Roots of Insight (Dusk Gate Chronicles -- Book Two)

by Breeana Puttroff

  He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling. “I missed you.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder while a swirl of emotions twisted her insides. “I missed you, too.”

  He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Want to get dressed and I’ll take you out for brunch, sleepyhead?”

  “Sure.”

  * * *

  Quinn nearly slept through her alarm on Monday morning. Somehow the dreams had taken on a whole new dimension. Instead of waking her, she felt locked in, unable even to escape by awakening. She was almost certain she’d seen Alvin in her dream last night, which left her with a shaky feeling as she got ready for school.

  She hadn’t decided whether she was looking forward to seeing William at school, or dreading it. Ever since their early-morning conversation in the common room, she’d wanted to talk to him again – would they really be able to be friends again?

  She wanted to desperately – to have one person here who understood her conflicting emotions, who, as she’d said to him in the common room, she could talk to without lying.

  On the other hand, she had no idea what Thomas had told him about what had happened at the gate. And what had Thomas even meant by kissing her? Trying to think about what had transpired left her feeling breathless, dizzy, and distracted as she walked out the door, pulled it shut, and turned to walk to her car.

  A motion in the corner of her vision made her jump and her heart race. It took a moment for her breathing to return to normal. It was only Zander, heading up the walkway toward her.

  “Good morning.” He was smiling – apparently their date yesterday had convinced him that everything was all right. Well, mostly convinced him, anyway. This was the first time he’d ever shown up on her doorstep before school.

  “Morning. Um, why are you here?”

  His face fell slightly; there must have been something in her voice she hadn’t meant to put there. “I thought I would surprise you and pick you up to give you a ride. Is that … okay?”

  “Of course. Thanks.” She stretched up to kiss him on the cheek, and he used his hand to gently guide her lips to his. The intensity of his kiss sent waves of heat running down to her toes.

  “I’m supposed to pick up Annie tonight, though,” she said, once they finally separated.

  “You won’t have to. I don’t have to work tonight, so my mom’s making dinner for everyone this evening. You and Annie can just hang out at our house after school. We’ll do your trig.”

  They reached the school just in time for Quinn to be able to get her things together and make it to her first class on time. She didn’t have a chance to look for William in the hallway. Her insides were tied up in knots, and she didn’t know what to do. She slid in to her seat next to Abigail, who turned to her immediately, eyebrows raised.

  “You never called me back yesterday,” her friend accused.

  “I know. I’m sorry. Zander hung out the whole day; he even stayed for dinner.”

  “So everything is all right between the two of you?”

  “I told you it was, Abigail. Nothing bad is going on here, I promise.”

  “It’s just so…”

  The bell rang, cutting her off, leaving Quinn to wrestle with the conflicting thoughts in her head through the whole lesson.

  It wasn’t until after her third period class that she first saw William in the hallway. His back was turned, and he was walking quickly away from her. She hurried to catch up with him, glad that this was one time during the day that both Zander and Abigail had classes on the other side of the building.

  “William!” she called when she got close.

  His pace slowed, but he didn’t stop, and he turned his head only barely. “Hey, Quinn. I don’t have time to talk right now.” He sped up again and disappeared into a classroom.

  Her heart took on an irregular beat. As distant as William could be sometimes, he’d never actually been dismissive of her like that before. She swallowed hard, confusion mixed with guilt chilling her veins. Maybe William had been right. Maybe it was a bad decision to even think about trying to balance friendships in two worlds. She was certainly making a mess of things.

  For the rest of the day, she searched for an opportunity to speak to William. She needed to know what Thomas had said to him, if he knew what Thomas had been thinking, or if William was mad at her. She was having trouble concentrating on anything while these questions plagued her.

  But the chance never came. William seemed more elusive today than he ever had before. She caught only glimpses of him in the hallway between classes, always when she was with Abigail or Zander. He didn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria.

  By the time Zander drove her to his house that evening, she didn’t know what to think. Abigail was still pressing her for answers about what had happened over the weekend. She wasn’t going to accept Quinn just blowing it off, and Quinn had no answers for her.

  Zander wasn’t asking questions, but something had changed between them. He definitely hadn’t been fully convinced yesterday.

  He was around all the time. The whole day, he had been waiting for her outside of every class he could, carrying her books, and laying his arm protectively across her shoulders. Twice, she’d had to surreptitiously re-position herself to his other side so that he wouldn’t rub against her injured arm as they walked.

  Her arm was another issue. It was healing, but still sore. Some of the bruises were finally starting to fade from midnight black to a greenish purple, but it still wasn’t anything she wanted anyone to see.

  She needed to talk to William to find out how long she was going to have to keep the stitches in. He had promised to give her some of the salve he’d used on her leg, too, that had prevented her from scarring badly. Even if he was mad because Thomas had kissed her, he was going to have to talk to her sometime.

  * * *

  Tuesday didn’t turn out much better than Monday. Abigail had finally laid off on the constant interrogations, but now she was watching Quinn suspiciously, as if she were hiding something.

  And still, she didn’t get to talk to William; she was beginning to worry that he was really angry at her, or that he had decided he didn’t want to be friends at all, and was just going to shut her out of his life completely. Again, she didn’t see him much all day, and he didn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria. She couldn’t exactly go looking for him, either, with Zander hovering over her protectively and Abigail watching her like a hawk.

  When she finished her shift at the library that night without once seeing William, a cold, sick feeling filled her stomach. Was this how it was going to end, then? Maybe Thomas’ kiss had been one of good-bye. He had known that it was the last time Quinn would ever visit, ever be part of their lives. She wondered if, after she had talked to William that morning, he had gone and spoken to his brother, convincing him that their connection with Quinn really was a bad thing. Suddenly, her time with Thomas at the gate began to take on an entirely new meaning in her mind.

  When she stepped outside and saw Zander’s truck, waiting for her by the curb, she nearly burst into tears. She had lied to him, been hiding from him. From Zander, who was sweet and wonderful and caring. Who showed up late in the evening with a warm car, so she wouldn’t have to drive home on the snow-packed streets. She didn’t deserve him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, in a concerned voice when he pulled into Quinn’s driveway. She had been quiet most of the way home.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.” She looked up at him, trying to smile convincingly.

  “Are you sure? You’ve seemed kind of … out of it, ever since the weekend. Did something happen between you and Abigail?”

  This would have been easier if he had been one of those normal boyfriends who worried about sports and their hair. “No, everything was fine on Saturday. I think … I just haven’t been sleeping well. I keep having these crazy nightmares.” That part was at least true, and could expla
in some of her behavior this week.

  “You didn’t tell me that,” he said, frowning and putting his arm around her. “What are you dreaming about?”

  “It’s the same kind of thing every night, but I can’t remember very much once I wake up. I’m looking for something I can’t find, and I’m lost, and there are trees … and flowers. And then I wake up.”

  He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. As he did so, his hand hit just the wrong way on the most sensitive of her healing cuts. She winced.

  “What? What did I do?”

  “Nothing, I’m okay. I just … I hurt my arm and there’s a bruise.”

  His eyes were wide. “When did you hurt yourself? What happened?” He reached for the zipper of her jacket, putting his hand inside on her shoulder.

  “It’s nothing. I’m okay. I just fell and banged it up a little.” She pulled away and yanked the zipper back up. “I’m freezing.”

  He looked a little stunned. “Okay. Let’s get you inside, then.”

  He walked her inside, to the entryway, and she turned and stretched up to kiss him. The kiss turned intense more quickly than she was used to; he put his arms under hers and lifted her, deep into his chest. She forced herself to ignore the pain in her arm.

  In the living room, Quinn’s mom cleared her throat. Zander let her go.

  “Um, thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, running his thumb from her temple to her chin. She shivered.

  “Good night.”

  “Night.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Good night, Zander,” her mom called.

  “Good night, Megan.” Zander disappeared through the door while Quinn shrugged off her coat and hung it in the closet.

  “How was work?”

  “It was good. Not very busy, but there were quite a few new magazines to process, and lots of stuff to put away. It must have been busy earlier.” She sat down on the couch, across from her mom who was curled up in one of the big armchairs. A book lay open, upside down, on one of the arms.

  “Did you have a good day at school?”

  “Yeah, it was fine.”

  “Good.” Her mom smiled. “I feel like I hardly ever see you these days. When you’re not at school or at work, you’re with Zander.”

  “You see me. We all just ate dinner together the other night.”

  “I know. But then everybody’s there, and you and Zander are too busy making goo-goo eyes at each other to pay much attention to anybody else.”

  Quinn’s cheeks turned pink. “We are not.”

  “So, things are going well between the two of you?”

  She nodded.

  “He always treats you as well as he does in front of me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Mom, it’s Zander you’re talking about.”

  “I know. It’s so cute to watch the two of you finally getting together like this. He’s been picking you up for school every day, hasn’t he?”

  “How do you even know that?” Her mom was the second grade teacher at Bristlecone Elementary. She left way before Quinn did in the mornings.

  “I see him getting ready to come get you when I drop Annie off at Maggie’s.”

  “Right. Yeah, he has been.”

  “How has everything else been? You’re not neglecting your school work for him, are you?”

  She shook her head. “School is fine.”

  “I was glad to see you go off with Abigail overnight last weekend. It wouldn’t be good to get so wrapped up in Zander that you forget your other friends.”

  Quinn gulped. She hoped her face wasn’t actually turning as red as it felt like it was. The weight of the lies she was telling everyone was settling like an enormous rock in her stomach. “I know,” she said, in as normal a voice as she could manage.

  * * *

  By Thursday, she had made up her mind that William was right. It was entirely impossible to manage a life of lying and hiding things from everyone she knew. Abigail had texted her that morning, saying she was sick, so Quinn might actually have a few minutes to herself during the day.

  She was going to find William alone sometime, figure out when he could rip the stupid stitches out of her arm, and then she was going to be done with the whole mess. So what if Thomas had kissed her? It didn’t mean anything. They didn’t even live in the same world, for crying out loud. She had been crazy to think she could keep this up.

  She was standing at her locker, getting ready for her first class when she saw him across the hall, walking toward her.

  “William!” she called.

  He didn’t even look up. His eyes were on the floor, his lips in a tight line.

  “William Rose!”

  It was like he couldn’t even hear her; he passed right by and disappeared into a classroom. Her stomach muscles clenched, and a swell of irritation rose into her chest. It was all she could do not to follow him and confront him right then, in the middle of his class.

  Then, in World History, something happened that took her mind completely off William for a few hours. At the end of class, Mr. Black returned the essays they had turned in on Monday. He walked around the room, setting the papers upside down on the tops of the desks. Quinn flipped hers over and her heart nearly stopped. There, at the top of the paper, where there was almost always an A, with maybe the occasional B+, was a big, red D.

  A “D”. Never in her life had she received a D on anything. Her stomach was doing gymnastics she’d never imagined were possible. How could this have happened? The bell rang while she was still staring at the paper, stunned. Mechanically, she tucked it neatly inside her World History folder, and placed it in her backpack.

  That afternoon, Zander drove her to his house, so they could hang out and do homework until it was time for her to go to work at the library. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She was still stressed about the World History paper. She had been too ashamed to take the paper back out during school and examine it to find out what, exactly had been wrong with it. On top of that, she hadn’t seen William again even once during the day.

  She was starting to feel like she might explode.

  “Is everything okay?” Zander asked. He was sitting next to her on the couch while she tried to read a book of essays for her English class. The words weren’t making any sense, though, and she kept having to start over.

  “Hmm?” she mumbled, not looking up.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was serious now.

  She closed the book and looked over at him. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been really distracted.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, and sighed. “Quinn…”

  At that moment, Maggie walked through the living room. “Hey guys, how’s the homework going?”

  “Good. Too much to do.” Zander answered.

  “That’s senior year for you. How about you, Quinn? How is trig going?”

  “It’s been a lot better with Zander helping me.”

  Maggie smiled, and then stepped out of the way as Annie and Sophia came barreling down the hallway, giggling wildly. As soon as they saw Zander and Quinn sitting on the couch, they ran over and jumped on them.

  “Ow!” Quinn yelled, sudden fire shooting up her arm when Annie accidentally kicked her as she splayed out in Zander’s arms, trying to steal the pen he had been using. She realized her mistake immediately and dropped the hand that had instinctively reached to protect her injury. “Be careful, Annie,” she amended, as gently as she could while trying to discreetly rub her aching arm.

  It was too late. He eyed her warily, staring at her arm.

  They weren’t alone again until an hour later, when Zander was driving her to work. He was silent during the ride, and the air felt unnaturally thick. Once the car had come to a stop in one of the parking spaces in the small lot, he looked over at her.

  “Let me see your arm.”

  “Zander, I’m fine.”

  He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

&n
bsp; She sighed, unbuckled the seatbelt and shrugged out of her coat. Then she pulled up her long sleeve as far as she could. The thick gauze pads that William had kept taped over her scabs and bruises had grown ratty by Monday. Quinn had just been replacing them with regular bandages over the stitches themselves, to keep them from rubbing against her clothes.

  Zander let out a low whistle. She knew her arm looked worse than it still felt. The deep black bruises had now all faded to mottled purples and sickly-looking greens. A couple of the abrasions were still scabbed over, though other spots were a healing pink, and the black threads of her stitches were visible underneath one of the bandages.

  “What happened?” He asked through clenched teeth. A deep line had appeared between his eyebrows.

  Her heart was racing, and beads of sweat were forming at her temples. “I told you, I fell and banged it up.”

  He reached over, and gently took her arm, just under the elbow, pulling it closer to him. With his other hand, he carefully lifted up the edge of one of the bandages.

  “When? When could you possibly have done this to yourself?” His voice was strained.

  She looked down, stalling while she tried to figure out how many days her cuts had been healing. “About a week and a half ago.”

  “I’m not understanding this. Where were you? When did you do this? Why didn’t you tell me? How? How could you have gone to the hospital and gotten stitches, and I don’t even know? What in the hell is going on here?”

  Her eyes popped open wide, tears forming in the corners, threatening to spill over. Zander had never talked to her like that before. Her hands were trembling and she was nauseous.

  “Quinn!” The look in his eyes changed to one of concern. “Are you all right? You’re scaring me here.”

  As hard as she was willing them to disappear, the tears betrayed her, drizzling down her cheeks in alarming numbers. She didn’t know what to do or to say. She didn’t have an answer for him.