I convinced Mom to let me turn our locker into my own personal workshop. At first it was like being in a big cage, but I’ve hung so much stuff off the wire mesh fencing, I’ve created a nice, private space. And I almost never see anyone down here. It’s just me and the unwanted clutter. Exactly how I like it. My cave.

Bill Gates, Bill Hewlett and Steve Jobsmay have had their parents’ garages, but Monica Chan and I have our condo lockers.

‘When you have the drive to invent, you find the space to make it happen’ – one of my favourite Monica quotes.

I installed a thumbprint scanner in addition to the normal padlock for extra security. Occasionally it’s buggy and I have to force my way in, but this time I press the pad of my finger against it andit opens easily.

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