Cornerstone

by Misty Provencher

  “He sounds great.” I say and I try to suppress the thought that maybe replacing Grace wouldn’t be so bad. Then I think of her gray-green eyes and her little dimpled cheek and I feel so guilty I think sorry twice, just in case she’s listening.

  “He is great.” Garrett says and his eyes center of mine like he’s trying to crawl into my mind. I would let him if I knew how. “He advised me about you, you know.”

  “Me? Why?” I ask. Then I think of all the tactics and strategies and I think I know why he’d tell Garrett. He was probably warning him against getting involved with someone who would wreck his reputation. Or maybe Wally just liked Head Cheerleaders better.

  “He said you were a smart choice.” Garrett says with a grin. I’m ashamed then and wonder if the whole world can hear what I’m thinking. It feels like it, so I think sorry twice for Wally too. “He said if he was a bettin’ man, he’d put all his quarters on you. He was right.”

  I reach out with my taped hand and he leans toward me, so I can touch the silky twine of his hair with my fingertips. I put my fingers against his jaw, dusting my hand over his skin so he leans closer and I kiss him.

  I think that the helium balloon in my stomach will eventually deflate, but it doesn’t. The more I kiss him, the more I want to. His breathing grows stronger against my cheek until he finally pulls away, gently removing my hand.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Absolutely nothing.” he says but he presses his lips together like it’s taking all his strength to say it. “It’s just that I don’t want to rush this.”

  I sit back in my chair and feel my numb arm tingling back to life. I let it take my attention so that I don’t have to look at Garrett and chance him seeing all the shame in my eyes. All I want to do is rush this. I want him to say he’s mine, one hundred percent mine, so I don’t have to guess anymore. So I can touch him whenever I want.

  My arm seems to mirror the emotion, prickling now with hot pins. Instead of mellowing, the heat intensifies and the pins start feeling like knitting needles jabbing through my skin. I want to reach into my cast and press against the skin. The sensation becomes so unbearable, so quickly, that I forget all about what Garrett thinks of my kiss and I crush my lips together to stop a tortured groan from breaking free.

  Garrett is out of his chair, beside me, hovering over me and talking in my ear.

  “It’s all right. This is normal. Your nerves are rebuilding.” he says, but he’s talking too quickly to fool me. He’s scared.

  Within seconds, I understand why. The pain rips through my arm like a blade. Garrett’s hands press on my shoulders, keeping me in the chair, but his pressure isn’t enough to flatten the needles inside my skin. The pain in my arm mutes all my other senses. I squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my jaw against another moan. Garrett sounds muffled and far away, telling me I’m going to be okay and I don’t believe him.

  Suddenly, Grace appears, projected on the inside my eyelids.

  She’s beaming at me, with her tiny, baby teeth and I see her as if she’s real and human, standing in front of me. She’s not some gauzy, shiny ghost at all. I see her thick eyelashes and her silky skin, her baby-fine honey hair. I believe that I could open my eyes and she’d be there too, but I won’t chance it, because the sight of her takes the edge off of the needles piercing my arms.

  Breathe through your nose. Grace tells me, pointing a chubby finger to her own. Like this.

  She takes a deep, dramatic breath and then blows it out her mouth like a whoopee cushion.

  “It hurts.” I tell her, but Garrett answers me first, from somewhere beyond my eyelids. “It’s going to pass. Hang in there. You’re okay.”

  I like him. Grace says. He’s good in his heart. Want to see what I can do?

  I can’t answer. The pain spikes up my arm and I think that if I could just touch my skin under the cast, it would help, but I can’t get to it. The urge to press on my skin becomes unbearable. I claw at my cast with my eyes squeezed tight and when there is no relief, I raise my arm over my head. I bring it down hard against the table top SLAM! My bones vibrate inside the cast like a tuning fork. It feels good. I do it again and again, until I hear the cast crack, then shatter. With the air on my skin, I hold my freed arm to me and Garrett’s arms buckle over the top of mine.

  Watch! Grace commands and inside my eyes, I writhe in pain as she blows a bubble from her lips. She smiles through the sphere of iridescent bubble gum and then she blows the bubble even bigger. She giggles. She’s made a gum balloon so big that I can’t even see Grace behind it. All I can see is a grinning version of her through the middle, as if she’s caught in a fun house mirror. Her musical laughter makes the bubble quiver. With one happy squeal she pops it and a sparkling shower of translucent petals drift down over both of us.

  The sensation of pain ebbs away. The needles pull free in clusters and I stop shaking. I rest the back of my head against Garrett’s stomach, eyes closed. I try to calm my heartbeat by matching my breathing to his steady rhythm.

  All done. Grace claps her hands together. She does a floppy, bye-bye wave to me. I panic that she’s leaving for good.

  “Don’t go!” I shout to her and she and Garrett both answer in unison, I’m not leaving you, even as I see her disappear into the darkness of my own eyelids.

  I open my eyes and she is gone. Garrett’s arms are still stretched around me from behind, pinning me to the chair and cradling my uncasted arm against me. Hunks of the cast lie smashed and scattered all over the table and floor. It’s a moment before he seems convinced that he can let go and then he moves back to the chair in front of me.

  “You’ve got some kick, little girl.” he laughs. “How’s your arm?”

  “Is she gone?”

  “Who? Your Connection? They only come when you really need them. She’ll be back if you run into any more trouble. How’s the arm?”

  I’m almost afraid to move it. Slowly, I lift it away from my body, expecting the thing to crack and fall like a broken flower stem. But besides the skin looking mummified, my arm feels fine. Better than fine, actually, maybe even good. Garrett reaches out and takes my wrist, tenderly feeling his way over the bone toward the elbow.

  “Tell me if it hurts.” he says. His touch is so light I can hardly feel it at all. When I don’t protest, he does it again, with a little more pressure. I shake my head at him, still nothing. The third time, he actually squeezes in places, but there is no pain. It just feels like my arm.

  “How can that happen?” I ask. “It hasn’t hurt since that day you massaged my hand at the track and now it seems normal. It can’t be okay. It hasn’t even been a week.”

  “Told you I’m a healer.” He winks at me. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve been able to take down swelling and speed up healing, but I don’t think I’m good enough to have completely healed the bone. The Cornerstone did that. It heals whatever needs healing. Vitamin deficiencies and viruses and things like that are painless when they heal, but things like missing organs or broken bones can be tough. It’s the welding back together on the spot that does it. It’s the disadvantage to immediate healing, but the good news is that you’re over the worst of it.”

  “Why didn’t the Addo tell me all of this?”

  “Would you have wanted to know that was coming?” he smirks. “Sometimes thinking about what’s going to happen is worse than what actually happens.”

  Pure fear drizzles into my veins. “What else is going to happen?”

  “Nothing.” Garrett grins. “The worst is over.”

  “Do you swear that’s the truth?”

  “I’d tell you.” he assures me. He stands up from the table. “You just stay where you are and I’ll get this cleaned up.”

  Chapter 18

  We lay around together and talk and watch movies all afternoon. And kiss. His kiss is a color too. Silver. Like raw wires held together until they explode in sparks.

  In between, there are phone calls from Garrett’s f
riends, all wanting to know if we’re going to Jen’s party. The first few calls, Garrett tells whoever is on the other end that he’s got other plans. He winks at me when he says it and I feel like I don’t have any bones.

  “Sounds like everyone’s going.” I tell him after the third inquiry call.

  “Only a couple of my friends and probably all of your enemies.” Garrett adds. “We’re not missing out on anything.”

  We. I think of showing up at Jen’s with Garrett and walking into her lion’s den. Adrenaline drips into my blood and my pulse quickens at the thought of it. And then the prickling starts again. My stomach is a bag of pins but it’s not exactly painful. Yet. Grace’s voice suddenly spills into my head like a cooling gel.

  Control it. She says. Don’t let it take over. You are stronger than this.

  I roll the words around in my mind and I focus. I try to picture myself, as if I’m the size of the nail on Grace’s pinky finger, so tiny I can stand inside my own stomach. I’m the only one who can reach this far inside myself and help. I visualize the micro-me pushing the pins out of the pink lining and I feel it working. My stomach relaxes.

  That’s right. Grace encourages. Get inside what scares you and change it.

  And then, Grace disappears and the prickling is gone and I blink to see Garrett’s face in mine.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “That was in my stomach.” I say. “I think I just got guts.”

  He laughs out loud. “You probably did.”

  “I think we should go to Jen’s party after all.” I tell him. “Nothing to fear, right?”

  “True,” Garrett agrees slowly. His eyes are knowing and he grins. “The adrenaline is kicking in, isn’t it?”

  It’s more of a statement than a question. I shrug, but he’s right. My body is surging with strength. I swear I can see it radiating from my skin, the same way that waves of heat make puddles appear on a dry road.

  “I really think we should go...” I’m cut off by the ringing phone.

  “I’ve got nothing against letting every guy at Simon Valley know you’re taken.” The phone rings again and Garrett walks over to it without picking it up. “It’s going to kill your chances of getting any other dates.”

  “I don’t want any other dates!” I tell him and Garrett answers the phone.

  “Hey Zane-o,” He chuckles into the receiver. “Yeah, I think we’re going. Yup. Me and Nalena Maxwell.”

  The sound of my name, imprinted with his voice, makes my heart floats.

  When my mom and Garrett’s family returns, long after dinner time, I can’t remember the name of even one movie we watched, but I remember every single one of Garrett’s kisses and how it made me feel. I can’t help smiling like a dope as I sit beside Garrett, our legs touching.

  “Your cast is gone. Hallelujah.” Sean says when he comes in. Mr. Reese carries Iris in, drooped over his shoulder and out cold. He glances at my bare arm and gives me a silent thumbs up. My mom gets one look at my arm and gasps.

  “It kind of came off.” I tell her.

  “Are you all right?” She comes over and kneels in front of me, running her fingertips lightly over my skin as she watches my face for any indication of pain. She’s got her worried brow on. I can’t do anything but nod with a crazy grin.

  “Can you believe it?” I say. The pain seems like something that happened a long time ago, buried now, under the euphoric avalanche of Garrett’s kisses. She aims her worried face at Garret.

  “I’m so sorry, Garrett.” she tells him. “I should’ve been here for that. Thank you for handling it.”

  Garrett shrugs like it was nothing.

  “She did fine.” he says, as if I really did. “She whacked that cast off like a champ.”

  My mom winces and casts her eyes down on my silver claw. She covers her grin with her fingertips.

  “Tape will work,” she says. “But the Addo sent you a sling if you don’t want to look like a metal lobster.”

  “Can we make it so the Cornerstone doesn’t show?” I ask. My mom rustles through her purse and pulls out what looks like a small, black-leather surgeon’s mask, the untied strings dangling at the edges. “I want to hide it for Jen’s party tomorrow.”

  “Party?” my mom asks. “I thought Jen was giving you trouble.”

  “She came over to apologize.”

  “Must’ve been a pretty big apology.” she frowns. “I’m not sure I’d trust that girl.”

  “We’re not staying long.” Garrett winks at me. “Just long enough to get a point across.”

  My mom unwraps all the duct tape, and I grimace as she yanks off the last piece like it’s a demonic band-aid.

  “Sorry.” Garrett grimaces with me, holding the rock in place while my mom unpeels puts the fabric over the top of the stone and wraps the strings around my hand. I watch her do it, her expression both placid and focused as she weaves the strings around my hand. When she’s done, the sling is snug and as artfully tied as ballet slippers. She pats my hand with a resigned frown, but when she looks up at me, she switches it to a smile. I know she still doesn’t want me to do this. But I need to and she understands that. She holds my hand in hers and the kitchen light outlines her hair in a glow that makes me think of angels.

  “It looks a lot better, don’t you think?” She tries to keep the smile fixed in place.

  “Thank you, Mom.” I say.

  Chapter 19

  For the last day of May, it’s cold, which turns out to be an ginormous blessing. I dress for Jen’s party like the war it is: in my best fitting jeans and my only long-sleeve shirt that I refused to alter for my cast. This shirt is perfect for the party since it clings to my curves and has these crazy-long sleeves that flare out like bells, covering my hands. Only my fingertips stick out.

  Garrett leans on the downstairs bathroom door jamb while I hang over the sink, brushing on mascara in the mirror. It’s nerve wracking since I have to focus on not only getting the mascara on right, but also keeping my mouth shut while I do it.

  “You don’t have to stand there. I’ll be done soon.” I tell him.

  “I want to know all your secrets.” he grins. “Like...how you can put that stuff on without sticking that thing in your eye.”

  “Very carefully.” I mumble and my mouth drops open while I try to keep the wand off my eyeball. I swipe the lashes and clamp my mouth shut again, pulling out a tube of lip tint next.

  “Don’t put that on.” he says but his tone is distracted as his eyes follow the motion of the brush. I pause the silvery-pink applicator over the center of my lip.

  “Why?”

  He’s still staring at my mouth. “Because I’m just going to take it off for you.”

  “It tastes like vanilla almond ice cream.” I tell him and his eyes slide lazily up into mine.

  “Well, in that case...” he says. “Put on a lot.”

  “Ewww.” Mark says as he walks by. He makes a face as he pretends to jam a finger down his throat. Garrett gives him a light kick before he disappears down the basement stairs. I turn off the bathroom light.

  “I’m ready to go.” I say but Garrett doesn’t move away from the doorway. Instead, he reaches for me, pulls me close and presses his mouth to mine.

  “Mmmm.” he hums. “Vanilla almond. You’ve got more of that, right?”

  “Your mother is sitting here! Listening! On the couch!” my mom calls from down the short hall. I giggle and Garrett moves from the door, reaching back with his hand to take mine. We step into the family room and my mom puts her stack of paper down to stand up and look me over.

  “The sling doesn’t even show.” she says, obviously pleased. She walks over, folds me in her arms and whispers in my ear, “You look stunning, my baby.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I say, a little embarrassed that I’m hugging my mom while Garrett is waiting for me. My mom gives me another squeeze.

  “I’m so proud of you.” she says.

  “God, Mom.” I laugh.
“I’m just going to a party...not an inauguration.”

  “I know, I know.” she says. “It’s just that...well, I love you so much.”

  “Okay, Mom. Love you too.” I tell her with an awkward smile. She doesn’t let go until I finally pull away as gently as I can so it doesn’t hurt her feelings. She gives me an extra tight hug before she lets go completely and I laugh, scurrying away to Garrett. “Let’s get out of here or she’ll never let me go!”

  My mom’s reminders, to stay together and to be careful, follow us up the stairs and out the door.

  ~ * * * ~

  The cops are the only ones Jen didn’t invite to her party, but I’m sure they’ll end up crashing it at some point. There’s just too much music and too many teenagers milling around out front for this party to go unnoticed. As soon as we walk in the front door, Garrett does a quick scan of the dining room on the left, the living room on the right, the kitchen that lies at the end of the hall straight ahead of us and the ascending staircase. He bends to whisper in my ear, “We don’t have to stay long.”

  Some kids are playing some kind of drinking/euchre game, at the dining room table. When one of them throws down a card in the middle of the table and whoops, everyone grabs a shot glass from the center of the table and slams it. A girl with white-blond hair glares at us as she slams her shot glass back down on the table. Garrett steers me away from the dining room.

  The music is cranked in the living room. The room is wall-to-wall bodies and it looks like one solid, fashionably clothed, thing, that bounces and grinds in waves. Audrine and Kris are standing on top of the couch cushions, in the middle of the couch, making out. I duck behind Garrett’s shoulder in case they come up for air, but he leads me away, down the hall to the kitchen.