Mindwalker
Page 32
Words rise into my throat. I choke them down. “I don’t want you to make your decision based on what I feel, Steven.”
“Just answer me.”
I clutch my knees and shut my eyes tightly. Tears burn behind my lids. “I want to keep you,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to disappear. I don’t want to see you become someone else, and I don’t want you to forget the things that happened between us. I want you the way you are.”
A warm hand settles on my back, between my shoulders. “If you see something in me worth keeping, then I want to let that thing live, whatever it is.”
I snap my head up. “Steven, I told you—”
“I’m not doing this for you. This is what I want.” He gives me a crooked smile. “Who knows? Maybe someday I can learn how to feel okay in my own skin. Maybe I’ll find out what it’s like to enjoy being me. If I become someone else, I’ll never get that chance.” The backs of his fingers brush against my cheek. “I don’t want to forget you, either.”
My heart leaps.
He touches my chin, tilting my face upward. Then he slides one hand into my hair and presses his lips to mine. His are cool, but they grow warmer as I kiss him. The world contracts to the points where our bodies touch—my lips on his, his hand in my hair.
When we finally come up for air, he whispers, “So, what now? I mean—okay, we head for the border, and hopefully we get across. Then what?”
I utter a short laugh. “I have no idea. But we’ll be together. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
His expression is serious. “You know, if I stay me, then I stay screwed up. My problems aren’t going to disappear. I’ll have flashbacks and bad dreams, maybe for the rest of my life.”
“So will I. But we’ll be there to keep each other from breaking apart.”
His eyes move in tiny flickers, searching mine. “You’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay.”
I lean forward and kiss him again, tasting a faint hint of coffee on his tongue. I try to lock the moment in my mind, to imprint it deep in my heart so I’ll have it with me for the rest of my days. Forever. Of course, I know it doesn’t work that way. Memories fade and crumble. This moment is reality. Forever is an illusion. But then, neurologically speaking, there’s no difference between the two.
We keep driving. The headlights cut through the darkness as I reach over and grip Steven’s hand. The open road stretches ahead. Canada waits. If there is a resistance, they may want our help, and I’ll have more difficult choices to make. I don’t know what I’ll do, and whatever I choose, I’ll probably never be certain if it’s right or wrong.
But that’s the nature of choice. Our world is not black and white, after all. It’s a shifting, ambiguous mass of gray—a twilit realm of memory and dream, truth and half-truth. A world where monsters cry and angels carry switchblades. A world where hopes and dreams are formed by chemicals in organs resembling lumps of cauliflower, and where pain and beauty are so tightly intertwined that you can’t pick them apart. This gray world is all we have.
I look down at Steven’s hand in mine.
Maybe it’s enough.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It’s been a long journey, and I wouldn’t have made it this far without the support of many wonderful people:
To my agent, Claire Anderson-Wheeler, for believing in Mindwalker, and for all her hard work and brilliant feedback.
To my editor, Melanie Cecka—and the entire team at Knopf—for helping me polish this book and whip it into the best possible shape.
To Mel, my writing buddy and kindred spirit, for reading and critiquing the story in its earliest form, and for all the late-night chats about food, philosophy, fiction, and altered states of consciousness.
To Beth, for sharing my warped sense of humor and my taste in wine and cartoons (both the good ones and the so-bad-they’re-good ones), and for sticking with me through the years.
To my grandma, for telling me stories when I was little and thus igniting my love of fiction.
To Mom, Dad, and Rusty, for their love, support, and encouragement, and for being an unusual family—in the best possible way.
And to Joe, for giving me more than he’ll ever know. You’re the best. I love you.