Thoughtfully, I closed off Carey’s memories and opened my eyes. So my initial impression of Nurse Nora hadn’t been far off; she did see more than she should. I worried over that for a moment and then decided to let it go for the time being. She had known about Carey for more than two years now and not said anything to put him in danger; besides, she probably only had a vague impression of what I was capable of, and absolutely no evidence. I imagined that Nurse Nora probably derived a lot of satisfaction from appearing to be the wise old woman and saw no pressing reason to ruin her fun.
I stretched and got to my feet, glancing at my watch. My little foray into Carey’s memories had taken about fifteen minutes, so I grabbed up my bag and hit the light, peering out the door to make sure the hall was clear. Satisfied, I slipped out and locked the door behind me, making for my locker and the rest of my day.
By the time the last bell rang I was exhausted from avoiding Preston, curious gossip-seekers, and Carey. I caught up with V.J. at the door and asked if she could give me a ride home; I had made a habit of letting Carey give me a ride to and from school the past couple weeks and now I was more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of a ten minute ride alone with him.
V.J. obliged of course, and I had a fleeting sense of satisfaction when I saw Carey waiting by his car looking forlorn. A few moments later my cell phone chirped but I left it unanswered, recognizing his number. I didn’t think I could talk to him yet without crying or giving away how much he had hurt me, so I simply avoided the confrontation, something I’m really good at.
“You’re going to have to talk to him sometime, you know,” V.J. said, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.
“I know. I just can’t believe he thought I’d do that. You didn’t, and he knows me about as well as you do,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious. V.J. nodded and then tilted her head to one side thoughtfully.
“Yeah, but you know, I don’t think Carey’s real good with people. I mean he’s nice,” she qualified, “but he’s never been that close with anyone. Jared and Mark are his best friends, and Mark says they don’t really spend that much time together outside of school. As far as I know, he’s never dated anyone, so he may not have a frame of reference.”
I considered that for a moment and took it into account, but still didn’t think it excused him for jumping to conclusions.
V.J. dropped me off and I waved goodbye as I trudged wearily to my house. Dad was still at work so I settled myself onto the couch to watch TV. I didn’t have any homework; most of the time I was able to do it in class, since I never really had to listen to lectures with great attention.
Flipping through the channels, I stopped and sat forward in my seat when I hit CNN and saw Pound, WV flash by on the ticker. I waited for a few moments but nothing else came up, so I went to my room and turned on my laptop, waiting impatiently for it to load. When I finally found the story on the news website I was trembling with anxiety.
The story reported sources within the FBI indicated agents were investigating a double homicide in Pound, West Virginia, believed to be the work of a well-known assassin tied to a notorious biker gang. According to the article, the bodies had been removed from the town to be analyzed, though the FBI maintained a presence in the area. It was a short story with very little information, but I found it troubling.
I would have to keep my eyes out for any journalists that might be trolling the area looking for a story. Having my picture taken, even by accident, could be disastrous. If anyone from the Coalition or the special task force of the FBI that had me on their watch list saw my face even in the background of a shot of Pound, my hiding place would no longer be safe. I spent a few frantic moments trying to remember if I had seen anyone with a camera lurking, but couldn’t remember anything. I did a quick search on Google images for anything relating to Pound, but didn’t find photos that would lead to me.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned off the computer and flopped down on the bed, trying to dispel the lingering unease that was taking root in my stomach. When the door slammed shut twenty minutes later, I dragged myself up and went out to order dinner with Dad, a meatball sub and Stromboli from the local Italian place. I ignored the three phone calls from Carey that night and went to bed feeling antsy and paranoid. Several times during the night I woke and peered out my bedroom window, sure I would see some shadowy figure sneaking around, but by three a.m. I managed to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I woke up late Friday morning and only had thirty minutes to get ready for the bus, which I hadn’t taken in weeks. I yanked my hair up into a ponytail and pulled on some jeans and a loose-fitting dark brown sweater, stuffed my hands in my gloves, and grabbed my bag, scurrying out to the kitchen to chug a glass of milk and eat a banana. I made a mad dash out the door and down the road to where the bus stops and gave a scream of frustration to see it several blocks away, moving along at a good clip.
Damn it!” I shrieked, stomping back to the house to call V.J. I had just made it to the door when I heard the crunch of gravel and turned around to see Carey getting out of his car, his gorgeous face drawn in anger.
“What the hell, Liz? Did you just try to catch the bus? What, you didn’t think I’d come pick you up?” he stormed, charging up to where I stood awkwardly holding the screen door open. I let it shut and trained a severe look on Carey, my own blood percolating.
“Maybe I didn’t want to ride with you,” I said shortly. He stopped, stunned, and then with a look of fury grabbed my sweater, knotting it in his fist, and hauled me to him. After an astonished moment, I realized he was holding me several inches off the ground.
“You jerk! Put me down!” I commanded and saw shock register on his face when he realized what he had done. He lowered me gently and moved his hands to hold my arms in grip that I knew better than to test.
“Liz , I’m sorry. I don’t what I did to make you so angry, but I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry, Carey, I’m…disappointed,” I said resignedly. This was not the way I wanted to start my day.
“Because I asked if you’re the one who spread all that stuff about Preston? Because I didn’t really think you did,” he said earnestly.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Carey, you did. I could see it in your eyes, hear the accusation in your voice. I just…I guess I had hoped you thought better of me, and it hurt.” Once again, my stupid eyes were filling up with moisture. Carey raised his fingers and brushed a stray tear away.
“I’m sorry, Liz. I should’ve known you wouldn’t do something like that. I guess…I don’t know, I’ve just been disappointed by people a lot. It’s sort of habit.”
“A habit to jump to the worst conclusion about someone you’re friends with? You know, Carey, while I might sympathize, I’ve had a lot of cause to be disappointed by the human race in general, and yet I’ve managed to give you a chance, haven’t I?” I asked, my voice warm with indignation.
I knew Carey’s life story and while he had his share of troubles, there was nothing that compared to what I’d been through. He appeared taken aback and opened his mouth to say something, but I was on a roll now.
“And what has disappointed you anyway? You had to move and you don’t get along with your parents sometimes; big whoop. At least you have your whole family. At least you didn’t wake up from a year-long coma to find out your mom was dead! At least you didn’t have to give up everything you’d ever known and hide for the rest of your life! At least you’ve never had someone inject you with chemicals to keep you awake for three days straight…” I broke off suddenly, my hands flying to cover my mouth. I was breathing hard and tears were streaming down my face; I was utterly aghast at what I had just said, my whole body shaking with fear.
Carey’s face was a mask of shock and distress and he pulled me into his arms, despite my struggling, holding me still while I sobbed. Since I was so emotional, my control was weak and his thoughts flooded mine, making my head feel ten sizes too big, too many emotion
s running rampant in one person. He was sorry, I felt sick. He was curious, I was desperate to get away. Finally I drew in deep breaths and started to calm down.
“Let me go, please,” I mumbled, still trying to regain my equilibrium. Carey looked down and then released me, his heart-achingly beautiful face imprinted with concern and pity.
“Look, just forget it. It’s fine. Whatever.” I ran a hand over my hair, my head pounding viciously. “I’m not going to go to school today. See you,” I muttered, turning to open the door and lock myself away from the world for a few hours.
“Liz, please. I’m sorry; the last thing I want is to hurt you. Let me stay with you,” he begged. I shook my head and opened the door.
“Not right now, Carey. Just go.”
He sighed and started to turn away. “Can I still see you tonight? We were supposed to go to a movie with V.J. and Mark,” he reminded me.
“I don’t think so. I’m not really in the mood,” I said, willing him to turn around and leave. Finally he just said “Ok” and got into his car. I was inside by the time it left the driveway.
I spent the rest of the day feeling sorry for myself, remembering all the people who had let me down or tried to hurt me, all the disappointments I had suffered for the past four years. By the time Dad came home a little after three I was in a foul mood and didn’t want to be bothered.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you at school? Are you sick? Do we need to leave?” He stood in my doorway, rapidly firing questions at me as I pulled my blanket higher over my head, trying to drown him out. “Ok, what’s going on? Is this some teenage girl thing I’m not going to understand?” he asked cautiously, as though speaking to a bear ready to attack.
I smiled under the covers at his tone and mumbled, “Yes.” He chuckled softly and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently pulling the blanket down under my chin the way he used to when I was a kid hiding under the covers from the monster in my closet.
“Oh boy. What’s the right thing to say here, honey? It’ll all be ok? Or maybe, they’re just jealous? Oh, no wait; what’s his name and can I shoot him?” I laughed openly and sat up, rubbing my red, irritated eyes with the back of my fists.
“All of the above,” I replied with a shrug.
“Ah. Well. I’m glad I always know just what to say,” he said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Really, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?”
“No, it’s ok. It’s stupid,” I said and then paused thoughtfully. I hadn’t actually thought of it that way yet, but what I had spent the whole day obsessing over did essentially boil down to basic high school drama. So I had been involved in gossip and I was having a fight with my sort-of boyfriend. While Carey’s assumption of my character still felt like a betrayal, I could see I had maybe overreacted a teensy bit. After all, the gossip would pass in a day or two and Carey had apologized sincerely; was it possible I was being a bit of a drama queen?
I laughed out loud, startling Dad so much he nearly fell off the bed. “What’s so funny?” he gasped as he regained his balance. I shook my head and grinned helplessly.
“Dad, I think I just had my first go at being a punky teenage girl! I spent the whole day thinking that this problem was the end of the world, and it’s nothing more than some stupid misunderstanding. I’ve just never been in a position to get caught up in something like this before; it took me by surprise.” I snorted, truly amazed that I had worked myself into such a state over a trivial matter, especially considering some of the things I’d been through.
Dad just raised his eyebrows disbelievingly and gave me a look that clearly said I was crazy. “Ok, so my amazing comforting powers aren’t needed?”
“No, I’m good. I think I’m going to go for a run; I’ve been lazing around all day and I need to move.” I got up and hastily made my bed.
“Alright, hon. Don’t go too far, and keep your eyes open,” Dad said, dropping a kiss on my head. He ducked out of the room and I slipped into my exercise outfit, dragged a comb through my hair as I swept it up into a tight ponytail, and started doing my stretches. When I was warmed up, I jogged out the kitchen door and hit the pavement, setting a hard pace.
I was out on the main road and about twenty minutes into my run when I heard the sound of a motor gunning and the beep of a horn. I slowed my pace and turned around to see Preston’s truck chugging along about two hundred yards behind me. His head was out of the window and he was screaming at me; I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but I felt pretty confident that it wasn’t complimentary.
I came to a stop, wondering if I should do something. I wasn’t really concerned; it wasn’t as though he would run me over or anything, but the blind hatred on his face made me a little nervous. Finally, I decided to ignore him and let him get his fill of throwing abuse my way and then drive on past. Picking up the pace again, I resolutely faced forward, pretending that the continued screeching behind me was a trick of the wind.
Suddenly the engine gave an almighty roar and I heard the unwelcome sound of squealing tires. With only a second to register that I had vastly underestimated Preston’s anger and mental instability, I swirled around in time to see the grille of the truck just a few feet from my face. I made to jump out of the way, but all my knowledge and stolen tricks didn’t make me fly, or move faster, or be any less breakable than any other human being. I knew in that moment how useless my ability really was. In the face of the giant metal monster brimming with torque, my mind was of no matter, it just screamed out with the desire to live, to keep going.
There was a blow like a train hitting me, but strangely there was no pain, and I was moving faster than I could have imagined away from the truck and into the field next to the road. I was sure that the truck had hit me and I was just flying through the air to my death, by some fortunate stroke lucky enough to be spared the pain of impact. In another instant the movement had stopped and I realized I was being held in a pair of strong arms against a rock-hard chest.
Carey looked down at me, his eyes frantic. “Are you alright? He didn’t hit you, did he?”
“N-no,” I stuttered. Having downloaded Carey I was aware of his incredible speed, but there’s something very different about knowing something theoretically and experiencing it firsthand.
He put me down gently in the grass and I just sat there, too dumbfounded to speak. Even as he anxiously surveyed me for damage, we heard the rending scream of out of control tires and the heavy metal sound of Preston’s truck crashing into something.
“I’ll be right back,” Carey said and then I blinked and he was gone.
Chapter 12
There was a terrible silence, freakishly loud to me after the furor of the past few moments. I was still sitting in the grass where Carey had left me, trying to gain control over the convulsions racking my body; I was crashing from the adrenaline rush and could barely keep my teeth from chattering. In the distance I could hear a voice speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words. There was another silence and then Carey was walking toward me, the sun behind his dark head like a halo, the breeze playing with the silk of his hair, making him look like some kind of young god walking the earth for the first time.
He knelt down beside me and placed a tentative arm around my shoulders to steady my shaking. “We have to go; the police are on the way and I don’t think either of us should be found here.”
I managed a nod and he helped me to a standing position. To my shame, my knees wobbled and I nearly collapsed. Things had simply moved too quickly for me to process and my body was reacting to the shock of nearly being creamed by the pickup truck from hell.
Sirens sounded in the distance and Carey swore under his breath, scooping me up in his arms like a child. He looked down at me with fear and uncertainty in his eyes and I let my mind fall open to his.
“How am I ever going to explain this? How could I have been so stupid; I should’ve just left before she knew it was me, I didn’t have to let
her see my face. What must she think? I’ll have to tell her now, there’s nothing for it…”
Carey’s thoughts were a jumble, mostly centered on how he was going to break the news to me that he was more than human and how I would take it. The irony of the situation helped bring me back a bit; the shaking in my limbs eased and I was able to accept that I had survived an impossible situation yet again. Now, looking up at Carey’s brilliant blue eyes and feeling the strength of his arms around me, I knew it was time to tell him the truth about myself.
“I already know, Carey. I know,” I said softly. His eyes widened in surprise and then the sound of the sirens closing in jerked him to attention.
“Hang on tight,” he muttered and we were suddenly flying, moving so fast I barely had time to breathe before he stopped again. We were standing in the clearing he had parked in the first day he drove me to school to question me about Fitz. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
He gently put me down but kept a hand on one arm, as though afraid I would bolt the moment he let me go. I was in control of myself again and smiled a little at his concern; as though anything about Carey could ever frighten me after what I had seen and known.
“I think it’s going to take me a while to get used that mode of travel,” I joked, trying to straighten out my windblown hair with my free hand. At some point my ponytail had fallen apart and my hair was a tangled mess, like I’d been driving 90 miles per hour with my head out the window.
“Liz, let me explain. Please, just…don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” Carey pleaded, clearly still worried that I was going to start freaking out at any moment. I shook my head and smiled, suddenly excited about finally coming clean with him, having someone to share my secret with who would truly understand some of what I’d been through.
At First Touch Page 15
