Indelible (37 page)

The school had started several bonfires in the fire pits and we drifted over toward one. Brent started biting his nails. One of my classmates handed me a skewer and passed me an open bag of marshmallows. We sat on one of the chairs that had been set up and toasted our marshmallows. I loved roasting them, but didn’t like to eat them without chocolate and graham crackers, so I fed mine to Brent. Some of it stuck to the corner of his mouth and I leaned in to kiss it off. My tongue brushed over the marshmallow remnants, and the fire crackled loudly. I licked the area once more to get the rest. Brent closed his eyes and the flames jumped higher, sending all of us jumping back.

Brent caught my hand in his. His eyes met mine and the fire wasn’t the only thing sizzling right then.

“Your fingers are still sticky.” He brought my fingers to his mouth, still holding my gaze and I suddenly had problems breathing. Something flickered in his eyes as he gently kissed the pad of my finger. I was so lost in my Brent-haze that I missed the screams of my peers. Without warning, the brightly flaring fire was doused with an icy splash of water that covered the two of us as well. I blinked as the salt water flooded down my face.

“What was that?” I asked, spitting the briny water out of my mouth.

“A wave just came up and put out the bonfire,” A tall blonde guy I didn’t know answered. “That was crazy.”

Sure enough, the bonfire was drenched, but the fire still smoldered, putting off thick, heavy steam. The wave had to have been huge to travel so far, but now the surf was moving just as it had been before, easing up and down the beach.

I shivered and Brent slipped off his coat, placing it around my shoulders. His white dress shirt now clung to his chest. His dark locks hung in his eyes, dripping down his face. Yikes, but the boy looked good wet. I swallowed hard and a wave broke near us again, its whitewash creeping up until it touched my toes. I snuggled into the wet coat, still warm from Brent’s body heat. I pulled it around me and felt a weird clink against my chest.

“No,” Brent said as I reached my hand in and pulled out a velvet box. If I didn’t know better I would say it was jewelry box.

I glanced up at Brent and his cheeks were red. “What?”

Brent took the box from my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Not here.”

I allowed him to guide me under the pier. A cloud layer had moved in, casting the pier and its colored lights into something out of a fairy tale.

Brent bit his nails as we strolled. “I know last year we were both planning on going to different colleges. You wanted to go Columbia and I was going to go to Yale.” The muscles on his neck seemed to work as he cleared his throat. “You know I’ve been accepted into Yale and Columbia. I haven’t accepted or declined either of them. I’m waiting to see where you end up. Waiting to see if you’d rather me go Columbia with you.”

I didn’t bother to hold back my surprised smile. “You would do that for me?” A small breeze stirred the wet hair around my face. “But you’ve always wanted to go to Yale.”

Brent gave me a surprised look. “Are you insane? Of course I would do that for you.”

“Brent, I can’t have that much control over your future. I—”

The happy expression on his face fell. “Oh. Right. If you don’t want me that close, I get it.”

I grabbed hold of both of his shoulders. “Brent, of course I would want you to be there, but I don’t want my choice to change the course of your life. You have to pick the school that’s best for you.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know. I’m not trying to pressure you. And I know it’s stupid to make such important decisions based on our relationship right now, but I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I feel the same way, but even if we go to different schools, it doesn’t mean we have to break up. If my family has their way, I won’t even be in college next year. I’ll be studying in Brazil.”

“I know, but being away from you this summer was hard. I don’t want to do that again.”

For the first time it hit me how much my life would change next year, and it sucked. A small chasm of grief slithered through me.

“We don’t have to make plans yet, it’s just something to think about.” Brent played with the wrist corsage on my arm. “I love seeing you wearing something I gave you.” He took a deep breath and pulled the jewelry box out of his pocket. He opened it, holding the velvet box closer to me. Inside was a beautiful silver ring set with a full-moon pearl surrounded by little diamond stars, as lovely as the night sky.

“Are you asking me to. . .” I couldn’t get the words out. He wasn’t proposing was he? My eyes opened wide and I found myself gasping for air and leaning against the pier.

He laughed in a gentle, kind way. “No. I’m not proposing. It isn’t an engagement ring,” he said, his cheeks flushing. He lifted the ring from the velvet. “Can I put it on you? Will you wear it?”

I nodded. He lifted my hand and gently slid the ring onto the ring finger of my right hand. I flexed my fingers, admiring how perfect it looked.

“What sort of ring is it then?” I asked.

“A promise ring.”

“What sort of promise?”

“We’re too young to get engaged, but I love you. Even though we may end up at different schools, or on different continents, it won’t change how I feel. The same moon will be bathing both of us in its light.” He took my hand in his and kissed each of my fingers. “And as long as you wear it, I’ll know you still love me too.”

“I love you. I’ll never take it off.”

He brought his lips to mine and his body gently pressed me into the pier. The cold concrete contrasted starkly with his warmth. His lips were soft and I closed my eyes as they trailed down my neck and then back up, until they tickled behind my ear. He kissed his way along my jaw and I felt limp. His mouth gently parted mine and my blood boiled like flowing lava.

Cold water suddenly swirled around our ankles, lapping almost lovingly against my skin.

We broke apart with a gasp and a laugh.

Brent stopped mid-laugh. “You’re really not freaked out?”

“No.” A sense of freedom fluttered in my chest.

“That is amazing.” Brent curled his fingers around my wrist; he felt nice and toasty. He leaned me back against the pier again, the heat rising between our bodies steaming like fog. “I have a theory,” he said, before stealing another kiss.

The humid mist circled around us as his lips met mine. His arms went around me and brought me closer to him. He tasted like salt and I responded like a sodium addict. Another batch of whitewash rushed over our ankles.

Brent gave me a lazy grin. “The weird waves tonight have been because of you. You’re controlling the water. Every time we start kissing the water goes berserk.”

When Kalina had called it my pet element, I thought she meant I didn’t need to be afraid anymore. I hadn’t thought about it mirroring my actions or emotions.

“So we’re all wet because—”

“I’m so irresistible,” Brent finished, dusting off his shoulder. He looked very pleased with himself.

I dropped my head to his wet chest. “How embarrassing.”

Brent chuckled. “I kind of like it. Let’s see how big the waves can get.”

He leaned in for another kiss but I put one finger over his lips. “No thanks. I think the water and I have performed enough for you tonight.” I gestured toward the water. A small section of seawater jumped like a dolphin performing a trick, following the movement of my arm. I stopped and stared at the water.

“Did I really do that?”

Brent squeezed my shoulder. “Try it again.”

I held my hand out and a thin trail of water lifted up until it reached my palm. Whoa. I dropped my hand, willing the water away, and it fell away. I flicked my finger and a wave extended its length and until it touched my toes. It really did respond to me. Not only that. I could feel it around me. I could think of one section of water and move it toward me. We stood there for a few minutes while I made small commands of the water until my teeth started chattering. Brent pulled me into a warm embrace and suggested we go back.

We walked hand-in-hand toward the tent. When we got close enough to the dance to hear the music and feel the heaters’ warmth, he pulled me into his arms and started dancing with me. We both pulled our wet shoes off and let the cold sand squish between our toes.

Even though I was wet, my hairdo was ruined, and my make up was probably completely gone, I was happy. I leaned my head on Brent’s chest and my lips found their way to his neck. Goose bumps rose on his skin where I kissed him. I cuddled in closer to him and the torches lighting the area burst brighter. I formed a theory of my own and decided to test it out. I kissed his neck one more time, his pulse speeding under my lips. Sure enough their flames glowed brighter.

“Did you see that?” I asked

“Yeah. Fire’s been doing that recently. I think Cherie’s right.” He brought his lips to my ear. “You’re water and I’m fire and together we’re pure steam.” His voice was husky and the molten lava feeling was back in my veins. Waves didn’t hit us, but one broke near us with a loud crash.

I felt Brent’s smile against my temple. I closed my eyes and hummed along to the music. Out of the blue, something Kalina had said popped into my head. “Brent, what’s your name mean?”

He gave me a funny look.

“Just answer please.”

“Okay. There are two meanings: one is ‘hill’ and the other is ‘burnt.’ Why?”

Burnt? Maybe it was because I’d been talking with Kalina earlier about her visions and dreams but my mind flashed to the fire dreams I’d been having. She’d asked me about Brent’s name. Was he connected to them? Is that why she wanted me to know what his name meant? Suddenly my dreams about fires and Brent’s new fire ability seemed like a horrible combination. I stopped at that thought. He shouldn’t be having that reaction to fire. Not if it had been caused by one of the souls that had been in his body. Not since he had the cure.

I tilted my head so I could gaze into his eyes. My fingers traced his face, over his chin, his forehead, down the slope of his nose, across his upper lip. There my heart stopped beating for a second and it felt like a black hole had opened inside of me. Under his nose a warm liquid had pooled. I didn’t need to look to know it was blood.

v

Brent missed school on Monday. His parents had heard about the nosebleed and immediately set up an appointment with his doctor. I completely understood their concern. I moped in my room, worrying about Brent until Cherie burst in almost screaming, “Pranks!”

“Random. But okay.”

She closed the door and began pacing, her hands fluttering about as she talked. “Steve was talking about our senior prank and it made me remember something.”

“Can you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

She perched on the edge of her bed for a nanosecond before springing up to her feet and flitting around the room. “We started talking about all the pranks that have been pulled over the years. And that reminded me about an article I had dismissed about the class of 1915’s prank going wrong.”

She rummaged through a folder on her bed and pulled out two old pictures. She handed them to me. Both of them were of the Christopher Pendrell’s statue in front of the Administration building. “The class of 1915 tried to steal the statue, but instead they dropped it down the stairs, breaking it into several pieces. It had to be fixed and it took almost a full year for the restoration to be completed.”

“Fascinating. But we already checked the statue remember?”

She stomped her foot. “We’ve had a major break-through, Yara. Look at the pictures. The statue was supposed to be exactly the same.”

I studied the two statues. They were identical, except one of them was wearing a key necklace. “When was the statue finished?”

“Two months after Sophia died. I’m sure that’s where it’s hidden.”

“But we already ruled that out.”

“That was when I thought Sophia had attached it herself. She didn’t. The statue was sent back to the original artist to be fixed. The real key is now part of the statue. It isn’t glued on or something that simple, it’s inside the metal. We just need to figure out how to detach it.” She pulled out another book. She sat next to me on bed. “I’ve started researching how to melt bronze.”

v

The next afternoon Cherie, Steve, Audrey, Travis and I were standing in front of the Christopher Pendrell statue. Travis’s dad worked as a metal fabricator and welder, and Travis had spent his summers welding for pocket money. Travis knocked on the statue and walked around it.

“Can you do it?” Cherie rapped her knuckles on Christopher’s toes and shadowed Travis’s circle. Then she pulled out her notebook and started taking notes.

“I think so. If it really is an iron key.” Travis ran his hand over the statue. “Are you sure about that?”

“The article about the key said it was made of iron. That’s the only time it even mentions what the keys are made of.”

“Is there a way to tell before we ruin the statue?” I sat down on the steps and titled my head back so I could see Travis.

“With a magnet, right?” Steve asked. I doubted Steve knew the first thing about metal work, but he felt the need to contribute what he could to the project. I’d noticed that anytime one guy was working on some ‘manly’ project, other men gathered around and contributed suggestions and an unending commentary, even if they didn’t understand what the guy was doing at all. It was some form of male project support system.

Travis nodded. “Bronze isn’t magnetic, but a bronze-plated iron key would be. If a magnet sticks to the key on the statue, then it’s really iron.”

“I have some I keep around to hang up posters in the classrooms,” Audrey said, unzipping her bag. She pulled out a pencil box. Inside there were staples, rubber bands, thumb tacks and magnets. “After planning a few school events, my bag is always loaded with basic essentials,” she explained handing a pastel pink magnet to Travis.

He went up on his toes and positioned the magnet over the key. He pulled his hand back and the magnet stayed. “Well that answers that question.”

“And how could you get it off, without damaging the key?” Cherie asked jotting down a few things in her notebook.