Fissure Read Online Free Page B

the pile than I’ve wrangled out answers,” I said, clearing my throat. “And I can’t even remember where I left my head.”
         My father took that in, sorting through it before answering. He was the kind of man that defined think before you speak . “So shutting yourself away and trying your hardest to pretend the world doesn’t exist hasn’t cured you of whatever this is?” he said, scrolling his eyes over me. I didn’t respond. I knew from decades of experience he wasn’t looking for one. “Only a fool would think that continuing down the exact same path would lead to a different result, and since neither of us are fools,”—he scrubbed his hand over his mouth threatening to pull up in the corners—“I’m sure one of us can come up with another option that is less dramatic and escapist to help the son I know you are come back to us.”
         I hated that reverse psychology crap. I succumbed to the inevitability of where this little father/son chat was heading, and though I couldn’t pinpoint the exact direction he was going with it, I knew it would be all downhill from here. I slouched down onto the nearest piece of furniture, acting more my biological age than my true one, as was my style anyways, until I felt the mattress molding around my body. William and Bryn’s mattress . . .
         My body wouldn’t have jolted harder than if I’d had power lines fitted over my head. Father ignored my insane reaction; at least, mostly ignored it. “What are you planning to do with your life next?”
         Nothing like a loaded question to ease a cat on a hot tin roof down. “Well . . .” I began, rubbing the back of my head and searching the ceiling for an answer of the genius quality.
         “That’s what I thought,” he said, interrupting my dead-end thoughts. “And since you’re perhaps too close to the situation to formulate a plan that will wield us a favorable result”—like running a Council meeting; after a century of dedication, it was hard for father to separate himself from the Chancellor role—“I’d like to suggest an option, something I imagine you’ll be rather eager to explore.”
         He was building it up, whatever scheme he’d come up in that mind of his.  Not a good sign.
         “You’ve been a rock the entire time of your Immortality, carrying out your duties without a question, taking your calling seriously, becoming the most capable strength instructor in our Alliance. Everything has been done with the larger good considered, selflessness at its pinnacle.”
         I coughed, looking away from my father going on about me being the Gandhi of Immortals. If there was a contest for that title, my name wouldn’t have been on the ballot. I wasn’t all selfish, but I wasn’t selfless either. That was a title reserved for my saints for brothers.
         “All right, father,” I interrupted, not able to take it any longer. “Building me up before you bring me down isn’t exactly your thing. Come on, I can take it,” I encouraged, waving my hands in a bring-it-on gesture. “Throw the hammer down. I promise I won’t cry.” His brows raised and I grinned. “I won’t cry too hard.”
         Gauging me a few more moments, he nodded, resolved. “Your brothers took a little time away from Immortality, either when they were in desperate need of something new or when their encroaching stations required it.”
         “Yeah, but the only times they’ve done that,” I interjected, shuffling through the memory files that all had the same red flag warning tagged to them. Red alert, red alert, red alert. “Was when they left to go to college,” I all but grumbled.
         “Precisely,” he answered.
         “I’m not the college type,” I said, that streak of Hayward stubbornness that ran in all of us rising like the tide.
         “That’s only because you’ve never tried,” he replied calmly. “Despite the view you