I know I shouldn’t think about Grayson, but it’s impossible not to, sometimes. It’s not just that I loved him a lot. It’s not just that I didn’t get a choice in giving him up, or that I can remember every little detail of him. It’s almost like he’s become a symbol of my old life, and by thinking about him, I’ve still got some tiny portion of it I can cling onto. As long as I have Grayson, Celestra Caine hasn’t been completely replaced by Celeste Channing.
Then, at a party for a movie I’ve never heard of, it happens. Jack has gone to get us drinks, while I talk to the star of the thing, who turns out to be a lot sweeter than the character she plays onscreen, and who seems to have latched onto me as a way of steering clear of a clutch of airheads who appear to be determined that she should join their ranks for the evening.
“Your boyfriend seems wonderful,” she says.
And just for a moment, in spite of all the time I’ve spent playing this role, in spite of all the times I’ve kissed Jack, I don’t get it. I find myself thinking of Grayson, and how he
is
wonderful, and how I’ll never get to tell him that again.
“My… boyfriend?”
“Jack. Celeste, are you okay? You seem to be crying.”
I realize that I
am
crying, and I quickly make some stupid excuse about allergies before running to Jack and demanding that he get me out of there. He does, not even asking why once we’re safely clear of the place. I don’t know what the people there must have thought. That I was the usual crazy model type, I guess.
Right then, I don’t care. Instead, I just know that I have to do something about this collection of unresolved feelings before it destroys me. I can’t go on like this, not knowing who I am. I need some kind of closure. And for that, I know, with absolute certainty, that I need one thing.
I need to see Grayson again.
EIGHT
I
get my chance a couple of days later. That probably makes it sound like an escape attempt from some kind of prison, but at the time, that’s what it feels like. Getting to see Grayson means dodging Jack, after all, and he watches me almost constantly. It’s not like I can just tell him that I’m going to the mall and then sneak off.
Instead, my chance comes at the start of a modeling shoot. Jack’s hanging around in the studio, but it’s not like he can actually be in the changing room, and it turns out that there’s another door. I see that combination, and I just know that I have to act. If I don’t do this now, with such a perfect opportunity, I never will. So I slip out of that door, head downstairs, and take the car. I drive almost without stopping, heading out along the highways for Virginia. Heading home.
Heading for my old high school, at least. My family wouldn’t remember me even if I could find them, but Grayson will. Not that I plan to talk to him. I’m not that stupid. Changed as I am, he probably won’t even recognize me. I just want to see him out on the track, and know that he’s okay, and… I don’t know, say goodbye even though he can’t hear me, or something.
I’ve timed my trip perfectly, because I get to the school track just in time for practice. I slip into the bleachers, down in the corner where nobody’s likely to look, and I just watch. My phone rings, the way it’s been ringing for most of the trip. Jack. I ignore it. If I answer, he’ll want to know what’s going on and where I am, and I’ll be back in that life. I’m not quite ready for that yet.
I’d forgotten what Grayson looks like when he runs. He’s athletic, but it’s more than that. There’s something graceful about him as he strides out with the rest of the team, keeping within himself, running for distance. I could watch him forever like that. There’s something wrong though. I can see it. I know what Grayson looks like when he’s running well and this isn’t it. He’s fast, but usually, he’s so much faster.
When a few of the rest of the team start to pass him, our coach even calls him on it, drawing him over to the side of the track nearest me to demand an explanation. I can’t hear the whole conversation, but I hear “effort”, “not yourself”, and “Georgetown” clearly enough. It’s obvious what Coach is saying. Grayson is running badly. Badly enough that it could affect his chances of a scholarship.
It’s enough to leave him looking dejected as he walks away. It’s enough to leave me feeling almost as bad. Have I done this to him? I realize in that moment that I shouldn’t have come here. Seeing Grayson like this hasn’t helped me to put thoughts of him aside. Instead, it has just shown me how much my leaving has hurt him.
I know then that I need to get out of there. Turn around, walk away, and get back to New York. Call Jack to let him know I’m fine. I need to do all of it. I make my way down from the bleachers and start back towards my car. It’s only then that I see Grayson standing there, looking straight at me. I turn, walking quicker, but it’s too late.
“Celes?”
I break into a run without thinking about it, heading out across the park near the school. It’s a stupid move, I know, but right then, I simply can’t face Grayson. Only I’m going to have to, because he’s chasing me, and he’s always been able to run faster than me. In fact, I’ve barely gone fifty yards before he catches up with me, colliding with me so that we both tumble to the ground in a heap.
He looks at me then, staring in shock and, I realize, embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought… I thought you were somebody else.”
He doesn’t recognize me. It seems that all those technicians back in the desert did a pretty good job. Yet having Grayson so close and not know that it’s me is hardly something to make me happy, particularly not with the way Grayson’s face falls as we both make our way back to our feet.
“I’m really sorry,” he repeats. “It was just that, sitting there, walking, you reminded me so much of-”
I can’t bear to hear him say my name. Not now. Without thinking, I reach up to touch his face. “It’s fine,” I say, even though it really isn’t fine, not then. “People make mistakes.”
“Even your voice…” Grayson begins, and then pauses, looking at me closely. It’s like what he’s seeing doesn’t match what he knows he should be seeing. “Celes?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is. I’m not who you think I am.”
That hurts me just to say it, but it seems to hurt Grayson more. He kind of folds in on himself, sitting down on the grass and I want to reach out to hold him, but I know I can’t.
“I’ve been searching for my girlfriend for weeks,” he says, “and it’s like she just vanished. It’s not like her at all. She wouldn’t just leave me a text message breaking up with me. Celes wouldn’t do that, she would talk it out with me before that.” Grayson shakes his head. “Something’s happened to her, and I have to find out. I have to find her…”
“Gray-” That syllable escapes before I can stop it.
“What?” Grayson looks up.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Look, I’m not who you think I am, but I hope you do move on. Whoever your girlfriend was, she’s not worth moping for, if she dumped you the way you said she did. Move on, get a new girl…” I can’t finish that. I know I should want Grayson to be happy, should want him to find someone who can take some of this pain away, but the thought of him with someone else just isn’t one I can stomach.
It doesn’t seem like one Grayson can handle either. He stands. “If you knew Celes, you would know she’s worth everything to me. I loved her… so much. I still love her.”
I reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, and Grayson reacts, turning it into a hug. I’ve missed those hugs. But when he jerks back, I know something’s wrong.
“You even smell like her.”
I don’t answer, but walk for my car. Grayson follows. And it’s then that I notice the car that’s parked just a little way from us. It’s a black sedan, which is unsubtle enough in itself. You’d think that people would pick something else for stake outs. The fact that there are a couple of guys in it just staring at us makes it even clearer. Someone has found me.
“Oh no. No, no,
no.
”
“What?” Grayson asks.
Are they here because Jack has sent them to pick me up? He’d be able to track my phone, right? Probably even my car. Somehow though, I know he hasn’t sent them. Jack would have come himself.
The two men get out of the car. They’re dressed in black, the same way the men from Jack’s apartment were. I try to work out which way to play this. I could run, but if they’re armed, then I’ll just be a perfect target. Or I can play it cool and hope that my disguise holds. That sounds like the better option by far.
I turn to Grayson. “Thank you, sir, for telling me how to get back to the highway. I guess I’m more lost than I thought.”
I walk for my car then, hoping it will be enough, but I can’t resist a glance back. That’s when I see that one of the two men has taken hold of Grayson’s wrist and is dragging him towards the black sedan.
I’m not sure about what happens next. I react purely on instinct, knowing that I have to help. I run over, grab the arm that’s holding Grayson, and twist it so violently that the man yelps as he lets go. His partner’s eyes widen for a moment, and he charges towards me. It just seems so natural then to move slightly to the side and push. The results of that are not what I expected. The man goes flying. Literally flies through the air, to land with a crash on the windshield of his own car.
His partner has recovered enough by then to swing an elbow at me, and I dodge back, bringing my foot up automatically, swinging it as hard as I can between his legs. He goes down, whimpering.
I reach out to grab Grayson’s arm then, knowing what I have to do. “Come on, Grayson! We have to run.”
“Run?”
“They’ll be after you too, now.”
Grayson looks puzzled. “What’s going on?”
That response is understandable, but there isn’t time. Already, the one I’ve kicked looks like he might be starting to recover.
“Come on, unless you want to face these two again. And for all we know, they brought friends. Trust me, Grayson.”
That’s enough to get him moving, at least. We get in the car.
“You still haven’t told me what’s going on,” Grayson says.
I take a breath. “If you want to go back to your normal life, you have to trust me and promise not to say anything to anyone.”
“Trust you? I don’t even…” then he looks at me. Really looks at me. I can practically feel Grayson stripping away the layers of disguise in his mind. We don’t have time. I put the car in gear and drive, as fast as I dare, wanting to put distance between us and the men behind us. We’ve gone maybe half a block before Grayson finally says it.
“Celes.”
Maybe it’s just that I’m concentrating on the road this time, or maybe I’m finally ready to give in to it, but I turn to Grayson as he says it, responding to the name.
“It is you,” he says. “I knew it. I…” He leans over to kiss me, which I’m sure is some kind of traffic safety violation, but right then, I don’t care. I just care about the familiar taste of those lips on mine, and that way Grayson has of being exactly what I need so that I can shut out the-
I swerve just in time to miss an oncoming SUV, and decide that there will be time for kissing him later. At least, I hope that there will.
“Celes,” Grayson says, pulling back. “What’s happening? Why are there people attacking you? Why did you disappear? Why do you look… like that?”
I just smile. “I’ve missed you too, Grayson.”
NINE