An Unstill Life (16 page)

“We’re all going to die.” Dr. Singh’s voice was low and gentle, completely unlike his usual brisk, abrasive tone. “But, yes. I don’t believe there is much more we can do.”

Chapter Nineteen

I
hopped off the bus outside the mall just after eight on Friday night. My heart pounded in my chest, its rhythm at odds with the waltzing insects in my gut. It was a strange mixture of excitement and terror, and for a moment I couldn’t force my feet to move. I was glued to the spot, torn between my desire to see Bianca, and fear of what might happen when I did. I forced myself forward. I’d promised myself I’d go where this took me. No matter how painful the experience might be, I was going to revel in it. Jules couldn’t blaze the trail for me anymore, so it was up to me to mark my own.

Bianca waited under a flickering florescent just inside the mall’s entrance. I stood outside the sliding glass doors for a minute, watching the languid way she leaned against the wall, one foot up to rest on it. She ignored the people swirling around her, chattering and laughing. From out here, their motions appeared exaggerated because I couldn’t hear their voices. Bianca, in the midst of it, remained still, eyes fixed on a point above the crowd, an island in the sea of humanity.

I stepped forward, and the glass doors slid open with a hiss. Noise crashed over me in muddy waves, voices, music, laughter and echoing footsteps blurred together. I shook my head to clear it of the assault.

“There you are.” Bianca’s voice cut through the chaos, forcing it back to where it was nothing but a dull brown background. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“Why would I do that?” I tried to keep my tone light, casual, teasing even.

She shrugged, and her eyes tunneled into me, not looking at me so much as looking deep inside. I wondered what she saw. Could she tell how fast my heart beat? How my belly swarmed with excitement? How her eyes warmed me from the roots of my hair to the very tips of my toenails?

“So, should we go?” I wanted to take her hand, but was too shy to make such a bold move. “I mean, to the movies.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, we should.” Bianca’s cheeks pinked, and I wondered if she might be as nervous as me.

We walked the length of the mall in virtual silence. I kept trying to think of a way to break it, but any topic of conversation I thought of seemed wrong. So I remained quiet until we reached the top of the escalators leading to the movie theaters.

“Um… So what should we see?” Bianca studied the posters in their light-boxes on the wall by the box office. “What do you like?”

“I like pretty much anything. Just not action movies, you know? The ones with lots of shooting and stuff blowing up. I can’t handle those.” I glanced up at her shyly, hoping she understood.

“I guess that kind of stuff could be kind of overwhelming, huh?”

I nodded, grateful that she got it. My other friends had tried, but none of them ever understood what the sensory assault of my synesthesia could be like.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about this thing you have. The colors and stuff.” Bianca leaned against a light box, and I suppressed a giggle. Zach Efron leaned over her shoulder, looking as if he was about to lick her ear. “What?”

I pointed at the poster she’d reclined into, and she turned to look.

“We look pretty good together, don’t you think?” She struck a pose with Zach then kissed his cheek and moved away. “Seriously though. I’m trying to understand it. Does it help you at all?”

“In what way?”

“In any way. I mean, what’s it good for? It must have some purpose.”

I stared at her. No one had ever asked me that before. I’d never even asked it myself. I’d always viewed my synesthesia as a flaw, something that skewed my view of the world. It had never occurred to me it might have a use. “I guess it sometimes helps in school. Like sometimes a teacher says certain words and they come out a different color from all the other words, and I know they’re the ones I need to remember.”

“Kind of like taking notes with different colored pens, huh?”

“Kind of.” Explaining was impossible. “It not quite that simple though. And it doesn’t always work. It would be awesome if it did.” I wondered if I could train myself to use it more effectively. Maybe then I’d get better grades. I’d always found the colors a distraction at school, so many in one place, competing for my attention.

“Whatever.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I think it’s cool, even if it doesn’t have any obvious value. I mean, even if it’s only helping your art, it’s awesome. Now, have you decided what movie we’re gonna see?”

In the darkness of the theater, I was very aware of Bianca’s body beside me. Her elbow rested next to mine on the armrest and its heat made my forearm tingle. Shifting in my seat, I let my arm slide closer, the fine hairs on mine tangling with the hairs on hers. My arm buzzed as an electric sensation moved through me, making every inch of my body alive and ultra-aware.

Bianca turned to look at me. Her eyes glinted in the flickering light coming from the screen. Her arm pressed harder against mine, her body heat becoming a part of me. I flicked my eyes back toward the movie. Her hand wrapped around my fingers and squeezed gently. I squeezed back, thankful for the darkness, knowing my face would be bright red. If Hannah saw us… It didn’t bear thinking about.

We didn’t do anything but hold hands, yet it felt illicit and dangerous. Her palm was soft and grew slightly damp the longer we held onto each other. I didn’t pull away though. The gentle pressure of her fingers made my heart swell. I became aware of an emptiness somewhere deep inside, a gnawing sense of longing. It excited and frightened me at the same time. Was this what falling in love felt like?

My whole head burned now, and I wanted it to stop before the movie ended and the lights came up. I fixed my eyes on the screen. I hadn’t paid attention to the movie at all and had no idea what was going on. A woman lay in a hospital bed, dark hair spread across the white pillow in artful disarray. Machines droned and beeped alongside her while a handsome man knelt and wept with his head resting on her hand. The piercing sound of the machine flat-lining sent a bolt of blue across my vision. The man’s crying turned to moans. He stood and pounded at the shrilling machine with his fists, beating at the hunks of glass and metal until his knuckles were raw and bleeding.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bianca leaned toward me, the hand not entwined with mine reaching up to push my hair aside.

I shook my head and ducked so she wouldn’t see the tears gushing from my eyes. I should’ve paid more attention to what movie we’d come to see. It wasn’t the right time to see this one. I glanced back at the screen, warped now by my tears, and saw me and Jules in that room.

The lump constricting my throat melted. I was really crying now, and couldn’t stop. I doubled over and tried to quiet the sobs in my knees.

“Oh, shit, Livvie. I’m sorry.” Bianca knelt on the sticky, popcorn-strewn floor and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”

I leaned into her, burying my face in her neck. Her pulse beat a regular tattoo against my cheek, and her hair tickled my chin. She smelled of apple shampoo and something darker and muskier, a scent that spoke of danger. I breathed it deep into me as I worked to control my sobs. The tears slowed, grief replaced by something much more primal. I pulled Bianca closer. Her breasts pressed against my chest. She was near enough so I could feel her heart beating counterpoint to mine. Sliding down in the seat, I raised my head and found her mouth with my lips.

This kiss was nothing like the ones we’d shared outside the gallery. This one was serious. Hungry. We slid down onto the filthy floor and crouched there amongst the abandoned Coke cups and moldering popcorn kernels. The scattering of other filmgoers could have been on another planet for all the attention we paid them.

Bianca’s hands crept under my T-shirt. They were warm against my skin and sent shockwaves rippling through me. I fumbled with her dress, plunging my fingers down the front to fondle the damp chasm between her breasts.

Somewhere beyond us, orchestral music swelled to a crescendo. How cheesy. The thought was vague and unfocused. Bianca’s long fingers smoothed their way across my stomach, her little finger brushing across the waistband of my low cut jeans, tracing the raised scars on my hip. I couldn’t think. My mind was nothing but a red-hot pool of desire.

It took us several minutes to realize the lights had come up and the credits were rolling. People rose and left their seats, ignoring our entwined bodies as they exited the theatre. I pulled away and tugged my rumpled T-shirt straight. My knees stuck to the red and gold patterned carpet and made a disgusting sucking sound when I pulled myself off the floor to sit in my seat once more. When I touched my jeans, my fingers came away tacky with something I had to tell myself was just spilled Coke.

“Found it!” Bianca cried too loudly, waving a coin at me in an exaggerated gesture. Her face was pink, her lipstick smeared.

“Oh, good,” I played along. “I wouldn’t have been able to get home without it.”

Nobody even glanced our way.

I reached out a hand to help Bianca to her feet. She took it and collapsed into her chair once more. The theater was empty now, the last credits rolling off the top of the screen. We watched them disappear, not looking at each other, our breathing returning to normal. I pushed my hair out of my face and risked a glance in her direction. Her dress hung down on one side and her shoulder peeked out from a twisted black sleeve. I stood up and straightened it for her, tugging the slippery fabric back up over her smooth, white flesh.

I’d crossed a line. I wasn’t sure what line it was, or why it was there, but I knew, as the lights came up full, that I’d moved into new territory. Bianca squeezed my hand and stood up too, leading me out of the brightened cinema without a word.

We walked through the mall in silence. The pressure of her hand on mine was enough. Words would have spoiled it. I could still taste her on my lips, could feel the places her hands had seared my skin. My whole body was alive, vibrating, as parts that had lain dormant for years awakened. The sterile brightness of the mall grated on me and made me feel raw and exposed. I wanted to crawl back into the syrupy darkness of the theater again.

“You want to go get a coffee or something?” Bianca paused near the doors.

I shook my head. “I just want to be alone with you.” I couldn’t believe I’d said the words. I meant them, but to say them aloud? Heat rose to my face again, and I ducked my head to hide the furious blush I knew was blooming.

Bianca stopped walking and stood in front of me. She put a hand under my chin and tipped my face up to hers. For a long time she searched my face, those blue eyes x-raying my soul. Then she smiled. “If you mean it, I know a place.”

I stepped further across the line. I left the line in the dust. “I mean it.”

Chapter Twenty

I
t was all about Bianca. Her name was on my lips when I fell asleep at night and was the first thing in my mind upon waking. I lived for the stolen moments we managed to be alone together. Lunch hours in the art room became less about painting. I craved her closeness. With her, nothing mattered, not Mom’s insistent nagging, not Jules’s deteriorating condition. Not the promise I’d made her; the promise I didn’t know I could live up to. With Bianca I could escape that grim reality, and I wanted to be with her every second.

We met before school, huddling beneath the bleachers with the smokers. Bianca tossed her cigarette aside and moved away from the cluster of kids who muttered and nodded at one another. She gestured for me to follow her into the shadowy dimness at the far end. There, behind one of the sturdy struts that held the structure, she kissed me. A stab of excitement passed through me. Our classmates stood only a few feet away. Somewhere nearby, Eddie and Mel ran circuits of the track. If they saw us… I shivered. This was so naughty. But, oh, it felt so good.

The first bell rang, shattering the moment.

“Gotta go to class.” Bianca’s breath was hot in my ear. “See you at lunch, okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak. My mouth was full of the taste of her, of cigarettes and coffee and the raspberry-sweetness that was hers alone. We walked in silence toward the buildings, not touching, although being so close without it was torture. The soft rustle of her skirt glowed a lemon yellow, while the bass thud of her boots on the ground sent spikes of maroon through my skull.

“Livvie! Over here!” Mel waved from the top of the steps.

“Go on,” Bianca whispered, brushing her fingers across mine before striding off to be swallowed by the crowd.

I took several deep breaths as I climbed the steps. My heart pounded in my chest, and I willed it to slow. “Hey, Mel.”

“Hey, yourself. Where’ve you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been around. Busy, you know? With Jules and all.” My face heated up. Good one, Livvie. Use your dying sister to cover up your wanton behavior.

“Busy?” Mel gave me a sideways glance. “You’re blushing. What have you been so busy with?”

“Oh, school and stuff. I’ve been doing a lot of painting.” Well, at least that was true. Sort of.

“You got a date for the dance yet?” Mel pushed off the wall and headed for the doors, me trailing along behind. The dance. I’d almost forgotten about it.

“I don’t think I’ll go.”

Mel stopped and stared at me. “You have to go, Livvie. It’s the Winter Formal. It’s our first real school dance. It’s like practice for the prom.”

“I just don’t think I should go. It feels wrong, what with Jules being so sick. Dances are kind of her thing, you know?” Twice in one conversation. I cringed. It was true though. Jules would have been right in the middle of organizing this dance. She would have thrown all her energy into making it the most perfect night. Instead, she lay in a hospital bed, growing thinner and weaker with every passing day, her veins collapsing under the weight of the tubes and needles plugged into them to keep her alive. They’d said she could come home, but Mom insisted on her finishing the course of chemo, despite the lack of results. Mom still clung to the idea of a transplant, still insisted that a miracle could happen and Jules wouldn’t die.

Mel’s face changed. “I’m sorry, Livvie. Of course. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay.” The sympathy in her voice was more than I could stomach. I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. Not Mel. So I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I mean, I might come. I might have a date.”

“I knew it!” Mel grinned and pulled me into a bank of lockers. “So, go on. Tell me. Who is it?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not telling.” I felt suddenly reckless.

“A secret?” Mel groaned. “That’s not fair, Livvie. Come on, spill it.”

I shook my head and smiled what I hoped was a mysterious smile. “I gotta get to homeroom. See you later, okay?” I winked.

“I’ll get it out of you.” Mel waved as she sailed on down the hall. “You know I will.”

“No, you won’t,” I whispered to myself as I slid into the classroom.

Mel didn’t leave it alone. Hannah and I met her in the corridor between classes, and she asked again. “Go on, Livvie. Who’s your date?”

Hannah’s ears pricked up. “You have a date?”

“She has someone lined up for the Formal,” Mel told her. “But she won’t say who.”

“You don’t know them,” I said. It was almost true. They knew who Bianca was, but they didn’t know her. Not the way I did.

“Someone older?” Hannah studied me, a bewildered look on her face. I’d never kept a secret from her before.

“A little,” I said. “But I might not even go. I’m not that great a dancer, you know.”

Mel laughed and gave me a stern look. “You don’t go to these things to dance, you know.”

“What?” Hannah’s head shot up, the word splashing the walls with ochre. “You don’t dance at a dance?”

“You
can
dance. But you don’t have to.” When did Mel become an expert on this stuff? She’d been to as many formals as we had: none.

“Well,” Hannah said as the bell rang, sending us scurrying to our respective classrooms. “I guess my project is to find out who Livvie’s mystery man is.”

“I’ll help!” Mel called back.

I rolled my eyes and ducked into math class. I didn’t think Mel would get too upset if she found out, but Hannah was another story. Even if she did refuse to go to Bible study with her parents anymore, she hadn’t left all that behind.

Hannah and Mel’s badgering didn’t let up. My phone burred throughout the few minutes between classes as they texted the names of prospective dates: Derek Hamilton? Finn O’Connell? Jason Davies? I didn’t bother to text back.

By lunch, I was exhausted by their questioning, and longing for Bianca’s less demanding presence.

“You look frazzled,” she commented when I threw myself down on the lumpy green couch in the corner of the art room.

“My friends are driving me nuts.” I took a deep breath, sucking back the mildewed odor of the couch along with the comforting scent of paint and turpentine and linseed oil.

“Yeah? What about?” Bianca moved around the room, setting up her easel and sorting though the canister of brushes until she found some she liked.

“The Winter Formal. They’re super excited about it, and they want me to go. I kind of hinted that maybe I had a date, and they’re all over me, trying to figure out who.”

She stepped back to lean against the cabinets, arms crossed, the tips of her brushes tickling her chin. “So, you have a date, do you?”

Boldness overcame me then, along with the need to touch her. I climbed out of the couch and moved toward her. I stopped when I was close enough to feel the heat coming from her skin. “Do I?” I reached up to wrap my hand in her hair, pulling her head down so I could kiss her.

She pulled away. “You want to go to the dance with me?”

I nodded. If I had to go, I didn’t want it to be with some awful, sweaty guy who I’d have to fake having a good time with. I’d just be thinking about Bianca and how much I wished she were there instead. I wanted to sway in the darkness, my body pressed to hers as the music enveloped us. Maybe then I could forget the elephant that stamped along two or three steps behind me, wearing Jules’s words like a banner across its massive hide.

She shoved her hair back off her face. “Livvie, I don’t think so. I don’t think it would be a good idea. For either of us. I mean, I’m out, but I don’t advertise it. People think I’m weird for a whole lot of different reasons. You go to the dance with me, you’re outing yourself. And I don’t think you’re sure enough about this to do that.”

My heart constricted again. Not sure? There were a lot of things I wasn’t sure about, but Bianca I was sure of. Girls in general, I couldn’t say. But Bianca I was sure of.

“I’m sure,” I said, reaching for her again.

She stepped away, shaking her head and putting a table between us. I stepped up to the barricade, wanting to breach it, but Bianca held up a hand to keep me where I was. “Livvie, you can’t be sure. There’s too much going on in your life right now, what with your sister and everything. If we go to the dance together, you’re putting yourself somewhere you might not want to be in a few months. Let’s just see where this takes us, okay? I like you a lot, and I want to be with you, but before you announce to the world you’re a dyke, you need to be sure.”

My shoulders dropped, and so did my eyes. She was right. My heart wanted to deny it, but I knew she was right. There was only one openly gay kid in the whole school, and poor Caleb endured more teasing than Bianca did. I’d heard rumors that he got beaten up behind the bleachers, too. That wouldn’t surprise me. Although I’d always hidden behind a mask of so-called normality, strived to appear just like everyone else, I was different, too. The whole way I experienced the world was unlike other people.

“I guess you’re right.” I sighed, sending a gust of navy blue whirling about the room. “But I really like you, too, Bianca.”

She smiled and moved around the table so we stood close to one another. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m glad.”

I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and pulled her to me again, my lips searching for hers. Kissing in the classroom was risky, but no one had ever disturbed our lunch hours before. The very illicit nature of it sent thrills of excitement through me. Or maybe it was just the softness of Bianca’s lips, the syrup clinging to her tongue.

The kiss went on and on. I stumbled backward until my spine pressed into the nubby concrete wall. Bianca’s hands roved over me, caressing my shoulders, smoothing my hair, tracing the shape of my waist. I let my own hands mirror hers and ran them over her back, moving slowly down her spine until I reached its base.

“Oh! There—” A voice speared into my consciousness. A familiar voice. Hannah’s voice. It made no sense for a second, and I thought I must be imagining it. Bianca’s weight jerked away from me. I opened my eyes and found Hannah in the doorway, staring at me.

“Oh, hi, Hannah,” I stammered, wiping at my damp lips with the back of my hand. A smear of red lipstick appeared as if by magic. “Uh…what are you doing here?”

She appeared frozen to the spot, eyes flicking from me to Bianca. The blood drained from her face, which made her freckles stand out like 3D. My own face burned. My pulse pounded in my ears so loud I was sure Hannah could hear it even from across the room.

“Livvie? What’s she doing to you?” She could barely force the question out, it seemed to stick in her throat.

“It’s okay. I… I like it.” I didn’t think it was possible for my face to blaze any hotter, but it did.

Bianca stepped up and draped her arm around my waist. I was grateful, because my legs trembled so much I wasn’t sure they’d hold me much longer. The look on Hannah’s face was terrifying. She stared at Bianca with such malice I was surprised no sparks flew. Then her gaze moved onto me, and the expression didn’t change. Fuck. This was the last thing I wanted. Mel might understand, but Hannah? No chance.

“You’re sick!” she spat. “And to think I’ve shared a bed with you. God. I want to throw up.” She turned on her heel and ran from the room.

I dropped to the floor, even Bianca’s arms around me not enough to hold me up. So much for not outing myself. It would be only minutes before Mel heard about this, and Sam. Then Eddie would hear, and from there, who knew?

“I’m sorry, Bianca,” I murmured, hugging the scored linoleum. It was cool against my throbbing face, and I lay there, unable to move.

“C’mon,” Bianca said, crouching by me and stroking my hair. “Let’s get out of here.”