Deep Blue Secret (17 page)

It didn’t even look like our house. My jaw fell as I glanced back and forth around the remodeled space; there was new furniture, new paint, even a new wood floor.

I looked at her with wide eyes. “Whoa, what did you do?”

She grinned. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“I love it!” I said.

I wasn’t even here to help her this time.

“When did you have time to do all this?” I wondered.

She’d spent a lot of extra time at the hospital with me this week. It was hard to believe there was time left over to do all this work.

“Well, I wasn’t sleeping much at first…” She saw the disapproval in my glare and changed direction. “Actually, Mark did most of it. I picked everything out, but he did the hard part.”

Mark? Wow, she actually used Dr. Jensen’s first name. She didn’t even flinch or correct herself. That seemed like a good sign. I almost mentioned my conversation with the handsome doctor to her, but it wasn’t the time. She had to run to work and this was a topic that would take time to discuss.

“That was so nice of him,” I said. “It looks amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Mom said. “It’s so good to have you home.”

A little moisture pooled in her eyes. She looked away to conceal her emotions.

I threw my arm around her. “Thanks, Mom. It’s great to be home.”

She smiled at me for a moment then threw up her hands in realization. “I have to go. I’m late for work.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.

The living room looked great but it was all different and new to me. I took a few minutes to walk around the rest of the house and take in the familiarities. It started to feel like home again. I saved my room for last. I threw my bag to the ground and landed myself face first on the bed to give it a big hug.

I turned on some cheerful music to welcome myself officially home and unpacked all the things that accumulated at the hospital. When I hung up my jacket in the closet, I noticed the large black hoodie hanging out of place in the corner. Rayne’s sweater; I forgot it was here. I yanked it down and held it close to my face. It didn’t smell right. The scent was too floral and breezy. My mom must have washed it while I was away.

I pulled on the sweatshirt immediately and wore it around my room. Even without Rayne’s scent, it still gave me a measure of comfort, like part of him was wrapped around me. I tried to enjoy the sweater while I could; I would have to take it off when Heather arrived. She wouldn’t approve of being seen in public with me dressed in a ragged boy-sweater; especially at the mall.

I peeled off the small Band-Aid concealing the birthmark on my wrist and tossed it in the trash. There was so much on my mind I’d almost forgotten about it. The color had changed again. It was still blue, but now it was darker like a sapphire. I wondered if it would stay blue or return to its usual pitch blackness.

I examined my eyes in the mirror at my Grandmother’s vanity. They were darker too, maybe even darker than they were normally. There had to be some connection there with my birthmark, but I didn’t get to ask Rayne any of my questions last night.

Maybe there would be a better chance when he returned later today. I took my watch from my jewelry box and secured it on my wrist.

I continued to clean up around the room, glancing several times at the face of my diary, even though it wouldn’t light up for several hours. I decided to buy a new diary while shopping with Heather today. I certainly couldn’t write anything private in my old one. It had an even better purpose now.

My cell phone chimed with the sound of an incoming text message and wishful thinking popped to the surface. I ran across the room. It could be a message from Rayne. My fingers fumbled with the phone buttons, revealing a message from Heather. Of course it was Heather. Logically this made a lot more sense; I just seemed to be forgetting logic lately.

Heather showed up a few minutes later to drive us to the outdoor mall at Fashion Island. Although my car had been towed back to my house by Heather’s dad, it still sat with a flat tire parked at the curb. Heather usually drove when we went out anyway. Her car was much newer than mine, with a working radio and air conditioning.

She was in a cheerful mood and hardly stopped between her excited chattering to breathe.

 “Everyone’s been talking about the dance around school today,” she said. “It’s going to be a blast. Julie just asked Connor to be her date, since she broke up with Darrin last week. She says they’re just going as friends, but I think they’ve secretly liked each other for a while now.”

I wanted to be excited with her, but I was disinterested in the usual talk about friends and school. I had this weird,
blah
feeling. Maybe because I’d been away from everything at school for so long, or I was tired from having so many secrets bottled inside—or maybe it was just too hard to act happy when I knew Rayne didn’t have feelings for me.

Heather and I barely made amends and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. I made an extra effort to disguise my mellow mood so she wouldn’t think I didn’t care.

“Julie and Connor seem like they’d be cute together,” I said optimistically.

“Julie wants to join our dinner group,” Heather said. “I told her I’d have to check with the restaurant, but I just called and they said it would be fine. That makes twelve of us now. Hopefully it won’t be too crazy with such a big group.”

“I think a big group will be fun,” I said.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “I can’t wait. So do you know what kind of shirts you want to look for?”

“I haven’t really had a chance to think about it. Any suggestions?”

“Well Nicole bought surf t-shirts for her and Brandon,” she said. “And Lindsey already bought hoodies for her and Zach. But I was thinking of doing something a little classier, you know, something both me and Nick will look really hot in.”

“I’m sure you’ll look hot together no matter what you end up wearing,” I promised. “The hard part will be finding something that matches, that’s in both guys’ and girls’ sizes.”

I was right; it was hard to find matching clothes for both us and our dates, especially with how picky Heather was being. She dragged me from store to store all afternoon in search of the perfect ensemble but never found what she was hoping for. I tried to pick out numerous possibilities, but there was always something she found wrong.
The colors don’t match close enough, this one looks good on me but it won’t look right on a guy, that style’s too outdated
.

I was getting tired and it wasn’t an easy charade to disguise my gloom for Heather’s benefit. I stopped in front of a bench along the outdoor walkway.

“Sit down for a minute,” I said. “Let’s take a break.”

Heather plopped down frustrated on the bench next to me. “Maybe I should just give up,” she said overdramatically. Once she had her heart set on something, it was hard to bring her expectations down to reality. It was usually my job to remind her.

“We still have a few stores left to look at,” I said. “And if you don’t find what you want there, we can always go back to those yellow sweaters we saw earlier. I thought you looked really cute in yours.”

After the short break, we continued on to the next store on Heather’s list, not giving up on her quest. Luckily, at the second store we went to she found a pair of red sweaters she seemed excited about. I sighed with relief when I realized her clothing crisis was finally resolved.

Now that her own situation was taken care of she focused all her attention on me.

I wasn’t sure what type of clothes Rayne liked, but as far as I could tell it wasn’t out of the ordinary. The night we’d met at the beach he wore typical beach attire, cargo shorts and a t-shirt—along with his black sweatshirt I’d claimed as my own. And the other night at the hospital he wore jeans and a long sleeve, crew neck shirt—kind of a nicer, casual look.

Sometimes I imagined him in a sleek, black suit, pointing a gun stealthily around corners like a government spy. It was a good look for him, but it was just my daydreams getting carried away.

With Heather’s help I decided on a pair of light blue, button-up shirts, his in a slim-fit, men’s style and mine in a flattering feminine cut. Heather had the rest of my outfit planned before the shirts were even paid for; dark indigo jeans, white camisole, and black heeled boots. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t in the mood to worry about clothes so she was doing me a favor.

Heather wanted to look at jewelry to add to our outfits. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last and I really wanted to buy a new diary at the bookstore. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with that idea so we agreed to split up and meet afterward.

The selection of diaries was limited, but I couldn’t expect any of them to live up to my old one. I checked in my bag for the hundredth time, hoping the stone would be lit on the purple book, signaling a new message from Rayne, but there was still no word from him.

I flipped through the blank pages of a boring black journal on display. My feelings of melancholy seemed to be growing. I stared at the different journals and diaries on the shelf not caring which one I bought. I grabbed one without thought and carried it to a lounge chair in the back corner of the maze of bookshelves.

As I sat blankly in the large chair, I found myself quietly singing to the song the store had playing over the speakers in the background. Worry lines creased my face as sadness crept in my heart. Was I going to have an emotional outburst right here in the large-chain bookstore?

The feelings weren’t too overwhelming at first, at least not as bad or sudden as some of the crazy spells in the past. It was more of a gradual onset. Maybe I could avoid becoming overwhelmed if I thought of something uplifting.

I pulled my old diary from my purse and flipped through the pages, searching for Rayne’s handwriting. I read through each of his messages again. It helped a little—at least I thought.

A new song hummed over the speakers that sent an unnerving shiver up my spine.

I wasn’t sure why the song bothered me. I didn’t know the name or who sang it, but it was strangely familiar; and I knew the lyrics for some reason. I sang a few whispered words without realizing I was doing it right away. The words rolled off my tongue in sync with the melody.

My body became still and rigid, as if caught in a metal vice. It felt like I recalled a memory, only I couldn’t remember what it was. It wasn’t a pleasant memory though, it was something sad. Suddenly I felt sick, my stomach turning into knots. I didn’t want to feel the sadness. I fought the feeling, pushed it away. I covered my ears and hummed inside my head to drown out the emotions.

It dragged on forever, but finally the song was over. To anyone else it would’ve been a perfectly nice song, but to me it felt like a punishment. I stayed in the chair, trying to pull myself together and bridle my emotions. It would be embarrassing to leave the store in tears. I focused on the new song that was playing—luckily, one that didn’t have negative sentiments attached—and took in deep calming breaths.

Once I had control of myself, I decided to buy the new diary and leave the store as quickly as possible.

I cleared my mind as best I could, sat upright in the cushy chair and unclenched my arms that hugged my old diary to my chest. I moved the book down to my lap and gazed at the center of the butterfly pattern. I’d waited all day for the light to shine and finally, when I needed it most, the purple glow appeared.

Contradicting emotions surged through my chest, both joy and pain. My mind was relieved, finally hearing from Rayne, yet my body continued to ache with sadness. Normally I would’ve flipped through the pages of my diary at lightning speed to see his message but my fingers moved apathetically through the book.

Tears glistened in the corners of my eyes when I finally reached his words on the page:

IS SOMETHING WRONG? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

The phrase sent a new flood of emotions clenching through me. Knowing he was there brought comfort, but also triggered a release of the feelings I was trying hard to suppress. The wetness that had only hovered on the surface of my eyes now ran in small streams down my face.

It felt like he’d read my mind. For a second I thought he knew how I was feeling, was somehow aware of my distress. But he couldn’t have known—could he? I wanted to poor out every thought in my heart to him but instead tried to hold it in, to brush it off as nothing. I quickly wrote:

I’m okay. I’m at the mall. I might go home soon though, I’m not feeling well.

That sounded casual, right? Like it was just a stomach ache or something.

I barely moved, aside from wiping my wet cheeks with my hand. I was glad there weren’t any shoppers nearby to witness my lack of self-control.  Rayne’s response surprised me a little as a new message appeared on the page:

NOT FEELING WELL PHYSICALLY OR EMOTIONALLY?

He saw right through me. I should’ve known. It was embarrassing enough that he read my past diary entries, I wasn’t about to tell him any
new
embarrassing moments too. I didn’t want him to think I was some sort of needy, emotional basket case.

Although, now that I thought about it, I was surprised he even needed to ask for clarification. For all I knew he was spying on me right now. It was hard to hide anything from him.

Even when I tried, he always figured things out in one way or another. He needed to know because it was his job. He didn’t care if I was a total head case; he just cared about doing his duty. There wasn’t much point in fighting it. I replied with the truth and wrote:

Mostly emotional I think.

I barely lifted my pen off the page before his writing appeared below mine:

I NEED TO SEE YOU. I’M NOT FAR.

I inhaled a happy breath. He needed to see me. I was probably reading into his words more than he meant, but it was hard not to feel hope. How was it possible to need someone as much as I needed him right now? I hated to admit it, but reading his words only multiplied my longing to be with him. I couldn’t get over how illogical it was to have such strong feelings for him so fast, but I was far past logic.

He wrote again:

CAN YOU MAKE IT HOME OR SHOULD I COME GET YOU? I CAN BE THERE IN 15 MINUTES.

Hiding here in this corner until Rayne came to my rescue was tempting, but I couldn’t ditch Heather. That wouldn’t be fair to her. I should at least meet back with her first; then I could tell her I was sick and ask her to drive me home.

I wrote back:

No, I can make it home. I’ll meet you there.

I shuffled through the rows of bookshelves, lowering my head to conceal my puffy eyes. I sent a text message to Heather explaining I was sick and asking her to meet me by the parking garage.

The sun lowered in the sky while Heather drove toward my house. I apologized multiple times for cutting the trip short and made sure she knew I appreciated her help in picking out my clothes for the dance. I didn’t want to take my unruly emotions out on her anymore. It wasn’t her fault I was completely mental.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out or something,” she said as we pulled into my neighborhood. “Should we call your mom?”

“No!” I blurted.

The last thing I wanted was to involve my mother. My unexpected outcry took both of us by surprise. She looked at me wide-eyed.

My gaze sunk back to my feet, the energy gone again. “I’ll be fine. It’s probably just something I ate.”

Concern riddled her face. “Are you sure? You’re almost turning green.”

I tried to straighten in my chair. “I’ll just lie down for a bit, it’s not a big deal.” I tried to convince myself too. Up until this point I was sure my aching was purely emotional, but now an uncomfortable pressure tossed in my stomach and my entire body felt weak.

As we neared my house I peered out the window at the empty curb. It took a moment to register, but as I pulled my bags from the back seat of Heather’s car it suddenly sunk in. Wasn’t my car parked at that same curb earlier today?

“I’ll see you at school,” I said, distracted.

Heather waved and drove away. I wandered down the mild slope of the driveway towards the street. The hollow feeling—that I was becoming all too familiar with—was spreading through my head.

I stood motionless at the edge of the street staring at the empty curb where my car should’ve been. I thought I should do something, react in some way, but I couldn’t move. My shopping bags slipped through my limp fingers to the street. I didn’t have the energy to retrieve them. Fresh tears sprouted in my eyes and the only movement I made was to blink.

Then a soft touch on my shoulder broke the hopeless trance. I turned around slowly not capable or willing to react any faster.

Was it just me or did his crystal eyes glow more vibrant than ever before?

 
Rayne!
I thought, delirious. But the words didn’t pass through my feeble lips. His face faded like a dream. Tiny sparkles of red and silver danced in front of me around his head. My limbs lost their strength and crumpled beneath me.

For a moment I couldn’t remember where I was, but Rayne’s face was enough to calm my disorientation. One of his hands cupped the back of my head as I glanced upwards from my place on the ground. The smoothness of his skin was almost enchanting; it was practically perfect, more beautiful than I’d ever seen it before.

It was too hard to resist. I reached my shaky hand to touch his cheek.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You…passed out…” His tone was upset and almost confused. “I treated you with Healing Water so you should be fine, at least for now, but I…”

He stopped, deep in contemplation, staring intently in my eyes. He didn’t seem to be looking at
me
exactly; it was more like he was examining my actual eyes, searching through them for something.

For the first time, his usual confidence was replaced with something else. I tried to judge what it was by the look on his face. It was insecure and almost…vulnerable.

My strength renewed and I sat up on the sidewalk. The dark cloud of emotion felt like it had faded. What had lifted it? Was it pure coincidence like I’d tried to convince myself in the past? I didn’t think I could believe that anymore.

Maybe it was simply Rayne’s presence that removed the pain. I knew he didn’t love me, but that didn’t change the comfort I felt at his return. Or was it the power of the Healing Water? Did it also heal emotional wounds?

Rayne sat next to me on the curb, surrounded by dark autumn sky. The light from his eyes glowed wildly, more than ever before, like brilliant green flames. I had trouble keeping my eyes off him. I turned to look every few seconds, convincing myself he was really here. Again I had the same feelings of connection with him. The world was right again, melting my troubles away.

He appeared distracted for several moments. I sat quietly until he finally spoke.

“Give me your arm,” he said.

His abruptness caught me off guard. I looked at him oddly and lifted my arm closest to him.

“Sorry, I meant the left,” he said, holding his hand out towards mine from across his chest.

I switched arms, still not sure what his interest was in it.

He moved towards me and held my forearm in his hands. He pulled at my sleeve inching it slightly up my arm. I felt myself grinning again as his fingers brushed my skin in the moonlight. I wanted so badly to keep my cool around him, to do as he cautioned and not get my hopes up, but it was useless. I was his—whether he wanted me or not.

When he unbuckled my watch strap it occurred to me what he was interested in—my birthmark. Maybe I was finally getting the chance to ask what he knew about it.

His eyes were fixed on my wrist. “That’s so strange,” he wondered aloud.

“What is?” I asked.

He didn’t really answer me, just continued to wonder to himself out loud.

His eyes squinted. “How is that possible?”

He examined the mark from several angles, pulling his face close to get a better look. The mark still looked dark. It was hard to tell exactly how dark it was with only the yellow street lights in the distance, but it seemed like it might be completely black again.

He looked concerned. I thought maybe I should be too. Was that not normal? My birthmark was always dark before my accident, so to me the black seemed perfectly normal. It didn’t seem like it was to Rayne though, judging by the perplexed look in his eyes.

“What is it?” I asked again. He didn’t even acknowledge that I’d spoken.

He jumped to his feet, hand extended to help me off the ground.

“Come on,” he said. He pulled me upward and gathered my shopping bags. My chance for more answers vanished behind me.

I continued to cling to his hand after securely on my feet; I didn’t want to ever let go. Despite my sudden improvement in health and mood, I still longed to keep Rayne as near to me as possible.

I hurried next to him. “Where are we going?”

He stopped in the street and gave me a strange look. “To my house,” he said. “We need to talk in private.”

My legs froze. The goofy grin on my face probably gave away my excitement but I didn’t care. He was taking me to his
house
. I would know where he lived.

I glanced eagerly down the street and back again as we walked. I wasn’t sure what his car looked like, but there weren’t any parked close by I didn’t recognize. This suddenly reminded me of my own car. I didn’t know where mine was.

“Where’s my car?” I wondered aloud. We were across the street now and I pulled his hand backwards as I searched the dark neighborhood.

“It’s okay. I know where it is.”

His strong grip pulled me to his side again. If I wanted to get away from him—which of course I
didn’t
—it would’ve been impossible to pull myself free from his impressive strength.

“You do?” I asked.

I could’ve sworn he looked embarrassed, sheepish even. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he said, scratching his head. “Your car’s at the shop. I was having them put new tires on when I…” he paused as if thinking through his words, “…when we talked while you were at the mall. I was planning to have it back here before you got home but I had to leave it to come get you.”

I was so overcome by his sentiment I lost control. I leapt forward and smothered him with a hug. “You fixed my tire?” I said in surprise.

Awkward heat filled my cheeks and I let go of his neck. I had to find a way to stop throwing myself at him so blatantly all the time.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, embarrassed.

His gorgeous smile—although probably mocking my idiocy—was his only reply.

I looked at the ground, unable to bear the silence. “So…which car is yours? Should we go now?” He probably wanted to change his mind about taking me
anywhere
.

“What I’m going to say may come as a surprise,” he said with some hesitance. “But you’re probably getting used to that by now, coming from me at least.”

I recognized his hesitant tone, causing me to become both intrigued and wary at the same time.

“You could say that,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. What brick was he going to hit me with this time? Was he going to tell me he didn’t need a car because he could fly? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point.

“Are you feeling up to a little more of the truth tonight?” he asked.

I never knew what to anticipate from him so it was hard to predict my reaction. But I was almost coming to
expect
unbelievable things from him at this point; magical liquid, top secret missions, super high-tech copies of my diary. What else could he possibly reveal to me now that would top that?

“I think I can handle it,” I said, filling my voice with fake confidence.

He came up behind me and twisted my shoulders, spinning my body away from the street.

“
This
is my house…”

I stared through the rods of the familiar, black gate, unable to speak. What was he saying? He was my neighbor? He lived in the house directly across from mine?

“But…” was all I could push through my tight throat.

I peered through the fence, past the dreary yard with thick bushes and trees, at the quaint, white door. He lived
here
? My first instinct was to feel exhilarated at the thought of him so close. Secretly near me all this time.

Then reality sunk in. He lived right across the street from me. I felt strangely betrayed. I remembered all the times I’d wanted to go look for him, longing to find him without a clue where to look. All along he was right in front of me, just steps away, practically within arm’s reach, but he left me wondering in the dark.

A slight gasp escaped my lips. Of course. It made sense. This was how he kept an eye on me so closely. He had to watch his assignment at all times, to ensure he fulfilled his mission.

I examined the tiny camera on the stone pillar by the gate and flashed back to the night before my accident. I came out here. I stood right in this spot and tried to call from the intercom, without even knowing it was him on the other end. It was like his presence had called to me, like I felt him hiding behind the white door.