by Abra Ebner
Jake had risen from his chair, chatting with the teacher. I gathered my things and threw my bag over my shoulder.
“So, Mr. Jackson, we’re going to the library,” Jake finished explaining as I arrived at his side.
Mr. Jackson smiled at us in a way that made me uncomfortable—as though Jake and I were a couple and he’d found it endearing. “Sure. I’m very anxious to see what my two best students come up with.” He gave us both an awkward pat on the shoulder.
Buttering him up to let us leave class and his supervision was easy, but the dreamy look in his eye was no less irritating. I conveyed that toward Jake, he shrugged.
At least it’s a way to get on his good side. If he thinks we’re dating, doing what we want will be easy, he explained.
I gave him laughter in return. Just as long as it’s not true. I challenged. I know your reputation.
I’d never hit on a taken girl.
I pressed my lips together. Yeah, right.
Jake lifted one brow. Is that an invitation?
I put one hand on my hip. Certainly not!
Mr. Jackson was grinning wider now, and I realized that to him, it looked as though Jake and I were gazing into each others eyes when we were really having a mental fight. I snorted and pushed Jake toward the door.
“Bye, Mr. Jackson!” I waved over my shoulder. The class watched us leave with jealousy written across their faces. As the door shut behind us, there was a rise of murmurs, kids wanting to be granted the chance to go to the library as well, but as expected, no one else followed.
Walking down the central hall, Jake’s slinky veiled light remained hidden, despite the shadowy lighting. A part of me was bummed, knowing now that his glasses were the one thing that hid it most. I’d thought about the light all night, finding that after my cold, late-night visitor, I couldn’t really fall back asleep. This was when I’d formulated my notions as to what made the light appear, such as lighting, and physical obstructions like the anti-reflective glasses. As I had lain there, unnerved and tired, I remember thinking that a small part of me craved its reappearance, just for its safety. How, though, could a blue light save me?
Jake nudged my arm. “So, where to?”
I shrugged. “Last period, so we could leave grounds all together if you want.”
Jake shrugged. “A part of me really likes it here. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s a break from the norm.”
I compulsively wrinkled my nose. “Why?” It came out disgruntled.
He chuckled. “I get to be someone else. I was never given the option of the life I live now, and…” His voice trailed off.
I considered where he was going with his words—he was getting personal.
“I mean, you know. I like to feel like I’m still who I was before, though I don’t even know who that was.”
“You’re probably no different, just sweaty.” I giggled.
He snorted. “I prefer glistening,” he corrected. “And I am different. I’m very different.”
“How?” I challenged. “I think that’s in your head.”
He stopped, spreading his arms. “This is not me. If I could be myself, I sure wouldn’t look like a geek. I’m handsome, but no one here knows that because of all the things I have to hide.”
I chuckled. “So you think you’re handsome? Cocky much?”
He dropped his hands, conveying an impartial look that didn’t disagree. “The worst part about being me, though, is all the rules.”
Just the mention of the word made me edgy. I hated rules, too.
“I can’t do anything without asking a group of elders first, and they’re so uptight it’s ridiculous. I’ll always have someone to answer to, like a parent. Look at it that way.” He slanted his head toward me and looked at me over his glasses. The silver reflection in his eyes caught the overhead lights—no blue veil. My light idea was true, too.
I pouted. “Just break a few rules then,” I said absently, distracted by the mental notes I was making about the light.
Jake released one sarcastic laugh. “I can’t just break a few, Emily. Though there are a few I’d love to. They’ll kill me, and I mean it. There’s no three-strikes-your-out in my world.”
I began to feel bothered, imagining myself as him. “I don’t envy you at all.”
He weaved into me, leaning against my shoulder. “Gee, thanks. That really helps.”
We’d arrived at the end of the hall, the parking lot outside. We stared at the freedom beyond, but I suppose to Jake it wasn’t freedom at all.
Jake pressed his lips together in thought. “Here, follow me.” He grabbed my arm, his hand burning hot against my bare skin.
He whipped me around and away from my freedom. Walking with determination, I couldn’t help but be dragged behind him. We made our way toward the library, a place I’d thought we were going to avoid. I never liked the library, and not just because of the fact that Jane loved it. The problem was that books spoke to me here, and as you can imagine, it was distracting. We walked in, the whispers lighting up my undiluted mind. If there was anytime I would falter and want a hit of Valium, it was now—here.
“Jake,” I cautioned. “I hate it here.”
He refused to allow me to wriggle free. “That’s because you can’t enjoy it for what it is. For years I’ve wanted to show you that this isn’t a place to get all worked up about.”
“What do you know about what I think?” I retorted. It was a stupid question.
He glared. Everything.
“Why did you watch me so closely?”
Jake stopped, releasing my arm. “Because it was entertaining to watch you flounder, and truthfully, there just aren’t very many mind readers left. Black Angels have taken them all and abused them for their powers. If it weren’t for Max, you’d be a goner, too.”
I angrily crossed my arms, refusing to look at him. “Whatever. That’s sadistic.”
He pinched my arm and I reeled out of my defensive pose. “Ouch! What was that for?” I was forced to look at him, and I froze. He’d removed his glasses and there it was. The veiled light had returned, the shadows of the overhead stacks inviting it out to play. My arms dropped limply to my sides, my body overcome with elation. I was being sucked into the feeling, hopelessly falling away from any anger I once felt.
Jake went about mindlessly thumbing through books. I was confused. He didn’t seem to notice this light at all, and though I thought that was what he was trying to show me, I quickly learned it wasn’t. Perhaps he didn’t know about it?
He pulled a book out and held it before me, perfectly framed within the light as it wrapped it’s blue, smoky tendrils around the cover. “See, listen to it.”
Stuck hopelessly in a state of blissful calmness, poetry entered my ears. I reached out for the light, grasping the book instead as the blue wisps twisted about my fingers. Jake searched for another book, turning away from me. The hold the light had over my thoughts broke, and the poetic voices grew louder. It took all my strength not to grab him and twist his gaze back toward me. I shook my head, clenching my fists over the cover. Stop that, I told myself.
“Can you hear it?” his hands were above him, thumbing for a book on the top shelf.
With so many books, the poet’s words were a blur, but the melody of the syllables was beautiful and relaxing.
He brought down another book, replacing the one in my hands, along with the return of the light. “So, when you’re forced to come here for class, just come to this section. It’s a lot easier to digest. It’s like music.”
I told myself this wasn’t right, using all my strength to turn away from him, still holding the book. Keeping my eyes fixed on the ground in order to avoid another glance at the light, I tried to hone in on just one voice. I hoped that by doing so, I could get my sanity back.
“Whose voices are they?” I asked.
I heard him pull another book from the shelf. “You’re saying you don’t know?”
I let my backpack fal
l from my shoulders, suddenly feeling as though it were holding me back, keeping me from some sort of freedom. “No… I don’t know. I hate it here, remember?” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing up. The light caught me. What was I thinking? I squeezed the book hard, as though it were the only thing keeping me from being sucked in.
“It’s the author’s voice.” He pressed the book in his hand toward me, again taking the one I had been holding. I forced my eyes shut, only to open them to the cover of the new book. I flipped it around in my grasp, nervously reading the title over and over—Edgar A. Poe.
Edgar’s voice dominated my thoughts, surprisingly soft and withheld. I used the sound of it to draw me away from the light, swallowing hard. “That’s unreal.”
Jake unhooked his glasses from his shirt and pushed them back over his eyes. The tug toward him ceased instantaneously. I gasped.
“What?” He gave me a strange look.
For a moment I wondered if I’d allowed my guard to fall enough to permit him to hear my thoughts. I grew further nervous.
“Did you hear something interesting?” he added, narrowing his eyes.
I pulled the book to my chest, hugging it like I would my savior. I hadn’t let him know, right? “Oh, uh… it’s just amazing, is all.” The sucking sensation was gone as though it had never been there. My independence had been returned.
Jake watched me for a moment. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah,” I insisted, trying to get myself to believe it as well.
The bell rang then.
I used it as an excuse to find better overhead lighting. “Let’s go.” I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the library, avoiding any shadows that provoked this emotion out of Jake, this emotion I don’t think he even knew about.
In the hall, Jake pulled back to stop me, using a good amount of strength to do so. “Whoa, hold on.” He was breathing hard as he removed his glasses once more, rubbing the sweat from his brow. No blue light came of it, just Edgar’s voice as I continued to grasp desperately to the book. “What’s your issue?”
With a fluttering stomach, I gazed deep into his eyes. Where did it go? Kids crashed out of the doors around us, leaving us in a swarm of bodies. He quickly replaced his glasses.
Everyone was in a rush to get as far away from this place as possible. I took a deep breath, Jake and I the only resistance amongst the flow. “Can we please just leave now?”
“Yeah. Okay. Come on,” he gently grasped my elbow. “Let’s just get out of here.”
We walked to the lot in silence. I left Jake at his car with a simple goodbye, thanking him for the book, which I’d pretty much stolen. Walking on a little further, I met Wes as he stood by his car, looking toward the field across the lot. He wrapped his arm around me, not bothering to break his gaze from the field.
“Hey, girl, how was your day?” Wes leaned just enough toward me to give me a kiss on the head.
I rolled into his one-armed embrace, speaking into his shirt. “It was—interesting.” Edgar A. Poe whispered tragic words between us. I pulled away from Wes, seeing his gaze was still on the field. I looked in the direction he was, seeing the owl sitting on the fence about fifty yards away. “Is she always going to be around now?”
Wes looked down at me. “You jealous?”
I snorted. “No.” I denied, though it did make me jealous in some strange way. “What does she want, anyway?”
Wes brushed his hand across my cheek. “Me, I guess.”
I laughed. “Well, she’s not going to get you.” I stood on my toes until my lips met with his. I heard the owl cry, adding to my vindictive drive. I parted my lips, grasping Wes’s sleeves and pulling him closer.
“Emily.” He spoke against my lips, laughing. “Not here.”
I grinned. “Then let’s go.” I insisted, popping open the car door behind Wes and playfully nudging him down into the driver seat. I tossed the book and my bag in the backseat before climbing in behind him, straddling his lap. The book had popped open, Edgar’s voice filling my head, but it was romantic.
“Really?” Wes’s cheeks were flushed. “Here?”
I shrugged, grinning back. “You have tinted windows,” I added.
The truth was that I was nervous about what had happened with the veiled light, and it had me feeling guilty. I needed to overcompensate for my faltering feelings toward this new emotion for Jake by replacing it with a tangible one that I could control. Wes’s lust was controllable, and Edgar’s poems were a good distraction for my thoughts.
Wes leaned forward, hooking his hand behind my head, his lips parted as he kissed me again. I played with the collar of his shirt, his hand trailing down my neck and over my shoulders. The gentle touch continued down my arms to my waist. Wes squeezed me closer, breathing the way he did when his animal instincts began to surface. Wes bravely reached his hand under my shirt, his fingers delicately following the dip of my spine and under the strap of my bra. His hand came to a rest between my shoulder blades—our bodies rising.
I gasped in delight, and the heat in the car rose a couple degrees. The world around us fell away. I reached my hand under his shirt, unhooking the buckle of his belt. Our lips were unable to release from each other’s, locked tight. The words in my head made me forget everything but this; nothing but this mattered. I lifted his shirt over his head, his skin slick with sweat against my palms. I sighed softly.
Wes’s muscles were visibly tense, but his touch was so soft. He trembled ever so gently, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He smiled against my lips. I smiled back, but I could not hear what he was thinking. The poem in my head had overcome me as I clung to the words that had suddenly made me feel so desperate and afraid. I wanted to cry, suddenly dropping my head and pressing my forehead to his neck. I was overcome with emotion, overcome with the feeling and rush of us together.
“What?” he asked.
I just shook my head.
He ran his hands slowly down my sides to my waist. “Are you afraid?”
I laughed, thinking of the poem. It had been about a girl named Annabel Lee and a love that was forbidden. It had reminded me of how short life is, and how different our life together was always going to be. “No.”
Wes nudged my forehead with his chin and my head rose. His eyes were so full of emotion, glazed with pure love. He bit his lip, half smiling. “Lost?”
I laughed nervously, nodding lightly.
He traced my lips with his finger, his other hand spread on my back where he tugged at my shirt, gently pulling it over my head. “I think I’ve got it from here,” he confidently added. His hand traced down the center of my chest to my belly button; I giggled. His hands moved to my hips and I leaned close to him—
“Bang!”
I flew back away from Wes, my head hitting the low, tinted windshield and knocking Edgar’s voice out of my thoughts. “Ouch!”
The initial sound was followed with a series of high-pitched scratching noises, like nails on a chalkboard.
“What the—” Wes had slammed against the back of his seat, looking horrified.
I looked over my shoulder. The owl was on the hood behind me, her wings outstretched and her eyes narrow. I screamed, and she chortled loudly, throwing herself at the glass.
I breathed hard as I rolled away from Wes and into my own seat. “Wes!” I yelled. It was frightening, watching her like this. She was hurting herself.
Wes rolled down the window, putting his hand out. “Stella, it’s okay.” He clicked his tongue, talking with a soothing voice.
The owl calmed a little, but her feathers were still fluffed. Her eyes flicked from me to Wes and back again. Wes wiggled his fingers, clicking again. She nipped at him. He pulled back with a frown, blood oozing from a small cut. He cursed and licked his finger.
Disgust pinched my stomach. “Wes! Don’t do that! She probably has worms.”
Wes laughed. “I’m part animal, Em. It doesn’t matter.”
; I grunted. “Gross, Wes…” I wasn’t even about to say what I was thinking.
Wes slowly put his arm back out the window. This time Stella nuzzled against it. He twisted his fingers through the downy feathers on her neck. “Even if you’re not jealous, Stella sure is.”
I looked from Wes to Stella. “I’m not competing with that thing.” I grabbed for my shirt which had ended up in the back seat. While I was back there, I slammed the poetry book shut, grumbling.
Wes brushed his hand over Stella’s head again and again, her eyes slanting closed. “We’ll just have to be a little more private next time.”
I rolled my eyes, discouraged by the whole day. Wes rolled the window back up and started the car. “It’ll be okay, Emily. It was you that wanted to take it slow, remember? We haven’t even officially had our second date. You don’t want to be labeled a floozy.”
An icy glare grew across my face. “I’m not a floozy,” I murmured. “And so what if I am? With you, it’s different.”
His brows elevated. “So, you really wouldn’t have stopped me this time, even at the very last moment?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you’ll never find out.” The moment couldn’t have been more perfect. Stupid bird.
Wes slapped his hand against his leg. “I knew my chances were good.” He made a hand gesture at the owl.
Stella ran her nails over his hood one more time. We both winced.
Wes hit the dash with his hand, startling Stella. “Stop that.”
