"I think so too."
"Amry, can I ask you something? But promise you won't get mad." Ophelia sat up.
"Sure." Amry rolled to her side.
"The way you were with Zachary in the cafeteria, you think it could be anger that you are still feeling toward Jeffrey?"
Amry lay there looking past Ophelia before answering.
"He hurt me more than I want to admit, so yes, you could be right. I know you think I dated a lot when I was still a breather, but the truth is, I didn't. In fact, I only had one boyfriend and he was it for me. We spent all our free time together, making plans for the future. I wanted to go to UCLA. John was going to apply there too, so we could be together." Amry's eyes grew more doleful with each word.
"His name was, John?"
"Yup. John SanSeverino. I would have been Mrs. Amry SanSeverino one day. But I guess the stars had other plans."
Ophelia's chest ached. Amry's green eyes were always bright, welcoming. Not today. The more she spoke of John, the darker they grew. She had no idea the hidden pain her friend kept to herself.
"How come you never told me about him?" Ophelia's eyes widened.
"If you think losing Jeffrey was upsetting, it was nothing compared to letting go of John. I was ripped from him by the evil demon called fate. We had our entire lives to live, saying good-bye to him was the hardest thing I've ever done. And now I wonder, who's taking my place? Is he married? Does he have kids? Christ, it's been nearly forty years. He's what, fifty-seven now. He might even have grandchildren. Or worse, what if he died already. I don't know that either. He never came here, so if he did, he was complete. And what does that mean for us. He no longer missed me? Loved me?" Amry let go and fell to the ground, stopping inches before the grass and landing on her feet.
Ophelia followed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's okay, Lia. I should have told you about him a long time ago. It's just easier not to think about it."
"I understand. There are days when I am really happy and then, Haven's memory creeps in and I fall into a depression. You keep them tucked away deep in your heart." Ophelia stroked Amry's soft brown locks.
Amry reached out and hugged her best friend.
"It's different for you. We're gonna find Haven, and when we do, you can both take the light and join your parents." Amry let go.
"Come on, let's go to our room. We have about thirty minutes to next class and there's something I want to show you." Amry's eyes twinkled.
The girls shut the door to their door room and settled on their beds. Amry closed her eyes and extended her hand toward a blank wall next to Ophelia's side of the room.
"Watch." Amry stiffened her back.
Colors appeared, frolicking across the blank canvas, and taking shape. Ophelia's jaw dropped as she watched the pictures of Amry's life unfold in front of her. Amry as a baby, then around ten or eleven, and finally, a sixteen-year-old girl. A boy stood beside her, his arms around her shoulders as he nuzzled her cheek.
"How are you doing this?" Ophelia stuttered.
"You're not the only one with tricks, Lia."
"Is that John?"
Amry opened her eyes. If tears could form, they'd be streaming down her cheeks. But no longer among the breathing, her eyes held all the emotion through their color. And hers were the darkest green Ophelia had ever seen them.
"Yes. This is right before I got sick. We were going to a concert, the band was Jethro Tull. He surprised me for my birthday. It was both the best, and one of the worst nights of my life."
"How come?" Ophelia sat watching Amry’s movie playing out on her wall.
"Because it was the night, I first knew something was wrong. The concert was great, we had a blast. After it was over, we decide to go grab a burger. We were both starving. We ordered our food, and I had to use the bathroom. I had about three large sodas at the concert, and there was no waiting. I remember going to the restroom, washing my hands and then nothing. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in an ambulance. John was by my side. He told me I had passed out on my way back to the booth. They couldn't wake me up and someone called for help." Amry studied the reel of her life.
"Here, you see. We're at the hospital. That's my mom and dad. My two sisters had to wait in the lobby with my grandmother. They were too young to come up to the room. Now wait for it—my mom goes into hysterics after they told us the news. Apparently, a blood test revealed the cancer. This is the part where they explained about an oncologist, MRI's and all the junk I was about to do. John was a rock. He was so sure I'd beat it. He never wavered. Not even at the end, he always had hope."
"Oh god, Amry. I had no idea you had to deal with all of this." Ophelia wiped her eyes. The tears were not there, but the pain was.
"Lia, it's no different than any other kid here. We all had lives; we were all ripped away from the people we loved before we even got a chance to really live. My story is no more heartbreaking than yours."
"What is this?" Ophelia leaned forward.
"Oh. That's Amsterdam, Thailand, and Italy. My parents were determined to pack the world into whatever time I had. So, before I got really sick and could no longer travel, they took me everywhere they could. And they paid for John, too. The treatment wasn't working, so I made the choice. No more wasted days of nausea and body pain. If I could have a few good months with everyone, then I was gonna take it. And they made sure it was the best time of my life. It couldn't replace living a life with the guy I loved, but they tried." Amry's lip quivered. "Look, this is my last moment with John."
Ophelia fought to hold back the heaviness in her chest. Straining to swallow, she pushed to get past the knot in her throat before gasping. Lying at deaths door, her best friend's eyes fluttered as she tried to keep them focused on John. Her pale, gray skin was like tissue paper covering the small skeleton of a life once filled with brilliance. He held her hand over his heart, tears streaming wildly down his cheeks and dripping from his chin, as he told her over and over how much he loved her. The words brushed across Ophelia's ears. His passion filling each syllable for his dying love.
Amry's parents were on the other side of the bed, her mother barely able to stand. Clinging to her husband's firm arm with one hand, she stroked her daughter's hair with the other.
As the last breath left Amry's body, John professed their eternal bond and that he would wait to be with her again. Her last vision was of his head nestled on her chest.
The pictures stopped.
Amry lay down on her bed and began humming.
"What's that music you're humming?" Ophelia asked.
"You’re my best friend by Queen. John really liked it, I guess we both did. We were gonna play it at our wedding someday.” She was silent for a moment before continuing. “All these years, and I still miss him so much. I know we were too young for him to keep his promise to wait for me. He had a whole world in front of him. But maybe, this song may still play from time to time, and he thinks of me. Remembers who we were and the love we shared." Amry rolled over and got up.
"He does," Ophelia murmured.
"He does what?"
"Still thinks of you. I know it." Ophelia slowly blinked.
Amry smiled.
"We'd better go. You know my tardiness record; Kyle isn't the only ass that'll be grass."
After they parted ways, Ophelia found herself in front of her English class with no memory of getting there. She couldn’t focus on anything else but Amry. The love she had and lost, the life she led in a short time. She had always known her best friend was remarkable, now she knew to what extent. All these years of helping Ophelia, Amry never once revealed her own sadness. She quietly held her pain inside. If, no, when, she finds Haven, they can't take the light until Amry is ready. No matter how long it takes, they're not leaving her behind.
5
Ophelia Meet Alex
Ophelia's newfound mystery weighed heavy on her hope. If this guy were Alex, how could he help he
r find Haven? Why him? And how were they going to do it? He's in the living dimension, or so it seemed. And why was she the only one who could see him? The rest of the class thought she had gone more insane than usual. The questions fired like bullets, shredding her brain, if she had a brain.
The hours turned into days and the absence of new sightings began to take their toll. Ophelia retreated into the darkness. Skipping classes and spending more and more time in her room. Until the dream.
Opening the window to the courtyard below, she scanned the students for a familiar face. Amry was sitting at a picnic table reading her favorite book, a time travel romance, The Dusk Chronicles. Ophelia recognized it from the cover. Hoping to catch her friend before first period, Ophelia quickly showered, dressed, and made it there just as Amry was getting up.
"Hey, I wondered when you were gonna wake up." Amry placed a bookmark on the page and closed it.
"Yeah. I know." Ophelia groaned, "I wish I knew why I still do this. Don't you guys ever get tired?"
"Nope. We're dead. How are we possibly gonna get tired? I think it's a psychological thing." Amry curled her lip.
Amry's father was a child psychologist, and often practiced what he preached. His doting daughter, a sponge for anything her dad said, was intuitive.
"Really? You're gonna pull the psych card on me?" Ophelia frowned.
"Psych card? Wow. You're starting to sound like a real twentieth century girl." Amry grinned.
"I am a real twentieth century girl."
"Barely. I don't think the ten years you spent in the beginning of the century had much influence on your current choice of verbiage."
"Oh no?"
"Nope. That's all me." Amry lightly punched Ophelia in the shoulder. "On a more serious note, you've been really scaring me lately. I thought you had plummeted back down to that dreaded place you were in when I first got here. I was planning an intervention. The gang was ready. We had spells and everything." Amry grinned. "But here you are. This makes me happy and yet question, what's changed?" Amry pressed her forehead to Ophelia's.
"I had another dream with Haven, or vision, whatever it is. I was able to hear her clearly; she was definitely shouting out the name Alex—Alex McKenna. There was a picture of The Academy of Souls on the wall, and she kept pointing to it. And then another picture of a school that resembled the Academy, but different." Ophelia pulled back.
"Different how?" Amry's eyes widened.
"Like modern. Maybe more your time. It was and it wasn't our school. It made no sense, but she kept pointing over and over, so I think it's a major clue. When I woke up, the darkness was gone. I felt, stronger."
"Maybe it's time to take this to Headmaster Abernathy. He might be able to help us.”
"Not yet. I'd like to give it a few more days. I want to know, I do. But I have this feeling I'm going to see Alex very soon."
"Oh, we're calling him Alex, now?" Amry furrowed her brow.
"I think it's him, and I'm going with that for now." Ophelia gazed at the other students.
"Okay, Lia. We'll wait. I gotta head out. Calculus is about to start, and I can't be late. One more tardy and it's straight to detention. Who would have ever thought being dead still meant being on time?
"I think the Headmaster is just trying to give us a feeling of normalcy. You know, by maintaining the routine.”
“Hmmm, maybe you’re right. But it’s still a drag.”
“Well, I need to go too. I promised our resident bully I'd meet him at the library to help with the math homework." Ophelia rolled her eyes.
"Hmm. Getting pretty chummy with the bad boy?" Amry goaded her.
"What? No way. We're supposed to watch him. That's what I'm doing," Ophelia huffed.
"Those who protest too loudly..." Amry teased.
"Cut it out. Go already, you're gonna be late." Ophelia nudged her friend.
As Amry floated down the courtyard, Ophelia tried to imagine what it would be like to take the light. Not knowing if she'd ever see her friends again tugged at her heart. But reuniting with Haven, and her parents, was everything.
The library was on the other side of the campus and gliding would get her there in a snap, but the day glowed with droplets of sunshine on the dew of the new grass, and Ophelia preferred to walk in the beauty. She drenched in the colors of the landscape and smiled, death's little pleasures.
Zachary was already there when she arrived. He sat with his book in his lap, feet up on the table and eyes closed.
Great, she thought. This is gonna be fun—not.
"My dear Ophelia, I see you have no comprehension of time."
"How did you know it was me? Your eyes are closed."
"Your scent." Zachary plopped his feet down and sat up.
"What scent? You can smell me?"
"You are the only one here that has one. And yes, I can smell you. But so can everyone else."
Ophelia was dumbfounded. None of her friends ever mentioned it to her.
"I thought none of you could smell any longer?" Ophelia scanned the room.
"We cannot. A side effect I am not happy with. I miss the lovely aroma of roasting pork as the fat drips off the side, sizzling to the ground. It is only you that tickles our nose."
Ophelia inched closer and sat down. She would talk to her friends later.
"Never mind. Open your book," she said authoritatively.
Zachary opened his book and then sat back and closed his eyes again.
"If you're not going to look at the book, how are you gonna learn anything?" Ophelia snapped.
"I thought you would read, and I shall learn," Zachary replied with a snarky tone.
"Forget it. I'm not here to do it for you, participate or I leave."
Pushing up in his chair, he dropped the book on the table and opened it.
Ophelia pursed her lips.
"What has you bothered now?" he huffed.
"Nothing. Learn."
When they had gone through all the equations in the chapter, and Zachary had a glimmer of a handle on the answers, Ophelia announced they were finished. She had been exhausted from the dream of Haven, and now working with Zachary just drained her even more.
She figured he didn't mind, because he closed the book immediately and sliced through the heavy oak door within seconds.
Fanning the pages of the calculus book, she whiffed in the scent of paper and ink one more time. Unaware of the curious glances from the students around her, Ophelia halfheartedly headed for the exit.
First period was science. Luckily, it was only two doors away from the library, and Ophelia's favorite class. After sitting down, she searched for her friends. Bethany and Kyle never sat in the same seat. Playing musical chairs seem to tickle them more than the teacher, Mrs. Santucci. Mrs. S., for short, kept her shoulder length, red locks neatly pulled back in a low bun. Her striking dark eyes were a contrast to her cupid round face. Standing at only five feet two inches, she still managed to tower over anyone who challenged her authority. She had been a teacher in life, so it was a natural transition for her at the Academy. And, although patience was a virtue she mastered, Ophelia's friends tested her relentlessly. Today, Kyle was at the back of the class by one of the three large windows cut out of the west wall.
"Hey, why don't you come up here by me?" Ophelia waved to her friend. "There's two seats open."
"Nah. You come back here. I like it by the window, saved you a seat." Kyle pointed to the open chair.
Ophelia was at odds. She wanted to sit by her friends, but she also didn't want to upset Mrs. S. by changing seats.
"Ophelia, come on."
"Ahem. Go on Miss Wetherton," A voice urged from the front of the class.
Ophelia whipped her head around and Mrs. S. was seated at her desk. The teacher gestured with a nod of her chin, and a smile, that it was okay for Ophelia to move. Mouthing the words thank you, Ophelia quietly gathered her things. With her eyes on the floor, she glided to the back of the room. She hated drawing
attention to herself, especially from a teacher.
"I dread the way you tease her every day. Mrs. S. is so sweet, can't you just sit in your assigned seats?" Ophelia furrowed her brow.
"What fun is that?" Kyle smirked.
"Speaking of two, where is Bethany?" Ophelia glanced at the empty seat.
"I was about to ask if you had seen her. She didn't meet me this morning. It's not like her." Kyle raised a brow.
"That is odd."
Ophelia gazed out the floor to ceiling window to the outside world. The sky was a deep blue. Charcoal clouds quickly filled the crevices usually reserved for hues of orange and gold. The atmosphere had changed since this morning. She shivered.
"Knock that off," Kyle ordered.
"What did I do?" Ophelia widened her eyes.
"The shivering. It's ridiculous. I swear girl, there's something seriously wrong with you."
"I don't know why it bothers you so much. I thought you said you were past all that.
"I did. But damn, it's still strange. You're not a breather but not a total spirit, what are you? I think I only want answers." He poked her arm with his pen.
"Ouch!" Ophelia rubbed her arm.
"See. Right there, that's what I'm talking about. How the in the hell did you feel that?"
Ophelia turned her head away from him. Life was life, and death was... well, death was eternal. This shouldn't be happening and yet, here she was engaged in another pointless conversation about the oddities that were, Ophelia Wetherton.
"I'm sorry, Ophelia. You know my mouth and brain don't always work well together. I can be a real air head." Kyle reached for her hand, but she retracted.
Ophelia looked up at the ceiling and swiveled around with her back to Kyle. She shook her head in agreement. It was the only way she could answer him without revealing how he had pierced her heart. She should be used to Kyle's juvenile sense of humor by now. But some days it wore her down.
She tried to block out the painful sadness that gripped her. Mrs. S.’s, words faded, leaving a resounding blah, blah, blah. Once again, her mind drifted to her chance meeting with the mystery boy she had resolved to call, Alex. Tracing the moment in her mind, she struggled to look for any clue that would help her reach him again. Preoccupied, she hadn't noticed the breeze humming within the confines of the classroom. It was the chatter of female voices that broke her thought and finally got her attention.
Alex McKenna & the Academy of Souls Page 5
