by Edie Claire
I was content to let him think that.
"Well, what can I say?" I said lightly. "Frederick High knows how to show a girl an exciting time."
Matt’s blue eyes twinkled at me. Feeling a twinge of unease, I looked away. "I can’t believe how tame the waves are tonight," I commented. "I guess it’s like this most of the summer, though."
Matt shrugged. "The North Shore goes pretty flat, yeah. I’ve seen it a lot flatter than this."
I saw Zane, then. He was far away, body surfing on the open ocean, his khaki board shorts barely visible in the moonlight. By his standards, the waves were offering no more than a gentle float. But he would rather be there than here.
Matt put his arms around me. He turned me toward him, raising my chin to look up at his face. "I’ve never met anybody like you, Kali," he said softly. "I can’t wait till you move here for good."
I felt myself seized with a sudden, uncharacteristic panic. I didn’t want him to kiss me, and I didn’t know why. Had I had not just asked him for a night walk on the beach, knowing perfectly well what that implied?
"I’m looking forward to it myself, now," I answered quickly, keeping my own tone light. "I just wish my friends in Cheyenne could come with me, you know?"
"Are they military?" he asked. It occurred to me that he knew nothing of Tara and Kylee yet. Though I had told them plenty about him.
"No," I answered. "Kylee’s stepdad has a civilian job on the base. Tara’s parents are cops."
"Hmm," he sympathized. "No convenient transfers, then."
"Afraid not."
I was stalling now, and he seemed to know it. He sighed a little—a gesture that might not have registered on anyone but me—and we began walking down the beach again.
"Did your parents decide how much longer you can stay?" he asked.
I drew a breath. My eyes scanned the ocean for another glimpse of Zane. I could barely see him; he had drifted even farther away. "Not yet," I answered, unable to keep a tinge of sadness out of my voice. "My mom said they have a few more houses to look at tomorrow. I’m almost hoping they can’t make up their minds."
Matt smiled. "Well, as long as you’re around for the weekend, maybe we could get together again? My mom was talking about having your parents over to dinner. But even if they don’t work that out, we could still squeeze in another hit of kalua pig somewhere—if you want."
I smiled back. I did like Matt, a lot. As did most everyone who knew him. The attention he was paying me—particularly given Lacey’s claim that he didn’t fall for girls easily—would have any female over the moon. I liked being with him; I liked holding his hand and dancing in his arms. It seemed natural, comfortable. The whole idea of having a boyfriend was wonderfully exciting.
We had stopped walking again. He raised a hand and pushed a shock of curls from my eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed me.
Chapter 15
It was a very nice kiss. Gentle at first, then growing gradually more intent—but never too demanding. The foam of a breaking wave lapped at our bare ankles. A light breeze whistled around our ears.
He broke away himself, first. With a smile, he took my hand again and led me back up the beach. We didn’t talk—the sounds of the beach seemed too perfect to intrude upon. The subdued rush of the waves, the calmest of winds. Only occasional engine noise from the nearby Kamehameha Highway.
I scanned the ocean’s horizon for a glimpse of Zane. He wasn’t there.
"We’ll set something up for tomorrow," Matt said finally, as we reached my deck again. "I’ll text you. I hope my mother does invite your parents over—it would be fun to show you around the neighborhood. Julia lives three doors down, believe it or not, and Ryan’s only a couple blocks the opposite direction."
"Sounds cozy," I said with a grin. Cheyenne wasn’t a particularly big city, but my friends' houses were pretty spread out. Just one more thing to like about Oahu.
Matt collected his shoes, kissed me once more, said goodnight, and drove off.
I remained, sitting, on the deck. I stared at the sliver of beach that I could see. I wondered what the heck was wrong with me.
The evening—aside from the whole knife-wielding maniac thing—had been picture perfect. I’d never had more fun at a school dance, and that was saying something. I’d never had as romantic an experience, period.
So why was I so freakin’ sad?
"Zane!" I called suddenly, standing up and looking around into the shadows. There was an edge of anger to my voice, and I didn’t understand that either. So he had taken off on me. Was that so terrible? It wasn’t like I even needed a bodyguard anymore.
I wasn’t supposed to need him at all.
I was the one doing the favor, right?
Some job I’d been doing of that. Several times, earlier in the day, I had tried to ask him about what he was remembering, but every time he had changed the subject. Since the dance, I hadn't asked him at all. The entire evening had been about me.
"Zane?" I called again, my voice apologetic.
There was no response.
I let out a breath, slowly. The inside of the house was dark, except for one light in the hallway. My parents had already gone to bed. I might as well do the same.
I turned and put my hand on the knob.
"Yes?"
I whirled to see Zane lounging against the deck railing, looking mellow in jeans and a soft Hawaiian shirt covered with green palm fronds. His expression was inscrutable.
My spirits rose instantly. I reined in what would otherwise have been a goofy smile.
"You’re back," I said stupidly. "I’m glad."
He studied me a moment. "I never went very far."
I took a step toward him. "I didn’t want to leave things between us with what happened at the gas station," I explained. "I know you were only trying to keep me safe. I really do appreciate that."
His eyebrows rose. "I’m not sure you need me or anybody else for that. You do pretty well on your own."
I frowned. His voice wasn’t sulky or bitter, but it was unmistakably melancholy. "Everybody needs somebody watching their back," I protested. "Tonight would have been a disaster without you."
He smiled a little. But only a very little. He shifted his position against the railing. I could see the neighbor’s grill through the left side of his face.
"You don’t need me, Kali," he said softly. "You were brilliant tonight. Really. I’m in awe of the way you read people; your ability to stay cool in a crisis. You knew just what Rod needed to hear, and you weren’t afraid to confront him with it. You’re amazing."
His eyes caught mine—or at least, the solid one did—and my heart began to race. As much as his praise meant to me, I got the feeling he was leading up to something. Something I didn't want to hear.
"Thanks for that," I said quickly. "But don’t tell me you didn’t help. Matt and I would have walked right into Rod back at the school if you hadn’t warned me."
Zane shrugged. "You probably would have sensed where he was when you got closer. Even if you didn't, I doubt he would have confronted Matt with you there."
"Then he would have confronted him after he dropped me off at home," I insisted. "We would have had no idea Rod was following us, and Matt would have walked into an ambush in my driveway. How well would that have gone, do you think?"
Zane stared back at me, and the pain in his expression hit my gut like a fist. After a long moment, he turned his gaze back out toward the sea. Then he said the words I was dreading. "I think it’s wrong for me to stay with you, Kali. You have a normal life—you need to lead it. Whatever’s going on with me, whatever I need to do, I’ll figure it out eventually. But it doesn’t have to be your problem."
My heart pounded harder. The fear that spread through my veins was irrational, nonsensical. Worse than any threat I’d felt from Rod and his knife.
"But I want it to be my problem!" I practically screeched. "I want to help you figure it out. Selfish or not, it’s true!"
>
Zane refused to look at me. He raised a hand and ran it absently through his curls. "And maybe if I weren’t so selfish," he said quietly, "I’d be okay with that. But I can’t do this anymore, Kali. I’m sorry."
"Can’t do what anymore?" I demanded, rapidly losing what was left of my composure. "What do you mean?"
He faced me, his voice calm, but firm. His emerald eyes bore into mine. "I can’t stand by and watch you fall in love with Matt. I just can’t do it. It hurts too much."
My insides trembled. My outsides, too. My legs felt like rubber.
"I know that sounds insane," he continued. "You don’t need to remind me that I’m dead—that I’m of no use to you as a human being, and never will be. I remind myself of that every second. It doesn’t help."
He looked away from me again. He made a poor effort at a smile. "Sorry to freak you out, but I thought I owed you the truth. I didn’t want you to think I’d left you because I didn’t care."
"You can’t leave me!" I protested again, my voice close to breaking. So much for the calm-in-a-crisis thing. My entire body was dissolving into gelatin. "You just can’t. Not yet."
He swung his head back toward me, his expression puzzled. "Why not? Does it really matter? There are plenty of other people you can talk to, hang out with. Live people you can talk to without getting stared at."
I made no response. None of the myriad thoughts racing across my brain made any sense at all.
"I’ve been dependent on you because of your gift," he continued. "But you don’t owe me anything. Especially not when all I’d be doing for you is infecting your happy little romance with a bunch of weird, negative vibes."
"I—"
He tilted his head to hear more, but I had nothing else. The word had escaped of its own accord.
"I’m sorry you’re upset, Kali," he said quietly. "I really didn’t think you would be."
"And I didn’t think—" The words came out on their own again, but this time I knew where I was going with them. "I didn’t think seeing me with another guy would bother you," I finished in a rush. "I thought that… even thinking you might care would be just… well, stupid. And conceited. If I had known I would never have—" Words failed me again. "I’m really sorry."
"You don’t have to be sorry," he answered. "You didn’t do anything wrong."
"Yes, I did," I argued, my voice strengthening. "It was dumb and insensitive and I’m not letting you leave me because of it. I’m just not. So you can forget about that plan right now!"
His eyebrows rose again. The corners of his mouth lifted a little. "Oh?"
I was in desperation mode. A million thoughts, some uncomfortable, some anything but, were swirling in my head like a cyclone. Later on, I would figure it out. But right now, I had one goal and one goal only. To keep Zane around.
"Tomorrow morning, we’re going to work on your problem," I announced. "We’re going to go through everything you remember, we’re going to figure out who you were, and we’re going to get you wherever you’re supposed to be. Just you and me. On Sunset Beach. No talk of Matt or anyone else. Especially no talk of your deserting me when I least expect it. Because that would make me really, really upset. Got it?"
His mouth drew into a real smile this time. The full-blown, dimple-showing model that made my knees weak even when they weren't already wobbly. This one nearly undid me. I lurched and grabbed onto the railing.
But his smile was short-lived, muted all too quickly by the look of sadness that crept back into his eyes. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do that?"
"Do I look sure?" I demanded.
He flashed another smile. I tightened my grip on the railing.
"You’re a difficult person to say no to," he whispered.
"Then don’t."
We faced off, for a long moment, in silence. At last, he turned his gaze toward the beach again. "I’m taking advantage of you, Kali."
I stepped around into his line of sight. If I could have, I would have touched my fingers to his chin, turned his face back toward mine. "You’re not," I said emphatically. "If you don’t believe anything else I’ve said, please believe that. I’m not helping you because I feel sorry for you, or because I feel obligated. I want to help you because…"
The words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t fill in my own blanks. Even as I stood there, my brain grappling for something coherent to say, the rest of me pulsed its desire in no uncertain terms. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to bury my face in the curve of his shoulder, feel the warmth of his chest against my cheek. I wanted to hold him. I wanted him to hold me back.
But none of that was going to happen.
Ever.
Hot liquid swelled behind my eyes. I took a sharp breath and swallowed. "I want to help you because I care about you, too," I said mechanically, stepping quickly away from him and back toward the door. "So deal with it. I’m going to bed now, and when I come out for breakfast I want to see you here, ready to roll. All right?"
I dared one last glance over my shoulder. He hadn’t moved, but remained leaning against the railing, watching me with a smile I could afford myself only the briefest glimpse of, lest I crumble to the deck right then and there—a quivering heap of raw, hopelessly confused emotion.
"Whatever you say, Beautiful."
Beautiful.
I wrenched open the door and stepped hurriedly inside. I did not look over my shoulder again.
"Goodnight, Zane."
Chapter 16
"Pathetic," Zane said with a sigh, looking out over a fantastically beautiful seascape of azure water, moderately sized churning waves (moderate for Hawaii, meaning as big as any I’d ever seen on the East Coast), and golden sunshine. A steady, moist wind blew strongly in our faces, but the air was still comfortably warm.
"Worthless."
My eyebrows rose. Sunset Beach looked idyllic this morning. The red flags that ordinarily signaled "Do not swim here or you will die a horrible death" were conspicuously absent. A sprinkling of kids played in the sand. A few people waded. The now familiar shadows that haunted this particular stretch of beach near my condo were all in their usual places. But not a surfer was in sight.
"What’s wrong with it?" I asked.
"Onshore wind," he said simply.
As if that explained anything.
Ordinarily, I would ask for more. This morning, I had other things on my mind. "Sit down with me," I urged, unrolling my beach mat in a prime location under a cluster of palms. "I want to talk."
He sat.
Things were a little awkward between us this morning, but it wasn’t too bad. What had been harder was convincing my parents that I would rather hang out on the beach again—presumably alone—than join them in a second day of house hunting. My mother in particular had been disappointed, even a little hurt. But I knew I could make it up to her later. How much time I had left with Zane, I couldn’t bear to think about.
I had been tossing and turning all night.
"So, how much do you remember now?" I asked quietly. "Do you know your name? Where you came from?"
He sighed and ran a hand absently through his curls. His body was tense, his expression cheerless. It was a long time before he answered. "For a while, I was trying to remember," he said finally, his voice low. "But then I quit."
There was a profound sadness in his voice. I couldn’t feel it like I could feel the emotions of the shadows—or Rod’s particularly passionate anger—but it affected me, nevertheless. "Why?" I asked.
"Because," he began tentatively, idly plucking at a strand of sea grass which his fingers coursed right through. "I have this feeling… that my past is not somewhere I really want to be."
A wave of something, part sympathetic sorrow, part fear of hurting him further, wafted through me like a dark cloud. I wanted to tell him to forget it, that we should bag the drama and go do something fun. I wanted to see him smile again. I wanted to have some fun. But a larger part of me knew that avoiding the elepha
nt that was Zane's predicament would be selfishness. If we had been brought together for some cosmic reason, it certainly was not for my entertainment. We needed to do this thing. I needed to help him. Really help him.
"You have to remember, Zane," I insisted. "One piece at a time. You remembered when your father died. You remembered a couple years later, when you found out how. Have you remembered anything else since? Middle school? High school?"
He offered no response.
I coaxed him with a smile. "You remembered you were an awesome dancer."
He turned his head slowly toward mine. He smiled back. But only a little. "Like riding a bike, I guess. I do remember a few school dances. But they couldn't have been in high school, because I remember I was shorter than the girls."
I laughed. "I’m sure the preteens found you adorable, despite the height challenge."
Slowly, his smile began to broaden, as if he was remembering something he didn’t mind at all. Then he downright smirked.
"Maybe," he replied.
I cracked up. "Shocked, I am!" I teased. "Holy crap, Zane, whenever you do remember high school, you’re going to be impossible. Once the growth spurt hit the girls must have been all over you."
His green eyes looked into mine. "If they were," he said with sudden seriousness, "none of them were anything like you."
My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
He held my gaze. "I'm not sure. I just feel like, if I’d had you around then—maybe I wouldn’t be here, now."
I drew in a breath and held it. "I don’t understand."
His head turned. He exhaled roughly and trained his eyes out on the water. "It’s why I don’t want to remember, Kali. Because I know, somehow, that where I came from—I mean, whatever was happening with me more recently, before I died—it wasn’t good. It was horrible. I wanted away from there. And I don’t want to go back now, either in my mind or… any other way."