Rua (Rua, book 1) (3 page)

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Authors: Miranda Kavi

BOOK: Rua (Rua, book 1)
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“Oh, well, I just assume that all men want me. Sorry.”

“Girl, shoot!” He pulled into the parking lot. “Ready for day two?”

“Sure. It’s easy with you here.” She finished off the doughnut and licked her fingers.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice.”

They walked into the depressing beige building together. Long rows of battered red lockers lined the inner hallway. She scanned the numbers until she found hers.

“So, we should like, I don’t know, go do stuff this weekend.” Tink leaned against the bank of lockers.

“What kind of stuff is there…”

Rylan entered the building, walking down the hall in a straight path to her. His backpack was slung casually over one shoulder.

She straightened at his approach.

“What are you looking at?” Tink asked.

Rylan met her eyes.

Pain ripped through her head. Her knees buckled and she hit the floor, gripping the sides of her head in agony. Throbbing, pulsing waves of hurt swept over her.

“Celeste?”

She heard Tink’s voice, but it sounded far away.

“Oh, my God, somebody call 911!”

The waves of agony lessened, shrinking as the seconds ticked off. She felt her body move, but she wasn’t sure how it happened. She rolled her head forward and tried to look up, but she couldn’t open her eyes.

“Celeste?” Another voice, this one feminine and unfamiliar. “Open your eyes. Can you hear me?”

She did. A pretty Hispanic woman leaned over her. She wore scrubs with a teddy bear print and a stethoscope around her neck. “Good girl. Keep those eyes open, I need to check them, okay?”

“Okay,” Celeste said in a watery voice.

The woman pulled out a pen-sized flashlight from her pocket. “Follow this with your eyes, okay?” She moved it up and down, left and right. Finally, she clicked it off and put it away. “You have colored contacts, very dark. What color are your eyes?”

“Purple.”

“Interesting,” the woman said.

“No, weird.”

The woman smiled. “That’s not weird. I’m Ingrid, the school nurse. Can you tell me what happened?” She pulled out a blood pressure cuff as she spoke.

“I don’t know. I was just talking with a friend and all the sudden my head started to hurt.” She rubbed her temples.

“Does it hurt now?” She wrapped the cuff around Celeste’s arm, pumped the bulb until it was tight, and read the meter.

“No. It doesn’t at all, actually.”

“Good. Sit up, slowly now.” She snaked her arm around Celeste’s back, and helped her to the sitting position. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

Ingrid put the cuff back in the drawer, pulled out a clipboard, and leaned on the counter. “Do you do any drugs? Alcohol?”

Celeste laughed. “No.”

Ingrid frowned. “You need to tell me if you have. If you get a wacky dose of drugs, it can kill you. You can go to sleep and never wake up.”

Celeste pulled the smile off her face. “No, for real.”

“Okay. Here’s what I’m gonna do. You need to go see your regular doctor to get checked out. I’m calling your mom to come get you.” She put her clipboard down. “You’re lucky Rylan caught you before you hit the ground and carried you in here. I’m glad you didn’t hit your head on the lockers or the floor.”

“Rylan carried me in?” Celeste echoed.

She smiled. “Yes, he did. I’ll go call your mom.”

Celeste closed her eyes. She’d been in his arms, and she wasn’t even awake for it.
No. Don’t think like that. I have bigger fish to fry.

Did Rylan cause her pain? Not possible, but neither were pavement birds.

“Celeste, your mom will be here soon.” Ingrid was back in the room.

Celeste opened her eyes. “Oh, thanks.”

“Why don’t you lie down until she gets here? Want me to turn off the light?”

“Yes.”

She closed the door behind her as she left.

Celeste rolled away from the door, folded her hands, and tried to sleep on the uncomfortable examining table.

At first, she couldn’t get her mind to shut off. Rylan, birds, and other weird things crowded her mind.

Eventually, the voices in the hallway faded to a point where she heard the electronics buzzing quietly in the room. The soothing white noise pushed her to the brink of sleep.

“Celeste.” A female voice, very close to her ear.

“Huh?” she answered.

“Celeste.” Again, very close.

“Yes?” She rolled over, expecting to find Ingrid or another school official. The room was empty.

She wasn’t alone, of that she was certain. “Hello?” She laid back and closed her eyes. “I’m losing it, aren’t I?”

“It’s time.” The voice again, right next to her ear.

“Holy crap, what the hell is this?” She ran to the light switch. Even with the room filled with bright artificial light, she still didn’t see anything. She walked in a circle around the perimeter of the room, ducking to look under the examining table and stool. She knew she wasn’t alone, and it frightened her.

“Go away,” she said.

Silence.

“Great, I’m talking to a table.”

“Celeste?” This time the muffled voice was familiar.

Her mom burst through the door. “Who are you talking to? Are you okay?” She pushed a thick swath of curls out of Celeste’s face.

“I’m fine.”

“The nurse told me what happened. Do you remember anything?”

Celeste shrugged. “It just hurt really bad, and then I passed out. It was weird.”

“Did you have a headache this morning? Is your stomach upset? What happened before you passed out?”

Celeste stepped out of her mother’s arms. “I don’t remember.” But she did. It was Rylan, when he’d made eye contact with her.

Her mom wrapped an arm around her waist. “Let’s go. I made a doctor’s appointment. No more school today.”

They walked out of the nurse’s office. Celeste glanced behind her as they left. Rylan was sitting on the floor in the hallway, face buried in his hands. He didn’t see her.

***

Celeste curled up on the corner of the couch with a quilt and one of her mom’s teas. This one was pineapple-flavored. It was kind of gross.

Her mom walked into the room, phone in hand. “Your father wants to talk to you.”

Celeste took the phone. “Hi, Daddy!”

“Hi, baby. You okay?” He had a deep voice that reminded her of tall oak trees and cold weather.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Your mother said the doctors didn’t find anything wrong.”

“Nope. I’m good to go.”

“The doctors are wrong. Healthy teenage girls don’t get nasty headaches and pass out.”

“I’m fine, Daddy. He said it could have been a migraine.”

“But you’ve never had migraines,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’ll be home in a few hours, baby. We’ll find a specialist or something to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Dad, please. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He sighed. “I will worry, but I’ll shut up for now. What do you want for your birthday?”

She smiled. “I don’t want anything.”

He laughed in his deep throaty way. “So you don’t want any beautiful hand-printed scarves or shawls I may have picked up?”

“Well, if you’ve already bought them.”

“All right then. I hoped you would take them off my hands.”

“Did you get Momma some tea?” she asked.

He chuckled again. “Of course. I got the weirdest tea I could find. Hopefully she hasn’t had it before.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I love you, babe. Put her back on?”

She handed the phone to her mom then went to her room in the back of the house.

It was finally dark outside, which made her feel good. She threw open her window to let some chilly night air in. She read her book, checked her cell phone text messages from Tink, and studied the patterns on her comforter, anything to keep from thinking about her day.

If she ignored it, it’d go away. She lay back on the pillows and let the night take over. Hopefully, she wasn’t losing her mind.

 

Chapter 4

She woke in the middle of the night. The house was silent, her door was open. She sat up. Why had she woken?

“Oscail an doras.
” The voice again, in her ear.

“Who is that?” she hissed into the dark. She threw back the covers. “Hello?”

The moon was out, filling her familiar room with strange light. Her open door loomed darker against the dark.

She paced around the small space; closet, dressers, door to her connected bathroom, her twin-size bed, and her large garden window. Nothing.

“What the hell!” She sat on her bed. She was either crazy or haunted by disembodied voices. Either way, she loses.

The open door stayed still, the room dark and quiet.

She crab-walked back to the head of her bed, sat cross-legged, and closed her eyes. “Whatever you are, go away. Eff off. Peace out. Got it?”

“Do not be afraid.” The voice was close again.

Holy crap.

She jumped out of her bed and this time didn’t stop until she was across the house in the living room. She stood behind the long, red couch.

If she woke her mom, she’d undoubtedly think she was crazy. She might take her to a shrink or something. If she didn’t wake her mom, she’d have to deal with it on her own. Maybe that wasn’t so bad, but then again, maybe seeing a shrink wouldn’t be so bad either.

She paused near the front door. She felt the night pulling her around the edges of the door frame. Her hand was on the door, pulling it ajar before she had time to think about it. Outside, she tilted her head back and let the night wash over her skin. The cool breeze stirred her hair, lifting it from her waist. It felt good, safe, like…

“Home,” the voice said.

She whipped her head around. The shadows shifted in unison. Again, she wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” she said into the dark. The skin on her arms got bumpy, and the night turned into an oppressive mess of shadows and shapes.


Rua, Oscail an doras
.” The voice seemed a little further away now.

“What?”

She shifted her weight back and forth, changing directions with each step until she made a complete circle. She studied the trees, the neighboring houses, and the ground. Nothing.

“Celeste!” Her mom was on the front lawn. She had on her blue bath robe and her braids were tied up in a silk wrap. “Baby, what are you doing out here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you hurt? Did someone tell you to come out here? Speak.” She pulled Celeste to the house as she eyed the dark tree line with suspicion.


Rua,
” the voice whispered.

Celeste pulled out of her mom’s grasp. “Did you hear that? Tell me you heard that!”

Her mom’s face went from concern to sheer panic. “Heard what, Celeste?”

“Nothing, never mind.” She turned away from her mother and went inside to her room. She dove into her bed and pulled the comforter up to her chin.

“Celeste.” Her mother followed her in. She shut the door, flipped the light on, and sat on the bed. “Baby, please. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“That was more than a dream. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She pulled the comforter over her face. “Please let me sleep. Please.”

She waited. Her mother was silent, though she heard her breathing. She waited, and waited, and waited.

“Fine.” Her mother’s tone was softer. “Come to me if you need me. Whatever is happening, I will take care of you, baby.”

The bed creaked when she stood, and she walked out.

Celeste waited for a few seconds to make sure she was gone then threw off the comforters. In the strip of light at the foot of her bedroom door, two feet-sized shadows paced noiselessly.

It was then she realized she might actually be crazy. Not just a little “I collect dolls as an adult” crazy, but hands-down, bat-shit crazy. In movies, people heard voices and saw things when they were really crazy. Now, that’s what she was.

She pulled her chair up to her window, opened it, and rested her arms on the sill. That was the last thing she remembered doing before falling into a deep sleep.

***

“Wake up, Ce Ce.”

Celeste jolted awake. It was morning, bright, and Ce Ce was a name only her father called her. She rotated around until she saw him standing behind her. There was a lot to see. He was tall, with a strong build and a closely shaved head. Everything from his khakis to his slightly rumpled button-down shirt screamed “Dad.”

“Daddy!” She jumped to her feet and landed in his arms. He still smelled like airplane, but he also smelled like the woodsy cologne he liked to wear. He wrapped his strong arms around her and gently lifted her up with his embrace. Nestled in his arms, she was safe.

“Baby.” He rumbled in her ear. “Did you sleep like that? Your mom will have a fit.”

“When did you get in?”

He gave her another gentle squeeze before releasing her. “Just got in. You should get in bed before your momma sees you sleeping in the windowsill.”

“Too late.” She’d done her mom-ninja walk into the bedroom. “Honey, did you sleep in that chair again?”

Celeste nodded in response.

“Child, we will deal with that later.” She walked over to her husband and snuggled against his waist. She only came up to the bottom of his chest.

He smiled then swooped down to give her a gentle kiss. “How is my lady?”

“I’m good, now that you’re home.” She shot a glance at Celeste. “We need to have a family talk.” She grabbed his hand and led him out of Celeste’s room.

“Go back to bed, it’s only 5 a.m.,” he said to Celeste over his shoulder, along with a wink.

But she was awake, so she got up.

She slipped into the kitchen to make some coffee. Her parents’ muted voices floated from their partially cracked bedroom door; things like “evaluation” and “voices” and “wandering around at night” and the worst: “medication.”

“Great,” she told the coffeemaker. When it was done, she poured a big cup and selected a chair at the table. Nothing sounded good, so she forced herself to eat a banana.

Day fought the gray morning, and it won. She got up to yank the curtains shut over the breakfast table nook, but paused when something moved outside. A man, hurrying down the street, away from her house.

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