Stop it. Stop the guilt. But it hits me again, smacking my face and my heart. Over and over I see the dying girl. I see Adam’s tired face.
The waitress returns with two empty chipped mugs and a stainless-steel coffee pot. Adam and I both reach for it at the same time, our fingers touching, sending electricity sparking through my veins.
“You go ahead,” he says jerking his hand back as if the idea of touching me is repelling. I fill my mug and return the pot to the middle of the table. I swirl sugar into my coffee while Adam fills his. An unrelenting ache grows inside me, hollowing me out, emptying me.
“Adam, I—” He looks up from his coffee and raises his eyebrows. There’s a hardness to his face that hurts me inside. What I wouldn’t give to see his crooked grin right now? Or his dimples? Or softness in his gaze? “Adam, is everything okay?”
He stares at me. For a minute or two. A hard, calculating stare. Then he opens his mouth, but the waitress stands over us before anything can come out. She sets a plate in front of Adam piled with soft, steaming pancakes.
For a moment I flash to Mark. Pancakes and syrup and my mother crying. I’d forgotten about her—forgotten to worry about her lately.
Oh, why did I come? Because I wanted to help this angry guy in front of me who won’t even look at me? Who barely talks to me?
Adam shovels down the food, chewing bite after bite as if he needs to keep his mouth full. Maybe he does. Maybe if he stops, he’s afraid he’ll have to answer me.
The waitress reappears before the pancakes disappear. She stands over us, tapping her nails on the table. “Uh yeah, is your name Adam Knight?" Adam stops chewing, alarm flashing in his eyes. She continues. "There’s a phone call for you up front. Says it's your dad and that it's mandatory that he speak to you."
"You’ve got the wrong person. That’s not me."
"Yeah, he said you’d say that. So, I’m supposed to tell you Sage's life depends on it. Look, I don't know what's going on here and what you're involved in. Don’t make me call the cops."
"No, don’t do that," Adam stands and looks to me. "C'mon," he says to me.
"Uh yeah," The waitress bites her lip. "That’s not gonna work. I shouldn’t be letting you back there…I ain’t risking it for two of you."
"I'll be fine right here with my coffee." I lift my mug to him, and he raises a wary eyebrow. "Nothing’s going to happen. Really. I don't need a babysitter."
His eyes could melt the ice during the coldest week of winter. He shakes his head at me, but he turns and follows the waitress. I sip coffee while I watch them round the corner to where the front counter is. Somebody slips into the seat across from me, and I nearly spit a mouthful of coffee when I face the blond hair and gray eyes.
Him again.
“Tell me wh—” I start to say, but he shakes his head and presses his hand to his lips.
“Shh. You guys are in danger. You need to go back to Star Harbor.”
“I don’t even know who you are. Adam doesn’t know who you are.” I steal a shaky glance towards the front of the restaurant wanting—rather needing— Adam to appear.
“I’m a friend,” he says. “You can trust me.”
“Yeah. You keep saying that. But really who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Adam’s using way too much of the Nexus power to keep you guys safe. Haven’t you noticed how crabby he’s getting?”
“Yeah, but he said he’s okay.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Believe it. Don’t. But he is using them and it’s not working too well. They’re here, following you. You won’t make it to Nevada. Tell him he needs to go back to Star Harbor. Convince him.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to,” he says. “Do you want Adam to die? Do you want to die?”
“He needs to find his brother. Or he’ll have to leave. He’ll…” I turn away from him. Should I be telling him this? How does he know so much? He says he’s a friend, but Adam doesn’t seem to think he is. And I should be trusting Adam.
“No, he doesn’t have to leave. That’s all a load of crap. And if he keeps believing it, he’ll end up dead. Go back to Star Harbor and I’ll help him.”
“Help?”
“Adam wants to find his brother. I know how to do that. But not til he goes back to Star Harbor. Here take this.” He leans across the table and presses a card underneath my fingertips. A sizzle of heat crackles and zips through me. Who is this guy? “Call me when you’re ready for my help. But don’t tell Adam about this or about me. I mean it. Breathe a word about me and you’re all on your own sweetheart.”
“Call you? What? Why can’t I tell Adam?” But he is gone and Adam slides into the booth, shaking his head. I shove the card into my pocket.
“That was really strange,” he says.
“What?”
“The phone call was completely random, turns out he thought I was somebody else. And he made no sense.” He shakes his head. “Something’s not right about this, Sage. We need to go.”
“Okay.”
“And no stopping. I don’t care if you’re hungry or about to piss your pants.” His jaw jerks as he speaks and rises from the booth. The stranger’s words run through my mind. Adam’s using way too much of the Nexus power to keep you guys safe. The sweat, the flushed skin, the moodiness.
He starts to walk away, but I call his name. “Adam?”
He stops abruptly and spins towards me. “What?”
“Are you sure you’re not overdoing it with the Nexus?”
He releases a gust of air and crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I really don’t have time for this.”
“Adam, please. Just answer me. Are you?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll meet you in the car.” He turns and walks away. I remain at the table for another moment, watching him walk away. My heart aches, longing for him to turn around, to give me the dimpled smile he’s given me thousands of times.
What is happening with us?
Outside the window, he climbs into the car and leans his head against the steering wheel. He is so tired, so not Adam. He’s lying to me. And it hurts.
I should tell him about the stranger and the card. I should tell him everything, but as I stand up pressing my hands on the table to steady my wobbly legs, I know I won’t. Despite the faraway voice in my head screaming I should tell him, all I can think as I push through the diner door is how good it feels that he’s not the only one hiding something.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We start seeing signs for the Nevada border around 11 p.m. Adam rubs his face, flexes his arms and yawns. I lean against the window staring into the dark desert wishing I was out there. Adam and I haven’t shared a word in hours. I keep thinking of the stranger with the gray eyes. You won’t make it to Nevada. You won’t make it to Nevada. You won’t make it to Nevada.
He is right about Adam using the Nexus too much. I suspected it long before I heard the words in the restaurant. This means he may be right about Nevada too, but I can’t find the courage to talk Adam into turning around.
Adam is anxious, fiddling with the radio, tapping his fingers on the wheel, rolling the window down and back up again. I mull over ways to bring up the subject, while staring silently at the passing mountains and rocks outlined in the moonlight. Craggy rocks, gray and black, jutting and rolling and flying by.
They start to slow—we start to slow. I turn to Adam.
The car brakes, and Adam pulls onto the shoulder and shifts into park. For several breathless moments, we are frozen in the dark car, him staring straight ahead and me staring at him.
“Adam?” I break the silence of the car, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls open the door and climbs out leaving me alone. The car shakes as other cars whiz by, and Adam crosses in front of the hood, stepping off the shoulder and into the gravel and shrub on the side of the road. He stands there, hands in his pockets, staring at the mountains of rock, and the moon and the sky
full of stars.
I don’t hesitate. I’m out of the car and next to him, shifting from foot to foot and looking for what he’s looking for. Maybe I should tell him about the stranger.
“What is it? Are you okay? Is it the Nexus?”
“No, I’m okay.” He turns his back to me. His stiff shoulders, the tight muscles in his neck. Once again, he’s keeping secrets. I explode inside, a fire erupting through my veins.
“No you're not. And you're being a jerk,” I yell. “A jerk. And I think I know why, but you keep lying to me about it.”
He doesn’t turn around.
“Fine. Just stand there and keep lying about it. You’re the one who asked me to come on this trip so I would see that everything’s still the same with us. That we’re still best friends.” My voice grows louder, screaming and burning through the night air. “Yeah, I see how it is. Everything about us is a big, fat lie.”
“Did you hear me? Why can’t you tell me the truth?” I’m shrieking and tears drip from my cheeks.
He turns to me, biting his lip. His eyes are shiny in the moonlight, almost as if they’re full of unshed tears. They’re soft and angry at the same time. Hints of the Adam I love sneaking through, trying to find their way back to me, but it makes me angrier and angrier. I kick dirt in his direction.
He turns away and then back to me. He shifts and looks down at the ground, circling the toe of his sneaker in the gravel. Another car races by, and the gust of wind it leaves in its wake twists the curls in his hair.
“You want truth.” He looks up at me. “Yes. I’m using the Nexus too much. Yes, it’s been making me sick, but I’ve been using it nonstop since we left Star Harbor…since I know…I know without it, my dad will find us or our enemies will find us. You don’t realize how many people out there want the Nexus. There’s the Nexians, who’ve you had the pleasure of meeting and they certainly want their little weapon back. And there’s the Perseidians, who’d rather not go back to Perseida, but want to use the Nexus to take over Earth and start over here. Not to mention the humans—the conspiracy theorists, the crackpots who want to prove they’re not so crazy, the American government who knows way more about aliens than they’re admitting. They’re all looking for the Nexus and for me. But I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you any of that because I know you and how guilty you would feel if I told you. You’d blame yourself because we’re driving instead of flying.”
“Adam—” I say, but he holds up a hand.
“You’d blame yourself when it’s my fault. I should’ve known better.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he says. “I know you, Sage. I know your favorite color is orange, and your birthday is February 4th, and you were born in Flagstaff. I know you prefer grape jelly over strawberry and turkey over ham. I know your dad died in a plane crash, and you’re afraid to fly.”
“Adam, stop.”
“No, I’m so damn selfish. Don’t you see? Dragging you out here. You nearly died and it’s all my fault.”
“No.” My voice is shaky but steady. “No, you don’t get to say that.” More cars fly by, rocking the air around us and blowing my hair into my eyes. I blink and shuffle, shrugging my hands in and out of my pockets. Adam stares at me as if he doesn’t know what to say next. He looks down, and my gaze drifts to the highway following the ribbon of tail lights. We are in Arizona, the place I called home until I was nine, and I stand inches from the boy I’d been telling my secrets to for half my life, but I had never felt so far from everything familiar.
I should tell him about the warnings from the restaurant. I should tell him we should go home. That we’ll find his brother if we do. I should tell him about the card in my pocket. I should tell him he’s still a jerk. But in his pale face and tired eyes and the glistening drops on the top of his cheeks, I see Adam, my best friend. I see the smile and the dimples and the way he looks at me as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Even if it’s not really there right now, I still see it. My heart sings, quiet and deep within me. It still sings, for this boy standing across from me on this desert road.
“Adam, why are we here, really?” I hug my chest so tight air drains from my lungs.
“I don’t know. I wanted to find a way to stay here with you…but now it seems wrong. It’s selfish of me.” His voice lowers, and shadows cross his face. “It’s selfish of me to love you this much.”
“Love me?” My throat is dry, and my hands sweaty as they hug my trembling body. My heart hammers as I reach for his hand, weaving my fingers between his and gently pulling until he’s facing me. His watery blue eyes lock with mine, and I shake as I fight off the waves of nausea and fear. “You love me?”
He nods.
“Well then, I guess I’m selfish too. For loving you. For not wanting to lose you.” My heart beats too fast for my body to handle and the road spins around me. Through the haze, Adam squeezes my hand and pulls me closer. His arms wrap around me and his fingers lift my chin upwards, grazing my cheek. I shiver as fireflies dance through my veins. He traces my lips, and I close my eyes as his mouth meets mine. His kiss is like cotton candy and spearmint gum with a trace of maple syrup from the pancakes. And I’m spinning like I did as a little girl with a new dress, dancing across the night sky, touching the stars.
We are in harmony again, a perfect blend of notes playing together, and I’m part of him and he’s part of me.
And I want to stay here forever. On this Arizona highway. With this boy.
Like an explosion of gunshots through the quiet woods, we’re suddenly knocked out of key. He gasps and pulls away, bending at the waist.
“Adam? Are you okay,” I crouch down.
He’s breathing heavy and he wipes his face on his sleeve. He’s red and shiny and….
“Adam…Adam…what’s happening?” I shake and reach for him, but there’s nothing there but air and pulsing blue light. “Adam?”
Suddenly he’s there again. “Sage get out of here, now.” He pushes the keys into my hand. “Run,” he says. “Run for the car, get in and drive.” He’s bending over and groaning again.
“Adam—”
“Run. Go now.” Sweat trails across his face, and he’s pushing me away in wild gestures before sliding to his knees. He’s fading again. Shimmering. Glowing. Disappearing. He’s like a reflection in the lake on a sunny day…and then he is the lake. Just light and blue. Nothing of Adam.
Everything in me rattles and shakes and screams. What is going on? What is happening to him? Is this how he dies? You won’t make it to Nevada. The stranger knew…maybe he can help. I slip the card and my phone from my pocket, and dial.
It doesn’t even ring. Instead I get a voicemail.
“This is Zane. Leave a message.”
“Zane?” I scream. “How the hell are you any help if you don’t answer?” I crumple the card in my fingers and throw it at the road. The blue air still shimmers where Adam knelt. I crouch down beside it.
“Adam, no. Please come back to me.” Like a bad picture on a TV, he fades in and out and back in.
“They want me. Not you…go.” His words fade before he does.
“No,” I say, wiping a strand of soaked hair from his face. “We go together.” He opens his mouth, but he begins to shimmer again.
“Adam,” I scream but he’s gone again. “Adam, please. Come back. We got to go—”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Fear trickles through my veins when I recognize the gruff voice. Brian Holmes. He’s surrounded by the men from the restaurant. Black and flinty eyes, all on me. They inch closer, circling around me and the patch of blue light until we are trapped on all sides. Brian walks in my direction, his black boots grinding through the dust until they stop inches from me. He steps between me and the blue light, and leans into my face, his lips curling into a nasty smile.
“Ahhh, Sage, we meet again.” He touches my face, his rough thumb tracking circles along my chin. I cough at the sickly sweet smell rolling off him. Adam, o
r what was Adam, still faintly glows behind him. Maybe he doesn’t see it. I don’t know what’s happening to Adam, but I pray silently in my mind. Stay in the light, just until they leave.
“You’re wasting your time,” I lie. “Adam’s not here. He went to Vegas without me.”
He drops his fingers. “Really?” He turns around and reaches into the blue light. Suddenly Adam appears on his knees. He coughs and falls to all fours. I rush to him and wrap my hands around his sweat-soaked shoulders. He glances at me with dull, tired eyes before curling into ball on the ground. I look up at Brian, a dark shadow hovering over us.
“Guess you were wrong,” Brian gives me a chilling smile. “Well boys, looks like we’ve got what we want.”
I hold onto Adam, my fingers curled tightly around his bicep. Where is the stranger with the blond hair and gray eyes now? I search for him, but we’re surrounded in darkness.
This time, I am on my own.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I’m trapped on the back bench of a silver van with Adam sprawled across the seat, his head resting in my lap. Two of the men sit in the seat in front of us, and one is wedged in the space behind our seat and the back door. They sit like metal rods, with expressionless faces and stony stares. Every now and then they glance back at us, their dark gazes sending creepy shivers along my spine. Broad shoulders block my view of the front of the car, but over the head of the one behind us, I can see the road we leave behind. It’s no longer the paved stretch of freeway, but rather a strip of tire markings plowing through the desert. I brush Adam’s hair from his forehead and try not to think of where we’re going, of what lies at the end of this road we are bumping along.
I should have made him tell me more about himself. About these powers. About what it means when he shimmers and fades and becomes blue light. Maybe if I knew something, anything. I check his wrist. There is still a faint, but steady rhythm that tells me he is with me.
One Starry Knight: A Scifi Alien Love Story (The Starry Knight Saga Book 1) Page 13
