Outcast

by Adrienne Kress

  “You were an angel.”

  “Not saying I wasn’t. Just saying that considering everything else, maybe it ain’t so crazy that I don’t remember being one.”

  I thought about it for a moment, then sighed. He made sense. Whether it was true or not was another thing, but he made sense.

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny, sweetheart?”

  I sighed again. “I was just thinking how what you said made sense. And then I was thinking how crazy everything that’s happened is, and how none of it should make any sense in the first place.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “No, I know, my sense of humor, it’s ‘weird.’” I sighed again. “Come on, we’re almost home.”

  We got back to the house a little after midnight. Late for a school night, but I think Mother was so happy that I was being sociable she didn’t really care. She’d waited up, of course. To make sure we were okay. And maybe because somehow she’d anticipated Gabe would be asking to stay over, and she wanted to make sure he was comfortable in his room. Which conveniently happened to be at the total opposite end of the house to mine. She wanted us to get on. Just not to get on, get on.

  Lying awake, way too awake, I thought about everything, how bizarre my life had become in one week. I couldn’t decide which was weirder, being the minder of an angel with amnesia, or being suddenly interesting to the popular kids.

  Most of all, though, I thought about Gabe. About how I knew I couldn’t trust him, and yet at the same time I did. About the special attention he gave me. About how that attention made me feel. I hated that feeling. Not because it was unpleasant—far from it—but because…well…Chris…

  I flipped over onto my back in frustration. “This isn’t fair,” I said to no one in particular. I felt so stupid that I had even the smallest of feelings toward some guy I barely knew. I didn’t need him. I had Chris. I didn’t care what anybody said, Chris was still out there. Somewhere. “Why would I want Gabe anyway?”

  He doesn’t belong to you, Riley.

  I sat bolt upright in bed.

  A voice inside my head but not my own.

  I threw off my sheet and went to the window. There, just where Gabe had stood only a week ago, was a figure in white, but maybe not. I couldn’t shoot this one in the face. It wasn’t because my mother was home, or that I’d learned my lesson from the first time how much I really didn’t enjoy shooting things in the face.

  No. It was because this thing, whatever it was, this thing terrified me more than even the Angel Gabe had. Somehow deep inside, I knew that this thing, if I tried to shoot it, would fight back.

  And this thing. Would win.

  16.

  School became odd.

  First off, people decided they now wanted to talk to me, and by “people” I mean cheerleaders. I didn’t really get it, especially with the Lacy getting mad at me at her party thing, but maybe she’d forgotten. Or maybe, and this was what I was thinking was more likely, she wanted to keep me close in case I went off telling anybody about what she’d said. Sometimes she’d even invite me to eat with them at lunch. I didn’t really want to sit with them, but I didn’t mind enough to kick up a fuss. The stuff they talked about was a little inane, but the good thing was they were so busy competing with each other to talk that they didn’t seem to notice when I didn’t. Except Lacy. Who would always ask my opinion on something she knew I knew nothing about. Like clothes. It made me kind of sad, really. Now that I realized there was more going on with Lacy Green than I’d thought, it would’ve been nice to have had a real conversation. But she was more interested in keeping me in my place.

  The second odd thing was that the morning after the party Gabe enrolled as a senior. He had no transcripts, I’d no idea how he did it, but he could convince anyone of anything it seemed. Like my mother, who he’d convinced over breakfast to let him stay in our place in exchange for not charging her and Daddy for doing work around the house. And here he was, suddenly a new student, walking around like he owned the place.

  Everyone learned we were living together. The story we told was that after the party he’d been hired by my mother to take care of the place. It was true, just the wrong order. I think because of who I was and how I was, it was easy to convince them we weren’t hooking up or anything, despite the show at the pool. Besides, the girls were all too happy to accept that as truth without too much evidence.

  The story of who he was and where he’d come from changed from person to person. He became this mystery, and that was enough of an excuse for a lack of specifics. He was also instantly popular and loved it. It wasn’t like he needed to work hard at it. He just had to walk down the hall and everyone loved him.

  “Why did you come back to school? I thought you’d dropped out,” I’d asked him that first day.

  “And miss out on all the fun?” He laughed and draped his arm over my shoulder. “Besides I’d miss you too much, sweetheart, with you gone all day.”

  It was flattering and untrue. Sure he was adored by every girl in town, already had several dates lined up in that first day. And, okay, so he was having a good time, but I knew it wasn’t just about that. I saw the way he concentrated on his homework, sitting at the kitchen table until late, and I kind of thought that there was another motivation. Like he’d said in the shed, a second chance kind of thing.

  My mother seemed to take a real shine to him, probably saw him as a lost puppy or something. She’d bought him a new set of clothes, never bothering to ask why he didn’t have any in the first place, including a vintage leather jacket for when the weather turned.

  “You remind me of James Dean,” she said when she’d presented it to him.

  “Well, gee, Mrs. Carver,” replied Gabe, “that’s swell. Thanks.” He stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  My mother blushed and left the room, giving me a smile as she passed. I didn’t think she had a crush on him or anything like that. It was probably more like after years of dealing with a daughter who didn’t appreciate shopping or getting clothes as gifts, she finally had someone she could treat as her very own Ken doll.

  He even spoke like a Ken doll probably would.

  “Swell?” I asked sitting down next to him as he tried on the jacket.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. It’s…neat-o.”

  He laughed and then modeled the jacket for me. “How do I look, sweetheart?”

  Hot. Fantastic. Totally James Dean.

  “Like you.”

  I worried that first weekend in October when Gabe met Daddy that things were going to be awkward. I wasn’t sure how much Mother had told him, whether he even approved of having this guy living with us. I also wondered what he was going to say if she mentioned that he’d supposedly hired Gabe to do the lawn work.

  But, like everyone else, Daddy fell under Gabe’s spell instantly. And he even claimed to remember hiring Gabe, or at least to having had a conversation with Bill Rogers about needing help and assuming he’d sent us Gabe. I really hoped Daddy wouldn’t go and thank Bill for sending him our way. But he didn’t. He was too distracted hanging out with his new lodger and working on the house together.

  Everyone in town got used to Gabe’s presence, at school, around town, out every weekend with different girls. Daddy even got him a part-time job working at Dwight’s Garage after school, feeling bad that now Gabe was working at the house for free.

  Yup, everyone got used to him.

  Everyone that is, except for me. For Mother he became like a long-lost nephew or something, for Daddy a new playmate. For the kids at school something to gossip about. But I, who knew what he was and where he was from, who had to put up with his quick winks that only I seemed to catch and those stupidly perfect arms and square jaw, I spent most of my days with my stomach in knots.

  It didn’t help that he made himself at home really easily. Not that he was an unwelcome guest. F
ar from it. He cleaned up after himself, joked around with Mother, even did the dishes once in a while. He was just so at ease living with us, as if nothing about the situation was strange at all. And it confused me. He was so content it weirded me out. Sure, sometimes he’d overreact to things—like cellphones. He just couldn’t get over cellphones. And the Internet almost scared him. He didn’t much like surfing, preferring to do any research for schoolwork at the library. But other than that, he seemed perfectly comfortable living in a totally different century.

  Almost too comfortable…

  “Oh shit, sorry!” I closed my eyes automatically feeling my face turn crimson red. All I’d wanted to do was brush my teeth, I hadn’t thought of knocking.

  “Hey, sweetheart, it’s safe to open your eyes. Besides it ain’t like you ain’t seen more…” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  Did he have to keep reminding me that I’d seen him naked? I opened my eyes and tried to not be totally distracted staring at Gabe with the towel wrapped around his waist. I also tried not to stare at that perfect torso still dripping wet from the shower, his hair slicked back, and those eyes twinkling brightly at my discomfort.

  Of course, I should have knocked before walking right into the bathroom, but I kept getting the math wrong. I was so used to it usually just being me and Mother at home that the idea that anyone else could be in there was still so foreign to me.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  “I’m not,” he replied. “Need to be alone?”

  “Just wanted to brush my teeth.” I cringed inwardly. Brushing teeth was really so not the image I wanted him to have of me.

  “Well, I’ll get out of the way.” He moved from the sink and sat down on the toilet seat cover, grabbing a second towel and drying his hair with it.

  I nodded and got out my toothbrush and toothpaste from the medicine cabinet. I really wasn’t that keen on him watching me lather up like a dog with rabies, but I didn’t want him to think his presence made me uncomfortable either. God, this was so not hot.

  I brushed as fast as I could, spat as daintily as possible, and took a few hasty gulps of water.

  “All yours,” I said with a smile.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said standing back up a little too close to me.

  “Okay, well, um…” I backed away toward the door, “goodnight then.”

  “Night.” He grinned.

  I nodded. As casually as possible I slipped out through the door and gave him a little wave, which he returned with a slight shake of his head.

  17.

  I ran into my room and closed the door. Then I flung myself on my bed next to my open math book. Homework. Yes. Homework. Focus on that and everything will be fine.

  I didn’t know why I felt so embarrassed. I mean, I’d already seen him at the pool party in those tight wet jeans of his, hell I’d seen him even without the jeans, so seeing him with a towel wrapped around his middle was hardly a big deal. But the heat in my cheeks stayed with me as I finished up my algebra, and even when I’d got into my reading for English I still had that uncomfortable feeling in my gut.

  “This is stupid,” I said slamming the book shut and pulling my knees in tight. I hated how Gabe made me feel, which was a kind of unspecific feeling. I also hated the guilt that always came along with it, how thinking about Gabe made me immediately think about Chris.

  This time my thoughts went to Chris at his fifteenth birthday. We’d had dinner with his parents and then gone out back to sit in the tree. We sat up on the thickest branch, halfway up, facing each other, legs dangling down. That’s when he told me he wanted to go to law school, which was so crazy because everyone thought that football was going to be his thing. Well, everyone but me. I knew how much he liked to debate things. He’d debate the sky was green if I said it was blue. I remembered realizing then that in a couple years we’d be in university doing our own things. Apart. I remembered feeling so excited that he’d decided to follow his dream and also so scared of losing him.

  Stop thinking, I told myself as the tears welled up. You’re doing this to yourself, you can stop it. Sweeping away a tear, I gathered my books together and tossed them into the corner. Then I changed into one of my oversized T-shirts and lay down on top of the sheets, folding my hands over my stomach.

  I lay there, the breeze from my fan causing my bangs to tickle my forehead. Soon I wouldn’t need the fan anymore with the weather starting to turn. It made me a little sad. I always loved the heat the best. Mother always said she was in awe of how I could sleep so comfortably in the sticky heat, but I never understood why it wouldn’t be easy. After all, when it’s cold, you sleep with a cover to try to make you warm, when it’s so hot out you don’t need a cover. Isn’t that the same thing?

  I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind and relax. No thoughts about Gabe. No thoughts about Chris. Instead I pictured linear functions and multi-variable equations. It seemed to work.

  I was drifting off when I felt a wave of cold wash over me. It woke me right up, and I sat, startled. My heart was pumping fast, and I glanced over at the window. It had been weeks since I had felt this cold feeling. I’d actually started to relax, forgetting all about it. For several days after the pool party I’d slept under blankets and curled in on myself to keep as warm as possible, but then it had gone. And hadn’t come back.

  I climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the window. I hated looking to see if the figure was there, to see it standing glowing outside staring up at me. But I had to know. I had to look.

  But it wasn’t there. That strange white-but-not figure, it wasn’t there. I should have been relieved, but I wasn’t. Maybe the ghost thing wasn’t standing outside my window, but I was still totally freezing and that freaked me out.

  I let the curtains fall and walked over to the closet, turning off my fan on the way, and pulled out my blanket. I sighed as I threw it over my bed. Then I climbed in underneath, and, pulling it up under my chin, closed my eyes.

  The blanket helped a bit and I felt warmer. Once again I tried to let my mind drift, but this time it was harder. Now it wasn’t a boy thing. It was a creepy ghost thing. Linear functions weren’t going to distract me from that. I squeezed my eyes closed tighter and tried to focus once more on the breeze blowing my bangs and that tickling feeling on my forehead.

  Except, of course, my unconscious reminded me: you turned off the fan.

  I opened my eyes.

  A figure in white standing at the foot of my bed, its head covered in cloth. Staring at me. And a breeze seeming to blow the fabric pressed against its face out and back.

  “Holy shit!”

  I dove under the covers, the image still imprinted on my brain, my heart desperately scrambling to find its way out of my chest.

  What was it doing there? How had it appeared there? Now I wished it was standing outside my window. Outside my window I could handle. Close up, in my room, no, that was not good. That was so not good.

  I didn’t want to come out from under the covers. Not that the blanket protected me from that thing at all, but just looking at it scared me out of my mind.

  “Go away,” I said quietly, more to myself than anything. “Please, just go away.”

  He doesn’t belong to you, Riley.

  It hadn’t spoken to me since the night of the pool party, and the sound of its voice in my head pierced through me, hit me deep. It made me hollow. It made me a little nauseous.

  I wanted to stay under the covers until it went away, but I could sense it waiting, almost patiently. I knew it wasn’t going anywhere until I confronted it. I gathered my strength and pulled the covers slowly down so just my eyes were uncovered.

  It was still standing there, perfectly still, at the foot of my bed.

  He doesn’t belong to you, Riley.

  The voice inside my head was calmer this time, kinder. It made me feel a little braver.

  “What are you talking ab
out?” I asked. Well, more like squeaked.

  The figure just stood there. Was it confused?

  He doesn’t belong to you.

  “Are you talking about Gabe?” I mean, I assumed that’s what the figure had meant from the start, but I didn’t understand what belonging had to do with anything.

  Yes.

  I lowered the blanket a little. I was feeling so strange. Cold all over, terrified, and at the same time a little faint. I’d never felt faint before. Not even in the height of summer. “I know he doesn’t belong to me.” No, not faint. More like seriously sleepy.

  Good.

  “But why are you telling me that? I mean, it sounds like he actually does belong to someone the way you say it.”

  He does.

  He does? “Who then?” The figure in front of me was fuzzy, but that was because my eyes were half-closed. Or maybe the figure actually had become fuzzy.

  It was time to sleep.

  The Circle of Seven.

  “The Circle of Seven. Okay. Cool.” I closed my eyes. The Circle of Seven. What the hell was that?

  Let me stay and explain.

  I nodded. That would be a good idea. Communication is very important. With every ounce of effort I worked to open my eyes. The lids felt like they were sewn together, and I pried them apart slowly.

  The figure was gone.

  I closed my eyes again.

  The cold remained.

  18.

  The ghostly thing’s visit stayed with me for days. I found it hard to fall asleep at night, scared that the second I closed my eyes it would appear at the foot of my bed again. I wished I was a little braver. Especially as it had provided me with new information: The Circle of Seven. I had woken the morning after with that phrase imprinted on my mind. What the hell did it mean? Well, whatever it meant, it was my first real lead. If indeed Gabe “belonged” to this Circle.