The Halo Chronicles: The Guardian

by Carey Corp

  My body trembles as his words sink in. Though I try to focus on the declaration of love, it’s the bleakness of our future that takes root. “This can’t last.”

  Gabriel squeezes my hand tightly. “Don’t think that way. This never should’ve happened in the first place. From all I know, it can’t happen. This is a gift and I plan to cherish every precious moment I have with you.”

  I feel the same, but can’t make my voice work because of the lump—the fear of inevitable separation—lodged in my throat.

  “Alexia.” He pulls me back into his arms and begins to sway. “Tonight is about us. Worrying about tomorrow will only rob us of today. So tell me you love me—and dance with me. Please.”

  Such a simple request.

  I want to give him this night. Tipping my face up to nuzzle his amazing-smelling neck, I murmur my love over and over, punctuating my feelings with soft kisses against his warm skin.

  My first—maybe only—dance…

  Such a typical thing for most kids, dancing serves as a reminder, my time being normal has an expiration date. It reads summer.

  As I sway in my Gabriel’s arms, a memory long forgotten floats to the center of my consciousness. Derry and I—not yet teenagers—standing on the cracked cement playground of The Children’s Home, awkwardly holding one another and moving to a radio in the distance. Dancing lessons. Derry’s idea, not mine.

  Just once. He wanted to learn and kept at me until I gave in. Although the swaying of our twelve-year-old innocence had none of the electric intensity of tonight, it was still my first. Derry was my—

  “I love you.” Gabriel returns me to the present and the purpose of this night.

  Pushing thoughts of Derry away, I commit myself to being here—with the boy I love—in whatever time we’ve got left. Besides, dancing practice with my best friend doesn’t count. And if I asked Derry—although I won’t because he’d probably laugh at me—I’m sure he probably wouldn’t even remember.

  So for the rest of the night, I dance.

  *

  When Jonah drops Gabriel and me off at the Fosters’ later, the house is dark expect for the burning porch light. Reluctant to let go of the magical evening, and since no one seems to be waiting up, I suggest we sit and look at the stars. Stargazing turns swiftly into kissing, and for the next hour the only stars we see are in one another’s eyes.

  There’s a finality to our contact, as if we’ll be ripped apart at any second, but neither of us speaks it aloud. Instead, we taste and touch and feel until our only choices are to end the night or do more than kiss. Clinging to Gabriel’s chest, I hear the pounding of his heart and feel the vibrations trembling through his body. His breath that comes in short, ragged bursts against my hair. If he wanted to… asked me for more… in this moment I would deny him nothing. All he has to do is ask and I’d give him everything. I’m his.

  Instead, he pulls an uneven breath into his lungs and exhales unsteadily. “You should probably go inside now, Alexia.”

  “Okay.” Although I agree, I don’t move, not an inch. Do I want him to change his mind about sending me away? Am I ready for what comes next? What’s he thinking right now?

  As if in answer to my question, Gabriel stands, lifting me with him. Walking me to the Fosters’ red door, he covers my face in kisses so tender my heart wants to break. “Tonight has been perfection,” he whispers, before turning the knob. “There will be time for everything else.” He gently nudges me inside. Through the thick glass I watch his abstract form retreat, relieved yet disappointed he has strength enough for both of us to stop.

  There will be time…

  Is that a clue? Does that mean Gabriel knows more about how long he’ll be with me than he can say? We still have time.

  The adrenaline coursing through my body, mixing with my conflicting emotions, makes sleep impossible, so I step into the darkened living room. Deep in thought, I jump when I realize I’m not alone. Derry’s sitting on the couch staring into space. Although his face is covered in shadow, I can sense his frown. Giving my eyes time to adjust, I stand in the dark. My best friend stays disconcertingly silent until I’m forced to ask, “Waiting up for me?”

  “Are you going to yell at me if I say yes?” He’s wearing a plain green t-shirt with Return of the Jedi flannel bottoms and Yoda slippers. Despite the clothes, he looks less childlike and more grown than I’ve ever seen him.

  “Not tonight.” Stepping out of my shoes, I self-consciously smooth my dress down over my hips and stomach. “But I’d like to know why.”

  “Why what?” His voice is low, lacking its usual animation and his jaw tightens with repressed emotion. His halo sparks then wanes as we dance around truths.

  “Why check up on me at the dance? Why wait here in the dark?”

  Shrugging, he proclaims, “Couldn’t go to bed until you were home safe.”

  “Well, I am.” For I moment I wait for the stranger on the couch to snap out of his contrary mood and turn back into my best friend. But Derry doesn’t move or even acknowledge he’s heard me. He remains a statue. Something about the atmosphere around him, the flatness of his saffron halo, threatens to consume the tiny sliver of happiness that is my lifeline. Desperate to escape from the fatalistic turn of the evening, I make my exit. “Okay then, goodnight.”

  “Lexi?” His wooden voice causes a chill to shiver its way up my spine. I pause, but don’t turn around to face him. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes.” Even as I answer him honestly, I feel bereft— like I’ve let him down.

  “Oh.”

  In the right universe, I’d sit beside him, sharing the precious—often hilarious—details of my night, but in this weird galaxy far, far away I just want to escape. The last thing I hear before my successful retreat is his quiet voice pleading, “Just be careful.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment after lunch today.” Although she’s sitting in her usual spot, Becke’s about as far away from Jonah as physically possible. She catches my gaze. “Just a routine follow-up because of the mono.”

  “It’s good to go and get things checked out, just to be sure.” My smile is tight. Considering the conversation at the dance, for Becke to be seeing a doctor, she must be getting worse. I watch as she gathers up her things and dodges Jonah’s kiss so it skims her cheek instead of landing on her lips. She doesn’t look back as she hurries out of the cafeteria.

  Once she’s gone, Jonah sighs. “I’ve been asking her to go see a doctor for the past week. She’s not herself.” His halo thickens like fog, dissipating with his next exhale. “I’ve been so worried.”

  “I’m sure everything will be just fine. You’ll see.” Although I find the appropriate words to reassure him, I don’t miss the sharp frowns on Derry and Gabriel’s faces as they stare down at the scarred table.

  The next morning, I intercept Becke in the hall and steer her into the girls’ bathroom. “Well?”

  She’s worse than ever, kind of hazy and lethargic. “The doctor gave me some antidepressants. Some antipsychotics too. I don’t like taking them. They make me feel numb, and thirsty.” Her feeble halo flickers in agreement.

  Seeing Becke so blunted isn’t at all what I had in mind when I suggested getting help. “Did they run any tests? Or recommend any therapy?”

  “No. He said what I’ve got is a textbook case of depression that can be regulated with medicine.”

  “Maybe you should get a second opinion.”

  “Dr. Horowitz has a medical degree from Harvard. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. Besides, I slept last night—at least I think I did—I kind of just drifted away into nothing.”

  As she stares off into space, I can’t help but be disturbed by the vacancy in her expression. This girl isn’t my vivacious, dolphin-loving friend. What stands before me is a shell. Slowly her face turns to mine and a single spark of life flickers then diminishes in her dull eyes. “What were we talking about again?”
r />   “Options other than the medication you’re on.”

  Her halo continues to sputter like doused fire. “I like the drugs, Alex. The drugs make it all go away…”

  On one of our first dates, Gabriel told me zombies weren’t real. After watching Becke shuffle through her morning classes in a stupor, I know this to be a lie. Not only do zombies exist, but they are soulless creatures devoid of the best attributes of humanity. And my friend has become one of them.

  Over lunch Becke rearranges her food but eats very little. When the bell rings, she stands—leaving her food in a heap—and starts to leave without a word to any of us. By the time Jonah has cleared her trash, she’s already in the hallway. Sprinting, he calls, “Babe, wait up.”

  Becke gives no indication of hearing until he catches up to her, sliding his hand automatically around her waist. She jerks away from him as if from an attacker. “Don’t you touch me!”

  The shock on Jonah’s face is raw and painful to watch. “Babe? Are you okay?”

  “Don’t—You—Touch—Me!”

  “Okay.” Jonah raises his hands, slowly, like he’s trying to placate a terrified animal. “Let’s go to class.”

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you? You told him to do those things to me, didn’t you? You make me sick!”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “I hate you!”

  As every set of eyes in the cafeteria watches the drama unfold with various degrees of shock and perverse pleasure, I step between them. It’s heart wrenching to look at Jonah, his face crumpled with devastation and shock. “Why don’t you let me take her to the nurse?” I suggest gently.

  “But—”

  Flanking Jonah’s sides, Gabriel and Derry lead the shell-shocked boy away. After he’s gone, I wait for the rest of the students to clear out before confronting Becke. She wraps her frail arms protectively around her waif-like midsection and squeezes her eyes shut as if trying to vanish from the school by sheer will.

  Gently I ask, “Can you walk to the nurse’s office?” Becke’s reply is a low unintelligible mumble. “What?”

  She’s so quiet I must strain to listen. “He raped me.”

  “Who?”

  “Jonah.” Her eyes snap open piercing me with the full horror of her accusation. “Jonah raped me!” With a final sputter her halo vanishes. In my heart, in my soul, I know she’s mistaken but the conviction on her face is so certain.

  “Are you sure?” I know Jonah and I have the benefit of seeing his halo. If he’d done what Becke was accusing him of his halo would show me. This I’m certain of, because my curse—my gift—doesn’t lie. “Because Jonah would never hurt you. He loves you.”

  Betrayal steals across her face as she directs her fury toward me. “You’re on his side! You helped him, didn’t you? You want him to hurt me again!” Stifling a sob with the back of her hand, she turns and begins to run down the hall. Chasing after, I follow her down the stairs. Once we reach the ground floor, I grab Becke’s arm to restrain her. It’s clear she needs more help, not antidepressants or other drugs, but real professional help.

  Becke stills as I plead with her to wait. For a split second, she looks at me imploringly, as if I have the answers she so desperately needs. Taking a compliant step in my direction, she swings her book bag with all of her might. I hear it whistle through the air seconds before impact as it smashes into my shoulder. The force knocks me to the ground and I lose my breath..

  When I come to my senses, I’m alone in the hall. Torn between following after Becke and addressing the concern of my friends, I sit undecidedly on the floor. If I go to class, what do I say to ease their concern? What can I say? But if I follow Becke, they’ll all come after us and the need to shield Jonah is too compelling. He can’t see her like she is right now—hear her terrible accusations.

  A noise just beyond the corner at the far end of the corridor helps me to make up my mind. Scrambling to my feet, I turn and head toward English.

  Gabriel, Derry, and Jonah stare holes into me as I slink into class late. There’s too much to say, so rather than meet their gazes, I stare resolutely at my shoes. As I take my seat, Mr. Creepy leers. “Where is Miss Finch?” he asks.

  “She went home sick. I was late because I was helping her.”

  “I see.” Thin lips tighten into a gray slash as his oily halo begins to slide around his body with increased activity. “Miss Grabovski, you will need to see me after school to make up the fifteen minutes you missed of my class.”

  I don’t answer, because there’s no way in hell I’m staying after. I’d rather have detention. I tell the boys as much as soon as we’re safely in the hallway alcove. Biting at his lip, Jonah demands, “How’s Becke?”

  Not wanting him to know about his girlfriend’s allegations, I phrase my words carefully. “I’m not sure. She hasn’t been sleeping well and her doctor thinks her illness might have triggered some depression. He put her on some medicine but I think she’s having a bad reaction to it or something.”

  The total shock on Jonah’s face tells me he had no clue what was really going on or how severe things are. Pushing his inky hair off his face, he frowns. “I’m going to go talk to her after school.”

  “No.” I lightly touch his arm, pleading, “Give her some space. Let me talk to her first.”

  Jonah’s halo darkens into a smoky film curling around him. Looking from me to Gabriel and then to Derry he asks, “Should I wait?” When they nod, he bites his lip again. “Okay, but only until tomorrow.”

  On the way home, I tell Gabriel and Derry the real story of what happened. When I get to Becke’s accusation, Derry’s head whips from side to side, a forceful manifestation of his disbelief. “Jonah? She said Jonah raped her?” I nod. “No way!”

  Gabriel squeezes my arm. “I don’t believe it either.”

  “The medication she’s on seems to be making her confused. I think we need to step in. Have an intervention or something. But who should we tell?”

  Derry’s guileless eyes are troubled, mirroring the helplessness I feel. “Let’s talk to Steven and Kate tonight and see what they suggest.”

  He’s right, of course. They’re exactly who we should turn to for help. When we get to the Fosters’, Derry goes inside to call Kate and prepare her for our discussion. Once we’re alone, Gabriel pulls me into his arms, holding on to me so tightly I think I might break a rib. But I don’t care. Clinging to him is the only thing that makes sense at the moment. His smell, his warmth, his love.

  “Are you okay, Alexia?”

  It feels so good to be surrounded by him. Inhaling deeply and then burrowing even closer as I exhale, I say, “Just a few bruises. I’ll live.”

  “And Becke?”

  “She’s bad. It’s like she’s having a breakdown or something.”

  Despite my gift, despite Gabriel’s angelic nature, despite even the steadfast love of her boyfriend, we’re powerless to end her suffering. All we can do is get her help, whether she wants it or not. And I wonder how she’ll feel about our interference, even with the best of intentions. Will it destroy our friendship?

  When Gabriel finally kisses me, there’s urgency in his touch. Considering what’s happening with our friends, it makes sense. As Jonah and Becke’s relationship falls apart, we’re reminded of our own destiny. Taking a breath, Gabriel presses his forehead to mine. “I love you, Alexia. I will love you forever!”

  And he means it. He is, after all, eternal.

  *

  When Kate arrives at five-thirty—with an instant dinner of pizza and salad—and Steven appears just minutes later, I’m more than ready to enlist their help. Over dinner, I tell them everything about Becke—the nightmares, the deteriorating behavior, the medication, the rape claim—all of it.

  As she listens, Kate’s warm chocolate eyes fill with concern. “I’m not an expert, but it sounds to me like something happened to her. Something horrible her conscious mind’s trying to shield her from. She needs
a second opinion and a therapist.”

  Although Steven’s distress has colored his face a deep red, his voice is controlled as he asks, “Are you sure that Jonah didn’t—”

  “No!” Derry and I respond simultaneously and emphatically.

  “What about this Mr. Abernathy?” Kate asks. “Are you certain he didn’t take advantage of her?”

  Shaking his head, Derry answers, “I wouldn’t put it past him—he gives me a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. But Becke said he dropped her off at 4:05. So he would’ve had less than ten minutes with her. And that was the only time she was alone with him.”

  Hastily, I add, “But I think he did take advantage of another student. Kendra Douglas. She never returned after the winter break. I heard she got pregnant and dropped out. It was rumored that a teacher was involved.”

  Steven stares at us, his features hard with the severity of the accusation. “Sexual misconduct is a very serious allegation to make against a teacher.”

  Derry nods, encouraging me to continue. “I know. And we’ve got no proof, just a general creeped-out impression. But my instincts tell me Mr. Abernathy’s a perv, and I trust them.”

  Slipping her hand over her husbands, Kate affirms, “We have instincts for a reason. Tomorrow after school we’ll talk to the principal—all of us—and enlist her help to talk to Becke’s parents.”

  Thankfulness wells up inside of me, making me want to cry. I’m thankful the Fosters believe me and are willing to shoulder my burden. Thankful for Derry, who trusted enough to suggest going to them in the first place. And especially thankful for Gabriel, who has stood in the gap between me and Mr. Creepy since the second day of school. My very own divinely appointed Greater Seraph.

  The next morning as we eat breakfast, Derry inquires, “I don’t suppose I could talk you into skipping school?”

  With everything going on, I can’t believe he’s asking me this. When I tell him as much he says, “I’ve got a bad feeling about today. I can’t explain it exactly, but I think you should stay home.”