“How are you feeling?” Griffon asks, as soon as my parents are out of sight.
“I’ll survive.”
Griffon looks into each of my eyes carefully. “Your pupils look okay,” he says.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “You’re a medical expert too?”
He shrugs. “I was a doctor once. I know a few things about head trauma.”
I have no answer for that. Reach far enough back into his fantasy and he’s probably been just about everything. “I wish you could tell Mom and Dad that,” I finally say. “They’re going to be waking me up all night to make sure I’m not concussed.” I
look down at my feet. “Thanks for catching me. What a crazy accident.”
Something flashes across Griffon’s face. “I don’t think it was an accident,” he says, traces of anger returning to his voice. He reaches over and pulls out the strap to the cello case. “I think one of the bolts was loosened.”
“Oh, come on,” I say. He has the same look he did when he met Veronique. “It must have just worked itself loose. Why would anyone do that on purpose?”
He scowls. “Someone who’s out for revenge would have no problem messing with a bolt to make it look like an accident.”
I stare at him. “You seriously think Veronique had something to do with this?”
“She had the opportunity. She was in the practice room when we came up the stairs. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’m guessing she has a motive. If all goes according to plan, your cello is sent flying down the stairs or over the railing. Having you almost fall after it must have seemed like a bonus. If it wasn’t Veronique, then it’s a pretty big coincidence.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in coincidences,” I say.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t.”
We sit in silence as I replay him meeting Veronique in my head. Everything changed when Griffon shook hands with her. And he won’t even touch me. “How can you tell?” I ask. “I mean, I know that you said there’s some kind of vibration or something.”
“Sometimes you can just get a sense of it. Other times, you actually have to touch the person to know for sure.” He stops, like he’s searching for an easy explanation. “Basically, once you get
used to it, you can see things in someone’s essence. You can see whether they’re Akhet, and sometimes you can see if you’ve ever been connected in any way.”
“Essence?” I ask. “You mean like the soul?”
Griffon shrugs. “Some people call it that. It’s the part of you that you take from one lifetime to the next. Once you have a physical connection, you can get a sense of their essence, usually enough to know something about them.”
“I’ve never felt anything,” I say, then remember what happened with Veronique the other day when I had the vision of the concert. “At least, I don’t think I have.”
“When it’s still new to you, recognizing someone’s essence isn’t easy. And even if you do recognize Akhet you’ve known before, your relationship can change from lifetime to lifetime. In one life, you might be siblings; in another, business partners. Sometimes you’re a boy, sometimes you’re a girl. Sometimes you’re wealthy, and sometimes you die in poverty.”
“What about cockroaches?”
He raises his eyebrows and looks at me. “Cockroaches?”
“Yeah. Like, I’d hate to come back as a cockroach or a snail. A bird might be okay.”
Griffon laughs out loud, and it’s nice to see the anger leave his face. “I don’t think so. I only remember human lifetimes. I’ve met a lot of Akhet, and so far, they’ve all been human.”
I feel the same stab of jealousy as I picture him holding hands with Rayne outside of the movie theater. “Is that why you always put your hand on someone when you meet them? To try to figure out if they’re one?”
“Is it that obvious?” he asks, looking embarrassed. “It’s mostly habit now, but yeah. It’s like you get even more information through touch than you can with your eyes.”
I look away, knowing that if I ask him the next question, there will be no going back. “So why won’t you ever touch me?” I ask quietly.
“I’ve touched you,” he answers, a bit defensively.
“Not really,” I say. “When you helped me up at the Tower. And just now on the stairs. But never any other time.” I watch his face to see if I can figure out what he’s thinking, but his emotions are well hidden.
He doesn’t look me in the eye as he answers, just keeps his gaze firmly on the street. “It’s complicated. There’s a lot that you don’t understand…”
“Then tell me!” I say quickly. “I can take it. You want so badly for me to believe you, but then you won’t be honest with me about everything. It’s okay if you don’t like me … like that.” I realize too late that that it actually
isn’t
okay. My eyes begin to sting, and I realize that despite all of his talk about Akhet and reincarnation, it isn’t okay at all. I take a deep breath and will my voice to stay steady. “Look, I understand if you’re just trying to help me. Like just a friend or whatever.”
At that, Griffon raises his head and looks right into my face. The sight of his eyes intently on mine makes my heart beat faster, and I know that I sound a lot braver than I feel.
“It’s not that, Cole,” he says. His voice is strained. “You’ve got to believe me. I just don’t want you to get too involved in something … in something that might get difficult.”
Involved? A flash of annoyance rushes through my body. He tells me crazy stories of past lives, looks adorable while he’s apparently saving my ass three flights up a rickety staircase, and then expects me not to get involved? I lean toward him almost imperceptibly. “Newsflash. I’m already involved.”
Griffon doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just nods slowly. “Do you want to feel what it’s like?”
“Feel what?” I answer, confused.
“What it’s like to recognize another Akhet,” he says. “It might help you believe what I’ve been telling you.”
Damn
. I thought I was hiding it better. “It’s not that I don’t believe—”
“It’s okay.” Griffon holds his hand up to interrupt me. “I know this all sounds crazy.” He looks around at the empty sidewalk, unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, and pulls the sleeves up. “This is why I’ve avoided touching you. It can be … overwhelming, if you’re not ready for it.”
Griffon puts his bare arms across his knees and turns to face me. “You can feel it through clothes once you’ve learned what to look for, but it’s easier without.”
Trying to avoid the mental image that statement conjures up, I turn toward him on the bench, inches away from his body. His arms are smooth, with strong ropey veins pulsing just under his brown skin. I carefully inch my sleeves up so that my skin is exposed and slowly reach toward him, willing my hands to stay steady and not give me away. So many times I’ve thought about touching him, about what his skin would feel like. What it would feel like to have him touch me.
Griffon jumps as soon as I touch him, and I can’t help smiling at the effect I’m having on him. “Your hand is freezing,” he says. “From the ice pack.”
So much for the laws of attraction. “Sorry,” I say, rubbing my hand on my pants to try to warm it up some. I take a deep breath as I gently place my arms on his, at first feeling nothing but the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his pulse as we connect. I can sense Griffon taking deep, even breaths, almost like he’s meditating. His eyes are closed, and I find myself staring at his dark lashes as they rest on his cheek. My heart is pounding so hard that I’m sure he can hear it, that the electricity racing through my blood is going to give me away.
And then I feel something different. At first, it’s faint, like a humming from deep inside, but as I focus my attention, it gets stronger and steadier, like the molecules between us are vibrating. It feels like a swarm of bees sounds—alive and thick with energy.
“I can feel it,” I whisper, wondering all the time if I’m just imagining things, if all this talk about Akhet and vibrations has got me wanting to find things that aren’t really there.
Griffon opens his eyes. “You’re really strong. Especially for such a new Akhet.” His face is serious, as if he’s trying hard to control something. He shifts on the bench and clears his throat. “Once you’ve been doing it a while, you can sense even the faintest vibrations—like the ones coming from Akhet who don’t know what they are yet.” He smiles at me. “Pull your hands away slowly,” he says quietly. “See if you can feel when it stops.”
I lift my hands the slightest bit, and the vibrations grow
fainter. As my arms rise above his, the sensation grows weaker and weaker until, just an inch away from his body, I can’t feel it at all. “It’s gone,” I say, closing my eyes, trying to hide the emotions that are so close to the surface. I already miss the sensation of his skin on mine.
The sounds of the street seem to fade away as I feel Griffon’s fingers pushing back my hair, his thumb tracing my cheek. He says nothing, but I open my eyes to see him staring intently at my face, his expression a mix of sadness and relief. Biting his lip, Griffon leans toward me, but just as I lean in to meet him, he pulls his hand away and moves a few inches backward. I sit back too, the reality of what almost happened between us still forming in my mind. My heart feels like it’s fluttering in my chest, both from excitement at what might happen and disappointment because it didn’t.
“I’m sorry, Cole,” he says, looking away from me. “I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just that I—”
I wait for him to finish the sentence, but the words just hang in the air. “It’s okay,” I say, feeling the awkwardness fold in around us again. I put the ice pack back up to my head as my headache starts to grow.
Griffon sits back on the bench and studies the oncoming traffic. “Listen, I have baseball practice tomorrow, but it should be over around five. If you can get away, why don’t you come over to my house after that? I guarantee you’ll get a lot of answers to your questions. Maybe enough so that you’ll finally believe what I’m telling you.”
I can’t help my pulse racing at the thought of seeing him again
so soon. “What, do you have some kind of manual hidden away that will give me step-by-step instructions?”
“Better,” he says with a mysterious smile as Dad’s car swings to the curb in front of us. “I have my mother. She’s Akhet too.”
Griffon smiles broadly as soon as I spot him on the sidewalk outside the BART station. Just the sight of him standing there in his jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket is enough to make my heart ache, and I realize in that split second that “want” is quickly being replaced by “need.”
“Glad you made it,” he says, placing his hand lightly on the small of my back to guide me down the crowded sidewalk, a gesture he never would have made before last night, and one I can’t help but notice. Even through several layers of clothes I can feel the steady hum of his touch, and have to concentrate on my surroundings in order not to give in to the sensation.
“It was pretty easy,” I say. At first Mom didn’t want to let me go out, but the bump on my head was almost gone this morning, so she relaxed a little. I just told her that I was having dinner at
Rayne’s, and I feel surprisingly unguilty about the lie. As long as she knows my practice hours are logged in, she isn’t likely to check up. Sixteen years of playing the good girl is starting to pay off.
A hint of concern crosses his features. “How’s the head feeling?”
“Fine,” I say. “Not concussed at all.”
“Good. Janine’s been running around all day getting supplies for dinner,” he says.
“Janine?”
“My mom.”
I imagine what Mom would do if I started calling her “Sofia,” and it isn’t pretty. “Have you always called her by her first name?”
“No,” he says. “Not when I was really little. But when I started to be aware that I was Akhet, it just seemed more natural.”
“Aren’t … Akhet … always aware?” It’s the first time I’ve said that word out loud, and judging from the look of surprise he gives me, Griffon notices it too. I still think all of this is insane, but I don’t have any more rational explanation for what’s been happening. At least, not yet.
“Not exactly,” he says slowly. “A brand-new baby with the memories of all his past lives would be pretty creepy. Worse than those talking babies on TV.”
I grin. I love those talking-baby commercials. “So, what? Is there an age limit? On some special birthday do you get all of your knowledge in one go?”
“No. It’s not that organized. I regain my memories really early, like about three or four. I’ve heard for some Akhet it’s later. But it’s not in bits and pieces like you’re getting it now—it just seems like it’s all always been there, like knowing how to walk and talk.”
“That must make you one weird little kid,” I say.
“It used to,” he agrees. “In one lifetime, early on, I started correcting my Latin tutor on his grammar. Here’s this six-year-old kid who suddenly spoke perfect Latin. Considering I was Chinese at the time, it really freaked everyone out. My parents were convinced I was possessed.”
I laugh. “What did they do?”
“Called in an exorcist,” he says. When he sees my expression, he laughs too. “No, seriously, the Taoist version of one, anyway.” He shakes his head, remembering. “The guy did the whole bit—starvation, prayer, hours and hours of meditation. After that I learned to keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s hilarious,” I say. “Sad, but hilarious.”
“It is,” he says. “That’s why it’s been great having Janine around this time. She’s still my mom and all, but it’s more of a … partnership than anything else.” He smiles. “Drives my grandmother crazy.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“No,” he says. “Janine is the only other Akhet in the family. Nana just thinks we’re crazy hippies living out in California, smoking dope and dreaming up ways to save the world. Dad knows, though.”
I thought about the looks that had passed between them at the Tower that day. Griffon must have said something about me right away.
“It almost makes sense,” I say, knowing that making sense is relative at this point because it all sounds crazy. “I just don’t remember much. It’s like flipping channels on a TV really fast. Just bits and pieces. A scene here and a scene there.”