by Abra Ebner
Jake pressed his lips together in thought. “Here, follow me.” He grabbed my arm, his hand burning hot against my bare skin.
He whipped me around and away from my freedom. Walking with determination, I couldn’t help but be dragged behind him. We made our way toward the library, a place I’d thought we were going to avoid. I never liked the library, and not just because of the fact that Jane loved it. The problem was that books spoke to me here, and as you can imagine, it was distracting. We walked in, the whispers lighting up my undiluted mind. If there was anytime I would falter and want a hit of Valium, it was now—here.
“Jake,” I cautioned. “I hate it here.”
He refused to allow me to wriggle free. “That’s because you can’t enjoy it for what it is. For years I’ve wanted to show you that this isn’t a place to get all worked up about.”
“What do you know about what I think?” I retorted. It was a stupid question.
He glared. Everything.
“Why did you watch me so closely?”
Jake stopped, releasing my arm. “Because it was entertaining to watch you flounder, and truthfully, there just aren’t very many mind readers left. Black Angels have taken them all and abused them for their powers. If it weren’t for Max, you’d be a goner, too.”
I angrily crossed my arms, refusing to look at him. “Whatever. That’s sadistic.”
He pinched my arm and I reeled out of my defensive pose. “Ouch! What was that for?” I was forced to look at him, and I froze. He’d removed his glasses and there it was. The veiled light had returned, the shadows of the overhead stacks inviting it out to play. My arms dropped limply to my sides, my body overcome with elation. I was being sucked into the feeling, hopelessly falling away from any anger I once felt.
Jake went about mindlessly thumbing through books. I was confused. He didn’t seem to notice this light at all, and though I thought that was what he was trying to show me, I quickly learned it wasn’t. Perhaps he didn’t know about it?
He pulled a book out and held it before me, perfectly framed within the light as it wrapped it’s blue, smoky tendrils around the cover. “See, listen to it.”
Stuck hopelessly in a state of blissful calmness, poetry entered my ears. I reached out for the light, grasping the book instead as the blue wisps twisted about my fingers. Jake searched for another book, turning away from me. The hold the light had over my thoughts broke, and the poetic voices grew louder. It took all my strength not to grab him and twist his gaze back toward me. I shook my head, clenching my fists over the cover. Stop that, I told myself.
“Can you hear it?” his hands were above him, thumbing for a book on the top shelf.
With so many books, the poet’s words were a blur, but the melody of the syllables was beautiful and relaxing.
He brought down another book, replacing the one in my hands, along with the return of the light. “So, when you’re forced to come here for class, just come to this section. It’s a lot easier to digest. It’s like music.”
I told myself this wasn’t right, using all my strength to turn away from him, still holding the book. Keeping my eyes fixed on the ground in order to avoid another glance at the light, I tried to hone in on just one voice. I hoped that by doing so, I could get my sanity back.
“Whose voices are they?” I asked.
I heard him pull another book from the shelf. “You’re saying you don’t know?”
I let my backpack fall from my shoulders, suddenly feeling as though it were holding me back, keeping me from some sort of freedom. “No… I don’t know. I hate it here, remember?” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing up. The light caught me. What was I thinking? I squeezed the book hard, as though it were the only thing keeping me from being sucked in.
“It’s the author’s voice.” He pressed the book in his hand toward me, again taking the one I had been holding. I forced my eyes shut, only to open them to the cover of the new book. I flipped it around in my grasp, nervously reading the title over and over—Edgar A. Poe.
Edgar’s voice dominated my thoughts, surprisingly soft and withheld. I used the sound of it to draw me away from the light, swallowing hard. “That’s unreal.”
Jake unhooked his glasses from his shirt and pushed them back over his eyes. The tug toward him ceased instantaneously. I gasped.
“What?” He gave me a strange look.
For a moment I wondered if I’d allowed my guard to fall enough to permit him to hear my thoughts. I grew further nervous.
“Did you hear something interesting?” he added, narrowing his eyes.
I pulled the book to my chest, hugging it like I would my savior. I hadn’t let him know, right? “Oh, uh… it’s just amazing, is all.” The sucking sensation was gone as though it had never been there. My independence had been returned.
Jake watched me for a moment. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah,” I insisted, trying to get myself to believe it as well.
The bell rang then.
I used it as an excuse to find better overhead lighting. “Let’s go.” I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the library, avoiding any shadows that provoked this emotion out of Jake, this emotion I don’t think he even knew about.
In the hall, Jake pulled back to stop me, using a good amount of strength to do so. “Whoa, hold on.” He was breathing hard as he removed his glasses once more, rubbing the sweat from his brow. No blue light came of it, just Edgar’s voice as I continued to grasp desperately to the book. “What’s your issue?”
With a fluttering stomach, I gazed deep into his eyes. Where did it go? Kids crashed out of the doors around us, leaving us in a swarm of bodies. He quickly replaced his glasses.
Everyone was in a rush to get as far away from this place as possible. I took a deep breath, Jake and I the only resistance amongst the flow. “Can we please just leave now?”
“Yeah. Okay. Come on,” he gently grasped my elbow. “Let’s just get out of here.”
We walked to the lot in silence. I left Jake at his car with a simple goodbye, thanking him for the book, which I’d pretty much stolen. Walking on a little further, I met Wes as he stood by his car, looking toward the field across the lot. He wrapped his arm around me, not bothering to break his gaze from the field.
“Hey, girl, how was your day?” Wes leaned just enough toward me to give me a kiss on the head.
I rolled into his one-armed embrace, speaking into his shirt. “It was—interesting.” Edgar A. Poe whispered tragic words between us. I pulled away from Wes, seeing his gaze was still on the field. I looked in the direction he was, seeing the owl sitting on the fence about fifty yards away. “Is she always going to be around now?”
Wes looked down at me. “You jealous?”
I snorted. “No.” I denied, though it did make me jealous in some strange way. “What does she want, anyway?”
Wes brushed his hand across my cheek. “Me, I guess.”
I laughed. “Well, she’s not going to get you.” I stood on my toes until my lips met with his. I heard the owl cry, adding to my vindictive drive. I parted my lips, grasping Wes’s sleeves and pulling him closer.
“Emily.” He spoke against my lips, laughing. “Not here.”
I grinned. “Then let’s go.” I insisted, popping open the car door behind Wes and playfully nudging him down into the driver seat. I tossed the book and my bag in the backseat before climbing in behind him, straddling his lap. The book had popped open, Edgar’s voice filling my head, but it was romantic.
“Really?” Wes’s cheeks were flushed. “Here?”
I shrugged, grinning back. “You have tinted windows,” I added.
The truth was that I was nervous about what had happened with the veiled light, and it had me feeling guilty. I needed to overcompensate for my faltering feelings toward this new emotion for Jake by replacing it with a tangible one that I could control. Wes’s lust was controllable, and Edgar’s poems were a good distraction for my thoughts.
I gasped in delight, and the heat in the car rose a couple degrees. The world around us fell away. I reached my hand under his shirt, unhooking the buckle of his belt. Our lips were unable to release from each other’s, locked tight. The words in my head made me forget everything but this; nothing but this mattered. I lifted his shirt over his head, his skin slick with sweat against my palms. I sighed softly.
Wes’s muscles were visibly tense, but his touch was so soft. He trembled ever so gently, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He smiled against my lips. I smiled back, but I could not hear what he was thinking. The poem in my head had overcome me as I clung to the words that had suddenly made me feel so desperate and afraid. I wanted to cry, suddenly dropping my head and pressing my forehead to his neck. I was overcome with emotion, overcome with the feeling and rush of us together.
“What?” he asked.
I just shook my head.
He ran his hands slowly down my sides to my waist. “Are you afraid?”
I laughed, thinking of the poem. It had been about a girl named Annabel Lee and a love that was forbidden. It had reminded me of how short life is, and how different our life together was always going to be. “No.”
Wes nudged my forehead with his chin and my head rose. His eyes were so full of emotion, glazed with pure love. He bit his lip, half smiling. “Lost?”
I laughed nervously, nodding lightly.
He traced my lips with his finger, his other hand spread on my back where he tugged at my shirt, gently pulling it over my head. “I think I’ve got it from here,” he confidently added. His hand traced down the center of my chest to my belly button; I giggled. His hands moved to my hips and I leaned close to him—
“Bang!”
I flew back away from Wes, my head hitting the low, tinted windshield and knocking Edgar’s voice out of my thoughts. “Ouch!”
The initial sound was followed with a series of high-pitched scratching noises, like nails on a chalkboard.
“What the—” Wes had slammed against the back of his seat, looking horrified.
I looked over my shoulder. The owl was on the hood behind me, her wings outstretched and her eyes narrow. I screamed, and she chortled loudly, throwing herself at the glass.
I breathed hard as I rolled away from Wes and into my own seat. “Wes!” I yelled. It was frightening, watching her like this. She was hurting herself.
Wes rolled down the window, putting his hand out. “Stella, it’s okay.” He clicked his tongue, talking with a soothing voice.
The owl calmed a little, but her feathers were still fluffed. Her eyes flicked from me to Wes and back again. Wes wiggled his fingers, clicking again. She nipped at him. He pulled back with a frown, blood oozing from a small cut. He cursed and licked his finger.
Disgust pinched my stomach. “Wes! Don’t do that! She probably has worms.”
Wes laughed. “I’m part animal, Em. It doesn’t matter.”
I grunted. “Gross, Wes…” I wasn’t even about to say what I was thinking.
Wes slowly put his arm back out the window. This time Stella nuzzled against it. He twisted his fingers through the downy feathers on her neck. “Even if you’re not jealous, Stella sure is.”
I looked from Wes to Stella. “I’m not competing with that thing.” I grabbed for my shirt which had ended up in the back seat. While I was back there, I slammed the poetry book shut, grumbling.
Wes brushed his hand over Stella’s head again and again, her eyes slanting closed. “We’ll just have to be a little more private next time.”
I rolled my eyes, discouraged by the whole day. Wes rolled the window back up and started the car. “It’ll be okay, Emily. It was you that wanted to take it slow, remember? We haven’t even officially had our second date. You don’t want to be labeled a floozy.”
An icy glare grew across my face. “I’m not a floozy,” I murmured. “And so what if I am? With you, it’s different.”
His brows elevated. “So, you really wouldn’t have stopped me this time, even at the very last moment?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you’ll never find out.” The moment couldn’t have been more perfect. Stupid bird.
Wes slapped his hand against his leg. “I knew my chances were good.” He made a hand gesture at the owl.
Stella ran her nails over his hood one more time. We both winced.
Wes hit the dash with his hand, startling Stella. “Stop that.”
She turned away from him impudently.
“Are you sure she’s not human?”
Wes laughed. “I’m sure.” He watched Stella sulk for a moment, and when she wasn’t looking, he took my hand. “So much for starting over, I guess,” he teased, lacing his fingers with mine.
I squeezed his hand. “We’re still starting over, just… in our own way, I guess.”
Jane:
I still hadn’t seen or heard from Max all day, and I was beginning to worry that what I said had finally pushed Max away from me. I walked out to the lot, hoping I could catch a ride with Wes and Emily. I saw Wes’s car and began to make my way across the lot. Reaching it, I caught a glimpse of something I never wanted to.
I turned away, my mouth agape. “O.M.G.,” I murmured.
Quickly walking away from the car and back toward the curb, I tried to think of a way to wash my mind of what I’d seen, and find another ride. The bus had already left, and most of the students didn’t like me—they only liked Max. Though I’m sure they’d still agree to give me a ride out of pure association, I’d feel awkward asking. A part of me knew they wondered why Max was with me and not someone that was better suited in the looks department, like Liz.
The small crane was tucked into the front pocket of my jeans, my hand grazing against it as I pulled out my cell. My shoulders sank, watching as the crane fell to the ground. I knelt and picked it up, giving it a kiss before turning my attention back to the phone. I would call my mother in a last ditch effort, though she was still working and wouldn’t be able to get here for another thirty minutes. Maybe by then Wes and Emily would be finished doing… whatever.
I began to punch the keys.
“Well, hey!”
There was a voice from across the lot, but I didn’t figure it was meant for me. There were still a few students lingering at their cars. I kept punching keys, my head bowed.
“Hey, Jane, isn’t it?”
The voice was closer now. I sighed and stopped, not in the mood to be bothered but not seeing any way out of it. I slowly glanced up. At first I was confused, then surprised. The girl from the Corner Café in Winter Wood was briskly approaching, a stack of official looking papers in her slender hand. Her curls bounced behind her, her mouth fixed into a warm smile.
What was she doing here?
“Hey,” she said again, reaching me. Her voice was perfect, not a hint of breathiness after her trek to reach me.
“Hi,” I tilted my head, conveying surprise. “What are you doing here?” My phone was left ringing in my hand. I hung up.
Navia shrugged, making it look graceful. “I wanted to see what it was like.” My eyes grazed over her, noticing her more civilian looking attire, though it did little to detract from her ethereal beauty. It looked as though she’d had her makeup professionally applied, but as I stared, I began to see it was just her natural beauty, no makeup needed—of course.
“It? You mean school?”
She nodded with wide eyes. “It’s fascinating.” She lifted the stack of p
apers to eye level. “I just applied.” She was pointing to her signature at the bottom of the page. It was large and flagrant, embellished with a number of swirls and symbols. I wondered what Debbie in administration thought of it.
I laughed as she dropped the papers back to her side. “There’s nothing fascinating about school,” I warned. I began to wonder what it was Navia and Jake saw in this, and what they put down under ‘race’ on the school records. I guess when it wasn’t something they had to do, it became something they wanted to do.
“Will you be my friend?” Navia hooked her arm with mine, guiding me to sit on the nearby ledge.
Her cinnamon scent wafted over me, making me think of sticky buns. “I… uh…” I should be happy about this, but the overwhelming feelings of sadness that were facing me after last nights fight with Max subdued my excitement. I tried to smile as best I could. “Sure.”
Navia frowned. “Are you okay?”
I cursed myself for letting my emotions show. She probably thought I was weak. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I urged.
Navia tilted her head, looking at me the way my mother did when she knew I was lying. “Come on, you can tell me. We’re friends now, right?” She gave me a gentle nudge, crossing her ankles elegantly.
A real smile graced my lips. It felt good to have someone bug me the way she was. Typically people left it alone when sometimes I needed someone to talk to. This simple act from her made me feel important. I shrugged, tilting my head to my shoulder. “It’s just a guy.”
She dramatically swayed beside me, taking me along for the ride. After her long swoon she giggled. “A boy, huh? Well, I’m an expert in that department.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
She looked content to see me react this way. “I’m a pixie, remember?” she whispered. “We love our boys.”
I kept laughing, finding her charm endearing. I could see how she could easily destroy the hearts of every boy in this school. “That’s what I’ve heard—about pixie’s, that is.”
She nodded gravely. “Afraid there’s nothing we can do about it. Our reputations precede us.” She threw her hands in the air. “Need a ride?” She looked toward Wes’s car with a brow raised and her mouth slanted. “So uncivilized. Like animals.”