Mark of the Seer (18 page)

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Authors: Jenna Kay

BOOK: Mark of the Seer
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Brenton, oblivious to the truth that hid in the shadows of my life, said, “Well you're in luck, because I likes all your stuffs!” He grabbed me by the waist, tickling me so hard in the ribs I almost peed my pants. Then he pulled me onto his lap and kissed my cheek.

Gazing into his chocolate brown eyes, I thought about how lucky I was to have him in my life. More than anything I wanted to tell him about the world that he could not see; the world that I was able to see. More than anything I wanted to tell him what went on in this world, about angels and demons. I wanted to tell him about Seers and their role in the spiritual realm.

Only telling him was not an option—he would think of me as a nut ball who had drank too much in my young life and had destroyed most of my brain cells.

“Can I ask you a question?” I queried, biting my lip.

He nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck.

“You can ask me anything.”

I faltered a couple of blinks before asking, “Do you believe in God?”

His eyes studied mine. “Is that what you're thinkin' on?” he questioned, appearing surprised.

“Just answer the question,” I told him irritably, rolling my eyes.

“Yes,” he answered with a mild smirk.

“So you believe there's a heaven and a hell?”

“Yeah.”

“Angels and demons?”

“Why all the questions, Clare?” he wanted to know. “Why are you suddenly so into God and all that stuff?”

Ignoring his questions I demanded, “Yes or no.”

Sighing in defeat he shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good,” I said, relieved.

Brenton believed—that was the first step. Maybe eventually I would be able to take the next step: Asking him if he believed some humans could see angels and demons.

I hugged him with everything I had. He hugged me back just as hard.

“Are you OK?” he asked softly. “You've been acting a little different lately.”

“I'm fine,” I replied. “It's just...I keep thinkin' that there's gotta be more to life than just this. We've lived in this town our whole lives and this is all we know.” I looked at him thoughtfully. “There's gotta be more to life than what we see. And when our lives end, it doesn't really end, does it?”

“This isn't like you,” he told me, perplexed. “Why are you so worried about all that?”

I didn't answer.

Brenton stood up and grabbed me by my shoulders, his eyes boring into mine.

“OK. First off, you're gonna get outta this town, Clare. We both are, and we're gonna live our lives tog—“

“I got into New York State,” I interposed quickly.

His mouth hung open with shock. Slowly, he took his hands off my shoulders, sitting back down next to me.

“New York?” He looked at me with vacant eyes, trying hard to comprehend the news I gave him. “You got into New York State? That's great! When did ya find out?”

“A few weeks ago,” I said in a whisper.

He looked down at his entwined hands lying on his lap.

“When did you plan on tellin' me?”

“Brenton,” I said, coercing his face to look at me. “I'm not going without you. If you don't go, I don't go.”

He looked at me with sorrowful eyes and shook his head.

“No, Clarity. No. You're gonna go...with or without me.”

“Brenton—“

“Don't ya see? This is your chance to get out! You don't need me holdin' ya back.”

“Ooooh,” I groaned. “You sound just like A.C.”

“In this case, your aunt is right.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. “I can't go without you—I love you. You are my life.”

He sighed, leaning his head against the window. “I love you, too, and that's exactly why I want you to go.” He cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe in a couple of years I could—”

“No,” I interjected angrily, standing to my feet. “The only way I'll go is if you go with me.” I crossed my arms at my chest.

“You are so stubborn,” he said with another sigh. “Listen, it's not that I don't want to go, it's just—”

“Just what?”

Running his hand through his hair, he stood up and walked to me.

“I don't make enough money to support the both of us,” he confessed, his face reddening. “When we live together, get married, whatever we do, I wanna be able to support you. I wanna be able to give you everything ya need and want. I don't want us to end up like...” He trailed off, his eyes looking down at the floor.

I knew exactly who he was talking about—his parents. Wanting to slap myself for making him talk about his families financial woes, I took him in my arms and buried my head in his chest.

We held each other for a minute, savoring each others warmth, enjoying each others touch. Leaning back to look him in his soulful eyes it was my turn to cup his cheek.

“Money,” I said carefully, “is not an issue. My parents left me well off.”

Immediately he shook his head. “No, Clarity—out of the question! That's not the way—”

“Shhh.” I placed a finger to his lips. “I've never touched any of it because I've always wanted to make my own way. I'd promised myself I would not use any of it unless it was super important.”

“Clarity,” he whispered.


This,
” I continued, “is super important. There is no me without you. This is a chance for the both of us—not your parents, not A.C.—just me and you.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “Will you come with me to New York?”

I could almost see the wheels turning inside his brain, contemplating the whole scenario. His eyebrows drew a straight line as he stared at me hard. Nervousness struck me in the stomach as the wheels in my own brain began spinning.

What if he said no? What then? I could not go to New York by myself, without my soul mate by my side.

“You'd do that for me?” he asked, placing a flyaway hair behind my ear.

I smiled. “I'd do anything for us to be together.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. “I don't know...”

“Please, Brenton,” I implored, my arms squeezing his waist.

He gazed down at me, a troubled expression darkening his usual cheerful face. Thunder rumbled outside, once again rattling the windows. The rain beat on the building so hard I thought the ceiling was going to cave in.

“Where would we live? Where would I work? You know the only skill I have is being a mechanic.” He touched his forehead to mine, whispering, “Clarity, you deserve so much better than me.”

Dumbfounded I exclaimed, “Don't you ever say that again!” I kissed him firmly on the lips.

“You are my everything, Brenton. Don't ever forget that.”

We jumped when the bell rang, signaling that break was over. After such an unfeigned conversation, I really had no desire to sit through an hour of computer lab, but knew I had no choice. I had not been thinking seriously on the future, but I sure was going to get serious now. After meeting Sam and finding out that I was a Seer, I was determined more than ever to get out of this town and live a normal life—with Brenton by my side.

“C'mon,” he told me softly, giving my hand a loving squeeze. “I'll walk ya to class.”

“We'll talk about this later,” I said, my tone suggesting to him that he had no choice in the matter.

“I know,” he said, giving me a lopsided grin.

Brenton bent over to get our bags off the floor, and when he did my eyes caught something that was hard to perceive.

A girl around our age was standing directly behind him. That was when I noticed that the air had warmed a few degrees and the sweet scent of honeysuckle had diffused through the room. My palms began to burn and glow green, indicating to me that Brenton and I were in the presence of an angel. Of course I was the only one who actually knew about it.

The angel, just like Sam, was simply beautiful, and wearing a white sundress. Her hair was the color of wheat, flowing down her back in loose curls. Her eyes were deep blue and her pale skin was flawless.

She stared at me with concerned interest, and a small frown harbored her full pink lips. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, and who she was, but I found my tongue was unable to move. Instead I just stood there in total awe of her presence. Our eyes were glued to one another for no more than two seconds, but to me it felt like two hours; like time had stilled.

Then Brenton appeared in my line of vision, blocking her image out entirely.

“OK, let's go.” He looked at me and worry flew across his face. “Hey—you all right? You look a little pale.”

Not knowing what to say, I put my arms around him into a hug, my chin resting on his shoulder. The angel was no longer there. The honeysuckle smell had diminished and my hands were back to normal.

Once again my thoughts started bouncing against the inside of my skull.

Who was this angel and why was she looking at me like I had broken her heart?

“Clarity?”

“I'm fine,” I assured him, grabbing his hand. “Let's go to class.”

I let Brenton lead me through the busy hall full of students rushing to their last class of the day. Students that were freaking out because they forgot about the quiz they were supposed to study for; Students who were wondering who was going to ask who to the Thanksgiving dance, which was coming up in a couple of weeks.

A very typical, very normal day at Garlandton High, where the students think it's the end of the world to fail a stupid quiz or not get asked to a stupid dance.

Quickly kissing Brenton's cheek, I walked into computer lab like a lethargic zombie. Taking a seat in front of my computer I tried to stop my heart from its insane beating in my chest. Tingles were still jitterbugging down my spine from seeing another angel—my second angel sighting. I wanted to talk to Sam so bad!

I had to tell him about the other angel in town.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

“OK, so I know I've never really cared about some stupid dance, but I do now since I'm goin' with the sweetest, most handsomest guy on the planet. Plus, he's got the cutest butt of any guy I've ever known...”

Friday night, just one week and one day until the Thanksgiving dance, and I was stuck at Baker's listening to Kora ramble on and on about it. She had barged in at six-thirty, squealing like a school girl in heat about how Kevin had surprised her after school with roses and a card asking her to accompany him to the dance. I had never observed her so excited. Usually when school dances came around, Kora and I both would hangout on my roof, throwing back shots of tequila and listening to music. Not this year, though. This year Kora had a date. Me, on the other hand, was still dateless.

Brenton had not asked me yet. Of course, I had not said anything about it to him, like most girlfriends do. You know, the kind of girls that demand their boyfriends to wear certain clothes and drive certain cars and buy expensive meals. I was totally not one of those girlfriends, even though the last couple of days I just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs at him to hurry and ask already!

Maybe he didn't have the money to take me, which was kind of stupid after the talk we'd had about money and New York. Or maybe he just didn't care about some lame teenage dance. The truth be told, I really had no desire to go to a dance, but the thought of dressing up and feeling like a princess for a night did sound a little fun.

A little.

Oh well. I can just listen to Kora and be happy for her finally meeting the man of her dreams—and his cute butt.

I listened halfheartedly to Kora's unrestrained chatter.

“I've been savin' up for a killer dress. What are you gonna wear Clarity?” Before I could answer, she continued on. “I was thinkin' short and sexy for me, ya know, something that will put a permanent blush on Kev's gorgeous cheeks...but wait! I don't wanna look like a hooker or nothing, so maybe something long and satiny—something that makes me appear pure, like a virgin—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I interrupted, needing a break from her babble. “There is not a dress in the whole world that could make you a virgin again.”

She rolled her eyes. “I said
appear
pure,
like
a virgin. Not that I would become that way again.”

I laughed. “Oh,
sorrrrry
! My bad.”

“Your bad indeed,” she responded, smirking. “So what about you? Have you decided what you're gonna look for when we go dress shoppin' tomorrow?”

“Dress shoppin'?” I scrunched my face in confusion. “Who said anything about dress shoppin' tomorrow?”

She gawked at me. “We—me, you, and Janey—talked about this like, a month ago! Remember that one time during break?”

“No, not really,” I answered honestly.

With all the changes erupting in my life I was finding out how hard it was to live a double life. It was hard keeping a secret from my best friends and boyfriend, but what other choice did I have? How would I even be able to start a conversation baring all my secrets and troubles?

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