wondered? Was I going completely crazy or was this
bizarre party to blame?
I jumped when the screen door slammed. Mol y
appeared on the porch.
“Beth, there you are!” She seemed relieved to see me
and leapt down the steps. “Way to freak me out! I didn’t
know where you’d gone.” Her gaze swept disdainful y over
Ryan and his cohort. “What are you doing with
them
?”
“Ryan was just helping me,” I mumbled.
“I’m a helpful person,” Ryan declared indignantly.
Mol y caught sight of the hand-rol ed cigarette in his hand.
“Are you high?” she demanded as she thumped his
shoulder.
“Not high,” Ryan clarified. “I believe the term is
greened
out
.”
“You loser!” Mol y erupted. “You’re supposed to be
driving me home. No way am I spending the night in this
creepy dump.”
“Quit your whining, I drive better high,” Ryan said.
“Sharpens my senses. By the way, I think I need a bucket …
.”
“If you’re gonna puke, don’t do it near me,” Mol y
snapped.
“I think we should cal it a night,” I said to her. “Wil you
help me find Xavier?” My suggestion was met with a swel
of protest from Ryan and his friends.
“Sure,” said Mol y, rol ing her eyes at them. “I doubt
tonight could get any weirder.”
We had just headed back toward the house in search of
Xavier when the sound of a motorcycle tearing through the
grass caused us to turn around. There was something
urgent about the way it screamed to a halt in front of us,
spraying gravel through the air. Mol y shielded her eyes
against the glow of the headlights. The rider slid off in one
easy movement but left the engine running. He was
dressed casual y in a worn aviator-style leather jacket and
backward basebal cap. I recognized the tal , wel -built boy
immediately as Wesley Cowan. Xavier and I passed his
house every Friday afternoon on our way home from
school. Wes would inevitably be crouched in his driveway
polishing his dad’s old Merc in preparation for a weekend
of partying. Wes played on Xavier’s polo team and I knew
he numbered among his closest friends. Like Xavier, Wes
was one of the hardest boys to rattle. There was very little
that succeeded in shaking his air of confidence. It was
surprising to see him now with his shirt muddy and his face
creased with worry.
Instinctively Mol y reached out to grab his arm.
“Wes, what’s wrong?”
His chest heaved as he struggled to get the words out.
“There’s been an accident at the lake,” he gasped.
“Someone cal 911!”
Ryan and his friends sobered in an instant, col ectively
withdrawing cel phones from their pockets.
“No reception,” Ryan announced after a few minutes of
trying. He shook his cel in frustration and cursed under his
breath. “We must be out of range.”
“What happened?” Mol y asked.
Before he spoke, Wesley threw me a strange look; it was
almost imploring, like he was seeking my forgiveness.
“We dared him to dive-bomb from a tree but there were
rocks in the water. He hit his head. He won’t wake up.”
As he spoke, his gaze never left my face. Why was he
singling me out like this? I’d remained silent, but now a cold
panic seized me, wrapping around me like icy fingers. It
wasn’t Xavier. It couldn’t be Xavier. Xavier was the
responsible one who had gone down there to keep an eye
on the others. Xavier was probably down there right now,
using his first-aid training until help arrived. But I knew my
heart wasn’t going to stop pounding until I knew for certain.
Someone else asked the question I couldn’t bring myself to
utter.
“Who’s hurt?”
Wesley’s eyes looked guilt ridden and he hesitated a
fraction too long, so I knew the answer before he spoke the
name out loud.
“Woods.” It came out as a bland statement of fact, devoid
of emotion, which didn’t strike me as odd until later when I
replayed the scene in my head. But in that moment, al I
could feel were my legs giving way beneath me. My worst
fear—much greater than anything happening to me—was
that any harm should come to Xavier, and now it had just
come true. For a second it was too much to take in and I
sagged helplessly against Ryan, who tried to hold me up,
despite his own lack of balance. So this was what Xavier
and I got as reward for spending time apart. I couldn’t
believe fate could be so cruel. The one night our paths
diverged he ended up unconscious. Wes put his head in
his hands and groaned.
“Man, we are so screwed.”
“Was he drunk?” Ryan asked.
“Course he was,” Wes snapped. “We al were.”
In al the time we’d been together I’d never known Xavier
to have more than a couple of beers. I’d never seen him
touch hard liquor; he thought it was irresponsible. I couldn’t
reconcile the image of him drunk and reckless in my head.
It didn’t add up.
“No,” I said numbly. “Xavier doesn’t drink.”
“Yeah? Wel , there’s a first time for everything.”
“Shut up and cal an ambulance!” Mol y screeched. Then I
felt her arm around my shoulder and her auburn curls
brushed my cheek as she leaned her head against mine.
“It’s okay, Bethie, he’l be okay,” she said.
Wesley watched us. His panic seemed to have
transformed into a perverse delight in my distress. Others
had gathered now and everyone had an opinion to voice on
the best course of action. Their voices combined to create
a meaningless babble.
“How bad is it? Should we try getting him to a doctor?”
“We’re al screwed if we cal 911.”
“Oh, great idea,” someone retorted sarcastical y. “Let’s
just wait and see if he comes to by himself.”
“How bad is it, Wes?”
“I’m not too sure.” Wesley looked defeated. “He cut his
head. There was a fair bit of blood … .”
“Crap. We gotta get help.”
The image of Xavier lying on the ground bleeding
spurred me to action.
“I have to find him!” I was already stumbling toward
Wesley. “Someone show me the way to the lake!” Mol y
was suddenly by my side, her hands gripping my shoulders
both restraining and comforting.
“Calm down, Beth” she said. “Can somebody drive her?”
“Don’t be stupid, Mol y, the lake’s in the woods,” Ben
said. “You can’t get there by car. Someone drive into town
and cal a friggin’ ambulance.”
I couldn’t waste another second listening to their facile
deliberations when Xavier was hurt and my healing powers
could help him.
“I’m going,” I announced, breaking into a run.
“Wait! I can take you.” Wes had suddenly reverted back
to his former concern. “It’s faster than runnin’ in the dark,” he
added weakly, as if he knew that taking me to Xavier would
in no way exonerate his involvement in the accident.
“No,” Mol y said protectively. “You should stay here while
we try and get a doctor.”
“What about cal ing his dad?” someone suggested. “He’s
a surgeon, isn’t he?”
“Good idea. Find his number.”
“Mr. Woods is a cool guy, he won’t report us.”
“Yeah and how are you gonna contact him without
reception?” Ben sounded exasperated. “Telepathy?”
I was struggling to keep my wings from bursting free and
carrying me to Xavier. It was my body’s natural reaction,
and I didn’t know if I could contain them much longer. I
looked impatiently at Wesley.
“What are we waiting for?”
By way of reply he mounted the bike and offered me his
arm so I could use it to wedge myself in behind him. The
shiny motorcycle glinted like some alien insect in the
moonlight.
“Hey! What about a helmet?” Ben asked churlishly as
Wes kicked the bike into gear. He resented the school
jocks and their daredevil antics. I could see in his face that
he was also concerned about my safety given Wesley’s
questionable level of responsibility. I understood that Ben
was only being protective, but right then I had only one
objective in mind and that was to get to Xavier.
“No time.” Wes was curt. He reached back to grab both
my arms and positioned them securely around his waist.
“Hold on tight,” he instructed. “And whatever you do, don’t
let go.”
The bike spun around before careening down the
driveway and out toward the black ribbon of highway.
“Isn’t the lake the other way?” I shouted over the roar of
the engine.
“Shortcut,” Wes bel owed in reply.
I tried reaching out to Xavier to sense the extent of his
injuries. But I drew a blank. It surprised me; I could usual y
sense his moods even before he did. Gabriel had told me I
would know immediately if he were ever in trouble. But this
time I’d missed it. Was it because I’d been too busy
stressing out over a ridiculous seance?
Wes had just turned onto the highway and begun to pick
up speed when I heard a voice cal ing my name from
behind. Even over the din of the engine I knew it was a
voice I loved more than any other and I’d been waiting to
hear it al night. It revived me. Wes swerved the bike
around, and I saw Xavier standing, washed in moonlight, on
the side of the road. My heart lightened immediately. He
looked perfectly healthy.
“Beth?” he repeated my name in a cautious tone. He was
standing just meters away from us and I was so excited to
see him in one piece that it didn’t even occur to me that
anything might be amiss. I didn’t stop to wonder why Xavier
looked so surprised to see us.
“Where are you guys going?” he asked. “And, Wes,
where the hel did you get that bike?”
“Xavier!” I cried out in relief. “Thank God, you woke up!
How’s your head? Everyone’s so worried. We need to get
back and tel them you’re okay.”
“My head?” he asked, the consternation on his face
deepening. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the accident! Maybe you have a
concussion. Wes, let me off this thing.”
“Beth, I’m fine.” Xavier scratched his head. “Nothing
happened to me.”
“But I thought—,” I began and then stopped short. Not
only did Xavier look fine but there wasn’t a mark on him and
no evidence of an injury. He looked exactly the way he did
when I’d left him, in jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. I saw
Xavier’s posture shift subtly into a more defensive stance.
His ocean blue eyes darkened as understanding dawned.
“Beth,” he said slowly. “I want you to get off that bike.”
“Wes?” I tapped him lightly on the shoulder, suddenly
aware that he hadn’t spoken a single word for the entire
duration of my conversation with Xavier. The bike was stil
vibrating beneath me and yet the person in front of me
remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead.
Xavier strained to take a step forward, but something
prevented him and he remained rooted to the spot. He tried
to keep his voice level, but I couldn’t miss the undercurrent
of urgency.
“Beth, did you hear me? Get off
now
!”
I planted both feet on the ground in order to appease
Xavier, but when I tried to shift my arms from around
Wesley’s waist, he suddenly revved the engine and the bike
shot backward. I had to clutch him even tighter to avoid
fal ing off.
Until that moment I stil thought the whole thing was an
elaborate hoax on Wesley’s part that Xavier failed to find
amusing. Then I saw Xavier run a hand helplessly through
his hair and watched his forehead crease in anguish. I saw
a look in his eyes I hadn’t seen since that fateful afternoon
in the cemetery when he’d been incapacitated and I’d been
captured before his very eyes. He wore that same look now
—the one that told me he was desperately searching for an
escape, even though he knew we were cornered. It was as
if he were facing off against a poisonous snake that might
strike at any moment and the slightest wrong move could
be fatal. Wes spun the bike in random circles, enjoying the
anxiety he was causing. Xavier yel ed out and tried to run
forward but an unseen force held him back. He gritted his
teeth and hurled himself against the invisible barrier
blocking his way, but it was no use. The bike careered
tauntingly in al directions.
“What’s going on?” I cried as the bike final y stopped and
settled into the dust. “Xav, what’s happening?”