Shattering Halos Page 2
“Omigod—is she nuts? I don’t feel guilty for being alive. I betcha Grief Lady doesn’t either. Do you?”
Her deadpan made me smile. “Well, that’s what survivor’s guilt does, I guess. When people around you die and you somehow…don’t.” I choked on the last word.
“Neat, so you die, all innocent and stuff, or you live and bam, you’re guilty?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Not sure why I’m alive right now.”
“The crash wasn’t your fault!”
“I know, but me, surviving, was freak luck.”
“Ha!” Luna snickered. “More like you’re a lucky freak.”
****
On the day they came to remove the halo—the contraption that immobilized my neck—my sister showed up just in time to keep me company.
“Really? You want to stay for this? You’re not going to be happy,” I promised. My stomach stirred on cue.
“Yep, I’m thinking about becoming a nurse instead of a dancer. See, I’ve been here so much I know everything. Probably wouldn’t even have to study.”
“Luna, they’re going to take the vest, the track, everything off. The screws are coming out of my skull. You won’t like it.”
My tummy did a one-eighty, and I reached the bathroom just in time to empty its contents around the toilet.
“Don’t worry, Gaia. We’ll clean that up for you. Now, let’s get rid of this halo,” Rose sing-sang from behind me. How did she get in so quietly? The doors in this place worked too smoothly for my taste. My stomach lurched again: Showtime.
“Eew, eew! That’s so gross!” Luna cried while they worked on my screws. She miraculously recovered in the minute they left, and by the time we entered the bathroom, she was back to her normal, spunky self.
“Okay, Gaia, watch. You’re so going to love this.”
I hadn’t felt the urge to study myself over the last months. Now, with the halo track off, I didn’t object when Luna turned me to face the mirror. Exposing tiny, shaved areas on my head, she showed me where the screws had been.
From the mirror, a skinnier, paler me stared back, but my hair still flowed long and thick the way it always had. A brief rush of excitement flooded me at the one constant of my appearance.
“Wow, they really didn’t mess with my hair, did they, when I came in.”
“Nope, Mom threw a fit. Dad told her it was a crazy thing to worry about, but she didn’t care,” Luna said.
“Damn, she’s so stubborn.” I grinned.
Luna brushed the strands so they covered all bare spots except for the ones by my temples. “All you have to do is wash your hair, because it’s nasty, and then you’ll arrange it like this.”
“Yeah, you’ll be a better hairdresser than nurse, Luna. I didn’t hear a single ‘oh, gross’ just now.”
Three months after the accident, I was finally allowed to leave the hospital. My new companion, a tight neck brace, came with me. Strange, how saying goodbye to the doctors and nurses made me feel empty all over again.
Chapter 3 — School
Gaia
Against all odds, it was wonderful to melt into the everyday routine of school. Teachers and classmates shielded me throughout the schooldays, always diverting my attention from what I’d been through. Friendly comments abounded, and students I’d never spoken with before invited me to sit at their lunch tables. It diminished the highs and lows of settling back in. Grateful, I wondered how I would have survived if they had acted as unofficial grief counselors instead.
Compassion compelled the school board in our little town to shift me up to senior status with the new academic year. Since I had different classes from the former year, I wasn’t reminded of laughing with Megan in British Literature or leaning drowsily on Chris in Trig.
In my Computer Apps class, I met Marina, a lively girl of Italian descent who’d moved to Spring Hills while I was hospitalized. Marina danced instead of walked and giggled while she talked. We were both starting fresh—albeit in different ways—and she suited my return to the world well.
Marina was full of questions, but thankfully her interest in the accident seemed minimal. When it came to my neck brace, though, she had a healthy dose of curiosity.
“Hey, so do you have to wear that thing all the time? You’d look better without it.”
“Gee, I hope I do. It’s not a fashion statement, Marina. And yes, I wear the neck brace all the time. Even at night.”
“Ah, I figured.”
“Smart girl.”
“So for the rest of your life, then?”
“No! Thank God, no…” I snorted.
“Yay for you—do they have it in other colors? Teal would suit you really well. Oh—oh, I know!”
“What?” I stifled a groan.
“I could find you a Disney princess edition. Belle! Which Disney princess is your favorite?”
“Uh, I don’t know. None of them?”
She moved on seamlessly. “Can I try it on?”
“What? No! Not in a million years!”
Having Marina around lifted my spirits. She always tried to make me laugh. We bonded over starting fresh, our aversion to the school pasta, and soon our talks included my art, Marina’s religion, and our plans for the future.
During one of these lunches, Marina was chattering away as we entered the cafeteria.
“Did you notice how the lunch lady sloshed the lasagna onto the plate with a freaking ladle the other day? So disgusting,” Marina said.
“Yeah, there’s got to be tons of leftovers on pasta days.”
We’d been let out before the bell rang, and the ceramic floor by the buffet flashed slick with moisture. A waft of detergent reached me, raising a mental picture of somebody losing a glob of the dreaded lasagna on the floor. I imagined the smear splattered over the light ceramic tiles. Blood-colored. Blended with pasta in the sickening color of fractured bones.
Megan! Her arm when it twisted against the window before the car exploded.
My lungs couldn’t use all the oxygen I inhaled. Unsteady, I needed something to hold on to.
Eyes thawed my back as I walked to the counter. The feeling tingled up my spine, bringing me to a halt. I turned slowly—and went still.
Behind us, he scanned the wet floor with a frown. Too fast for me to panic, luminous irises bored into mine. I waited for the pain to roar in and destroy me. When nothing happened, my heart tried to gallop away in hopes that my legs would take the hint.
After months, he suddenly appeared on top of a lunch table in my school. In faded jeans and barefoot, in the same flowing, white shirt, he just sat there…beaming!
His skin shimmered as he tilted his head; even in the bright lunchroom, he looked backlit. I’m dying, I thought and could have sworn his angelical features tensed.
Why would I see him now when my subconscious hadn’t conjured him up in months? Either I was going crazy, or he didn’t have an imaginary bone in his body. Sure, he was eerily gorgeous and surreally out of place, but still…
“Hey, what are you staring at, Gaia?” Marina squinted at me, bemused.
“You see him, right? On top of the table?”
“Who?”
The bewildered lilt in her voice made me frown. “Please. Look closer.”
“Uh-huh. You’re so messing with me right now.”
I shot her a side-glance. To me, nothing could be more obvious than him erupting into another glorious smile in front us. I grabbed Marina’s arm and forced her to narrow the distance with me, but by the time I stretched out a palm in an I-told-you-so gesture, he’d disappeared. Either he was playing cat and mouse with me, or I had lost my marbles.
Studying me, Marina’s brow furrowed. Her mouth lifted on one side as her eyes narrowed into slits. “Meh. I got nothing. What’s up, Gaia?”
Disappointment thickened my throat. I turned away from her as my lower lip launched into a tremble. Damn, I was still so unstable!
Please, don’t notice.
S
he instantly caught my change of mood.
“Oh, sweetie, did you think you saw Chris? Did he use to wait for you like that when you came out of class?”
Incapable of getting a grip, I fueled her less-than-discreet Italian compassion. Grief wrenched my gut, and she squeezed me tight. Yes, Chris had always waited for me in the cafeteria, and I suddenly missed him more than ever. I missed Megan and Brandon, I missed Ash, and I missed my invention. My imaginary friend. The stranger.
No. I did not just think that!
“I’m so sorry!” Fussing, she pressed me into a seat. The tears forced their way down my cheeks as the cafeteria filled with students. Survival instinct kicked into gear at the uneasy looks they sent me. I shot up, ready to get away from the spotlight.
“I’ll be right back…”
“Gaia, where are you going? I’ll come with you.”
I shook my finger at her.
“No, no, don’t bother. I’m fine.”
Then, I fled. Not prone to tantrums or crying, I wondered how the drama queens did it; how do you calm down when your emotions morph into chaotic roadmaps full of dead-end streets?
People live with grief.
With a tempest howling inside me, it took all my strength not to race down the hallways. I wanted to get away from the stares and be alone.
Gaia, he doesn’t exist.
Maybe I could find him. In the cafeteria, I’d felt lighter after he appeared. I moved through the corridors, faintly noticing the lunch bell as I curved into the main hallway. Laughter and chattering filled the halls, and the students streamed into the space around me. I wanted—no, needed—to be alone. I fixated on the janitor’s closet.
I tried the doorknob. It relented, and I stumbled into a tiny room bristling with buckets and brooms, cleaning supplies and shelves of toilet paper. Despite the lack of space, I managed to shut the door behind me. The closet eclipsed in blackness.
A resigned sigh welcomed me, and the idea of someone else in there hit me as a transgression of physical laws. Wide-eyed, I swept the darkness.
Strands of hair that weren’t mine tickled my cheek. I managed a twist in the cramped space, and my nose brushed against a lock.
Amber and verbena, wildflowers and hay. I let the velvety scent envelop me. With my mouth open, I breathed in the heady aroma like a cat. Now I’d seen him. I’d felt, and I’d smelled him. All these senses couldn’t be wrong at once, right?
Who is he?
A warm breath grazed my cheek, chasing goose bumps down my neck. When I opened my eyes, the closet basked in a dim, golden sheen.
“My name is Gabriel,” he said, and the sound of his voice condensed me down to pure instinct. My hands flew to his face and brushed over his chin, cheekbones, into his hair.
Oh God, he sat with me at the accident until they took me away!
Gratitude flooded me, boosting my impulses.
Confused, I felt my abdomen clench with something else too: need? My mind erased all reason, and suddenly—
Suddenly, I found myself kissing him!
Full, smooth lips. So real, so much more than I could have imagined. I could tell he was shocked, but at the moment I didn’t care. With his mouth warm against mine, I let the tip of my tongue out to taste him, and my heart beat so fast it shivered.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I gasped out against his lips. Gabriel didn’t reply.
I took one breath. Another. Then I was alone in the closet with my racing heart.
Curious glances followed me as I stumbled out. For once, the attention didn’t bother me. I’d assaulted him in there, but strangely I wasn’t ashamed of my behavior. I felt…great!
As I upgraded his status from mirage to somebody tangible, my disappointment over his disappearance evaporated. I couldn’t wrap my head around the way he came and went, a concern I suppressed in a dim corner of my mind. For the first time in ages, I was giddy. I mouthed his name.
Gabriel.
He was real! My imagination ran amok with the possibilities. On my way home from school, I evoked the addictive sensation of kissing him. I thought about how locking eyes with him hadn’t hurt. It should have worried me how all I could think about was him.
Because of its sudden interest in butterflies, my generally routine-bound stomach couldn’t pull me through dinner. The pork chops were particularly dry that night, and Luna’s incessant chattering tested my patience. I was dying for the meal to be over so I could lock myself in my room and execute my plan.
“Gaia, how’s your Computer Arts class? Do you get to work on your portfolio for college?” Mom’s question barely reached me.
“Um, no Mom, it’s Computer Apps, not Arts. As in Excel and Word.”
“Excel.” Dad hummed approvingly before helping himself to his third disorganized heap of mashed potatoes and gravy. Of course. The man once gave me an advanced calculator for my birthday.
“Really? Are you sure it’s not Computer Arts?”
My eyes automatically rolled skyward. I managed to hide it until Luna started giggling.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s not; I’d have noticed, I think.”
“Are you being smart with me?”
“Mom, I’m just tired.”
“They’ll teach you PowerPoint though, right?”
“Maybe.”
She huffed, and I knew she wanted more. To her, art was more important than math and science.
“I know I haven’t been working on my portfolio much lately, but don’t worry, Mom. I’m going to Shades Run College of Art next year no matter what. It’s what I want.”
I stowed my plate in the dishwasher, praying they would excuse me without a fight.
“Sorry, guys, I’ve got too much homework. Thanks for dinner.”
With my heart pounding, I glided up the stairs. Excitement made my hands shake as I shut the door to my room and locked it behind me. Too worked up to think straight, I indulged in a little hyperventilation before moving on with my experiment.
Clearly, showing up at random was one of Gabriel’s specialties, but what would happen if I called out for him?
My eyes darted around and landed on the second story, half-open window. The Houdini skills he’d shown at school and in the hospital had me convinced that he’d be fine with the option—heck, he’d probably used windows more than once. My chest heaved with the adrenaline rush.
Okay, don’t be ridiculous. Relax.
When I first called his name, I held my breath to capture a reply.
“Gabriel? Are you around?”
As the minutes and the hours ticked by, the music from my stereo increased, cloaking the decibel level of my voice. I even stuck my head out the window. But my exertions only confirmed that Gabriel wasn’t exactly loitering around my house.
The loss set in when I finally conceded that the hottest guy alive wasn’t about to climb through a girl’s window. I tucked myself into bed with my head buried deep under the covers. My breathing quickened, exhausting the supply of oxygen, but to me it was an appropriate punishment for my stupidity. After all, nobody runs around freaking summoning people.
Chapter 4 — Control
Gaia
The next months passed in a stream of classes, physical therapy, and homework. At school, Marina and I hung out during most breaks. Our only common class was Computer Apps, but we soon ended up studying together in the afternoons as well.
Lunchtime turned into quite the social event once Marina’s cousin, Lucio, and his minions began to join us. His posse consisted of Kyle and Cody, a pair of identical twins who looked, dressed, and acted so alike I wondered if even their mother could tell them apart.
The terrible threesome was built the same and always seemed to enter the cafeteria in a subtle V-formation with the dark-haired, brown-eyed Lucio in the middle.
“Guess what?” Cody said, a chunk of his wheat-colored mop sliding into his eyes.
“I give up.”
“Me too.”
He ignored us and looked straight at Marina. “I’m going to the Winter Formal. Not only that, but I will be dancing my ass off. What do you think?”
Kyle didn’t acknowledge his brother’s comment. His olive-green stare, the clone of Cody’s, also landed on Marina. “Dude, I hope I’ve got enough money to rent a suit. Jeans aren’t an option, right?”
“Nope, hence the whole formal part,” Marina said.
Lucio jumped in. “Well, let’s all go to Mickey’s before they run out of the cool ones. The entire school’s probably renting, so we should get them ASAP.”
On the way out of the cafeteria, Lucio held me back. “Gaia, do you want to go with me?”
“To the dance, you mean?”
“Uh, yeah.”
I wanted to go. Lucio hadn’t shown any interest in me beyond the friend zone, so the arrangement should be fine. “Sure, sounds good. Just so you’re aware, though…”
“What?”
“I’ll suck on the dance floor. Big time.”
“Bah, you can’t be worse than me.”
“No, I mean, I get to take the neck brace off the day before Winter Formal. Since it’s my security blanket, I’ll be pretty damn careful out there.”
“Wow. You can keep it on if you want to, right?”
I sent him a withering look. “Lucio. I get to take my neck brace off. Obviously, I’m not going to wear it; I’ll be swapping it out for my pearls.”
The twins both asked Marina out, and my poor, popular friend had no idea how to handle the situation.
“Gaia, they’re both so cute! Who do you think is cutest?”
“Well, I think they look pretty similar…”
The understatement of the century.
“Kyle or Cody?” she insisted.
“Kyle is definitely the cutest,” I threw out to shut her up.
“Really? So Cody’s not that cute to you? There’s something about him.”
Unfortunately, eye-rolling—a compensation for my stiff neck—had become a signature move during my recovery. The habit was hard to shake.
“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you say ‘yes’ to both of them?”