Dead River (23 page)

After a moment, his body relaxes, and I feel his arms around me, too. It feels nice. I know he needs to be going, but I don’t want to let go. I press the side of my face against his chest, and he must be reading my mind because he says, “Aw, Kiandra, don’t you worry.”

I tilt my head back and he’s looking down at me, trying to smile, but I can see the heaviness in his eyes. So I push myself up on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his. Mine are cold and his are so blazing hot, but it’s not his warmth that makes me cling to him. It’s something else. Maybe it’s that in all my time with Justin I never felt this complete bliss, his body making me feel whole. Trey holds me closer, his lips on mine, and soon everything else is forgotten and we’re lost in each other. Finally, breathless, I pull away from his mouth, and he nibbles along my jaw until he finds my earlobe. “Kiandra,” he whispers, and then he says something that sounds very much like “I love you.”

But before I have a chance to respond, to look into his eyes and see if he really meant it, the world dims. And everything disappears.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I
blink awake, only to find myself lying in the soft pine needles. It’s dark and bitingly cold, and the only sound is the rushing of water. My body is numb from the cold. Cold! I feel cold. I pull up my shirt and run my hand along the smooth skin of my belly. I sit up quickly and realize the fingers of my other hand are wrapped around something. I open them, and in the moonlight I can just make it out. A wilted flower petal.

Flowers? From where?

And suddenly it hits me. The Outfitters, and me swaying with Justin under the swirling disco lights. The corsage he gave me, crumpled and wilted.

I gasp. I ran away, and I slipped on the rocky embankment, and … then what?

Was it all just …

Could it have been …

And when I think of everything that has happened to me in the past twenty-four hours—somehow being stabbed, dying, meeting my mother, searching for my body, kissing
Trey—I know it. I bring my hand to my lips, and they’re frozen, stone. Of course. Of
course
none of that happened.

I stand up and start to run, and stop when a jagged pain rips through the back of my head. I hit my head, passed out cold. Who knows how long I’ve been out here, wherever
here
is? I’m surrounded by nothing but trees and inky darkness. I need to get to the Outfitters. I need to see my dad. Justin. Angela.

Because I can barely feel my legs, I’m nowhere near as graceful as I’d been in my dream—
was
it a dream? I stumble over the rocks, then fall to my knees and feel a rock dig into my flesh.
Now
I feel my legs. The pain makes me see fireworks. Fireworks. The bright colors of my dreamworld are gone. The beauty of the way everything struck me as if I were seeing it for the first time. Now everything is dull again, heartbreakingly so. I try not to concentrate on it as I find my way up the embankment, and yet that’s all I can see.

That is, until Trey appears before me.

He’s a ghost, I know, and for the first time, he looks that way. He’s tinged with blue, faded, yet so perfect. His face may not be clean-shaven, but his wounds are gone. He smiles at me.

I hear his voice, clear inside my head.
Everything is all right now. I’m moving on. Wanted to tell you something, though. I shouldn’t have denied it
.

“Kiandra!” a voice calls. It’s one I haven’t heard in centuries. I whirl around. Justin. He’s standing at the top of the embankment, the hood of a rain slicker hiding his face. But even
though I can’t see most of him, I can tell he’s stricken with relief and amazement. He starts to navigate his way down the rocky ledge, but by now I’m reaching for something that is just out of my grasp. Trey is walking away, in that same lazy, carefree way I’ve come to know.

“Trey!” I shout. “No! Just—”

Justin moves closer, ignoring my plea. “What?” he’s asking. He has his arms out, ready to envelop me, to pull me close to his big, strong body the way he has a thousand times.

“What’s wrong?”

Justin clutches me to him, and in the music of his heartbeat, I watch Trey walk to the river. I wish he’d just look back, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter. Everything is still, so still, except him. I need to run for him, to grab him, to tell him to come back. When I push myself away from Justin, there is no sound but the whistle of the wind, no movement but the dance of the leaves in the trees. Justin whispers, “You’re in shock. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

I push against his body with such violence that he steps back. “No!” I scream, but the second I do, Trey disappears, leaving nothing but an outline in my memory. I blink again and again, but he is gone. I turn to Justin. It’s him. He’s lured me back to reality, to his world, when I need to be in the other one. I need to be with the dead. But as I look around helplessly, I realize I have no idea how to get back. I clasp my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God. He’s gone.”

He moves closer, tentative, and scans through the pines. “Who is
he?
”

“Leave me,” I whisper into my hands. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying, but my palms are slick and salty with tears.

Suddenly a fireball bursts in the distance. I don’t even look at it, almost as if I expected it, and yet I don’t know where it came from. Justin steps back, his mouth forming an O. “What the—”

He starts to take a step toward it, but as I’m moaning “Please, can’t you leave me?” another fireball bursts behind us. It rocks Justin, and he steadies himself as I remain still. The rain begins to fall steadily now, and the fire melts to nothing, but Justin surveys the area, and I know that in all the years he’s been here, he’s never seen anything like it. But still he won’t leave.

“What the hell? We’ve got to get out of here, Ki.
Now
.”

“Leave me,” I beg, knowing there will be another eruption, possibly closer, if he stays. I don’t know how I know, but I know.

But I can’t expect him to leave. He’s just found me. Instead of obeying, he narrows his eyes. “Wait. You’ve been missing for nearly twenty-four hours and now you’re telling me you don’t want to be found? Jesus, Ki, did you do this on purpose? Because of me?”

I simply stare at the spot where Trey once stood. I can’t comprehend what Justin is saying. Because of him? Why
because of him? Everything from this world is strange, like walking into a foreign country. I turn to him as he tries to put his arm around me. Even he looks different. His arm around me feels different, heavier. Wrong.

“No, I didn’t do this on purpose,” I whisper, because I know that if I admit I did, I’d have to acknowledge that everything that happened to Trey is my fault.

And it is.

Why can’t I see him? Is he gone? Off to the next place? Away to where I will never see him again?

Tears flood my eyes again. I start to speak, to explain, but I don’t know how to explain this. Justin puts a warm hand over mine, and it’s only when my hand starts to sting in his that I realize my limbs are frozen. He says, “You’re like ice. You can explain later. Let’s go back. Your dad is waiting for you.”

My dad
. It’s those words that lift me. Justin helps me to my feet, and they feel like they’re tethered to the ground with elastic bands as I walk unsteadily toward the path that will lead us to the rest of civilization. To my old life. How can it be that it’s only been a day since I’ve been part of it? I slump against Justin, and the one thing that feels familiar is how effortlessly he piles me into his arms. In the rhythm of his footfalls, I’m lulled to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

W
hen I wake, I’m in the middle of a big, fluffy bed piled high with white comforters and pillows. It’s Angela’s cabin, bright lacquered log walls covered in rustic frames holding wilderness scenes, windows open to the green pine boughs outside. I prop myself up on my elbows and inspect my white nightgown, unable to recall where or when I got such a strange piece of clothing. As I’m contemplating the contents of the bag I dragged up here, there’s a creaking in the doorway, and Trey appears.

He’s perfect. His face may not be clean-shaven, but his wounds are gone. He smiles at me.

This isn’t real, is it?
I don’t say it. I don’t need to say it. He understands every word. He nods and slips a hand behind my neck, pulling me up to him in the most real kiss I’ve ever felt in my life. His lips burn mine, etching a permanent impression there. When he pulls away, I reach for him, wanting more, and when my hands graze his skin, I hear his voice, clear inside my head.

I’m moving on. Wanted to tell you something, though. I shouldn’t have denied it
.

No
, I say.
Don’t. Say it to me when you’re holding me for real. Because you’re not moving on. I won’t let you
.

You’re not moving on
. My eyes flicker open. Unlike in my dream, this time the room is bathed in darkness. There is no strip of light under the door; the only brightness comes from the moon peeking through the pines. It’s late. My skin feels clammy, all except for my lips, which still burn from the kiss.

I won’t let you
.

I stare at my hands, wondering what I could have meant. And all at once I remember the fireballs in the forest. The bright explosions that bewildered me and Justin.

They were mine. I created them myself.
With my powers
.

I pull off the covers and I’m wearing only a long thermal T-shirt, but I don’t think about the cold. I run barefoot down the stairs and out into the night as a chorus of owls hoots a welcome. I rush to the darkness, letting it envelop me, no longer afraid of what it might bring. I do not fear what is out here. Somehow, even in the darkness, I can find the place I’d last seen him.
Take me there, please. Take me to him
.

“Trey,” I whisper.

And suddenly he is lying before me, in the clearing, the moonlight making the sweat glisten on his forehead and bare chest. It’s the only thing that glows, because there is no shine left in him. His eyes are closed, but they flicker a bit when I approach him.

“Hey, you,” he mumbles.

“Hey,” I say, drawing his head onto my bare knees.

“I thought you were gone for good,” he says.

I wipe a tear from my eyes. “I thought the same thing about you.”

I think he tries to shrug, because his body tenses. “Soon.”

I shake my head. “Look, did you really mean what you … didn’t say?” I realize it’s stupid. I dreamed it. But there’s no time for it now. “Do you love me? Because I think I love you. Actually, I know I do.”

His mouth spreads into a smile. “Since I first met you. You and your attitude and your fancy-shmancy fishing pole.”

“What? Are you serious?” I sputter through tears. I can barely see him.

“You think I did all that for your momma because of
her
? It was for
you
, kid. Always you.” He reaches up to touch my face, but his hand falls back. I know he is too weak.

I know I don’t have much time. “I guess you were right about me. I am stronger than I’d thought,” I whisper, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. His forehead is strangely warm when I press my fingers against it. “And there’s this thing I think I can do.”

Just let this work
, I pray as I close my eyes and concentrate on the one thing I know I really want.

Epilogue

FOUR MONTHS LATER

I
whisper my secrets to the river. I know she can hear them. I know that she loves me, and that I will see her again. I blow a kiss across the waves, and I know, I just know, that on the other side, she will be there to catch it. That she has always been there.

And that the river always gives us a chance to wipe away our past mistakes and start anew.

I look up to the branches hanging over me. It’s a perfect day in September, warm but not hot, and the leaves and branches are still vibrant green with life. Up the embankment, Justin and Angela are setting up the tent. Yes, a tent. We’re going fishing. And I was the one who suggested it. Mostly because homecoming is next weekend and I’ve made tuxedos and high heels mandatory. I think of my boyfriend in a tuxedo instead of dirty jeans and my heart begins to flutter.

I climb up to where Justin and Angela have just about
everything under control. Angela and Justin are piling kindling, piece by piece. They are so cute together, it makes me wonder why they never got together sooner. Oh, right, there was a little something standing in the way. Me.

Angela looks up at me and wipes the sweat from her brow, clearly excited. I know the outdoors makes her a little giddy, but I’ve really never seen her as happy as she’s been for the past few months. “You know, scary story time is
on
,” she says. “I’ve got a good one, Honey Bunches, so you’d better grab your teddy bear.”

“I’m right here,” a voice says behind me. It’s Trey, and he’s gnawing on a Slim Jim and grinning down at me. He is now addicted to them. Apparently they didn’t have them back in his old life. He’s being corrupted by a lot things, though. Wii, Hostess Sno Balls, the Fishing Channel. He’s gained weight, which, even though it makes him more of a teddy bear, has also made him better-looking.

He’s also had to get used to wearing shoes. When he walks to meet us, he stumbles a bit in his hiking boots, then straightens himself. He looks from one of us to the other. “What’s going on?” He holds up the Slim Jim. “Okay that I swiped this from the food bag?”

It’s only then I realize that Angela is also staring at him, openmouthed. I nudge her to stop. She says, “Sure, knock yourself out.” Then, when he walks away, she mutters, “God, he is so hot. Where did you find him, again?”

I grin at her. “You’re not going to steal
him
from me, too?”

She grins back. Angela the boyfriend stealer. She spent
weeks apologizing to me, until I finally got it through her head that I was okay with it. More than okay. I was happy. And it wasn’t just because I had Trey. Some things are just meant to be.