“Hola, Maryah,” Harmony said.
I almost gasped. She never greeted me with more than a head nod if she greeted me at all. I expected her to join the dark side with Nathan and Carson and never speak to me again. If Harmony were in that balloon she probably would have cheered on Nathan in his mission to kill me.
Faith backed down the driveway. “How are you doing after the, you know, balloon escapade?”
“Fine. I’m just exhausted.” My dream about Nathan left me tossing and turning all night. Why would I imagine him to be so sweet after he tried to kill me? And since when did my mental dictionary include words like sojourn? Faith loved Shakespeare, so maybe she’d know what it meant. “Faith, do you know what sojourn means?”
“Sure!” she answered, keeping her eyes on the road. Harmony on the other hand, whipped her head around to look at me. I was grateful for my sunglasses. With both of our eyes covered, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could’ve been.
“It means a short visit,” Faith explained. “A temporary stay.”
“Got it.” I pretended to examine my fingernails while Harmony continued glaring at me.
Faith elaborated. “There are theories that a soul completes many sojourns throughout its existence. That we come back life after life to learn and experience things.”
“Like reincarnation?” I asked.
We had just stopped at a red light. Faith put the car in park and unfastened her seatbelt. She turned in her seat, crawled up onto her knees, and stared at me over her headrest. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
Faith’s craziness rarely fazed me, but this was weird even for her. “Faith, focus on the road.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know like it’s a ridiculous concept and it’s impossible, or like it’s a humongous world and anything is possible?”
“I mean I don’t know what is or isn’t possible.” The light turned green and people honked behind us. “The light is green!”
Harmony snapped her head back around and mumbled something, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear.
Faith fastened her seatbelt while horns blasted behind us. “That’s a good answer. You’re only seventeen. How could you know the answer to such a mystical question? It’s a sign of wisdom that you admit you don’t know. It’s your heartfelt answer, and as long as you follow your heart, you can never be wrong.”
“You’re only seventeen, do you believe in reincarnation?” I asked mockingly.
“Yes.” Faith and Harmony’s answer echoed through the car.
I stared at the back of Harmony’s black and purple head. I expected this kind of belief in an improbable theory from Faith, but Harmony’s certainty surprised me.
Faith looked at me in her rear-view mirror again. “Want to learn about it? I’d be happy to share what I know!”
“Sure,” I answered, not caring if we ever discussed the topic again.
“It’s a virtuous trait to be open to new things. There is always more to learn.” Faith could go from childlike to savant in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was seventeen.
After we parked and got out of the car, Faith locked arms with me. “After school, I’ll come over and we can do a research and retain session!”
“I don’t think it’s vital that I decide if I believe in reincarnation today.”
“No better time than the present. But we do have school to get through, so in this case, there’s no better time than three o’clock.”
“Great, can’t wait,” I groaned. Once Faith had her mind set on something, nothing could stop her.
∞
River smiled as I approached English class. “How was your weekend?” he asked.
“Painful.”
He flexed his calf muscle. “Mine too.”
I glanced down at the new addition to his tattoos—a black guitar with purple and orange flames surrounding it. “Your mom must be so proud.”
He squinted at me while visibly biting his tongue. For the first time ever he didn’t have a comeback.
I laughed and walked into our classroom, plopping into my seat and dreading another week of school. River yanked on my ponytail before stealthily sliding a note into my binder. When Ms. Barby turned to write on the blackboard, I opened it.
M,
Today is really tough for me. Let’s hang out after school. I’ll give you a ride home later.
Peace, River
Why would today be tough for River? He didn’t care about his classes. His hair and clothes looked perfect as usual, and looks and music seemed to be his only major concerns in life. Still, River wanted to talk to me about his problems? At least I’d be hanging out with someone outside of Nathan’s family circle—someone who wouldn’t want to discuss the balloon incident.
The bell rang and I met Faith at the door to tell her about hanging out with River after school.
"We had plans,” she moaned.
“What plans?”
She pulled out a book from her bag that was by someone named Edgar Cayce. “Reincarnation education, remember?”
She thought that constituted an official plan?
“This is important,” I whispered. “I think River’s upset about something.”
Faith glanced over my shoulder to River’s desk. “Hmph. I didn’t know Shady McShaderton had emotions.”
“Don’t be mean.”
She shoved the book on top of my binder. “I’m teasing—sort of. Okay, do what you have to do, but I’m coming over at eight. You aren’t ditching me that easily.” She poked my chin before turning and bopping down the hall.
“Do you have permission to come out and play?” River snarled from behind me.
I turned and glared at him. “Be nice.”
“She started it,” he bantered in a childish voice then merged into the hallway full of traffic. “Come on. I couldn’t be more done with this place.”
“You want to leave right now?”
“I wanted to leave an hour ago.”
“You mean play hooky?”
He stopped and leaned against a locker. “You sound so retro when you say it like that, but yes, play hooky.”
I had never skipped a class before, not without a note or a legitimate excuse. I looked around, spotting a couple of teachers monitoring the hallway. “What if we get caught?”
“We won’t. Come on, I’m really stressed about April and being here isn’t helping.”
April. I hadn’t called her all weekend. She was going through so much and like a crappy friend, I hadn’t thought about her one time because of all the drama in Albuquerque. “Is she okay?”
“I’ll tell you when we get out of here. We’ve got to act right now.” River grabbed my hand and positioned us directly behind the biggest—and widest—kid in school. He kept us blocked from the view of any teachers until we ducked out a side door. We ran for the parking lot.
I climbed into River’s Jaguar, my heart pounding and my nerves frazzled. All I could think about was how many ways we could get busted.
“Badass car, huh?” River shut his door and the engine purred to life.
A King of Hearts air freshener swung from the rear view mirror making the car reek of lemons. The leather seats hugged my body, and the windows were tinted so dark no one would be able to see us inside. “It’s gorgeous.”
He flashed his standard cocky grin and squealed his tires as we pulled out of the lot. Way to be inconspicuous.
“Why is today so tough? Is everything all right with April?”
“It’s the anniversary of my mother’s death.”
The shock prevented me from saying anything appropriate. I knew River’s father died, but I assumed his mom was still alive.
“See, told you I knew how you felt,” he snickered.
“I thought you meant because of your dad.”
“Yeah, him too. I know how hard it is to lose your parents.”
/>
“River, I’m so sorry.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No, but—”
“So why are you apologizing?”
We were quiet for a while then I remembered River was an only child. “Who do you live with?”
“My Uncle Eric plays backup dad.”
“That’s good,” I muttered, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t want to ask how either of his parents died. I hated discussing my family’s death.
“It’s nice to have someone who knows how I feel.” River connected his iPod and hard rock songs blasted through the speakers.
We turned onto Dry Creek Road—a part of town I’d never been to—and I shouted over the music. “Isn’t one of the vortexes out here?”
He lowered the volume and groaned. “Boynton Canyon is nearby. Locals claim it’s a vortex, but I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo.”
“Nice neighborhood,” I said as we turned into a gated community.
“Would you expect any less from me?” Sometimes River’s cockiness annoyed me, but most of the time I found it amusing.
We parked beside a huge pick-up truck covered in dirt. “Who owns Bigfoot?”
“That’s my play vehicle.”
“You have two cars?”
“Why have one when you can have two?”
“Of course, what was I thinking?” I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the car.
River’s house had black leather couches and tables made of glass and marble, but very few decorations or artwork. The smell of bleach and cleaning products reminded me of my awful stay in the hospital.
“Where’s your uncle?”
“He doesn’t actually live here. He travels a lot, mainly Europe, and doesn’t stay here much.”
“You live here by yourself?” River had to be the luckiest kid I knew.
“Sort of, I have a housekeeper and chef that live here—my uncle’s way of keeping tabs on me.”
Lucky and spoiled. “So the Jag? Is that your Uncle’s?”
“No, it’s mine. I traded my old one in last winter.”
“Your old one? You’re seventeen. How old could it have been?”
“Uncle Eric bought me my first car when I was fourteen.”
“Fourteen?”
“He isn’t big on laws and rules. Besides, that’s when my dad died. He didn’t want me depending on my servants to drive me around.”
“Servant sounds so demeaning.”
“If the shoe fits,” he shrugged. What a pompous thing to say. Sometimes I wondered how April and him ever ended up together. She seemed too sweet to go for his type.
“So, where are they?”
“They stay in their wing of the house, unless I ask them for something. Eightball is around here somewhere.”
“Eightball?”
“My bulldog.” He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. “Want one?”
“What? No,” I replied, stunned that he casually drank at home. But since he didn’t have adults telling him what to do, it was probably normal for him. “Why’d you name him Eightball?”
River smiled, popping the cap off his bottle. “Eight ball of cocaine.”
My face must have twisted with disgust because he almost spit out his beer, trying not to laugh. “I’m kidding. Hang on, you’ll see why. Eightball!”
Paws tapped along the tile floors in another room and a wrinkled round body waddled around the corner. His head was mostly all black except for a white circle around one of his eyes.
“Ah, I get it. He does look like an eight ball.” I squatted down and clapped my hands but Eightball just snorted and lay on the floor. “He’s so cute.” I tried petting him, but he jumped up and trotted away.
“He’s scared of people. I think he might’ve been abused as a pup.”
“Aw, poor thing.”
River plopped down on a leather sofa and turned on the television. I sat on the other couch and focused on the huge flat screen, but River paused the show.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” He moved to the end of his sofa and snatched my hat off of my head.
I stood up and grabbed for it, but he put it between his legs, so I sat back down. “Like what?”
“Like a secret nobody else knows.”
“My life isn’t interesting enough to have secrets.”
“Everyone has secrets,” he argued.
No way was I telling him about my psychic visions of Nathan or what happened in New Mexico. And Krista was the only person who knew I blamed myself for my family being killed, but I wanted to keep it that way. River sensed my hesitation.
“Ha! There is something. I can tell.”
I thought of another secret and looked away. “You’ll think I’m mental.”
“I doubt it. I’ve got some twisted thoughts of my own.”
My focus darted between him and the television. Would he freak out like Nathan did, or would he understand because he lost his parents too? April told me he’s the easiest person to talk to, that he never judges and always knows the right thing to say. She knew him better than I did, so I took a chance. “Sometimes,” I confessed quietly, “I think about killing myself, so I can be with my family again.”
“Seriously?” He looked more impressed than surprised.
“I could never go through with it, but I think about it a lot.”
“Hmm,” he mused, nodding his head. “Now it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Why your eyes look like that.”
“Like what?” I protectively blinked, thinking about my dream when Anthony called my eyes lusterless.
“Like they’re, I don’t know…haunted. Makes you seem mysterious.” He took another swig of beer. “What do you want to know about me?”
Mysterious. I hoped that was a good thing. At least he didn’t tell me I was crazy or try to grant my death wish like Nut Job Nathan. “What do you want to tell me?”
He stared at the ceiling like he was choosing from a long list of possibilities. “Some girl at school has a crush on me.”
“All the girls have a crush on you.”
He laughed louder than normal. “You think?”
“Oh please, they swoon over you.”
“You don’t.”
“I’m friends with your girlfriend. Plus, you’re not my type.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who’s your type?”
“I’m not sure.” I smoothed down the ends of my hair. “But not you.”
We both laughed. Sometimes I enjoyed putting River in his place.
“Whatever,” he said. “You’d so date me.” His conceit never ceased to amaze me. He finished his beer and let out an obnoxious burp. “Can I trust you with a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t think I’m into April anymore, but with her mom being so sick I’d feel like a douche breaking up with her.”
I did not want to know that secret. April would be heartbroken if she knew, and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her. Would that make me a horrible friend for knowing and keeping my mouth shut? “You’re right. You can’t break up with her. I’m sure things will get better once she’s not so busy helping her mom.”
“I don’t know. Her mom could be this way for months, maybe longer.” He leaned back, sinking into the couch. “We never have fun together anymore.”
Guilt kicked in. Was this his idea of fun? Playing hooky and drinking beer while we were supposed to be in class? I couldn’t picture April doing that stuff, but then again I couldn’t picture me doing it either. “I’m sure it’s hard for her to have fun when she’s so worried about her mom.”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced. “Just don’t say anything. It’ll be our secret.”
“Only if you swear not to tell anyone we skipped class today.” Faith would never let me hear the end of it.
“Deal.” And just that easily, we became the keepers of each other’s secrets.
HELPING TH
E HELPLESS
Nathaniel
“Nathaaannnn!” Amber’s high-pitched scream rattled the house. “Help!”
I instantly envisioned her hazel eyes and traversed to her. She was standing alone on the back deck, nervously bouncing the ends of her scarf against her curly hair.
“What’s wrong?” I scanned the dark backyard. “Is someone here?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “He made me do it.”
She’d barely spoken the last word when I heard Dylan’s voice. “Nathan, please—”
I threw my hands over my ears and traversed to the garage. Snickering, I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted Dylan. Forget it. I’m not trying the glasses.
It had become a game between us. Dylan trying to catch me so he could persuade me into testing Carson’s glasses, and me traversing out of hearing range before he could use his ability to make me try them. Mainly, I enjoyed the friendly competition of outsmarting each other, but I also didn’t want to look through Carson’s glasses and see the dark place where Maryah’s star used to be. Some delusional part of me figured if I didn’t confirm it wasn’t there, then Shiloh’s theory might stand a chance of being true.
“You will not traverse,” Dylan said.
Bollocks.
The garage light came on and Dylan strutted out from behind Amber’s car. “Ha. Got you.”
I couldn’t traverse—no matter how badly I wanted to. That’s the thing about Dylan’s ability. If he gives an order, there’s no choice but to follow it. “You were just out back.”
“No,” he grinned smugly. “My tape recorded voice was out back. I took a lucky guess that you’d flee to the garage.”
I walked toward the door that led inside the house.
Dylan stepped in front of me. “You will—”
“Dylan, enough. Carson already said they don’t work.”
“He designed a new pair and made some adjustments.” He reached up on a shelf and handed me glasses similar to the other ones, except they felt lighter. The automatic garage door opened. “Put them on and look at the sky.”
Of all the things he could use his ability for, he chose trivial nonsense like this. I didn’t want to follow his order, but my hands were already sliding the glasses over my eyes. I walked out of the garage and looked up.
Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily) Page 14
