by Pam Tribble
Chapter XVI.
Lyra let herself inside. She hung up her jacket and went to the kitchen to get a drink and turn off the light her parents had left on for her. She saw on the kitchen table a plate of chocolate-chip cookies covered with plastic wrap. Two glasses had been set out. Evidently her mom had thought she might invite Jonah in for a snack after the dance. That had been exactly what Lyra had hoped to do. Her heart sank thinking how the night could have ended—should have ended. Hopes of a long kiss goodnight wrapped in Jonah’s arms had just been wishful thinking after all.
Her stomach twisted and she grimaced at the cookies before turning off the kitchen light and heading upstairs.
In her room, Harry greeted her by lazily lifting his eyelids and thumping his tail twice before drifting back off to sleep on his oversized pillow. Lyra envied him. There was no way she would be able to sleep any time in the near future.
Lyra paced back and forth and wondered what Jonah was thinking, what he was planning. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed his number. After one ring it went directly to his voicemail. She didn’t bother leaving a message.
Lyra went into the bathroom, washed her face, and brushed her teeth, thinking. By the time she was through, she’d made up her mind. She changed out of her dance clothes and into a thick sweat-suit.
There was no way she could wait to talk to him until morning. He’d had a desperate sort of look in his eyes when he left her. It frightened her. What if he just left? What if she never saw him again?
Lyra tiptoed back downstairs. From the coat closet she grabbed her gloves, scarf, wool hat and an old care-worn jacket. She snuck back upstairs, turned off her bedroom light, and donned her outerwear.
Silently she slid open her window and shimmed out and down the ladder. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly. The moon was bright overhead, lighting the thin clouds from behind making the sky look gray rather than black.
Lyra jogged across her property, through the patch of woods, and into the moonlit clearing that was Jonah’s yard. His backyard was illuminated by the floodlight attached to the tree—the same one she’d seen him under chopping wood a few weeks back. It seemed like years ago.
Until she reached the yard, she hadn’t thought about how to proceed. Would Jethro mind her knocking on his door at midnight? Jonah didn’t have a ladder leading up to his second-story bedroom. She stood at the back of the house staring at the upstairs windows. Every window was dark.
The basement! Maybe he’d go to his basement room tonight.
Butterflies tickling her stomach, Lyra skirted the yard and rounded the corner of the house.
Bingo. Light shown from behind the black curtains hung from the basement windows. She held on to the railing and carefully descended the icy stairs.
Lyra made it to the bottom and stopped to listen. A few muffled movements, but no voices. She took a deep breath and knocked gently. The shuffling inside stopped abruptly. Then, a quiet curse, and the door swung open.
Jonah towered above her glowering. “What in the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
Lyra opened her mouth, but before she could answer he yanked her inside and shut the door behind them.
“Are you crazy?” Jonah continued. “What would possess you to walk through the woods all alone in the middle of the night?” Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”
Lyra, her temper rising too, lifted a hand and pushed at his chest in an attempt to make him back up. He didn’t budge. Huffing in irritation, she sidestepped him.
Now able to view the room, she saw it was in disarray. Papers from the desk littered the floor. It looked as though someone had ransacked his book and CD shelves. A large duffle bag occupied the sofa, clothes and personal items visible from the open flap.
Lyra turned slowly around to face Jonah, one eyebrow arched in query. “Going somewhere?”
Jonah’s expression closed down. “I asked you what you are doing here,” he said icily.
“Yeah. And then you asked me if I was crazy and some other stuff you didn’t give me a chance to answer. So since you feel like doing all the talking tonight, tell me, are you going somewhere?”
Jonah strode by her angrily. “As a matter of fact I am.” He went into the bathroom, rummaged through the drawers, took a handful of toiletries over to his bag, dumped them in, and zipped it up.
Lyra watched him in silence. He took another slow look around the room and finally his eyes rested on her.
“I’m going to get my coat from upstairs. I’ll be back in a minute and I’ll walk you home on my way out of town.
Lyra immediately began unbuttoning her own jacket. “Oh no, you don’t.” She marched over to the sofa and plopped down, her legs stretched out in front of her, feet resting on his duffle. “We aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.” Her gaze turned steely. “I want some answers from you before you just up and run out on me and your uncle, who will be devastated, as you well know.”
Jonah folded his arms over his chest and pressed his lips together as though in mute defiance.
“What are you running from anyway?”
Jonah exhaled loudly and his arms fell. “From arrest, most likely. Don’t you imagine Douglas is going to go to the police about his arm? I can’t bring that kind of trouble upon Jet.” He combed his fingers through his hair then shoved them in his blue jean pockets.
He was just as achingly beautiful in his distress. It made Lyra want to get up and comfort him, to smooth the worry lines from his forehead. Distracted, it took her a minute to process what he’d said. She stared at him incredulously. “Arrest? The guy was in the process of slitting your tires. Then he turned the knife on you. He isn’t going to go to the police. And even if he is that stupid, there are five witnesses to his three that saw exactly what happened.”
“I can’t take the chance,” Jonah replied, but his eyes slid away from hers. He walked over to the shelves across from where Lyra sat and stood with his back to her. “And what about those witnesses? What they witnessed was a freak show.” He pulled a hand out of its pocket and he rubbed it roughly across the back of his neck in frustration. “Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that stupid dance. Years of trying to blend in and I blow it just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
He turned to face her and saw her stricken expression.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’re right. This is all my fault.”
Jonah exhaled wearily. “It’s not your fault, Lyra. You were just being nice by asking me to go.”
Lyra grimaced. She had definitely not been trying to be nice. Her motives had been purely selfish. She thought of the feel of his arms around her as they danced, her body molded to his. It sent shivers up her arms just thinking about it.
“Anyway,” Jonah continued, bringing her back to the present, “I’ve blown it now. I don’t really care to stay around and be treated like a circus exhibit…freak-boy.” His bark of laughter was dry and harsh.
Lyra jumped up from the sofa, her hands on her hips. “Is that what you think you are? A freak?” She eyed him in exasperation. “Jonah, I’ve seen you do a lot more impressive stuff than what you did tonight and I don’t think you’re a freak. Superhumanly strong, yeah.” She paused and shrugged. “Superhumanly brilliant…and superhumanly gorgeous…with superhuman telepathic abilities…” She paused. “Okay, so you’re freak-boy.” Lyra laughed, but sobered immediately when she saw his dark look.
“Honestly, Jonah, Kyle’s thug friends never knew what hit them. And I’d bet my Toyota that when Kyle calms down, he will decide to keep quiet about it too. I mean, the guy’s a star hockey player. You whipped him and three of his friends—all seniors. You think they’re going to be anxious to reveal how you kicked all their butts?”
“Our friends won’t say a word if we ask them not to—which we will tomorrow at lunch. It is going to be okay.”
>
“Nothing is ever okay when I’m involved,” Jonah sighed. He shoved his duffle off the sofa and sank down, his head in his hands. “I wasn’t even trying to hurt him, Lyra,” Jonah said in a strained voice. “I was angry, yes, but I was holding him as gently as I could—I thought. He just kept jerking and twisting around…” He raised his head and looked up at her with a stricken expression. “I ruined your evening and have, no question, completely alienated your friends.”
“They’re your friends now too,” Lyra informed him. “And you didn’t alienate anyone. Couldn’t you tell how awe-struck they all were? You’re their new hero, especially Jonathan.”
Jonah looked at her derisively. “More like villain.”
Lyra rolled her eyes. “Don’t go anywhere, Jonah,” Lyra begged, turning to face him. “Where would you go anyway?”
“I have someplace else I can go—a home, if you will—any time I want it. I just haven’t ever wanted it.”
This revelation surprised Lyra, though she didn’t know why. Jonah was still practically a stranger to her in many ways.
“Do you want it now?” she asked fearfully.
“Not really.”
Lyra held the breath she’d been unconsciously holding. “I’m sorry about your tires. I’ll pay for you to get some new ones. That was my fault. Kyle was only being spiteful to you because of me.”
Jonah shook his head. “No. The guy never liked me. It was only a matter of time before he started some trouble. I’m not letting you buy me new tires.”
“Well, you can ride to school with me ‘til you get them.”
Jonah nodded distractedly and Lyra’s heart leapt with hope. Maybe he wouldn’t leave.
After a moment of mutual silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts, Jonah pushed to his feet and turned, his hand held out to help her up. “It’s late. Let’s get you home.”
“Oh, c’mon, Jonah,” Lyra wheedled. “It’s not that late and I’m not the least bit tired.” She wished she’d thought to bag some of the chocolate chip cookies her mom had made. That would have been a good excuse to hang around.
She leaned back on the sofa and patted it in invitation. “I’m already here.” Lyra could see the indecision on his face. “Unless you really want me to go.” She thought again about the trouble she’d caused him. “I…I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.” She held her breath.
Jonah dropped his arm. “I guess our date was cut short.”
Lyra smiled brilliantly. Jonah returned hers with a tentative lift of his lips.
He bent down, rummaged in his duffle bag a minute, pulled out a CD and set it to play in his stereo. Then he went over to the far wall where the light switches were located. He turned off the overhead lights and flipped the switch for the black lights. A wave of vertigo hit Lyra as it had before. The sense of falling off the earth was the same. She was glad she was sitting down this time.
Jonah came back, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. He reached around her to the back of the couch and grabbed the chenille throw. He led her to the round platform in the middle of the room. They laid back on the cushion and gazed at their own personal universe. Lyra was once again amazed at his brilliance and artistic talent. It appeared as if the stellar bodies were actually revolving overhead.
They lay beside each other, their arms brushing against each other lightly. Heat radiated from Jonah’s body and warmed her more than the blanket, but she could tell he wasn’t totally relaxed. He continued to hold himself stiffly. Lyra knew he hadn’t completely shed his worry about what had happened tonight. She racked her brain for some non-painful subject to distract him.
“So…” she began quietly. “You have other family besides your uncle?”
Jonah didn’t answer right away. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you said you had someplace else to go if you didn’t want to live with Jet. I assumed you meant other family.”
“Oh.” Jonah was silent again for a while.
Lyra guessed she had touched on another off-limits subject after all. She decided she better not push her luck tonight. She was insanely curious to know everything about him, but she didn’t want him to think she thought of him as…what had he called himself? A circus exhibit…a freak show.
Several minutes passed. Then,
“There are others like me. Well, not exactly like me, but with…unusual talents and abilities. There are…schools, if you will, where many of us go. Some, whose parents can’t stand their abnormality send them away to keep them out of sight. Others,” he continued, his voice now mocking, “thrilled with their supernatural child, send them to be educated and trained. One is in northern California, another is near Houston, Texas, I think, and then there’s one outside of Ontario, Canada. The U.S. government runs the two here in the States, but a specialized branch of Mensa, and one of its foremost members, Dr. Quinton, heads up the one in Canada. I lived at the one in Canada briefly. It wasn’t bad…the doc is a good man, but I…Well, I wasn’t happy there. When Jet came to visit, he took me back to live with him.”
Jonah turned his head and looked over at Lyra. She’d been staring at his profile while he talked. She reached over and interlaced her fingers with his. She smiled at him encouragingly.
“Did you have friends there?” she asked.
Jonah’s face took on a faraway look. “Sort of. There were some good kids there. A lot of them were just confused—like me. A couple of them, mostly the older ones, seemed to have made peace with themselves. They were cool.”
Jonah’s eyes turned cold. “Then there were some who were…not right.” He flashed a look at Lyra. Her peaceful expression must have soothed him because he continued. “You know the way Kyle is all puffed up with himself because he’s rich, popular, and good looking—well, there were kids there who were the same way—bullies. They looked down on those who weren’t special like them and tormented the younger ones when they could get away with it.” He sighed. “I guess you’ve got bullies everywhere—even among the freaks.”
Lyra squeezed his hand. “Quit saying that. You are not a freak.”
Jonah unlocked their fingers and raised himself up on one elbow to look down at her. “If you knew the whole story you wouldn’t think so.”
Lyra’s heartbeat accelerated. She remembered their kiss the first time she’d been here. He’d been leaning above her then just as he was now. She worked hard to concentrate.
“Why don’t you tell me the whole story and we’ll see?” she whispered.
Jonah took a deep breath. He’d never wanted to confide in someone so much as he did with Lyra. But if he told her his history he would surely lose her forever.
He lifted his hand and traced her cheekbone with his fingertips. She was so soft and delicate. He heard her breath catch in her throat. He saw her pulse throbbing rapidly at the base of her neck. How he wanted to press his lips there and taste her delicious skin. He knew she would taste every bit as good as she smelled, and felt, and looked.
Jonah controlled the impulse, but just barely. He gazed into her waiting eyes. Yes, she was waiting for him to answer.
He tore his eyes from hers and his thoughts from their impure train and tried instead to decide where to start.
