by Amber Garza
Delaney cocks her head. “Conditions?”
“Surely you weren’t just handed this amazing gift without some parameters. It never works like that. Look at every fairy tale ever written. Every power comes with a catch.” I am trying to be funny, but she doesn’t laugh.
“Oh.” She looks up at me, her eyebrows furrowed. “Well, yes. I had to promise to always use my power for good.”
“That’s all?” Man, if that’s what Killian and Kaine were after, it’s kind of funny.
Delaney squirms, twirling a strand of hair with her fingers. Without looking me straight in the eyes she says, “Yes.”
“Delaney?”
She peers up at me, guilt etching her face.
I know she’s lying and it stings a little. I wonder if she’ll ever completely trust me. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
She shakes her head, her hair lashing her in the face with each movement. Man, she has so much hair. She’s like Rapunzel or something, hair so long I can practically use it like a rope and climb up it. It reminds me of a picture I’d seen in her photo album.
“You’ve always had long hair, huh?”
Delaney lets go of my hand, and reaches up to touch her red curls. “I like it.”
“It’s beautiful. I just know that most girls like to change their hairstyles. You’ve always worn yours the same.”
Delaney frowns, looking away. Color rises from her neck up into her face.
I wonder why this conversation upsets her.
“Delaney?”
She refuses to look at me. Does she regret telling me her secret? Is she having second thoughts about us?
“Why are you upset? Did I say something wrong?” I carefully inch toward her, and reach my hand out to touch a strand of her hair. She flinches. “I don’t understand why you’re acting this way.”
She looks at me, her face softening. “I just don’t know why you brought that up. Don’t you like my hair?”
I sigh. She always seems so strong. I sometimes forget that she can be sensitive. Knowing that she cares so much about what I think relieves some of the sting of her keeping more secrets from me. Heck, I haven’t always been the most trustworthy guy in the world. Soon enough she’ll open up. I just have to prove to her that I’m loyal to her.
“I love your hair.” I scoot close, running my fingers through it. She tilts her head toward me and I trail kisses down her neck. Her breath is hot against my face, coming out in short gasps. I pepper kisses up to her face until our mouths meet. “I love everything about you.”
Her body stiffens.
Oh no. Did I come on too strong? I freeze.
“I love everything about you too,” she whispers, taking me in her arms. I sigh with relief as she buries her face in my shoulder.
When we part, I open the windows. Cool air trickles into the truck, swirling around us. Below us I can hear the water lapping against the shore. The scent of honeysuckle wafts inside. Delaney drops her head on my shoulder and her hair spills down me like red flames. I put my arm around her and run a finger along her upper arm.
“You know, I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”
She rolls her head to face me and smiles lazily. “Me neither.”
The sky darkens and I glance at the clock on my dashboard. “I better get you home.”
“Yeah, if my parents get home before me I’ll be in big trouble.” She sits up straight. “Ow.” Reaching behind her she yanks her hair out from under her body and giggles. “I hate when I sit on my hair.”
I chuckle as I start the engine. Delaney is the only girl I know with such long hair. Most girls don’t let it go past their butt unless it’s part of their religion or something. Of course most guys don’t have long hair either, but that doesn’t stop Micah. As I drive away from the lake a thought nags me. An image of the little boy at Delaney’s house comes to mind. It didn’t click with me before, but his hair was long also. Too long for a little boy.
When I peer over at Delaney she smiles, her hair whipping in the wind.
I remember all the hair ties, headbands, brushes and product that littered her room. I think about how uncomfortable she was when I mentioned her hair. My heart pounds in my chest as it hits me. The power lies in her hair. That’s why she and Micah don’t cut theirs. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Hot and cold flashes rip through my body at the revelation.
I know Delaney’s secret. And I know I’ll never tell a single soul.
I’ll guard it with my life.
Chapter 26
Delaney
I WAKE UP Monday morning excited. My parents think I have a group project to work on after school, so I have a full hour with Sam this afternoon. All morning, I go through my classes in a daze, counting down the minutes until school is over. My pulse quickens each time I think about Sam. I know we’ve been together less than a month, but I like him so much.
Even Micah’s grumpy attitude at lunch doesn’t deter me. He’s hunched over his sandwich wearing a scowl. We still haven’t talked about our argument Saturday night, and I don’t bring it up. I know we will have to discuss it at some point, but I’m not quite ready yet and he doesn’t seem to want to revisit it.
I nudge him in the arm and point to Sasha, the peppy head cheerleader. “Okay, what do you think Sasha’s superpower would be?” I chuckle. “I think it would be to zap people with fashion sense.”
Micah barely cracks a smile.
I roll my eyes. “Oh c’mon, even though you’re mad at me you have to admit that was funny.”
He sighs. “I didn’t think it was.”
“Fine. What do you think her power would be?”
He stares at her for a minute, thinking. She is sitting at a table surrounded by other girls all giggling and talking over one another.
“I know,” he finally says. “It would be the ability to eat anything she wants and not gain weight. Maybe that way she’d actually eat lunch once in awhile.”
I laugh. It’s true. I don’t think I’d ever seen Sasha eat lunch. Before I look back at Micah, I catch a glimpse of Sam across the room. He is sitting at his normal table, but his eyes are glued to me, and they reflect the same longing as mine.
It makes me feel good knowing that he’s as restless as I am.
“This is ridiculous,” Micah says, pulling my attention back to him.
“What?”
“I’m not going to sit here while you stare at him all during lunch.” Micah grits his teeth in frustration.
“Micah.”
“If you want to be with him, just go. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped. “You’re my best friend. We’ve eaten lunch together every day since first grade. That’s not going to change now.”
“But you want to sit with him, I can tell.”
I raise my eyebrows and work up the courage to ask what I’m thinking. “Maybe he could sit with us.”
“I’m not hanging out with him. You might trust him, but I don’t.”
“C’mon, he’s not a bad guy when you get to know him.”
“I don’t want to get to know him.”
My chest tightens. I can tell that he’ll never accept this relationship. “Micah, are you going to tell my parents?”
His eyes darken. “I probably should have already.”
I struggle to catch my breath. “But you haven’t, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, I think it needs to come from you.”
“So, how much longer do we have to sneak around?” Sam asks while we sit under a tree in the park. Kids squeal while swinging on the swing set, and others chase each other down the slide.
I rest my back against the scratchy bark of the tree trunk. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when can we make our relationship public? If Superman already knows, can’t we tell others?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t call him that
.”
“Sorry.” Sam leans against me, placing a hand over my arm. “Don’t get me wrong. I love spending time with you no matter how I have to do it. But I know your secret now and you can trust me. I want to take you out like a real boyfriend.” He runs a finger along my arm. “I want to be with you at school. It’s so hard to pretend that I hardly know you when you’re all I think about.”
My heart tugs at his words. I know exactly how he feels. It’s brutal to stay away from him all the time. But Sam doesn’t know my family. They’ll never go for our relationship. If I want to keep seeing him, it has to be under wraps. “Just give it time, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“I can do anything for you, Delaney.” He bends his head down and kisses my shoulder. “Who is this?” He points to the face of a woman smiling at us from the skin on my shoulder.
“My mom.”
“You look a lot like her.” He grimaces. “But I’ll probably never kiss that spot again.”
I giggle.
“How does it happen?” he asks. “How do pictures appear on your skin? I’ve always wondered. I mean, like do you decide what appears and what doesn’t?”
I shake my head. “I have no control of it. But I usually know what will appear, because every picture signifies an important event or person in my life. If I feel strongly about something it usually surfaces. It’s like my inner thoughts are exposed outwardly.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Not at all. It’s a symbol of who I am and what I represent. I like it.” I peer up at him. “Don’t you?”
“I think your tattoos are beautiful. Just like everything about you.” Sam looks at me thoughtfully. “Do you think I’ll ever show up on your skin?”
I nod, thinking about all the tattoos I have that link Micah and I together. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about having something on my flesh that links me to Sam. The thought of that exhilarates me. Only I know it would mean more if he could have a matching one.
“What about the Sarafite’s symbol? Does it just show up the way yours does?”
“No,” I say. “They choose to be branded with the symbol of fire. It’s more like a traditional tattoo.” I pause and then gather up the courage to ask the question I’ve always wanted to ask. “Sam, why don’t you follow Zerach?”
He shrugs. “The idea of anyone having control over me is scary. I guess I’m just not ready to relinquish it yet. Like when I see images on people’s flesh, I think that I would hate to not be able to choose what I show the world. I would hate for things to just show up on my skin.” He picks at a blade of grass and rolls it between his fingers. “I’ve never been able to choose anything in my life. When my mom left, I had no choice. When I had to come back to live with Dad, I had no choice. When my dad made me work with him at the shop, I had no choice. I just need to have a choice about something. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense.” I crane my neck and kiss Sam gently on the lips, marveling at how alike we are. Micah has never understood my desire to choose my own path. He’s always been content to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else’s game. I want to live my own life on my own terms.
And right now, I want that life to include Sam.
“Ready to train?” It’s Wednesday afternoon and Micah stands on my front porch wearing gym shorts and wife-beater tank top. It’s funny how Micah is the only guy I know that actually looks sexy wearing one of those. His gaze trails down my body, taking in my skirt and sparkly top. “You’re not ready at all. Did you forget?”
“You’ve pretty much been avoiding me all week. Even at lunch you act like you can’t get away fast enough. I didn’t think you’d want to train this afternoon.”
“I don’t, but it’s a necessity. We don’t get out of our duties, no matter how we’re feeling about it.”
Irritation bubbles inside of me like the carbonation of a soda. I feel like I’m going to explode. It’s not like I’ve done anything horrible to deserve this treatment. “How long are you planning to stay mad at me, Micah?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “How long are you planning on seeing Sam?”
I flash him a warning look and glance down the hallway, hoping that Mom is out of earshot.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Micah snorts. “Just meet me over in my backyard. Ariel’s already there.”
This stops me cold. “Ariel’s training with us now?”
“The three of us need to learn to work as a team.”
“Fine,” I huff. “What are we working on?”
“Fighting.”
I chuckle bitterly. “Well, then you and I should totally kick butt. We seem to be experts on that lately.”
Micah narrows his eyes. “Not arguing, Delaney. I meant fighting – as in boxing, you know?”
“I know. I was just trying to make a joke.” I’m completely exasperated with him. “Just go home. I’ll be there in a minute.” I slam the door shut and head to my room to change.
After slipping on a pair of shorts and a tank top and pulling my hair into a ponytail, I head over to Micah’s. By the time I get into his backyard Micah is already showing Ariel how to throw a punch. Our backyards are the same exact size, but they don’t look similar at all. Ours is landscaped with lush green grass and is outlined in flowers. My mom loves to garden, so in the corner of the yard we have a vegetable garden full of tomatoes, cucumbers, basil and zucchini. On the patio we have a picnic table and chairs. Sometimes on nice nights we barbecue and eat outside.
A few years back Micah’s parents turned his backyard into a training facility, complete with obstacle courses, a punching bag and weight benches. Right now, Micah is standing behind Ariel holding her by the arm and guiding it into the punching bag that hangs from the overhang on his patio.
I reach for a pair of boxing gloves and slide them on. Ariel seems to be struggling a bit, so Micah is patiently demonstrating his stance. Pushing past them, I stand in front of the bag.
“I’ll show you how it’s done.” With my legs apart, I bend my knees. I picture the man in the parking lot the other night, remembering how I knocked him out in one punch. Swinging my arm back, I channel the same energy and lunge it forward. The bag swings backward, the chains rattling forcefully.
“Wow.” Micah whistles. “Someone’s been practicing.”
I lift my head triumphantly, relishing in the compliment. “Yeah, you should have seen—” Clamping my mouth shut, I chastise myself for being so stupid. I was just about to tell him what happened at the pizza place. How stupid am I? If I have any hope of him keeping my relationship with Sam a secret from my parents, he can never find out about that.
“Seen what?” Micah raises a brow.
“Oh, nothing. Just, you know, in PE the other day we were doing self-defense and I totally dropped this other girl.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. I sincerely hope Micah doesn’t know that our class isn’t doing self-defense this semester.
“I’m sure you did. The girl hasn’t had your training.” He gives me a disapproving look. “I never work up to my full potential in PE.”
His self-righteous behavior is totally annoying. “Of course you don’t, Micah. But I don’t have your superhuman strength, so I think I’m good.”
“I don’t know. That punch you landed was pretty fierce.” Ariel smirks. “I wish I could do that.”
“You can.” Micah turns to her. “It’ll just take some practice.”
“Do you think we’ll all have to know how to fight? I mean, I thought we all had different gifts for a reason. I assumed some would fight, while others would hang back and wait to use their powers when they’re needed. Like mine is healing, so shouldn’t I be kept out of battle so I can heal those who are hurt?”
“Seriously?” I’m astounded by her naivety.
“Delaney,” Micah warns.
“No, it’s crazy. I mean, you really think that’s how it works? There are only ten of us and God knows how many of them. We�
�re all going to have to do everything.”
Ariel’s eyes flash. “Then why do we have different gifts? Why not give us all superhuman strength, or amazing skills in battle?”
Micah steps between us. “I think Ariel’s right.”
“Huh?” Dumfounded, I stagger backward.
“We don’t really know what the battle will look like. Delaney and I have always trained together because we have been put in situations where Delaney has had to fight, like you saw. But it’s true that our gifts compliment each other. Delaney has her visions and then I use my strength to stop it from happening. I do think once all ten of us get together our gifts will compliment one another’s. You may not end up fighting at all, Ariel. But you should be ready to, just in case.”
She nods tentatively. “Okay. I’ll learn.” As she turns toward the punching bag, red gloves encasing her hand, she mutters so low I can barely hear her, “But I’m not fighting.”
I watch her, skepticism filling me. No matter what Micah thinks, I still believe she’s the one who will betray us.
“So, does this mean we’re in the clear?” Sam asks on Thursday when I tell him that Officer Thomas never told my parents about the rescue at the pizza place and Micah seems to be keeping his mouth shut too. We are hiding out in the library just to talk for a few minutes after school. I lean against a row of bookshelves, while Sam hovers over me.
“I think so.” I smile up at him. It’s the first time all week that I’m finally allowing myself to hope that my parents may never find out about us.
“That’s what you wanted, right?” He presses his body against mine. The smell of dust almost makes me sneeze. I turn my face away and fight against it, my eyes watering.
When the sensation passes, I look at him. “Yeah, it is.”
“Then I’m happy.” He smiles, but it looks a little forced.
My insides twist. I know that Sam wants to be able to make our relationship public. I can tell that there’s a part of him that probably wanted Officer Thomas to spill the story to my parents. That way we’d be forced to tell. Only he doesn’t know what he’s wishing for. He’ll never understand how deep my parents’ convictions run.