Chasing Before (10 page)

I fake the most carefree laugh I can muster. “Maybe I have.”

Nate laughs too, and the way his eyes crinkle tells me that it is authentic. “It wouldn’t be the first time one of Neil’s girlfriends looked for an upgrade.” My eyes dart to
Neil’s closed door. I half expect him to come blazing out, ready to kick Nate where it counts.

“Who was that guy?” he asks in a bored tone, like he doesn’t care. Now that Julian is completely out of hearing range, Nate’s earlier flirtatiousness is gone. I guess it was all for show.

I match his tone. “Someone I knew when I lived in Germany.”

We stare at each other a long moment. He leans against the frame of Neil’s door like a drug dealer, overdone casualness with an undertone of menace. “Won’t you invite me in?” he asks, the subject of Julian apparently tucked away to be exploited at a later date. “I believe we have something to discuss.” Yeah, like the fact that he has hooked me on my stolen memories. What will it cost me to get another fix?

As much as I’d like to send him away, I play along. I usher him in and materialize a small table between two chairs and take a seat. The more this looks like a study environment, the less he’s going to get the wrong idea. “So you were checking on Neil?” I ask.

“He’s sleeping.” Nate flexes his arms as he sits down, as if he can’t help but show off his muscles.

Nate’s comment confuses me. I haven’t been able to sleep since I died, even though Neil seems to have managed it. I materialize a bottle of nail polish—clear but with flecks of gold—to have something to do with my hands. “Do you sleep too? Are these dorm rooms for sleeping?” I ask.

“That’s not all they’re good for.” Nate’s heavy-lidded stare makes me squirm.

“I’m sure no one knows that better than you do.” I smile sweetly, but I’m barfing on the inside. I concentrate on the polish brush, making sure the stroke is even.

He grins. “There are so many notches in my bedpost, it’s in danger of collapse.”

“You must be positively swarming with STDs.”

“Nah, none of that here.” Nate waves his hand, dismissing what he presumes is my concern for his health. “It’s like heaven even though it isn’t. All the pleasures of sex with none of the complications.”

I highly doubt there are no complications. I mean, maybe Nate’s okay with bed hopping, but the girls he’s with likely expect more, unless they have moved beyond emotional pain in addition to physical pain. That sounds wrong to me. If you’re not in it emotionally, where’s the passion? What’s the point? I can’t imagine my first time with Neil being only some physical exchange.

Physical. The word dredges out what Kiara said about our bodies here being projections of our minds. I grip the polish brush too tightly, and knock over the bottle, so that a gold stream pools out onto the table. If everything we feel is not a result of nerve endings but the memory of the feeling those nerve endings used to produce, then what if you’ve never felt something before? What if I can never know what having sex feels like because I never had it on Earth?

Nate notices my agitation. “What’s wrong?”

“What about virgins?” I blurt.

“Not my type. Too clingy.” Nate is not going to win any sensitivity awards, that’s for sure.

“No, I mean, can virgins feel anything during afterlife sex?”

Nate scoffs. “How would I know?”

“Never mind.” I’ll obviously have to go to someone else with my concerns. Time to change the subject. “Tell me more about sleeping.”

“We don’t actually sleep.” His voice is now robotic, as if he has switched over to a mentor mode and is reciting from a manual. “That’s a biological function that’s as obsolete in the afterlife as breathing and eating. Sleep is more like advanced meditation. It’s a way for us to process our learning and development and grow stronger in our chosen path. Some people take to it naturally, like Neil. Others need more practice.”

“Okay.”

“You’re boring me. I’m out of here.” Nate gets up and turns to go.

“Wait.” I take a steadying breath. “I have a favor to ask. I need to view another memory.”

Nate’s smile is tarnished with so much gloat, it makes me gag. This is exactly what he wanted me to say. “I can’t do that.”

I step closer to him. He can. He just doesn’t want to. “Why not?”

He closes the gap between us, and I force myself not to
back away. Instead I smile up at him as nicely as I can manage.

Nate leans over and says clearly into my ear, “You do have something that I want.” He places his hands lightly on my hips and pulls me toward him until our bodies touch. I’m revolted that he’d betray his brother.

“Is that so?” I brace myself inwardly, and suck in my breath as his lips near mine. I will shove him away if he tries anything.

“Yes, but clearly it’s not what you think.” He taps my nose twice and steps back, frowning.

I duck my head and let my hair fall over my face to hide the flame on my cheeks. This is super-awkward. “I didn’t think
that
.”

He doesn’t challenge my fib. “I’ll show you a memory, but then you also have to do me a favor.”

Hope blooms in my chest, but then it’s tempered with suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I trust you’ll hold up your end of the bargain when the time comes?”

A blank check is a dangerous proposition. But he knows I’m desperate and that I won’t refuse him, even though I’ll most certainly regret it later. “Of course.”

“What memory would you like to see?”

That’s an excellent question. Since I can’t rely on him to show me more memories later, this might be my one and only chance to find out what became of Neil and me. But on the other hand I also need as much context as possible, so skipping ahead to some random memory might not be the
best idea either. “What was the next time you saw Neil and me together? After the hospital?”

Nate nods. “Give me your hand.”

I raise my palm eagerly, and as soon as our skin connects, the memory transfer begins and I am inside Nate’s head again.

These roses better be worth it.
Nate can tell by the way the nurse at the front desk is eyeing him that she wishes they were for her.
Nope. Sorry, lady. You are so not my type.

Nate saunters down the hall toward Neil’s room. His father told him that Neil is being discharged today. Neil won’t like that Nate’s the one to come pick him up, but Neil will have to deal with it.

Nate stands outside the half-closed door, about to nudge it open, when he hears Felicia’s strained voice and Neil’s frustrated grunt in reply. Nate leans in closer, relishing the chance to to eavesdrop on an argument.

“But it’d be so much cheaper,” Felicia says, with that annoying whiny edge women get that drives men to drink. “And we can get a two-bedroom if it makes you feel holier.”

“Look,” Neil says in an even, reasonable tone. “It’s a tough break that your dad has to sell Grammy’s house to pay her nursing home fees, but us living together is not the solution. Your dad suggested getting a roommate, right? Have you asked Savannah? Or Belen?”

Nate peeks into the room and sees Felicia with her arms around Neil’s neck, all lovey-dovey. “They’re both going to
school here, so they can live at home. And besides, I want it to be you I see when I get home from work and get up in the morning. I mean, Savannah is nice and all, but she’s got nothing on you in the kissing department.” She giggles and pecks him all over his face.

Neil raises his eyebrows. He’s out of his cast, but his leg is in a brace. “And how would you know that?” he asks, laughing.

“Maybe I better test you out again just to make sure.” She kisses him, and they tumble into Neil’s bed and fall quiet. Nate stands, impatient, for a good three minutes, but their lip-lock session doesn’t look like it will end anytime soon.

Nate raps against the door. They break apart, startled. Felicia adjusts her tank top and tucks it into her shorts, and Neil stumbles off the bed.

“Hey, you two.” Nate steps into the room, holding out the roses. “I brought you these, Felicia. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Felicia’s eyes light up when she sees the flowers, and she skips over and takes them from Nate with a smile and thanks. But Neil’s annoyed. No surprise there. “What are you doing here?” Neil asks. “I asked Dad to pick us up.”

“And Dad asked me.” Nate shrugs and points at an overstuffed duffel bag on the floor. “Is that ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Neil pushes it toward Nate with his good foot.

“Well, pick it up and let’s go,” Nate says.

Felicia slings a backpack over her shoulder. “Let me get
that for you,” Nate says, sliding it down her bare arm, making sure that his fingertips lightly brush her skin as he does.

She shivers. Exactly the reaction he was looking for. “Thanks, Nate.” She exchanges a glance with Neil, who rolls his eyes.

“You’ve been discharged and everything?” Nate asks as Neil shuffles toward the door with a noticeable limp. He doesn’t need crutches, but the bag slows him down.

“Yes,” Neil says. Felicia offers him her arm, but he declines. She bites her lip.

Nate can’t help thinking this is a perfect chance to stir up trouble. “So, where to?” he asks as they head down the hall toward the elevators.

“Home. Where else?” Neil answers.

“Thought maybe you two got yourselves an apartment. Or do you not plan on sticking around here after the summer?”

“We’ll be here another year at least.” Felicia scratches at a scab. “We’re working to save up for college. Neil deferred a year. And I . . . well, I still need to apply.” She hugs herself, squeezing so tightly, her knuckles go white. She glances at Neil. “I keep telling Neil we should get a place together—”

“It’s none of Nate’s business.” Neil grits his teeth.

“Oh, are you worried what the church will think if you live in sin?” Nate asks innocently, hitting the down button to call the elevator. “You could always get married. I mean, seriously, you two belong together. Everyone can see that.”

“We’ve known each other only a little more than seven
months.” Felicia fiddles with a charm that’s hanging from a chain around her neck. It looks like a beehive.

The elevator dings, and everyone steps in. “So what?” Nate says. “Time doesn’t matter. When it’s right, it’s right.” Not that he actually believes this, of course. Marriage is for suckers. Living with his mom and all her various husbands over the years taught him that.

Neil punches the button for the lobby, and the doors close. “Just drop it, Nate. In fact, why don’t you go? We’ll call a cab.”

“But that’s so expensive,” Felicia moans.

“Or we’ll take a bus, like you did to get here.”

The elevator descends. It’s old and it lurches, pitching Neil, who is unsteady on his feet, against the mirrored wall and making him drop his bag on his injured foot.

“Why don’t you let me carry that for you?” Felicia picks up his bag at the same time he does, and they both pull on the straps in a comical tug-of-war. The elevator doors open, and Neil reluctantly lets Felicia take his bag. She groans. “What do you have in here, bricks?”

Nate pulls the bag from her hand as they exit the elevator. He doesn’t find it heavy at all. “I’ll be your packhorse. And your chauffeur. No arguments.” He heads to the right, through the automatic doors that lead to the parking garage.

“Fine,” Neil mutters. “But let’s talk about something else.”

Nate smirks.
Showtime
. “I got the 411 on Gracie. Vic’s mom is still in touch with her mom.”

Neil sputters like someone’s hit him on the back, and then throws Nate a look of pure venom. Nate wasn’t aware that Neil was even capable of such a look.

“Gracie?” Felicia asks Nate, intrigued. “You mentioned her before. Is she an old friend of yours?”

Nate winks. “You could say that.”

Once at the car Nate pops the trunk and dumps the bags into it. He unlocks the doors and opens the front passenger door for Felicia.

“Neil should sit in front, with his brace and all.” She helps Neil get settled and then smiles when Nate opens the back door for her. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

Nate gets in and starts the engine. Neil stares straight ahead, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“So what did Vic tell you about Gracie?” Felicia tries for casual by sniffing the roses, but it’s obvious she’s deadly curious.

As Nate maneuvers the car out of the narrow parking spot, he glances over at Neil, whose jaw is set so tight that his face is twitching. “She is thinking of coming back for a visit,” Nate says. “She hasn’t set foot in Ohio in years. I don’t blame her, after what happened.”

“Oh, well, that will be nice for her family.” Felicia looks like she wants to ask more but is too polite. But that doesn’t matter. She’ll definitely be pumping Neil for details later, so mission accomplished. Nate can’t help grinning.