Reckoning (17 page)

Rick raises his eyebrows, pretending to be shocked. “And you
weren’t
? I’m so hurt.”

“No!” I protest. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just…”

“No, no,” Rick says, holding up his hand and turning his head away. “Say no more. The truth is out, and the damage is done.”

“Shut up,” I say with a laugh.

“Hey, I’m just calling it the way I see it.”

Shaking my head, I click open the text message.

Having fun??

I chuckle silently, noticing the time with a shock: 10:27. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it’s almost 10:30.”

“Seriously?” He glances at his watch. “Wow. I feel like we just got here.”

“I know. But we better go. I have to be home by eleven.” I smile apologetically.

“No problem. We’ll head back.” He stands and extends his hand.

Charmed by the gesture, I place my hand in his, thrilling at the touch of his skin. His fingers are warm, the skin alternately soft and callused. He squeezes my hand, then releases it, shoving his hands in his pockets. We walk slowly out of the park and I reach for my phone to let Rachel know I’m ready to go. Even though I wish the night didn’t have to end, I’m not crazy enough to try and break curfew. Even though I’m really tempted. Then it hits me.

“Damn! I left my phone on the bench!”

“I’ll get it…” Rick starts to say, but I wave him aside.

“That’s OK. I’ll grab it.” Turning, I dash back to the bench, and just as I reach for it, it buzzes. I smile, thinking I’m really going to have to give Rachel a hard time for these interruptions. The thought crosses my mind that I should totally blow her mind and tell her we made out. I can just imagine her expression. I click on the message, and stare.

It is just one word, but it makes my heart climb into my throat.

KATRIONA

A gentle breeze moves through the trees and gooseflesh creeps up my arms. I look around cautiously, my ears straining for even the slightest sound. Nothing. No dreaded flashes of a ghostly pink dress. No brain-numbing whispering. Just an empty expanse of green, dotted with trees, the stark silhouettes of houses rising behind.

My phone buzzes again, the vibration rippling through the nerve endings in my hand like a low-voltage jolt of electricity. I feel a sudden desire to fling it as far away from me as I can.

Reluctantly, I look down and click on the message.

RUN

Turning around, I see Rick, smiling back at me, waiting patiently. A scream of anguish and frustration begins to build deep inside of me and I hear a noise to my right, like the whooshing of wings. Jerking my head to the side, my eyes widen in shock, and I duck, narrowly missing a massive black bird as it sweeps past me, angling upward. I think I hear Rick say something, but his words are drowned out by the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. I glance up, looking for the bird and see a large, dark shape sweeping past the top of the trees. I have no idea how any of it is connected – the girl, the texts, the bird – but instinctively I know they are. And it isn’t good.

I look at Rick again, the wonder and magic of this evening still singing through my veins, and my shock turns to anger. Hot, fiery, rebellious anger. This will not happen. Not tonight.

Clenching my jaw, I glare up at the sky.
LEAVE ME ALONE
, I scream in my head. Whatever issues this dead girl has, it has
nothing
to do with me.

Rick begins walking toward me. “Everything OK, Kat?”

I swallow, gathering my emotions back into a tight bundle. “Fine.” I force a smile onto my face, jogging back to him. “Just Rachel sending me another message.”

I step into the pool of light beneath the streetlamp, anxious to leave the darkness behind. Suddenly, the light flickers, an odd sizzling sound emanating from the globes. I stop and stare, watching as several sparks shoot out the sides. The bird, the largest crow I have ever seen, swoops down from the trees, one shining, jet black eye looking directly at me. Sound disappears and time seems to fold in on itself, slowing to half-speed. The same weightless feeling I’d experienced at school creeps over me, and I tense, fighting off the panic.

I stare at the bird, watching it descend lower and lower. It’s wings beat once, moving slowly down and back up again. Sparks continue to jet from the streetlamp, each brightly pointed flash of light spewing out in a torpid, glowing trail, before dropping slowly and silently to the ground. The bird is nearly on top of me. It sweeps past, close enough that I can feel the rush of air beneath its wings, gently lifting my hair. Then it arcs upward, higher and higher, before turning and diving back toward me again, it’s beak open in a silent cry.

I stand and stare, frozen in place, numb with shock and disbelief. My phone vibrates dully in my palm, and I slowly lower my head. As though acting strictly through muscle memory, my thumb pushes the message button.

NOW

I look back up at the bird. Then at the streetlamp. And suddenly, I understand. The obscure text messages melding into clear and precise meaning. But my legs won’t move.

I gasp, inhaling sharply as I struggle to break free of the torpor that has possessed me, and the world abruptly charges back into normal motion, sound and movement taking on a vivid clarity. The bird rushes toward me, it’s head cocked at an odd angle. The sparking and sizzling of the streetlamp grows louder, the globes glowing and flashing like some kind of deranged sparkler on the fourth of July. I take one slow step backward just as the globes explode with a loud bang, hundreds of tiny pieces of glass slicing through the air. I yelp and duck, lunging to the side.

“Holy shit!” Rick runs toward me. “What the hell? Are you OK, Kat?” He puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me away from the streetlamp.

Shaking, I stand up straight. The streetlamp sparks feebly, making an odd humming noise. I cast a nervous glance at the sky. The bird is gone. “Yeah, I’m…I’m fine.” The words sound croaked and strangled.

“I’ve never seen anything like that!” He steps back, staring up at the light. “That was just friggin’ wild!”

I watch him, filled with anxiety that he will be totally freaked out, chalking this up as the worst date ever with some weird girl who attracts ridiculously large birds and causes random streetlight explosions. The evening will become a favorite story that he will still be telling years from now. I can’t let that happen. Thinking rapidly, I try to come up with ways to make light of the whole thing. “It must have been a weird power surge or something.” I laugh shakily, willing him to believe it.

He shakes his head and looks at me, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I always knew there was something about you. Man, you’re one exciting chick.”

Something about me
…
if you only knew
, I think. Glancing warily behind me, I gently brush a stray shard of glass from my shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Keep it together, Kat. Just keep it together.

My mind reeling, I try to focus on Rick’s story about seeing the protective glass shattering at a hockey game once, while I send Rachel a text with the simple message, READY. My emotions are a jumbled mess of anger, shock and confusion, mixed with a newfound feeling of excitement and anticipation. I hold tight to that feeling of happiness, wishing more than anything that I could recapture the magic of earlier.

Too quickly, we return to the house, pausing outside the back gate. The party still seems to be in full swing, although the music has been turned down, faint strains of it now issuing from open doors and windows.

Rick reaches for my hand. “Thanks again for coming tonight, Kat. I had a great time. Exploding lights and all.” He grins, his crooked tooth adding to his infectious grin.

“Me, too,” I say. And I mean it. More than he can possibly know. Even though it lasted for only a couple hours, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that normal again. The thought of losing that, of never experiencing it again, makes me unbelievably sad.

“In case you haven’t figured it out yet,” he says quietly, a slightly timid note creeping into his voice, “back in middle school I had the biggest crush on you.” He looks at me uncertainly, as if unsure how I will react.

I drop my head, staring at our intertwined hands, my heart soaring. “I just feel like an idiot, because I never knew.
And
that I totally didn’t recognize you.
Alex
.”

He laughs. “Hey, I’m
glad
you didn’t recognize me. God, I looked like such a total geek.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. Actually, now that I think about it, you were kind of cute. Even with the hair…and the pants…and those fingerless gloves you used to wear…and those awful oversized tshirts…and weren’t your ears, like, really big?”

“OK! Stop! And no, my ears
weren’t
big. Maybe my feet, but not my ears.”

We both laugh, leaning against the fence.

He takes a deep breath, his tone becoming serious. “I’d like to see you again, Kat. If that’s OK.”

I exhale silently in relief, realizing with surprise that I’ve been holding my breath. It was OK. He hadn’t been completely freaked out by everything that had happened.

He’ll eventually figure it out, Kat
.
You can’t hide something like that forever.
I push the thought aside, focusing on him.

“This might sound crazy,” he says, “but I’ve never been able to talk with anybody like that before.”

“Me, either,” I murmur.

“So…I’ll call you?”

“I’d like that. A lot.”

“Cool.” He smiles, his eyes dark and incredibly brown. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

I nod and reach into my bag. I find the pen, but no paper.

“Here,” he says, extending his arm. “Just write your number on my hand.”

I uncap the pen, and write my number slowly across his palm, wishing I could write an entire book. I like touching him.

When I finish, he turns his palm over and looks at it for a moment. “Give me your phone.”

“What?” Who is he going to call?

“Just give me your phone,” he says, smiling and gesturing with his fingers.

I hand it to him, not sure what he intends to do. He presses several buttons and hands it back to me. “There. Now my numbers programmed into your phone. So you can’t lose it.”

I grin and bite my lower lip.

Rather than navigating our way back through the house, and the crowds of people, he takes my hand and walks me around the block to the front yard. I can see the headlights of Rachel’s car as it turns onto Rick’s street, the streetlamps reflecting brightly off the yellow hood.

“Well, my ride’s here,” I say, stating the obvious, but not wanting the night to end.

“I’ll call you,” he says. “Soon.”

I look back at him, caught in the depths of his dark eyes. I feel an odd tremor run through my legs and stifle a laugh. My knees had just quivered. “OK. Don’t wash that hand.”

“Already committed to memory.”

I open the door of Rachel’s car, and turn back to wave. “See ya. Thanks again.”

Rick waves back, before turning to the house and heading inside. I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a
Whoop
before he disappears through the doorway.

“Well?” Rachel asks. “Since you lasted more than an hour, I’m guessing it went OK.” She is looking at me eagerly, anxious for details.

I turn to her, and putting everything else from my mind, simply allow a huge smile to spread across my face.

“I knew it!” She raises her hand for a high-five, before driving off with a laugh.

_________

Vowing to call me the moment she gets home so I can continue supplying her with the details of the evening, Rachel drops me off in front of my house. Although I want to tell her, there is also a large part of me that wants to keep it to myself. A small, magical memory that I can take out and examine and cherish, unknown and untouched by anyone else. On the other hand, I’m bursting to tell, wanting her opinion on everything.

I walk slowly toward my front door, unconsciously compartmentalizing the events of the night – the brief visit with Lovell; Rick; the episode in the park. I can’t deal with them all lumped together.

“Hey, Kat.” A disembodied voice floats out from the darkness.

I gasp and stared wide-eyed across the lawn. Lovell leans forward, emerging from the dark hole that is his porch, the streetlight casting just enough light to bring his head and shoulders into focus.

“Lovell?” I ask, wondering what he is doing.

He stands and walks to the side of the porch, leaning against the railing. Peering closer, I see that he’s been sitting on an old plastic lawn chair, its white surface glowing dully in the faint light.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, arms folded across his chest.

“Yeah. I did,” I answer slowly. “Kind of late to be sitting out on the front porch, isn’t it?” What is he doing? Watching for me?

He shrugs. “Not really. It feels nice out here. It was really stuffy inside.”

“Oh.” I relent slightly, remembering how quickly our house used to heat up on a warm day before we’d had central air-conditioning installed.

“It’s a beautiful night,” he adds. “I can’t believe how many stars you can see here.” He gazes upward, his eyes moving slowly back and forth.

“I hadn’t really noticed,” I say, taking a step towards him.

He glances down at me. “You should. It’s amazing.”

I look up. And he’s right. Thousands of stars, tiny pinpoints of light across an endless black canvas, glow and twinkle erratically.

“Makes you wonder what else is out there, doesn’t it?” he continues. “And did you see the moon? Incredible.”

I shift my gaze further to the left, my eyes locking on the brightly glowing sphere above my house. Round and full, it looks like a giant melon, suspended on invisible wires. A full moon. On my birthday. I wonder if that has any meaning.

“A full moon on your birthday,” Lovell says, eerily voicing my thoughts. “That’s pretty cool.”

I stare at the moon, reluctant to look at him. Why does he always seem to know what I am thinking? Is he like a mind reader or something? I don’t know, but I’m starting to find it a little irritating.