Read The Gathering Dark Online
Authors: Christine Johnson
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Paranormal
“Keira?”
In a snap, the air in the room stilled.
Keira wanted to shake her head—to shake it off—but she was afraid if she did, she’d puke. “Sorry. I got . . . dizzy or something for a second. I probably turned around too fast. I’m fine.”
Susan put a hand on her hip. “You are such a shit liar. Something’s going on with you. It’s
been
going on with you for a while now. What is it, Keira?”
Keira’s eyes automatically sought the spot on the carpet where she’d seen—
hallucinated—
the tree.
“It’s probably because I didn’t practice enough this weekend. I mean, I spent almost that whole afternoon with Walker.”
Susan frowned. “No one slips that much from missing one weekend of practice. Not even me, and I suck. So don’t go blaming this on Walker. One of the things he likes most is your music, right?”
“Yeah,” Keira admitted. “When I told him that I’d composed a piece over the weekend, he
wanted
me to spend time on it. He knows how important this is to me. He knows that I’d never give it up—not for anyone. I wasn’t trying to blame him. My parents’ crap is probably stressing me out, I guess.”
Hurt was scrawled across Susan’s face. “You composed something?”
“Yes,” Keira said, her anger leaking out of her.
“And you told Walker before you told me?”
Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“It just came up,” Keira said. “I’m sure I would have told you first if . . . ”
“If Tommy hadn’t sucked up all my attention.” Susan’s lip trembled. “Okay. Not being the jealous friend. That’s amazing news. Is there anything else you haven’t told me? You know, while we’re catching up and all?” The joke was shaky. Susan’s voice was too.
Keira wanted Susan to know that she
did
tell her things that no one else knew. And she really wanted someone to know the truth.
“I’ve been seeing some weird things the last couple of days,” she admitted.
Susan quit fidgeting. “Like what?”
Keira shrugged. “Things that aren’t really there—just flashes of them, for a second. But hey, going crazy is probably more distracting than my parents’ fighting, right? At least I have a really good excuse for sucking at Beethoven.” She tried to laugh.
“You need to see a doctor.”
This was exactly why Keira hadn’t told her parents. She didn’t want to be dragged into their therapist’s office and picked apart thought by thought.
“Seriously.” Susan leaned in. “That’s
exactly
how my migraines started. I’d see things out of the corner of my eye and then they’d be gone. And then a couple of hours later,
bam
, headache. All you need is some medication or something.”
Keira thought about it. She had been sort of headachy, but she was pretty sure the sort of visual disturbances Susan was talking about were different than the things she’d been seeing.
“Yeah. Maybe. It’s not quite—”
“Mine always happen when the weather changes,” Susan interrupted. “Which is actually helpful, ’cause I know when to have my medicine with me. Low-pressure fronts. They’re my biggest trigger.”
God, she would love to chalk her visions up to the weather. All the strange things she’d seen played in her memory. The dark marks on Walker. The strange fruit in the kitchen, on that first day after she’d met him at Take Note. The door in the middle of the road while she was in Walker’s car. The tree in the living room, after she’d played for him.
Holy shit. It’s all happened since I met Walker. And most of
that
has been while I’ve been
with
him.
Why hadn’t she put that together before? Relief flooded through her. Now that she could see the pattern, she could imagine explanations. Like maybe her subconscious was trying to force her away from Walker and keep her focused on her goals. Or maybe she was allergic to his fabric softener. Or—
“You’re not going crazy. You know that, right?” Susan asked.
Keira’s throat was thick with sudden tears. “I don’t think I am, actually.”
“There’s a perfectly logical explanation. I totally think you’re having migraines.”
Keira was pretty sure that wasn’t the answer. Something about Walker was. All she needed was some way to prove it.
“Thanks,” she said, feeling more together than she had in days. “Now, do you want me to hack my way through this music with you, or what?”
Susan’s expression twisted. “Not really. I’m just . . . not feeling it. I really think it’s more than Tommy and everything. I don’t like the piece. Could we go to Take Note and pick out something else?”
“Sure. How about tomorrow after school? I promise we’ll go and find a piece you like.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Susan reached for her flute case. “I think I’m done with music for today, anyway.”
“We could watch a movie or something?” Keira suggested. She willed herself not to look over at her piano. She needed to sort through whatever was keeping her from playing as well as she knew she could.
“Nah. I know you’re dying to practice for real. I’m going to get a pint of ice cream, go home, and reread all the texts Tommy ever sent me.” Her lip quivered. “And then I’m going to delete every damn one of them.”
“I’m not going to let you wallow alone,” Keira insisted.
“Yes, you are. Seriously. You should call Walker. And then practice. And then go on a date, because God knows one of us should see a hot guy tonight.”
Keira hesitated. She did want to see Walker, mostly to find out if he was causing her visions.
But not when her piano playing was such a mess. Everything else was just going to have to wait while she worked on that.
Keira shook her head. “I’m going to be a twitchy mess until I get this music-block sorted out.”
“So practice fast,” Susan suggested, snapping her flute case shut.
“I’ll try,” she promised.
After Susan left, Keira went back to the piano and ran scales until her fingers burned as badly as the knot in her chest. The only way she knew how to unravel a knot like that was to play the right music, and, just then, none of the music was right.
I am so screwed.
• • •
Keira’s parents both came home for dinner. Keira retreated into her room while her parents mixed themselves cocktails and ignored each other.
She shut her door. Maybe an hour of homework wouldn’t kill her. Surely by then one of her parents would have cracked under the strain of so much politeness and left the house. There was no way she could practice with them slinking around, anyway.
She opened her chemistry book, flipped to the right page, and stared at the equations. The part of her brain that worked through music told her that there was a pattern here, too, but she couldn’t see what it was for the life of her.
Her phone rang and Keira slammed the book shut before she’d even bothered to check who was calling. Anyone would be better than chemistry.
But it was better than anyone. It was Walker.
“Hey,” he said. “You busy?”
“Not exactly,” Keira admitted.
“Well, are you busy tomorrow?”
The flutter in her stomach was nothing like butterflies. “I don’t have any special plans,” she said carefully.
“A standing date with your piano?” Walker guessed.
“Yes.”
Every time he did something to show how well he understood her, she fell for him a little bit harder.
“Do you have time for a date with me? If not, I demand a rain check. And I’ll want it to be made of actual rain.”
Keira laughed. “So you’re telling me it’ll take less time to go out with you than to make you a rain check?”
“Smart
and
pretty. You’re too good for me. Want to see a movie with me in spite of that?”
There was nothing in her that wanted to say no. So she didn’t.
“Sure. What’s playing?”
“Dunno. Don’t care. I just thought it’d be fun to sit in the dark with you for two hours.”
Heat flooded Keira’s cheeks. “You just want someone to hold your hand during the scary parts.”
“True.” There was a faint clicking on his end of the phone. “Ah. Perfect.
Alien Invaders IV
? Starts at seven thirty? That should have lots of scary parts.”
“
Alien Invaders IV
? Really?” It didn’t seem like his style. Or hers.
“It’s that or some movie about a talking dog.”
“Oh, God, aliens. Please. Aliens.”
“That’s what I thought. I’m working until six thirty—I’ll pick you up after, okay?”
Keira remembered her promise to find Susan some new music.
“Actually . . . I told Susan that I’d help her find a different piece for her flute. So, um, we’re coming to Take Note anyway—maybe we could time it so that you and I could leave after that?”
“Sounds great,” he said.
“Okay,” she said softly. “See you then.”
Chapter Eighteen
A
T SIX O’CLOCK THE
next night, Keira and Susan walked into Take Note. Well, Keira walked in. Susan trudged. When she’d heard that Keira was ditching her for a date with Walker, all the light had gone out of her.
The door chimed as they pushed it open, and Walker turned to look at them.
He wasn’t the only one.
At first, Keira’s gaze skittered over the sharp-featured guy standing across the counter from Walker. Just another customer. Except . . . She looked back at him. His black hoodie and dark jeans were unremarkable, and his faded Chucks weren’t
noteworthy. His nose bent slightly, as though it had been broken before, which added an air of toughness to his face.
The thing that caught Keira’s attention most was that, though his hair was stick-straight, it was the same shining ebony as Walker’s curls. And when he looked over and caught Keira staring at him, his eyes were the same shade of charcoal that Walker’s were.
The only difference was that Walker’s eyes were full of concern, while Mystery Guy’s held nothing but curiosity.
Keira stepped forward and held out her hand. “You must be Walker’s cousin, huh?”
The guy looked down at her outstretched fingers and his slightly-too-thin lips pursed in confusion before he extended his own palm.
His handshake was limp enough that it made Keira want to wipe her hand against the leg of her jeans. She resisted the urge.
“Keira, this is my cousin, Smith. Smith, this is Keira.” Walker sounded resigned.
Smith smiled at her. There was something about him that put Keira on edge. “It’s so . . .
nice
to meet you.” His words crawled across her skin.
“Yeah. You too. I didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Oh, I pop over from time to time.” He laughed, but Keira didn’t get the joke. He turned his gaze to Susan. The minute his eyes traced her dark hair, tiny nose, and pouty lower lip, Smith
pulled his shoulders back. When he stood up to his full height, he was almost as tall as Walker. Susan straightened, her cheeks pinking up beneath the attention.
“Who’s this?” Smith asked.
“Smith, Walker, this is my best friend, Susan.”
“Hi.” Susan didn’t even turn her head to acknowledge Walker. Her greeting was solely for Smith.
Keira looked over at Walker. The strange insta-attraction that was happening between Susan and Smith made it seem like she’d known Walker forever. She could read him like a billboard.
Compared to the two in front of her, she and Walker had a history.
Walker caught her eye.
She shot him a
What the hell is going on?
look.
He shot back a
Haven’t you ever seen two people flirting for the first time?
eyebrow raise.
She narrowed her eyes.
Smart-ass.
Walker laughed. “So. Susan.” Susan and Smith both whipped around to face him. “Keira said you need to find some music?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“You play?” Smith asked.
“Yeah, the flute, but not very well. Are you a musician?” Susan actually batted her eyelashes.
Smith waved his hand dismissively. “Not a musician. I like
working on machines. You know—gears and belts and fans and stuff.” He pinned Susan with a look. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to listen. What style of music do you like to play?” He stepped closer to Susan, separating their conversation from Keira and Walker.
Walker grimaced, and Keira cocked her head at him, confused. So they were flirting? So what? If his cousin broke her rebounding friend’s heart, yeah, she was going to make Smith eat that grin, but other than that . . .
Unless that’s what Walker’s making faces about. Is Smith a player or something?
Smith didn’t seem cute enough to collect notches in his belt, but what did Keira know? She stepped close to the counter while Susan and Smith inched toward the bins of music.
“Everything okay?” Keira kept her voice low, leaning her head toward Walker’s.
“Fine. My cousin is—well, I told you my family situation is a little complicated.” He brought his lips so close to her ear that she could feel the heat of his breath against the sensitive hollow beneath her jaw. She spread her palm on the chipped counter, steadying herself.
“Yeah. Obviously, I don’t have any room to judge you on that,” Keira tried to make her voice light, but it came out breathy instead. She pulled away from Walker enough that she could turn to face him. “What’s he doing here, anyway?”
Walker glanced back at Smith and Susan, who were
completely engrossed in each other. “Seeing what I’m up to,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“So that he can figure out how he’s going to rebel.” Walker paused. “My aunt is going to be royally pissed if she finds out he was in Sherwin.”
“And you’re not going to tell her?” Keira guessed.
“Something like that. Anyway. I don’t trust tattletales, you know?”
“Totally. He’s not going to hurt Susan, is he?”
Walker stared past her, watching Susan and Smith circle each other. “Depends on why he wants her, I guess.” He sighed. “I’d try to keep him off her, but that would just make him more determined to chase her. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Keira said, watching them too. Each grin Smith and Susan shared tightened the muscles in her neck a little bit more.