The Gifting (18 page)

A surge of heat rises in my chest. I would like nothing more than to go over there, grab Pete’s arm, and yank him away. He doesn’t belong with those two. Instead, I swallow the impulse and look down at my tray.

“You okay?” Luka asks.

“Besides the fact that I’m going crazy? Sure.”

“You’re not going crazy.” He folds his arms on the table.

“My grandmother was crazy. It must skip a generation.”

Shaking his head, he cracks open his Mountain Dew.

I glance past him, at our classmates. “Everybody is staring.”

“Let them,” he says, opening my chocolate milk and setting it in front of me. “And while they stare, why don’t you tell me about your grandmother?”

“She suffered from psychosis.” My voice is lifeless and dull.

“I take it you didn’t know this?”

“Not until we moved to Thornsdale. For as long as I can remember, my parents have always told me that she died of a heart attack when Pete and I were really little, but last night I dreamt about her.”

“And that means she’s not dead?”

I pick at a fray in the knee of my jeans, battling uncertainty. The man in my nightmare warned me against hanging out with Luka. And now here I am, spilling my guts. I don’t know who to trust anymore. “Luka, can I trust you?”

He draws back. “Why do you ask that?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Of course you can trust me.” His eyebrows pinch together. “Tess, what’s going on?”

“There was a man in my dream last night. He said you were dangerous company.”

“Dangerous?” Luka’s eyes narrow. “Who was this guy?”

“I don’t know. He was with my grandma. I think maybe he was her doctor or something. After I left the beach, I was in this white room and there was this old woman who looked like my dad. She was restrained to this bed, only she was trying to get free.” I squint, trying to recall the details. “And the guy was there. I don’t really remember what he looked like, except he had a scar on his face. He told me if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up like her.”

A muscle ticks in Luka’s jaw. He looks angry.

“Then all of a sudden I was somewhere else. In a house with a man.”

“The one with the scar?”

“No, somebody else. He was really sad and he had a
gun
.” It was the first time I’ve ever seen one so up close. People aren’t supposed to own guns. “He stuck it in his mouth and he …” I close my eyes, wishing I could blot out the memory. “He pulled the trigger. That same guy committed suicide last night. I looked it up on the computer and his picture’s the same. He lived on the other side of town. He had two kids and a wife.”

Luka sits very close and very still, his expression unreadable.

“Then this morning, I found out that my grandma has been alive all this time. My parents have been lying to me all these years. Supposedly, she tried to kidnap me when I was a baby and now she’s locked up in some mental hospital.” A hot lump expands inside my throat. How did my world turn upside down so quickly? Is it really possible that last week, I was a nobody eating lunch with Leela? Now I’m talking about impossible things with the most sought-after boy in school, an invisible target on my forehead. I dig my fingers into my hair. “I know you see what I see, Luka. But how do I know you aren’t another delusion? How do I know I’m not sitting here at this table, talking to myself?”

“I’m real, Tess. You can touch me if you want.” He extends his hand, palm up.

I stare at the offering, doubtful it will do much to settle my nerves. Or get rid of the stares. “I bet that’s the kind of thing people suffering from psychosis tell themselves.”

Luka pivots so his chair faces mine, reaches under my seat, and pulls my chair closer. My eyes widen. “You aren’t suffering from psychosis.”

I let out a long breath and catch Leela picking at her food, her shoulders devoid of their usual perk. I wish more than anything that I could tell her the truth. I need someone to confide in. “I wish I could tell Leela.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

My insides deflate. Luka is right, of course. “What am I supposed to tell her, then?”

“About what?”

“This.” I motion from him to me. “Us. She’s going to ask.”

Luka chews on his thumbnail, as if considering. I take an unenthusiastic drink of my chocolate milk, trying to think of a believable explanation, but my headache makes thinking impossible. “You could tell her we’re dating,” he says.

I laugh.

“What?”

“Nobody will believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Because …” My cheeks catch fire. He needs to go look in a mirror. Boys like him do not date girls like me. The student body would have an easier time believing there are angels in Ceramics. “It’s not believable.”

He opens his mouth, but before he can say whatever it is he was about to say, Matt and Jared plop down at our table. Luka leans back in his seat, away from me while Matt plucks the apple off my tray and takes a bite. “What’s up Williams? Too cool to sit with us now?”

Jared motions toward my chips. “You going to eat those?”

“Go ahead,” I say.

“Summer glared at you the entire lunch period.” Matt takes another bite out of my apple, specks of juice spitting from the flesh as he does. “I thought her head was going to pop off. It wasn’t attractive.”

“Summer’s always attractive,” Jared says, opening my bag of chips.

Matt tips his chin at me. “Better watch out, new girl.”

“She has a name,” Luka says.

I peek at Leela. She dumps her food in the trash and hurries out of the cafeteria, keeping her head down the entire way.

*

After school, I find Leela in the locker bay. As soon as she sees me, she slams her locker shut and hurries away. I hurry after her. “Leela!”

If she hears me, she doesn’t stop.

“Leela,” I call again, weaving my way through students, trying to close the gap between us. “Leela, will you wait?” I grab her arm and she spins around, her expression a strange mixture of hurt and hard. I let go. “Hi,” I say lamely.

“So you’re talking to me now?”

“Of course I’m talking to you.”

“You sure that’s smart?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, now that you’re in with the popular crowd, are you sure you want to be seen with somebody like me?”

“I’m not
in
with the popular crowd. And even if I was, that wouldn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend.”

Her face softens a little at the declaration. She bites her lip. “You were sitting with three of the most popular boys in the whole school at lunch today. I think that makes you a part of the crowd.”

“I was sitting with Luka. Matt and Jared didn’t sit with us until the very end.”

Leela crosses her arms and continues her lip nibbling. “I tell you everything, Tess. You even know how I feel about your brother, which is embarrassing. But that’s what best friends do. They tell each other everything.”

My insides go all perky and warm. So Leela agrees—we are best friends. I’ve never had one of those before. The urge to confide in her grows, but Luka’s warning is fresh. And the memory of his suggested cover-up makes my insides go from warm to hot. Dating Luka? Nobody’s going to believe that.

“I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me,” she says.

“I don’t want to.”

“Then tell me what’s going on. What happened yesterday when you went to his house? And what were you talking about at lunch today? You both looked so … intense.”

I sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Luka and I—we’re sort of …” Crazy. Nuts. Suffering from psychosis. Sharing the same dreams. Seeing white-eyed demons in pep rallies and angels in ceramics class and somehow, in a crazy universe that makes no sense at all, this makes him interested in me. “Together.”

Leela’s jaw drops.

Heat mounts in my cheeks. “See.”

“Oh no, I totally believe you. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since your first day of school. He watches you like a hawk.”

“What? No he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed either. Why do you think Summer’s always scowling at you?”

“Because she’s inclined to scowl at people?”

Leela’s eyes are bright and wide. Any trace of hurt has evaporated. “I cannot believe this! Luka’s never dated anyone. And now you two are together?” Her expression falters. “Why aren’t you more excited about this?”

I hook my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack. “I am.”

She looks highly skeptical.

“No, really. I am. It’s just …” I sigh, wishing I could join Leela in her enthusiasm. Wishing this wasn’t a ruse. Wishing I really was the new girl who gained the impossible-to-get attention of a cute, popular boy. “I found out that my grandmother’s sick. That’s why I was late this morning.” This, at least, isn’t a lie. My grandmother—wherever she is—is very, very sick. “Luka’s helping me process.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

I shrug off the condolence. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Or answer any questions about my grandmother’s sickness. I need a subject change. “Hey, why don’t we go to that party tomorrow? The Halloween party. You still wanna go?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I want to go!” Leela wags her eyebrows. “Maybe your boyfriend wants to come, too.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “He’s not really my boyfriend.”

“That’s what
together
means, doesn’t it? Oh my gosh, is he a good kisser?”

“Leela.”

A far-off, dreamy look clouds her eyes. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” She blinks several times, as if realizing something important, and grips onto my forearm. “Or how much trouble?”

“Trouble?”

“Summer is going to kill you.”

Really, Summer is the least of my worries.

Parental Concern

I
’m annoyed with Pete on the drive home from school. Something about his presence beside me in the car and the sullen way he stares out the window scratches against raw nerves. I grip the steering wheel, unable to erase the gleeful look on Wren’s face after Pete told her whatever he told her during lunch. I don’t like his choice of friends. I don’t like the way he’s been pouting. And I don’t like his unfair judgment of Luka, either.

He must be equally annoyed with me, because the second I turn into the driveway, he flings open the door and climbs out before I’m able to shift into park. I turn off the car, step outside, and pull my backpack over my shoulders, squinting against a hazy, bright sky. I slam the car door and follow Pete’s fresh trail into the house.

Mom stands in the foyer, staring nervously up the staircase. Obviously Pete has blown her off too. I can hear his retreat up the final stair, the slam of his bedroom door, followed by the loud blast of angry music from his stereo. Seriously, how long are my parents going to let him get away with this?

Mom turns to me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I just need some space.” I walk into the kitchen and grab a Coke, unsure when I’ll be able to get over the fact that Mom and Dad lied straight to my face. In this very kitchen. I asked them about grandma that first Saturday and my dad looked me in the eyes and told me she was dead. If they could lie about that, how do I know they aren’t lying about other stuff too?

Mom follows me. “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”

“If I were you, I’d be more worried about Pete.”

Mom’s forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“
What do I mean?
Seriously? Mom, all he does is lock himself in his room and listen to music he never used to listen to. And now he’s hanging out with these total freaks at school.” Mom’s face fills with alarm. A small sliver of satisfaction works its way through my frustration. I don’t care that I’m ratting out my little brother. If Mom and Dad aren’t concerned about his behavior, then maybe it’s time I make them concerned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he were doing drugs.”

Mom’s eyes widen.

I slide open the door. A breeze sweeps into the kitchen, and along with it, the briny smell of the sea and the sound of rolling waves. Mom stands beside the refrigerator, looking unsure as to whether she should press me for more information or go confront her angst-ridden teenaged son. Pete must win the battle. The drug-mention on my part was effective. She pivots on her heel and makes a beeline for the stairs, to Pete’s room, no doubt.

Good.

Let him be the freaky, troubled child for once. I will pretend I’m the well-adjusted girl with a best friend and a boyfriend. I step outside, walk to the edge of the deck, set my Coke on the banister, and let the crisp ocean breeze hit my face. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and try not to think. I focus on clearing my head of everything until all that exists is the sound of the sea and the freedom of the outdoors. The day’s tension slowly rolls off my back.

“How’d it go with Leela?”

My eyes fly open.

Luka stands on the edge of his deck, the side that is closest to mine, his elbows resting on the banister.

Peace scurries away, replaced instead by embarrassment and nerves and a thrill of excitement. “Have you been out here this whole time?” I call over.