Heal Me (A Touched Trilogy Book 2)

by Angela Fristoe

  “What about the project?” he asked. I’d shown him I was willing to contribute; now I had to keep that going and running away wasn’t going to help.

  “Can you meet tomorrow after school?” I asked, struggling to hide my yawn.

  “I’m semi-grounded right now. It’s why I have to leave right after class. My folks freak if I’m even a little late.”

  “I don’t mind doing it here. If that would be okay with your parents?”

  “Yeah, sure.” His doubtful tone made me suspect that I hadn’t really convinced him of anything and he wasn’t counting on me to show. “During English tomorrow we can try to find a film student to help out.”

  “Why don’t I ask Nathan?”

  “Chloe told me yesterday he was already working on her and Dylan’s project,” he said.

  Great. I’d hoped Chloe would have taken pity on me and given me a fair chance to work with Nathan, but no, she probably saw my passing out the day before as her opportunity to finally be the better student. And really, it’s not like I was the better English student. Chloe typically kicked my butt in that subject. Which is why it was doubly unfair of her to swipe Nathan, but I wasn’t going to bad mouth my sister to a practical stranger and tell Micah that.

  “That’s good. He and Dylan are pretty good friends.” I straightened my shirt and then smoothed a hand over my hair. It felt frizzier than normal where it framed my face. I must have been sweating at some point during my black out.

  “Isn’t Dylan your boyfriend?” Micah stood over me with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked bigger than before.

  I hesitated a moment, then shrugged. It seemed like enough of a non-committal response that it would cover me just in case he spoke to Dylan before I did.

  Walking slowly to the door, I tried not to touch anything that seemed like it might be even remotely connected to whatever had set off Micah. I didn’t need any more connection to him than I was already getting, especially if we’d be working together for the next few weeks.

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” he asked when I fumbled with my shoes.

  “Yes, or actually, I’m okay to walk. I didn’t drive.”

  “No car, huh?”

  “No, it’s just…” How to say Dad no longer trusted me not to pass out at any given moment so he’d confiscated my license and the spare keys I had for Chloe and Phoebe’s cars? “My dad thinks I would feel better if I got more fresh air.”

  “Wouldn’t more sleep help?” Immediately after the sarcastic words, his face showed just a hint of a flush. “Sorry.”

  I smiled and wished I could have given some witty reply like Phoebe or Chloe would have, but only the truth came to me. One small step for me. One giant leap for our project. Right?

  “I know it looks like I’m not with it in class, but I’ve had some things going on that have been tiring me out. I really will do my share. I want to,” I said and braced myself along the wall in order to get my shoes tied.

  “Yeah, well, sorry if I was a bit harsh, but I really need to keep my GPA up and I’m a bit of a control freak. I hate having to let go of things.”

  One thing we had in common. Maybe his need for control was what had kept the transfer of his feelings from happening.

  “So, can we start over?” I asked, feeling hopeful. “Maybe pretend that we just met, and you’ve never seen me fall asleep in class?”

  One side of his mouth tipped up. “If you can pretend that I never …”

  “Acted like a complete ass?”

  “I was going to say acted like the genius that I am, but ass will do.” He held out my backpack.

  I giggled and grabbed my bag from him, swaying a little again.

  “Lily, I think you should at least sit down for a few minutes. Let me get you a drink. Maybe it’s low blood sugar or something.”

  I tried to protest, but he was a lot bigger than I was and, with a single shove from him, I practically flew across the room towards the couch. He left me to get myself seated properly.

  “No soda, please,” I called after him. While he was gone, I tried to pull myself together. I was still light headed and weak from the transfer.

  He came back a minute later with a tall glass of orange juice. I took it from him and gulped down a couple giant sips before putting it on a square coaster on the coffee table.

  “Feel better?” he asked as he sat next to me. Seating was limited, as the only other chair in the room was a rocking chair covered with a huge stack of papers.

  “Yes. I’m so sorry. I just...” I shrugged, a pleasant and guilty warmth spreading through me as his knee brushed against mine. There was that lack of transfer again.

  “So...” He seemed to search for something to say. “No soda, huh?”

  “It aggravates my migraines, so I try and avoid it as much as possible.”

  “Can’t you get medication or something for that?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to tell him I avoided anyone or thing associated with the medical profession as much as possible.

  “I try to not eat or drink anything that triggers them. I used to get them all the time, but I haven’t had one in nearly a year. I’m hoping I’m one of the lucky few that outgrows them.” I paused and took in a deep breath. The dizziness and disorientation I’d had after fainting was almost gone, but I didn’t feel the pressing need to leave. Micah was gradually losing his prickishness and he actually seemed like he could be a decent guy.

  “So, are you liking it here in Beachgrove?” I asked again, wondering if I would get a more detailed answer this time around.

  “I suppose. Apart from the girls around here. There’s one who just won’t stop trying to boss me around.” He gave me a smirk and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “You must be used to them just whacking you for your stupidity.” I really hoped that didn’t come across as flirty as it sounded.

  “Maybe, but I’m hoping that this one does prove me wrong. For the sake of my GPA, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  It felt surreal to be sitting on the couch with Micah, joking when only a few hours ago I’d been ready to bite his head off. I tried to think of the last time I’d joked with anyone, and realized it had been way to long. The state of being I was in around Dylan, or after seeing him, or even before seeing him, was not the kind for joking.

  “The weather here is a hell of a lot better at least,” he said. “It’s constantly pissing rain up in Seattle. Or at least it seems like it.”

  He leaned past me to grab the remote control and, trying not to notice how good he smelled, I picked up my glass of OJ. As I took a sip, the shaking of my hand caused the juice to slosh around and splash onto my face. I put the glass down and tried to wipe it off before he witnessed my humiliation.

  “You missed some,” he said and leaned in even closer and reached his hand up to catch a drop from my cheek.

  His fingers lingered and I glanced up at him. Our gazes collided, only inches apart. I struggled to breathe, my body waiting for something. His hand slide along my cheek, around my head, and then stilled. We froze, staring at each other, waiting to see who would close the distance first. Every cell in my body tightened and I wanted to wrap myself around him. I could feel warmth pulsing from him along with his desire. It would be so easy to press my lips to his, to feel emotions and sensations that belonged only to me even as I was able to feel his pulsing between us. His breath passed over my skin. I blinked and he started to move.

  “Dylan.” The name slipped from my lips. I moved back, my hand automatically going to my mouth. “I shouldn’t...”

  “Right.”

  “I should go,” I said, getting up as if the couch were about to swallow me whole, or as if he were.

  “Right.” He stood up, and shoved his hands in his pockets, bunching up his shoulders. He had nice shoulders.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” I asked, wishing he would say anything other than that one draw out word.


  “Uh, thanks?” He raised one eyebrow and cracked a devilish smile. I blushed when a giggle escaped my mouth. “I’m real flattered and all that you can’t resist my overabundance of good looks and charm, but I’m not looking for a new already attached girlfriend. Besides I’m not even sure you’re old enough to drive.”

  He was joking and I wanted to hug him for it, but that probably wouldn’t be the best way to put it behind us.

  About halfway home, I slapped my forehead in complete embarrassment. I had giggled. Multiple times. Like a little school girl caught in her first crush. Not that I was crushing on Micah. He was hot, but he had been a total jerk and I couldn’t completely forget that. Still there was potential there. He’d been nice after I passed out and he was obviously willing not to tell Dylan about our near kiss, he’d possibly even forget that it ever happened. Maybe he wasn’t a complete write off - as a friend.

  Chapter 4

  Is it wrong not to love the person you’re with?

  I still wasn’t sure what the answer to that question was, but I couldn’t be with Dylan any more, even if I did love him.

  He walked across the cafeteria, searching for me. I hid in the back corner where the entire football team sheltered me from view. I leaned to the side, looking around a particularly beefy linebacker to watch Dylan’s progress. He looked determined to find me.

  For five days, I successfully avoided him. At least in person. I couldn’t ignore his phone calls. I tried the day after I went to Micah’s place, but turning off my cell had only driven my sisters and Dad crazy when the home phone began ringing off the hook. Dad and Phoebe had given me sympathetic looks, understanding how unhappy I was and how hard it was for me to confront him and make the break. Chloe, on the other hand, was convinced Dylan and I would work things out, so she didn’t get why I was reluctant to talk to him.

  Each day I had space from him made me more determined to see that it was permanent. Every part of me had been so wrapped up in him for years now. It was like taking a breath of fresh air after running through a burning building. Painful yes, but a signal to my body that I was still alive. I was still living and needing to clear myself of him.

  Now was the time. A few months ago, I would have done it when we were alone. Who was I kidding? A few months ago, I never would have even considered breaking up with him. Now, with his wild mood swings, I wouldn’t risk being alone when I did it. I stood up and waved my arm at him, called his name in case he still couldn’t see me, then sat back down and rubbed my hands nervously along my thighs.

  “What are you doing over here?” he asked, dropping his tray onto the table. My fingers twitched at the irritation he emitted.

  “I wanted some place where we could talk,” I said.

  My eyes wandered around the cafeteria, until they settled on Phoebe’s table. Nathan sat beside her surrounded by friends. I had only Dylan. For four years I’d cut myself off from anyone else. I’d socialized with his friends, I’d even called them friends, but they weren’t really. He had been my only friend and I hadn’t minded, because he’d been everything to me. Now I only wanted to escape him.

  He popped open a can of soda and took a sip of the bubbles. “I wanted to ask Andrew to cover me this weekend, so we could hang out, maybe go see the new exhibit at the museum.”

  “Um…” I picked up my fork and pushed my food around the tray, melding neon orange mac and cheese with yellow mashed potatoes. The disgusting mess on my plate looked as churned and twisted as my stomach felt.

  “What does that mean?” he asked. There was no mistaking his tone. I didn’t need the heat in my fingers to tell me he was upset.

  “I…” Oh, God. What was I supposed to say? I fell back on the oldest and lamest excuse. “I need some space.”

  My fork repeatedly tapped the edge of my tray, waiting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even react. He simply sat there as if I’d told him I was going to buy a new pair of shoes. I could almost see the slow realization of my words come to him. A slight frown creased his lips and forehead, the narrowing of his eyes, his fist clenched around his plastic fork.

  “What the hell does that mean?” His voice rose and some of the football team glanced over their shoulders. I sunk into my chair a bit. Being surrounded by people was not the same as drawing their attention. I’d wanted safety, not an audience.

  “I just think…we need some time apart.” Next I was going to tell him it was me, not him. At least Phoebe wouldn’t be there to call me a liar. Then again, I the one who had almost kissed someone else. Maybe it was me.

  “Don’t do this, Lily. Please. I’m begging you.” That fast he was on the verge of tears and I was left wondering if the anger had ever really been there. “Why are you doing this?”

  It was harder than I’d imagined. My nose tingled and tears welled up in my eyes. I began to waiver, but stopped myself, hardening my heart.

  “I have to. I can’t do this anymore, Dylan. Being with you isn’t good for me,” I said, voice quivering. “There’s something going on with you. I don’t know what it is, I don’t even know if you know, but it’s hurting you and every time you touch me, you suck everything right out of me. I’ve been so exhausted I’m sleeping through my classes. I passed out the other day, after healing you three times. Dad almost took me to the hospital.”

  “Lily, I love you. Please. I need you.” Tears filled his eyes as he continued to beg me. I blocked the words out, until he reached across the table and took my hand. Desperation and emptiness filled me. Not the same emptiness I’d felt with Micah. That had been a lack of transference. This was a lack of something else. Something was missing from Dylan and he was desperate for me to fill it.

  I pulled my hand from his, noticing his quickly drying eyes and semi-smile. He’d be fine for a while now and I could do it. It was the best thing for both of us, right? Make it clear and quick.

  “It’s because I’ve been working every weekend, right? I’ll call in sick on Friday. I was already gonna get Andrew to cover on Saturday, but we can spend the entire weekend together,” he said with a relaxed smile on his face. The urgent begging absent from not only his voice, but from his very demeanor as well. “We could go to the beach house. It’ll be awesome. Just the two of us.”

  “No, Dylan.”

  “Dinner, then. We’ll go to that sushi restaurant you love. Please.” There was a teasing to his voice now and I wondered if I hadn’t made things worse by taking away the hurt. Having him upset was better than him not believing I really meant what I was saying.

  “No. No sushi, no beach house, no hanging out. I need to be alone for a while.”

  “And then what? We’ll try again?”

  “No. Then I’ll find someone who actually wants to be with me and not just because I can make them feel good for a little while.” I stood up and started gathering my things.

  “Someone?” His content feeling didn’t last long. Suspicion and anger filtered through. “Or Micah?”

  A hint of guilt crept into my heated cheeks. I definitely found Micah attractive and I was without a doubt guilty of thinking things I shouldn’t have, but I never thought Dylan would even suspect it. Had I done something to make him suspect how my skin had tingled so deliciously when Micah touched my cheek, or that I’d even looked at Micah other than the annoying ass he was?

  The truth. I hadn’t cheated. I hadn’t even kissed Micah. I didn’t have any fantasies about being with him and Micah sure hadn’t acted like he was pining for me. There was nothing between us. The truth.

  “Micah is my partner for English. That’s it.”

  “Something I should know about?” Micah’s voice came from behind me and I groaned at his poor timing.

  “No.” Dylan and I answered at the same time.

  Micah placed his bagged lunch next to my tray and sat down. Dylan glared and I gave Micah a look which I hoped said leave, but he was either not taking the hint, or he was choosing to ignore it.

  “Dude, can’t you see
we’re having a private conversation?” Dylan said, leaning over the table a bit toward Micah.

  “Dude, I need to talk to my partner about something.” There was that superior attitude he’d been lacking the past few days. I hadn’t missed it.

  “Leave. Please, Micah? I’ll talk to you after school,” I said, wanting him to go so I could get my conversation with Dylan over with.

  “Nah, I’d rather talk to you right now. You know how busy I am after school.” Yeah, busy being grounded. He gave me a look back to say he wasn’t leaving, tipping his head toward Dylan. Dylan shoved his tray away and it clattered against mine. People were staring now. Not just the football team, but also others who could see through the human maze the players created. Humiliated, I sank down into my chair, for once wishing I were even smaller. This was not how I’d envisioned things going.

  “Dude, are you deaf? My girlfriend told you to leave.”

  “Dude, you sure she’s your girlfriend?”

  Dylan surged across the table, furiously trying to grab a hold of Micah with one hand, while the other pulled back in threat of a punch. It was bad enough watching Dylan miss, but Micah simply leaned his chair back so he was only inches out of reach and laughed in Dylan’s face. Unable to watch any longer, I grabbed Dylan’s arm and held on just long enough to calm him. He flopped into his chair, completely fine with everything happening. Micah sat upright, his chair banging loudly as the back legs hit the ground, looking curiously from me to Dylan. My fingers trembled at the lingering heat of his fury and I struggled to keep myself from sliding sideways from the chair.

  “What the hell...?” Micah muttered, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

  I chose to ignore him, wishing I’d just done a transfer in the first place. Instead, I focused on Dylan and for a moment an image of his thirteen-year-old self flashed over his face and my heart broke for the boy he had been and for the boy I wished he still were.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to Dylan, then grabbed my tray and left the table. Dumping my uneaten food in the trash can on my way out of the cafeteria, I headed for a quiet place.