A Beautiful Dark (22 page)

“Not fair!”

He was laughing. Deeply and richly. He didn’t stop even when my next snowball hit him square in the face.

Snow was suddenly swirling around me, a whirlpool of white. I was at a disadvantage. My fledgling powers couldn’t compete with his. So I lowered my shoulder and charged toward him.

It was something else the Gifted apparently hadn’t foreseen—because I smacked into him and we both tumbled into the snow. His laughter abruptly stopped. Everything stopped.

As I straddled him, I was acutely aware of the stillness: his, mine, the woods. His arms were around me, holding me to him. Our faces mere inches away. His eyes were that incredible blue beneath a layer of ice. I wanted to fall into them. Find the peace and tranquility they offered. Leave schoolwork and bruised hearts and insecurities behind.

“What’s your world like?” I asked.

“Beautiful,” he said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We know our destinies so we don’t have to worry about the future. We all follow the rules, so no one is hurt and there are no unexpected consequences. It’s an eternal state of bliss. Nothing is unplanned or unexpected.”

“And you’re happy there?”

“I love it there. We have no jealousies, no pettiness. When I walk through the school here, I’m bombarded with anger and envy. I overhear people saying unkind things about one another. Here people are mean, cruel. Selfish. With the order, there is a beautiful lightness to our being.”

“Your zen state,” I said, smiling.

“Something like that. Yes.” Tentatively, he reached up and cradled my cheek in his hand. His palm was warm, his fingers gentle. His thumb neared the corner of my mouth and I had a feeling that he wanted to trail it over my lips. The blue in his eyes deepened. “My descriptions don’t do it justice. I want to be able to share it with you. I want to share so much with you.”

He blinked as though he’d been in a trance. The intense moment between us faded. He shook his head. “I guess this means you won.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, forcing myself to disguise the shaking in my voice. My body quivered.

I thought I’d felt confused before, but now it was even worse. I thought I’d been falling for Asher—but now, here with Devin, I wasn’t sure what I felt.

They were so different. Light and dark. Peace and chaos. If I had a choice, I didn’t know which I would choose. Would my powers choose for me?

Gathering my wandering thoughts, I smiled brightly. “I knew I’d kick your butt.”

I rolled off him and shoved myself to my feet, avoiding eye contact as he got up. I wondered if he’d been able to read my thoughts. How embarrassing that would be. I glanced around.

The sunlight peeked through the cracks in the trees as it sank lower in the sky. It was nearing sunset.

“Hey, do you want to try something?” he asked hesitantly, and I wondered if he was grappling with the same emotions that were overwhelming me.

Slowly I turned around. “Sure. Okay.”

“Over here.”

He took my hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do. We walked toward one of the largest trees and stopped at a tangle of wild alpine flowers. Devin bent down. At first I just stood there, but he looked up at me, nodding his head for me to bend down next to him on the trail.

He pointed to a small lavender winter flower. The edges of its petals were browned and faded, the green of its stem blackened and sickly.

“It’s dead,” I said.

Devin nodded. A vague, subtle light emanated from his hands. He cupped them around the flower, and the light grew momentarily brighter.

When he pulled both hands away, the flower was an intense, thriving purple, its stem long and tangled and green.

It was beautiful.

“I wanted to wait until we were alone to share this with you,” he said.

“Can I . . . do that?” I heard my voice waver.

“That is one path for your powers to take.”

“Can I try?” He nodded for me to proceed. I reached over to find another dying flower amid the branches and stems. My hand brushed against his, and I felt him shiver. But I wouldn’t look up. Not yet. Devin brought his hands close to mine, cupping my own around the faded flower. Light still shone from his outstretched hands, illuminating the area so I could see what I was doing.

Slowly, holding the flower in my right hand, I brought my left hand over to cover it. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel anything, but nothing stirred within my cupped hands. I waited. I could feel Devin beside me, holding his breath.

“Open them,” he whispered finally.

I pulled my left hand away, revealing the tiny blossom within.

It was still dead.

Silently, we headed back before the sun dipped too far behind the mountains for us to see where we were going. To my surprise, Devin walked me to my car.

“How are you getting home?” I asked. “Wait, where
is
home?”

“I’m renting an apartment. There’s a little complex over by Evergreen Street.” I looked at him, and for some reason, the thought of Devin in a small empty apartment made me sad.

“I’ll drive you,” I offered. “Come on, get in.”

“You’re sure it’s not too far out of your way?”

“I’ll be fine.” I smiled at him. He grinned back. We got into the car.

“Today was—” He cut himself off, instead busying himself with buckling his seat belt.

“What?” I prodded. “Fun?”

He smiled sheepishly. I opened my eyes wide in mock surprise, and he nodded.

“I haven’t laughed so hard in a long while,” he said. “It was nice.”

“Me neither,” I said. “It was.”

My car hugged a tight curve, hurtling along the winding mountain roads in the dusk. The sun had set, and the sky was a deep, mood-ring blue, the kind of blue the ring gets before it turns really, fantastically black.

Devin was quiet in the passenger seat, every now and then letting me know when to turn, how far we had left to go. I wasn’t very familiar with that part of town, but it wasn’t a long drive at all. The complex consisted of a few rows of drab, brick homes. Devin directed me to his.

I pulled in to the driveway and cut the engine.

“This is . . . interesting,” I said. “How did you find this place?”

“There aren’t too many places to rent an apartment in this town,” he said. “It was sort of this or sleeping out in that field back there.” He was trying to make a joke, but it wasn’t especially funny.

“Devin?” I said. “Thanks again. For today. It was a big help.”

He smiled again, and a kind of happiness filled the car.

“You’re welcome, Skye. I’m glad.” He got out, unlocked his apartment door, and disappeared inside. A second or two later, I saw a light appear in an upstairs window.

Suddenly in the car, in the quiet, I was gripped by loneliness. I couldn’t call my friends—they wouldn’t understand. I thought about calling Asher, but I didn’t even know if he
had
a phone or if he’d want to talk to me.

I was miserable and exhausted. I just wanted to feel something different from what I was feeling. I didn’t want to go home to my empty house. I didn’t want to be alone.

I got out of the car, walked up the short, concrete driveway, and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, Devin opened it.

“Skye?” he asked, confused.

“Can I stay here tonight?” I didn’t explain. I knew if I did, I would start crying, and I didn’t want Devin to see me like that. I needed a friend, and right now, he was the only one who understood what I was going through.

Without a word, he opened the door wider, allowing me to pass.

Chapter 27

T
he dawn light crept in through the blinds. I’d slept so soundly, hardly waking up in the night. It was the most rested I’d felt since turning seventeen. Then I noticed Devin’s arm slipped around my waist, and became aware of his body pressed against mine, moving softly in time with his breathing.

I was afraid to move for a minute or two. I didn’t want to wake him. Instead I tried to relax, getting used to the feel of his arm around me. Getting used to being held. I closed my eyes again and tried to fall back asleep. It was all I wanted—all I needed, right then. But still something didn’t feel right.

Carefully I turned to face him. He was fast asleep, and it was funny to see him that way, so unaware of my presence. It made me feel closer to him, somehow. I almost didn’t want to wake him. But I knew I had to.

I nudged him gently and watched as he groggily opened his eyes. “Hi,” I said.

“Hi. . . .” He blinked then recognized me. Immediately he pulled his arm away, like I’d burned him. “What are you doing here?”

“I slept here, remember? Except when we fell asleep, I was over here, and you were waaay over there.” I nodded toward the other side of the bed.

“Oh.” He laughed, still confused, still half asleep. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” I closed my eyes again sleepily, and when I opened them, he was looking at me. Our faces were so close together. Despite everything, I could feel my heart pounding.

Then Raven’s words echoed sharply in my ears.

I will always be watching you, Skye.

Fear suddenly gripped me. Did she know I was here right now? My body spasmed, and I sat up abruptly.

“Raven . . . what is she to you?” I asked.

He pushed himself up. “What exactly do you know about Raven?”

I decided to go with the CliffsNotes version. “She introduced herself to me.”

He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “Raven, what are you doing?”

Crossing my legs beneath me, I turned and faced him squarely. “She’s your girlfriend.”

“No.” He lifted his gaze. “It’s hard to explain. She is . . . the one for me.”

“So you love her?”

“No. I”—he combed his fingers through his hair—“I don’t know what I feel for her. We’re destined to be together, but it’s gotten . . . complicated lately.”

“Because of me?”

“Partly.”

My heart hammered against my chest. I wanted to stay here all day. I wanted to run. I chose to run.

“I have to go,” I said, flinging myself out of bed. He didn’t protest. I got my boots on and grabbed my jacket from a chair by the door. Before I ran down the stairs, I turned to look at him. He was propped against a pillow. Watching me without the slightest hint of emotion. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the sheets were crinkling around his smooth, chiseled body. My stomach jerked involuntarily.
“Bye,”
I mouthed, my voice caught somewhere in my throat.

He didn’t follow me, but when I got outside and was able to breathe again, I heard the lock click into place behind me.

Chapter 28

T
he thought of sitting through homeroom with Asher and Devin one row behind me sent my body into convulsions, so I wandered the halls surreptitiously for a while, figuring if a teacher saw me, she’d probably think I was on my way to the nurse with an advanced case of the flu. It probably looked like it. I felt nauseous and dizzy, my mind caught between too many different things. Finally my legs felt as if they were going to give out from under me, and I found my way to the seldom-used bathroom in the basement by the music rehearsal rooms. Sometimes Cassie and I hung out in there before she went to band practice and I had skiing. Someone who spent a
lot
of time in those rehearsal rooms had dragged an old armchair into the bathroom by the sinks. The thing had seen better days; its mustard yellow velvet upholstery was threadbare, and stuffing burst forth in several places.

I loved that chair. I always sat in it while Cassie propped herself up on the sink to do her makeup. Now I opened the bathroom door, threw my bag on the floor, and sank into the chair. It was as if the world-weariness of the old chair opened the floodgates. I started to cry.

Vaguely I was aware of the door opening and a familiar voice saying, “Lady, you have got some serious explaining to do.”

I shook my head, hard. Cassie crouched on the floor beside the chair. “I only do this for my most special and loyal people,” she said, resting her chin on the arm of the chair, “but I think today calls for a cut day.”

I looked up, and through my tears, I could barely manage a grateful smile. “Finally someone around here who makes
sense
.”

Cassie lived in a small ranch-style, powder blue house with white trim that she shared with her parents and younger brothers, and everywhere,
everywhere
, there was evidence that a family lived there. It was the exact opposite of my house. Cassie kicked aside a yellow plastic dump truck with the gray suede toe of her bootie as we got out of the car. Instinctively I headed for the front door, but she intercepted me.

“Hey,” she said. “Remember what used to always cheer you up?” She headed toward the side of the house, flipped the lock on the ancient wooden fence, and we walked into the backyard. I smiled when I saw the swing set.

“Tire swing!” I called, claiming it. Cassie took the bucket swing, which she hated. After a few rounds of musical swings, we finally ended up side by side on the hard-seated bench swings, kicking our feet off the frosty ground for momentum.

“You’re torn between the two of them,” Cassie said. “Aren’t you? I know my best friend. I knew you weren’t telling me something.” She giggled. “Ellie’s full of shit, isn’t she?”

I laughed. “Yeah, something like that.” On one level, that was totally true. I was torn, trying to choose between two things: Asher or Devin. The Order or the Rebellion. Self-preservation or heartbreak. Control—or finally letting go. And so far, I was just as undecided as my powers were. “So perceptive, Holmes.”

Cassie smiled. “Well, I’ve had years of practice. So what are you going to do?”

“Flip a coin?”

“Seriously, Skye.” She eyed me. “You already sort of know what you want to do, don’t you?”

I thought for a moment. Did I? Cassie seemed so sure; how was it possible that I wasn’t?

“I don’t know.”

Cassie kicked off the ground, flying forward in a graceful arc. “Well, if I know my best friend, I’m sure you’ll make the right decision. I have no doubts about that.”