Book of Love (19 page)

“
Hello,
Darling.”
His voice whispered over the screams in his
head.

I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, but
my lips were sealed. There was a foreign twang of both familiarity
and fear resonating through my thoughts. Greg laughed, knowing he
was making me uncomfortable. I forced back his image and thought
about Wes, focusing on him as someone grabbed Greg by the shoulder,
shoving him away from me.

“
Leave her alone,” Wes had
appeared beside me. He growled at Greg.

I took a deep breath, afraid it was the last
one I’d be able to sneak in before a fight broke out. Greg shoved
Wes away from him, causing Wes to flail backwards. Wes steadied
himself, about to charge back at Greg.

“
Hey,
hey!”
the teacher interjected. “Break it up!”

My eyes darted toward the teacher, seeing
him standing at his desk, clearly frightened. Seeing that he was a
small, rather rotund man, I was surprised he’d said anything at
all. With a closer look at his thoughts, I saw he had been driven
by his educational duties to keep the peace, and his promise to do
so. I twisted to face Wes, glaring at him to stop. His body was
taut, and his muscles flexed.

“
Control
yourself,”
I whispered through
clenched teeth, praying that his animal instincts wouldn’t kick in
and a bloodbath would ensue.

Gregory suddenly stood
tall, glaring at me and then Wes, as though he had discovered
something interesting that he hadn’t noticed before. “Well, would
you look at that,” he seethed under his breath. His gaze locked on
mine. “You’re a—and
you…”
His head snapped to meet Wes’s fuming mask. Greg
snorted, straightening his black leather jacket as he stood tall,
finding us—for some reason—more amusing than before. He nodded
toward the teacher as the teacher swallowed hard.

My heart pumped harder, the breath in my
lungs hot.

I was a
what?
And Wes was
a
who?

It was all I could think about. What was he
going to say? What was it that he knew about me?

Greg let one more exalted laugh pass his
lips before he turned and strode out of the room, no further
explanation offered.

As the door slammed behind him, Wes’s face
faded from anger to guilt. “Sorry Mr. Johnson,” he looked at the
teacher in a rueful manner.

The teacher seemed to be breathing again,
which was an improvement. He nodded, bracing himself against the
desk. He cleared his throat nervously, waving us away with his
other hand. “Oh, yeah… it’s fine.”

I grabbed Wes’s hand,
trying to pull him from the room, knowing that the seemingly
confident Mr. Johnson was about to be sick with nerves.
“
What was that?”
I hissed as we turned and walked away from the teacher. I was
confused.

I heard Wes swallow hard. “I don’t know, but
that kid knows something we don’t.”

I snorted as I grabbed the handle of the
door. “Something tells me that’s not a good thing, either.” I began
to regret taking the drugs from him.

Wes gave me a grave look of agreeability. “I
think you’re right. I don’t think we’re alone.”

Jane:

“
Hi.” I got into Max’s car,
remembering to buckle in this time.

Max smirked. “Thank you. You
remembered.”

He eyed my outfit, a dramatic change from
earlier. My mother had finally showed a bit of motherly grit,
forcing me to accompany her to the mall where she placed me in a
new pair of sale skinny jeans and a modest, yet form fitting long
cardigan. At the end of it, my mother was so drunk with a joy I
thought was gone forever, that she’d even splurged on a pair of
tall black riding boots.

“
Of course. I understand
your emphasis on vehicle safety…” I looked out the window. “I was
in a horrible accident when I was seven. Buckling in is something
I’ve always done. I think that one time, though, I just forgot
because…” I trailed off on purpose, hoping he could fill in the
blanks—blanks meaning I’d forgotten because all I could think about
was how lucky I was to be in his car.

Max’s smirk grew. “Oh, I
get it. You were
distracted.”
He winked at me and backed out of my driveway as
his headlights lit the front porch of the house, illuminating the
fact that my mother was standing in the window, watching us with a
proud look on her face.

I smiled to myself. Most people asked
further questions, or acted awkward when I mentioned the accident,
but Max hadn’t. He didn’t even seem curious, as though he already
knew about it. I twisted the ring on my finger, finding it was my
new nervous habit.

“
I hope
you’re hungry. My grandfather insisted on making a feast. Or
rather,
catering
a feast.”

I furrowed my brow. I’d never had anything
catered.

“
He’s rather old-fashioned
when it comes to entertaining. I tried to explain to him that when
people come over, there is no need to get so formal. He clearly
doesn’t get out much, nor does he have many guests—at least not for
the last fifty years.”

I smiled. “He’s probably lonely, Max. I
understand.” I pressed my palm against the seat, hoping the cool
leather could cause the blushing in my cheeks to stop.

“
Yeah, his interest in
history bores most, so as you can imagine, the result is a lack of
people willing to listen.” He tapped his fingers against the wheel,
exuding an aura that I would never find to be interested in history
of any kind. “But when I told him you had a special interest in his
brand of history, he nearly fell over with excitement. He’s a
ninety-six year old man; not much happens in his life
anymore.”

It felt good to know that, but where were
Max’s parents? Would I meet them, too? “What about your parents?
They don’t visit?”

I saw Max’s features change, and the glimmer
in his eye disappeared.

“
I mean…”
I knew that look, and I instantly wanted to take my comment back. I
shut my eyes, cursing to myself.
Of
course!
Why hadn’t I figured it out
sooner?

“
They died a long time
ago.” His voice was monotone.

My body tensed, afraid I’d made him angry.
It was then that I was reminded of his visible strength, and the
fact that I still didn’t know that much about him. “I—I’m so sorry.
I…” I was tripping over my words like an idiot. What could I
possibly say to reconcile?

He twisted his hands on the wheel.

“
I…” I swallowed, hoping
that by relating, it could help. “My father is dead,” I blurted,
finding it came across rather blunt. “I mean… what I meant to say
is that, I understand.” I bowed my head. I’d ruined everything.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Max turned the wheel to turn around a
corner. We headed out of town on the main road, close to where the
accident and my father’s death had happened, making me increasingly
uncomfortable. An image of my father flashed across my mind,
laughing as we played catch in the yard on a summer day. I tried to
press the image away.

Max seemed to relax a little. “It’s
alright.” He looked at me, the tenderness in his blue eyes
filtering back. “Like I said, they died a long time ago, Jane. It
doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

He gave me a shaky smile, and I found it
hard to believe that he meant what he said. His reaction certainly
didn’t seem as though he were over it. And the toughness explained
a lot about his somber exterior. I began to wonder what happened to
them. My eyes fell to the tattoos on his arms.

He noticed me. “One is for my mother, the
other for my father.” He released one hand from the wheel, tilting
his forearms toward me. “Wings.”

I lifted my hand to touch it. “May I?”

His eyes scanned my face before he
nodded.

I touched my hand to his skin. It was cold
as always, yet it sent warm tingles across my skin. “You’re so
cold.” I remarked.

He eyed me. “Bad circulation.”

I traced the scalloped outline of one wing,
and then pressed my palm against the length of it. It was as though
I could feel his pain, and the loss of his parents. There was
something appealing in the meaning—the death. I saw the look on
Max’s face change, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes.

“
My
grandfather is the only family I have left…” he paused.
“Well,
almost.”

“
Almost?” I pulled my hand
away.

“
I have a brother,
too.”

My ears perked. I felt this was my chance to
learn some more about this illusive mystery student that had lurked
in my dreams. “Oh. A brother! Does he live here as well? Is he
older? Younger?” I already knew the answers to most of this, but I
figured that by pretending I hadn’t known I’d learn more about
him.

Max laughed at my sudden burst of energy,
the mood taking a turn for the better. “He’s younger, by a few
minutes.”

“
So, twins?” I
pressed.

“
Yes, but not identical.”
His flash of humor was once again gone.

I placed my hand on the
armrest of the door, mindlessly tracing my finger around the button
for the window. The ring on my hand was glowing lightly. A part of
me sensed an unease toward the subject of his brother. I dropped
this conversation as well. I watched the shadowy trees pass by,
imagining my father, Max’s tattooed wings, and the beings I’d seen
that day, or at least
imagined
I’d seen.

A cello began to play in my head, the very
song my mother played to me after the accident. She used to be a
beautiful cellist, her songs draped with love and gentle
melodramatic melodies. She would play to us as we fell asleep, the
music trailing from the living room and up the stairs into our
rooms. As the sadness of the accident faded, and the wounds healed,
her playing grew less and less, until she no longer played at all.
It was as though her love had slowly died away, and as my father’s
memory left her, so did her life.

When she was gone at work, I began to teach
myself, still longing to hear the music. Playing helped me to hold
onto him and ease the early anxiety my dreams often gave me. She
would have been angry if she knew I’d played, but it was one of the
things I did in order to feel alive, and now, my dreams created the
music for me. The orchestras in my head were all I needed at
times—the music and the drawing were what kept me going.

“
Beautiful.” Max finally
spoke.

The music in my head stopped, and I shot my
gaze to his. “What’s beautiful?” I accused.

He stared forward, his head tilted and
relaxed. “You are.” His lip curled and he looked to the woods.
“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”

I relaxed and turned away from him, looking
out my window. The refection of trees glittered under the light of
the headlights, dew beginning to grow as the evening temperatures
dropped. “Yes, it is.” I swallowed. “I love it here. I love the
trees.”

“
They play their own sort
of melody, don’t they?” His eyes met mine, glimmering as though he
knew my music.

“
Sure,” I
gawked, narrowing my vision. “Like a
symphony,”
I challenged.

His eyes grazed across my body. “Exactly.”
He winked.

I stopped
breathing.
What did that mean?

Wes:

“
Wes, should we just ask
Gregory what he knows about us?” Emily’s voice was full of
uncertainty.

“
Ask
him?”
I snorted, crossing my arms
against my chest. “I’m not asking him anything. Are you nuts? Did
you not just see what happened back there?” I pointed over my
shoulder for dramatic effect, trying to make my point. “I will
never talk to that kid again, come Hell or high water.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I just thought…” She
looked hurt by my reaction.

I grabbed her arm,
spinning her to face me. “Are you…
defending
him?” My gaze
narrowed.

“
No, Wes,” she denied, but
her eyes spoke otherwise.

“
Emily,”
I hissed. “You were
there. He’s a complete jerk!”

She looked at me with sheepish eyes.

“
Wait…” my grip on her arm
tightened. “Is he one of your dealers? Is that why you’re defending
him?”

“
No! I
mean, well yes, but…” She squirmed in my grasp. “I don’t know
what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to defend him at all! But
something inside me wants to leave him alone, as though I don’t
want him getting hurt, or—
something.”

I felt sorry for her. She was clearly just
trying to be nice. I couldn’t understand her compassion, though.
The guy was a freak at best, not to mention the creepy vibe he gave
off.

“
Wes,
what’s happening to us? Why are we all so
stra—”

I stopped her, pressing my fingers to her
lips and pulling her close to me. “I don’t know, Em,” I whispered.
The sorrow in her eyes made my heart ache. I kissed her nose,
sensing her need to be comforted. I brushed her auburn hair from
her face, admiring the freckles on her cheeks that she finally
allowed to show. “But that does not change the fact that I’m
falling in love with you.”