Dusk (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (12 page)

Whatever.

“And at some point, whether you want to or not, you are going to talk to me about this. You don’t get to hide behind your walls for months on end this time.”

“I told you the truth yesterday.” I whispered, because it was the only way to keep the hurt from showing in my voice. I didn’t want her to know how devastated I’d been when she didn’t believe me.

“I’d like to believe you, but you’ve made that next to impossible.”

Right. And now would not be the best time to point out that she’d either forgotten or failed to notice that I really had been starting to come out of my funk.

Didn’t matter anyway. I was right back in the funk thanks to this latest drama.

“I have to leave for work now,” she said. “Do some thinking today. And maybe think about someone other than yourself.” And then she was gone.

For the briefest of moments I thought with longing about the first time I’d gone out drinking with Nikki and Courtney. Not that I missed the two of them. I certainly did not. But I couldn’t help but remember that first hit of alcohol. The burning sensation that I felt all the way down my chest. The way my limbs had begun to feel rubbery and loose. The way that all at once nothing hurt anymore. Memories didn’t stab at me like a dagger.

A shame that the means to such a blissful end had to be so dangerous. And illegal.

But no. I would not fall back into that trap. I might be miserable and lonely and all sorts of other unpleasant things for the rest of my life, but I would not be a drunk.

I at least had a choice in that.

Pushing up from the kitchen table, I grabbed a back of nacho chips and headed for the couch.

The rest of my morning consisted of meaningless reruns and junk food. Anything to keep my mind occupied with drivel rather than the mess that was my life. When thoughts of Adrian, Vivian, and my dad threatened to creep in, I slammed them back with chocolate or chips or loud music.

Mom’s suggestion that I spend the day in reflection was about as effective as trying to dry up a river with a cotton swab. I could reflect all day on Mr. Austin’s stolen items and I still wouldn’t be guilty of stealing them.

However, I was guilty of plenty, and that’s what coursed through my brain during my hours of thinking of someone other than myself. Namely, all the people I’ve hurt or pushed away.

I hid the junk food when Mom came home for lunch and pulled out a book assigned by my English teacher. She offered me lunch, in a much nicer voice than the one she berated me with this morning, but I refused and told her I wasn’t hungry. She thought I was being pouty, which was partially true, but she didn’t know about the candy and nacho chips.

The afternoon was more junk food and music, but I did manage a nap for no other reason than sheer boredom. I waffled back and forth between wishing the time would pass faster and dreading the moment Mom came home. Finally, I popped open my laptop and checked my email, for lack of anything better to do.

And found a new message from Lea.

Hello Zoe. I know the start of the school year must be busy. You must be so excited to start your senior year. I’m sure there are dances and ballgames and all sorts of fun things! I just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you and looking forward to hearing from you again. Our new computers and improved technology at the center have made it much easier to access email and the internet. I’ll be able to respond more quickly to you now. And if you don’t mind, keep a little girl named Ruby in your prayers. She is a regular here at the center. A sweet and vibrant girl. She has pneumonia and is really suffering. We are all anxious for her to recover and get her strength back. Take care and enjoy your senior year! Love, Lea.

Again, I closed the email without replying. My problems seemed so small in comparison to what Lea just described. And even though I knew in my head that wallowing in this misery was stupid and detrimental, I didn’t have the power to stop it. Lea didn’t deserve to have all of my issues dumped on her when she had so much else to focus on.

When I heard Mom’s keys in the door, an hour earlier than usual, I closed my laptop and pretended to still be sleeping. Her footsteps stopped as she came through the living room and I could tell she was looking at me lying on the couch.

She headed to the kitchen and had just set her keys on the counter when the phone rang.

From her end of the conversation, I could tell it was Mr. Burton. I sat up and rolled my eyes, quite sure he was delivering more great news. I picked up my book and tuned them out.

Mom lowered her voice. Even though I couldn’t understand her, the frustration in her tone was evident.

Great.

“That was Principal Burton,” Mom said, coming into the living room a few minutes later.

I gave a noncommittal grunt.

“Another student has a video,” she began, dropping to sit next to me on the sofa. “It’s a cell phone video of the hallway when Mr. Austin’s things were stolen. The student didn’t realize until today that he’d inadvertently taped someone putting the items in your locker. He showed it to Mr. Burton.”

It took a second for her words to sink in. When they did it was with a thud in the bottom of my stomach, a weird combination of relief and uncertainty. “So I’ve been cleared?”

She nodded. “The administration met together after school. Your punishment has been revoked, of course.” She sat down next to me. “Zoe, I’m so sorry. I wanted to believe you. I just didn’t know what to think.”

“Save it Mom.” I shook my head to stop her from continuing. “I know I’ve been a real pill for a while, but I was making an effort. It would’ve been nice to have the benefit of the doubt from someone.”

Thankfully, she didn’t respond. There was just no way I could have a conversation with her right now. My brain was still processing the fact that I was off the hook, and wondering who in the world had managed to get a cell phone video. True, the hall had been crowded, but most kids had been barreling toward the cafeteria. Of course, I’d been busy dealing with Courtney and her unceremonious stop at my locker, so it’s not like I would’ve noticed.

But I had noticed Adrian at the end of the hallway.

Adrian.

And just like that I knew what I needed to do.

“Mom, can I please have my car keys?” I figured she might feel bad enough about not believing me that she’d hand them over, at least temporarily. “Just for tonight. I’ll give them back. I just need to clear my head.”

I could tell she struggled with the idea, but even she had to admit that this latest blunder had not been mine.

Without a word, she walked to the kitchen, returning seconds later with my keys. And my cell phone.

“I ate junk food all day, so I’m not hungry. But I won’t be out late. I promise.” I thought it would be a good idea to play nice.

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

I headed for the door.

My hand was on the doorknob when her voice stopped me.

“Zoe,” she said, and I paused and turned around. “I love you. I realize it’s been far too long since I said that.”

Emotion clogged my throat, and though I’d spent the better part of the day completely pissed at her for doubting me, I couldn’t help but smile.

A
drian’s bike stood, gleaming black in the late afternoon sun, pulled to the gravel shoulder near the creek. I managed to park my car and turn off the ignition, though in my haze of urgency I didn’t remember either.

When I hit the clearing he was there. I wasn’t surprised. Nothing about him surprised me anymore.

The wind moved quietly around me, lifting my hair from my shoulders, comforting and peaceful. Even then I knew the feelings weren’t just from the pleasant breeze.

The blanket was already spread beneath the tree, two Twix candy bars and two cans of ginger ale in the middle of it. The sight of the chocolate might’ve been enough to make me groan after all I’d eaten during the day, were it not for the obvious fact.

He was waiting for me.

If I’d needed another bit of confirmation that Adrian was more than met the eye, finding him here was it.

“You knew I’d come here.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had a hunch.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned his head toward the blanket. “Come sit?”

It seemed as good a place as any to have this conversation, so I walked over and sat, not next to him this time, but across. A large part of me wanted to snuggle up beside him, the same way I had the last time we sat here, but I reminded myself I’d decided alone was the best way to go.

And there was the matter of all the questions I had.

“Mr. Burton called earlier,” I said, reaching for a ginger ale. The top popped with a satisfying fizz. “Told my mom about the video.”

He just nodded, opening his own drink.

“I know it was you.”

He smiled, lifting a shoulder in nonchalance.

“First of all, thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

“Second of all, there’s no way you could’ve made that video.” I looked directly at him, searching his eyes for any hint of explanation. “You weren’t at that end of the hall. You were in the lobby. I saw you.”

He didn’t say anything, just looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Did someone else video it and give it to you.”

He shook his head. “I did it.”

“How?” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. Sitting my drink to the side, I scooted closer, the fabric of the blanket soft beneath my legs. He hadn’t denied being in the lobby, but he insisted he’d been the one to shoot the cell phone video.

“How do you think I did it?” He scooted closer too and leaned down so we were eye to eye.

And here it was. The moment of truth.

“I think you’re something other than human.” The words left my mouth in one big rush, like if I’d hesitated in the least they would never have been voiced. I could not believe I’d just said that out loud. But how else could I describe all the things that were unexplained about Adrian and his presence in my life?

He said nothing, but the slight smile on his face and the light in his eyes told me to keep going. Naturally, he would make me pick every last detail out of him.

“The morning after the car wreck,” I whispered, halfway afraid of what his answer would be. “Were you in my bedroom, sitting on my bean bag?”

“Yes.” His answer was simple and swift.

Holy cow. Even though I’d
known
, shock zinged through me at his affirmation.

“The night I dreamed about seeing my dad at the cemetery?”

“I was there that night too. And yesterday, when you saw your dad in the bathroom at school.”

I couldn’t keep up with the spinning in my mind. How could he have known about either of those things?

Remembering the night of the car accident and those arms around me, I asked, “After the car wreck, did you get me out of the car?”

He smiled, nodded. “Yes. I took you home.”

“What are you, Adrian?” My mind spun with possibilities. The more questions he answered the more I wanted to ask, and yet it seemed so silly to put words to my suspicions. I dropped my eyes to the blanket. “Some kind of superhero? An angel?”

“Not really an angel, but there are some similarities. Angels are supernatural beings. I’m human. Just like you, but with a few… extras.”

“That doesn’t really tell me what you are.” The creek trickled softly in the background, its timbre calm and serene, and I smiled despite the crazy nature of this conversation.

“We’re called
Messengers.
”

“We?” Of course there would be more.

He nodded. “It’s not really an official title, but I guess over the years that’s just how we’ve come to think of ourselves. The best way to describe it is that we’re a sub-species of humans. We were created to
assist
in certain situations.”

Assist. Sounded like a basketball play, instead of something so huge it re-shaped your reality.

“Are you immortal?” I could not believe that just came out of my mouth.

He shook his head.

“But you have
extras
?”

“Yes.”

“When I saw you in my bedroom – both times – you were there one minute, then I blinked and you were gone. Can you make yourself invisible?”

He nodded, and my reality shifted even more. A wicked little smile tugged at his lips, like he was enjoying watching me figure it all out.

“My Pre-Cal book? The first day we met. Did you do that?”

“Yes.”

His one-word answers, while truthful, were becoming annoying. “What, you used your superpowers of invisibility to return the book to my locker?”

Adrian promptly cracked up. “When you put it like that it sounds like something out of a comic book,” he said between bursts of laughter. “But yeah, something like that.”

“Can you fly faster than a speeding bullet?” I asked. “Is that how you got the book from my house and put it back in my locker?”

“No.” He shook his head. “We don’t fly. But…”

He paused for dramatic effect, and it worked. I felt like a kid being told a bedtime story, waiting to see what happened next.