Christina Farley [Gilded 02] Silvern (epub)

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.”“Kud will be suspicious,” I say.“Then make sure he is not.” Mr.Han leans down and raises his thin eyebrows at me.“It will be your job to give the world the idea that this is a school-funded humanitarian trip.”The Council starts talking again as if a decision has been made.I’m going.Now they must decide how it will unfold.I rub my hands up and down my jeans, wondering what kind of insanity I’ve gotten myself into.The next day as I ride in the car with Dad driving down the highway toward his favorite golf course, Sky 72, I know I’m not much company.My mind can’t stop trying to dissect everything that happened at the meeting last night.Dad is explaining his latest work with Netlife in providing food and supplies to impoverished areas.I try to focus on what he’s saying, but I keep thinking about the Council and how Marc is a full-fledged Guardian.I bite my lip, trying to decide if Marc’s involvement is a good thing or not.Tomorrow at our NHS meeting, Marc and I will invent a reason for us as NHS students to visit North Korea.Meanwhile, the Council will work on procuring our visas to enter the country.“How is school going?” Dad asks as he pulls into the parking lot.He’s dressed in khakis and a navy collared polo shirt.He appears relaxed today without his usual shirt and tie, and the navy brings out the color in his skin.“Are you keeping up with your grades? I don’t want you slipping behind again.”“That was only because of the whole Haemosu fiasco,” I say.He turns the key, shutting off the ignition.His lips press together, and he leans back in his seat.“I thought we’d agreed that was over.”It irks me that he won’t look at me.He doesn’t ever look at me when we’re talking about what happened with Haemosu, or, according to him, what didn’t happen.The silence eats the space between us.He sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.“I’m sorry I missed your black belt test.I should’ve been there.It was for your second degree, wasn’t it?”Nodding, I finger the edge of my bag, wondering if I should tell him I was attacked.“I know you did great,” he says, and reaches out, patting me on the shoulder.“You always do.”“I didn’t pass,” I blurt out.I know he can’t read my thoughts and he can’t possibly understand what I’m going through, but isn’t that partly his fault? If he would only be more open to believing me, he might understand me better.“Well.” Dad’s eyes widen in surprise.“That’s okay.I’m still proud of you.And I’m sure Master Park will give you another chance.”“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble.I know he means well, but I hate how my secrets widen the gap between us.I just want to tell him about the Spirit World and everything I’m going through and for him to believe me.“I have something for you.” Dad fumbles with his pocket and pulls out a blue piece of paper.“There’s a lady at work who says origami creation helps relieve stress.I thought I’d give it a go.” He laughs and hands me a paper fish.“It’s kind of trivial, I guess, thinking about it now.The fish is supposed to represent happiness, determination, and strength.All of these are needed for the fish to swim upstream.”I hold the fish in my hand, tracing the rice paper swirls with my finger.“It’s perfect.”“Good.Well.” Dad taps the steering wheel and gets out of the car, signaling the end of our awkward conversation.And yet this awkwardness is our way of slowly finding each other.A beginning.My steps are light as we stroll up to the clubhouse.The front is all glass; it looks like a swanky modern hotel.We step into the clean, sparse lobby, and I breathe in its sandalwood scent.Flat-screen TVs line the walls, tuned to golf channels.I’m tempted by the leather couches scattered throughout the area.For a moment, I imagine coming here on a date with Marc, just the two of us.No crazy mythological creatures.No choices or destinies or hunts for orbs.I push that treacherous thought aside as I trail after Dad across the slate floor toward the onyx-colored marble reception counter.After Dad checks us in, the receptionist gives Dad a starting time, and we head to the lockers.As soon as I step through the door, an attendant rushes to assist me.“I’m fine,” I tell her, and strip off my jeans and gray T-shirt, replacing them with the golf shorts and matching shirt that Dad bought me, insistent that I wear these particular brands.Here in Korea, it really doesn’t matter if I’m a good golfer, just as long as I look the part.But I’ve gotten good at that, I realize.Playing the part.After I slip on my spikes and a disgusting pink visor, I deposit my street clothes in a wooden locker and head outside to meet Dad.He’s waiting for me at the starter desk downstairs.His dark hair is perfectly styled, and the pleats in his pants still look crisp and pressed despite our drive here.We find our golf bags, and I pull a nine iron while Dad gets his driver.Of course, he has to get the biggest club in his bag.I smile.The mood and the atmosphere are finally seeping into my pores, and my muscles are just starting to relax when Dad has to go ruin it all.“Had any more of those hallucinations lately?” He swings a practice shot.I frown.“Why?”“It’s not something you should be ashamed of.Your grandfather used to get them after Sun, your aunt, was killed,” Dad says.“You should keep me informed if you experience anything unusual.”“And then what happens? You medicate me like you wanted Grandfather to be medicated?”The starter interrupts us, calling Dad’s name.I stomp toward our cart.Meanwhile, Dad’s face is resolute.We are both stubborn as mules.“I’m trying to help.” Dad’s brow furrows with worry [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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