A Soul's Kiss (21 page)

Hannah

Tuesday after school

I was worn out from wrestling with Jessica all day. Back and forth, back and forth. We tussled for control like my little sisters fought for attention. Exhausted, I gave in when Rashanda arrived at the sports wing. We followed Rashanda into the girls’ locker room and changed into our suits. Rashanda introduced me to Ms. Harris who was cool with me swimming this one time. I let Jessica up to do all the talking. And swimming.

I don’t know why I trusted her to keep us from drowning. I knew she was a good swimmer, but there was no guarantee that my body would respond the way it should and stay afloat. Something about her personality, which I knew all too well after the last couple of days, gave me faith. I wanted to keep calling her a phony and a boyfriend stealer and every negative thing I could think of, but the truth was none of those labels described her.

I even had confidence in her friend, Rashanda, though I couldn’t imagine why she’d be nice to me after the prank we pulled on her. I’m sure she knows I was in on it. As long as she swam next to me, us, then I felt safe in the pool.

Jessica made me dive in, toes pointed, hands straight over my head. The warm water smoothed itself over my skin without a splash and then Jessica moved my arms and opened my eyes under water. We could have made it to the other end if I hadn’t tried to pull back control. We surfaced and I sucked in all the air my lungs could hold. She wasn’t going to let me drown. It was the most wonderful and weird feeling to trust someone that you were afraid to trust.

We swam up and down the lanes in several different styles, arms and legs stroking and kicking in a rhythm that was extraordinary. Like a dance.

The hour in the water went too quickly.

And then Jessica disappeared. She’d been scolding me. Arguing about values or some such nonsense. Choosing to be happy. Stupid lecture. I tuned out and she flew out.

She just left me.

In the deep end.

When she vanished, I whipped the water hard to keep my head up. How had she done it? How did she make my body drift and glide and hang in the water without this awful churning?

I hated her. Why had I trusted her?

There. There she was. I saw her spread eagle on the diving board several feet high above me. Her hair hung down, not even wet, and our eyes locked. She seemed surprised that I could see her. She was out of me. At last. Just what I wanted.

I beat the water.

Save me!

Jessica

My biggest fear is dying some horrible fiery death. I hope I go in my sleep—and that seems a real possibility now that I’m rotting in a coma—but I’ve never considered death by drowning. I learned to swim before I could walk. Watching Hannah’s panicked face, flailing arms, and splashing horror strikes me as hysterical and surreal. It would not be a gentle way to die.

I want to look away, move, fly off this diving board and go back to the hospital. I am free of Hannah, but Hannah’s eyes hold mine.

She sees me.

How can she see me? I look at all the other girls bobbing, porpoising, twirling one last time and spot Rashanda. I try shouting to her, to anyone, maybe they can hear me or see me. Rashanda splashes a handful of water at Becca then spins around at my voice. I leap to my feet and bounce on the diving board, pointing down at Hannah. Rashanda scans the pool, doesn’t see me springing, in fact the board isn’t even quivering. I am invisible.

And then Hannah sinks. The thrashing stops. Her head stays tilted up toward me and her eyes, still seeing, do not close as she drops under the surface. Everyone else is swimming away toward the ladders. Rashanda and Becca look back and laugh at the diminishing bubbles that only I know mean Hannah is in trouble.

I’ve been trapped in her body for four days and now that I’m free the last place I want to go is back into Hannah’s head.

Her lips move and I can read them as plainly as I could see Kayla’s pleading words in our impromptu skit. Last week. In drama class.

Save me.

Hannah

We showered and dried off. Becca was kind enough to share some lotion with me.

“Loved your imitation of drowning,” she said.

“Yeah,” Rashanda chimed in, “what was that all about? Sudden panic attack?” She waited for a reply. I couldn’t think of any.

I handed off to Jessica, “Just seeing if any of you have had life saving class yet.” We laughed and it sounded more like her than me.

I was grateful that she had decided to be an angel. She had floated down, touched her forehead to mine, dissolved into me and moved me upwards. We had surfaced like a dolphin. She spat out the water I should have choked on and kicked us to the edge.

*  *  *

What now?
I asked her when we were alone in my bedroom.
Can you get out again?

Maybe. It happened so quickly that I don’t know what I did or how I left.

Well, how did you come back?

You know how I did it.

You floated down. Your forehead touched mine. I let you in. But why did you come back?

You were drowning. Nobody else was coming to your rescue. I couldn’t let you die. Besides, you owe me something.

My boyfriend?

Just, you know, just one of his kisses. Just one. Then maybe I’ll remember how I got out.

Michael

Tuesday evening

I had a mountain of homework and Hannah wanted me to come over. Just for a kiss, she said. Not motivation enough, sweetheart.

Then I got to thinking. Girls were hard to figure out sometimes, but maybe she meant something more than a kiss. I could go for that.

My parents were pretty lax with me now that I was a senior. Being the youngest son had its perks. The curfews, even on school nights, were pretty much non-existent.

I drove without thinking much. I could go crazy if I thought about things. All the football plays I memorized. The music for band. The marching formations. The new play in drama class. Too many things crowded for space in my head. The accident wasn’t one of them. Until I passed the little shrine of remembrances piled on the side of the road. What was with people? It wasn’t as if anyone died. My headlights flashed over some silvery ribbons on teddy bears. Two seconds and I was past the site.

Then I couldn’t think of anything but the accident. Stupid Keith. He wasn’t even one of my friends. Some of my buddies were asking me about that. Why would I be hanging out with him, they wanted to know.

I hung a left onto Hannah’s street and slowed up. Some jerk was driving like a geezer, maybe looking for an address. The houses were easily identified, large numbers on mailboxes and front porches. Some even had their addresses engraved on large boulders positioned to protect their mailboxes from those rascal teens, like me and my friends, who liked to take out a random box after a football game loss.

The jerk’s headlights and mine fanned over several yards decorated with tombstones, witches, and ghosts. Two weeks till Halloween. Less till Homecoming. You needed a costume for both. Stupid.

I tailgated the human snail to Hannah’s house where he slowed even more. Every light was on in their house. I punched the steering wheel in frustration. Hannah’s whole family was home.

The car ahead of me pulled close to the curb, expecting me to go around him. But he was where I wanted to park. What the—? My lights outlined a guy with a ball cap in the driver’s seat.

He pressed his gas pedal and lurched away, letting me pull into the spot directly next to the stone path that led to Hannah’s front door.

I got out and watched the jerk park again several houses down. Must be lost. Idiot.

I didn’t give him another thought as I walked up the pumpkin lined path.

“Hi, is Hannah home?”

“Sure, come on in, Mike,” Hannah’s dad slurred his words and I didn’t correct him on my name. He reeked of smoke and booze. He turned and yelled for Hannah. I heard their TV, loud at the back of their house, competing with equally loud music coming from upstairs, and some pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. Hannah’s house always had more noise going on than my house. I didn’t like it.

Hannah appeared at the top of the stairs and waved me up. “Come on to my room.”

“Oh, no, no,” her dad put his hand on the banister, “that’s not such a good idea. You kids can go into the family room.” He swayed in that direction, slowing down his pronunciation of each word. “You come down, Hannie.”

I studied the way she stomped down the steps, the expression on her face far from cheery. She reached the last step as her dad stumbled away down the hall and she spoke to his back, “We’ll be back in a little while, dad. Michael is gonna take me out for ice cream.” He didn’t respond and I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, pulling a jacket from the closet. “Quick. If Hillary and Heather heard me say ice cream they’ll want to tag along.”

I picked up one of the smaller pumpkins on the way down the walk. When I got to the driver’s side, the car that was parked up the street turned its lights on and started up. Peeping tom? Pervert? I launched the pumpkin at his taillights as he drove off. The pumpkin smashed a few feet short of my mark.

“Why’d you do that?” Hannah’s voice was strangely cheerful.

“Why’d I do what?” I buckled up and revved the engine. I gave her a quick glance, intending to peel out before she got her seat belt on, but something in her expression made me freeze. “What? The pumpkin? Was it your favorite one?” Her eyes shined in the dark like jack-o-lanterns, her mouth pressing out a grimace. She leaned toward me.

“Hi, Michael.”

That was one ditsy blonde. “What’s wrong with you, Hannah?”

“Nothing.” She leaned back. “Where are we going?”

“Uh, ice cream, remember? It was your idea.”

She visibly shivered and pulled the belt across her tits. That gave me a better idea.

We drove in silence all the way to the park. I felt her staring at me the whole time. Now she finally looked around at where we were parking, needle-bare pine boughs snapping off as they slapped the windshield. I swear she should be in drama class. The expressions she comes up with—she acted like she’d never been to our little make-out spot before. Cute innocence.

“It’s probably too cold in the hut. We can stay in the car,” I said, cranking up the heater to give her some warmth before I turned the engine off.

Anxious frown?

Funny how she reminded me of coma-girl. I put my arm around her as another car crunched down the gravel road behind us.

I turned the key off. The darkness hid Hannah’s face. The weirdest thought jumped to mind: what would it be like to kiss a girl in a coma?