by Stacey Jay
And then he’s there behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to him, my back tight to his chest. “It’s okay,” he says, holding me when I try to move away. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I sob. “It will never be okay.”
“It is. You’re tough, remember?”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You stood up to him. You’re strong.”
I shake my head. I’m not. I’m weak and selfish. I hate and I covet and I’m far too aware of Ben’s skin on mine, of the way his arms circle my waist, the way his warmth surrounds me, banishing the chill. I want him to be mine. I want to know that I belong here with him, that the arms I cling to will never let me go.
“You are,” he whispers, propping his chin on my shoulder, as if being close to me is the most natural thing in the world. “It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”
A strained sound—half laugh, half sob—bursts from my throat. My fears have been confirmed, but a part of me wants to weep with relief. He thinks he loves me; he said the words. Even though I know they aren’t true, they are still precious. “You can’t love me.” I do my best to keep the regret from my voice. “You love Gemma.”
“I don’t love Gemma. I have never, and will never love Gemma,” he says, mimicking the words I said to Romeo less than an hour ago, right down to the stubborn refusal in his tone. “I love you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you,” he says, with a quiet assurance that threatens to make my tears start all over again. “I know you’re strong and as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. I know you like to eat and hate Shakespeare—at least the love stories—and would do anything for a friend. I know you’re an artist, and you made a wall of bricks look like it should be hanging in a museum. I know you’ve been through hell, but you didn’t let it eat you up inside.” He pauses, hugs me a little closer. “And I know you make me think the hell I’ve been through was worth it … if it’s what made me recognize heaven when it jumped into my car.”
My throat squeezes so tight I can scarcely breathe. Everything he’s said—almost all of it—is about me, the real me, the soul inside this body. Ben sees me. He knows me. Is there even a chance …
No, there isn’t. I’ve had my chance. One soul mate, one chance, and that’s the end of it. I wasn’t summoned into this time for myself. I was summoned because Gemma and Ben are soul mates—the color in their auras confirms it beyond a shadow of doubt.
“No,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. “You may think … But you don’t. Not really.”
“I know what I feel. But if you don’t feel the same way …” The pain in his voice makes the tears run again. I can’t stand the thought of hurting him any more than I have, but there’s no other choice. He has to forget me.
“I don’t.”
“You’re lying,” he whispers. “Just like you lied yesterday when you kissed that asshole. You didn’t want to touch him; I could tell. You were doing it for Gemma, weren’t you?”
“She’s the one you’re supposed to be with.”
“How the hell do you figure that?” he asks, anger creeping into his voice. “She was never even my girlfriend. Sure, we made out one time at one of her family’s barns near my house, but it didn’t feel right. And it didn’t go any further than kissing. I swear to you. Even before I met you, I knew Gemma and I were going to end up being just friends, and maybe not even friends. She’s a lunatica, and she’s definitely not my soul mate or whatever.”
I turn, shifting until I can see his face. The intensity in his eyes makes me forget the argument I was forming, forget everything but how much I want to believe him. Even the deep, nearly auburn glow of his aura—the blush that confirms his love for another—can’t convince me to move away. I’m not sure anything could. Not right now, not when he’s so close, that fire burning in his eyes reminding me so much of myself, of the way I love.
“And I told her when we went for coffee that I wasn’t interested. She knows that. She knew it last night. All we did was talk and feed the horses carrots, because you’re the person I want to be with,” he whispers, pushing my rain-soaked hair away from my face. “I knew that when you started fighting me for the gas pedal. I think I was in love with you by the time I dropped you off at your house.”
“But—”
“I hated that you and Gemma were friends because I knew it would hurt my chances with you,” he says, pushing on, his determination simmering in every word. “And last night, thinking about you being with Dylan … I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stand thinking that you were with him, that he might be touching you, kissing you … I just—I—” He breaks off with a sigh. “I’m not doing this right, and I know I sound crazy, but … I love you. I could see myself loving you for a long time.”
My breath rushes out. “I wish I could see that too.” The tears flow faster. His words are breaking my heart into jagged pieces that stab away inside of me. Having him so close but so impossibly out of reach feels as if it really might kill me.
“Whatever happened to make you so sad …” Ben’s words trail off as his face drifts closer to mine. Closer, closer, until I can feel his warmth against my lips. “I would do anything to make it better.” Closer, until our exhalations meet and mingle and I pull a piece of him inside me with my next breath. “I want to be the person you come to for … everything.”
So close our lips will touch if either of us moves an inch. “We can’t do this,” I whisper.
“We can.” His hand comes to my cheek, cupping my face with a gentle insistence that sends sparks shivering over my skin. “I love you. I’ll prove it, if you’ll give me a chance.”
And then he kisses me and any thought of protest vanishes with the press of his lips against mine. He is … perfect, as perfect as I knew he would be. His kiss fills me up like sunshine, burning away every bad thing, beating back the darkness that’s weighed so heavy inside me since the day I learned there would be no happy ending. Not for me.
But in this moment, with his arms wrapped around me and his taste on my lips, his breath my breath, I swear I’ve been wrong. There is such a thing as happiness, and he whispers my name and holds me safe.
But who will hold Ben safe if Romeo convinces Gemma she should kill him? Her aura might be red, but she’s not beyond Mercenary reach, not until Ben burns just as brightly for her.
My blood chills, moves sluggishly in my veins. Romeo can do it. Gemma is vulnerable; she’s angry with me, and likely to get angrier when Ben tells her how he feels about Ariel. And he will tell her. He can’t know that she won’t understand, that his confession will put his life in danger. If this shift proceeds like every other, if he and Gemma don’t end up together, they will perish apart.
And I’m not willing to risk Ben’s life on the chance that this time will be different.
I turn my mouth from his, ignoring the howl of protest from my selfish soul. “I can’t.” I stand and stumble away, shivering in the sudden chill.
“Please, Ariel, I—”
“I can’t do this. I don’t love you.”
Hurt flashes in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have kissed me like that if—”
“It was just a kiss. It doesn’t mean I love you, and I know you don’t love me.” I jab the words in his direction, doing my best to get through to him. “We barely even know each other, and three days ago you were probably saying you were in love with my best friend.”
“No, I wasn’t. I swear, I told her I wasn’t into her, even before you and I met. She just wouldn’t listen to me. Or she would, but then she came up and kissed me like we hadn’t talked about being friends. She’s just crazy, Ariel, I—”
“I don’t care.”
“Please, don’t do this.” He reaches for me, a gesture of such supplication it makes my chest ache. “I know it’s hard to believe me. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you. But if you’ll just give me some time, I—”
“I don’t believe you. I never will.” I take another step back. “We should get back to school. We’re going to be in even bigger trouble than—”
“Olvida la escuela,” he says, anger in his eyes. “This is more important than—”
“Go back to school, Ben.” I cross my arms tight, doing my best to hold myself together. “Find Gemma and tell her you want to work it out. We can pretend this never happened.”
“No.” Ben’s lips press together in a stubborn line I want to trace with my shaking fingers.
“You have to,” I plead. “Do whatever it takes to convince her you’re worth it, or you will regret it.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You will. I promise you will.” Overhead, the sky darkens and thunder rumbles, echoing across the valley below. When Ben’s eyes look to the sky, I slip past him and back into the woods. “Love her … or run as far away from both of us as fast as you can.”
“What are you talking about?” He trails me, ignoring the hand I hold in the air, demanding that he stop.
“Love her.” Lightning flashes like a warning to keep my secrets. A warning I ignore. “Or leave Solvang and don’t ever come back.”
“What?”
“You’re in danger if you and Gemma don’t stay together. Just … be careful. Okay?” I see the confusion on his face but push on before he can speak. “I know you don’t understand, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to warn you. I wish someone had warned me.” My voice wavers as my steps grow faster. “I wish I had listened.”
“Ariel. I don’t—”
“Please listen, Ben. Please. We will never be together. Never, no matter what. It’s more impossible than you could ever imagine. The best thing you can do is forget we ever met.” Without another word, I turn and walk away, heading in the opposite direction of the school. I can’t go back there. I can’t risk seeing Romeo with the taste of Ben still on my lips.
SEVENTEEN
I walk home in the rain—again—this time wearing nothing but jeans and a tank top. I’m freezing, shivering until my jaw locks up and my bones ache, every second a painful reminder of how fragile I’ve become.
Finally, I decide to hitch a ride. The scariest people in this town won’t get out of school for another six hours. I should be safe. I’ve had my thumb out for less than five minutes when a car pulls over.
Unfortunately, it’s familiar car. With a very familiar, very angry woman in the driver’s seat.
Ariel’s mother leans over to open the passenger’s door. “Ariel Dragland, what are you doing out here?” Her voice rises to a note so high it makes me wince. “What is wrong with you?”
“Mom, I …” Caught skipping school and hitchhiking. This isn’t going to end well. I can see a vein on Melanie’s forehead beginning to bulge. “I th-thought you were at w-w—”
“I was at work. Before the school called and said you’d been in a fight and run off into the woods with some boy.” She snaps her fingers and flutters one impatient hand. “Get in the car! You’re going to freeze to death and the seats are getting wet!”
I slide into the seat and pull the door shut behind me. The heat blowing from the vents feels as if it will burn my numb skin, but I’m grateful for it. As soon as I buckle my seat belt, I hold my fingers in front of the plastic slats, hoping the warmth will seep through my hands into the rest of me.
Melanie stares. “You’re blue. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, clenching my jaw tighter, trying not to shiver.
“You’d better be.” She shifts into drive and pulls slowly back onto the street. Water churns around the wheels, splashing as high as my window. “What is going on? Why did you leave school? Why were you in a fight? Where is your sweater?”
“It got ripped on a tree branch, so I left it in the woods,” I say, answering the only question that seems possible at the moment.
“You left it in the woods,” she repeats, voice flat. “With that boy? The one who was kicked out of the other school?”
I shake my head. “Ben wasn’t kicked out of school. He came here to live with his brother.”
“Well, he’s probably going to get kicked out of this school,” she says, squinting through the windshield as the rain picks up. “And you might too. Do you get that? Do you understand how serious this is? You might not graduate.”
“I’ll graduate.” It’s only three months until graduation, and Ariel’s grades—with the exception of public speaking—are excellent. There’s no way she’ll be kicked out of school because of one mistake, one in four years of being a perfect, invisible, low-maintenance student.
“Ariel, don’t you dare act like you haven’t messed up bigtime,” Melanie snaps. “We’ve got a meeting with the principal and the superintendent tomorrow morning to talk about what happened, and it doesn’t look good for you. Fighting on school grounds is a big deal. You’re absolutely going to get suspended. You might even get expelled.”
“What? But I wasn’t fighting. I was just—”
“Don’t act surprised. You’re not that stupid.” Melanie jerks the wheel to the right and the car sloshes down El Camino, where standing water covers everything but the middle of the road. “What did you think would happen when you and your boyfriend attacked Dylan and then ditched school right in front of—”
“We didn’t attack anyone,” I say, not wasting time debating whether Ben is my boyfriend. It seems Romeo’s revenge has already begun. He certainly didn’t waste any time. “Dylan attacked me. Ben saw him and—”
“That’s not what I was told. The principal said—”
“The principal wasn’t there.” I shift to face her as she pulls into the carport. “And all she knows is whatever Dylan told her. Which isn’t the truth. He’s a liar, and—”
“He’s not the one who ran off into the woods, Ariel.”
“So what?” I ask, struggling to keep my volume down. “I was upset. Haven’t you ever been upset?”
“Sure I have,” she says, shutting off the car with an angry twist of her wrist. “I’m upset right now, but I’m not running away from my responsibilities.”
“Well, maybe you should have,” I snap back. “If your responsibilities are so awful.”
“Don’t you dare try to turn this around on me.” She reaches back to grab her purse from behind my seat, jerking it into her lap the way she used to jerk Ariel from the playground. Angrily. Resentfully. “You’re the one who messed up, and—”
“And you’re the one who messed up when you got pregnant when you were nineteen.” They aren’t words Ariel would use out loud, but I don’t try to stop them from coming. I don’t know how much longer I have in this body, and it’s time someone told the truth that’s been festering unspoken between them for far too long.
“No, it wasn’t easy having you by myself,” she says. “I had no one to help me. No one. I had barely started my life and—”
“And then I messed it up.” The accusation in Melanie’s tone makes mine harsh, cutting. It’s impossible to sit here and listen to this woman ask me to feel pity for her. I had enough of that from my own mother, enough of the guilt and the feeling that my very birth was something I should apologize for.
“Ariel, please, I never—”
“And then I messed it up again when I got in your way in the kitchen.” A part of me knows I’m taking this too far, but I can’t help myself. “And you’ve never let me forget it.”
Melanie pales, her lips going white beneath the flecks of lipstick still clinging to her mouth. “How … I …” She swallows. “That’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair?” I ask, my voice a liquid whisper. “It’s not fair that you tell me I’m too ugly to go outside without makeup. It’s not fair that you act like no one will hire me because of my face.”
She clutches her purse tight to her stomach. “I never said that. That’s not what—”
“It’s not fair that
you think I’ll never have a boyfriend because I’m so hideous.” I push on, ignoring the tears streaming down my cheeks. I don’t know who I’m crying for—myself, Ariel, or all the mothers and daughters who can’t find a way to love each other. All I know is that this feels more important than just another borrowed moment in someone else’s skin. “But I’m not hideous, Mom. You’re the only one who sees me that way.”
“I do not, I—”
“Some people think I look just fine. Some people even think I’m pretty.”
People like Ben. Ben, who wiped the blood from Ariel’s face without hesitation. Ben, who kissed her thin lips as if they were magical, sacred. Ben, who might very well stay in love with Ariel when the soul he’s really fallen for is gone.
The idea is an imperfect flower blooming in my mind. People don’t always end up with their true love. There are hundreds of perfectly suited pairs who never reach the place in their relationship that attracts the attention of the light and the dark. Once Romeo and I have been summoned, it’s always been too late for a peaceful parting, but what if …
What if I take Romeo out of the equation? Would Gemma go to Stanford in a few months, leaving Ben and Ariel to see where their life—and love—will take them? An eye for an eye is surely fair, no matter what Nurse says. And Nurse isn’t here, and the Ambassadors can’t be trusted, and I can’t fathom a world without Ben.
Even if I can’t be in the world with him.
Even if I have to give him to another girl to love.
I clutch my own stomach, trying to keep my insides from spilling out onto the floor. It’s an almost unbearable thought, but what if …
“I think you’re beautiful. I’ve always told you that,” Melanie whispers. I look up to see silent tears running down her face, a perfect mirror of my own grief.
I want to do something to make the tears stop, but I can’t. I can’t force the lie from my throat. “No, you haven’t,” I say. “I can’t remember a single time. Not one single time in my entire life.”
