“It’s okay, I’m still alive.” I hated it.
“Is it some relative of yours?” he pointed at the grave by the angel’s feet.
“I have no idea whose grave that is,” I admitted, shaking my head. Adam walked over to the angel and bent down to read the inscription on the gravestone. The name was impossible to read.
“1873,” he said. I gave him a questioning look.
“The year of birth—1873.”
That meant the angel had been standing there for more than a hundred years.
“I can’t decipher any more than that,” he apologized.
As he straightened up, the hood slid down the back of his head, exposing his hair. It was dark and messy like he hadn’t combed it. The strands were sticking out in every direction. His hand reached up to smooth it, but it didn’t help a lot. I liked the way it looked—like a shaggy animal.
“Do you come here very often?” he asked.
“Occasionally,” I lied. I didn’t think he would be excited by the fact that I had spent a quarter of my life in Aurora in this graveyard.
“Do you?” I asked in return.
“Occasionally,” he repeated my answer and smiled. His cheeks blushed a little. Was he embarrassed? I looked over my shoulder at the gravestone of his grandmother’s grave. His eyes followed my gaze.
“She died a year ago,” he continued, “Life has been harder since then. She was a great person.”
“I’m sorry.” A big lump stuck in my throat. I thought of my parents. Maybe this stranger would understand better than anybody why I needed to come here so often, why I missed my parents so much.
The wind was getting stronger, like it wanted to blow me away from this place.
“I think I should go home.”
He looked up as I spoke, a questioning expression on his face.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he apologized.
“No, you didn’t.” I shook my head. “My sister is waiting for me.”
I started walking towards the gate. He took a few quick strides and fell into step beside me. I felt his gaze on me and eyed him from the side for a second, not knowing what to expect. Sophie would be home soon and she didn’t know where I was.
Adam opened the gate for me. I hurried past him.
“I’m glad I decided to come here today,” he said. “I wouldn’t have met you if I hadn’t.”
I gave him a smile and quietly agreed.
“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asked.
I shook my head. I would have liked nothing better than getting a little more time with him, but I didn’t know anything about him and I was always careful about strangers.
“Bye Adam.” I looked at him, trying to figure out if he was trustworthy, but I didn’t succeed. He had pulled up his hood, and his features lay in shadow once more.
He took a step towards me, his arms slightly lifted, as if he wanted to hug me, but then stopped in his tracks, letting his hands drop back to his sides right away.
“Goodbye, Claire.” He turned and walked away.
I hurried off, hoping Sophie wasn’t home yet.
* * *
It was nearly six o’clock when I unlocked the front door. Nigel was waiting on the porch mewing loudly. Sophie was sitting in the kitchen, leaning over a bowl of soup.
“Where have you been?” She didn’t sound like the twenty-three year old girl she was. She sounded like an old woman.
“Graveyard,” I mumbled. I knew she wouldn’t be pleased with me. She had told me a million times that I had to move on, to live my life, that I couldn’t mourn for our parents forever.
I had moved on, I lived my life, but I still missed them. So I wouldn’t stop visiting the only place where I felt like they were near me.
And since this afternoon the graveyard had another meaning for me too: Adam.
Sophie got up and handed me a bowl of soup and a spoon.
“What did you have for lunch?” she asked. I couldn’t ignore her suspicious tone.
“I had lunch, if that’s what you want to know,” I snapped at her. She shot me a suspicious look.
“I eat! Can’t you just let it be?” I dug my spoon into the food and ate in order to demonstrate the meaning of my sentence. There had been times when I hadn’t eaten. It had been the worst months in my life, the months after the accident. I had felt all the guilt on my shoulders and hadn’t been able to bear it. All I had wanted was to fade to nothing. I had become so thin that the doctors had wanted to force me to eat. They had wanted me to visit a therapist, but I had bristled. I had known exactly what I was doing and I hadn’t had the intention of letting anyone interfere. Sophie hadn’t known what to do with me anymore. She had started confronting me all the time-had I eaten, what had I eaten.
There had been a time when I wanted to disappear into nothingness, but I had started eating again. In those first few months after my parents’ death I had blamed no one but myself for what had happened to them, to my sister and me. It was then that Sophie had decided to move to the town of Aurora. The break from my old life in combination with the new school and new people who hadn’t pitied me for my fate. I wouldn’t tell them at first why I’d moved—helped me see myself as a normal teenager. Then there had been a specific doctor in Aurora who was a friend of Mister Baker’s, the librarian at the public library. He had gotten me the job there and I had soon found out why he had thought this job would fit me. It had been the calming company of the books on the shelves and then Mister Baker himself, an old and wise man who spent afternoons talking to me at the library, telling me stories about his life and his daughter—whom he had lost in a car accident where he had been the driver.
After a few more weeks I hadn’t wanted to die any more, and I had seen death knocking on my door. I relished life too much.
I didn’t try to starve myself out of guilt anymore. Whatever I did didn’t change that they were dead. As long as I didn’t want to die too, I wouldn’t stop eating again. Sophie wouldn’t believe me. She grew suspicious whenever I skipped a meal, but I had become used to her observant glares—I simply didn’t care any longer.
I ate up all of the soup and decided to have a ham sandwich. I was hungry from the day, and no former distaste for nourishment could keep me away from food now. I loved good food.
I let one piece of ham fall on the floor for Nigel, who was waiting with eager yellow eyes, then, sandwich in one hand, backpack in the other I made my way up the stairs and to my room. There I sat down on my bed and went over today’s events in my head.
I had met a boy. He had appeared next to the angel in the graveyard. Not the most romantic place, but somehow it had been perfect. He was beautiful, I had to admit. I hadn’t seen a boy like him in my entire life. I didn’t know anything about him yet, but I knew that I wanted to know everything. I had missed the chance of asking him where I could find him again. I had more or less run from him because we had been alone in a graveyard. I hoped he wouldn’t think I was crazy or anything, but it was possible that he did. Whatever he thought, or I thought, I wouldn’t see him again. I had no idea where to find Adam Gallager.
I headed for the bathroom, brushed my teeth and got myself ready for the night. My nightie lay crumpled up under my pillow. I pulled it out and slid out of my clothes in front of the mirror. I was still slender—some people would say thin, but slender was the right word. I liked it. I didn’t want to put on too much weight, but I didn’t want to lose weight either. I wanted to stay the way I was.
I slid my nightie over my head and climbed into bed. I needed some sleep, but I wasn’t able to relax enough to doze off. Adam’s face was dancing before my inner eye. Why hadn’t I asked him where I could meet him again? Would he have liked to see me again? Would I have made a fool of myself by asking? My thoughts circled around the mysterious guy from the graveyard. His smile, his green eyes. I was trapped within my own imagination.
It went on for hours. All I could think about was that it was
my fault I hadn’t asked him. I rolled to my back and gazed at the alarm clock. It said two in the morning. Unable to find some peace of mind otherwise I finally gave in and promised myself that I would go back to the graveyard if I couldn’t forget Adam. I gave myself two days and two nights, and if by Thursday he still filled my head I would go back to where I had met him first and try my luck. This decision calmed me. I was able to relax a little. It didn’t take much longer until I finally fell asleep.
* * *
The alarm woke me urgently from my dreams. It was Thursday morning. I got up, headed for the bathroom, brushed my teeth and got dressed quickly. Then I ran down the stairs. I was late. Usually I never was late, but I had been on Monday and Tuesday, and I was again today. I didn’t want it to become a habit.
Downstairs, I rushed to the kitchen and grabbed an apple and a chocolate bar. Sophie was just finishing her breakfast.
“Good morning sunshine,” she greeted me.
“Morning! Can we hurry up, please. I don’t want to be late again,” I answered, chewing a mouthful of apple.
It took only a minute until the cat was out of the house. I locked the door and only a few moments later Sophie and I were sitting in the car on the way to Aurora High. Sophie dropped me off outside the main entrance of the school building like she usually did, and I hurried off.
The morning stretched like every morning had this week, but this was fine with me, I needed the time to talk to Amber and Lydia. I had to finally tell them about the graveyard guy. Like I had promised myself, I had tried to forget him for the last two days and nights, but I hadn’t been very successful. Every time I had tried to not think about him, the thoughts had become more intense, and when I had forced myself to think about something else, it hadn’t taken too much time until I had found myself seeing his face again. I gave in to the part that needed to see Adam again. My heart instantly started racing as I thought of the trip to the graveyard which lay ahead this afternoon.
Unable to sit still, I used the boring classes to fill Amber and Lydia in about everything.
“Miss Gabriel, Miss Finn, I’m sorry to interrupt your little conversation, but if you don’t mind, I would like to go on with my lecture.” Ms. Weaver was standing in front of our desks, looking down on us with a disapproving expression.
“Sorry, Miss Weaver!” Amber put on her innocent face. Nobody could not forgive her if she did that. I usually thought of it as unfair, but I was grateful now. I had been a bad student at history for the last few years, and I didn’t need Ms. Weaver’s disfavor.
The rest of the story would have to wait until lunch break. Amber, Lydia and I went to the cafeteria, where we sat down at a small table. I didn’t want any further company today, considering the things I had to tell them. It was nothing special on the one hand, but on the other hand I would have been embarrassed if somebody else had listened. I didn’t want anybody to know about my habit of visiting the old graveyard; they would have thought I was a freak—I guessed some of them did anyway, but I didn’t want to strengthen this picture of me.
Amber and Lydia knew I was going there occasionally, so they wouldn’t ask questions, at least not about that part of the story.
“And you didn’t let him walk you home? Oh, Claire!” Amber complained. Lydia was listening without interrupting me. I knew her unanswered questions would be asked on our way home.
“You meet Mister Perfect and let him go without asking him for at least a telephone number?” It sounded like an accusation.
“I was being careful. Who knows—he could be a chain saw murderer.” I justified my overcautious stupidity from that day not only for Amber, but for me in the first place.
“So, you will never see him again.” Amber made it sound like a finality. I both nodded and shrugged, displeased with myself, and ate my lunch.
I had been right about Lydia. We were on the way from school when she started asking questions. She wanted to know what he had said and what he had looked like, and why I had been afraid. She agreed with me on the part about the chain saw murderer—you never knew.
“You will see him again if it’s meant to be,” she encouraged me. “Maybe he’s already waiting in the graveyard. Though I have to admit that a date in the graveyard would be a bit eerie.”
That day I had to leave our common route earlier. It was Thursday, the day I worked in the public library.
“Bye, Lyd,” I waved at her, turning around the corner and heading for work.
I walked down the narrow street towards the library. It was a sunny day, but the street was nearly empty. It was too early in the afternoon, most people were still at work or at school. It would be a quiet afternoon at the library.
When I came in, the main part of the library was empty, except for the boy who worked there every Thursday until two o’clock in the afternoon.
“Hey James,” I greeted him. He looked up from a pile of books he had been bending over.
“Hey Claire, you are early today.” He didn’t seem displeased with my early arrival.
“I know. Do you need some help with those books? I could put them back on the shelves,” I offered.
“Thanks.” He carried the pile towards me and split it in two, handing me the smaller part. I looked at the library number of the first book on the pile and started putting it back in place. I welcomed the work. It was a good kind of thing that kept my hands busy while my head kept spinning and spinning with the same question: Why hadn’t I asked for details? Chicken that I was, I had preferred to keep my mouth shut and hope for a second coincidence. The odds of seeing Adam ever again weren’t too good right now. The chance was infinitesimally small, and I hated myself for it.
James walked over to say goodbye at two o’clock. I was alone then, and nobody could watch me here, so I sat down behind the counter and rested my head in my hands. I needed a break, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop circling round and round the same topic over and over again. Finally, I went to the nearest shelf and took a book from it. It had an old, green cover, and the pages were slightly yellow on the edges. I didn’t look at the title before opening it, and started reading. It was some sort of old crime story, not very interesting, but it made the time seem to pass a little faster.
The afternoon was quiet. Nobody came to borrow a book, the weather was too beautiful outside. I would have gone to the park myself with Amber or Lydia if I hadn’t had to work here in the dusty old rooms of the library. I kept reading all afternoon, until Mr. Baker came to close the library for the day. As he passed the counter he bent over it, examining my reading.
“I see you are starting to appreciate the older literature I recommended you,” he acknowledged my reading the old book.
I smiled at him and nodded convincingly. I had no idea what exactly I had been reading for the last few hours, but I was glad it hadn’t been in vain, at least Mr. Baker was pleased with me.
“Off you go, girl, I’ll close the library on my own today,” Mr. Baker said. “You can take the book with you if you like.”
My hands glided over the green leather cover, closing the book and sliding it into my bag.
“Thanks, Mister Baker. See you next Thursday,” I rushed to the door.
“Yes, yes, girl—next Thursday,” the cranky old man croaked, already bustling to the back of the library.
I pulled the front door open and stepped out into the light of the setting sun. With a glance at the colorful landscape I started walking.
I headed directly for the graveyard. Honestly, I nearly ran there. I wanted to see him again, the body, the eyes, the palish lips, everything I had seen made me wanting to see more. I put the kibosh on my thoughts, trying to not get carried away. It had to stop. If I didn’t meet Adam that day, I’d just have to put a stop to it all, just forget about the guy.
The wrought iron gate was open when I came there. I walked in slowly and more carefully that day, not wanting to be as noisy as I had been the last time. The sky was strewn with dark clouds by the
time I reached the center of the graveyard. I walked straight towards the willow.
The angel stood there in front of the shadowy tree like he had for over a hundred years. The graveyard was silent except for the soft noises my shoes were making on the lose gravel. It was steadily growing darker, so I couldn’t see the willow too clearly. I continued until I stood under the willow. No human being to be seen, I noticed disappointedly. Not wanting to miss anything, I started walking around the willow to where he had leaned Monday afternoon. Maybe he was standing behind the huge ancient trunk, at his grandmother’s grave. I finished my tour around the tree. Adam wasn’t there. No one was, except the growing darkness and me.
I headed back to the wrought iron gate. I had been a fool. When did we ever get second chances, I asked myself.
I made it home just before Sophie. I saw the lights of her car turn into the driveway and disappear into the garage. When she entered the house I was already lying on my bed, stroking Nigel’s fluffy gray fur absentmindedly, and searching for a way to deal with my situation—knowing that it was my fault I was in it. It wasn’t easy trying to convince myself that I could forget Monday afternoon, but I had to. It took me hours to even want to.
* * *
I was restless when I woke up again. The wind was making the trees outside sing in low creaky sounds. Night air was coming in through the still open window and was slowly cooling the room to a comfortable temperature. The alarm clock on the bedside table said it was 3:47 a.m.
Nigel had curled up in a ball on the quilt at my feet. I nearly threw him off the bed when I forced my stiff bones upright and stumbled to the closet ungracefully. My nightie was lying on the ground where I had left it in the morning. I decided to leave it there and put on my sweat pants and a clean shirt instead. Freshly dressed, I closed the window, huddled under the quilt on my bed and fell into a restless sleep full of dreams about stone sculptures, wings and Adam’s green eyes.
White (The Wings Trilogy Book 1) Page 3