Keep You From Harm

by Debra Doxer

  With a quick wave, I’m out the door. There’s no sign of Myles this morning, rather than ringing his doorbell, I just walk on alone. I’m happy to see that April isn’t waiting at the corner either.

  School is bustling with activity when I arrive. Since this is only my second day, I don’t recognize anyone but I notice them noticing me—the new girl. After unloading half my books and my lunch in my locker, I make my way to first period history. There are a handful of students in the class when arrive. I take the same seat I had yesterday. After I pull my notebook from my bag, I spot Lucas strolling through the door. He crosses the room and takes a desk by the windows two rows down from me. I wonder what he’s doing here. I didn’t notice him on Friday.

  Once he’s seated, an attractive girl with a pixie haircut moves next to him and starts chatting with him. His eyes move around her and land on me. I quickly look down at my notebook. I can hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and my reaction to him frustrates me. It’s stupid for me to crush on the most sought after and unattainable guy in school. The last boyfriend I had stole from me. Then he got arrested for stealing money from his fosters and tried to blame it on me. Boys are a distraction I do not need. I have a feeling Lucas Diesel would be very distracting.

  I’m not at all surprised when Tucker arrives and plants himself at the desk beside mine.

  “Hey, Raielle,” he says.

  I sigh and turn to him. “Tucker.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “So far, so good. Since I haven’t been harassed by your girlfriend yet today.”

  He actually looks embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry about that. She’s a little possessive.”

  “And a lot psycho,” I mutter as I turn back to the front of the room hoping Tucker will stop talking to me.

  I can feel that I’m being stared at, and I dare to glance over at Lucas. Our eyes clash. But this time, I don’t dart mine away and neither does he. He’s just blatantly looking at me. He’s not smiling or frowning, just staring. The pixie cut girl flirting with him notices and turns to see what’s so interesting to him. When she spots me, her brows knit together, and her mouth closes in a tight line. Thankfully, the teacher walks in and I turn away, breaking the strange hold he has on me. I take a deep breath and decide that I will not look in his direction again.

  The history lesson begins, and I stay glued to every word, taking copious notes, never once glancing in Lucas’s direction. When class ends, I shove my notebook into my bag and leave as quickly as possible. I can feel Tucker on my heels, but I don’t stop when he calls my name.

  I’m the first one to arrive in calculus. I take a seat and glance out the window. Then I absently scribble in my notebook as students begin filing in. When someone slides into the desk beside me I look over, and my eyes widen when I see that it’s Lucas.

  He gives me a lopsided grin that makes his eyes twinkle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says.

  “Are you in all my classes?” I ask.

  He faces forward in his desk and splays his long legs out in front of him. Without looking at me, he says, “Just the morning ones.”

  I don’t respond, but I do wonder how on earth I missed him on Friday.

  When the calculus teacher enters the room, I know that paying attention with Lucas beside me is going to be difficult, but still necessary. And I do pay attention, but I’m also very aware of him and everything he’s doing, whether it’s shifting his legs, taking notes, or resting his chin on his hand. I’ve never been this aware of a guy before, and it feels like he’s just as attuned to me. From the corner of my eye, I notice him glancing at me throughout the class, but I never overtly do the same.

  When calculus ends, before I can stand and rush out again, Lucas says, “English next, right?”

  I nod as I grab my bag up from the floor. Once I make my way down the aisle, I see that he’s waiting for me at the end. We enter the busy hallway together. He doesn’t talk as we walk to our next class, and our silent stroll to English is starting to feel awkward. I decide to make a joke as I turn to him and ask, “So is your girlfriend going to accost me and accuse me of flirting with you, too?”

  He smirks at me. “If that’s your way of asking me if I have a girlfriend, the answer is no.”

  I immediately realize how my question sounded. His self-satisfied smile makes my face feel hot. “It wasn’t. But thanks for sharing,” I comment, hoping he doesn’t notice my embarrassment. Then I keep my gaze straight and my mouth shut for the rest of the walk.

  I’m relieved to finally arrive at English class. I take my seat, and Lucas sits right beside me again. A striking girl walks in and sits on the other side of him. She’s dressed in seriously tight, practically painted on jeans, and she has wispy hair so blonde it’s almost white.

  “Where were you Saturday?” she asks him as she places her pink-tipped fingers on his tan forearm. “Sophie had a ton of people at her house. It was the first pool party of the season and you missed it.”

  Of course, he’s friends with this girl. I’m arranging my pen and notebook while covertly watching this exchange. Lucas casually moves his arm so her fingers aren’t touching him anymore. “I was busy,” he says.

  “Well you’re coming next weekend, right? Chad’s band is playing over in Ridgeton. We’re all going.”

  Lucas gives her a tight nod. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

  The girl squeals in delight, and I think I actually flinch at the sound. Class starts, and I get a reality check when the blonde keeps whispering to Lucas throughout the lesson. When class ends, I hurry out into the hallway alone.

  Myles is leaning against my locker when I arrive. “Lunch today, right? You promised.”

  I point at my locker door. “Are you going to let me get in there?”

  “Not until you agree to be sociable and come to lunch.”

  I smile reluctantly. “Fine.”

  He takes a step to the side, allowing me access.

  “I didn’t see you this morning.” I pile my books inside and pull out my lunch bag.

  “Sorry about that. April drove us. She needed to get here early for cheerleading practice. I would have texted you, but I don’t have your number.”

  I reach into my back pocket and place my new phone in his hand.

  He starts tapping on the screen. “Your only contact is Kyle?” he comments curiously. “Now you have me, too.” He calls himself from my phone and glances up at me again. “And I have you.”

  I pocket my phone and follow Myles toward the cafeteria I’ve only seen in passing. The noise hits me first. It’s a loud, echoing mix of clanking dishes and raised voices. The sun glares in through a wall of windows, whitewashing the scattered long and short tables that line the airy room. I see the faces of Myles’s friends sitting at a narrow rectangular table he’s obviously heading toward. Jake and April are there. So is the blonde from English. She’s sitting next to an exotic looking girl with almond shaped eyes and shiny, dark hair that flows smoothly over her shoulders. Sitting side by side, the contrast of their coloring is pronounced, especially since their overall style and look is exactly the same. Next to the exotic girl, is Lucas. He doesn’t seem to be friends with any homely girls. I spot an empty seat on the opposite side of the table. It’s the one farthest from Lucas, and I decide it’s safest to sit there.

  “You all know Raielle,” Myles says, pointing in my direction as he takes the chair across from me. He’s next to Jake and I’m next to April. My eyes flick over everyone and I smile, taking care not to make eye contact with anyone in particular.

  “No, rude boy, we don’t all know her,” the blonde from English class says. “I’m Kellie and this is Sophie.” She points to the dark girl beside her. I assume that’s the same Sophie who used to be Lucas’s girlfriend.

  I wave a hello to them and start pulling out the sandwich Chloe made for me. I’ve never had anyone make me a lunch like this, and having it today gives me a warm little thrill that has me feelin
g foolish. It’s just a packed lunch.

  “Did you mug a first grader on your way to school today?” Myles asks, smirking at my bag.

  “Are you making fun of my insulated Dora lunch sack?” I lob back, acting offended. I’m too pleased right now to actually feel any real embarrassment.

  “That’s Dora? She kind of looks like an Oompa Loompa.”

  “Hey,” I point at him. “Don’t hate on Dora. She’s just a post-modern girl trying to find her way in the world. She’s an explorer when most girls her age want to be princesses. Let’s show her a little respect, okay?”

  Myles blinks at me, and I realize that the whole table is staring. Then Jake busts out laughing. Myles shakes his head and grins. “You’re a trip, Raielle.”

  My eyes travel to the other end of the table, and I notice that Sophie and Kellie are looking at me and whispering as they sip their diet sodas. From what I can tell, that’s all they’re having for lunch. Lucas is peering down at his tray trying unsuccessfully to conceal a smile. I turn back to Myles before Lucas can catch me looking at him. I take a huge bite of my sandwich and wink at a still amused Myles, feeling nearly normal today or what I imagine normal feels like. I haven’t used my abilities since I’ve been here, and when I go for a while without tapping into them, I can almost pretend they don’t exist, like they’re not biding their time, waiting to emerge and alienate any sense of normalcy I manage to achieve. It’s only a matter of time.

  Once lunch ends, everyone scatters. I don’t have to worry about Lucas trying to walk with me again because he’s securely guarded by Sophie and Kellie who are glued to either side of him. As I walk to my locker, I’m determined to stop being so aware of Lucas Diesel.

  I’m at Gwen’s house afterschool. During chemistry, she asked if I wanted a ride home again, and when we realized how much chemistry homework we were being assigned, she asked me to come over so we could get it done together. I texted Myles to let him know my plans by replying to a text he sent me earlier, offering me a ride with him and April. Gwen quietly snickered at how long it took me to tap out a few words back to him. I’m new to the whole having a phone and texting thing.

  “When in doubt, convert to moles,” she mutters, staring at the textbook.

  “What?” We’re sitting on the floor of her bedroom. To my surprise, it’s pink. Gwen the semi-Goth girl has a pink room and a white cockatoo. She’s not nearly as tough as she wants people to think.

  “That’s what Mr. Pascorelli said during the first class. When in doubt, convert to moles.”

  “But that doesn’t help at all.”

  “No kidding. I’m hungry. Let’s take a break.” She stands before I can respond and heads downstairs.

  I follow behind, locating her in the kitchen. Both her parents work, and her older brother is away at college. She has the place to herself every afternoon until six she told me.

  “I’m going to cut up some cheese and apple slices. Want some?” She’s resting her hip against the granite countertop.

  “Sure. Sounds very nutritious,” I laugh.

  She frowns. “No junk food here. House rule, unfortunately.”

  I glance around at the stone and stainless steel kitchen while she bustles about, pulling food from the refrigerator. “So, you ate lunch with Lucas and his friends today,” she says with mischief in her eyes.

  “Correction. I ate lunch with Myles and his friends. He’s my neighbor. I think he’s taken me under his wing or something.”

  She shrugs. “So, are you into Myles or Lucas?”

  “Neither. What about you? Got a boyfriend? Are you into anyone at school?”

  She turns her attention back to the cheese she’s slicing.

  I sense something juicy and move to stand beside her. “You can tell me. I probably don’t know whoever it is anyway.”

  The knife in her hand pauses. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Who would I tell? I talk to you and sometimes Myles. That’s it. And I promise I won’t tell Myles.”

  “You talk to Lucas. People saw you in the hallway today,” she says.

  I throw my hands in the air. “Oh my god. This school is ridiculous. Every time I talk to a guy in the hall it makes headlines.”

  “Crap!” Gwen yells, jerking her hand back.

  When she cautiously holds it up, I see rivulets of blood pouring from her finger, dripping down onto the hardwood floor. I grab a dishtowel on the counter and wrap it around her hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asks in a panicked voice. “Those are nice towels. My mom’s gonna freak.”

  Before I can think better of it, I act on instinct. While still applying pressure to her finger with the towel, I place my other hand on the exposed skin of her forearm. I can immediately feel her wound pulling on the energy inside me. My stomach hollows and then seems to shift. It’s similar to the feeling you get when an elevator moves down too quickly or when you’ve gone too high on a swing and you fall through midair for a moment before the swing catches you again. It’s an exhilarating and satisfying sensation that vibrates through me but abates quickly when I remove my hand from her arm. Her cut was minor. It probably would have only required a few stitches.

  I can see Gwen blinking in confusion. She knows she felt something strange but she’s not sure what. My mother told me that when you’re healing a person, depending on the severity of the injury, that person can feel almost giddy. She likened the sensation to a buzz you get from alcohol. Of course, she would. With Gwen’s minor finger cut, I doubt she felt much.

  This is the first time I’ve healed someone since before my mother died. Every time I give into it, I’m defying her. Her warnings run through my head again now. “Resist using it,” she told me time and time again. There are always consequences. She was partly right. I’ve found that I can heal small cuts and wounds, broken bones, too, without consequence. But more serious issues, life and death injuries, can’t be tinkered with. I saw this myself when my mother tried to heal one of her junky boyfriends who had been stabbed and showed up at our doorstep covered in blood. She cared too much to resist healing him, but then his son died from an aneurism the next day.

  Gwen gingerly pulls the towel from her hand and examines her finger. I didn’t completely mend the wound. That would look too suspicious. But I turned the deep slice into more of a paper cut. “It stopped bleeding,” she says, turning her hand over. “I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

  Just then, my back pocket rings, causing me to squeal in surprise. Gwen points and laughs. “You’re such a luddite.”

  “Look at you with the fancy SAT word,” I tease. “For your information, I’m not a luddite. I’m poor. There’s a difference.”

  “Then let me give you some advice, Raielle. If you’re going to keep your cell phone there, set it to vibrate. Then enjoy the booty call.” She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I grin at her before turning away to answer. It’s Kyle.

  “Where are you? Chloe is getting ready to put dinner on the table. I told you my dad was coming over tonight.”

  I mutter a curse under my breath. “I forgot. I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” I end the call feeling badly. I turn to Gwen.

  “I heard. I’ll get my keys.”

  When we arrive at the house, an unfamiliar car is parked on the street in front. It’s a large white sedan. I’m about to open Gwen’s car door when I turn back to her. “You never told me who you’re crushing on.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “I shouldn’t tell you because you’re not telling me.”

  “Because I have nothing to tell,” I argue. It’s sort of the truth. It doesn’t matter if I’m interested in someone since I’m not going to act on it.

  She closes her eyes. “It’s Jake.”

  I grin. “Jake? Hey, I actually know him.”

  “I know. You ate lunch with him.” She seems envious.

  “Where were you at lunch? I didn’t see you.”

  “Because you were sitting in the ce
nter of the caf where all the bright shiny people eat. I was sitting in the back, at a corner table where the rest of us peons dwell.”

  I shake my head. “You’re so wrong, Gwen. I am not one of those people. I never have been. If it wasn’t for Myles, I wouldn’t have sat there at all. For all I know, they set him straight after lunch and now I’m banned.”

  She gapes at me. “Do you own a mirror? How could you not be one of those people? Guys literally stop in their tracks when you walk by. I know you seem oblivious to the way you look, but I never figured you actually were.”

  I rub my forehead. I’m starting to get a headache. “People react that way at first, but when they realize my personality doesn’t match, I’m put in the loner column, and I’m left alone.”

  She tilts her head at me like she doesn’t believe me.

  “I’ll sit with you at lunch tomorrow, okay? I’d rather eat with you anyway.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’re going to purposely torpedo your rep?”

  I sigh at her ridiculousness. “Or I could bring you with me to Myles’s table, and you can talk to Jake.”

  She vigorously shakes her head. “No. You can’t do that.”

  Her reaction surprises me. “Why not? Are you shy or something?”

  Gwen runs a hand over her jet black hair. “I’m not shy. I’m a realist. He’d never be interested in me.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  She bugs her eyes out like the answer is obvious.

  “You have a lousy attitude, but you’re attractive and smart. You should let me talk to him for you.” I’m not sure why I’m insisting. For some reason, her surprising lack of confidence makes me really want to help her.

  “No! Don’t you have a dinner to get to?” She huffs at me.

  “Fine,” I roll my eyes. “Let’s make a deal. When it comes to boys, you lay off me, and I’ll lay off you.”