Gravity, a young adult paranormal romance (30 page)

Claire came in every once in a while to
monitor my fever. Between this and my nose, I had given them too
much to worry about lately.  

"Am I dead yet?" I asked, coughing. My lungs
felt as though they were full of nettles.  

"Don't say that," she said sternly.

"What's wrong? At least no one tried to take
off any of my body parts this time." I made hacking motions with
the side of my hand. I had a tendency to get juvenile when I was
sick.  

Claire rolled her eyes, dropping emerald green
flu pills into my palm and closing my fingers around them. Then she
whisked used tissues off of the table and the ones that had
overflowed the grocery sack propped up on the floor.

I took the pills with a swing of ginger ale. I
couldn't focus, feeling the drowsy effect taking over, and closed
my heavy eyelids.

 
I noticed the tick-tocking
of the grandfather clock in the dining room. Slight at first, so I
barely noticed a difference, then louder still. The sound warped,
and distorted, into the sound of thumping on the wall behind
me.

I was in a white corridor of doors. It was
pristine, like something in a fancy hotel. For a moment, it flashed
to a dank replica, with detritus and old leaves on the broken wood
floor. But only for a moment. Then the elegant hallway was back.
This time it stayed in place.

As I walked past each door, it disappeared
into the wall. I ran my hands along either side, and felt nothing
but smoothness beneath my fingertips. It was a sort of numb,
detached sensation, like I was just borrowing the body I was
in.

Where the corridor ended was a black door. A
strange, coppery metal symbol sat in the center. It looked so
familiar, but at the moment I couldn't place it. It looked like a
bunch of sticks.

I opened the door, and the world shifted so
that I lost my balance. I fell on the ground, with the door above
me. I stepped up and through the door, and found myself in the
caretaker's shed by the Dexter Orphanage. I walked out of the shed
and across the sprawling lawn, crossing to the gate without looking
behind me.

The thick air was hot. I walked through town,
but I didn't recognize where I was. Everything seemed just a little
off from what I knew. The world was wrong, angles tilting
precipitously, the street was black and undulating like snakeskin.
The swirling sky was violet, full of angry clouds. I heard girls
screaming, not one, but many frightened, hopeless voices. Then the
street burst into flames around me and I was sucked back into my
body.

I woke up on the couch, sucking in my breath,
sitting up. I was drenched in cold sweat, my shirt sticking to my
chest and back. But I felt like my fever had broken. I put my hand
to my forehead and my skin was clammy.  

"What the hell is this, the haunted couch?" I
mumbled to myself.

I was miraculously better in time for school,
due to my religious use of flu medicine. The sides of my abused
nostrils were red from tissues.

Being sick, I had all but forgotten about the
fire incident on Friday. But everyone in the commons was talking
about it when I walked in on Monday. Basement Access was no longer
locked, but was symbolically blocked off by traffic cones. I
wondered if that would actually keep people away. There were scorch
marks under the door, as if something had been trying to reach
out.

The most prevalent theory surrounded an
antisocial group at school that always wore black and pretended to
be anarchists. That it was some kind of political statement against
forced education. There were lots of whispers involving my and
Henry's name.

When I arrived in the locker room, Theo was
waiting expectantly for me.

"Seems like I chose the wrong day to get
sick," she said, fiddling with her combination lock. "What happened
while I was gone? I keep hearing people talk about a
fire."

Before I could open my mouth, Coach Fletcher
walked in. "Don't bother changing," she said. "There's going to be
an assembly concerning the fire. Leave your stuff here and let's
go."

"Do we have to?" groaned Madison, who had
already donned her gym shorts.

"Yes." Coach marched back out.
 

Theo and I were still wearing our street
clothes, so we walked straight into the hall. I filled her in on
what happened during the short walk to the auditorium. She agreed
that Henry sounded suspicious.

"But don't write him off, yet," she said. "He
obviously cares about you. You should have seen the look on his
face when you...passed out at the orphanage. You might as well have
been his wife or something. Maybe he just got scared, or worried he
would get in trouble. You know how guys are; they can't talk about
that stuff." 

Lainey and Madison passed by us then, as
always wanting to be at the head of the crowd. I waited until they
were out of earshot before I spoke again. 

"His wife?" I asked.

"You know what I mean," Theo said.

"He does seem kind of romantic. Sometimes he's
all I think about." I'd never admitted it out loud before, but I
knew Theo would understand.   

"Well, yeah, if I had a sickly hot guy falling
all over himself for me, it would be a huge deal," she
agreed.

"What about Alex?" I teased. "He's not bad
looking for a meathead."

"Meh," she said, shrugging. She rubbed glitter
out of the corner of her eye. "I still have to think about that. He
did send me a get-well email. There were kittens. That has to count
for something."

The auditorium was packed nearly to capacity
when we arrived. It looked like every freshman and sophomore sat
there. I had no idea what to expect. Public execution wasn't out of
the question. The faculty members stood along the walls, talking to
each other.  

McPherson appeared onstage, lit like a ghoul
in the stage lights.

"Quiet down now," he said without
pleasantries, waiting until everyone was silent. "Although most of
you were here last Friday, let me give you a reminder. We had a
serious incident. Several fires were set on school properties,
causing minor damage. The staff and I have discussed this matter.
We will not rest until whoever responsible is punished."

"Some of you may be wondering who among you is
to blame. We know of several people of interest that I will be
interviewing."

"Do you think he's talking about you and
Henry?" Theo whispered.  

"Of course he is." Although it was impossible,
I felt like McPherson was looking directly at me. 

The assembly lasted for fifteen minutes, the
whole time McPherson going on and on about personal responsibility
and the limits of freedom in the school being in our best
interests. Sure, I thought.  

When we were finally dismissed, our class
filed back out into the hall with everyone else. I started to
follow the herd back towards the gymnasium. But Coach Fletcher
stood in front of me, stopping me from going further.

"Donovan, you need to go to the office," she
said. She had gone back to treating me like any other kid, broken
nose all but forgotten.

I sighed. Theo smiled sympathetically as me,
raising her crossed fingers for emphasis.

Nerves took me over. I had never really been
in much trouble before, save for the time I drew with crayons
instead of chalk on the sidewalk in elementary school and had to
wash it off for an hour with a garden hose. 

I headed to the front offices and walked into
the inner sanctum. Carnation bouquets were wilting on the counter,
the school colors they'd been dyed with fading. I had been here too
often lately.

"I was told to come to the office. My name is
Ariel Donovan," I told the secretary. I couldn't tell if she
recognized me when I wasn't bathed in my own blood. She pointed
with her pen back to McPherson's office. I shuffled across the
brown carpet and to my doom.

I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
When I opened it, Henry was already sitting, rather casually, in
one of the chairs in front of McPherson's tidy desk. His office was
just as organized and sparse as his house had looked.
 

"Hi," I said meekly to Henry.

"We meet again," he replied, brushing dirt off
of his shoe onto the floor.

"What's going on?" I asked him, sitting in the
chair next to him. He was as aloof as he had been last week. He
simply shrugged.

I wanted desperately to ask him why he was
being so evasive. Had I done something to stop him from liking me?
After how close it had seemed we had gotten...and the kiss at the
dance...

"I just want to get this over with," he said.
"I have things to do." Fire burned behind his usual energy. He
seemed far more pissed off than anxious or worried. He kept
shifting in his seat, and his eyes were lit with some unspoken
passion.

"This is serious, at least to me," I whispered
harshly. "I don't have lawyers for parents." I couldn't understand
what had happened to my Henry, the one who was always kind and had
a joke for every occasion. The one with the amazingly clever,
fast-paced brain that kept me on my toes. The one that I loved, I
realized at the worst moment.  

The office door opened, and we both turned.
McPherson entered with a stack of papers and walked to his desk,
setting down the bundle.

He sat down in the wingback chair, resting his
elbows on the desktop. Tenting his fingers, he looked down his nose
at us. Henry snorted with derisive laughter, making it known that
he thought McPherson was a joke. I looked at him like he was crazy.
I had no pressing interest in getting in trouble.

Then all the humor washed out of Henry's face.
"Is all this really necessary?" he spat.

"I assure you it is, son," McPherson said
calmly. Then his head snapped to me.

I was scared, not only because I knew I was
not McPherson's favorite, but also because of how he demonstrated
it when Lainey hurt my nose. Not to mention what I knew about his
weird living quarters.

"Why were you still inside the school after
the alarm went off?" McPherson interrogated me. "Why didn't you go
out one of the fire exits?"

I paused, mouth open, unsure of what to say.
Honesty seemed like the best defense. But at the same time, I would
embarrass myself to Henry.  

"I need an answer," McPherson
snapped.

"I went to find Henry," I admitted, hoping I
wasn't getting him in more trouble than he was getting in himself.
"He left during class and he didn't come back, so I wanted to make
sure that he got out safely." I didn't look at Henry, too
humiliated by my revelation.   

"Basically, her behavior was stupid, but
well-intentioned," Henry said coldly.  

Anger filled me.

"No more stupid than whatever you were
involved with," I countered.

"You have no idea what I was doing. Stop
pretending like you do," he said, glaring at me and sitting up in
his seat.

"What I do know is that I did nothing to you
to make you act this way towards me. So why the change?" I said,
matching his posture.

"Enough bickering," McPherson said,
interrupting us. For a moment, McPherson and Henry just looked at
each other. I wondered what I was missing.

"I believe you've already spoken with my
father," Henry said. "He'll give you any answers that you
need."

McPherson sat still, debating what to do with
us.

He scribbled two hall passes. "Go back to
class for now. But this isn't over." He leaned back in his chair,
looking smug. "Don't get too comfortable."

After we left McPherson's office, I walked out
of central office, with Henry trailing behind me.  

"What is it?" I asked again, when we were
alone. Henry wouldn't even look at me, finding everywhere else to
train his eyes. He made me furious, treating me like an idiot in
McPherson's office. After all the time we had spent together, I
deserved better.  

"I don't always have to explain everything to
you," he said.

The familiar sensation of having
someone I cared about turn on me was too much to handle. Maybe
there
was
something wrong with me that caused it to happen. "What would
you suggest I do? I can't get in trouble."

"You're not going to get in trouble," he
snapped, glowering at me. He leaned in close and said, "You will be
fine."

"How can you possibly know that?" I asked,
looking into his eyes. He stood for a moment, biting the inside of
his cheek.  

"Just leave me alone from now on," he said,
starting to walk away. "You'll stay out of danger that
way."

For once I was happy as hell that I was immune
from crying as I watched him go.

Chapter 21

Ms. Vore lobbed my sketchbook on my desk when
I arrived in Art. Her eyes met mine, a paler green than Theo's, but
just as full of emotion.  

"I want you to know that I vouched for you
being in class when the fire alarm went off," she said. That
surprised me.