Pretty Dark Nothing

by Heather L. Reid

  Quinn pulled the helmet over her ears. “Your brother must have a big head.”

  Aaron adjusted the chinstrap. His hand brushed her cheek, and she shivered. “That better?”

  “A little.” Her head felt like a marble inside a mayonnaise jar.

  He removed his leather jacket and slipped it over her arms. The sleeves hung past her hands. “Put your feet here. When we turn, just ease your weight to that side. Follow the natural feel of the bike, don’t fight it, and don’t help it. Don’t put your feet down when we stop. Just sit there looking pretty and hang on tight. I’ll do the rest.” Aaron settled on the seat in front of her and pulled on his helmet. Quinn encircled his waist. “You might want to hold on tighter than that.” The engine sputtered and roared to life. Quinn felt unsteady on the bike as Aaron rocked forward, disengaging the kickstand with his heel, and she tightened her grip around his waist.

  The first few seconds felt unnatural as they sped out of the parking lot. Making the first turn awakened the dragonflies within her heart, but when they didn’t crash, her heartbeat returned to normal. As they approached the second turn, she pressed her body into Aaron’s and felt what he meant about moving with the bike.

  Faster and faster they rode through the night. Even with a jacket on, the wind whipped at her clothes, but she didn’t care. She leaned her head on Aaron’s back and sucked in the fresh scent of his cologne, a mixture of pine and cinnamon, reminding her of fall, while the steady rise and fall of his chest comforted her as she spooned him. Closing her eyes, she forced her lungs to match him breath for breath. Aaron, Quinn, free, exhilarating. She melted into his warmth. No one else existed in the world. She had no idea where they were going, and she didn’t care. She wanted to ride on and on, up to the moon, far away from the voices and rumors and drunken harassers.

  ***

  Aaron stopped the bike in the middle of an open field twenty minutes outside of town. Soft autumn grass dotted with white and yellow wildflowers stretched as far as the eye could see. The tops of the flowers waved in the breeze, filling the air with a sweet scent. Fireflies winked in and out, weaving their light across the open plain.

  The engine sighed and cut out. He dismounted and offered his hand. Her fingers fit within his like a puzzle. Even now, he sensed the truth of her feelings through their touch. No fear, no lies. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. If he hadn’t used his powers and sensed it for himself, he would have walked away and never looked back, but their connection went deeper than words, and he couldn’t turn his back on that.

  “We’re here.”

  “Where’s here?”

  Aaron led her several feet from the bike through the ankle high grass. “Look up.”

  A billion stars twinkled in the inky, cloudless sky. Each celestial body seemed close enough to touch. A harvest moon glowed bright orange among them, majestic as it hung suspended in heaven. Quinn gasped.

  “You wanted to be far away from everything and everyone? Will this do?”

  “It’s beautiful.” Not taking her eyes from the sky, Quinn settled cross-legged on the grass and pulled his jacket close around her. “Chilly isn’t it?”

  Aaron rubbed his hands together and sat beside her. “Sorry I don’t have a blanket or anything.” He scooted closer, not sure if he should put his arm around her or not. Would she want him to? If he touched her hand, he could find out easily enough, but that would be cheating.

  “It’s okay.” Quinn rested her head on his shoulder. “Mmm, you’re warm.”

  Aaron’s palms started to sweat as she curled into him, nudging him onto his back until their bodies were close enough to fuse together. He was almost scared to breathe, afraid he might wake up any moment and find it was all a dream. The ground smelled damp and sweet. Crickets chirped their night song, and an owl hooted in the distance.

  “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sky. It’s so bright tonight.” Quinn pointed to a constellation. “That’s Orion, I think. It’s the only one I can remember.”

  “The Big Dipper’s the only one I know.” Aaron pointed to another group of stars. A jumble of questions lodged in the back of Aaron’s throat, about her nightmares, their connection, her sudden change toward him. He wanted to ask them all at once, but he’d never seen Quinn so calm before, so relaxed. Her happy mood pulsed against his consciousness, and he began to trust the moment, letting his desire to be with her sweep all uncertainty away. Maybe now wasn’t the time to probe her for answers. She’d had a rough night, if she wanted to forget the drama and talk about stars, why not? Maybe it was time to get to know each other better, like two people on a first date talking about normal stuff.

  “What about the Ice Cream Sundae? It even has a cherry on top.” Quinn indicated a dense ball of stars.

  “Or the frog?” Aaron said. “Catching a fly.”

  “Oh! I totally see it! Can you imagine being born under the frog star sign?”

  “Better than the sign of the fly.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  Quinn paused. “Sometimes I feel so insignificant when I look at the vastness of the universe.”

  The ease of their conversation surprised him. All awkwardness disappeared, and it was if they’d know each other their whole lives, spent hours under the stars just like this.

  “Yeah, I know how you feel. Billions of stars and galaxies, and humans have barely scratched the surface of what’s out there.” Aaron caressed her arm. “We have more in common with the universe than you know. We’re all part of it, made of it, of stardust.”

  “Carl Sagan.” Quinn turned and smiled.

  “You’ve heard of Carl Sagan?”

  “My dad used to watch old videos of his show, Cosmos. He had a thing for stars, my dad … ” A worry line appeared on Quinn’s brow.

  “How long has your dad been gone?”

  “Long enough.”

  Emotion surged from Quinn, straining against his barrier. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, and the intensity lessened.

  “Do you think they’ve missed me yet?”

  Aaron turned on his side to face Quinn. “Kerstin’s probably celebrating your demise.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Let her.” Quinn turned so she was nose-to-nose with him. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” She draped her arm over his and fingered the soft flannel of his sleeve. “Why do you always wear long sleeves?” She tugged at the cuff.

  Her curiosity assaulted him. Her attempt to probe his barrier felt clumsy and unfocused. He sensed a current of latent power that he guessed she didn’t even know was there. She probed him, not the other way around. The realization hit him like a mac truck; that’s why they didn’t always have to be skin-to-skin for him to sense her. Millions of questions rushed him, and he struggled to slow down his quivering brain. How do you tell someone they might have latent psychic ability? Would mentioning it freak her out?

  Quinn played with the small, pearl button of his shirt, and a tiny piece of his wall cracked.

  Her power brushed against his mind, questing for an answer. “Even when it’s hot, even when everyone’s in t-shirts, you’re covered up. Why?”

  Because reading minds and emotions wasn’t his only secret, or his darkest. “I … ” Aaron’s mouth went dry as he tried to compose himself, tried to patch the chink in his barrier before the whole thing collapsed. Then, she was gone, retreating behind the barrier as if she’d never been there at all.

  She had no idea what she was asking him to do, the wounds that would bleed if he showed her, but something deep inside urged him to do it. And maybe telling her would bring her closer to opening up to him. He had sensed it, she wanted to. Maybe he could tell her one secret, but not the other. Start small, at the beginning. It was up to him to take the first step. Aaron took a deep breath before rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. He turned his palms face up, bared his forearms, and thus, his soul.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Quinn stared
at the thick, jagged scars that snaked up Aaron’s arms. From his wrist, six inches of rough, pink, clumpy tissue embossed his pale flesh. She took his left hand in hers and traced the scar with her finger, feeling, memorizing every bump and curve. He flinched and jerked away.

  “Sorry.” Aaron massaged the scar and stared off into space. “It’s hard for me to let anyone see them, let alone touch them.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I should never have pushed you.”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

  A hollow pit opened in her stomach. Staring at his scars, she didn’t want to admit to herself, to anyone, that she’d contemplated the same thing. Quinn pretended to pick grass off her sweater and tried to think of the right words to fill the awkward silence. “Why’d you do it? You must have been pretty messed up to want to die.” She winced for making the dumbest statement she could possibly make. Who was she to call somebody messed up when she was the queen of freakdom? “Sorry, you’re sharing a painful moment, and I’m saying all the wrong things.”

  Aaron shrugged. “I was messed up. More than messed up.”

  “So, why? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” But she desperately wanted him to. Knowing he’d been so messed up once that he tried to kill himself made her feel less crazy, less alone.

  “No. I want to.” Aaron hung his head, and a strand of dark hair fell across his furrowed brow. She wanted to smooth it back, to comfort him the way he’d comforted her so many times before, but she sensed he needed space to think through the story. “It was a combination of things. Guilt. Anger. Grief.” His voice flowed from his full lips, soft, low. “I wanted to stop the pain, to stop feeling. I thought it was the way out. That maybe it would make things right.”

  “Make what right?”

  He turned onto his back as he spoke, gazing into Neverland. “There was an accident.” He rolled down his sleeves, telling the story as if recounting something he’d heard on the news. “I don’t remember much about that night. I only know what my dad told me.”

  He paused, his Adam’s apple lowering as he struggled to swallow. “My mom, little sister, and I were on the way back from dropping my brother off at a friend’s. It was raining and there were reports of flooding, so my mom had taken a different route home. We were on a bridge, and some kid in a pickup was going too fast. He lost control and hit the car smack on the driver’s side.” Aaron paused. “Our car crashed over the barrier and into the water. Ruth, my baby sister, was in the back. She was four.”

  He cleared his throat. “The impact broke my window. The water was so cold. I tried to get them out. I tried, but it was dark, and I didn’t know which was up. I watched her … Ruth.” He choked out her name. “I watched her sink beneath the rushing water. She reached for me. I tried … to get to her.”

  “Aaron, I’m sorry.” Quinn’s face was wet with tears. She tried to imagine what it would be like to watch her mother die right in front of her, powerless to stop it. The demons, her break up with Jeff, everything she’d ever been through paled in comparison. Aaron always seemed so strong and sure. No one would ever have guessed he’d been through something so tragic. Everything about him emanated quiet strength. It’s what drew her to him. Could he help her find her own strength and courage? Drive the darkness from her mind?

  “I blamed myself.” Aaron balled his fist and fastened the button around his wrist, covering the last inch of his secret.

  “They found me by the side of the river, dead. Nobody knows how long I’d been there. The paramedics managed to resuscitate me, but I couldn’t breathe on my own. When I finally woke from the coma, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know anyone or anything. Do you know what it’s like to feel completely alien in a world that should be familiar?” His eyes glistened, and he turned away, blinking.

  Quinn shook her head, but she understood more than he could possibly imagine. Aaron’s strength inspired her. If he could survive all that, she could fight these demons, she could get her life back on track. “How long did it take to regain your memory?”

  “I’ll never get it all back. I’m not the same Aaron. After the accident, I knew I didn’t belong here. It should be Ruth sitting here today, not me. I should be dead—I was dead. I tried to right the wrong and spent six months in the psych ward at Rio Villa for it.”

  Aaron placed a hand on Quinn’s cheek and brushed the moisture away with his thumb. “Hey, don’t cry.” He pulled her to him. Her head rested on his chest, tucked beneath his chin as she swallowed the shame rising inside. She’d treated Aaron like crap, pushed him away because she’d been afraid to trust him. Yet here he was again, this beautiful, damaged soul baring his broken heart and asking for nothing in return. And to think, she once wanted Jeff over Aaron. Jeff wasn’t fit to even stand in Aaron’s shadow. His fingers moved through her hair, consoling her as she soaked his shirt with her tears. She should be the one protecting him from his pain, not the other way around. She let him comfort her anyway and let herself contemplate falling in love with him.

  “Is that why you moved here?” she asked.

  He nodded. “They told my dad trying to force me into my old life was too stressful. I needed to start a new one. A different life for a different Aaron.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “Marcus, a few others.”

  “But, those scars are major. How did you survive?”

  Aaron stiffened. She listened to his heartbeat against her cheek.

  “I didn’t.” His voice sounded strained.

  “What do you mean?” Quinn held her body completely still. She heard her blood whooshing in her ears as her pulse quickened.

  “I died. Josh found me in a pool of blood. I died in the hospital. They brought me back just before … ”

  “Before what?”

  “I’m not sure.” His frown darkened, and he shook his head. Quinn bit her lip. Had she gone too far? Aaron didn’t speak, but he didn’t push her away either. He lay rigid, and she tensed in response. Breath for breath, she matched him, waiting, wondering what she should do.

  “I try to remember, but it slips away every time I come close.” He paused and lowered his voice. “I saw something. The same something I saw the first time when I was in the coma. Something in the darkness. Watching me.”

  “You’ve seen it twice? What was it? Were you scared?” Quinn held her breath. If Aaron had seen them, could describe them, then she wasn’t crazy, or alone. Could Aaron’s uncanny ability to show up in her time of distress be more than coincidence? Could it have something to do with what he’d seen during his time in the coma?

  “No, I don’t remember feeling scared, but it’s a blur.”

  Quinn’s heart sunk. For a moment, she had been sure Aaron would be able to answer her questions.

  “All I know is that I wasn’t alone. I was sent back for a reason, but I have no idea what that reason is. Why else would I survive two near-death experiences? I know it sounds … well … kind of crazy.”

  Aaron’s face glistened in the dim shaft of moonlight. Quinn stroked his hair. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  He took her head in his hands and pulled her down to him. Their lips touched, and she came alive, every nerve in her body was aware of him. She tasted butter as his mouth opened to hers. Strong hands stroked her back. Her world spun backward, turned upside-down, and all the fear and confusion drained out of her. She wanted Aaron, his lips on hers, his hands caressing her.

  Passion fed on passion as the intensity of the kiss grew. As if he could read her mind, he rolled her over, pressing his body against hers. Quinn thought they might melt right through to the core of the earth. The kiss softened. The sweetest, longest, most gentle touch of his lips on hers. Then, he pulled away, leaving them both breathless.

  “Wow. That’s not usually the reaction I get when I spill my deep, dark secrets.” Aaron curled himself around her, lips against her shoulder. His warm breath awakened her de
sire for him to kiss her neck, and her heartbeat quickened.

  “Aaron?”

  “Quinn?” He stroked her hair.

  “I’ve got a deep, dark secret too.”

  “That you’re a druggie? I heard.” He kissed her neck, her cheek, eyelid, nose, and finally brushed his gentle lips on hers.

  “I’m serious.” Quinn’s sentences, words, thoughts unraveled with every touch of his lips, making it impossible to concentrate.

  He continued kissing her nose, cheek, eyelids. “You sound it.” He kissed her, deeply.

  “Maybe you were sent back for me.”

  “So I could ravage you in the moonlight? If so, I’m grateful.”

  “I’m serious. I need to tell you before I lose my nerve,” she whispered.

  “Sorry. I’m listening.” Aaron’s eyes met hers, and she felt naked, like he already knew what was in her soul. “I told you a secret, now you can tell me one of yours. I won’t judge. I swear. You can tell me anything.”

  “I’ve seen … ” An invisible hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing and constricting the air from her lungs. She tried to form the words, but they wouldn’t come. Trapped in one of those dreams where you scream and scream but no sound ever comes out. She fought to speak, but every thought of telling him brought an increase in pressure. She bolted upright and clawed at her throat, fighting the invisible fingers for breath.

  “Are you okay?” Aaron’s eyes widened, glowing in the moonlight.

  She looked up. A dark mass covered the moon. The darkness forced itself inside her, taking over, like a shadow crawling through her veins. Her whole body shook as she fought against it. I won’t tell him. Please, please just let me go! she thought. I swear!

  She grabbed Aaron’s hand, and in response he gathered her in his arms, stroking her hair, her back, her skin until his touch burned through the darkness, dispelling the shadow, and freeing her from its grip. The cords in her neck relaxed, and she gulped at the cool night air.