Keep You From Harm (5 page)

Myles is leaning against my locker when I arrive. “Lunch today, right? You promised.”

I point at my locker door. “Are you going to let me get in there?”

“Not until you agree to be sociable and come to lunch.”

I smile reluctantly. “Fine.”

He takes a step to the side, allowing me access.

“I didn’t see you this morning.” I pile my books inside and pull out my lunch bag.

“Sorry about that. April drove us. She needed to get here early for cheerleading practice. I would have texted you, but I don’t have your number.”

I reach into my back pocket and place my new phone in his hand.

He starts tapping on the screen. “Your only contact is Kyle?” he comments curiously. “Now you have me, too.” He calls himself from my phone and glances up at me again. “And I have you.”

I pocket my phone and follow Myles toward the cafeteria I’ve only seen in passing. The noise hits me first. It’s a loud, echoing mix of clanking dishes and raised voices. The sun glares in through a wall of windows, whitewashing the scattered long and short tables that line the airy room. I see the faces of Myles’s friends sitting at a narrow rectangular table he’s obviously heading toward. Jake and April are there. So is the blonde from English. She’s sitting next to an exotic looking girl with almond shaped eyes and shiny, dark hair that flows smoothly over her shoulders. Sitting side by side, the contrast of their coloring is pronounced, especially since their overall style and look is exactly the same. Next to the exotic girl, is Lucas. He doesn’t seem to be friends with any homely girls. I spot an empty seat on the opposite side of the table. It’s the one farthest from Lucas, and I decide it’s safest to sit there.

“You all know Raielle,” Myles says, pointing in my direction as he takes the chair across from me. He’s next to Jake and I’m next to April. My eyes flick over everyone and I smile, taking care not to make eye contact with anyone in particular.

“No, rude boy, we don’t all know her,” the blonde from English class says. “I’m Kellie and this is Sophie.” She points to the dark girl beside her. I assume that’s the same Sophie who used to be Lucas’s girlfriend.

I wave a hello to them and start pulling out the sandwich Chloe made for me. I’ve never had anyone make me a lunch like this, and having it today gives me a warm little thrill that has me feeling foolish. It’s just a packed lunch.

“Did you mug a first grader on your way to school today?” Myles asks, smirking at my bag.

“Are you making fun of my insulated Dora lunch sack?” I lob back, acting offended. I’m too pleased right now to actually feel any real embarrassment.

“That’s Dora? She kind of looks like an Oompa Loompa.”

“Hey,” I point at him. “Don’t hate on Dora. She’s just a post-modern girl trying to find her way in the world. She’s an explorer when most girls her age want to be princesses. Let’s show her a little respect, okay?”

Myles blinks at me, and I realize that the whole table is staring. Then Jake busts out laughing. Myles shakes his head and grins. “You’re a trip, Raielle.”

My eyes travel to the other end of the table, and I notice that Sophie and Kellie are looking at me and whispering as they sip their diet sodas. From what I can tell, that’s all they’re having for lunch. Lucas is peering down at his tray trying unsuccessfully to conceal a smile. I turn back to Myles before Lucas can catch me looking at him. I take a huge bite of my sandwich and wink at a still amused Myles, feeling nearly normal today or what I imagine normal feels like. I haven’t used my abilities since I’ve been here, and when I go for a while without tapping into them, I can almost pretend they don’t exist, like they’re not biding their time, waiting to emerge and alienate any sense of normalcy I manage to achieve. It’s only a matter of time.

Once lunch ends, everyone scatters. I don’t have to worry about Lucas trying to walk with me again because he’s securely guarded by Sophie and Kellie who are glued to either side of him. As I walk to my locker, I’m determined to stop being so aware of Lucas Diesel.

I
’m
at Gwen’s house afterschool. During chemistry, she asked if I wanted a ride home again, and when we realized how much chemistry homework we were being assigned, she asked me to come over so we could get it done together. I texted Myles to let him know my plans by replying to a text he sent me earlier, offering me a ride with him and April. Gwen quietly snickered at how long it took me to tap out a few words back to him. I’m new to the whole having a phone and texting thing.

“When in doubt, convert to moles,” she mutters, staring at the textbook.

“What?” We’re sitting on the floor of her bedroom. To my surprise, it’s pink. Gwen the semi-Goth girl has a pink room and a white cockatoo. She’s not nearly as tough as she wants people to think.

“That’s what Mr. Pascorelli said during the first class. When in doubt, convert to moles.”

“But that doesn’t help at all.”

“No kidding. I’m hungry. Let’s take a break.” She stands before I can respond and heads downstairs.

I follow behind, locating her in the kitchen. Both her parents work, and her older brother is away at college. She has the place to herself every afternoon until six she told me.

“I’m going to cut up some cheese and apple slices. Want some?” She’s resting her hip against the granite countertop.

“Sure. Sounds very nutritious,” I laugh.

She frowns. “No junk food here. House rule, unfortunately.”

I glance around at the stone and stainless steel kitchen while she bustles about, pulling food from the refrigerator. “So, you ate lunch with Lucas and his friends today,” she says with mischief in her eyes.

“Correction. I ate lunch with Myles and his friends. He’s my neighbor. I think he’s taken me under his wing or something.”

She shrugs. “So, are you into Myles or Lucas?”

“Neither. What about you? Got a boyfriend? Are you into anyone at school?”

She turns her attention back to the cheese she’s slicing.

I sense something juicy and move to stand beside her. “You can tell me. I probably don’t know whoever it is anyway.”

The knife in her hand pauses. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Who would I tell? I talk to you and sometimes Myles. That’s it. And I promise I won’t tell Myles.”

“You talk to Lucas. People saw you in the hallway today,” she says.

I throw my hands in the air. “Oh my god. This school is ridiculous. Every time I talk to a guy in the hall it makes headlines.”

“Crap!” Gwen yells, jerking her hand back.

When she cautiously holds it up, I see rivulets of blood pouring from her finger, dripping down onto the hardwood floor. I grab a dishtowel on the counter and wrap it around her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a panicked voice. “Those are nice towels. My mom’s gonna freak.”

Before I can think better of it, I act on instinct. While still applying pressure to her finger with the towel, I place my other hand on the exposed skin of her forearm. I can immediately feel her wound pulling on the energy inside me. My stomach hollows and then seems to shift. It’s similar to the feeling you get when an elevator moves down too quickly or when you’ve gone too high on a swing and you fall through midair for a moment before the swing catches you again. It’s an exhilarating and satisfying sensation that vibrates through me but abates quickly when I remove my hand from her arm. Her cut was minor. It probably would have only required a few stitches.

I can see Gwen blinking in confusion. She knows she felt something strange but she’s not sure what. My mother told me that when you’re healing a person, depending on the severity of the injury, that person can feel almost giddy. She likened the sensation to a buzz you get from alcohol. Of course, she would. With Gwen’s minor finger cut, I doubt she felt much.

This is the first time I’ve healed someone since before my mother died. Every time I give into it, I’m defying her. Her warnings run through my head again now. “Resist using it,” she told me time and time again. There are always consequences. She was partly right. I’ve found that I can heal small cuts and wounds, broken bones, too, without consequence. But more serious issues, life and death injuries, can’t be tinkered with. I saw this myself when my mother tried to heal one of her junky boyfriends who had been stabbed and showed up at our doorstep covered in blood. She cared too much to resist healing him, but then his son died from an aneurism the next day.

Gwen gingerly pulls the towel from her hand and examines her finger. I didn’t completely mend the wound. That would look too suspicious. But I turned the deep slice into more of a paper cut. “It stopped bleeding,” she says, turning her hand over. “I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

Just then, my back pocket rings, causing me to squeal in surprise. Gwen points and laughs. “You’re such a luddite.”

“Look at you with the fancy SAT word,” I tease. “For your information, I’m not a luddite. I’m poor. There’s a difference.”

“Then let me give you some advice, Raielle. If you’re going to keep your cell phone there, set it to vibrate. Then enjoy the booty call.” She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I grin at her before turning away to answer. It’s Kyle.

“Where are you? Chloe is getting ready to put dinner on the table. I told you my dad was coming over tonight.”

I mutter a curse under my breath. “I forgot. I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” I end the call feeling badly. I turn to Gwen.

“I heard. I’ll get my keys.”

When we arrive at the house, an unfamiliar car is parked on the street in front. It’s a large white sedan. I’m about to open Gwen’s car door when I turn back to her. “You never told me who you’re crushing on.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I shouldn’t tell you because you’re not telling me.”

“Because I have nothing to tell,” I argue. It’s sort of the truth. It doesn’t matter if I’m interested in someone since I’m not going to act on it.

She closes her eyes. “It’s Jake.”

I grin. “Jake? Hey, I actually know him.”

“I know. You ate lunch with him.” She seems envious.

“Where were you at lunch? I didn’t see you.”

“Because you were sitting in the center of the caf where all the bright shiny people eat. I was sitting in the back, at a corner table where the rest of us peons dwell.”

I shake my head. “You’re so wrong, Gwen. I am not one of
those
people. I never have been. If it wasn’t for Myles, I wouldn’t have sat there at all. For all I know, they set him straight after lunch and now I’m banned.”

She gapes at me. “Do you own a mirror? How could you
not
be one of those people? Guys literally stop in their tracks when you walk by. I know you seem oblivious to the way you look, but I never figured you actually were.”

I rub my forehead. I’m starting to get a headache. “People react that way at first, but when they realize my personality doesn’t match, I’m put in the loner column, and I’m left alone.”

She tilts her head at me like she doesn’t believe me.

“I’ll sit with you at lunch tomorrow, okay? I’d rather eat with you anyway.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re going to purposely torpedo your rep?”

I sigh at her ridiculousness. “Or I could bring you with me to Myles’s table, and you can talk to Jake.”

She vigorously shakes her head. “No. You can’t do that.”

Her reaction surprises me. “Why not? Are you shy or something?”

Gwen runs a hand over her jet black hair. “I’m not shy. I’m a realist. He’d never be interested in me.”

“Why would you say that?”

She bugs her eyes out like the answer is obvious.

“You have a lousy attitude, but you’re attractive and smart. You should let me talk to him for you.” I’m not sure why I’m insisting. For some reason, her surprising lack of confidence makes me really want to help her.

“No! Don’t you have a dinner to get to?” She huffs at me.

“Fine,” I roll my eyes. “Let’s make a deal. When it comes to boys, you lay off me, and I’ll lay off you.”

She gets a weird twinkle in her eye. “No way. I won’t make that deal. Because when you and Lucas get together, it’s going to be epic, and I want to hear every detail.”

“Oh my god. You’re deluded.” I turn my back on her and climb out of her car.

I hear her giggling behind me before she pulls away.

There’s chatter coming from the dining room when I step through the door. After setting my bag down, I walk hesitantly toward the noise. Chloe spots me first.

“You’re here,” she states. “I’ll make you a plate.”

As she ducks into the kitchen, my eyes travel around the table, landing on two unfamiliar faces, both of whom are staring at me.

“She looks just like her mother,” the older man says. He is obviously Alec, Kyle’s father. He has thick grey hair streaked with yellowish-brown patches. It’s combed back away from his long forehead. I can tell that he’s a tall man even though he’s sitting down. Beside him is a weathered looking woman. She has leathery skin, and she’s layered in jewelry. Large gold disks hang from her ears matching the thick gold ropes that surround her neck and wrists.

“Raielle,” Kyle says. “This is my father, and this is Linda.”

I smile weakly. “Sorry I’m late.”

Chloe returns, setting a plate down in front of the empty seat beside Penelope, who is engrossed in the task of getting a single pea onto her spoon.

I sit down at the table and keep my eyes on my plate while I settle in. I’m not nervous exactly, but I do feel uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe it’s the way Linda seems to squint at me as though I have something wrong with my face.

Alec breaks the awkward silence. “Despite everything, Raielle, I was very sorry to hear about Angela.”

“Thanks,” I mumble. When my eyes meet his, I feel a strange shock at their intensity. They’re a deep green color reminding me of the ocean in winter and looking just as frigid. In contrast, his expression is calm and emotionless. It occurs to me that his eyes would go better with his girlfriend’s sour face. Maybe they blame me for the fact that he couldn’t get a divorce from my mother. Then again, maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I want this man to be awful to excuse what my mother did to him and Kyle, because the alternative is too hard to accept.

“How are you doing? You’ve had quite an upheaval,” Alec asks.

I don’t want to meet his eyes again, but I do. “I’m fine. I’m lucky Kyle and Chloe were willing to take me in. I’m very grateful to them.” As I’m saying those words, I realize they’re true. I would have done okay going into foster care again. I always survived. But this is different. This is better somehow, like I’m a part of something rather than a ghost flitting in and out of strangers’ homes.

Kyle smiles at me and so does Chloe. “You don’t have to be grateful,” he says. “You’re family. Of course you would come here. We’re happy you’re here despite the circumstances.”

I nod at him while I study my plate again. I don’t really do feelings and mushiness very well or at all. I hide my discomfort by helping Penelope scoop the rest of her peas onto her spoon. Kyle must sense my wariness because he changes the subject to work. Apparently, Alec is an accountant, too. A dry discussion of New York State tax law ensues.

I mostly push my food around on my plate throughout dinner. Soon Chloe excuses herself to put Penelope to bed, but only after Penelope smothers her grandfather in goodnight kisses. Once she’s gone, I begin to clear the table. I’ve got nearly all the plates piled on the counter when Chloe returns.

“Go into the living room with everyone else,” she orders. “I’ll finish in here.” She takes the dishtowel from my hand and ushers me out.

In the living room, Alec and Linda are seated on the couch. Kyle sits in a chair across from them. I take the empty armchair beside him. Everyone smiles at me.

“We hear you’re an excellent student,” Linda says, addressing me for the first time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She purses her lips. “Ma’am? Please, call me Linda.”

Across from me, Alec leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He’s built like an over the hill athlete, with thick arms and a barrel chest. “I understand your mother never said anything to you about Kyle,” he states. I glance over at Kyle and he offers me a tight smile. Of course, he would tell his father everything.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Having a brother must have come as quite a shock.”

“Yes, it did.” I squirm in my seat. I don’t want to say anything negative about my mother.

Alec offers me a gentle smile. Then he leans back into the couch.

Now that Alec has given me an opening, I ask my own question. “Why do you think she never told me?”

He doesn’t seem surprised by my question. After a long moment, he shakes his head slowly and sighs. “I have no idea. I couldn’t imagine walking away from my son and never looking back.”

I don’t miss the accusation in his words. “How did she leave?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Alec tilts his head at me.

“Did she just disappear one day?”

He rubs a hand across his rough cheek. Linda reaches out and touches his arm.

“She did just disappear,” Kyle answers for his father. “I was at school. Dad was work. When she didn’t show to pick me up, they called him. We came home and she was gone.”

I glance from Kyle to his father. Kyle’s lingering hurt is obvious. “Was she drinking back then?” I ask. As usual, I’m thinking of ways to excuse her behavior.

After a pause, Alec replies, “I thought she might have had a problem.”

I glance down at the carpet. Even if she was drinking, it still doesn’t make sense. She always regretted it when I was taken away. She tried to get me back every time. My mother had her issues, but walking away from her child would have been out of character. At least for the person I knew.

“We probably won’t ever know the truth,” Linda says, rubbing her hand reassuringly over Alec’s arm.

“It’s all in the past now.” Alec places his hand over his girlfriend’s smaller one.

“Papa?”

I turn to see Penelope walking into the room, rubbing her eyes and dragging her blanket behind her.

“What are you doing up?” Kyle asks.

Penelope makes a beeline for Alec. “I want Papa to tuck me in,” she says in a tired voice. The moment she’s within reach, Alec scoops her up and places her on his lap. The adoration on his face when he looks at her makes my throat feel tight.

Chloe emerges from the kitchen. “You’re supposed to be in bed, young lady.”

“It’s all right. I can tuck her back in. Right, puppet?” Alec says.

Penelope nods with satisfaction.

“I want you to stay in bed this time,” Chloe warns as Alec passes by with his granddaughter in his arms.

“I will, Mommy,” she promises.