Angel Fever

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 25

 

  “It will do no good now – and you know it,” Seb interrupted coldly. Before I could protest, he pulled a small, wrapped parcel out of his pocket and tossed it onto my lap. “Feliz cumpleaños, Willow,” he said, and disappeared back inside the building.

  I sat outside in the cold desert night for a long time.

  The wind had picked up; I could hear the dry rustle of sand stirring in the breeze. My cheeks still burning, I gazed down at Meghan’s lucky shoes. She knew Seb was in love with me – yet she’d still smiled her bright smile; she’d still loaned me her favourite shoes.

  She was so much nicer than me that it wasn’t funny. Oh god, what had gotten into me, accusing Seb like that? Seb, who I knew so well? Of course he’d never use Meghan; I should have known it instantly.

  You can’t refuse cake and then get upset when someone else takes it.

  That moment on the dance floor when I’d seen them kissing. For a second a chill touched me, then I shook my head in irritation. It had just been a shock, that was all. Seb had always been so adamant that he could never get involved with a human girl.

  Sorry, but your cake analogy is way off, I told him in my head. I still shouldn’t have accused him, though. Now he was furious with me, and I couldn’t blame him.

  I’ll apologize tomorrow, I thought wearily. Not that it would make much difference; we hardly spoke as it was.

  Suddenly I was exhausted and cold through. A deep longing for Alex pierced me; the only thing in the world I wanted was to be lying in his arms. I got to my feet and Seb’s present slipped off my lap.

  As I picked up the small, tightly wrapped parcel, I could sense Seb’s emotions entwined with it, his love for me clear. I winced; I didn’t feel up to dealing with whatever this was. I tucked it away in my pocket, unopened.

  Reaching behind me, I pulled out Alex’s present instead.

  His quick, spiky handwriting was barely visible in the moonlight. I angled the paper to bring it into view…and as I read the lines on the page, my throat closed.

  Dear Willow,

  I’m not very good with words. But my grandfather wrote this for my grandmother, and it’s always stuck in my head. Now it reminds me of you.

  Then, I came to you with the sound of battle ringing in my ears – the screams of men I have known.

  Your touch made it fade.

  Now, there are dark nights and sometimes darker days.

  Yet there are also your eyes. They find who I am; they pierce through me like a lance.

  I am pinned forever in your gaze.

  And speaking of forever, I do not know what will come.

  But my home is in your touch and in your eyes – and when you laugh, it lifts my soul to the sky and reminds me what could be.

  There is no greater universe than holding you:

  Then – or now – or forever.

  I love you. Today on your birthday and always.

  Alex

  When I slipped into our room, the bedside lamp was still on. Alex lay asleep with the covers half thrown off his chest. He looked so tired, even while sleeping, so vulnerable with his bandaged arm.

  The tension from the argument with Seb fell away. I leaned against the door, taking in the rise and fall of Alex’s breathing. Wonder came over me. How could it be that I knew Alex so intimately, that I’d seen his body so many times…and could still be so entranced by the sight of him?

  Silently, I got undressed, draping my jeans and the black sequinned top over the chair. I lined Meghan’s lucky shoes up carefully and brushed a smidge of dirt off one. I wanted them to be perfect when I gave them back to her tomorrow.

  As I slipped on a camisole top, I could feel I was being watched. I turned; Alex lay gazing at me with his good arm propped under his head, the woven bracelet a splash of colour against his wrist.

  “Just enjoying the view,” he said.

  I smiled and crawled into bed next to him. “How are you feeling?”

  He yawned and put his arm around me. “Yeah, okay. I took another pill. Did you have a good time?”

  I didn’t want to even go into the conversation with Seb – Alex would say I should have minded my own business, and he’d be right. I shrugged. “Being with you is a lot better. ” I fell silent as I stroked his chest, gazing down at him. “I loved the poem,” I said quietly.

  He gave an embarrassed grimace. “I guess it was kind of a stupid present. ”

  “It wasn’t. It made me cry. ”

  “Okay, then it was definitely a stupid present. It was supposed to make you happy. ”

  “They were happy tears. ”

  Alex regarded me with a small smile. “Happy tears,” he repeated. “You are such a girl sometimes. ”

  “Is that a problem?” My breath caught slightly as his hand moved down my side, caressing every rise and fall of me.

  He shook his head, his eyes steady on mine. “No. That is totally not a problem. ” He’d eased up my camisole; though I could feel he was still in pain, he bent and kissed my exposed waist softly, lingeringly. “I meant every word, Willow,” he whispered. “It was like my granddad was right inside my head – it’s exactly what I feel. I couldn’t get through any of this without you. ”

  I swallowed hard and put my hand over his. His fingers were warm under mine; we wove them together as we gazed at each other. If holding me was greater than any universe…then so was looking into his eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll never have to. ”

  AS THE WEEKS PASSED, ALEX kept himself and the others as busy as possible. He didn’t know what else to do. Thankfully, there was a lot to occupy his thoughts: the daily running of the base, the continued training of the AKs. Tearing down the old Salt Lake Eden set took several days, and Alex relished the mindless work as he and the others pulled out nails and stacked planks of wood.

  The fact that they needed more raw materials for new sets was a relief too. He and some of the other guys went to the ruins of Vegas, where they spent a few days scavenging building supplies. As they sifted through ruins and dragged out salvageable pieces, the autumn sun beat down – sometimes hot enough for them to peel off their shirts. The work was hard and dusty, and Alex buried himself in it, refusing to dwell on the reason why additional training sets were necessary.

  Brief excitement came when a trio of angels appeared over the almost-intact Caesar’s Palace, gliding in a triangular hunting pattern. Alex got two, and either Seb or Sam got the other, and everyone cheered, clapping them on the shoulders. And though Alex knew better, for a second he felt a sense of hard satisfaction.

  As if three angels out of millions even made a difference.

  “Come on,” he said finally, turning away. Quarters crunched under his foot from a shattered slot machine. “Let’s get back to work. ”

  When they returned to the base, they built a new set: a forest simulation, this time. They all stayed up one night cutting out leaf shapes and painting them in the training room, until it looked like every autumn tree in the world had shed its leaves on the floor.

  “Looking good,” Willow said, pressing briefly against him. She wore an old sweatshirt and had a smudge of paint on her nose.

  Alex nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be a realistic set. ”

  She glanced up at him, started to say something, and broke off. Finally she just squeezed his hand and went back to painting.