Read Of Breakable Things Online

Authors: A. Lynden Rolland

Tags: #Paranormal, #Love & Romance, #teen, #death, #Juvenile Fiction, #love and romance, #afternlife, #Ghosts, #young adult romance, #paranormal romance

Of Breakable Things (10 page)

Because your fingers don’t exist anymore
, her intuition answered for her.
It’s all in your head.

It was jarring nonetheless, so she turned to survey the room, noticing details that she’d overlooked in her fatigue the previous night. A large misshapen clock hung above the wooden desk, its hands indicating the time without ever seeming to move, without ever ticking. It was affirmation that time could stand still in this world, yet somehow keep moving. She found a standard note of greeting and an itinerary so painfully similar to a high school schedule that when Alex picked it up, she grimaced. Today she would be subjected to psychology, intro and history. Tomorrow it would be science, sensory development, and physics. There was also a footnote about periodic general education. The absurdity of death workshops made her laugh aloud, and she could have sworn she saw the walls pulsate, inhaling her merriment.

“Good Lord,” Alex murmured. “I should have brought my backpack.”

She had hours before her first scheduled appointment. It was no use trying to go back to sleep. She was jittery with anticipation for what the day would bring. There was only one source of entertainment in the room: the wall that was corner to corner, ceiling to floor, stuffed with books.

One of these should put me back to sleep
, she figured.

She extracted the thickest one:
Eidolon Greats: A Compilation of Biographies
. This seemed too structured, so she replaced it and ran her fingers along the spines of the others.
Introduction to Eidolon and the Surrounding World
. Maybe she could skim through it.

Poised in the middle of the room, an arm chair stood like a lone island, out of place. It looked like an antique, thick and heavy, the type of furniture that would usually merit the phrase “They don’t make ’em like this anymore.” Alex pushed it over to the French doors so she could occasionally glance up and feel at ease that her new world was still there. She curled her feet under her legs and propped the book on her lap.

Her brain devoured the text, a paragraph per second, retaining the information easily. She read until her head ached, the anchors of information weighing down her mind, and she was shocked to discover she’d read nearly four hundred pages. No wonder there were so many books in her room. It would probably only take her a week to read them. With a brain like this, school wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She gathered the appropriate books and turned, tripping over a backpack that she was positive had not been there before. It was identical to the one she’d owned in life. Coincidence? According to Kaleb, there were none.

She made her way to the door, which gracefully swung open of its own accord. It seemed to know her hands were full. She even would have thanked it if she hadn’t been distracted by a girl across the hall. Her back was to Alex, covered in a fuzzy lion’s mane of bushy grayish hair.

The girl spun around at that moment to find Alex there and dropped several of her books. “Oh!” she said in surprise.

Alex smiled in greeting, but the girl scooped up her books and scurried down the hall.

That was weird,
Alex thought, trailing behind. When she reached the winding ramp, an arm was flung in front of her face, chopping the air like the swing of an ax and preventing her from following.

“You should wait a few more seconds,” Tess-the-Pest advised. “Just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

Tess didn’t respond. Instead, she made a face like she’d swallowed a mouthful of lemon juice.

“Who is that?” Alex asked.

“Calla Bond. No doubt going to fetch her brother. I have no idea why that girl is on our floor.”

Bond. So she wasn’t tied to a tree outside.

Tess’s lips moved slightly while she eyed the ramp, counting the seconds since Calla had left. “Okay. We should be good now.”

Bewildered, Alex journeyed around the ramp and down to the vestibule. Tess walked a straight path, maintaining her statuesque posture, and spirits scampered out of the way when they saw her coming. The air around her screamed authority so loudly that Alex fought the desire to cover her ears.

They passed the fountain, and Alex noticed it now contained a misty, white substance. Tess held out her arm and wiggled her fingers along the surface of the captive cloud. “I’ll show you to your first class.”

It wasn’t an offer but a command. Alex had been planning to wait in the vestibule until one of the Lasalles appeared. She felt anxious without them, but something told her that disobeying Tess was a bad idea.

They stepped outside into another gray day. Drops of moisture speckled the cool air like water on a camera lens. The spirits occupying the tables littered around the square didn’t seem to mind. Tess passed a bench with two sharp-featured boys with beak-like noses and nodded in greeting. “My brothers,” she explained.

Alex scanned the courtyard, searching for the Lasalles, but the only spirit she recognized was Calla Bond, who tramped up the steps of the school, constantly watching her feet like the ground might crumble beneath her. She bent down to adjust the cuff of her jeans, and someone bumped her shoulder and knocked her sideways onto the ground.

Alex began to voice her disapproval when she nearly tumbled over a jagged slice of the bench that was overlooked during the cleanup.

“The bench was your doing, wasn’t it?” Tess asked, coming to a stop.

“Self defense.”

Tess glanced in her direction. “I heard you didn’t run. I’d be careful if I were you. Anyone who missed the first display is going to be chucking heavy objects at you to see a live encore.”

Alex hadn’t thought about that and felt a strike of paranoia, but everyone in the courtyard seemed preoccupied. The two girls at the table nearest to Alex and Tess were seated opposite one another. One was holding flashcards of random objects while the other girl had her eyes shut tightly. “Apple, hammer, moon,” she whispered. Alex’s mouth fell open.

“Meditation activity,” Tess explained curtly with a wave of her hand. “So how did you do it?”

“What?”

Tess took an exaggerated step over the stray mound of rock. She kicked it with her heel and began to walk again. “Control it.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I saw the bench coming, and then I just felt a pain in my head.”

“I’m sure you could do it again if you tried.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“It isn’t typical, you know. Being able to do that on your first day. You must have family here.”

Alex remembered what Jonas had said about Tess and her self-righteous cult. “I have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Tess remained quiet until they reached the stone doors of the school. “What session do you have first?”

“Psychology.”

The doors lurched open, revealing an entrance hall. Hushed voices of students and loud chirping reflected off the walls, echoing all the way to the tip of the fan vault ceiling. Alex breathed in the smell of fresh paper and pencil lead.

The largest of three staircases greeted them front and center, leading to three levels of balconies, similar to the structure of Brigitta Hall. Two rippling staircases hugged the walls on either side and disappeared under dark archways.

Alex stood closest to the rightmost staircase, where she noticed artistic calligraphy carved into the stone that read “To the Grandiuse.”

Below the writing and at her feet jumped no less than five hundred tiny blue birds, chirping on the shiny black floor.
How
something so unusual was the last thing she noticed was evidence that she was beginning to expect the unexpected.

“What is this?” Tess lifted her leg and skipped over one of the creatures. The large elaborate tail feathers of the miniature peacocks fanned out behind them.

“These aren’t usually here?” Alex asked. One of the birds pecked at her ankle, but she felt nothing.

“No! Absolutely not!”

And then Alex heard Tess inhale sharply like she’d been stung. Calla Bond had appeared beside them. Tess attempted to move away, but the entryway was much too crowded.

“What’s going on?” Alex heard Calla ask a nearby student.

In response, the boy grabbed his ear and slunk away. Despite the obvious distraction, Alex noticed that every eye in the room had shifted from the flock of blue birds to focus on Calla, but no one waved, smiled, or spoke to her.

Alex couldn’t help but rubberneck at the strange girl too, until a shadow fell over them. A man entered the hall. His long coat billowed behind him, and he waved his burly arms. The force of his motions sent a furious gust through the entryway, impelling each student to the wall like bugs to flypaper, Alex included. She craned her neck to watch the man swish his arms, the conductor of a squawking orchestra. He created a swirling maelstrom to eat up each and every bird. His wild hair strewed erratically across his face, which trembled in concentration.

He filled the vortex and began to march out the door, but stopped abruptly to frown back at the newburies. Alex couldn’t tell if his focus was on her or Tess or Calla—perhaps all three—but the weight of his stare made Alex feel faint. And then he was gone, the chirping tornado following behind him.

Alex released herself from the wall. “Who,” she gasped, “was that?”

“Good question. I’ve never seen him before.” Tess rubbed her head and moved away from Calla. “I need to go find my brothers. Just take that center staircase to the second floor. Hang a left, and it’s the first door. Your doctor will be waiting.”

Alex was confused. “What doctor?”

“For psychology. You have a meeting, right? What were you expecting?” Tess huffed impatiently.

She’d been expecting a class, not therapy! She’d had enough of that when she was alive. Dread crept in and set up camp.

When Alex reached the room labeled psychology, she waited for the door to open, but it didn’t. She wondered if this room wanted her to make the decision for herself.

The circle of white chairs was empty, but she still felt she was disturbing something. The dimly lit space had a life of its own and the lingering aura of something that tasted like stale grief.

She tiptoed past a desk that supported stacks of tattered accordion folders stuffed with yellowed papers. Each folder had the name
Crete Reynes
stenciled elegantly at the bottom, and they were all labeled the same:
Paradise
. She lowered herself to a seat and set down her new belongings, feeling haunted. She couldn’t accept the atmosphere of the room. The emotions that lived here were not her own. Someone else had left them behind.

She pulled her feet up onto the chair and hugged her knees tightly, and then she felt him. She closed her eyes and breathed in the same air she’d sensed in Miss Petra’s classroom, like a storm had blown through with Chase saddled on the breeze. Was it his sorrow she could taste?

Sadness or not, she reveled in his presence, so minutes later when someone else overshadowed it, disappointment tapped her on the shoulder. “Hello there.”

The voice belonged to a skinny little boy with limbs that had never quite filled out and an outdated haircut. Her heart lifted when she recognized the adorable face of Ellington Reynes. The walls seemed to sigh and relax, perhaps happy to see him, too.

“Why are you here?”

Ellington beamed. “Some people call me Dr. Reynes, but I would prefer if you continued to call me Ellington.”


You’re
the shrink?”

“There are several of us, but yes, I am one of them. All part of my job description. Who better to analyze the newburies than someone who has already seen their past?”

She liked Ellington, but Alex had never had a positive experience with therapy. She nodded toward the circle of chairs. “You enjoy all this?”

“It’s in my genes,” he explained. “For the most part, I do enjoy it. I like helping the newburies adjust to this world, to find peace with it. I do believe that peace is my purpose.”

Alex rested her chin on her knees, condensing into a tighter ball of vulnerability. “Is this where you met my mother?”

Ellington pulled his mouth tight as though this would keep too many words from escaping. “Yes.”

Alex scooted closer and waited for him to share more.

“We had to spend a great deal of time together. Those who have gifted minds usually need a bit more help.”

“She was gifted?”

“No. But it was expected she would be.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand at this time. We have plenty to discuss, and your mother is a topic for later.”

Alex relented, but the ache didn’t subside. “How is it possible to still feel my heart?”

“Your mind makes it so. Old habits die hard. I still bite my nails.” He held out his little hand to show her and then patted her knee. “You can relax. No need to be afraid here. It’s a safe zone.”

“It doesn’t feel safe at all.”

“Don’t be afraid of the things that have been left here. You can leave things too. Things you don’t want or need anymore.”

Alex surmised he was not talking about tangible things. “I don’t think I belong here, Ellington.”

“Everyone says that at some point. I’ll confess I didn’t expect it from you.”

“No, I don’t mean
here
, like afterlife here. I don’t belong here in this room.” Alex said in exasperation. “I don’t need therapy. I hate therapy.”

“Everyone needs to talk about their death.”

“That’s just it. I’ve spent an entire lifetime talking about death. You should know that if you saw some ‘movie trailer’ of my life.”

He thumbed through his papers. “Alexandra Ash. Seventeen. Ehlers-Danlos. Resident of Parrish and then the Eskers Rehabilitation Center. When were you diagnosed?”

“With insanity?” Alex was only half kidding.

“No, with Ehlers-Danlos.”

“Birth.”

“Hereditary … obviously.” He made a note on his legal pad.

“We’ve already discussed this, Ellington.”

“I know, but it is protocol. My reports must be documented and submitted to the powers that be. Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Where shall we start?”

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