“I think I want to put together a scrapbook. You know, of all the good times we used to have.”
“What good times?” Her eyes widen with curiosity, pale as stones.
I’m pretty sure she’s not trying to get me riled up, although it’s backfiring on her big time.
“Come on, Mom—you remember the good times.” I don’t let her hear my disappointment even though this blatant dumb blonde shit she’s trying to pull is really pissing me off.
“I don’t remember too many of those, just a lot of yelling—not enough money and too many bills to pay.” She picks up a deck of playing cards and pulls them out of the sleeve. “Anything in particular you want to share with me?”
Not really. But I don’t say that, I say, “All you remember about Daddy is yelling and not having money?” The sky outside the window darkens, the driving wind sends the branch of a eucalyptus scraping across the glass.
“It was hard for the two of us. We had you when we were both so young.”
“So you’re saying I’m the reason you and Dad had a rough go of it?” I struggle to keep it together.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She digs her palms into her eyes full with regret. “What I’m trying to say is—oh heck, Skyla, I don’t know. It was hard, and it was even harder when he died. Thank God for Tad because without him…”
I hop to my feet and take the stairs two by two. I’d rather sit alone in my bedroom with Chloe’s ghost. Maybe she’ll detail to me how Logan touched her, how it felt to have him wanting her. I’ll take anything over my mother and her dissertation on how Tad saved the day.
He sure as hell didn’t save mine.
***
I walk around my bedroom in a slow methodical circle, tapping the walls and saying her name as if daring her to appear.
My mother doesn’t bother coming up to repair any damage that may have occurred during our impromptu verbal scrimmage. Seems our relationship is on the path to a steady deterioration, and neither of us really gives a shit.
“Where are you Chloe? Afraid Logan might like me just a little bit better?” I whisper the words into the wall as though it were a part of her. “I would have had him anyway.” I’m not really into pissing off Chloe, but she’s become a good surrogate for my mother at the moment.
A drowsy feeling overcomes me, and I stagger over to the bed—flop down and indulge in the blank world behind my eyelids.
It feels like I’m falling—it feels unnatural like I’m rotating through the air in a series of erratic circles. I’m falling through space and time and landing right smack into a dream.
Do you know who I am? A girl in skintight jeans and a hot pink tank top beckons me over. Her long dark curls extend past her hips, and her eyes glint out like twin orange sunsets. She’s pretty in a scary, poltergeist from your nightmares, sort of way.
Chloe? I don’t hide my enthusiasm. Everyone around me knew her, and now I get to meet her, see her with my own eyes.
It’s me. She bleeds a necrotic smile. Do you know why I came? Her body stretches out another foot taller easy as pulling taffy.
So you can tell me how much you hate me? Honestly, it’s all I can deduce. I’m not sure if my sarcasm is coming in clear. My voice stagnates like I’m talking from inside a fishbowl.
I don’t hate you, she emits in a haunting river of vocal quivers. I called you here because I need you.
You can’t have Logan. I don’t mean for it to sound so cold or territorial.
I still have Logan where it counts. She says it serious.
I don’t think I want to help you with anything. Don’t come knocking around these eyelids anymore.
I will myself to wake up. It takes a bionic effort on my part to flutter my lids and open my eyes. I roll off the bed and land on the floor, my stomach writhing from nausea.
If she comes back I’ll smoke her out of existence.
I don’t know how, but I will.
14
Game Changer
Brielle once again manages to talk me into a mall crawl.
Outside the air is thick with humidity, heavy as a sopping wet towel. A thick sheath of clouds press in the heat and turn the island into one big sauna. It’s strangulating suffering in this airless environment devoid of any sunlight.
It’s an outdoor mall so we don’t have mercy of air conditioning unless we step into the stores, and already we’ve seen everything there is—twice.
We sit out under a giant umbrella eating our shared ice cream, a double scoop of chocolate from a cup. A herd of small children run in and out of a fountain, watching the water shoot up out of tiny spouts that line the area labeled, wet zone.
There’s something strange about this day that doesn’t settle well with me. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and it has nothing to do with the bizarre dark heat wave we’re embroiled in. It feels odd—as though someone’s watching me, following me. I scour the vicinity like a hawk, looking for people, animals, an errant shop worker who happens to be leering in my direction, but nothing.
“You’re thoroughly paranoid, you know that?”
I’ve made the mistake of sharing my thoughts with Brielle.
“I don’t know.” I stage my body out like a siren waiting to draw someone in. “It’s like an instinct. I just know someone’s watching. You ever get that feeling?”
“No—besides, you’re starting to creep me out. It’s the same kinds of stuff Chloe was saying before…” She shrugs and takes another bite of her ice cream.
“Really? Then maybe they’re back?”
“Don’t say that,” her voice sharpens. “Don’t ever say that, Skyla. There is nobody around us. Trust me I’ve looked. My dad is a detective, it’s in my blood to know these things.”
I don’t let Brielle see how shaken I am. It’s as if each passing moment brings them closer. Their intent is anything but good, that much I know. I can’t help but wonder if it’s the Counts. Bitch squad maybe? Most likely the latter, or worse, Tad and my mother.
“Oh thank God.” Brielle stands up and lunges into someone behind me.
It’s Gage.
“Hey!” I’m thrilled to see him, partly because Logan is never far behind and partly because I suddenly feel well protected. No offense to Brielle, but I’m pretty sure she’s worthless in that department.
“You’re late for your shift.” He pats her on the arm.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry! We have to go.” She darts around and gathers her things.
“Hang out for a minute,” Gage says to me. “I can give you a ride.”
“Sure.” I watch as Brielle freaks out on her way toward the parking lot.
“Drive careful,” I shout. “Is Logan here?” I revert my attention back to the ebony haired god seated before me. He’s already helping himself to the ice cream. He looks up and gives a wry smile.
“I’m not good enough?”
Something about the way he says it melts the pit of my stomach.
“Of course you’re good enough. It’s just you’re not Logan.” I’m not sure that made things better.
Gage leans back, takes me in without an apology. He lets his eyes roam free over my person, up and down like a body-scan until I clear my throat.
“You always rude like that?” I ask.
“I’m not trying to be rude. Sorry.” His dark hair nestles in curls toward the base of his neck. Gage Oliver has got to be the hottest guy on the planet, next to Logan, of course. It’s like they suffer from some genetic deformity that took over and accidently created two perfect beings. “Heard my dad’s looking into things for you.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty excited. I’ve never thought about myself as an angel before. More like the opposite.” Not really, but I don’t have anything else to say. I take a huge bite off my spoon and fill my mouth with chocolate to prevent me from saying anything that might sound stupid.
“Well you’re definitely an angel.” He arches his brows at me. “I know.”
�
��And you know this because?”
“It’s my gift.”
“Oh, Logan mentioned it,” I whisper. “He said you told him we weren’t going to die until a ripe old age.”
“Yeah, well, don’t go doing anything stupid like standing in front of a train. Just because you’re going to live doesn’t mean you can’t do it as a vegetable.” His features darken.
“Right.” Mental note: Gage equals buzz kill.
“I know something else about you.” He looks me over with a studious intent.
A bird whistles to his right, a large black beast, far too monstrous to be a crow.
“Oh, my God!” I press my hand into my chest in horror at the sight. It sits perched on the trashcan directly next to Gage. It’s gargantuan and demonic and looks as if it accidentally flew in from some prehistoric time period. Its feathers are the exact same hue of Gage’s hair, and its eyes are glued to him with great interest. “Make it go away.” I cover my face with my hands as a horrible tremor of fear darts through me.
I look up in time to see Gage flick his finger lightly into the air with no real malfeasance behind it.
The giant bird races into the sky quick as a demon, streaks across the hemisphere like a black billow of smoke until it evaporates into the grey nothingness of the sky.
“You made it do that didn’t you?” It was something more than your typical scatting of a bird. Something in the way Gage nonchalantly directed his finger in the air, told me so much more.
“I did.” He slumps into his seat as if bored with the effort he’s having to put in with me.
“So what is it that you know?” I try to sound disinterested but really I want to reach over and rattle out all his secrets.
“I know you’re going to marry me someday.” He doesn’t bother with a smile or a laugh, or anything to indicate he might be teasing.
“Well, I’m not.”
He pulls his cheek to the side almost apologetically. “You will.”
15
Virtue
The next afternoon, Logan calls and says he wants to take me somewhere. Of course, I said pick me up in fifteen minutes without even asking where. I’d go to the landfill if he wanted to.
I stayed up far too late last night, still afraid to sleep in my room. No scary dreams, thank God, but my head throbs from a lack of a solid eight.
Logan’s monster truck gets here a whole five minutes before he does by way of noise pollution. I wait at the bottom of the driveway, and wave to him as soon as he drifts out of the fog.
“Hey you,” I say, climbing into the cab.
“I would have come around to help you.”
“No worries.” I clasp his fingers from across the seat. I go to put my foot on the last wrung of the mini ladder and slip straight to the bottom. Without realizing what’s happening I’m floating through the air, rising effortlessly into the truck by way of his hand wrapped around my wrist. “How’d you do that?” I marvel, shutting the door and reaching for my seatbelt.
“It’s a gift.”
“You’re like really strong.” My heart beats erratic, swallowing up the extra oxygen my brain would have normally needed for me to say something a little more articulate. “Can I do that?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
“I don’t think so.”
He pulls out onto the main road and we start in on our adventure. Trees whiz by in a viridian blur. The fog rakes by in distended billows, faster and faster until it looks like we’re going back in time, or forward, it could go either way and on Paragon, and this wouldn’t surprise me.
“Your gifts can grow,” he says. “It’s rare, but they can manifest with time. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. It’s poison every single time.”
***
Logan takes me to one of the most beautiful natural wonders ever created by the hand of God, a set of waterfalls.
The Falls of Virtue are located in the dead center of the island. There’s a mountainous incline we climb seemingly forever until we crest up above the fog. The air is unusually clear—far more pristine than anything I was ever used to back in L.A.
“Wow.” Their sheer beauty steals my breath away. A rainbow shivers across the three sacred falls, and glows in the warm veil of sunlight as if to greet us. “It’s…” There are no words.
The mountain in the center disappears to greater heights, enwreathed in a layer of clouds at the base. The fog lies just beneath our feet, creating a mystical aura that floats above the water.
“You have unicorns here too?”
“Not at this location. They prefer the higher elevations where it snows,” he teases.
“So that’s where the water comes from?”
“Year round.”
I step out to the rim of the lake. The falls are loud, but not deafening like other waterfalls I’ve been to. It’s a soft enchanting rush, a never-ending flow of constant beauty that fills the waiting pool beneath. The water holds the same cobalt hue as Gage’s eyes, and for a minute he sears through my mind as if he’s admonishing me. Truth is—I’m still trying to digest those last few words he spoke.
“This is where I want to get married someday.” Not to Gage. Maybe it’s not the thing to say to the guy who’s not quite officially your boyfriend, but it feels right. This place practically warrants profound statements about ones future. Before Logan gets too bogged down with regret over bringing me here, I offer, “Gage said I was going to marry him.” I roll my eyes at the absurdity.
Logan’s smile drops from his face like a stone. His eyes widen and he looks right through me, dazed.
“So it must be true,” he says.
“I’m not marrying Gage,” I say, flatly. “I thought it was funny. Brielle thinks maybe he has a crush on me.”
“He does.” He’s still gazing out into nowhere, right through my skull.
“Anyway, I’m not into him,” I pause trying to wake him from his stupor with a wave of my hand, “I’m into you.”
He snaps out of his trance and his lips pick up a slight curve.
“I’m into you.” He comes in soft with a string of silent kisses, then heads into something deeper we can both bite into.
I love kissing Logan. Kissing Logan at the Falls of Virtue is like stepping into a fairytale. Suddenly I’m transported to a land with dragons and villains. Of course, I’m the princess, which in turn makes Logan the perfect prince.
He pulls back, bouncing one soft kiss off the tip of my nose.
“You up for a swim, princess?”
“I don’t have my bathing suit.” I give a wry smile. I hate when I forget he can hear me, and I have a feeling I know what’s coming.
“Swim in your underwear, or without. Your choice.”
“I don’t have a towel.” It races out of me. Besides, I’m not sure if I’m up for the big fleshy reveal.
“I have a few in the truck for emergencies.”
“Does this qualify as an emergency?”
“It’s the only one I know of.” His face fills with devilish intent. “I’ll stay in my boxers.” He holds up his hand like a boy scout.
The thought of Logan stripping down to his skivvies makes me weak—makes me writhe inside intense with pleasure. This can’t be good. Nothing good is going to come of this, I can feel it.
“Sure.” I walk around the truck and take off my sweater. I happen to have on my bright pink bra with the rhinestone jewel inset in the middle, which practically demands to be seen.
I go to peel off my jeans, and for the life of me I can’t remember what underwear I’m wearing.
Oh please, God, don’t let them be white mamas. I have my fair share of granny panties no thanks to my mom’s desire to keep me amply supplied, and once in a while I’ll put them on. If that’s today I’m going to have to seriously reconsider this whole idea. I tug past my hips only to reveal with great delight a pair of yellow lace boy shorts, which is great because they cover a multitude of shaving issues.
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A light tap ripples across the hood of the truck.
I traipse back around and find Logan standing there in all his celestial glory, plus boxers.
Heat rushes to my face as I feel him take me in. Per square inch I’m wearing the exact amount of clothing I’ve worn a million times before to the beach—technically more if you count the G-string my mother has no clue about.
He takes my hand and pulls me into a careful kiss. I can feel the warmth of his body—his bare skin against mine. It feels sinful and perfectly right at the very same time.
“You think the water’s cold?” I say pushing him back gently before things go too far.
“I hope so.”
We hold hands and dive in together off a small ledge near the center of the lake. The icy bite of the water feels like it has the ability to skin me alive. We might as well be swimming in arctic springs it’s so freaking cold. My skin goes numb from the shock of it—feels thick as a rubber wetsuit.
Logan and I dive under each of the three falls, stealing secret kisses that seem to last an eternity beneath each one.
There’s no way I would ever become Gage’s anything. Logan has me totally and completely. This is something that surpasses the length of years, the ladder of time. We’re building something eternal. I can feel it.
Something dark glints to my right, a shadow of something moving in the evergreen, then I see it.
The raven.
All afternoon I wonder what it means.
16
Mixed
It rains the entire next day. Brielle finishes up her shift at six and invites Drake and me down to the bowling alley to play a few rounds.
After paying for shoes and two games, I’m drained of nearly every penny of my Christmas money from last year.
“I’ll give you a refund if you want.” Logan has already offered to give back my money, twice.
“I’m not here to rob you.” Although, I’m not above taking advantage of him in other ways. A naughty smile glides across my face.
Celestra: Books 1-2 Page 6
