by Rose Garcia
CHAPTER EIGHT
Trent drove me home in silence. My mind flooded with his grandmother’s every word. She couldn’t see my aura, and she wanted me to join them for Christmas mass—where the Pures go. The fact that she had used that word couldn’t have been a coincidence. Could it? Then there was Trent…the normal, hot, and popular guy that liked me, but whenever I was with him, Farrell kept popping up in my head. If Trent knew the truth about how messed up I was, he’d be grateful to be without me.
When we got to my house, I opened the door to hop out when Trent put his hand on my knee. "Hey, if you don’t have any plans for Christmas, you’re more than welcome to join me and my grandmother. That is, if you want."
I closed the door, glad to stay in his warm car just a little longer. "Okay, we’ll see," I said. "And Trent, there’s something you should know about me." I wanted to give him some sort of explanation about my life to help him understand me a little. He deserved something. "Moving here has been real hard on me. Like my world has turned upside down. It’s like I’m all alone, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I mean, I don’t even have an aura. That should tell you something about how screwed up I am."
Trent took my hand. "I’m sorry, Dominique. I didn’t know you were going through such a hard time. But you’re not alone. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you’ve got me. And the whole aura thing, well, it’s nothing. Forget about it. Sometimes an aura can’t be seen."
I didn’t believe him about the aura thing, but I did believe that he wanted to be there for me. How could he be so nice? If only I could be normal. Things between us would be different.
"Is there anything else?" he asked.
I thought of being in danger, of the black mist that came after me, of the way Farrell invaded my mind, and now my absent aura. "I just don’t want to hurt you, that's all."
He brought his hand to my chin and turned my face to him. "Hurt is a part of life. I know hurt, Dominique. But you have to know that it’s harder to play it safe than it is to live."
I stared into his deep blue eyes. He did know hurt. He had lost both his parents and then his grandfather. That had to be hard. And here he was supporting himself and his grandmother.
Life wasn’t fair. Not for him, and definitely not for me.
Maybe not for anybody.
