We ran into the trees, keeping an eye on each other. I found a safe spot and watched him until he managed to disappear. I kept as still as I could, hoping I would hear him before I felt his ammo. The landscape out here was different than it was back home. It was so flat here, though covered with forests of spindly maple trees. The palm trees of Huntington were tall and thick, soaking in the hot sun all year round and thriving in it. Was it winter that made these trees grow like undernourished sticks? I hadn’t been in a true winter, so I guess I would find out.
One thing was for certain, the leaves that were beginning to turn color were amazing. I could see the beginnings of the golds and reds that people were always talking about. I didn’t care for the cold, but I could see why fall was captured in photos all the time.
The scent of burning wood drifted on a light breeze.
A sharp pain bit my arm and I turned around. Too late, Noah had snagged me. I heard him, crushing through the dried twigs and leaves on the forest floor. He was moving away, but I knew which direction. Rubbing my arm, I moved to follow him.
Another figure came running towards the trees, yelling out an attack cry. I squinted. It was Kyle. I shrank into the trees, watching him. He had no
Yurei
self. Still. Whatever was going to take his future remained.
I couldn’t bring myself to shoot either of them. How could I choose between and Kyle’s mysterious lack of a destiny? I wanted to save them, not plaster them with paint.
But if I didn’t live with them in the present I would have no memories of them at all.
My arm was splattered with blue from Noah’s first shot. It was drying quickly. I raised my rifle sights and caught Kyle in my crosshairs. He was hard to see in a brown sweat-shirt and dark jeans, but I found him. Okay, I couldn’t shoot him. I searched for Noah and caught a glimpse of his green eyes. Bam. My yellow paintball splattered the tree next to him and I heard him laughing.
A thud hit me in the back and I turned to see the disappearing figure of Kyle running away. I chased after Kyle and squeezed the trigger. I missed. He turned to look at me with a hollow smile, his eyes glinting darkly.
It was the first time I had seen his face today. There was a ferocious hatred in his eyes instead of the sadness MacKenzie talked about.
He raised his gun and shot me. I let the paintball hit me, taking a step backward with the impact. He raised his gun again and I still didn’t move, another paintball making its mark.
He lost his smile then, staring at me. The gun hung from my hands and we stood there. Neither of us spoke.
Suddenly it pissed me off. I wanted to know what would his future would be. I’d never pushed against the
Yurei
or the knowledge that came to me, but I did it now. Like a closed door, I could feel there was more to know on the other side.
I pushed hard and for a moment I was afraid, the fear of stepping in a place I didn’t belong, but I kept going. It felt like the breath was being sucked out of me for a moment, and then there was a
Yurei
for Kyle. He was definitely different.
He was older, still a good-looking guy but in a distinguished way. His hair was short and there was an awareness in his eyes that drew me in. He was strong and…okay. Somehow he would survive this twisted part of his life and become someone else. All at once I understood. This confident, capable
Yurei
was the real Kyle, not the tortured guy in front of me. The new, wise Kyle was what he was meant to be, what he could be, if he let himself.
The present Kyle smiled, an eerie stretch of his mouth that never reached his eyes and put the gun to his chest. He pulled the trigger. The gun hissed, jerking him back a little, and the paintball exploded against his vest. The green paint made a small mark, too close to splatter.
Noah suddenly jumped out from behind us. He narrowed his eyes at Kyle, smirking. “Dude, why’d you shoot yourself?”
“Because,” Kyle said, the weird smile still on his face, “It was the only way the expert marksman here was going to hit me.”
Noah sighed at me. “You ready to play for real now?”
“Shut up and move,” I said, and we all scattered. I popped off a few hits and redeemed myself, but I was still distracted. The emptiness in Kyle’s face as he pulled the trigger remained in my head. Both of us knew Kyle was going to kill himself, but only one of us cared. Somehow I had to make him see what I did. How could I do the impossible?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MacKenzie
I smiled, and then blinked in the flash.
Mom peered into the camera screen. “Oh, you’re so beautiful!”
She held the camera out so Dad could see. “Look honey, isn’t that a great picture of her?”
He bent his head over the screen and they both shared the view, Mom waiting for his reaction. He gave a little Dad-smile, staring at the image for a few moments and then looked back up me.
“Gorgeous.”
“Oh, Dad,” I said, flipping my hair and acting like a starlet caught in a flood of paparazzi cameras.
Mom snapped the pose. “That’s perfect!”
I’d decided to keep my hair straight and sleek. With a little sparkly eye shadow and this dress, I felt pretty and special.
We scanned through the pictures, all twenty or thirty of them, picking out our favorites. I wished Ren was there, but he and I decided it would be awkward for Noriko and Steve to drive to the dance together without him. Noriko wouldn’t mind going as a group, but she certainly did not consider Steve a date.
“Okay, let’s go!” I said, suddenly realizing how good Ren was going to look in a suit.
The night was clear with the scent of frost in the air, a little too cold for my thin sweater but I didn’t care. I stepped out of the back door in my heels, my long black dress silky against my bare legs and the taste of lipstick on my lips. A breeze teased at my hair, rushing for a moment against my face. The backyard was dark and I could barely see the outline of the swingset next to the shed and the giant old magnolia. Goodbye, Backyard. I’m going to my first Homecoming Dance.
Tonight in my dress and my makeup I was living a childhood princess fantasy. Dad slammed the back door shut as he came behind me, ruining the moment. Well, it was almost like a fairytale. My stagecoach was only my Dad and his truck, but there was a prince waiting for me. It was good enough.
It was only a five minute drive to the school. I texted Ren on the way and he said he was already there, waiting out front. I checked myself in the rearview mirror, to Dad’s amusement.
“Yep. You’re still as beautiful as you were two seconds ago,” he said.
I stuck my tongue out at him, stealing a look at myself as I did it.
The car slowed to the curb where Ren was waiting and I realized my palms were clammy. That made me even more nervous. I hoped Ren didn’t notice.
Dad jumped out of the car and opened my door for me like a chauffer, holding out his hand to help me get out of the car.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said and kissed his cheek.
Ren wore a dark suit coat and tie and tan pants, crisp and formal. His hair was a little tamer than usual.
He was familiar and strange at the same time, and I almost forgot to be nervous, fascinated by his unexpected elegance. I hadn't known what to expect from him. Would he would try to be edgy and wear a jacket and tie with jeans or go all out with a tux? He didn’t do either one, perfect and relaxed.
Dad shook hands with Ren, the two of them eye to eye, my dad stocky and solid to Ren’s slim and angular confidence.
“Hello, Mr. Warren.”
“Hi Ren. How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“Great.” My dad looked over at me and I gave him my look. He knew it was time to leave—or else.
“Well, I’ve got to go. Have fun, honey,” Dad said and I waved to him as he got in the car.
As we stepped toward the school doors Ren said, “You look beautiful.”
I smiled and the blood rushed to my cheeks. It’s what I hoped he would say. I didn’t know if he actually thought I was beautiful, but maybe he wasn’t just being polite. Maybe I was.
“Thank you. And you are…” I struggled for the right word. I finally settled for something my mom would say, only because it was true. “…handsome. Really. You look amazing in a suit and tie.”
“Thanks. I haven’t worn one in a while.” His eyes were so dark, almost black in the harsh parking lot lights high overhead.
I tugged at his tie, an excuse to touch him. “Did you tie it yourself?”
“Of course,” he said, and put his arm around my waist. “I can also tie my own shoes, if you’d like a demonstration.”
“Well, only if the dance gets boring.”
I could feel the heat of his palm on my waist through the dress. I didn’t know if I should put my arm around him too, but trying to figure out how to do that gracefully was too bewildering, so I didn’t.
A breeze swept over us and I shivered. “You’re cold?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not really,” and clamped my teeth to stop them from chattering.
He dropped his arm from my waist and took my hand in his, quickening his pace. Once inside the school its warmth enveloped me and he held both my hands, laughing at me.
“Better?”
“Yes,” I admitted. The entrance of the school wasn’t decorated, other than a table near the doors where a few teachers were taking tickets. There were a few groups milling around, their voices echoing off the walls and rebounding the nervous laughter of the girls and the bravado of the boys.
“Oh, I love your dress!” a familiar voice exclaimed.
I turned to find Noriko behind us, with Steve. Her pale pink dress was a thick satin that swirled out from her hips and her eyes were luminous, deep, richly accented in exotic black eyeliner. Her silky black hair was swept up, with one strand hanging down the curve of her face and touching her chin. She was stunning.
“Holy Cannolis, Noriko!” I said.
She smiled, as soft and pink as her dress. “Do you like it?”
“You are gorgeous!”
Steve, stood behind her, stiff and awkward in his black suit and tie.
“Steve, you look nice,” I said. I kept it short and sincere. I was too afraid of Steve’s intelligence to lie to him, but I knew he wanted approval as much as the rest of us.
He grinned a little and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from me, but the rest of us could see he was shyly pleased.
“Thank you. You look nice. Chic,” he said, pronouncing chic correctly.
Noriko quirked her eyebrow at me and mouthed, “Chic?”
I widened my eyes and shrugged. I asked the others, “Has the dance started?”
The bass boomed from the doors, but I wasn’t referring to music. Dances didn’t start until everyone was comfortable and started actually…dancing. The DJ usually had to coax everyone out to the dance floor.
“Sort of. Let’s go inside,” Ren suggested.
We handed our tickets to the teachers at the table and went inside the throbbing, dark gym. There was a giant cardboard Eiffel Tower in the middle of the dance floor, strung with lights. Garden trellises and little tables lined the walls and the ceiling was covered in small lights. It hardly looked like the gym at all, if you didn’t look down at the floor. There were a lot of people--girls in dresses that varied from sweet and light to shocking, bright and sexy. The boys were just as varied, from stiff and formal like Steve to punk with a faint nod to the occasion. Suddenly I didn’t feel as pretty, swarmed by the glitter around us.
Ren took my hand and squeezed it. I looked up at him and he put his forehead down to mine. “Thanks for coming with me.”
I was too thrilled to do more than stare back at him, our eyes so close I could see the dark brown of his irises circling his widened pupils. He smelled so good…I breathed in his scent, intoxicated by his nearness. He moved closer and I stopped breathing. He rubbed my nose with his and I laughed, but he never broke the gaze that made my knees feel weak.
He pulled me through the crowds, holding me firmly by the hand. I looked back at Noriko. Several girls watched her enviously and the boys stared with a puzzled look. I knew what they were thinking—who was she? It was like witnessing a butterfly emerge from its cocoon.
Steve lurched along behind her, his gaze roaming around the dance moves and coy glances as if he were decoding an algorithm.
The floor had a few dancers on it, but Ren took us to a table.
“I hate dancing without a crowd,” he explained, and he sounded apologetic.
“Me too,” I assured him.
Noriko checked her phone and stood up to look around, explaining, “Crystal is here with her date. She’s trying to find us.” We all turned in different directions, trying to see her. Steve spotted them first.
Crystal waved to us from across the room. Her dress plunged down in the front, her chest straining against the fabric. She was grinning like a kid on the first day of summer, though, apparently unaware of all the guys who were trying not to stare. She reached us, breathless and obviously proud of her date. He was tall with stringy, long blond hair and he looked uncomfortable in his suit.