Soul Forgotten (Blue Star Series Book 1)
Page 10
“I’m such an ass and I’m so sorry. I should have let you explain. You’re not alone, and I want to take it all back if you’ll just —holy shit, what happened to you?”
Clara stood in the freezing night air with just jeans and a light long sleeve on, not registering anything I had just said. Her face was sunken, tears staining her cheeks and hair matted in sweat around her face. But that wasn’t the most terrifying thing to see. I glanced down as she lifted her left arm, blue ink staining her sleeve and dripping from her fingers onto the porch. Wait, that wasn’t ink… that was blood.
Her mouth opened, but only empty air came from her throat. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible over the wind.
“Nate, I need help.”
I dragged her inside, fighting all of the questions that spun in my mind. I guided her up the stairs and into my bathroom as she stood in a trance, her eyes shining with tears. She didn’t notice as I peeled her sleeve away from her arm, blood shining against her skin. Blue blood, shaped in a lightning mark up her forearm just like in my dreams.
“Clara, how did this happen?” I asked, scooping water from the sink to help clean the cut. Her skin was cool to the touch, but not as icy as when I had touched her the last day of school.
She took a deep breath and told me everything about the last few months and what she knew, which really wasn’t a lot. She talked about waking up next to the dead man in the clearing, believing she had run away from The Complex and he was chasing after her. I was just as confused as she was about The Complex and The Trials to get powers, especially because Glitch and I were in the same situation of having our powers without those things. And then the Blue Star giving her headaches and the voices screaming at her. That’s why she lost control and had outbursts, which was how tonight’s events had unfolded. She had nowhere to turn when she reopened the scar on her arm; the scar she got from using the Blue Star and losing her memory a few months ago, and the same one I saw every night in my dreams.
Clara’s voice faded out, her gaze still distant and dull as I finished wrapping her arm in a bandage. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of her hand, afraid she might never let me touch her again.
“This is going to sound creepy,” I said, sighing, “but I think I’ve been dreaming of that night you lost your memory. I see that man—“
“Wait, what?” she asked, her fingers tensing in my grip.
“He’s controlling fire,” I continued. “I see this flash of light, and you’re there, but then…”
“You see me dying,” she whispered, finishing my thought as her right hand ran over her stomach. “Nate, I have that same dream. You’re trying to help me.”
I shook my head, my mind spinning again. “How can we be having the same dream?”
Clara frowned. “I don’t know. They didn’t start until after I met you.”
Silence fell as we both tried to wrap our heads around whatever was happening to us. There were too many questions, and I finally understood why it was so hard for her to say anything to me about all of it. I wanted answers just as much as she did, but the only things we had were more questions.
I sighed and reached forward, pulling her right hand away from her stomach. “C, I can’t apologize enough, but I also have no idea what to do now. You mean too much to me and I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be too late; not for this, not like in our dreams, not for any of it.”
She finally made eye contact with me, her blue eyes plagued with sadness. “Do you really want to be with me? After everything I just told you, how can you look at me the same? I don’t know who I am and I’m losing control.”
She tried to tug her hands away but I just held them tighter. “Of course I want to be with you. It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize it, to reach back out to you, but I can’t stand to lose what we had. Now I’m just worried I did too much damage to ever get back to that point. I think I should be the one asking if you want to be with me.”
I started to loosen my grip but this time she was the one who didn’t let go. Clara pulled my arms around her back and leaned into my chest, burying her face in my shirt. My favorite chill ran through my spine as I leaned into her, resting my cheek on her head. I could have stayed there for hours, but she finally pulled away.
“Thank you for listening. I’m sorry for the trouble tonight. I’ll head home now.”
Clara tried to slide by me, fiddling with her bloodstained left sleeve, but I snagged her hand before she got out the door.
“I’ve missed you for a month. Please, don’t go,” I whispered. I’m not sure I could bear the thought of watching her leave again, even if it was just for the night.
She relaxed in my grip. “Okay, but can I borrow a shirt? This one is…”
“Yeah,” I replied with a smile.
I let her change into one of my gray long sleeves as I sat on the bed, watching her walk around and look at the things in my room. “So, the headaches and voices caused your arm to cut open again?”
She nodded. “I kind of screamed and blew up my library. I thought giving in would be easier. I thought I could get rid of the pain, physical and emotional.”
Clara slid her hand over the speaker, leaving a visible streak through the dust. I hadn’t used it since the night we broke up and nothing sounded right without her.
I sighed. “I’m so sorry, C.”
“I am too,” she replied with a shrug. “Maybe we should just call it even and stop apologizing? Move on with a clean slate?”
“I’m not sure I deserve that, but that would be really nice.”
She smiled softly, making her way closer to the bed as she played with some of the things on my bookshelf. I studied her movements, admiring her wearing my shirt. The long sleeve she had on was swallowing her, just like my old sweatshirt had. The sweatshirt he never gave back. Maybe that was her way of holding on, just like it was my way of hoping she would come back to me.
Her eyes widened as she snagged something off the shelf, turning to face me. “Where did you get this?” she asked, shoving the half marble into my right hand.
“A clearing… on the first day of school before I met you…” Slowly, the pieces started to fit together. That was the same clearing in our dream, where Clara had found herself with no memories, and the first day we started having the same nightmare. “Hold on, is this…?”
“The Blue Star,” she replied, her eyes a fiery blue. She dug into her left pocket and pulled out an identical half marble, the same blue tint as her eyes shining under the black surface. “This is why we have the same dream. It broke that night and I couldn’t find the other half. What if this is why I lost my memory?”
Her words spilled out in an excited mess, and I understood why. This marble could hold the answers to her past, but it also seemed to be responsible for a lot of her issues now. I watched the blue light start to brighten and swirl inside the half marble in my hand, the one she held doing the same. Did she notice the light was the same color as her eyes?
“C,” I said hesitantly, watching her stare between the two halves. “You said the Blue Star is where the voices and headaches came from. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Clara looked up at me, a new hope in her eyes. “I’ve been searching for three months and had no luck. What if this is the only chance I have to figure out my past?”
I sighed, still uncertain, but this was her choice. She was the one who had lost everything, and this time I was going to make sure I helped her, however she needed me.
I nodded as she reached forward and pressed her half of the marble into mine. The blue light underneath the surface started to swirl faster, colliding and brightening as a soft glow surrounded our hands.
In a flash of freezing cold air and energy, Clara and I flew away from each other and slammed against the walls.
22
Clara
Blue light spun around me. It was like crashing waves and gentle ripples at the same time. The en
ergy surged and danced, pulling the air through my body like electricity.
My hand twitched as I looked down to see Nate still holding my left hand with his right. We weren’t in his bedroom anymore, but I couldn’t say where we were except in the Blue Star. That was the power swirling around us that was terrifying and beautiful and cold.
I could feel the energy tugging at my mind, a dull ache that wanted me to reach out into the waves that ran around us. What if that was where my memories were hiding? What if I went inside?
Wait, I’m not sure you should touch it. Something feels wrong.
I frowned. I hadn’t moved a muscle, but Nate’s thought seemed to respond to my thought. I started to open my mouth to speak but no sound escaped.
I raised my eyebrow. Nate, can you hear my thoughts?
Nate spun his head to look at me, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth, realizing that he also couldn’t speak. You didn’t say that out loud? How can I hear your thoughts?
I shrugged. The Blue Star, I guess.
Something pinched my neck as I looked back at the waves in front of us. Part of me wanted to reach out, but that inviting feeling from earlier started to change. Instead of tugging gently, I could feel the cold grip tightening around my neck and digging into my skull. I clenched my jaw as my eyes started to water, fighting against the pain. I couldn’t have an outburst right now, not when Nate was here and the Blue Star could take advantage of me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my right hand into my forehead in an attempt to relieve the pain. The tugging turned to yanking as the energy picked up like wind, trying to force me into the spinning waves around us. All I wanted to do was scream, but I had to resist.
Nate’s arms wrapped around me, desperately trying to pull me into him but the Blue Star picked up yet again. I could feel it forcing us away from each other, pressure building around us and in my head. If this lasted much longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Finally the energy ripped between us and tore us apart, launching us in two different directions. Nate was lucky as he flew over his bed and hit the wall, dropping down to the mattress. I wasn’t as fortunate, skidding over his desk and hitting the wall just under his bedroom window.
Shit. “Ow,” I growled, rubbing the back of my head as I blinked the tears away. The pain had faded into a dull ache but I could still feel the remnants of what it had been. I rolled my neck a few times, letting out the uncomfortable soreness in my muscles.
“Are you okay?” Nate asked, scrambling toward me.
“I think so,” I grumbled. I mean, shit. For getting launched across a room, I was pretty lucky to hit the wall and not smash through the window.
Nate froze, his eyes widening as I frowned and glanced around.
“What?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was staring at. Am I bleeding again? I have all my limbs… is there a pen sticking out of me?
“No, I can hear your thoughts,” he breathed.
My eyes widened. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “You cuss a lot.”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”
Nate stood up carefully, offering his hand to help me up. “So, first the Blue Star connects our dreams, now our thoughts. Where did that thing go?”
I pressed my hand into the floor to stand up but felt a sharp pinch. I turned my palm over to see the Blue Star stuck in a crease in the bandage on my hand. “Found it.”
He reached forward, sliding the now whole marble out of the wrap. Black and blue light swirled underneath the surface before the blackness took over and it settled into stillness. “Hm, it doesn’t feel cold anymore.”
“Shit,” I whispered, grabbing his right hand. I turned his palm over, running my fingers over the new blue splotch that had appeared in his palm. The scar was identical to the one I had on my left, right where we had been holding the Blue Star in the vision. I glanced up, still tracing the scar with my fingers. “Do you feel different?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Well, besides having your voice in my head now.”
I shrugged. “I guess there are worse things.”
“Yeah, it could be Glitch’s thoughts.”
I let out a quick chuckle followed by both of us laughing at full volume. Despite the unknown of what had just happened, it was a relief to smile again. It was a relief to be with Nate again. I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder, thankful for his touch after so long. But after all the headaches I had just gone through and not sleeping for who knows how many days, I wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer. Nate was holding up a lot more of my weight than I wanted.
“You know,” he whispered, shifting me toward the bed, “you’re going to have to start censoring your thoughts if you want to keep me out of your head. I have no idea how to block them like you do.”
He kissed the top of my head before setting me down on the bed. As we leaned back, I felt a lightness that I hadn’t felt before. I still didn’t have my memories, but Nate had been right to keep me away from the waves. That pain was horrible, and a reminder of what I had been resisting all these months. He kept me from falling into the cold, and I was going to need him to help me if the pain continued to get worse. The Blue Star was after something, and it had just pulled Nate into the mess with me.
I sighed as I picked up my phone, remembering the reason I had changed my mind about getting help from Nate. “Thank you for the songs. I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again.”
“I just wanted to try.”
“Music is the only connection I have to my past, and it’s not much, but it keeps me grounded from the Blue Star. It’s the only thing I can rely on… but now I have you. I can’t let it take over, Nate.”
He nodded. “Then I’ll help you. I’ll make sure you won’t fall into the cold.”
I smiled and unwrapped my headphones, handing him the other earbud.
Lover. Truslow.
23
Nate
I sighed and pressed my forehead to hers. “Clara, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
She scrunched her nose and smiled. I missed you too, Nate.
Her voice in my head carried a slight echo, but it was full of happiness. I was going to have to get used to hearing her thoughts now, not that I was mad about that.
“So, I have another song for you,” I replied, picking the phone out of her hand.
Stay. Elliot Root.
I started to get up, prepared to sleep on the couch, but Clara reached up and pulled me back down to the bed. She rolled closer, resting her head on my chest.
“You can’t play this song and then leave,” she said, lifting her chin so she could kiss my jaw.
What should have sent a chill down my spine only sent butterflies through my stomach. Her touch wasn’t cold against my skin this time, and a little part of me missed that, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was perfect for me and we were back together.
Clara smiled as she squished her nose against my neck. You’re perfect for me too, you know, cold or not.
I pulled up her favorite Andrew Belle album and shifted back in bed, letting the music play in the background until we finally fell asleep next to each other.
◆◆◆
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window. Had I really just slept through the night? I almost forgot what it felt like to be rested.
I shifted in bed and accidentally let the sunlight hit Clara in the face. She groaned and threw the covers over her head.
Twenty more minutes… or hours. Whichever comes last.
I laughed and joined her under the comforter, wrapping my arm around her side to pull her closer. Even better than sleeping through the night was getting to wake up next to her. I brushed her tangled hair away from her neck, pressing my lips to her skin and enjoying the giggle that escaped as she pressed her face harder into the pillow.
I probably should have offered her sweats or shorts to sleep in because she was still we
aring my long sleeve and her jeans from last night. She didn’t seem bothered, her back rising and falling with her breath as my hand brushed up and down her spine.
“Stop staring at me,” she grunted, her voice muffled by the pillow.
What else was there to stare at besides the perfect girl next to me? I rolled onto my back, lifting my right hand off her back to examine the blue mark on my palm. The shape was exactly like hers, but luckily it was just a deep scar and not an open cut. The blue color had the same tint as Clara’s scar and the Blue Star marble that it came from.
“Are you sure you don’t feel any different?” she asked, her face still pressed into the pillow. Right, mind reader.