Enter If You Dare

by Alyson Larrabee

  He remains a model of self-control. But when he looks my way, even for an instant, his electric glances remind me he’s in awe of this whole experience. I’m seeing the world through the eyes of a boy who was deprived, during his own brief and tragic life, of everything I take for granted every day. When I think about Anthony, even the air feels new on my skin.

  He’s awakening all my senses and I feel like a newborn in a teenager’s body. When our eyes meet, we’re born again together; the mute, neglected child who raged at the world around him and the girl who offered him love and true friendship.

  After History, we have to separate and follow our individual schedules until noon. Later, Anthony and I meet at Wyatt’s locker before lunch and walk into the cafeteria together. When he bites into the school lunch pizza, which is pretty good for cafeteria food, I stare at his face and feel like I’m tasting pizza for the first time. The stretchy cheese tastes salty, the tomato sauce tangy with just the right hint of sweetness and the crust is like fresh-baked, homemade bread, crunchy on the outside, warm and soft and chewy on the inside—delicious. He chews, swallows and takes another bite. I’ve never experienced anything so precious with another person before and it feels phenomenal.

  I cover his hand with mine and tell him, “Wait until you try the cookies. They’re my favorite.”

  I want to show him the world, to introduce him to life. I never want this day to end, mostly because I know he doesn’t either. To hell with Mike Donahue, even thinking about him can’t ruin today for Anthony and me.

  He rests his forehead against mine and we stare into each other’s eyes and chuckle softly. Both of us are reluctant to end the physical contact, but we know our unseen connection can never end. That’s something Anthony has proven to everyone who’s met him since his soul escaped from the hospital.

  Just by being here, he’s answering a question which has burned in the minds of humans for centuries, down through the tunnels of time and inside the castles built above those tunnels by the collective imaginations of millions of us.

  Yes, Annabelle, there is life after death: life and love and all the confusion and elation one soul can feel. It doesn’t matter whether you welcome it or dread it; it’s a fact.

  He never says these words out loud to me, but I hear them nonetheless and their eloquence stuns me, moves me and pleases me like no other gift I’ve ever received. And in this moment Anthony and I both know it.

  I’m giving him affection, sympathy, companionship, communication: all of the essential things that were tragically missing during his brief and miserable time on earth. He’s giving me a glimpse into one small part of the afterlife which awaits us all and even though there’s a lot more to it than he can show me right now, he assures me that an afterlife does exist despite countless and ancient debates. I’ll live on after my body deteriorates into dust and so will everyone I love and care about.

  But we can’t forget that without Wyatt, Anthony wouldn’t be walking around in our world right now, as a free man, breathing and touching and tasting commonplace things as if they were miracles sent to us by the gods. Whoever would think of the school’s lunchroom pizza as an amazing sensual experience?

  Anthony tucks our books under one arm and then interlocks the fingers on his free hand with mine. Palm-to-palm, we walk out of the cafeteria, up the stairs to my English class. At the door of the classroom, he lets go of my hand and as I turn to walk into English, he whacks me on the butt.

  I spin around and glare at him. “That’s not cool.”

  “I know, but I had to. I might never get another chance. There it was, right in front of me, at hand level. Sorry, it won’t happen again.” He covers his mouth with one hand; probably so I won’t realize he’s grinning. But one side of his smile peeks out, despite his efforts to hide it. “Plus, it’s the best butt in the whole school. Just ask the golf team.”

  “I’ll see you after school at my locker. And keep those hands to yourself.”

  “I will. I promise.” He tries to look sorry and serious, but fails.

  “And stay away from the golf team. They’re obviously a bad influence.” I back into the classroom, frowning up at him the whole way until he turns and hustles off toward Wyatt’s AP Biology class.

  “Always with the boyfriend troubles, Miss Blake. I don’t know how you manage such an impressive academic performance every term,” Ms. Coffman teases.

  “It’s cuz I’m always thinking about stuff like Hamlet; wondering if he’s going to make up his mind to be or not to be within the next five centuries.”

  “Did you finish memorizing the soliloquy?”

  “Yes, I did, British accent and all, mum. Alas, is poor Yorick ready? Because, you know, I knew him, Horatio.” I do my best to sound like Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth: the Golden Age, but I sound more like Bruce, the shark in Finding Nemo.

  Ms. Coffman cracks up. “That accent needs a lot more work, Annabelle. You sound more like the Crocodile Hunter than Hamlet.” Ms. Coffman’s a tough grader, but she appreciates my ability to make an idiot out of myself with very little effort.

  Because my last name is at the beginning of the alphabet, I get called up first to recite. Fortunately, I worked hard to memorize the “To be or not to be” speech in between all the dramatic episodes of my own life. And even though my accent comes from down under and not from anywhere near Stratford-on-Avon, I speak with sincere anguish to that plastic skull and don’t forget one word. She gives me an A plus. The A is for knowing the whole speech cold and the plus is for making her laugh so hard she almost peed, because my accent sounded ridiculous.

  After school, on my way to cross-country practice, I walk up to Wyatt’s locker and Anthony’s leaning against it, crunching Doritos out of a bright blue bag, a delirious smile on his shadowy face.

  “Look at this chip, Annabelle! It has so much good-tasting powdery stuff on it. What a bonus!” He pops the corn chip into his mouth and bites down.

  After about a minute of crunching and swallowing, he licks his lips. “Mmmmm. Here, do you want one?”

  He tips the open bag toward me.

  “No thanks, if I eat anything too close to when I go running, I’ll throw up. You might, too. Watch how many of those you woof down.”

  “It’ll be worth it. These are great.” He chomps down a couple more chips, tips the bag up and spills the crumbs from the bottom directly into his mouth. Then he smooshes up the empty bag and throws it into Wyatt’s open locker where it will probably attract mice. Reaching into the locker, he pulls out a red Gatorade, twists it open, chugs down a few swigs and passes it to me. I drink half of it in three fast gulps and hand it back.

  “Hey, slow down! That’s mine!”

  I laugh and hiccup. “I left you a little.”

  “Your lips are all red.” He wipes his thumb across my lips and grins. “Do you know what was the best thing about today, besides being with you?”

  “No idea. What was the best thing?”

  “Geometry.”

  “I hate Geometry. If my dad hadn’t helped me, when I was in ninth grade, I would’ve failed it. Even with his help I got a C for the year.”

  Wyatt actually takes AP Calculus for his real Math class. But for his Community Service requirement, he helps out the teacher in a freshman Geometry class. He’s that good at math. Anthony obviously shares Wyatt’s talent for math, probably because he’s sharing Wyatt’s brain at the moment.

  “How can you hate Geometry? It’s so beautiful. It clarifies everything. I love it.”

  Not even Wyatt feels Anthony’s reverence for the subject.

  “How can you love it? It’s boring. And how can it clarify anything? It’s confusing.”

  “Annabelle, geometry is the most logical thing on earth. But instead of words, it’s shapes. Every physical object can be defined with shapes and lines and their relationships to each other. Everything in the visible world is made up of these shapes and lines. It’s logic that you can see. And it’s incredib
le to look at and think about.”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way before. My dad’s good at geometry because he’s a builder. It makes so much sense now.” How can I be learning so much from Anthony when everything’s all new to him? “I can’t believe it. I’m having a conversation about math and I’m not bored to death.”

  Anthony grins and he looks so beautiful when he smiles that I want to stay with him and keep talking, but we can’t. I take out my cell phone and check the time. “You’ll be late for practice and you’ll get yelled at.”

  “You’ll miss the bus to Town Forest,” he warns.

  “Whoa!” I spin around and head down the corridor, toward the exit to the parking lot.

  “’Bye, Annabelle. Thanks for everything!” he yells out.

  I know what he means. Everything from Geometry to pizza.

  Soon he’ll have to leave Wyatt’s body and his day here on Earth will be over.

  Mike Donahue hasn’t come near us. I’m safe and Anthony’s big chance to be a regular high school student is just about done, but he remembered to say “thank you.” I turn around. He’s standing by the open door; watching me. Running backwards across the parking lot, I wave to him. He lifts his hand and smiles.

  Then I turn and climb into the waiting bus. I feel so grateful to have been a part of his experience. I’m the one who should be thanking him.

  My feelings for Anthony grow wings that lift me up and send me soaring high, past the roofs of the nearby houses and above the telephone poles with the singing wires stretched between them in the dazzling sunlight of this perfect, clear-skied afternoon. In my imagination I soar up, above the tree tops and then the clouds, into the endless blue of the sky and beyond, where Anthony will find me one day and keep me close to him forever.

  Chapter 30

  Anthony and Wyatt

  The rest of the week passes by uneventfully. Mike Donahue doesn’t make any more attempts on my life, or any threats against it. Wyatt recuperated quickly from his out-of-body experience, but the whole thing has left me feeling weird and unsettled. We end up spending time together midweek which is unusual, but Wyatt, Anthony and I are growing more and more inseparable. Dangerous circumstances have drawn us together into a quivering huddle and we give each other strength.

  “My grip’s weakening. It weakens every time I let him in.” Wyatt sounds worried, despite the warmth and coziness of our surroundings.

  Oliver and Jackson went out to dinner so just Wyatt and I are sitting on the couch in his living room. In the fireplace tall flames char the native fieldstones and the thick logs are disintegrating fast. Wyatt gets up to feed the fire periodically. As I snuggle deeper into his embrace I feel the heat and strength of his arms and my mood grows soft and sweet, like a fresh-baked cookie.

  We’re supposed to be studying for a History test, but Wyatt turned the lights off which makes it difficult to do schoolwork. Through a haze of cozy feelings, my brain finally engages and I find my voice. “What grip? Are you talking about Anthony?”

  He caught me by surprise. I thought he wanted to make out, but now he’s starting a serious conversation.

  “Yes. Anthony. Every time I let him in, he grows more powerful and I grow weaker. It’s scary. I asked Nathaniel and we had a long talk. He said he’s never experienced anything like it.”

  “You talked about channeling? With Nathaniel?” I’m having trouble focusing on our conversation. I rub my palm over his chest and feel his muscles through his t-shirt. His hand closes around my wrist and he holds my hand over his heart. It’s beating slow and strong.

  “Mmmmm.” He smiles and kisses the top of my head. “Your hair’s so sparkly in the firelight; I can practically see my reflection. And what’s that smell? It’s not strong enough to be perfume. Is it your shampoo?”

  “It’s a rinse my mother makes from rainwater, flowers and herbs. I can’t be more specific because it’s a secret. You have to dunk your hair in a bucket of the icy cold liquid and hold it in there until your scalp tingles. Then your hair comes out all shiny. My mom invented the concoction. You’ll never smell another girl’s hair that will smell like mine.”

  “I’ll never smell another girl’s hair.”

  He’s the sweetest guy ever.

  Wyatt buries his face in my hair and breathes in deep. “Pine forest and a whole meadow full of wild flowers.”

  This isn’t far from the truth. Rosemary’s an evergreen and lavender and chamomile are flowers; those are some of my mother’s secret ingredients.

  “I love you, Annabelle.”

  Whoa. This conversation’s taking a really serious turn.

  Now I’m focused. The last time a boy said that to me he was lying. I stare into Wyatt’s eyes and see the truth. I also see a question. Do I love him, too?

  “I love you, too, Wyatt.” It’s out there now. I can’t take it back.

  “I’ve always loved you, Annabelle. Before I met you I loved you. I don’t just love you; I know you. I knew you. I recognized you the second I looked into your beautiful, mismatched eyes, even though I’d never seen you before.”

  “You’ve never mentioned that about my eyes. I thought maybe you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I noticed them first before I even looked at the rest of you. One’s darker than the other. And they’re green and brown, like a forest. You’ve had those eyes for centuries. Woodland eyes. When I look into them I can see the past, the present and the future. Together, long ago, you and I created this civilization. We live in it now and in the years to come, we’ll inherit it from ourselves. You and me, Annabelle. We’re different from the others.”

  Removing his arms from around me, he sinks both hands into my hair and gently holds my head, tilting it up as he lowers his mouth to mine. He deepens the kiss and a low murmur rumbles deep in his throat, like purring. We lie down, stretched out beside each other on the couch. Feeling his warmth everywhere, I press up against him, as I kiss him back. His hands move all over me, trailing delicious warmth everywhere they go. I’ve never kissed anyone like I’m kissing him right now. I can’t seem to get close enough to Wyatt; from my lips down to my toes. Then he shifts his whole body until it’s on top of mine and his weight sinks me down into the soft couch cushions.

  He whispers, “Let’s go up to my room.”

  Panicking, I pull my hands away from the back of his neck then push against his shoulders. Prying my mouth away from his, I heave him off me. He blinks and shakes his head. When I sit up, he sits up, too.

  “C’mon, Annabelle.” He moves in to kiss me again and when our lips connect, he nudges me down onto my back.

  His lips move from my mouth to my neck where they make my whole body tingle even though they’re only touching one small place under my ear. I push him away again and pop up into a sitting position. He gives up.

  “Annabelle, Annabelle, Annabelle, how long have we been going out now?”

  “Officially, not even two months. Not long enough.”

  “But I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

  “You have, in a way. But here, in Eastfield, in high school, it hasn’t even been two months.”

  “Annabelle, I feel like I’ve waited forever for you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “To fall in love. I’ve never even had a girlfriend before.”

  “No way. You’re eighteen, Wyatt. Lots of girls here in Eastfield think you’re hot.”

  “I’ve had opportunities. But I always knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “I always knew that if I waited long enough, someone who was worth waiting for would come along. I trusted that feeling and I was right. I fell in love the second I saw you. Hell bent, running to class so you wouldn’t be late, with your hair dripping down your back. Your books and stuff falling all over the place. I thought to myself, ‘That’s the girl I’ve been waiting for.’”

  “Still, it happened only two months ago. I need more time.”
/>   “What would I do without you to bring me back to reality?”

  “You know what you’d do and I know what you’d do, but I’m not going to say it.” My face grows redder and it’s not just from the heat of the fire. “Besides, I always worry that Anthony’s going to jump in and take over when we’re making out.”

  “Anthony and I have an agreement.”

  “What kind of agreement?”

  “Like college roommates, you know, in a dormitory. I saw it in a movie once. If one roommate’s with a girl, in their dorm room, he hangs a sock on the doorknob, on the outside of the door. Then the other roommate knows not to come in. Kind of like a do-not-disturb sign. If you and I are making out, Anthony has agreed to give us some privacy.”

  “I don’t have to worry?”

  “Nope. He won’t take over. It’s all good. It’s just you and me and the fire, here tonight in this room. So, come on, Annabelle. I’ve waited a long time for you. I love you. Relax.” He puts his arms around me and tries to nudge me back down again, but I refuse even though I want to.

  “There are too many serious things to talk about and if we’re kissing it’s too distracting. You were saying earlier that your grip’s weakening and Anthony’s getting stronger. That doesn’t fit with the whole sock thing.”

  I scoot down the couch on the seat of my jeans, putting a couple of feet between us and move a pillow from the corner of the couch to the middle of it, creating a physical boundary.

  Wyatt shakes his hair out of his eyes and then continues. “It’s true. Anthony gets stronger and I feel drained every time we switch places. The last time was too long. Thanks to Nathaniel and much to Oliver’s horror, I ate practically a whole cow’s worth of cheeseburgers. Nathaniel cooked them on the grill at his house and brought them over. He kept me awake to make me eat. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. You should try his burgers. He’s a great cook. After I ate I slept for sixteen hours straight.”