Brightest Kind of Darkness

by P. T. Michelle

  “Inara, I know you’re hurt and I’m sorry. Your father is doing what’s right for you. He’d be furious that I even said anything, but I thought you deserved the truth.”

  What’s right for me? I didn’t want to hear any more. I stood up quickly, the chair scraping behind me. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, ‘I no longer have my dreams’.”

  I stalked out of the kitchen and scooped up my jacket and keys.

  “Inara, please stay and eat.” Aunt Sage stood in the kitchen doorway. “I’m sorry I upset you. I don’t want you to drive home all worked up. I wish I’d—” she paused, opening and closing her hands by her sides.

  “What?” I grabbed up the notes I’d taken. “You wish you’d told me the truth when I first mentioned my powers?” Her hurt expression told me how bratty I sounded. I exhaled a breath of guilt. I was being unfair to her. Secrets aside, my aunt had always been there for me. My dad was behind this. Hurting me all over again. “You did the right thing for me by telling me the truth. If Mom doesn’t know about Dad, it sounds like he’s always kept secrets from those he supposedly loved.” Opening the door, I said, “As far as I’m concerned, he can keep his secrets.”

  “He was only trying to…Inara,” she called after me.

  Warm tears slipped down my cheeks and I angrily brushed them away as I walked to my car. I was glad it was dark so my aunt couldn’t see my damp face when I turned toward the porch. “Tell him never to contact us again. He didn’t see Mom fall apart when he tried to call our house a few weeks ago.”

  Aunt Sage looked stunned. “He talked to Elizabeth?”

  “No, I made sure he never got through. After I saw Mom’s reaction to his call in my dream, I blocked all unsolicited calls.”

  I straightened my spine. “I want him to stay out of our lives. He gave up his right to speak to me—to us—the day he bailed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  On my way home, I stopped by the grocery store’s video rental kiosk to give my puffy, red eyes a chance to clear. I rented a romantic comedy—an older one I hadn’t seen. Mom never watched movies with me, so I knew that’d be a good excuse to go straight to my room and watch it on my laptop. As I drove home, sadness made my chest ache. I felt like I’d lost my aunt—the one person I ran to when I needed a shoulder to lean on. Why couldn’t I have that with my mom? Pulling into the driveway, I glanced at the video and desperately wished Mom and I had a family movie night. It sounded so cliché, but I couldn’t think of a nicer cheesy tradition.

  When I walked in, Mom lowered the newspaper and waved from the couch. I started up the stairs, already wondering where my headphones were, when I decided it couldn’t hurt to ask. “I—uh, rented a movie. Would you like to watch it with me?”

  Mom closed the paper. “Sure, as long as it’s not one of those slasher movies.”

  Surprised she agreed, I laughed and said, “No worries there,” then walked over to the DVD player to slip in the movie.

  Pushing the Play button, I sat beside my mom and waited for the movie to start. When English subtitles came up and the actors began speaking in Spanish, I jumped up, saying, “I forgot this movie is subtitled. It has an English version too.”

  As I hunted around for the remote, Mom stared at the screen. “I really could use some Spanish lessons. Several of our sites have Spanish speaking employees.”

  Finding the remote in the end table drawer, I met her thoughtful gaze. “Mr. Dixon teaches outside classes. I’ll bet you could get him to tutor you.”

  Mom shook her head. “This would be business-type conversations, finances and such, Inara. Not, ‘I’d like two beers, please.’”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know that. Mr. Dixon mentioned that he sometimes teaches Business Spanish at the community college.”

  She looked thoughtful. “That’s something to consider.”

  Clicking the menu, I changed the settings to English and sat down beside her. “Let me know and I’ll get you his info.” I couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Mr. Dixon had thanked me for bringing my mom to the dinner. Twice. Then he’d casually suggested making it a quarterly event. Of course, the class shot that idea down faster than a row of carnival ducks.

  Mom pointed to the remote. “Hit Play. I’m ready to watch.”

  By the end of the movie, the boy got the girl (like Ethan and me), and the girl and her mother had worked through their strained, screwball relationship, making me wish life could fully imitate art.

  I’d taken the DVD out and put it away, when I decided I had nothing to lose. Walking behind the sofa, I dropped a quick kiss on my mom’s cheek and then immediately jogged up the stairs, calling behind me, “Night, Mom. Thanks for watching the movie with me.”

  “Night,” I heard her say in a soft voice. Peeking through the banister railings, I was surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes, and she was touching her cheek where I’d kissed her.

  Why hadn’t I tried that years ago? Feeling elated, I tiptoed the rest of the way to my room.

  As soon as I got to my room, I pulled out my cell phone and erased the second text message from my dad, then shredded the piece of paper where I’d written the phone number down from my dream. We had a chance to move forward. I wasn’t letting Dad mess Mom and me up. Not now. Not ever.

  Where was Ethan? I was so disappointed when I didn’t see him at his locker on Monday morning. I really wanted to talk to him about my dad. Was he as surprised as I was? Since Ethan would’ve dreamed my entire Sunday while camping, he would know exactly what was said between my aunt and me.

  The school day dragged. During each class period, I literally hung on the edge of my chair, ready to pounce the moment the bell rang. I’d seen Ethan ahead of me in the hall a couple of times, but he must’ve not seen me or he would’ve slowed down and waited.

  By the time fourth period was almost over, I was wound so tight, Mrs. Bose stopped in the middle of her lecture and asked in a snotty voice, “Do you have somewhere more important to be, Miss Collins?” I’d never been very good at subtlety.

  When I saw Ethan tossing books into his locker and then grabbing another set, I leaned against my locker and tried to act casual, despite the bundle of nerves squirming in my stomach. “How was the camping trip?”

  Ethan’s eyes were bluer than usual against his darkly tanned face. The few days’ scuff on his jaw only made him even more drool-worthy. God, he had no idea how incredibly good-looking he was.

  “Hey.” He grinned and for a second I wondered if he’d read my mind, but then sympathy flickered through his eyes. “That was a rough day with your aunt, huh?”

  I hugged my books to my chest. “You saw my reaction.”

  He shut his locker. “Yeah, I did. I’ve gotta go, but we can talk about it in study hall if you want.”

  I swallowed the tight knot in my throat. “I do.”

  Ethan raised his fingers toward my hair and the bell rang. Dropping his hand, he looked regretful. “See you later.”

  I watched him stroll down the hall and my chest tightened with sudden concern. His split lip had healed, but I noticed the shadows under his eyes and tension around his mouth before he’d walked away. What was wrong?

  Ethan was sitting in our spot in the far right corner when I walked in study hall. I set my books on the table and moved my chair closer to his. “You’re early today.”

  Sliding his chair back, he folded his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out underneath the table. “Mr. Walker asked me to drop something off at the office, so I got to leave class before the bell.”

  He really did look tired. “Did you stay up late every night during your camping trip?”

  “No, we went to bed early. My brother likes to hike until he’s dead tired. We logged eight-mile hikes each day, then camped. Of course, each morning he got me up at the crack of dawn to start the torture all over again.” Ethan snorted, then winced as he bent his knees.

  “A bit sore?” I teased, reaching out to touch his th
igh.

  He immediately sat up and his leg shifted out of my reach. “I’ll live. Let’s talk about Sunday.”

  I furrowed my brow, uncertain if I’d just imagined that he’d sat up to purposefully pull away from me or if I was being paranoid. “That wasn’t a fun scene.”

  Setting his elbows on the table, Ethan steepled his fingers and pressed them against his mouth. “I know it bothers you that you’re just now finding out about your dad, but look at it this way, Nara, it’s got to feel good to know you’re not alone.”

  “I don’t feel alone,” I said and then it hit me where he was coming from. “And you shouldn’t either. We have each other—” I started to touch his hand, but he quickly moved it under the table. My stomach dropped. “Why do you keep pulling away from me? I’m not imagining it.”

  Ethan blew out a breath. “Being up in the mountains gave me time to think about everything. Since things kept happening that I couldn’t predict from your dreams, I think it’s best if you get your dreams back.”

  A heavy weight thumped against my chest. “Are—are you saying you don’t want to see me any more?”

  His jaw clenched and his hand fisted on the table. “No, Nara. I just think it’s best if two of us are seeing your dreams. If we spend time together, I’ll still share your dreams like I did before, but…” His gaze skimmed my hair, my face, then lingered on my lips, before he finished,” I can’t touch you any more.”

  You’re having your first real nightmare. Wake up! Wake up! I dug my short fingernails into my palms. The pain came, radiating up my arms, but nothing changed. Ethan was still staring at me with his steely, determined gaze. “I don’t—” I choked and blinked to hold back tears. “I don’t know—”

  “Nara…” Sadness reflected in his eyes. He started to lift his hand toward my face, but curled his fingers inward and set a tight fist on the table. “I don’t like it either, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because I’d stolen your dreams.”

  There had to be another way. I couldn’t imagine spending time with Ethan and not being able to touch him. Ever. Again. “Maybe I need a dragon tattoo.”

  Amusement flickered, but he shook his head. “You’ve been given your powers for a reason,” he said quietly.

  “I inherited them,” I said in a flat tone. “And what about your powers? Do you believe you have them for a reason?”

  His expression hardened. “That’s not fair. This isn’t a gift. It’s a curse,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, instinctively reaching for him. Catching myself, I jerked my hand back, then grabbed my books and stood. I needed to get out of there before I started to cry. “I have to do some research in the library,” I said, then turned and walked out.

  I found an empty seat in the back corner of the library and sat there rubbing my temples so I wouldn’t cry. After all we’d been through, I couldn’t believe what Ethan had just done. Didn’t he know it broke my heart? I pictured the sadness in his eyes and hunched my shoulders, letting the tears fall. He was right.

  He has an inner strength that’s amazing to see in someone so young. Aunt Sage’s comment about Ethan floated through my mind. He always tried to do what was right by me, regardless of his own feelings. Why was that fact so easy to forget?

  Because you’d wanted to work up the courage to tell him how you feel about him and now you’re scared you lost your chance.

  At the end of the day, I was so relieved to see Ethan leaning against my car, my eyes instantly misted. The determined set of his jaw told me he hadn’t given up on me. I loved him even more for his belief in us. I’d worn the peach sunglasses he’d given me, hoping he’d know we were all right. I blinked away the moisture and dug into my backpack as I approached.

  Stopping a couple feet away, my hand shook as I held the folded piece of paper out to him. “You probably saw all the research I did on the meaning of feathers, but I thought you might like the information compiled in one place.” I gave a tentative smile when Ethan took the paper and unfolded it.

  “Thanks for doing this,” he said quietly. Scanning the contents, his brow creased and he pointed to a website address I’d added at the end. “What’s this? This website wasn’t something I remember you finding in your aunt’s books.”

  “I thought you saw my entire day,” I said with a smug half-smile.

  “I usually do, except when my brother interrupts my normal sleep pattern to ‘get an early start on the day’.”

  I was pleased to share something new with him. “I found an old posting from a couple years ago on a message board, asking about the significance of a feather tattoo on a shoulder blade.” I shrugged. “Though this person’s wasn’t exactly the same as yours, since they mentioned a fully inked feather, not just the outline of one.”

  The paper crumpled in his hand. “You mean like this?” Jerking his jacket and shirt down, he turned so I could see his shoulder.

  I gasped and my stomach bottomed out. The feather was now completely filled in, except for an area along the middle. There, purple and green colors merged together, like the shimmer of light reflecting on an otherwise pitch-black feather.

  “I don’t understand. How—how’d this happen? You were in the mountains with your brother, right?”

  He folded the piece of paper and shoved it in his jeans’ pocket. Jaw clenched, he stared at the mostly empty parking lot. “When I left for the mountains, it wasn’t filled in,” he paused, his blue eyes sharpening. “I have no idea how this happened, but I’m going to find out.”

  Worry tightened my chest. “Have you told your brother about the feather?”

  His focus snapped back to me. “Other than you, Samson’s the only one who’s on my side. The difference is, he doesn’t really get what’s going on with me. You do, Nara. Do you really think he’d understand a tattoo appearing from nowhere and then, in a matter of a few days, filling itself in?”

  “Show it to him and explain. He’s your brother, Ethan,” I said in an upbeat tone. Ethan’s stubborn look dashed my hope that he would tell his brother anything.

  The creases were back, making deep grooves around his mouth. “Telling Samson might put him over the edge. I need his support. I can’t lose that.”

  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, but I knew he wouldn’t let me. “What are you going to do?”

  “More research.”

  Research didn’t sound so bad. “I’ve scoured the net, but let me know if you find anything.” I stared at him, still a bit worried. “Are you…okay? About the feather, I mean?”

  “I have to be okay with it.”

  “Does it hurt at all?”

  “Only where I scrubbed my skin trying to get rid of it.” He gave a grim look. “It’s there to stay.”

  With a sigh, I turned and opened my trunk. As I retrieved my soccer bag for practice, Ethan said, “I’ve been thinking about something your aunt said about your dad.”

  Tugging the soccer bag onto my shoulder, I slammed my trunk harder than I’d meant to. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Just listen.”

  I faced him, arms crossed. “Fine.”

  Ethan ran his hand through his hair. “While I was laying there staring at the stars, something your aunt said kept bothering me. She said your father only tried to contact you once he’d learned you had his powers and had lost them, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Remember, I’d been seeing your dreams for a while before we officially met.”

  Where was he going with this? “And?”

  Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, looking puzzled. “If your aunt was telling the truth, then why did your father try to call your house that day a few weeks ago? That was before you told your aunt you had the ability to see your future through your dreams.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I didn’t have an answer. “Now that I think about it, Aunt Sage had seemed surprised to lea
rn my dad would’ve called our house if I hadn’t blocked his call.”

  “Do you remember what he said to your mother in your dream?”

  “I only heard Mom’s responses.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember. “She said, ‘Inara’s here. She’s fine.’ And then she paused and said, ‘She’s perfectly safe’. I assumed that he called to ask about me once he’d seen the bomb threat on the news.”

  “Yeah, that would’ve been the day after you called in the school bombing.”

  I gripped my soccer bag’s strap. “So what’s bothering you?”

  Instead of answering, Ethan asked another question. “When you dream your entire day, how do you see it? Do you see yourself like you’re starring in a movie?”

  I’d never thought about how I saw my dreams. “No, it’s not like that. I see everything from my point-of-view. I don’t see myself. Do you see something different?”

  “Yeah, it’s like I’m watching a movie and you’re starring in it.”

  I had no idea Ethan was seeing my dreams from another perspective. “What does that have to do with my dad?”

  “Because I heard what your dad said to your mom, Nara. He said, ‘Elizabeth, I know I’m the last person you want to hear from. Inara is special and her safety’s of the utmost importance. Can I please speak to her?’ Maybe he was calling because he wondered if you’d been the one to call it in.”

  My pulse whooshed in my ears. “You think my dad knew that I called the bombing in because of my dreams?”

  Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know for sure, but putting what he said together with the timing of his call—right after the bombing incident was averted at school—and then the fact your aunt said he’d paid the highest price for interfering, it just got me wondering.” His blue eyes focused on me. “Maybe you should talk to him. Find out all you can about your powers.”