Gifted, A Donovan Circus Novel (24 page)

“Or you’re just much more
powerful than I am,” he said matter-of-factly.

Startled, I changed the topic to
how he came to the Donovan Circus at eighteen, to his friendships with everyone
here. We even delved a little deeper, talked about what it was like for him to
grow up motherless while I talked about the time period after my father’s
death.

Somewhere in our conversation,
he changed the topic.

“Lucy, I don’t mean to be too
forward, but uh…I’d really like to kiss you again.”

I laughed a little. “You know,
I’m almost a little scared of what will happen, both of us being Firestarters
and all. We won’t catch my bed on fire or anything, will we?”

“This is the first time I
actually haven’t been worried I’d hurt a girl by accident,” he admitted. “I
guess you know as well as I do how hard it is not to burn someone when you’re
caught in the moment.”

“I haven’t had too many
opportunities, honestly. I was always too worried, so I never put myself out
there very much. But I guess with you, I don’t have to worry about any of that,
do I?”

“Nope. I can’t promise I won’t
catch your comforter on fire, but I’ll do my best.” He smiled at me, shifted
slightly to face me and leaned in.

The next hour before the
show…well, he was a great kisser.

Chapter
18

The next day, I tried to think
of any decent plan to clear my name. I even considered asking Brooklyn to read
people’s minds, but seeing as how that would be considered very rude, in
addition to the fact she kind of scared me, I nixed the idea. I tried to ask
Delia for advice, but then remembered that she knew these people. What if she
didn’t want to hear that someone she considered family might be framing me for
murder? When show time came, I carried what performers would let me, kept my
head down, and tried to stay out of the way. The less they paid attention to
me, the better.

Long after everyone was asleep
that night, I was in bed mindlessly flipping through a magazine when I heard a
soft knock at the door. I looked over at Delia; she was passed out in her bed,
hair splayed across her pillow. Not even one of Renata’s earthquakes would wake
her up right now. I quietly went to the door and cracked it open.

Gabriel stood in front of me,
crooking his forefinger. “Come outside.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“About what? I thought you told
me yesterday what you’d heard.”

“I did, but I thought about it
and wanted to talk to you more.”

I sighed and took another look
at Delia, who still showed no signs of waking, but opened the door. I shoved my
feet into sneakers and grabbed a sweatshirt. He stepped back as I slipped
outside and shut the door with a soft
click
.
I sat on the small wooden step in front of the door. I expected Gabriel to
stand or lean against the camper, but instead he sat down next to me. He pulled
his long legs up and put his arms over his knees. We sat so close our shoulders
touched. I looked up at the side of his face and noticed his very blue eyes. I
looked away to avoid staring.

“Tell me a secret,” Gabriel
said.

“What? No way. I thought you
wanted to talk.”

“This is talking. C’mon. You
already know my biggest one.”

“Which one, the Empath thing or
the Rehab part?”

“Okay, so you know two of my
biggest secrets. So tell me. There’s no way you could have anything as bad.”

I sighed. “I don’t really have
any.”

“Liar. It doesn’t have to be
some deep, dark one. Just something, anything to give me some idea of you.”

“What’s with the sudden desire
to be buddies?”

“I don’t know. It’s rare that
someone knows something so big about me and I barely know them. I think besides
my parents, you’re the only one.”

“And that bothers you?”

“I’m intrigued, is all. I’m not
usually compelled to speak of my past but I’m trying to turn a new leaf.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a
jerk the first few days you’re here and now you want to be known as the nice
guy? You may have already shut that door on yourself.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to be the
nice guy. New leaf.”

“And what does that even mean?”

“Maybe I’m taking your advice to
trust someone. But for that, I feel like I should know you more.”

“You think you can trust me?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,
Lucy. Prove that you know me well enough to trust me and vice versa.”

“We’ve barely been here long
enough for people to know us well.”

“For someone who accuses
me
of being a loner who avoids the
family circus, you don’t really open up about your own life.”

“That’s not true. I’ve told
Delia stuff. And Keegan lectured me yesterday about how I never ask for help.”

“You were with Keegan?” He shot
me a glance.

“Yeah, we hung out here in my
camper for a couple hours. Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. He
didn’t ask for the goods, did he?”

“Ugh, I can’t even begin to tell
you how much that is not your business. But before you go spreading rumors that
I’m some hoebag, no, I did not “give him the goods.” Geez, Gabriel.”

“So what was your response when
he told you to ask for more help?”

“That I’d try harder to ask for
it from him and our friends.”

“I see.” He looked down at the
ground.

“What?”

“It appears as though you don’t
trust me at all.”

I paused, even when I knew if he
saw, it would give him an opportunity to confirm his suspicions. Just as I
expected, he noticed the hesitation.

“So you don’t trust me.” His
voice fell flat.

“It’s not like that. I don’t
like feeling like I’m handing out ammunition.”

“You mean you think I’ll use it
against you later,” he responded. “No, I’m not the nicest guy and maybe I don’t
deserve it. But considering you knew something so big about me, I figured you’d
play the game. Since we’re here and all. I thought I could show you I don’t
hang around and stalk people or whatever you usually say.”

“My behavior isn’t entirely due
to mistrust. If I let myself get emotional, I get sloppy with my gift. It’s
difficult to control and if I slip, someone could get really hurt.”

“So you don’t trust yourself.”

“In a way, yeah.”

“You still don’t trust me
though, do you?” he asked.

“I think you’re making this a
bigger deal than it really is; I’m sure you’re plenty fun when you’re not being
all bizarre.”

“Why do you always hide behind
sarcasm? I understand it’s a defense mechanism, but it’s a bit much.”

“Um, hello, pot? I’m kettle.
We’re both black?” I waved at him a little to get my point across. He didn’t
miss it.

“Okay, so I do the same thing.
Yet here we are, with nothing gained.”

“Ugh,
fine
. Let me think…okay, when I was younger, I may have
accidentally stolen jewelry from a store. I didn’t mean to, but I had the
bracelet in my hands, got distracted trying it on, and walked out.”

“Did you return it?” His Spock
eyebrow appeared.

“I didn’t realize it was still
on my arm until we were almost back to the grounds. I wasn’t with my parents
and by then, it seemed like a lot of trouble.”

“A regular thief. You’re the
reason circus kids get a bad rap.”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“Relax. You didn’t even mean to;
I’m still unsurprised. It figures the one secret you have is something you have
extreme guilt over.”

“Well, it was like a hundred
years ago, so my guilt has been overcome.”

There was a minute of silence.
Gabriel cleared his throat and looked over at me. “So. Another weird question
for you.”

“Okay.”

“Can you cry?”

I shot him a questioning look.
“Yes, I can cry…”

“I guess I meant…
do
you cry?”

I looked down at my hands. “Not
often enough to be considered a habit or anything. Firestarters can cry,
though.”

“I didn’t really mean it in
regards to your gift. More like I wanted to know if you ever let yourself cry.
You’re like a brick wall.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment
coming from you, but yes, I have cried before and will probably cry in the
future. Do yourself a favor and don’t tell many people that. It’s a rare
occurrence.”

“Did you cry when your parents
died?”

“My dad, yes; only the first
couple of days though, because then I had to help my mom. We were so shocked
when it came out of nowhere. My mom’s death, I think I cried…honestly, I was in
such a numb, hazy state that I don’t recall every detail. The cool aunt may
have slipped me some pills.”

“What about since you’ve been
here?”

I met his unblinking gaze and
kept my head high. “I’m really happy here.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Curiosity.”

“I don’t break down into tears
or anything. Again, this doesn’t leave us and I have no idea why I’m even
telling you, but yes, the night you saved my life, I cried a little before I
even really knew what was happening. The night’s events hit me after I got into
bed and I couldn’t really stop it.”

“You say it like you’re
ashamed.”

“Do you go around admitting to
people that you cry?” I pointedly asked.

“I don’t cry.”

“Of course you don’t, you big,
strong man.”

“I think the last time I cried,
I was a little kid, trying to get over the whole Empath thing. Or maybe someone
else nearby was emotional, I don’t really remember.”

We sat in silence for a moment;
I watched my fingers drum and dance on my knees. When I felt brave enough to
look at Gabriel, I caught him looking at my hands, too. I took a deep breath.

“I have a question. Since we’re
playing this game and all,” I said.

He looked down at his hands.
“Okay. Shoot.”

“You said you’re an addict. What
happens when something like Marty’s murder happens?” I had wondered that since
he told me his gift.

“I feel it,” he said, shrugging.
“I can’t completely avoid it. The emotions are always just there, buzzing on
the surface. I focus on my own emotions—or lack thereof—and bring
it down to where it hardly bothers me. The day after they found Marty’s body
was tough. That amount of anger had me very uncomfortable. A prickly feeling,
like the one you get before something bad happens.”

“What about other times? Like
when it’s just me being irritated with you?”

“Nothing, really. Don’t worry,
it’s not that you’re not annoyed enough.” He smiled at me. “After all the
therapy and tricks I learned, it’s easy to block out one or two people. It’s
larger groups. I told you, I went to rehab for a year. The people there don’t
joke around about how to control your gift. I could really only affect your
emotions if I actually let myself.”

“Would you?”

“Rehab taught me that if I do
that, it really isn’t fair to you. I should act like a human being and let you
tell me how you feel. I shouldn’t be that selfish, or rude for that matter. But
to answer your question, I would if you asked me, or needed me to.”

“In what situation would I ever
need you to screw with my emotions?”

He shrugged. “You never know.”

“Do you ever worry you’re going
to revert back to how you acted before?”

“Not really. I’ve had it under
control for a few years now. It’s similar to how some people grow
up—during their teenage years, they’re hellions, whereas they grow up as
years pass. But when you’re gifted, your rebellion is usually more than
sneaking out of the house at night or ignoring a curfew. Even if you have a
passive gift, you do stupid things. Anyone’s at risk to go bad and hurt
someone.”

“I disagree.”

“Well, there’s a shock,” he said
with a roll of his eyes.

“A lot of people have
reservations about Firestarters, but I never acted crazy.”

“You’re a girl. There aren’t
that many Firestarters out there that are female, so you may be wired a little
differently. Girls
are
supposed to
think differently from us, right?”

I rolled my eyes back. “I think
I have as equal a playing field as Nikolas does when it comes to controlling
emotions. We both have tempers and he’s got a great offense in a fight.”

“You’re wrong. Nikolas can’t
control his emotions well. Neither can Keegan, for that matter. They’re
testosterone-fueled and it will always be different from how you react to
situations. You’ll try to be rational about problems, think the situation to
death. Nikolas will go in, guns blazing every time; he’ll always throw
fireballs. He can’t focus enough to hold back, throw only heat waves, or
prevent injury. Prime example being his blowing up that car the other night.”

“Well, that doesn’t necessarily
make me better than either of them.”

“Absolutely it does. It means
you’re less likely to burn the bar down in a fight or seek revenge against
someone.”

“Nikolas wants revenge?”

“Well, yeah, on Marty’s killer,
dummy.”

“That’s no different than what
I’m doing then! I’m looking for the killer for revenge.”

“No, you’re not. You’re seeking
justice because you want your name cleared. You don’t want to kill anyone. Nikolas
wants to manhandle whoever murdered Marty. There’s a
huge
difference.” He sounded so casual about the whole thing.

“Whatever. That still doesn’t
make me better than them,” I grumbled. I pulled my knees up to my chest.

“It’s certainly smarter. Besides,
Keegan admitted you were better than him the first night at the bar. Everyone
there knew it.”

“That’s because Keegan can’t do
a few tricks that I’ve learned,” I started my defense, but as usual, Gabriel
interrupted me.