Backdated to 7/26/2014

Gemma gets up to her bedroom and closes the door behind her and she feels the walls closing in. Avalon, she thinks miserably, coming to a standstill in the middle of the room. She does not even have the energy to flop onto the bed. She is too shocked. Avalon, she thinks again, blinking tears from her eyes. They roll down her face, hot and salty. How can Avalon (beautiful, strong, perfect Avalon) be dead? Her assignment to Natron was supposed to be temporary. Avalon was supposed to come back for her. They were going to be together again and Avalon would be proud of her-

Gemma looks slowly towards the window, sees the sun setting behind the towers of downtown Boston. The smells of cooking waft up from downstairs - Beatrice is making something delicious as a farewell dinner for her, and telling Gabby and Ethan fanciful tales about how their big sister will be visiting more often and…

It’s a tempting offer, she thinks, finally climbing onto her bed. She presses herself into the corne where the two walls come together and, lacking a stuffed animal, hugs her pillow to her chest. It would be nice to be at a school for people with futures, instead of people without them. It would be nice if when people looked at her, they saw a girl with potential and options and stuff and not a girl who was headed for a Bad End.

But, she also thinks, which if an awful lot of thinking, if she goes to Boston with her father and Beatrice, it will make her mother very sad. It isn’t Carol’s fault that Gemma is a lot to deal with. It isn’t Carol’s fault that Gemma is dumb and steals things and can’t pay attention, even though Christopher always says it is. That’s Gemma’s fault, that she can’t be better…

Avalon thought she was good enough, she reminds herself defensively. Avalon thought Astrophyllite could be all kinds of good thing and she was going to make Astrophyllite better and on and on it goes, over and over until Beatrice calls her down for dinner. There are guests over, men and women with distinctive features who give Gemma that familiar darkness feeling even though she’s not wearing Astrophyllite’s coat right now.

She looks at her father and wonders how much he knows.

Maybe it would be best if she went to Boston. For everything.

She tries to be charming. She tries to make a good impression. Beatrice would not have invited these fancy friends over to meet Gemma if she did not want Gemma to impress them.

Later, as Gemma is packing to go home in the morning, Beatrice comes up to her bedroom and she says, “You’re lovely when you’re on your best behavior.” She gestures to the bare wall. It is sort of an eggshell color. “Maybe we can paint this to something more your taste if you’re going to be here more often,” she suggests. Gemma has never had a bedroom that she could decide the color of, and she wonders if Beatrice knows this. She must, she decides.

“Okay,” she says, nodding slightly. “I’ll think about what color I want.”

She has already decided: deep, dark Avalon green.