A Need So Beautiful

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A Need So Beautiful Page 20

by Suzanne Young


  “Jump,” he says. My heart stops.

  “Jump,” Onika mimics. Then she hops down from the railing and goes to him. Monroe can’t see her. He’s staring at me.

  Onika walks, running her gloved finger over his chest as she walks behind him. “He really is still handsome,” she says. She rubs his shoulders, even hugs him. “You have no idea,” she calls over to me playfully, “how much he and I loved each other. Spent every second together.” She walks in front of him, traces her finger across his lips. He stares through her, at me.

  “Why don’t you let him see you?” I ask her.

  “Why should he?” she hisses, turning back to me. “He wanted me gone. He doesn’t deserve to see me.”

  “Charlotte,” Monroe calls. “Don’t talk to her. Don’t listen to her. Please, honey. You have to go before it’s too late.”

  “‘Honey’?” Onika turns to glare at him. “Isn’t that endearing?”

  “I don’t want to be forgotten,” I say to Monroe, ignoring Onika as she starts to circle him. “I want them to know how much I loved them.”

  Monroe nods. “No one can remember but a Seer. And I know it hurts. I’m so sorry. But if you step off that railing, you’ll be chained to this earth, slowly rotting. You don’t want that. Go into the light.”

  “Funny,” Onika laughs. “And what if there’s nothing there, Charlotte? What if he really just wants to get rid of you?”

  But I think of Warren, and how I was with him in the end. How much I loved him, not as myself, but as the light. And I know there’s something beyond me. And I know it’s good.

  Onika stomps back over toward me. “I’m getting tired of this game,” she says, and waves her hand. “Let’s go.”

  But I don’t move. Instead I hold on to the cable and wait for the next pain to hit me. I close my eyes.

  In the distance, above the sound of the rain, I hear something familiar. It’s the sound of a motorcycle. I open my eyes and look down the bridge.

  “Harlin called me,” Monroe says. “He was looking for you.”

  “He didn’t forget me?”

  “Not yet.”

  I watch in anticipation as Harlin’s bike comes up the high point of the bridge and nearly spins out on the wet pavement as he sees me. His boots hit the concrete and he stops, his eyes wide underneath his helmet.

  I’m balanced on the railing of a bridge, but I’m staring at him, overflowing with emotion.

  He takes off his helmet, stumbling off his bike as he lays it on the ground next to him. He drops his helmet as he stares at me.

  And I remember that I’m no longer hidden. My face is golden, all of me, really. I can’t decide what he’s seeing—if it’s brilliant or horrible.

  “He is handsome,” I hear. Onika is sitting on the railing, picking at the leather of her gloves. The rain doesn’t seem to touch her anymore. “It’d be a shame to lose him,” she adds. “Lose that cute little apartment in the Pearl. The one with the painting studio.”

  I watch as Harlin comes closer to me. His boots are dragging on the ground, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Charlotte?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “It’s me.”

  “Baby, what’s happened to you?”

  I shrug. “This is it, Harlin. This is my secret. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry,” he repeats. “My God, you’re so beautiful.” My sense of loss overwhelms me, and I sway, almost stepping down. But I fight it and hold on to the cable.

  “They want me to go,” I say. “They say I have to leave.”

  “Leave? No.” He looks so devastated at the thought that I’m not sure I’m strong enough. I don’t think I can leave him. “To go where?” he asks, glancing between me and Monroe. Monroe shakes his head and wraps his arms tight around himself, like he can’t handle this part.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t understand,” Harlin says. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Come down from there, let’s go. Maybe there’s a doctor or someone who can help you.”

  “No!” Monroe shouts. “Do not get down, Charlotte. You’ll be bound. You do what you’re supposed to do.”

  “What?” Harlin spins around to glare at him. “Are you telling her to jump off the damn bridge? What have you done?”

  In the distance sirens cut the sound of the rain. Monroe swears. “They’re coming for you, Charlotte!” he yells. “They think you’re trying to commit suicide. They’ll pull you down.”

  “Good,” Harlin says, and then turns back to me. “Whatever Monroe is telling you, don’t listen, Charlotte. You don’t have to go. You can stay with me.”

  “Wow,” Onika says. “Maybe he’s right. You should listen to him.”

  “Baby,” Harlin continues, “I promised I’d take care of you. That first time you got on the back of my bike two years ago, I promised you that. I meant it then and I mean it now. I won’t—”

  The night stops. I hold up my hand to him. “You remember that bike ride?” I ask him. It can’t be.

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember our first kiss?” My heart is pounding beneath my jacket.

  “In the hall. You were covered with green paint.” He pauses, looking lost in the memory. “I ruined your white uniform shirt.”

  “You did.” I burst out with a cry, but it’s one of disbelief. I look past him to Monroe, who’s standing there looking stunned.

  “He’s a Seer,” he says. “That’s why you’re my last, Charlotte. Because now Harlin will take over.” Monroe stumbles back, like he can’t believe he’s free. Free of the Forgotten.

  “Another Seer,” Onika says. “Didn’t anticipate that one. Well.” She slaps her hands together. “Glad we cleared that up. Now let’s get out of here before the police show and you end up on the nine o’clock news.”

  “No. Leave me alone,” I say to her.

  She grins. “Say it again and I will.”

  The sirens are getting louder. When I look at Monroe, he smiles at me compassionately. “Jump, honey. It’s okay to jump now.”

  Harlin tells him to shut up, and then holds his hand out to me, begging me to get down. He doesn’t understand any of this yet, but I know that Monroe will teach him. Give him the journals.

  But even with that, I still stand there, my heart breaking because I don’t want to leave. I’m holding on to the cable, my body free of pain except for a faraway ache.

  Then, the Need hits. Not the same way. Not like all the others. Over Onika’s power a wind blows through me. It’s love. It’s calm. It’s beyond me. My eyes set on Harlin’s and when they do, his expression changes. “What is it?” he asks.

  I put my glove between my teeth and pull it off before reaching my golden hand to him.

  “No!” Monroe yells, his voice cracking with the force of it. Onika laughs next to me.

  But when Harlin steps forward to take my hand, I only bend down to get closer to him. I stay on the railing. His face is near mine as he examines me, his expression amazed.

  “Everyone will forget I existed,” I whisper, taking my hand from his to touch his cheek. He closes his eyes and I feel all of my emotions, my love, fear, sadness, rush out of me and through him. He sees the Need. Everything I’ve done. And when I feel the last bit of me drain out, I let go. So relieved to be rid of it. So relieved to let him know.

  My hand drops and he smiles through streaming tears. “You’re an angel.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what I am. I just know that I love you. And that I don’t want to leave you.”

  The sky is lighting up with flashing blue and red and I see the police cars turn onto the bridge, heading toward us.

  “It’s time, Charlotte!” Monroe screams. “Go!”

  But I stay, staring at Harlin. We watch each other, ignoring the rain, the sirens, my golden skin.

  “Step down and no one will ever forget you,” Onika says, sounding a million miles away. Just then I reach into my pocket and my fingers to
uch something smooth. I smile, pulling out the guardian angel that Harlin had given me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as I put it to my lips and kiss it. Then I hold it out for Harlin to take. “And now I’ll watch over you,” I say.

  “Charlotte Cassidy,” he whispers softly, taking the figurine from me. “I can promise one thing.” His voice cracks. “I remember every word I’ve ever told you, every second I’ve ever spent with you. And I will never, ever forget you.”

  I don’t hide the choke of tears that come out. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I try to say. “I just love you so much.”

  “I will keep you forever, Charlotte. I will never let you go.”

  We look at each other one last second before he steps back from me, staring deep into my eyes with a love for me that only he can have. The love that tells me we are so much more than here and now. We are forever. We are complete.

  Knowledge surges through me. Acceptance. The end. “Onika,” I say, but don’t bother looking at her.

  “Yes, darling?”

  “I think I understand the Need now. The purpose of the Forgotten.”

  “Really?” She laughs, the noise cutting through the sound of the rain. “Well then, by all means, educate me.”

  I look sideways at her. “The Forgotten are the only way the light can touch people. By being among them we can spread love and hope. We dodge the Shadows so that the light can shine.”

  “Wow, Charlotte. That’s truly inspiring.”

  “But that’s not all,” I say. “I’ve realized something else.”

  “Which is?”

  “That maybe I’m also here to stop you.”

  Onika’s lips curve into a wicked grin. “That’s almost sweet. But I’ll be honest, love. You’re not nearly strong enough to take me out.”

  I nod. “Not yet.”

  Onika’s jaw tightens and she hops down from the railing, her boots making a loud clapping noise on the pavement. She begins to walk away, but then turns back to look at me. “I’ll be seeing you on the flip side, Charlotte,” she calls. “Enjoy the fall.”

  Suddenly I’m hit hard with a jolt of hot electricity. I scream until my throat burns.

  My golden skin is tearing and little cracks of light are escaping right through my clothes. But as the light escapes, the burning is replaced with something else. Pure relief.

  I find a way to lock eyes with Harlin again. And I smile at him, knowing he loves me. He’ll remember me.

  And then I close my eyes and let go of the cable, the feeling of tipping backward both exhilarating and powerless.

  Wind is blowing past me and I open my eyes to look at the bridge above me. But I see only Harlin. And as I fall, he mouths, I love you.

  The world around me is silent. And then there is an explosion of bright yellow light that extends to forever. A flow of emotion and heat pouring from me, illuminating the entire night sky. Illuminating the entire world. And in my last second, all I think is: It is so beautiful.

  After

  I hear an echo as sound hums its way into my ears. It’s a heavy noise, reverberating as it gets louder. Louder. Louder—I’m afraid my head will burst from the vibration, and finally my eyes flutter open and it stops.

  I see sky above me—blue and cloudless. Blinking quickly, I try to get my bearings. Sensation returns to my fingers and I dig in, feeling the grit of rock and sand beneath them.

  In the distance, I hear wind in the trees. I try to swallow but my mouth is dry. Sucking in a harsh breath, I start to sit up, my body shaking. Vibrating. It feels . . . electric.

  I bend my knees and rest my elbows on them as I look around. I’m in a park of some sort: sandy hills with cacti surrounding me, a center fountain flowing on the other side of a cement wall bordering it. Far off, I see cars crossing a huge bridge over a dried-up riverbed. A bridge?

  Where am I?

  Dizzy and confused, I stumble as I try to stand. I look down and my feet are bare.

  Walking is odd and my legs feel off-balance, especially since the desert beneath them is hot and getting hotter. After a few yards I find a street, which is empty but for a few parked cars. I glance up at the sky again; it’s so clear and sunny. I’m not sure why, but the light settles in my bones, makes me feel warm. Loved.

  I start to move down the sidewalk toward the bridge, when a glint of light catches my eye from a car’s side mirror. I glance over and look at myself in the passenger window.

  I see a reflection, but it’s not familiar. Suddenly, fear seizes me as I look between the bridge and myself. Feeling off. Feeling wrong.

  Because I realize: I have no idea who I am.

  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandmother, because without her it never would have been written. Gram, I miss you every day.

  Next, I was lucky to end up with a dynamic duo supporting me. First, my amazing agent, Jim McCarthy, who believed in this book after reading only the first chapter. Jim, you changed my life. And next, my incredible editor, Donna Bray. I will be forever grateful for your guidance. It has been an honor to work with you. And thank you to all of the fantastic people at Balzer & Bray and HarperCollins.

  I’ve written quite a few books over the past couple of years, and I have some friends who have suffered through every one of them with me, reading and commenting. I love you all: Trish Doller, Heather Hansen, Amanda K. Morgan, Bethany Griffin, Andrew Carmichael, Daisy Whitney, Hannah Moskowitz, and Rae Mariz. Plus all the incredible MUSERS who have let me vent and ask for advice.

  I also want to thank Lisa Schroeder, Laini Taylor, L.K. Madigan, and all the other supportive local friends here in Portland. I bow to your amazing writing skills.

  There were a few other readers and friends who helped me along the way: Kari Olson, Casey McCormick, Sarah Gundell, Mandy Hubbard, Josh Berk, and the Tenners. Also the SCBWI organization, especially Alice Pope. Special thanks to Lynny Waddell, Richard Raffule, and Dawn Goei. I wish I could name everyone, but this is already so long . . .

  And finally, thank you to my family. Mom, I hope this book makes you proud. Natalie, I hope this book holds your attention. Alex, I hope you don’t steal this book from the bookstore, and David and Jason, I hope this book gives us a reason to see each other again soon. Aunts, uncles, and cousins, I love you.

  For my husband, Jesse, and my kids, Joseph and Sophia—this book is for us, our own little tribe. Without you, it means nothing. Thank you.

  About the Author

  SUZANNE YOUNG currently lives in Portland, Oregon, where she uses the rainy weather as an excuse to stay inside and write obsessively. After earning her degree in creative writing, Suzanne spent several years teaching middle school language arts. Now she can be found at home chasing after her two children and poorly behaved dogs and writing novels for teens. You can visit her online at www.suzanne-young.blogspot.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Credits

  Jacket art © 2011 by Christopher Kolk

  Jacket design by Sarah Hoy

  Copyright

  A NEED SO BEAUTIFUL

  Copyright © 2011 by Suzanne Young.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Young, Suzanne.

  A Need so beautiful / Suzanne Young. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: A compelling Need that Charlotte has felt
all her life is growing stronger, forcing her to connect with people in crisis, but at the same time other changes are taking place, and she is terrified by what a doctor and family friend says must happen next.

  ISBN 978-0-06-200824-4

  [1. Supernatural—Fiction. 2. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 3. Best friends—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Foster home care—Fiction. 6. Good and evil—Fiction. 7. Portland (Or.)—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.Y887Nee 2011

  [Fic]—dc22

  2010040810

  CIP

  AC

  * * *

  EPub Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780062084545

  11 12 13 14 15 LP/RRDB 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition

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