Heal Me (A Touched Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: Heal Me (A Touched Trilogy Book 2)
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There were moments when I thought he was going to put an end to our benefits, when he would want to go out and do something, but couldn’t because of Hannah. She seemed to remind him of just what could happen with what we were doing. I wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t end it. I had to admit that she made me have a few second thoughts as well, but after feeling numb for so long, I didn’t want to give up the feelings Micah brought out in me.

I loved how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was to suddenly switch into the ‘more’ side of our friendship. With Micah, I didn’t have to worry about transfers. I’d gotten good at predicting when they would happen and unless he was a raging ball of emotion, he managed to keep them to himself. Everything about us was easy.

 

 

Chapter 11

 

“Are you going to Homecoming?” Micah asked. The question came completely out of the blue and I wondered what had even made him think about it. English homework normally didn’t inspire him to think of dancing, although Calculus had brought him to the verge of tears once.

“No. I’m just going to veg at home.”

“With your sisters?”

“You’re kidding right? There’s no way Phoebe will miss an opportunity to rub Nathan in Vivian’s face.” Even though Nathan’s ex was no longer stalking them, Phoebe loved gloating too much to let it go. “And Chloe never misses a social event. Besides she and Andrew are back together. Or at least they are this week.”

“This week?”

“Chloe and Andrew have had this constant on-off thing going on for almost a year. I can’t even keep up with it anymore.” I twirled my pencil, then tapped it on the edge of my laptop and completely avoided looking at him. “Are you going?”

“No way. I don’t do dances.”

“No smooth moves?” I looked up this time to smirk at him.

“Oh, I’ve got the smooth moves. They’re just not fit for public.” He dropped his pen and slid up next to me. “My folks won’t be home for another hour. Wanna go to my room?”

I snorted. “I think your moves need some work.”

He leaned in close and nuzzled my neck, right behind my ear and every inch of my skin tingled with goose bumps. A few weeks of our benefits had done nothing to dull the excitement.

“Are you sure?” His lips brushed my skin and I sank into him for just a moment before pulling in a deep breath and moving away.

“I have to get this paper done and you promised to help me. If I bomb another English assignment, I’m so screwed.”

“Normally, you like-”

My glare cut him off. “You so should not finish that sentence.”

“What? I was going to say that you like writing papers.”

“Um hum.”

“Fine, then let’s get this thing done.” He pulled my laptop in front of him and started reading the beginnings of my paper. The faces he made while reading did not inspire hope that I’d written anything worth keeping. Minutes later, he confirmed it. “This is really crappy.”

“I know.” I groaned. “I just don’t see the point in dissecting the theme of identify in
The Scarlet Letter
. It’s got to be one of the boringest books Ms. Garcia has ever given us to read.”

“But it’s an awesome theme. I mean her struggle to establish her identity within her community and society is such a huge part of the story and helps us to recognize how the demands of our own society impacts our own identities. Look at how people ostracized and shamed her for what she saw as an act of love. She could have easily hidden behind the sin she was accused of and accepted their forgiveness, yet instead she refused to admit that what she had done was wrong. She refused to be ashamed, whereas Dimmesdale hides his actions and it eats away at him.”

“Okay, how is it this English stuff comes so easily for you? Considering how much harder I work at it than you, it’s really not fair.”

“Considering my life, Hester’s life seems pretty easy to understand. My friends pretty much bailed on me when Jaime got pregnant. Once Hannah came, she was like a novelty and they came around for a bit. Mostly they just wanted to feed the rumor mill, especially when Jaime bailed. I didn’t really care about the gossip, but I guess my parents were embarrassed. I mean, who wants to admit their seventeen year old kid knocked up his girlfriend?” What started as a matter of fact speech ended with a tinge of bitter.

“I don’t think your parents are ashamed of you or Hannah,” I said, and rested my hand on his arm.

“I know. It just sucks that...forget it. Let’s get this done.” He clicked a button and my essay was instantly gone. “I’ll help you with the outline and then you’re on your own. Otherwise I’m going to start calling you Phoebe.”

“Fine.” I pouted for a second then let it slip into a grudging smile. “Thank you.”

As he typed, my mind wandered back to his Homecoming question. Why had he asked me about going? Was it just simple curiosity? Was it his way of seeing if I wanted to go? The jumble of questions grew to the point where all other thoughts were pushed out.

In the end, it didn’t matter. He didn’t ask me and neither of us went. Instead I stayed home with Dad, while Micah took care of a sick Hannah. He invited me over, but listening to her scream and cry from an ear infection was not my idea of a fun night out.

Watching television with Dad wasn’t the most exciting way to spend the evening, but the medical drama he chose was better than wallowing in my room. It’s where I’d been earlier in the evening, until thoughts of Dylan began suffocating me. Chloe had seen him taking me to Homecoming, yet somehow his fate had changed so drastically and suddenly.

The show, though, did little to banish those thoughts. Curled up on the couch, I tuned out the television and tried to imagine what my life would be like with Dylan still alive. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t do it. Having him back in my life, having him take me to Homecoming would mean not having Micah around. And I couldn’t imagine not having Micah in my life. No matter where things took us, Micah was my best friend.

“I’m calling it a night, sweetheart,” Dad said, pushing out of his deep-seat recliner. I looked at the television in surprise, seeing a split screen with the credits rolling and an ad for the next episode playing. “Are you staying up?”

“Yeah, but I’ll go downstairs. I ordered a new book I want to read.”

“Tell your sisters they need to come and let me know when they get home.”

“I will.”

Keeping that promise came a few hours later. I was lying on my bed reading when loud thumps came from someone stomping down the stairs. I got up and opened my bedroom door, catching Chloe just as she was going into her room. I opened my mouth to remind her about letting Dad know she was home, but she held up a hand.

“I already went to say night to Dad.” She pursed her lips and even before I glimpsed the tears in her eyes, the heat of her sadness hit me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling the door open wider and stepping into the hall.

She opened then closed her mouth and shook her head. Her shoulders slumped forward and a ragged sigh exploded from her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her head shook again.

“Do you need anything?”

She didn’t shake her head this time, but she didn’t ask for anything either. Instead, she stood there waiting and I did what I always did when one of my sisters cried. I reached out and rubbed her back, letting her emotions transfer through the touch. I had expected hurt or anger, but only a deep disappointment and sense of loss came through. The transfer was done within seconds and we went to bed without another word spoken between us. The night was forgotten as just as quickly.

With September almost over, the rain would start coming more often and by November we would be entering the rainy season. The picnic tables outside were full of people wanting to enjoy the last of the warm and dry weather.

The Wednesday after Homecoming, Micah and I sat outside, eating lunch. Normally we didn’t have any alone time at school and I tried not to seek it out either. Anything beyond friends here would cross the imaginary line we had established. It was hard to keep myself from wanting to step across it, but I did because I knew I couldn’t do anything that would cause me to lose what little I had.

“Is Chloe still dating Andrew?” Micah asked.

“No, they broke up again.” I gave him a curious look and wished I had my cousin Kevin’s mind reading abilities. Micah sometimes asked the most random questions and I could never make the connections between them and what we’d been discussing. This was the perfect example. One minute he was telling me about his biology experiment and the next he’s asking about Chloe. Even after a month of ‘benefits’ I still couldn’t figure him out completely.

There had been a couple times I’d wondered why he was interested in her, but he’d never said anything else, and why would he be with me if he liked my sister? I thought about what Phoebe said, about us being friends with benefits and that eventually we wouldn’t be friends anymore. I didn’t want to think that way. Micah was my best friend. he would never use me that way if he were interested in someone else.

“Why do you ask?” I tried for minimal curiosity and wasn’t quite sure I achieved it.

“Just wondering. She was sitting by herself in the cafeteria, and I thought it was a little strange.”

“Please tell me you’re not worrying about Chloe,” Phoebe said, sliding onto the bench across from me and next to Micah. “She’s probably just PMSing.”

Micah grunted and stuffed a large piece of apple in his mouth, puffing out his reddened cheeks. Nothing like the mention of the female cycle to end a conversation.

Chloe wasn’t PMSing. This was her moping about Homecoming and the fact that it was the official end of the Chloe-Andrew dating merry-go-round. She hadn’t offer an explanation and I felt a bit guilty that I hadn’t even really been interested in knowing what had happened. I’d been too busy dwelling on thoughts of Dylan and Micah.

“How are you doing?” Phoebe asked, turning to me.

“I’m...” The word fine tickled the end of my tongue as I bit the word off. “I’m here.”

“What’s up?” Micah looked from Phoebe to me.

“Today would have been Dylan’s eighteenth birthday,” Phoebe said when I didn’t answer him.

“I’m fine, really, Phoebe. I’d rather not talk about it.” I squirmed under her knowing gaze, feeling mild relief that she wasn’t calling me out in front of Micah. Not that he was really listening. He was staring off into space, munching on another apple slice.

Talking about Dylan was not at the top of my list of things I wanted to do today. The dreams I’d been having were now appearing every night, and even though they all ended the same way, with him walking way, I couldn’t help but feel that I was the one leaving. And I didn’t want to leave him behind. Despite everything that had happened before he died, I’d loved him and he’d died thinking I didn’t.

Being awake didn’t help either. Little things I had missed seeing the past few months now glared at me, daring me to ignore how they reminded me of him. At first, I’d been furious with myself. Angry that I was letting Dylan take me over again. I didn’t need memories of him to remind me of what I lost. I already knew. My fury grew as guilt began consuming me. I was with Micah, while Dylan was dead, alone.

Phoebe nodded and started blabbing on about how horrible Mr. Mason was being this year now that he was teaching the senior level courses. A vibrating in her pocket eventually stopped her and she pulled out her cell and attempted to figure out how to open the text message she’d just received.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow night?” I asked Micah, hoping Phoebe was distracted enough not to be listening. I wanted to forget about Dylan and being with Micah was the easiest way to do that.

“What, oh, um I might have plans.” He shoved another slice in. When he finished chewing, he grabbed his garbage and said, “I forgot something in my locker. I’ll see you in class.”

I watched him go, aware of Phoebe watching me in turn.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad. You know this isn’t going to turn out well, right?” She shoved the cell back in her pocket then snatched a piece of cheese from my taco.

“We’re friends, Phoebs.” Micah had disappeared inside and I refocused my energy on picking apart the greasy taco that sat on my tray. I should have brought my own lunch today. Even a smooshed sandwich would have been better.

“Hate to break it to you, Lils, but friends don’t go around making out and doing...you know what with each other every day.”

“We don’t make out every day,” I protested weakly.

“Every weekend, whatever. I don’t want to go all Nanna on you, but I will if I have to.”

“Please do not start the whole milking the cow thing. You know she never gets it right and neither do you.”

“The point is you’re not looking at him like a friend anymore. And after five weeks of being your friend with benefits, he just walked away as if he didn’t even know you were sitting here.” She laid her hand on my shoulder as she stood to leave. “I don’t want you to get hurt again and that’s what’s gonna happen. I don’t need Chloe’s ability to see the future to know that, and neither do you.”

She was right. I was falling for Micah. I had been for a long time. It was why I’d agreed to the benefits part of our friendship. I’d wanted to be with him, even if it wasn't the way I really wanted. Maybe it was weak of me, but I didn’t want to lose him. Not that I thought he’d stop being my friend, but when we were together I felt like I was with someone who truly understood what I’d gone through. Micah knew what it cost to love and lose someone, what a challenge it was to get up in the morning and face the consequences of your actions. If it took him a while longer to realize he wanted more from me then I could wait.

When I reached English class, the place was still deserted. Ms. Garcia was at her desk, bent over and fumbling with a pink cowboy, or rather cowgirl hat. She was starting with her partner and cooperation building activities again. I concentrated on getting my things ready, pulling three pencils to line up at the top of my desk. Chloe had become a habitual pencil stealer.

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