I meet Logan back outside by the concession stand.
“They’re not anywhere.” A quiver of fear bubbles in my chest. I can feel the tears building fast. “You think someone took them?”
A hard knock explodes on the glass wall facing outside. It’s my mother with an irate expression, violently waving me over.
I walk past Logan mouthing a goodbye and head out in the cold damp air to meet her.
“It’s that boy again, isn’t it?” Her eyes expand the size of dishes. “Instead of a nice day out with your sisters, you turned this into some sort of romantic rendezvous!”
I hardly consider slaying a beast in the woods a romantic rendezvous.
“No.” I object just above a whisper.
“Where are your sisters?”
Again she’s exasperated. I bet I’ll hear later how she did the exact same things when she was younger, but judging by the intense venomous glare—maybe not.
Just as I’m about to admit I’ve badly misplace both Mia and Melissa, my cell goes off.
“Mia!” I hold it up triumphantly.
“So what movie did you see?” I try and act nonchalant as though I knew they were in the theatre all along, which I sort of did.
“Emma Fantastic.” She chortles into my ear.
“Emma Fantastic.” I say covering the phone. Both my mother and I turn to the display board to see what time Emma Fantastic gets out, only to find out after checking everything twice, Emma fucking Fantastic isn’t playing at the theatre.
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I have mom here and we’re both well aware Emma Fantastic isn’t playing.” I try asserting my authority in an effort to impress my mother.
“I know it’s not playing there.” Mia always sounds about seven on the phone so it’s impossible to stay mad at her. “We took a bus to the East mall on the other side of the island.”
My fingers shake as I glance over at my mother nervously. Something tells me it’s going to be a long car ride over.
***
And you know what? I was right.
It takes over forty-five minutes with no traffic before we turn into the parking lot. My mother has gone over every single horrifying scenario of what might have happened to the girls. Who knew the harrowing possibilities were seemingly endless? Of course she left out being eaten by a giant, smelly Fem, but she couldn’t have guessed that in a million years.
It occurs to me that I missed a thousand opportunities on the way over to politely nudge her and ask if she was an angel. At this point Mia and Melissa are in as much trouble as I am, so things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Mom? Remember when Dad would call me his angel? Why do you think that was?”
“Because you hadn’t bloomed into your teenage years.” She honks the horn as she pulls against the curb.
Mia and Melissa startle in our direction with the flash of the headlights.
“Besides,” she continues, “he loved making you into something special. Mia too, but your relationship with your dad was different. It’s like you shared some special bond. He said you would surpass him in greatness someday.” She shakes a pang of grief away.
Mia and Melissa pile in the backseat. My mother turns up the volume on her glacial queen routine, and we start in on a rather quiet ride home.
I lean my head against the cool glass of the window, and watch the stars turn and dance with every new twist in the road. I wonder if my father’s watching me, watching me kiss Logan, and shiver in fear while perched in the branches of trees. I wonder what he thinks of all this. I wonder if he really cares anymore.
Chapter Thirty-One
Leave
I text Logan as soon as I get back up in my room, and let him know I survived— for now.
He texts me back. I’m staying in tonight.
As oppose to? ~S
Lexy Bakova’s party. Gage wanted me to go with, but I said no.
Aww. He doesn’t want to piss me off so he stayed in. So wise.
Thanx ~S
So what are you wearing?
Flannel pants with a hole in the thigh, and a ragged old sweat shirt that I’ve used to do yard work in.
You’re a pervert, you know that? ~S
I was hoping you’d notice. I can practically hear him saying it.
There’s a soft knock on the door.
Brb. I drop my cell on the bed and scramble to a seated position.
It’s Drake.
“What?” I say annoyed, picking my phone back up and cradling it.
“I’m going out tonight and I want you to come.”
“You’re going out where?” I ask suspiciously.
“Some party at some cheerleaders house. Brielle wants me to go, and I don’t really know anyone like you do.”
“You just said Brielle’s going.”
“What if she leaves me?” He runs his hands through his hair in a panic.
“She most likely will.” I say it matter of fact. “Besides, I can’t. I’m grounded, like forever.”
“So what more could they do to you? And it’s not like you’re going to get caught. How many times do they come in your room at night to check on you?”
Never. I start rotating the idea around in my brain.
“We can come back early. And they’re already asleep.” He adds.
Mom did mention how exhausted she was when we pulled into the driveway. Drake’s right, she’s probably being haunted in her dreams by Chloe as we speak.
“Give me ten minutes.”
***
Drake thinks we should walk out the front door as opposed to climbing out the window and swinging down to earth on tree branches like I suggested. Turns out we manage to arouse the suspicions of no one as we make our way to the minivan where Brielle is already waiting.
“I can’t believe you’re sneaking out!” She hugs me as though I’ve accomplished something major.
“Drake has permission.” I nod in an effort to aggravate him by removing some of the mystic he’s trying to build.
“She knows.” He gives a dirty look before unlocking the door.
Clearly the scent of crap does not dissipate as easily as one would think. We drive all the way there with the windows down. And it’s not until I see Gage standing out front that I text Logan and tell him where I am.
Lexy lives just south of the mall, overlooking the ocean in a relatively normal sized home. It looks like the same crowd that was over at my house Saturday is circulating in the driveway. I recognize more than a few faces. I get out and make my way over to Gage.
He takes a full step back as though he’s looking at an illusion.
“It’s really me.”
“You look,” he pauses to take me in. “Amazing.”
“Thanks.” I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “I just told Logan to come on down.” It’s starting to feel a little awkward, so I do a quick survey of the sea of people to try and spot Brielle. Not that I really want to hang with Drake. Maybe we can both ditch him.
“So you all right?” Gage has a soulful way about him. His hair is slicked back wet. The sliver of moonlight that’s out tonight, casts a perfect reflection off the top.
“I’m,” I want to say fine, but what’s the point? “Completely freaked out. I don’t know what I’d have done if I was alone. For sure I wouldn’t be standing here. I owe Logan my life.” I gush.
His expression dims.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He motions for me to follow.
We head towards the side of the house, barren of people. Gage leans in and places his hand on the wall behind me, pinning me in.
Something in my gut loosens and I feel completely relaxed.
“So why don’t you go in there and fight some of those girls off for a while?” Truth is, I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me. Truth is, I’m afraid I’m not going to stop him.
“I don’t want to be in there. I want to be out here. With you.”
I look past his shoulder into the street. No sign of a car, not one single headlight going in either direction. A warm breeze wafts by, and the strong scent of eucalyptus fills the air.
“You know, I kind of have this thing going with Logan, and…” I let my gaze fall as his body moves closer to mine. I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, hot as a fever.
“If I’m going to marry you one day,” he says rather dreamily. “We’re going to have to do this…”
It’s an explosion of emotion when his lips connect with mine. A love song, and every glorious sunset I’ve ever seen all rolled into one. We write a poem with the dull ache of our passion.
I snap back to reality and push back hard. He flies back a good three feet surprised at how he got there.
I make a beeline for the front of the house where I find Logan talking to Michelle and Lexy.
“Hi.” I try not to sound winded—like Gage’s kiss didn’t leave me breathless.
He takes a hold of the back of my neck.
White noise! White noise!
I try and focus on my breathing, the stars—his eyes.
I need to be with Michelle tonight. I’m getting very close.
My heart sinks like granite.
“I guess I’ll see you around.” I say maneuvering myself into the throngs of bodies.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jealous
I can’t stand watching him with Michelle. Why does he care so much about a stupid diary when it hurts me?
Gage follows me around like a puppy—an apologetic puppy who thrives on my attention.
“You know he’s just using her, right?” I motion over to the two of them sitting by the roaring fire. Michelle has her arms around Logan’s midsection, and he’s caressing her neck. “He’s just listening in.” I say.
Gage doesn’t appear too amused.
“I would never do that to you.” There’s something sincere in his tone and I wholeheartedly believe him.
“Why does he want this diary so bad anyway?” I whisper.
“He thinks it has some vital piece of information.”
“To what? Get her killers?”
He shakes his head.
“You know what they say about a fool?” He whispers.
“What?” I don’t like how he’s comparing Logan to a fool. He looks noble, like a king sitting over there. He has a glow about him that outshines the fire.
“Give him enough rope—he’ll hang himself.” Gage seems rather proud of his euphemism.
We watch as Michelle pulls his face down and kisses him full on the lips. He doesn’t thrash around or toss her in the fire, instead he pulls back with a sickening loving expression on his face that makes me want to go over and knock both of them into the fireplace myself.
“He’s gone too far.” Hot angry tears burn the insides of my lids. I look around for signs of Drake or Brielle, but don’t see any. They’re probably rolling around in Lexy’s bedroom. Brielle’s not too shy when it comes to things like that. “Take me home.”
“Sure.”
The air outside has condensed a thin layer over everything. It leaves a fine mist over my skin and hair as we make our way over to Gage’s truck. A black one to Logan’s white, and easier to get into.
I’m so pissed I’m seething. I can’t see straight, partially due to the tears I refuse to let fall. I push them away with the back of my hands.
“I don’t really feel like going home.” I haven’t even been gone a full hour. If I get into trouble now I don’t think any of this has been worth it. Tears shoot out the corner of my eyes, rapid fire. I can’t seem to get a hold of myself. I start in on a full-blown sob into the palms of my hands, shaking like a freaking baby.
Gage pulls over and kills the ignition. He snaps off his seatbelt, then mine.
“Come here.” He pulls me towards him, and hands me a tissue from out of small box sitting on his console. “Look!” He marvels tracing the tail of a shooting star with his finger.
I wish I felt for Gage what I feel for Logan. I thought Logan and I had some stronger than steel impenetrable bond. I was already insanely attracted to him before I knew we were both Celestra.
I snuggle into Gage a little deeper.
One great thing about Gage is he doesn’t have the ability to know what I’m thinking. I don’t have to infiltrate my brain with whitewash to get through a tough moment with him. It’s a huge relief on many fronts.
He picks up my hand and inspects it.
“Are you sizing my finger?” I tease.
“No that’s your other hand. I’m looking for trail marks.”
“I don’t think I got any scratches today.”
His chest rises with restrained laughter. He holds my hand up to the moonlight streaming through the window. It looks pale, far too thin and fragile to be mine.
“Trail marks have to do with time travel. They’re white dots that bleach into your skin. No one knows why they appear, they just do.”
“Sort of like a passport.” I muse joining him in examining my hands. “Is that one?”
Gage turns on the overhead light. “Son of a gun. It is.” He hardly breaks out the enthusiasm when he says it. “Where’d you go?”
“I don’t have a clue. I don’t remember anything.”
“You must have went somewhere. Think.” He gives a gentle shake.
“Look there’s another one.” I say perfectly surprised by this revelation.
“You really get around don’t you?” His dimples ignite on either side.
I reach up and turn off the overhead light. I don’t want to think about how gorgeous Gage is, when the one I really want to be with is doing who knows what with Michelle so he can get his hands on paper—paper.
“How’d you like the kiss?” He asks.
“It was all right.” I give him a playful shove. Before I can say, don’t do that again, his lips are covering mine. I don’t back away or split his tongue in half with my teeth. I just let it happen. I don’t feel half as guilty as before. A part of me wants to indulge. This might be the very last time I kiss him, ever.
It goes on for long stretches of time. We don’t tire—just keep roaming around exploring, running our tongues back and forth, making lazy circles, figure eights.
Deep in my heart it doesn’t feel right, like I’m cheating on Logan with no diary to gain from the whole experience. But I know it really doesn’t matter. Relationships are fickle. I’m just fooling myself into thinking someone like Logan was going to stay with me exclusively. So what if he called himself my boyfriend? So what if I thought he really was. What do I know about love anyway?
A thunderous knock on the glass startles the two of us to attention.
Logan.
Gage opens the door. I’m not sure whether he gets out or Logan yanks him into the street, but a fight erupts. Full throttle kicks to the balls—punching. I see blood and I don’t know where it’s coming from.
A pair of headlights stream over the two of them before slowing down. It’s the minivan. I grab my purse and get out. I walk by their brawling bodies without once urging them to stop. I want Gage to beat the shit out of Logan. I hope that kiss hurt him as much as it did when I saw him with Michelle.
I get into the minivan and slam the slider door shut.
“Go around them.” I tell Drake.
And he does.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Insurrection
I can feel my cell vibrate in my jeans as soon as I get back into my bedroom. It’s Logan. If he thinks I’m going to engage in some lovelorn conversation until the wee hours of the morning—I glance up at the clock. It is the wee hours of the morning. I pick it up on the third ring.
“Make it quick.”
“I’m sorry. Will you accept my apology?” He sounds hurt and sincere and incredibly sexy, but none of that rectifies the fact I can’t get the visual of his lip-lock with Michelle out of my mind.
Ethereal Page 12
