So, Rachel Loughlin had tried to convince Ben’s mother to get rid of him too, but in an even more horrible way? Interesting. Rachel must have started using the abortion angle fairly soon after Rita’s time, Ben was only five years younger than him.
Zellie didn’t even try to be indignant on behalf of her own grandma. She must sense that what Ben was telling her was the truth. Melody, on the other hand, told Ben to shut his pie hole. Christopher had always preferred her to her sister. She had more guts and way better fashion sense.
He scooted over to the edge of his seat. They’d all been conversing at a reasonable volume when talking about The Society’s policy on children, but now had grown quieter again. Zellie was speaking.
“So, do you think that everyone’s rewinds have stopped?” she asked of Ben, presumably.
“No. As far as I can tell, it’s just you and me. I’ve checked in with Retros who know about me and they’re all still getting visions and rewinding, I’m just not picking them up anymore.”
“Until the one this morning.”
“Yeah. Like I said though, I’ve never had a vision that was painful before.” He took a noisy slurp from his drink. “And also, I’m not completely convinced that we had the same vision. They were similar, but I saw the fire and you only felt it.”
“Couldn’t that be a side effect of what is happening to us though?”
It was. Christopher’s ultimate goal had been to only give them enough information through their shared vision to lead them into his trap, but Ben’s abilities were more attuned to the sharing and it was more of a challenge to control what he saw. No matter. They’d shared what they’d seen and were heading down the path he wanted them to go. It wasn’t easy trying to make two teenagers do something that wasn’t their idea. Wes reminded him of that constantly, having died and remained seventeen, while Christopher aged.
He and Wes definitely didn’t have a conventional relationship to begin with, but when they’d attached at least they had been the same age. Now, at almost twenty-four-years-old, the attachment with Wes was becoming more complicated than he liked. He was stuck with a lover he couldn’t touch, couldn’t talk to in public. They had a future together only because they were stuck with one another.
Finally free from parental persecution, Christopher had tried to convince Wes that he should at a minimum be able to date a living, breathing man. He wasn’t a monk for God’s sake. But Wes had refused, grown angry, and made so much constant noise that Christopher hadn’t been able to sleep for days. No, their relationship wasn’t a conventional or even often enjoyable one, but they needed each other. Without Christopher, Wes would be stuck in the chapel in Utah for eternity. Without Wes, Christopher wouldn’t have a reliable connection to the spirit world, a connection that had told him who he really was and what he was capable of.
The waitress came around and left the bill for his coffee and pie on the table. As she approached Zellie’s table, the group ceased talking about anything important. After they’d all divvied up who’d had what and settled the bill, he heard Zellie and Ben set up a meeting with each other for late the next morning - the late request being Ben’s of course. Christopher couldn’t argue that the boy’s beauty sleep did serve him well. Wes may be able to prevent him from dating, but he couldn’t do anything about who he looked at.
He finished his coffee and laid a few bucks on the table, waiting for Zellie’s group to leave.
“Hey, Pastor Morris,” Melody Wells said to him. “Did you play hooky and go to the mountain today?”
Christopher cleared his throat. How long had she known it was him sitting in this booth eavesdropping? “Hi, Mel,” he said, flashing his most charming smile, “I’m actually headed up the mountain for a little nighttime snowboarding.”
“Cool,” she replied, her mouth smiling but her eyes sending a different signal. Was that a warning that she was onto him? “You should have come and sat with us, met my new friend Ben and his dad Frank.” She flipped her long blonde hair back off her shoulders. “Anyways, have fun. See ya in church on Sunday.”
“See you Sunday.”
With the group gone, Wes appeared beside him. “Great, nearly two years working side by side with their dad, gaining the trust of their family and now the little Lookout suspects something.” He motioned as if brushing the hair back from Christopher’s face.
Absently, Christopher reached up and pushed the hair back himself. “I suppose that’s the end of casual surveillance,” he muttered into his coat collar.
“I don’t know why you care about hearing all of their stupid gossip first hand anyways. Boo-freakin’-hoo, Zellie and Avery can’t be together. Boo hoo, Ben the super hottie misses his dead mommy. Life’s not all cuddling and trips to Hawaii. You glimpsed this shit two days ago--”
“The glimpses aren’t always one hundred percent, you know that.”
Wes gave him a sly smile. “Sweetie, when was the last time you were wrong?”
The corners of Christopher’s mouth lifted slightly in a grin, hoping he wasn’t giving his uneasiness at the question away. Two days ago. What he’d glimpsed two days ago was not what had happened today. According to what he saw, instead of sitting at the table making plans with Ben, Zellie was supposed to be in the restroom crying her eyes out over Avery.
Chapter Eight
I laid in bed with my eyes closed listening to Melody snore. I could hear her nose whistling with every exhalation. She was getting a cold. Not that her snotty sounds were keeping me up. Replaying the day’s events was. I hadn’t had a day as crazy as this one since the accident last spring that revealed the full extent of my abilities - when I spazzed out and rewound for the first time. And even with all of that excitement and turmoil and craziness, it couldn’t even be compared to today.
A painful shared vision, rewinding a fist fight, almost losing my virginity...seriously God, thanks for the deluge. I tried replaying my steamy truck escapades with Avery in my mind, but it was ruined for me now. The parental “plan” was even going to rob me of my best fantasies? Ugh.
I rolled onto my side, opening my eyes, staring blankly at the wall. I wondered if it was ruined for Avery? God, if I could just...communicate with him somehow. What was the use in having supernatural gifts if they all totally frickin’ blew? I could see what he was dreaming, it wasn’t like I could talk to him while I was there in his head, but it was a way to be close to him. Usually, it felt like an invasion of privacy, but I didn’t have anything else.
Closing my eyes, I concentrated on him asleep in his room, picturing the moonlight coming through his bedroom window, glowing in his silvery-brown hair. I saw him content, breathing slow and steady, as the image crumbled and fell away...
He was dreaming a slanted version of a day at the Lake we’d actually had in early September. Avery and dream me were swimming side by side toward the floating dock thirty feet out from the shore. I was relieved that I was wearing my navy blue one piece and he hadn’t put me in some cheesy hot pink string bikini. The weather was the same as it had been then, hot, dry, and dusty. The kind of day where your body begs to swim. However, in reality, the water in the Lake was freezing cold all year round and only the really brave ever swim to the dock. Most everyone just runs into the water, takes a quick dunk to cool off, and then runs directly back to their towel to warm up again. Avery had wanted to attempt the swim that day, but I’d talked him out of it. In his dreams, though, it seems I’d given in and I was glad I did.
Every few yards, Avery would stop and kiss dream me, pull her close to him, holding them both up while he treaded water, then he’d release her and they’d continue swimming. This happened several times on their way to the dock, until they were nearly there. I longed to feel the cool water caressing my body, his soft mouth on mine. I could...almost. Then, he was swimming ahead of her, pushing himself up out of the water onto the dock. As I watched him turn and look down at the dream me in the water, extending his hand to help her, I was able to see t
he way he saw me. Outside of the dream it took my breath away, making my hollow insides ache for him.
But her, the silly girl in the water, she just giggled and grabbed hold of his hand. Avery took her in his arms, whispering, “I love you,” in her ear. And the dumb butt didn’t say it back! I started to get really pissed at myself, at dream me, squandering all of her Avery time that I couldn’t have. Why wasn’t she telling him she loved him too, maybe more than he loved her? Because I do! I wanted to shout, but he couldn’t hear me.
She smiled at him, moving her hands from around his neck, sliding her palms down his wet chest, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his swim trunks, pushing them off over his hips...
Oh, my God! I opened my eyes and flipped onto my back. Avery’s dream me was a total whore. No wonder he hadn’t been as nervous as I’d been in the truck. Apparently, he was confident that I was going to be good at the whole sex thing if he’d thought about it enough for it to creep into his subconscious. I took a deep breath, trying to clear the shock from my body. Well, at least I had the beginning of a new scenario to fantasize about, to make things go how the less selfish and whore-y me would have them go. I covered my eyes with my hands, blushing at how ludicrous my life could be sometimes. Then I contemplated checking up on Avery’s dream world for just a little bit longer.
Aunt Hazel came by the house at 10:30 to drive me to the Adams’ cabin for my meet up with Ben. She insisted it wasn’t a big pain in the butt to drive down from the lodge to get me and then drive me halfway back up the mountain to the cabin, that it was the kind of thing a Lookout was expected to do. Ah, Aunt Hazel’s brand of familial love, it warmed the cockles of my heart. Dad and Melody had left at 7:45, him to work and her to school. With both Aunt Hazel and Frank around, Dad had insisted that Melody be relieved of her Lookout duties until the weekend. Whatever. It wasn’t like there was anything for her to do anyway.
I was in a super craptastic mood, having gotten about two hours of sleep, and now had nothing to look forward to besides being stuck in the cabin all day with Mom, who I was still pissed off at, Ben, and two kooky old Lookouts. So, when Ben suggested we take a walk over to the stream at the edge of the Adams’ property, I nearly cracked a smile.
“Tough night?” he asked, taking my elbow and leading me around a pointy rock that jutted up in our path. “You look like you didn’t sleep for shit.”
I pulled the hood on my parka over my head. “That’s because I didn’t.”
“Thinking about Avery, or something else?”
He was being awfully nice to me and it wasn’t his fault that my life sucked big time. I attempted to act cordial. “I was thinking about Avery.” I blushed, his dream popping into my head. “About our situation. I just wish I could--”
“Find a way to be together without him dying the way you saw? You are definitely not the first Retroact to wish that.”
“You wanted to stay with your trigger too?” I said, surprised. Ben wasn’t what I thought of as romantic or faithful, that’s for sure.
“Of course I did,” he said, chuckling. “It’s devastating for all of us, not only you and your mom, you know.”
Great, now I felt like a butthole. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply--”
“That I’m an unfeeling man-slut?” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “You remember what my trigger’s name was?”
“Yeah, Connor, whose sister Kiely ‘was kinda hot too’ if I remember your exact words,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t know where I would get the impression you were an ‘unfeeling man-slut’ from.”
He smiled. “Ha. Okay, yes, I did say that, but that’s not exactly how it was.”
We’d reached the edge of the stream. I sat on a fallen log that some member of Avery’s family had dragged over years ago. I motioned for Ben to sit down next to me. “Tell me how it was then.”
He sat down, jamming his hands into the pockets of his coat and flipping his hair back out of his eyes. “So she wants to hear the tale of Ben and Connor and ‘kinda hot Kiely,’ does she?”
“Well, when you put it that way--”
“It was the summer before 8th grade,” Ben began. “My friend Drew and I were hanging out at the local public pool, when I spotted 14-year-old Kiely O’Hara in the concession line.” He leaned into me, confidentially, “At this point I’d never even considered liking a guy. I was strictly a ladies man with no hope of inheriting any powers from Mom.
“Anyways, so I saunter on over to Kiely and offer to buy her a Sno-cone. Of course, she’s delighted and invites me to come and sit with her family at a picnic table. As we approach the table I see Connor.” Ben literally sighs like he’s a twelve-year-old girl. “I’m not kidding you. The guy was a fucking 16-year-old Adonis. His thick black hair was all slicked back from swimming, drops of water still clinging to his chest. I was instantly attracted to him and lucky I had a towel with me because I totally popped wood.”
I shook my head. “Dude, ick. This is not a very romantic story.”
He snorted. “Yeah, and getting caught giving your boyfriend a handjob in his truck is?”
My face flamed all the way to the tips of my ears. “That’s not--” Ben raised one eyebrow at me. “Point taken. Please continue.”
“As I was saying, I was instantly attracted to him and although it had never occurred to me to even think about liking a boy before, I didn’t suffer from any of the fears that usually accompany that revelation. Even though I was fourteen and a virgin, I knew I wanted him.”
“And he wanted you back?” Ben was definitely good looking now, but what was he like at fourteen? That was Melody’s age, and to be so sure of yourself? I could never.
“Of course he wanted me back, that’s how it works with triggers. Sure, maybe normally he wouldn’t have gone for someone two years younger and a guy, because he hadn’t come out to his family yet, but it was meant to be.”
I understood that feeling. Avery was several rungs on the popularity ladder higher than I was and normally wouldn’t have looked at me twice. However, since he was my trigger he wanted me like I wanted him. It used to make me feel paranoid and insecure, but at some point I made myself get over it and accept that “meant to be” was only part of why he was with me. “So, how’d you ditch Kiely and hook up with Connor?”
“Well, I didn’t. Unfortunately, I needed Kiely to get me access to Connor, so we dated for a few months.”
I winced. “And for how many of those months were you also dating Connor?”
Ben gave me an indignant look. “They only overlapped for two days.”
“Oh, nice,” I snorted. “Can you get to the part of the story that’s going to help me feel better about Avery because hearing about you popping wood and dating siblings isn’t doing me any good.”
He swatted my arm. “Okaaaaaay. Jesus.” He settled in, jamming his hands back in his pockets and looking out at the water. “After we’d been just friends for three agonizing months, we were left alone together in their family room watching a movie. Kiely and her parents had gone up to bed. Even though I was exhausted, I knew I finally had a chance to make my move, except Connor made his first.
“We were watching an action movie and when there was a noisy chase sequence, he turned to me all cool like and said, ‘I love you and you’ve got to break up with my sister.’ Then he kissed me...and some other stuff.” Ben actually blushed. If he couldn’t even go into details, it must have been serious.
“When did you get your first vision?” I asked.
“A couple days later when he was walking me home from his house after I broke up with Kiely.” He grinned. “She gave me a black eye and nearly gave Connor one too, but she knew her brother was gay and had spent a lot of his life unhappy because of it, so she settled for punching me the one time.”
I smiled. “She sounds cool.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s great. She’s going to Berkley next year. I glimpse her all the time.”
We sat
in silence for a moment staring out at the water, me not wanting to ask what happened in the vision and Ben obviously not wanting to tell it. Was Connor still alive?
Ben cleared his throat. “Here’s the vision.” He pulled his right hand from the warmth of his coat pocket and grasped mine.
Four men, including a slightly older Ben, maybe 26, 27, sat outside a restaurant at a table bordering the sidewalk. They were in a city. There was a lot of traffic in the street and crowds of people walking by. They were laughing about something funny one of them had said. A beautiful black haired man with sparkling green eyes, who had to be Connor, put his arm around Ben’s shoulders and pulled him to him, kissing his temple.
“Do you mind?” An old white guy wearing a hideous palm tree printed shirt said to them, “I’m trying to eat.” He picked up his large glass of beer, slugged it down, and then pushed the empty glass across the table from him where four other empties sat.
Ben turned to the man, fury in his eyes, as Connor’s grip tightened around his shoulders, and said, “It’s gonna be real hard for you to continue eating if I shove that fork down your throat, asshole. Don’t look at us if we offend you.”
The man glared at Ben, pushing back from his table, his face reddening from his collar to his receding hairline.
Ben jumped up, challenging him. “It might be a good idea for you to stay out of this neighborhood in general, come to think of it. Bigots aren’t welcome here.”
“Why you sonofabitch, no dumbass pretty boy faggot is going to threaten me,” the man said. He staggered forward a step and then reached back behind him, grabbing the steak knife off of his plate.
“Whoa!” yelled Connor. He stood up and got between Ben and the man. “This is getting way outta hand.” He placed his hand on Ben’s chest and gently pushed him away from the drunk guy. “Why don’t we all sit down and finish our food and pleasantly ignore each other.” He turned to the man, with a firm but polite authoritative expression on his face. “Sir, there’s no need to be brandishing a steak knife at my husband. Can you please sit down?”
Zellie Wells Trilogy Page 22