Dark Angel; The Chosen; Soulmate (7 page)

Gillian waved to David—after a sharp nudge from Angel. “I think it's called a car,” she said to Amy. “I forgot. He said he'd drive me to school. So—I guess I should go with him. See you!”

It only made sense to go with David; after all, he
had
asked first. Besides, Amy's driving was life threatening; she sped like a maniac and wove all over the road because she couldn't see without her glasses.

It should have been satisfying. After all, yesterday Amy had stood
her
up for a guy—and a guy like Eugene Elfred. But right this moment Gillian was too scared to be smug.

This was it. David was going to see her new self. And it was all happening too fast.

(Angel, what if I faint? What if I throw up?
That's
going to make a great first impression, isn't it?)

(Keep breathing, kid. Breathe. Breathe. Not that fast. Now smile.)

Gillian couldn't quite manage a smile as she opened the car door. Suddenly she felt exposed. What if David thought she was cheap or even freakish? Like a little girl dressed up in her mom's clothes?

And her hair—all at once she remembered how David had touched it yesterday. What if he
hated
it?

Trying to breathe, she slipped into the car. Her coat came open as she sat down. She could hardly make herself look toward the driver's seat.

But when she did, her breath stopped completely. David was wearing a look that she'd never seen on any guy's face before, at least not directed toward her. She'd seen it, occasionally, when guys were looking at other girls, girls at school like Steffi Lockhart or J.Z. Oberlin. A stricken gaze, a compulsive movement of the throat, an expression that almost made you sorry for them. An “I'm lying down and I don't care if you walk on me, babe,” expression.

David was looking at
her
that way.

Immediately all her fear, including the little stab induced by Amy, was swept away. Her heart was still pounding and
little waves of adrenaline were still going through her, but now what it felt like was excitement. Heady, buoyant anticipation. As if she had started on the roller coaster ride of her life.

David actually had to shake himself before he remembered to put the car in gear. And then he kept sneaking glances at her out of the side of his eye.

“You did something to your… and your…” He made a vague motion near his own head. Gillian's gaze was caught by his hand, which was strong, brown, long-fingered, and handsome.

“Yeah, I cut my hair,” she said. She meant to sound careless and sophisticated, but it came out shaky, with a little laugh at the end. She tried again. “I figured I didn't want to look too young.”

“Ouch.” He made a face. “That's my fault, isn't it? You overheard that stuff yesterday. What Tanya and I said.”

(Tell him you've been thinking of doing it for a while.)

“Yeah, but I've been thinking of doing it for a while now,” Gillian said. “It's no big deal.”

David glanced at her as if to say
he
disagreed with that. But it wasn't a disapproving glance. It was more like electrified awe… and a sort of discovery that seemed to grow every time he looked at her.

“And I never saw you at school?” he muttered. “I must've been blind.”

“Sorry?”

“No, nothing.
I'm
sorry.” He drove in silence for a while. Gillian forced herself to stare out the window and realized they were on Hillcrest Road. Strange how different the landscape looked today. Yesterday it had been lonely and desolate; this morning it seemed harmless, and the snow looked soft and comfortable, like old cushions.

“Listen,” David said abruptly. He broke off and shook his head. And then he did something that absolutely amazed Gillian. He pulled the car to the side of the road—or at least as far to the side as he could get it—they were still in the flow of traffic—and parked it.

“There's something I have to say.”

Gillian's heart now seemed to be beating everywhere, in her throat and her fingertips and her ears. She had a dreamlike sensation that her body wasn't solid anymore, that she was just a floating mass of heartbeat. Her vision shimmered. She was… waiting.

But what David said was unexpected. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“I—yes.” Of course she did. Four years ago; she'd been twelve and tiny for her age. She'd been lying on the ground beside her house, making snow angels. Kind of childish, sure, but in those days a stretch of new snow had affected her that way. And while she was lying on her back, arms out, making the imprint of the angel's wings, a tree branch above her decided to shrug off its load of snow. Suddenly her face was covered in
damp, closely packed coldness and she couldn't breathe. She came up spluttering and gasping.

And found herself steadied. Something was holding her, wiping her face gently. The first thing she saw when she got her vision back was a brown hand and a lean brown wrist. Then a face came into focus: high strong bones and dark, mischievous eyes.

“I'm David Blackburn. I just moved in over there,” the boy said. He was wiping her face with his fingers. “You'd better be careful, snow princess. Next time I might not be around.”

Looking up at him, Gillian had felt her heart explode and leak out of her chest.

And she'd walked away on air, even though he'd patted her head after releasing her. She was in love.

“Well, back then, I sort of got the wrong impression,” David was saying. “I thought you were a lot younger and more—well, more
fragile
than you are.” There was a pause, and then he said wonderingly, not quite looking at her, “But, it's like, there's so much more to you. I started realizing that yesterday.”

Gillian understood. David didn't have a reputation for being wild for nothing. He liked girls who were bold, dashing, out there. If he were a knight, he wouldn't fall in love with the pampered princess back at the castle. He'd fall in love with a female knight, or maybe a robber, somebody who could share the Adventure with him, who'd be just as tough as he was.

Of course he had a strong protective streak. That was why he rescued maidens in distress. But he didn't
go
for the maidens who needed rescuing.

“And now,” David was saying. “Now, I mean, you're…” He held his hands up in a whoa motion. He wasn't looking at her at all.

In a moment of perfect bliss, Gillian thought, I'm cool.

“You're kind of incredible,” David said. “And I feel
really
stupid for not noticing that before.”

Gillian couldn't breathe. There was something between her and David—a kind of quivering electricity. The air was so thick with it that she felt pressure all over her. She had never been so awake before, but at the same time she felt as if most of the world was insubstantial. Only she and David were real.

And the voice in her head seemed very far away. (Uh, dragonfly, we've got company. Incoming.)

Gillian couldn't move. A car drove by, swerving to avoid the Mustang. Gillian couldn't see well through the Mustang's steamed-up windows, but she thought faces were looking at her.

David didn't seem to notice the car at all. He was still staring at the gearshift, and when he spoke his voice was very quiet. “So I guess what I'm saying is, I'm sorry if anything I said hurt your feelings. And—I see you now.”

He raised his head. And Gillian suddenly realized he was going to kiss her.

Gillian felt triumph, wild excitement—and something deeper. An emotion she couldn't describe because there weren't any ordinary words for it. David was looking at her, and it was almost as if she could see
through
his dark eyes. As if she could see inside him… see the way things looked to him…

What she felt was a little like discovery and a little like déjà vu and a little like waking up and suddenly realizing it's Christmas. Or like being a kid lost in a strange place, cold and bewildered, and then suddenly hearing your mother's voice. But it really wasn't like any of those things; it was
more
. Unexpected welcome… strange recognition… the shock of belonging…

She couldn't quite put it all together, because there was nothing like it in her experience. She'd never
heard
of anything like this. But she had the feeling that when David kissed her, she'd figure it all out and it would be the revelation of her life.

It was going to happen—now. He was moving closer to her, not fast, but as if slowly compelled by something he couldn't control. Gillian had to look down, but she didn't move back or turn her face away. He was close enough now that she could hear his breath and feel him. Her eyes shut of their own accord.

She waited to feel the touch of warmth on her lips….

And then something in her mind stirred. A tiny whisper, so far back that she could barely hear it, and she couldn't tell where it came from.

Tanya.

The shock went through Gillian like ice on bare skin. Part of her tried to ignore it, but she was already pulling away, putting a hand up, turning to stare at the window.

Not
out
the window. It was too steamed up now to see anything outside. They were in their own cocoon of whiteness.

Gillian said, “I
can't
. I mean, not like this. I mean—it isn't fair, because you already—and you haven't… I mean…
Tanya
.”

“I know.” David sounded as if
he'd
been hit with ice on bare skin, or as if he'd come up from deep water and was looking around dazedly. “I mean, you're right. I don't know what I was… It just—it was like I forgot… Look, I'm sure that sounds stupid. You don't believe me.”

“I do believe you.” At least he sounded as incoherent as she did. He wouldn't think she was a total fool; her facade wasn't broken.

“I'm not that kind of guy. I mean, it looks like I am, right
here, it looks exactly like I am. But I'm
not
. I mean I never—I'm not like Bruce Faber. I don't do that. I made a promise to Tanya and…”

Oh, God, Gillian thought. And then a sort of inward scream: (Help!)

(I was wondering when you'd remember me.)

(He made her a promise!)

(I'm sure he did. They've been going together a while.)

(But that's
terrible
!)

(No, it's admirable. What a guy. Now say you've got to get to school.)

(I can't. I can't
think
. How are we going to—)

(School first.)

Dully, Gillian said, “I guess we'd better get moving.”

“Yeah.” There was a pause, and then David put the car in gear.

They drove in silence, and Gillian sank deeper and deeper into depression. She'd thought it would be so easy—just show David her new self and everything would fall into place. But it wasn't like that. He couldn't just dump Tanya.

(Don't worry about it, kid. I have a cunning plan.)

(But
what
?)

(I'll tell you when it's time.)

(Angel—are you
mad
at me? Because I forgot about you?)

(Of course not. I'm here to arrange things so you can forget me.)

(Then—because I forgot about Tanya for a while? I don't want to do anything that's wrong….)

(I'm not mad! Heads up. You're there.)

Gillian couldn't push away the feeling that he
was
mad, though. Or at least surprised. As if something unexpected had happened.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had to get out of David's car and gather herself and face the high school.

“I guess—I'll see you later,” David said as she reached for the door handle. His voice made it a question.

“Yeah. Later,” Gillian said. She didn't have the energy for anything more. She glanced back—once—to see him staring at the steering wheel.

She could see people staring at
her
as she walked to the school building. It was a new sensation and it gave her a spasm of anxiety.

Were they laughing at her? Did she look silly, was she walking
wrong
somehow?

(Just breathe and walk.) Angel's voice sounded amused. (Breathe—walk—head up—breathe….)

Gillian somehow got through halls and up stairs to her U.S. history class without meeting another student's eyes once.

There, arriving just as the bell rang, she realized she had a problem. Her history textbook, along with all her notes, was floating somewhere down toward West Virginia.

With relief, she caught Amy's eye and headed toward the back of the classroom.

“Can I share your book? My whole backpack went in the creek.” She was a little afraid Amy might be miffed or jealous at the way she'd run off with David, but Amy didn't seem to be either. She seemed more—awed—as if Gillian were some force like a tornado that you might fear, but that you couldn't get mad at.

“Sure.” Amy waited until Gillian had scooted her desk closer, then whispered, “How come it took you so long to get to school? What were you and David
doing
?”

Gillian rummaged for a pen. “How do you know we weren't picking up Tanya?”

“Because Tanya was here at school looking for
David
.”

Gillian's heart flip-flopped. She pretended to be very interested in history.

But she gradually noticed that some of the other students were looking at her. Especially the boys. It was the sort of look she'd never imagined getting from a boy.

But these were all juniors, and none of them was in the really popular clique. All that would change in Gillian's next class, biology. Half a dozen of the most popular kids would be there. David would be there—and Tanya.

Gillian felt, with a sudden chill, that she might not really care anymore. What did it matter what other people thought of her if she couldn't have David? But she had a fundamental
faith in Angel. Somehow things
had to
work out—if she just stayed calm and played her part.