18 Thoughts (My So-Called Afterlife Book 3) (17 page)

Conner sat down at the card table in his basement, swinging himself around the chair to face me over the back. “So, guess what happened at the hospital when you and Sean left?”

We’d just finished dinner, a five-course meal when it came to Erin, his mom. His parents were delighted I was spending the night, weird as that sounded. They trusted me, and they hoped my presence was a good sign things were finally going back to normal. At least, that’s what Erin whispered to me as we cleared the table together.

“They made you take some drugs?”

“Nope, they used electroshock therapy on me.” He made the announcement unflinchingly, like announcing he was taking the dog for a walk.

“What?” The only thing I knew about shock therapy came from reading
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
and watching the subsequent film in English class last year. Hollywood’s portrayal didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture.

“Turns out I wasn’t too far off with my idea of getting struck by lightning again to reverse the effects.”

I winced. “Well, I hope it was less dramatic than that.”

“It was. The doctor gave me a muscle relaxant first and put me under general anesthesia. Then they placed electrodes on my scalp, and the current caused a brief seizure. Doc said ECT is one of the fastest ways to relieve symptoms in people who suffer from mania like me. It’s used when mood or psychotic symptoms are so severe that it may be unsafe to wait until drugs can take effect or when the patient doesn’t want to take drugs. Both reasons applied to me. I’ll go back Wednesday and Friday for another session.”

I took my glasses off and polished them on the corner of my shirt so hard I thought for a moment I might break them. “You think the shock therapy helped then? Because it still sounds barbaric to me.”

“Here’s the thing: while I was having my seizure, I also had a vision. Only it didn’t feel like a vision, but rather a—”

“Memory.” I slid my lenses back on, willing my hands not to shake.

With a fixed stare, he studied me. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ll explain later. Go on.”

“Okay. Well, I sat in a prison cell, naked, with fierce cuts across my back like I’d been whipped. And you were there with some girl named Grace. I’ve never seen her before.”

My eyes went wide at the mention of her name. “And that’s it? Nothing else happened in your vision?”

He shook his head. “No, Nate was there, too. He shot you in the neck with a tranquillizer gun, and then everything went dark. Told you I thought he was connected to all this. Then I woke up, and when I did, I had that same sensation of something leaving me like the night before school started.”

I just stared at him.

Hands clasped behind his head, he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s possible,” I said slowly, spinning the Morticia Addams ring on my finger, “that we are on the edge of glancing into an alternative universe. In a sense, we may be time traveling.”

“Huh?”

This wasn’t the response he expected, and I knew how strange I sounded, but what else could be happening? It took a while to explain my two visions with Nate, in addition to my weird dream that also mentioned Grace and the memory I had of the angel earlier today in Kyle’s backyard.

“I think you’re on to something,” Conner said when I finished.

“You do?”

Giving a shrug, he laughed. “I don’t have any better explanations, and you’re much smarter than I am. What do you think we should do about it?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. “We surrender ourselves to the process. I expect things will be revealed to us in due time. Until then, we focus on everything that truly matters. We won’t give up, but we’ll trust that whatever is meant to happen will happen, and that we’ll have the strength to deal with anything that comes our way.”

Conner half closed his eyes. “Sounds easier said than done, but I’ll try to follow your lead.” Then he added a bit sheepishly, “Did you know I got tattoos?”

“Yeah, I saw it that one day at lunch, the day after you came to my house.”

He nodded and smiled. “Right. But I used the plural form.”

My eyes widened. “How many do you have now?”

“Six.”

“Six! Where?”

Standing, he ditched his shirt, dropping the material to the floor. I’d seen him shirtless countless times, but never like this. Just the two of us. Alone. In his basement/bedroom, his parents upstairs.

His abs were still ripped with muscle, but now he had two black wings inked along each side of his ribs. Conner pointed, counting, “One, two.” He trailed a finger across his bronzed chest, where two red stars hung just above his nipples that were… pierced with two gold rings.

Oh, good Lord.

“Three, four. You already know about this one.” He turned his left forearm toward me, squinting at the naked lady. “You ready for the grand finale?”

No.

He turned around; an enormous Grim Reaper took up the back of his right shoulder. “Six. What do you think?”

He still had his back to me. I stepped forward to outline the ink with my finger, his body trembling under my touch. After a few seconds, I trailed my hand down his arm and squeezed his bicep. “I think you look like a rock star.”

He bent down, picked up his discarded shirt, then slid the material over his head before walking to his dresser. “Those aren’t the only disturbing new things I’ve found.” He pulled out a contraband of
PlayBoy
magazines, a six-pack of beer, a box of cigars, and a bag of weed.

I went to him, only needing to look in his eyes for a second to know it was safe to hug him. This was
my
Conner. Dropping his head to my shoulder, he cried. Now I could count two other times I’d actually seen him cry, even though he frequently fell off bikes, skateboards, and skis while growing up.

I half pulled, half drug him over to his bed to sit down. “Conner, whatever is going on with you isn’t your fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you last week when you tried to talk to me.”

His face twisted in anguish. “I deserved to be yelled at. I was acting like a turdnugget.”

I laughed.

“I’m not joking,” he said, no trace of a smile.

“I know. It’s just, you said turdnugget.”

He shook his head, but he smiled, too. “You’re so ridiculous sometimes.”

Raising my eyebrows, I said, “This coming from the guy who jumped off Sean’s roof in eighth grade and broke his leg.”

“Hey, Sean and Kyle jumped, too, and they were fine! I’m a magnet for freak accidents, remember? I’m the King Super Freak.”

I toyed with a loose thread on his black jeans. “Yeah, I’m sure it had nothing to do with them jumping off the lowest point of the roof and you jumping from the highest.”

“That’s because I was trying to impress you.”

Turning my face up to his, I told him, “You don’t ever have to
try
to impress me.”

His blue eyes went wide. “Maybe with other girls I don’t have to try. But with you I do, and I always will.” He reached over and flipped a switch off and another one on. His lamp went dark, but the wall lit up with “I love you” spelled out in Christmas lights.

“When did you do this?”

“While I waited for you to get here.”

As he moved closer to me, his arm and leg grazed mine, making my breath hitch.

Then a knock at his sliding glass door startled us. We turned. Sucking in a quick breath, I realized Nate stood just outside, a scowl on his face.

“What is he doing here?” Conner asked, flipping the light back on.

“No idea.”

Carefully, I rose from Conner’s bed and strode across the room to answer the door. Nate’s face was hard, and I tensed for a confrontation as I opened the slider. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

I counted to thirty in my head before he finally answered. “I should ask you the same question.”

My eyes narrowed. “How’d you even know I was here?”

He tapped his forehead.

“Nate, that’s not fair. You can’t stalk me like this.”

“It’s not knowledge I’ll ignore when I find out you’re alone in a room with this monster.”

Conner leaped off his bed and joined us. I was hoping he’d extend his hand like a gentleman and formally introduce himself, since Nate had never met
my
Conner before.

“If I’m a monster, you’re a freak.”

Nate’s eyes widened, clearly surprised that Conner apparently knew about his mind reading ability. I’d half forgotten I told him about the phenomenon the night he sneaked into my room.

“And you’re crazy if you think she needs your protection. I’d get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Nate shrugged. “Guess I don’t know what’s good for me then.”

He stepped around us, walked over to the couch, then proceeded to turn on the television.

“Is this guy for real?” Conner asked me.

Ignoring his question, I went and stood in front of the television. “Conner wants me to stay the night because he’s scared of what might happen to him. This doesn’t involve you.”

“Yeah, you should go,” Conner echoed, coming over to stand beside me.

“Sorry, but his well-being isn’t really a priority for me. You are. So I’m staying.” Nate leaned back on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.

Conner knocked his feet down. “What’s your problem, man?”

Nate jumped up, getting in Conner’s face. “My problem is you only think about yourself. So you’re scared of what might happen to you? What about Olga? If you claim you have no control over your actions, then what’s stopping your monster from making an appearance later tonight and hurting her?”

The muscles in Conner’s jaw were tight as he reached into his pants for his wallet, then held out a twenty dollar bill. “Look, dude. You’ve been a loyal bodyguard and all, but Olga doesn’t need to be protected from me. I’m fine now. Your duties are done here.”

Nate took the bill from Conner and ripped it in half before letting the pieces float to the ground. “I’m gonna mess you up so bad, you freakin’ piece of sh—”

I slapped my hand over his mouth before he could finish. “You’ll do no such thing. His well-being is linked to my well-being, so you’re going to put up with him if you still want to spend time with me.”

“I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger.”

“Nate, listen. I’m thankful I have you around to protect me, and I love the way you try to keep everything calm and normal for me, but you can’t shelter me, and you need to trust my judgment.”

“I do,” Nate said, standing in front of the couch. “You don’t think like a rational, normal person when it comes to him.”

“Please, like you’ve brought a whole plate of normal to the table.” Conner’s words came out rushed, like he’d been waiting to say them all night.

I swallowed, hard. “Look, guys, I think we know normal isn’t in the cards for us this year. Can we at least agree on that?”

Nate tugged at his shirt collar. “Yep.”

“True. But I still think he’s to blame. Everything got all cuckoo when he came to town.” Conner ran a hand over his hair, studying Nate.

“So now I’m to blame for your bad behavior?” Nate pursed his lips, his eyes wide.

“Yes, you are! I was in a coma for months, and then I get you for a roomie, and as soon as you leave the hospital, I wake up. Except it’s not me who wakes up but this monster living inside me. And you can somehow read Olga’s thoughts, and now you’re trying to hook up with her and take my spot in the band?”

“I’m not trying to hook up with her. Only guys like you do that.”

“Only guys like you do that,” Conner repeated in a high voice before applauding in deliberate false fashion. “Wow, good job. That one really hurt.”

Nate shook his head. “Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t mock me.” Conner twisted his mouth in an ugly smirk.

“Go to hell.”

“Right back at ya. Or just go… anywhere.”

I threw my hands in the air. “I’ve had enough of this crap, so I’ll be the one going. Conner, why don’t you start working on all that homework you haven’t kept up with. I’ll be back in a half hour.”

Conner jutted out his chin. “Where are you going?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “For a walk. Nate, let’s go.”

“Aww, he’s going, too? But I was hoping we could have a pillow fight later and maybe braid each other’s hair.”

“Conner, do your homework.” I yanked Nate outside and then slid the door closed.

Following me around the side of the house, Nate let out a huff as if he were the one annoyed. “Olga—”

“Don’t even. You’re gonna shut up and listen to me yelling at you inside my head while I walk you home. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no. I should be walking you home.”

I turned on my heel, which enabled me to make direct eye contact so there’d be no misunderstanding. “I am spending the night at Conner’s house, not with Conner. Do you understand the difference?”

His nostrils flared. “I understand he’s on the road to nowhere good and he’s bent on taking you with him. Why do you still feel like you have to fix him?”

“Because I’m the one who broke him!” I shouted, which made the neighbors flick their porch light on. My muscles quivered; my whole body tensed.

Nate gathered me in his arms and smoothed my hair. “Hey, this isn’t the antique store downtown,” he whispered. “It’s not a if you break it, you buy it situation. I get that you feel like you were responsible for his coma. I hear your thoughts. You were the one who invited him sailing to make Tammy jealous. You didn’t make him wear a life jacket. You should’ve administered CPR earlier. Should’ve called 9-1-1 sooner. But you know what? You shouldn’t have had to make Tammy jealous. You shouldn’t have had to act like his mommy so he’d be responsible. And you dived into the freezing water to save him, risking your own life. How long are you going to live with this mantra on repeat in your head?”

I sniffled. “I’m trying not to think that way. Actually, I’ve prided myself on making strides toward that goal in the past week. You should’ve heard my thoughts right after the accident. At the time, it was hard imagining ever feeling not responsible.”

He sighed disapprovingly. “You’re lucky I came into your life when I did.”