Touching the Surface (16 page)

“It is a weird sensation,” said Trevor, watching me defy water.

“Did you ever play with cornstarch and water when you were a kid?” I asked, suddenly remembering that I had. Hadn’t Mel mentioned that once some of the big memories were unlocked, smaller ones would start popping up with little triggers?

“Can’t say I did. Why?” Trevor asked.

“When you mix the powdered cornstarch with water it’s almost solid, but the minute the heat of your hand makes contact, it softens the goop and it runs through your fingers. You can’t hold on to it.”

“Like the way we’re wet and dry simultaneously,” Trevor said.

“Yes and no,” I said. “It does have its similarities, I guess, but I was thinking more about Delving.”

“Yup, Delving is a weird sensation.
Especially
when I’m in one of your Delves.”

“Hey!” I punched him in the arm, but it wasn’t very effective, considering that I was treading water.

“Here, let me help you, shorty.”

Before I could protest, Trevor had wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled my back against his chest. His chin brushed the top of my head.

“Is that better?”

Oh boy—this qualified as a weird sensation. I didn’t know that contentment and electric shock could exist in the same moment of contact.

“What were you saying about Delving?” asked Trevor.

“Um, well . . .” I was having a hard time remembering what I’d been talking about.

Trevor’s mouth was so darn close to my ear. “It’s fine—I get distracted all the time. I’m sure you’ll think of it later.”

Before I could come up with a witty retort, he was gliding me toward the rock so we could climb out of the water. With a little boost, I was up and out of the pool. I froze. Julia was standing in the shadow of the waterwheel. How long had she been there? Long enough, I guessed from seeing her shocked face.

Trevor turned and used his arms to pop up into a sitting position next to me on the rock. “So what dangerous paths are you going to lead me down now?” He grabbed my hand, mingling his fingers with mine. Then he looked up.

“Julia?” Trevor said.

She appeared forlorn and I was dumbfounded, unable to to be your PassengerwohibI think of a single thing to say.

“Julia, what’s the matter?” Trevor’s fingers untangled themselves from mine, but he still hadn’t moved.

“I was searching for you.” She sounded shaky. “I had a bad Delve earlier and I can’t get it out of my head. I need someone to talk to.” Her voice caught at the same time that her face crumpled.

The way she stared at me, it was as if none of the nonsense that had gone on between us had ever occurred. She needed me, finally. And I needed to be needed. My heart swelled and I took a step forward, ready to forgive her. I was all set to cover her with my friendship, like bubble wrap. I’d help to keep her safe.

When Trevor rushed past me, my humiliation was complete. I watched as he pulled her to him, enveloping her in his arms. She didn’t need me. She’d been searching for him. I clenched my fists. My teeth were grinding into each other. At first I thought the dizzy sensation had to do with the fact that I was so steamed I was holding my breath, but—

•  •  •

I was in dark shadows and a woman towered over me, framed in bright lights. I disliked her immediately. Her face was shifting plates of harsh lines
and her anger drilled into my face or the face of whoever’s Delve this was.

“Mama, I don’t want to go out there.” The voice was whispery and pleading.

Where the hell was I?

“Julia Antonio Going. We have been through this before. You will go out on that stage,” the woman hissed, and stepped closer.

Julia—this was Julia’s Delve again. She peeked up at the woman. My stomach sank with the realization that this was her mother. The woman seemed gigantic. All I could think about was Cruella de Vil.

“But I told you, I don’t want to do dancing. It’s scary to do a recital. I don’t like the people watching me and the lights in my face.”

The pieces were starting to fall into place. Julia’s mother wasn’t overly tall—Julia was little, really young from the sound of it. Then there was music, a swell of notes, and a woman with her hair in a bun and a corsage pinned to her dress popped her head over Mrs. Going’s shoulder.

“Everything all right here?” The woman sounded nervous, but you could tell she was trying to hide it behind her happy preschool voice.

“Everything’s fine.” Mrs. Going grabbed Julia by the upper arm, her nails digging into her daughter’s skin. I felt myself flinch. The first time because of the cruelty of the act and the second time because Julia didn’t flinch at all, telling me all I needed to know. She was used to this.

“Are you ready to dance then, Julia? It’s time,” the woman with the corsage said. I saw a flock of tiny girls in tutus being herded onto the stage.

“She’s ready to dance. Aren’t you, Julia?” Her mother leaned over and
whispered in her ear, “You’re already a disappointment. Don’t embarrass me out there_ I was at the Obmil.”

Julia nodded as she was led away to join the rest of the ballerinas.

I said a little prayer, hoping she’d realize that the stage wasn’t such a bad place to be. At least her mother wasn’t on it. I was pretty sure that there weren’t a lot of things scarier than that woman. Julia found a glow-in-the-dark circle in the row of stickers on the stage floor. She fixed her feet and I took in what she was seeing. We now stood center stage, facing the rich royal blue curtain—watching it slide open. The widening gap, becoming bigger by the second, exposed a sea of bright lights and shadowed faces. The curtains stopped and in the moment just before the audience made its first sound, Julia looked down to see a stream of liquid race down her little leg, fill her pink ballet slipper, and then puddle at her feet.

•  •  •

“Shh,” Trevor cooed, rocking her in his arms. “It’s okay. She’s not really here. You’re safe with me.”

Julia lifted her head and there was no hiding from what I’d seen. She stood up and faced me, so close I could have reached out and hugged her. Her expression was full of things, some that I understood and some that I didn’t have a clue how to decipher, but I wanted to try. I found myself leaning toward her, wanting to be included. In one second I realized that a single horrific event, in my otherwise pretty good life, was less traumatic than her life full of tragedy.

Julia’s delicate wrist dabbed at the corners of her leaky eyes. “Elliot, would it be okay if I borrowed Trevor for a little while?”

Of all the things she could’ve ask for, she picked the one that would wound me the most. This was beyond taking Trevor away from me.

It was utter rejection.

I could feel the anger boiling in my soul. She should understand what rejection feels like and not ever want to hurt someone else that way. And now I couldn’t help it—I hated her. It seemed so wrong after what I’d just witnessed, but it was beyond my control. It all roared out of me as a storm—clouds, raindrops, and lightning. Julia stood her ground, even though my feelings were pouring down on her. Of course she had her protector behind her. Another rush of anguish. Trevor, on the other hand, appeared frazzled as he watched my volatile emotions, making God knows what kind of display over my head. A sharp crack of thunder made Trevor tense, which I enjoyed until Julia practically shot back into his arms.

“Please? Please give us a couple minutes. Will you wait for me?” Trevor asked.

I wanted to say no, that I hated him, too, but flashes from our Delves kept going off like fireworks in my brain. I’d fallen in love with him once, but that didn’t have to mean anything now.

“I’m heading up,” I said, tight-lipped, trying to reel in my emotions.

“Promise me you’ll wait up top.” He looked dangerous and demanding, but I didn’t care. Julia was still folded into his arms like she belonged there.

I remembered when he’d demanded that the suicidal Elliot return to meet him. I threw imaginary daggers at his face, although I was aiming for his heart. “You don’t get to use that request twice.”

Conveniently, a path opened up in front of me as I turned to stalk off.

I walked until the trees had to be your Passenger, but g before swallowed me up and then I waited. It was pathetic and I knew it, but I did it anyway. Plopping down, I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth and cried.

He didn’t come. I felt a tiny ache like a small hammer banging in the outer corner of my left eye. Choices were made and I was deemed inconsequential. I wanted to get up and do something productive. Sneak back and see if Trevor was making Julia forget her troubles. But if he was . . .

Another part of me wanted to head up to the top of the mountain and Delve without him. I’d have the answers that he wanted and then I could refuse him when he asked. I wanted to send him back to Julia empty-handed.

I did neither. I sat right where I was and let the beat in my head drown out the sad song in my soul.

•  •  •

It seemed like forever had passed when he finally came tromping through the woods. He stopped short, not expecting me to be so close to the pond. He must’ve believed that I’d taken off to the top without him.

He sucked in a deep breath and then plopped down next to me. As I continued to rock, I could feel the sleeve of his shirt dance back and forth over my upper arm.

I had a million and one things that I wanted to say, but they were all pushing and shoving to get to the head of the line. I couldn’t decide which thought to let out of its cage first.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His voice was controlled.

“I didn’t ask.”

“No, I guess you didn’t.” There was a frayed spot on the knee of his jeans and he picked at it with his finger.

“She needs a friend.”

“She had a friend and she threw me away.” I stopped rocking. The silence sat between us like the ghost of Julia.

“It’s complicated.” We both said it at the same time. How did he always do that? Fall into sync with me when he’d just been—gone.

We studied each other and then we both smirked.

“Everything’s complicated.” Trevor hopped up and reached out a hand to pull me up.

“I’m here now,” Trevor said, his shoulders relaxing. Uncharacteristically, he nibbled at his cuticle. I felt myself wanting to soften at the gesture of insecurity, but I also knew what he looked like when Julia was entangled in his arms, when he was her protector. I understood what it felt like to be chosen last. I was at the bottom of everyone’s list lately.

Despite knowing that I was seper.”

22

the rain
on
the pain

It had been raining for three days and all I wanted to do was curl up in some cozy corner and have everyone leave me alone. I didn’t want drama, excuses, guilt, or responsibility. I just wanted to drink hot chocolate and get lost in the pages of a good book. But every time I tucked myself away in a discreet corner, I was inundated by people trying to steer clear of me. Irony sucks. Julia would stumble into our room and mumble under her breath while trying to avoid coming anywhere near me. Trevor would show up wherever I happened to be and scowl at me. Like I was the one who’d followed him into the room. Hello? I was here first.

Even Mel was a problem. I’d approached her with an excuse for missing Workshop, but before I could open my mouth to
suggest a hiatus, she gave me a hard stare and I shriveled up like a raisin. So I’d created some all-weather gear and a heavy-duty umbrella and trudged my way up the trail and back, day after day after day. I never stayed wet for more than a second, but in a strong rain, with each drop hitting me in succession, I felt damp and annoyed until I was out of the storm.

At Workshop, I settled into a defensive position and was ready to dare anyone to make me Delve. I wasn’t sure if i to be your Passenger did youhiI bit my lipt was the vibe I was giving off or the ring of barbed wire around my chair, but Mel and everyone else left me alone. The only person I didn’t see was Oliver, and asking about him really wasn’t an option since I’d started flying my freak flag to keep everyone at bay.

So now it’d been three days and I was tired of defensive machinations. I grabbed my slicker and slipped outside as everyone was settling down for the night. I stopped caring that the rain was beating on my skull. I needed to be in open spaces so I headed to the lake.

“Nice hiding place.”

Trevor. Did I have a tracking chip or something? “I’m not hiding, I’m sailing,” I shot back. The water was smooth but the unrelenting rain bounced on its surface with a staccato sound. I was surrounded, inundated with water.

“Your dinghy is tied to the dock. I’m not sure you can call that sailing.”

I could feel a snort trying to sneak out as I pictured the sides of his mouth curling up. I bit my cheek. I wasn’t ready to stop hating him. I fished for a sharp retort but I must have exhausted my supply. “Who are you calling dingy?”

He chuckled in the darkness, and for the first time in days I felt like I could take a deep breath. I turned around. He was in the shadows, barely a silhouette.