Down a Lost Road (43 page)

Suddenly I felt awkward. For a moment I
couldn’t remember why I had wanted to talk to him. Maybe I hadn’t.
Maybe I’d just wanted to get away from handsy Eddie. I crossed my
arms and stared at the ground.

“
Can’t believe you got a
laugh out of Sergeant Beck,” Damian said finally. “Unreal. What was
that about, anyway?”

I felt myself blush. “Don’t know if I could
tell you.”

He smiled and nodded. For a while we both
stood silent, facing the lush green lawn and waving palms.

Then Damian slanted a glance at me and
asked, “So what do you think of Eddie? I know he’s kind of crazy,
but...”

“
What about
him?”

“
Geez, Mer, I just asked
what you thought of him. I meant what I said earlier. He’s like a
brother to me. I’d hoped you would like him too.”

“
I like him just fine,” I
said, avoiding his stern gaze. “He’s great. I love him already.
Hugs all around.”

Damian’s breath hissed out and he made a
little quarter-turn on his heel to stare at the fountain. He didn’t
say a word. And somehow, seeing him so in control of himself, not
rising to my bait, really annoyed me. It was like he was suddenly
older and stronger and smarter than me, leaving me behind like the
pathetic whiny teenager I knew I was being. I shoved my hands in my
pockets and scuffed my shoe on the stones.

“
I’m sure he’s great,” I
finally offered. “It just kind of creeps me out that he’s always
touching me. I’m not a touchy-feely kind of girl, D. Sometimes I
just want to be left alone.”

“
That’s what you’ve been
saying for the last year. I don’t like seeing you like this, Mer. I
want you to be happy. I thought maybe he would be different. Stupid
me, I guess.”

I clutched his arm, burying my head against
his shoulder. “I don’t want to argue about it.” I shuddered.
“Damian, I thought I heard him.”

“
What? Who,
Eddie?”

“
No.” I could feel the
burning tears at the back of my throat.
Don’t cry…not now.
I
cleared my throat and managed to whisper, “Yatol.”

He took one step back and stared at me. I
knew why it surprised him. I hadn’t said that name since the day we
came home.

“
Earlier, when you hugged
Eddie?”

He actually believed me? My heart leapt, but
then I saw his face. Stern, disapproving, skeptical. With him
watching me that way I couldn’t speak, so I just shrugged and
nodded.

“
I’m sorry,” he said. “I
know it’s tough letting go of memories like that. There were times
after Dad disappeared that I could have sworn I heard him calling
me down to supper. It happens. It hurts, but it’ll go
away.”

“
I wasn’t imagining
it!”

“
Mer…you have to let him
go.”

He could have stabbed me in the heart with
an unsharpened pencil and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as those
words. It took every ounce of will to force back the tears.
I
can’t let him go. Don’t want to.
But I buried the anger and all
the grief with a quick shake of my head, and turned back to the
restaurant.

“
Never mind. I should’ve
guessed you wouldn’t understand.”

“
Mer—”

“
Forget I brought it up.
Come on, everyone’s probably waiting on us.”

He grabbed me by the arm before I reached
the building. For a moment he just studied me, so sad, all the
strength and fire gone from his gaze.

“
I don’t want this hanging
over us tomorrow,” he said. “I need you, sis. I need you with me.
God knows you got me through boot camp. Don’t walk out on me
now.”

“
I would never,” I gasped,
hugging him fiercely. “I’m so sorry, D.”

“
Okay,” he said with a firm
nod. “We’ll put it behind us, forget all about it. Come on, I’m
starving. Swear I haven’t had a real meal in three
months!”

I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as
I trailed after him.

* * *

The rest of Family Day flew by. We wandered
around the base, went shopping, ate ice cream and got sunburned.
Eddie toned down during the afternoon, but as soon as it came time
for the recruits to return to their barracks, he was back to
hugging me and doing his best to charm me with his wide warm smile.
It was a really nice smile. I almost found myself blushing when he
flashed me that big grin with a “good night.”

Darcy was all over it when we got back to
our rooms. Even Maggie joined in, and then I couldn’t do anything
to make them shut up about it. Finally I resorted to going to bed,
way earlier than I’m used to, just to make them leave me alone. I
woke up feeling cross, and that made me angry at myself on top of
it all because I wanted to be happy for Damian.

Graduation passed in a whirlwind. The band
played as the platoons marched out onto the parade deck, rows on
rows of white hats and blue and khaki uniforms. Mom and Maggie
could have single-handedly kept Kleenex in business. Even Darcy
cried when Damian’s platoon stopped in front of our section of the
bleachers. I almost did too. Part of me wished I could.

Then, almost before I realized what had
happened, the Marines all turned sharply amid a cacophony of cheers
and applause, and their lines dissolved as they shook hands and
said their goodbyes to each other. It was over. Damian was a
Marine. And I couldn’t have been prouder.

We waited on the perimeter of the parade
deck until Damian made his way over to us. Somehow I’d almost hoped
that Eddie would have said his goodbyes already and gone on his
way, but there he was, trailing about ten feet behind Damian. He
looked so happy, though, I couldn’t resent him. I even voluntarily
gave him a hug while everyone else was hugging each other. It
seemed like the thing to do. Darcy arched her brows meaningfully at
me when she saw, but I only scowled and turned away.

We decided to have dinner all together
before heading our separate ways. Most of the new Marines left in
the early afternoon, but I could tell the decision had more to do
with Eddie than the charm of San Diego. Dad went with Damian and
Eddie to track down their bags and stow them in the rental car,
leaving us girls waiting by the slowly clearing parade deck. Then
Mom and Maggie left to do something – I wasn’t even paying enough
attention to hear what – leaving just Darcy and me.

I sat on the bleachers, eyes closed. For not
having shed a tear, my head ached like I had been sobbing for
hours. For a while Darcy sat quietly beside me, apparently content
to let me suffer out the pain in peace and quiet.

Then, “Why don’t you like Eddie?”

I wanted to scream. “I’d like him a lot
better if people stopped asking me about him,” I snapped.

I clamped my mouth shut and glared down at
the ridiculous sundress Darcy had made me wear. After a minute I
vented my frustration on the hem of the frilly skirt, violently
tugging it straight. I really wasn’t a dress kind of girl. I have
no idea what possessed me to let Darcy talk me into buying the
thing. She looked like a doll in anything with pink or flowers or
frills anywhere on it, and knew how to take advantage of it. I
mentally grumbled that I’d rather be in Damian’s cammies than this
get-up. Maybe that would make the Latin Lover keep his hands to
himself.

Darcy frowned, surveying me incredulously.
“Who else was asking about him?”

“
Damian,” I muttered. “We
kind of argued about it yesterday.”

“
You and Damian were
arguing?” she gasped. “Oh my God, Lin-Lin, really?”

I glowered at my hands. “I don’t know what
the big deal is. Why should I have to like him if I don’t want to?
He’s great, sure, but he’s so…” I wiggled my fingers at her as if
that could explain. “It creeps me out.”

Darcy laughed, burying her golden head in
her hands. “Wow. You guys were fighting over
that
? You never
fight.”

“
It’s idiotic.”

“
Yeah it is. You know
Damian just worries about you, that’s all. He wants you to be
happy. You wear this perfect little Merelin mask but it’s like,
helloooo, are you in there anywhere?”

“
What?”

“
You know you haven’t been
the same since last summer. You didn’t go to
prom
. I mean,
what the—? Prom? And now you’ve got this drop-dead gorgeous Marine
following you around like a puppy and you treat him
like—”

“
I don’t want to talk about
it.”

“
You never do! That’s the
problem. If you’re still angsting over that guy who broke your
heart, I’ll hunt him down and slap him halfway to
Pluto.”

I made some kind of grimacing noise in
reply, half laugh, half sob. How could something be so funny and so
painful at the same time? But Darcy couldn’t understand that. I had
never really told her about Yatol, just that there was a guy I had
cared about, and that my heart had broken. She inferred all the
rest on her own. Darcy was my best girlfriend, but there were still
things you didn’t spill. This was one of them. Four people on Earth
besides me knew about Yatol, but they never mentioned him.
Sometimes it felt like they’d all forgotten Arah Byen had ever
happened.

“
You don’t understand,” I
finally managed to reply. “It wasn’t like that.”

“
What? Did he or didn’t he
break your heart?”

“
He
died
, Darcy!
That’s how my heart broke. He died!”

She just stared at me, mouth in a little O
of shock, two faint lines between her brows. After a minute she put
her hand on my shoulder.

“
Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.
I had no idea.”

I shrugged, plucking the hem of the dress
again. “It was last year. Doesn’t matter any more.”

“
Mer,” she said. Unlike
everyone else in the world, she only called me Mer when she was
being totally serious. “I don’t want to sound harsh, sweetie, but
if he’s…
dead
…you really can’t go on like this. You have to
let him go.”

Were she and Damian on the same brainwave
now?

“
Hey, there’s my
girl!”

Fantastic. Just when I thought my afternoon
couldn’t get any worse, here came Eduardo, jogging toward us. I
swung my head around to roll my eyes at Darcy, trying to hide
behind my hair. Eddie reached us, pouring out a stream of Spanish
that I could just tell was ill-disguised flattery. He jumped onto
the bleachers beside me, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

“
What’s wrong,
bella
?” More Spanish. Then came the shoulder scrunching, and
the staring into my eyes with deepest concern.

“
She has a headache,” Darcy
said.

I forced myself to my feet, wrenching out of
Eduardo’s grip. “Sorry, guys. I have to go get some water.” I
tapped my temple, adding, “It’s getting really bad.”

I muttered another “sorry” over my shoulder
as I slipped out of the bleachers. Somehow I found my way back to
the quarters where we’d been staying, grateful that my mom hadn’t
checked out yet. I let myself into the room I shared with Maggie
and Darcy and flopped down face-first on the bed.

The room was dark, the little space air
conditioner rattling quietly under the window. Not the most
glamorous of lodgings, but we’d been glad to get something on base.
Still, I was sick of it. I just wanted to go home. But home meant
getting ready for college, and college meant having to decide what
I wanted to do with my life. And no matter how I did the math,
going back to Arah Byen just didn’t figure into the possible
outcomes.

I’d asked my dad once if it was possible –
if I’d ever be able to go back. I didn’t get any kind of definite
answer from him. He just said that the link between our worlds was
no longer necessary. For a while that had been as a good as a
“Yes!” but as time dragged on and nothing changed, my optimism
shriveled up and died a sad lonely death. Why did things have to be
so difficult? How was I supposed to live with my heart cut straight
in two?

I rolled onto my back and sat up, glaring at
my reflection in the mirror across the room.

Enough of the melodrama
, she said.
Whine, whine, whine. Grow up. Nobody else gets a fairytale life,
so why should you?

She was glowering at me, just like I
deserved. Still, I wanted to chuck something the size of a small
dinosaur at the mirror. I escaped the disapproving stare by burying
my face in my hands.

“
You have forgotten
me.”

I jerked my head up, my gaze freezing on the
mirror.

Yatol. Right there. Right behind me.

I leapt to my feet and spun around, staring
all around the room, tears streaming down my cheeks, heart
hammering. Empty. The room was devastatingly empty. The mirror was
empty too, besides me in my ridiculous dress, hair all a mess,
streaks of mascara under my eyes like some kind of lame perfume
commercial.

He was here.

I sank down in a puddle of fabric at the
foot of the bed, my whole body racked with sobs.
He’s dead
,
I kept telling myself.
You’re imagining it.
But I didn’t
want to believe it. My thoughts riveted on that image, that
briefest flash of an image, trying desperately to capture every
detail before its vividness began to fade.

Yatol, eyes radiant, fixed so sadly on me.
The dark cloak he’d worn the first day I’d seen him, the hood drawn
up. Hands held out, gripping the Blade of Heaven.

Then the image started fragmenting. Had he
been holding the knife, or were his hands buried in the cloak? Was
it his dark cloak, or the sand-hued one we had worn on our rescue
mission? Was he wounded? Was it really him?