“Whatever,” she said, holding up one of the blouses. “I’ll probably be a while.” Her mouth twitched into a smile. “But if you want some alone time beforehand… I can’t blame you.”
I blushed, pushing myself up from her bed and walking to the door that led to her own private patio. I did want to be alone with him, but not for the reasons she thought.
“Okay,” I said, “I’m heading out.”
“I’ll let Glenn know,” Marin said absently, shifting a different shirt up and holding it against her body.
I left the room, clicking the patio door shut behind me. I made my way around the side of the estate to the main road, then wandered up the beach towards Score’s house.
It was windy and cloud-covered today, not nearly as nice as yesterday afternoon had been. I wondered if it would be a problem for me to get there a little early. Hopefully not.
I strode up to Harbor Estate, making my way to the enormous porch. This would be the second time I’d had to knock on the door. Usually, Score was out waiting for me. I felt a flurry of nerves as I struck my knuckles against the wood.
No answer.
I cracked the door open, peering in. It hit me like hot wax dripping down my back, warm and thick.
He was singing.
I shivered, slipping inside the door and closing it quietly.
He was up in the loft, and even from down here I could see him perched on his bed, guitar in hand. My pulse raced. His voice… it was amazing hearing it. It was rich, with a slight bit of huskiness, beautiful tonal quality, technically perfect— but that wasn’t what struck me the most. It called to me like an echo of my soul— it felt like waking up, alive, brilliant.
His lyrics were a mystery, sung in a language I didn’t know. The emotions still dipped into my bones, a sort of giddy relief and happiness, a bit of anxiety, a blush of something else, hitting me right in the stomach.
I closed my eyes, leaning against the door. I felt a stabbing in my heart, suddenly sad that the moment would inevitably come to an end, that we’d both be leaving to pretend we were human and normal. I slid down the wall, sitting at the bottom of the door, wanting him to play forever.
Most of the time, I wished I could go back to before I’d turned, but when I was with Score, and even more so now that I was listening to him… I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
I inhaled sharply, and his playing stopped abruptly.
“Hello?” he called out, a tiny bit of panic in his voice.
I pushed myself up. “It’s just me, Score…” I twisted my fingers together awkwardly, staring at the floor, “Sorry, the door was open, and I know I’m early, but…”
He raced down the steps, grabbing my hands. “You— you heard me?” He stared into my eyes, looking slightly worried.
I smiled, hoping to reassure him. “Yeah, I did. You’re amazing.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled me into him, giving me a tight hug. Then he laughed. “Thanks. You’re the first one to compliment me on my singing,” he said with a lopsided grin. His eyes clouded over for just a moment to a blue-gray before he added, “Almost.”
My heart began to beat in my ears loudly, and I had an inkling that perhaps he’d made the same mistake I had, once upon a time. Maybe he did have an answer to the problem. I bit into my cheek, suddenly nervous, knowing I had to ask.
“I’m not quite—” he said quickly, “I mean, I need to put my guitar away, maybe change clothes, or—”
“You look good,” I said casually, distracted.
We climbed the stairs to his room. I sat down hard on his bed, gripping the comforter in my hands tightly. “Marin will probably be late,” I said. “She’s still trying on outfits.”
“You look fantastic, Lyra,” he said softly, grabbing his guitar and snapping it back in the case. He replaced it in the corner of his room.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling awkward. “Score— your playing…”
“Yeah?”
“I… I loved hearing you,” I told him. It felt inadequate though, not a grand enough statement to convey how it’d made me feel.
“Well, I love playing,” he said thoughtfully. “Did you understand it?”
I shook my head, “No. Was that siren-language?”
“It was.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, staring at the floor. “I don’t know what you were saying, but so much emotion…”
“Mm,” he agreed, looking away from me.
I bolstered my courage, peeking over to him, “Score?”
“Yes, Lyra?”
“Have you ever— have you ever sang for anyone else before?”
His eyes went dark for a long moment, turning that blue-gray color again. It was enough of an answer for me, but I still waited politely to hear him say it.
“Once,” he answered quietly.
My hand crawled over to his, and I wove it through his fingers. A lump had formed in my throat, but this conversation was overdue, especially if there was any possibility he could help me.
I took a deep breath, and it entered my body raggedly, giving a sharp whistle to the inhale. I couldn’t look at him when I said it, so I stared at the floor, forcing the words out. “Me, too. Once.”
In my peripherals, I saw his head snap over to me, his eyes widening and shifting colors, forest green with gray blue and murky purple smatterings in them.
“Lyra…” he said in an empathetic voice.
Suddenly I was crying, my hands in tight fists, leaning against him and sobbing hard into his chest. The guilt had come crashing on me like a card house tumbling down. I hated everything I was down to my core, and wished for the millionth time that I could undo it all.
Score let me cry into him, his arms lightly enfolding me. He rubbed my back and stroked my hair to soothe me. I wasn’t convinced that I could possibly be soothed. Eventually, the tears stopped coming. My stomach muscles ached from the sobs and my nose ran. My eyes were wet, probably puffy.
Score offered me a tissue, and I pulled away from him, wiping away the tears and snot. A pang of embarrassment struck me for falling to pieces in front of him.
He let me collect myself before asking gently, “Do you want to talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t.”
I didn’t want to, but I needed answers. I wiped at my eyes, crumpling the tissue. I took a deep breath, “Do you know of any way to fix it?”
He went rigid next to me, his mouth a small line. “The person… they’re alive?”
My stomach tumbled over and over, and I felt dizzy as I forced myself to look at him. “What— what happened with…?”
Score looked petrified. His gaze was fixed towards the wall. His eyes shifted to orange, blue-gray, and a hundred other magical colors that weren’t as pretty as the happier ones I’d seen so many other times.
He picked up the compass he’d used to find me, turning it over and over in his hands, like the weight comforted him, before he finally answered. “Before I turned, I had a huge crush on this girl. She was everything I thought I wanted— beautiful, popular…” He glanced at me, his face flushing a little. “I’m not proud of this, but there was a time that I went through a lot of girls—”
I blanched, pulling away. “You forced them?”
His eyes were panicked, but piercing blue. “No! Absolutely not, Lyra!” He shook his head, frowning. “I always made sure my voice wasn’t manipulating them into being with me. But honestly—” He stared directly into my eyes, “I know I’m handsome as surely as you know you’re beautiful. Do you think it’s difficult for me?”
I blushed, my heart pounding loudly in my ears, wondering what this had to do with anything. The conversation was uncomfortable, but as necessary as setting a broken bone. He was waiting for a response, so I took a deep breath. “Okay. I understand.” I didn’t really, but I could at least believe he didn’t deceive anyone.
He shifted, still looking distraught, continuing on, “She was the first girl I was with, the fi
rst one I dated.” His mouth tugged down, looking at me. “I used to dote on her. I liked doing things for her, making her happy.” He stroked his chin, leaning forward. “One day, I decided to give her the best gift I could think of, to let her hear me sing.”
My stomach dropped. It sounded innocent when he put it that way. “But, Score, didn’t your letter say anything about it?”
He laughed bitterly, “It told me there would be consequences, but I just thought—” He snorted, staring at the floor. “I was stupid. I thought the consequences would be she’d—” he shook his head, “she’d love me, that’s all. I thought that was what I wanted.”
In the end, he was more innocent than I was. Consequences can be good or bad, after all, but I was told it would doom my foster parents, and I did it anyway. I bit my lip, my hand trembling. I reached up, cupping his face in my palm, “What happened?”
His eyes closed, and he took a sharp breath before continuing, “At first, she told me it was beautiful. Then she asked me to play again and… I refused. She just thanked me, stood up, this eerie smile on her face, and ran out—” his voice cracked. “Ran out into the road, was hit by a truck… the paramedics said she was dead before she hit the ground.”
I gasped, my hand flying up to my mouth in spite of my effort to keep my face neutral. I didn’t want him to think I was judging him— I had no right, certainly— but I was horrified that she’d died from the compulsion.
“After that, I… I just tried to cope, I guess. Get lost in distractions…” He stared straight ahead with furrowed brows, the heartbreak of his deepest regret coloring his eyes a sad blue-gray.
I buried my face in his chest, and he looped his arms around me. Comforting me or seeking comfort, I didn’t know. Maybe we were helping each other. We sat there for a long while. I glanced at his bedside clock and swiped at my eyes. “Marin and Cody are probably waiting for us…”
“They can wait a little longer,” he said quietly.
I pulled back from him, knotting my fingers together. “So there’s no way to take it back, then?” I asked.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair, looking at me with blue eyes. “I don’t know. Not that I’ve been told…” His face was compassionate, “Who did you sing for?”
I tried to be methodical about my answer, to make it easier. I was tired of crying, so I just slowly said, “I’ve lived in Whitecrest for three and a half years, now. That’s a long time to be in foster care with one family, I know, but the couple I was with—” My breath hitched. “They were pretty amazing.” I hadn’t managed to stop myself from crying. My voice was steady, but the tears fell anyway. “When I turned, the day I turned, I sang for them. And I shouldn’t have, because I was told that it would doom them, told that it was a bad idea, but I felt like I needed to know for sure what was happening and—” I sighed, “and it confirmed it. I’m a monster.”
He clasped my hands tightly in his. “You aren’t, Lyra. You made a mistake. That’s all.”
I shook my head, laughing hollowly. “I am. I tried my best to fix it, to do damage control, but it completely broke their minds apart.” I looked into his eyes, “So I told them to sleep, and they did. They are. They have been. They’re comatose, now… I don’t even know which hospital took them.”
He pulled me to him, gripping me hard, whispering, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again. It didn’t matter, didn’t change my opinion of myself. I was a monster. “That’s why you’re so reluctant,” he said softly, “to play, to sing?”
I nodded, “I won’t do it again, Score. The only time I have, that’s what happened.”
He looked pensive for a long moment, his eyes shifting with his thoughts before he finally said, “I’m sorry that happened to you. But you’re not a monster.”
I didn’t believe him, but it was kind of him to say. I frowned, feeling even less inclined to go on this date now, less willing to pretend to be something I’m not.
“Maybe I should just call Marin and tell her I’m sick, or you’re sick or—”
Score cut me off, squeezing my hand, “No. We should go. It’s a good opportunity for you to learn to control yourself, control your voice.”
My stomach ached at the thought. After this conversation, he really thought I was fit to be around human beings? My brows furrowed, and I glanced up at him, “Score…” I said, nearly flinching. It came out a whine. “I told you before I didn’t want to— and you know now, you know why and—”
He closed his eyes, holding my hands tightly and squeezing them, reassuring me. “Lyra, I push you because I— care for you. You need to learn to do this.” He opened his eyes. They were gentle, soft pink. He smiled. “It will be fine,” he soothed. “I’ll lead you through every step. If you have trouble, I can fix it for you. I’ve had a lot of practice.”
I felt like I was going to throw up, my stomach tossing around in my gut. If I could be doing anything, I’d just lie here with Score, curled up on his comfortable bed, his arm wrapped around me. Maybe then I could forget, at least for a while, what I’d done to my foster parents.
Even Score’s company right now was barely helping my mood.
I stood, knowing it was pointless to try to argue, that between Marin’s inevitable pleas and his insistence, I’d eventually fold. I stretched out. “Fine. Maybe it’ll be over quickly,” I muttered.
He stood next to me, running his fingers through my hair, smiling lightly. “It won’t be as bad as you think.”
I would find out.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Double Date
I tapped out a quick message to Marin, letting her know we were on our way. I felt nervous. Score kept trying to reassure me. I darted into his bathroom and splashed water on my face. I didn’t want my eyes to look puffy, giving away that I’d been crying for the past twenty minutes.
“You look great,” he said, smiling as I emerged a few moments later, my hands twisting together anxiously. He’d replaced the brown contacts over his eyes. My heart sank at the thought of his emotions being concealed from me.
I sighed. “So how do you do it?” I asked.
“Well… you just have to focus on it, that’s all. I’m sure you know that by default, people just… gravitate to you?”
I nodded, painfully aware of it. Even though my classmates had been told to ignore me, and they had, I could still see it in their eyes, feel it in the air buzzing around me like flies. They may not have approached me, but they all still wanted to talk to me. It hadn’t really improved until Score had spoken with them after his party, nullifying whatever magic I’d used to captivate them.
“So you shift your intention, make sure that it’s clear. You’ll be able to hear it, the change in inflections. Just focus on wanting their natural, true reaction, and you’ll have it. Easy.”
I raised my brows skeptically. We descended the loft stairs hand in hand, exiting through his front door. He locked it, then clicked his keys. The lights on his car flashed, unlocking it. I slid into the vehicle, folding my arms across my chest, staring out the window. The weather hadn’t improved since being inside. It was drizzling, but falling faster every second.
“What are we even doing tonight?” I asked him curiously.
Score shrugged. “I told Cody I was up for anything that didn’t involve music. I hope he actually follows that…”
I nodded in agreement. Being trapped someplace, pretending to be human and listening to human music… ugh.
We were meeting them in the tiny downtown section of Whitecrest. Score parked on one of the side streets, in an unavoidable puddle the size of Puget Sound. Marin was standing with her arm linked in Cody’s beneath the streetlight. She’d decided on the white sun dress after all. He held an umbrella above them. I wondered if it would buckle under the falling water— the rain had turned worse than I’d ever seen it.
“Sarah!” she yelled, spotting me through the downpour. She waved her arm frantically.
I
sighed, wrapping my arms around myself. I wished I’d been smart enough to bring a coat. I shivered.
Score seamlessly draped his own jacket over me, and I glanced up at him gratefully. His mouth twitched.
I’d almost forgotten our ruse. Score was acting like we’d been dating for the past couple weeks, playing the part of my boyfriend. My heart sped up, and I pulled the jacket around me, closing my eyes and inhaling. On the other hand, maybe if given the chance, Score and I could become something more than just friends…
We were standing there in the rain, two feet away from Cody and Marin. The water was dripping down Score’s face and into his eyes, and he laughed. “So what’s the plan?”
Marin crinkled her nose. “To get out of this lake, for one.” She glanced at me slyly and gave me a look that implied she knew what had delayed us.
I flushed. She was so wrong, but I couldn’t tell her otherwise without inviting unwelcome questions.
I was keeping silent for now, twisting my hands around the cuffs of Score’s coat, not looking forward to actually interacting with Cody.
“I have a fake ID,” Cody announced. “So I say we grab a few beers.”
I frowned. That sounded even more terrible, somehow.
Score wrapped an arm around me. “Why don’t we start with some dinner? I haven’t eaten yet.”
I was grateful for the suggestion, and we slipped into one of the restaurants along the main drag, the most expensive one. Cody looked a little apprehensive about entering, and I had to smile. I had no doubt Marin would expect him to foot her share of the bill— not because she couldn’t afford it, but on principle.
It was dimly lit, and there was soft human music coming from a sound system somewhere. I cringed.
Score leaned over, pulling the wet coat from my shoulders and whispered into my ear, “Now would be a great chance to ask someone to please turn off that offensive noise.”
I sighed. He was apparently serious about these lessons. I addressed the hostess, “Excuse me, is there any way you could turn the music off?”
Her eyes glazed over, and she nodded, “Of course.” She left the stand. After a few moments, the sound was silenced abruptly. My shoulders relaxed.
Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) Page 24