He holds me for a long time.
Chapter Thirteen
Dinner is subdued. I don’t know if I’m still carrying the weight of our earlier conversation or if there’s an undercurrent of something going on between Alexander and Edwin. It’s probably both.
Edwin greets me kindly, as always, and while he’s preparing dinner he shares stories of close calls and misadventures he and Alexander encountered in Australia. A few times, as our meal is simmering on the stove, he walks over to the front window and looks up and down the street, scanning for something. It’s discomforting.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Just looking to see if another storm is coming,” Edwin says as he tugs the curtains closed tightly.
The weather has been dark and gloomy for weeks now. Powerful thunder and lightning storms—a downright rarity for San Mar—have been hitting with regularity. My mom was raised in upstate New York and although she loves California weather, she has always lamented the fact that we have very few thunderstorms here. “We used to have terrifically loud storms in the summer that would crack your eyeballs and light up the sky,” she reminisced to me many times over the years. “Rain would pour down in buckets. Then the storm would be over in a flash and the clouds would part and the sun would come out with a bright sky and a rainbow. It was a gorgeous display of mother nature’s power and beauty.”
In San Mar, even when thunderstorms manage to roll in they’re all weak cousins to the storms of my mom’s youth. Lately however, the terrific rumbles and crashes of the storms in San Mar are so powerful and out of the ordinary that even my mom has admitted they rival New York storms. The last time we had one, the power went out and she jokingly looked up, raised her arms over her head, and cried out, “Uncle!” as a thunder clap shook the house. As we were searching in the dark for a flashlight, another ear-splitting crack sounded. “I give up!” she protested, “I’ve been asking for thunderstorms for years and now you’re sending too many!”
“Dinner’s ready. What can I get you to drink?” Edwin’s voice brings me back to the present. He’s holding a bottle of plain sparkling water in one hand and some flavored Pellegrino in the other.
“Pellegrino would be great, thanks. What can I do to help?”
“Why don’t you and Alexander pour the drinks and I’ll bring the food to the table. Then we’ll be set.”
The oddest thing about being around Edwin is we never talk about the fact that he and Alexander are angels. Our conversations are always pleasant but mundane—about the weather, or school, or his many stories of Australia, for instance. It’s surreal and disconcerting. I have to keep reminding myself that he’s the one who gave Alexander permission the night of the dance (which seems like a lifetime ago now) to tell me the truth. According to Alexander, Edwin is a powerful guardian, and has been for a very long time. There are questions I’d like to ask that perhaps only Edwin can answer. I don’t understand his reasons for always directing our conversations to small talk but I’m wary of stepping outside the parameters he has us operating within.
On the surface, our dinner is congenial—we’re making light conversation and having a nice meal—but simmering in the background is an atmosphere of thick tension between Edwin and Alexander, and it’s building a deep sense of dread within me.
As we start clearing dishes, Edwin pauses mid-stride and snaps his fingers. “Oh shoot, I forgot to buy whipped cream. The pie won’t be the same without it. Alexander, would you mind running to the store? By the time you get back, Declan and I will have everything cleaned up and we should be all ready for dessert.”
“Sure,” Alexander says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll be right back.” He smiles at me as he grabs his keys and leaves.
As soon as the front door closes, Edwin’s demeanor changes from jovial to coldly sober. He sets down the dish in his hand. “We need to talk,” he says as he leads me over to the kitchen table and sits down across from me. His expression is so serious I’m terrified.
“Whatever’s going on between you and Alexander can’t continue.” His words strike me like a blow to the chest. “You understand relationships between guardians and mortals are forbidden?”
My mind is racing. Why is he being so accusing? I was under the impression Edwin approved (albeit begrudgingly) of my relationship with Alexander. Moreover, I thought he genuinely liked me. It hurts to realize I’ve been all wrong … and the thought of not continuing to see Alexander is inconceivable.
“Yes, I know it’s not ideal, but I love Alexander. Deeply. And I know he loves me.” My voice quavers with fear.
Edwin softens, but only a little. “Declan, I know you love Alexander. And it’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that he’s head over heels for you. But that’s the problem. Truth be told, dear, I like you a great deal. If things were different …” his voice trails off as he rubs his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. “But they’re not,” he continues resolutely, “and there are things of far greater importance at stake here.”
“Maybe I can help ...”
Edwin cuts me off. “You don’t understand. Avestan has you in his sights now and you’ve become a difficult complication. You’re the problem, not the solution.” Seeing the devastation on my face at his words, he quickly adds, “As much as it pains me to say it.”
There’s a long stretch of silence and then Edwin strikes to the heart of his message. “The only way you can help is to make a very difficult decision. For Alexander’s sake.”
“For Alexander’s sake?”
“Yes. He’s been hiding it from you, but being with you is taking a toll on him. And it will only continue to get worse as long as you remain together.”
“What do you mean? Taking a toll how?”
“Being around you weakens him.”
My face flashes disbelief.
“It’s true. And at the same time, Avestan’s influence is building. Have you seen what’s happening? Dark forces are gaining ground, expanding throughout the city. The crime, the storms—they’re all signs. We can’t lose the balance because once it’s lost we may never be able to get it back.”
“What are you saying?”
“Like attracts like. Dark energy feeds on itself and spreads, just as good energy does. If dark forces gain a majority, it will be nearly impossible to rein in as the evil multiplies.”
“What does any of that have to do with Alexander and I being together?”
“Declan, I know this is hard to understand. Your aura is like no other mortal’s I’ve seen. Ever. Destroying a power like yours could do untold damage. If dark forces gain a stronghold here and build momentum it could trigger a ripple effect.” His expression is gravely serious.
“But how am I weakening Alexander?”
“There’s a reason no Guardian has ever fallen for a mortal. Mortals typically hold no attraction—they’re still evolving. You, however, are somehow an exception and Alexander’s feelings for you are forcing him to resist. Each day he spends resisting that earthly connection, his power diminishes. At the very least you’re a distraction for him that I never should have sanctioned. I’m surprised he’s been able to maintain his strength this long. Your aura has made you a target for Avestan. Alexander’s love for you has only made it worse. And now, as Alexander is trying to protect you, dark forces will exploit his vulnerability and use his weakness against him. Eventually they’ll destroy him. And you.”
“Can’t you protect him? I thought guardians were powerful.”
“Even the greatest forces can be felled. One weak link threatens us all and Alexander’s connection with you is making him vulnerable.”
“I don’t understand. What are you asking me to do?”
Edwin looks into my eyes. “You must convince Alexander that you no longer love him.”
His words siphon the oxygen from my lungs and the room becomes small around us.
“I know it will be very difficult,” he says gently, placing both his hands
over mine, “but, Declan, I’ve thought this through and it’s the only way he’ll ever let you go. If you want to save Alexander, you need to take the love that you feel for him and figure out a way to convince him it was never there.”
I’m having trouble breathing. I know Alexander will be back any moment. I can’t face him. I feel manipulated and angry. Edwin must have planned the evening—to have me over for dinner and then send Alexander out so he could talk to me alone. How can he ask me to do this?
Beneath my roiling emotions, a rational corner of my brain realizes Edwin only wants to protect Alexander. I know I should feel grateful that he trusts me enough to tell me the truth. After all, Alexander has been keeping it from me. He’s been at my side day in and day out and he never said a word that I was harming him. How could he have done that? My anger refocuses on Alexander. My mind is racing and my heart aches and I know I can’t be here when he returns.
“Edwin, I’m feeling so many emotions right now I can’t think straight. I love Alexander, and if I’m truly putting him in danger ….” My voice breaks and Edwin gently squeezes my hands with compassion. “I would do anything to protect him ... but I need time to think. I need to go home. I can’t be here when Alexander gets back. I can’t let him see my face or he’ll know. Tell him I left feeling ill. Tell him dinner didn’t agree with me—whatever you think he’ll believe …. When do I have to do this?”
“The sooner the better,” Edwin answers solemnly.
My heart breaks as I nod. “Tomorrow. I’ll figure out a way to do what you asked by tomorrow.”
His shoulders go slack with relief. “Thank you. I knew you would do the right thing.” He glances at the clock on the wall next to us. “Let’s go quickly. I’ll walk you home.”
The sound of our hurried steps on the pavement is lost to the wind as we walk in silence. Leaves are swirling in a mini cyclone near the streetlight on the corner. Edwin holds out his hand and somehow the wind stops whipping against my face, as if there’s a shield around us. I’m too bereft and distracted to thank him or even care. He nods soberly to me when we reach my door. As I turn to go inside, he impulsively reaches out and hugs me tightly. “Thank you, Declan,” he says quietly before he walks away.
The house is empty when I go inside. Thankfully, my mom is still out meeting with a client. I’m in no shape for small talk. Numbly, I go upstairs to my room and step out of my clothes as I walk into the bathroom. I drag my toothbrush across my teeth in a trance. As I get into bed and lay staring at the ceiling I hear the ding of an incoming text from my phone on the nightstand.
It’s from Alexander. “U ok? Call me.”
“A little sick,” I reply (that part isn’t a lie). “Going to sleep. Thx 4 dinner.”
“Thx 4 dinner that made u sick? R u nuts?”
“Ha. Going 2 bed. I’ll b fine.”
“K, call if you need me. Sweet dreams, babe, I love u.”
I stare at the phone a long time, my heart breaking. I finally turn it off and set it on the nightstand without replying.
My mind is reeling with Edwin’s request. How can I possibly convince Alexander I don’t love him? And how could I bear it if I did? But what choice do I have? If what Edwin said is true, Alexander is getting weaker while Avestan and the other dark angels are growing stronger. All because of me.
What could I say that he would believe? I could pretend to be in love with someone else. No, he’d never believe it, and besides that, who? I’ve never been interested in anyone except for Alexander and he knows it.
I can tell him I’m tired of not being able to kiss—or anything else someday, for that matter. In truth, I would gladly spend an eternity with Alexander following those constraints if that’s what it takes to be together, but at least this excuse has a ring of truth to it because resisting is so hard on both of us.
I can tell him his protectiveness is overbearing. He never lets me go anywhere alone and I’m starting to feel suffocated. This isn’t true, but he doesn’t know how I’m feeling, so it might work.
I have one final idea. It’s the cruelest of them all. Combined with the others, I know it’s the only thing that would cause Alexander to truly believe I never loved him. I don’t think I can do it, but I know I have to. I consider running away rather than make up lies designed to hurt him. But what would I tell my mom and where would I go? Plus, I know Alexander would come for me and Edwin said the other guardians need him—he can’t afford to be distracted any longer. I have to say something that will convince him he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. The thought makes me sick. Literally. I run to the bathroom just in time for everything I’ve eaten to come up in waves as my stomach contracts over and over. When there’s nothing left to expel, I dry heave until my stomach feels bruised from the inside out. I’m so exhausted I lay on the floor for a long time, staring at the cold, white tiles.
Eventually I drag myself to bed and let the tears flow onto my pillow. In the early morning hours I finally manage to escape into sleep.
Avestan is chasing me. I’m running as fast as I can but every time I turn around he’s closer. It’s misty with fog and it’s getting dark. I’m running along the boardwalk, searching frantically for someone to help me but it’s deserted. The wet cold soaks through to my bones and I’m desperate to find a hiding place. I hear Avestan getting closer and I know he’s going to kill me.
As I run past the Haunted House I notice a door is ajar. I pull it open and go inside. It’s pitch black and I move through the corridors by feeling with my hands, searching for a nook to hide in. The attraction is running and loud moans and screams are playing over and over, blasting through the speakers. At every corner something mechanical jumps out and I scream and back away, trying to find a safe spot to crawl into. I’m pressed against the wall, inching through the darkness when I feel long, cold fingers encircle my throat. “Did you think you could get away?” whispers Avestan, his mouth close to my ear. I scream as he squeezes tighter and tighter until I can no longer make a sound. He drags me through the exit door and throws me onto the pavement. I lay there, wheezing and pawing at my throat as I try to gulp in air.
Alexander appears and I run over, sobbing as I throw my arms around him. He steps back, pushing me away, and that’s when I notice the tall, exquisite-looking blonde standing next to him. The same girl I saw waiting for him in the school parking lot. She laughs and says I was a fool to think Alexander ever loved me. Then she leans over and they kiss—a deep, long kiss. They walk away, laughing, their arms around each other. Avestan strides over, laces his fingers around my throat and starts to squeeze.
Waking brings a gasp of relief but also pain as the events of last night come rushing back. My alarm is going off but I’m not ready to let the cruel reality of what I have to do seep fully into my consciousness yet. I turn the alarm off and pull the covers over my head to try to go back to sleep. Another nightmare is preferable to what I have ahead of me.
Twenty minutes later my mom knocks softly and pokes her head around the door. “Declan, you okay? If you don’t get up now, you’ll be late for school.”
“I’m not feeling so good, mom,” I mumble with the covers over my head, “I think I’ll go in late, if that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay if you’re not feeling well, sweetie.” She sounds worried. “Let me take your temperature.”
My mom and I never take sick days so I know how concerned she must be. “The Jane’s have fierce immune systems,” she always says. She leaves to get the thermometer and comes back to sit on the side of my bed. She tugs on the covers I’m holding and I slowly lower them down. I can feel how horribly puffy and red my eyes are.
“Declan, you’ve been crying! What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Alexander and I just got into a fight,” I lie. “I’ll be okay in a little while. I just don’t feel well now.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
I
shake my head, looking miserable.
“You sure? I’m here to listen.”
My eyes brim with tears as she strokes my forehead.
“You know,” she says softly, “relationships can be hard sometimes. But you and Alexander seem very well matched … I’m sure it will all work out.” I can tell she’s trying to sound hopeful. “Let’s take your temperature, though, just in case it’s something more.”
She places the digital thermometer under my tongue and I close my mouth to hold it in place. As we wait she continues to stroke my forehead gently. A tear escapes my eye and trails down the side of my face, pooling onto the pillow as I gaze back at her. If only my mom could make it all better like she used to when I was a kid.
The thermometer beeps and she pulls it out to read the result. “Ninety-eight point six on the dot. Well, at least you don’t have a fever.”
A raging fever would be preferable to how I’m feeling.
“Do you want me to stay home from work this morning? I could make you some breakfast and bring it up to you.”
The last thing I want is food. “Thanks, mom, but I wouldn’t be able to eat it. I’ll be ready to go to school in a little while. I just need some extra time to pull myself together.”
“Okay. If you’re sure …” she sounds hesitant. “I’ll let the school know you’ll be in late. But call me any time today and I’ll come home if you need me, okay? Everyone deserves a mental health day now and then.”
“Okay,” I smile weakly, “I love you, mom.”
She leans over and hugs me tightly for a long time. “I love you too, sweetie. So much. I’m so sorry this happened.”
After my mom leaves for work, I lay in bed going over and over in my mind what I have to do. My hope is that repeating it incessantly will anesthetize me to the pain when I actually have to speak the words to Alexander. I know I can’t show my true feelings or he’ll never be convinced. I’m not sure I can do it, but according to Edwin I have no choice: Alexander’s life depends on it.
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