Bird Song (19 page)

My nervous smile turned into a grin as I replied, “Well, what do you want to do then?
 
Everyone will be at the dance, which means we’ll pretty much have Heath to ourselves.”

Lark snorted.
 
“We always have Heath to ourselves.
 
It’s a small town.”

I started to speak up when Stacy interrupted.
 
“Actually, it’s not as small as you’d like to think.
 
Heath has over eight thousand residents, which makes it small in comparison to, say, Cleveland, but definitely not as small as some other town around here…and I’m babbling.”

Lark and I both nodded.

She blushed.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I’ve been doing that lately, haven’t I?”

Lark and I nodded in agreement, and then burst out laughing at the frustrated look that spread across Stacy’s face, further intensifying her deepening blush.
 
“You’re too easy, Stacy,” Lark laughed.
 
Stacy started giggling, knowing that it was true.

When the bell rang, announcing lunch, the three of us headed towards the cafeteria, bemoaning the gastronomical terror that awaited us.
 
The heavy odor of grease and something rancid assailed our noses as we walked through the double doors.
 

“I’ve smelled many awful things over the past few centuries, but this—this stuff absolutely reeks,” Lark grumbled, her voice muffled by her hand which she held above her nose and mouth.
 

Stacy and I mimicked her as we approached our usual table.
 
Graham was already seated, a plate piled high with an unidentifiable mass of what resembled food, his mouth dutifully chewing as he waved at the three of us.
 
If one paid attention too closely to his face, they’d spot the subtle differences when he looked upon each one of us.
 
Seeing me, his eyes crinkled with mischief—the usual look that one gave his best friend I suppose.
 
Stacy got an expectant smile, although the corners of his mouth didn’t turn up nearly as much as I think they should have.

But Lark…there was something about the way his green eyes grew intensely bright, the color deepening to a rich hunter green, then quickly faded into a nearly dull, lifeless olive that told me far more than anything else that “like” wasn’t what he felt for her at all.
 
I felt my heart clench at that realization.

My head whipped around to Lark to see if she had heard my thoughts, but to my relief she had not.
 
Instead, her face was riveted onto his, probably seeing the same differences that I had and drawing her own conclusions.
 
But what would those conclusions be?
 
Would they be similar to mine?
 

As the three of us sat down, Stacy taking her preordained seat beside Graham, I became aware of one important absence.
 
The seat beside me that should have been occupied by Robert was conspicuously empty.
 
I looked at Lark once more and thought of the question in a clear voice so that she’d hear it.

She turned to face me and smiled sadly.
 
“Robert had an errand to run during lunch.
 
He’ll be back soon,” she answered me, not realizing that I hadn’t actually asked the question out loud.
 
Thankfully, neither Stacy nor Graham seemed to have noticed as they were in the middle of a heated, though unusually quiet exchange.

They’re arguing about Valentine’s Day.

Lark hadn’t pried into their thoughts.
 
I knew she hadn’t, but her ability to hear what others were saying, even at a tremendous distance, prevented any sense of discretion, although Stacy seemed to have forgotten that as she lowered her voice even more to a low hum.
 
Lark shook her head and turned to face me, her expression one of dismay and hurt.
 
For most normal high school kids, a month was more than enough time to get over a snub—even one as shocking and disappointing as the one Graham had dealt her—but for Lark, time passed by in blinks.
 
It doesn’t matter what you are:
 
human or angel, hurt like that cannot fade in a blink.

You went from being wholly naïve to being surprisingly astute in the span of just an hour.
 
I’m proud of you.
 
A wan smile replaced the grimace that had marred the angelic beauty of her face and I smiled in return.
 
I didn’t know what else to do as we sat there, trying very hard not to listen to the argument going on right in front of us while also trying to pretend that we were completely oblivious to it.

“Lark, could you come with me to the bathroom, please?”

Lark and I both turned to look at a red-faced Stacy with Lark nodding a reluctant yes as she stood up.
 
She and Stacy headed off towards the restroom and I immediately turned to glare at Graham.

“Don’t give me that look, Grace.
 
I didn’t do anything but ask Stacy to the dance,” he said, the scowl on his face mirroring my own.
 
“How was I supposed to know you guys had plans?”

I feigned disgust as I processed what he had just revealed.
 
Stacy had lied to him!
 
I looked around us to make sure that no one was within earshot and then leaned in, my voice barely above a whisper as I spoke.
 
“Why did you ask her in the first place?”

He shrugged his shoulders.
 
“Isn’t that what a boyfriend is supposed to do?
 
Ask his girlfriend to some kind of dance?”
 
He sighed and slunk down in his chair, his eyes flitting back and forth, the same concern for eavesdroppers apparently filling his own head.
 
“Truth is, I wanted to ask Lark.
 
I like Stacy—I really, really do—but she and I are just going to end up breaking up.
 
You know it, I know it.
 
Even Stacy knows it.”

He didn’t have to go any further for me to know that.
 
I already knew what his mouth couldn’t say.
 
I wanted to encourage him to tell Lark how he felt, but before I could lean in even further, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, warning me that something bad was about to happen.

I couldn’t have been any more right.

I spun around in my seat as the screech reached us from across the cafeteria.
 
It wasn’t that the sound was nail-on-a-chalkboard piercing, or that it felt like it was bouncing off the walls—a testament to the sound construction of the school, or the universal disgust that had led most students to eat elsewhere—but rather the fact that I recognized it.

From a distance, it looked like some kind of gold and black striped fan was being waved around in the air as a pair of dancers circled the cafeteria floor.
 
A quick flash of a hand, a swift lifting of a leg, and the blond half of the fan was on the ground while the shrieking grew ever louder.

“I’m going to
kill
you for that,” the voice cried out as the golden arc stood up.
 

“Oh. My. God.”

Erica Hamilton struggled to stand as the black haired individual laughed, the sound melodious, like a scale of bells ringing in unison.
 
“I don’t think so,” Lark’s voice chimed, and I turned to look to Graham, who watched with rapt fascination as the two girls once again began their dance.
 
My only question was where had Stacy gone.

A figure stood up, as if to answer me and I gasped.
 
Stacy’s forehead was covered with blood, the unstoppable flow sliding down her cheek and onto the floor.
 
I rushed forward and reached her just as a wave of dizziness hit her, causing her to lurch forward in a faint.
 
Graham was beside me as I struggled to lower Stacy to the ground.
 
He removed his button-down shirt and handed it to me.
 
I balled it up and placed it beneath her head as he used his undershirt to dab at the blood that was still flowing freely from a gash on her forehead.

Behind us, the battle between Lark and Erica came to a halt.
 
An angry Mr.
Branke
and an even angrier Madame
Hidani
were holding the two girls apart.
 
Okay, so both teachers were holding a frantic Erica back while Lark snarled.
 
Not a single hair on her head was out of place, her clothing lay smooth and wrinkle free on her body, while Erica’s hair resembled a tumbleweed straight out of some old western movie, and her clothing showed some significant tears and staining.

“What’s going on here?” Mr.
Branke
asked, taking a lazy blow to the side of his head without so much as a blink when Erica reached through her cage of arms to try to claw at Lark, another piercing shriek the only sound she seemed capable of making at the moment.

Lark tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear and motioned towards Stacy on the ground.
 
It was then that everyone else noticed the three of us crouched on the cafeteria floor, a bloodied Stacy unconscious in my arms, a worried Graham dutifully pressing down on her wound with his shirt, a cold gleam in his eyes directed at his ex-girlfriend.

“Stacy and I were returning from using the restroom when Erica came out of nowhere and shoved Stacy into the doorway.
 
Stacy hit the edge of the door and fell to the ground, and Erica tried to kick her while she was down.
 
I wasn’t about to let that happen, so I hit her.”
 
Lark’s voice was flat, her demeanor nonchalant, but I knew by the way each word caused Erica to flinch that “hit” wasn’t the only thing that she had done.

Erica’s clawed hands turned into an accusatory point directed at Lark’s head, howling as she did so.
 
“She
did
something to me.
 
I could hear her in my head.
 
I think she drugged me!”

Lark rolled her pale gray eyes at the sudden outburst and I could have sworn I saw Madame
Hidani
do the same.
 
“If you’re hearing voices in your head then that surely explains a lot.”

All around us, murmurs of agreement could be heard.
 
The cafeteria was now full of gawkers and onlookers, curious to see who had drawn the wrath of Erica Hamilton this time.
 
No one expected it to be Lark and the fact that—essentially—she was blind only fueled the growing disgust.

“You blind freak!” Erica screamed, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd surrounding us.
 
“It’s no wonder you’re friends with Grace.
 
Freaks!
 
You’re all freaks!”

Mr.
Branke
, finally tired of being pummeled by Erica’s flailing hands, grabbed both of them and pulled them behind her, forcing her shoulders to hunch back and a cry of pain to disrupt her rant.
 
“Come on, Miss Hamilton.
 
I’m taking you to the Vice-Principal’s office.”

Madame
Hidani
, now accompanied by the school nurse, knelt beside me to see how Stacy was doing.
 
I could feel the fear bubbling within me as I stood up and moved aside to give them room; she hadn’t woken up yet, hadn’t even moved.
 
Graham, too, stood up to allow them room, and the two of us stood silently as they ran through a virtual checklist of things to see how bad things were.

I felt a strong hand grip my shoulder and I glanced up, but it wasn’t Graham’s eyes I was looking into.
 
“Robert,” I sobbed, and felt myself collapse into his waiting arms.
 
“I don’t understand why—Erica just attacked Stacy out of the blue, for no reason, and now Stacy won’t get up.”
 
I fought back the urge to start sobbing, biting my tongue to distract me.

“
Shh
.
 
It’s okay, she’s going to be fine,” he whispered in my ear.
 
I sighed with relief and eased myself away from him.
 
Sensing my intent, his grip on me tightened.
 
Grace, I’m not going to do anything
—
I can’t, remember?

Foolishly, I had hoped that the little stipulation about him being unable to use his healing ability for anyone but me could somehow be put aside for a friend, but apparently the rules applied no matter the person.
 
I nodded my head to acknowledge his thoughts and hid my face against his chest, not wanting to witness what was going on behind me.

“It’s okay, Grace.
 
She’s waking up.
 
Look.”

Tentatively, I peeked out from the shelter of Robert’s arms.
 
Stacy’s eyes were open.
 
Well, only one eye; the other eye was sealed shut by dried, crusty blood.
 
She was mumbling something to Lark who was kneeling beside her, her hands wrapped around Stacy’s upraised one.
 
Graham, still standing silently beside me, looked pale.
 
I could only imagine what was running through his mind but whatever it was, it wasn’t doing anything but adding to the difficulty he already faced with the battles going on inside of him.