Call Out (14 page)

“It’s overwhelming you. Confusing you. Like
when you were in high school,” I guessed.

“A little. It’s easier now to separate my own
feelings, at least. But...it’s worse, too. I....” He leaned
forward, resting his weight on his arm against the wall. “It’s not
just that I can’t keep other people out, now. I also can’t seem to
control the whole projecting thing.”

Unease trickled down my spine even before his
words sank in. When they did, when the full weight of what he was
saying hit me, I began to see my earlier meltdown in a new light.
Some of the feelings I hadn’t understood surely had been his
emotions instead of my own.

Doubt came creeping in on the heels of the
relief brought about by my realization. If the guilt and grief I’d
felt earlier had been London’s, the doubt said, then what about the
unexpected and overwhelming desire? What about the more tender
feelings I’d had for him? Were they mine, or his? Or worse, were
they maybe Brian and Dylan’s feelings for each other refracted
through the prism of London’s powers?

London turned around, leaning back against
the wall, but he couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered.

I didn’t know what to say, and it wouldn’t
have mattered anyway. London pushed away from the wall and fled the
room before I had the chance to say a single word.

When the door opened again a few minutes
later, I had finished my repacking, found and put on socks and
shoes, and was sitting on the bed, hugging the battered old teddy
bear I’d fished out of my suitcase. My mind, heart, and body were
all exhausted, and I wanted nothing more than to be curled up safe
and sound in my own bed, under my own blankets, with my oldest,
truest friend, Benny. I don’t remember where he got his name, and
neither does anyone else, but Benny the bear had been the one
constant in my life since I’d gotten him. In nearly thirty-five
years, he had never let me down.

I must have looked pretty pathetic sitting
there cuddling my archaic bear, because the second that Brian
managed to drag his eyes away from the closed bathroom door, he
made a beeline for the bed. He sat down on the edge of the
mattress, facing me, and opened his arms. It was all I could do to
not fling myself at him. Instead, I inched forward until he could
wrap me and Benny in a comforting hug. Oddly, it wasn’t the first
time I’d found myself in this same situation, but with my mind in
the state it was in, I couldn’t remember why we’d ended up like
this before.

Dylan emerged from the bathroom a few minutes
later. From the look on Brian’s face when he turned to look at her,
it was obvious that all he saw was the woman he was head-over-heels
in love with, not the baggy AC/DC shirt and cheap yoga pants or the
way her wet hair stuck out in all directions like she’d had an
accident involving a fork and a power outlet. She joined us for a
much-needed group hug that I ended soon after, not wanting to be
selfish. Brian and Dylan held on to each other for a while longer
before she let him go with a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Where’s London?” she asked.

“Waiting in the hallway,” Brian replied,
reaching out to capture her hands. “He wants us to stay together as
much as possible. He says Julia’s furious, and he’s afraid she’ll
come after us.”

“Not dead, then,” Dylan said. “More’s the
pity.”

Brian pulled her down to sit on his lap, the
position awkward since he was perched on the edge of the bed. “You
said earlier you didn’t want to tell your story more than once,
that you wanted Elizabeth to hear it when I did.”

Dylan shook her head. “Not fair to leave
London pacing the hallway while we talk about this. I’ll tell you
in the car.”

I glanced around at all of the suitcases and
wondered how we’d manage to get the four of us and our luggage into
the rental car. The trunk had been pretty full before without
Brian’s gear. I had a feeling it was going to be a cramped,
uncomfortable ride across town. At least the streets should be
clear of traffic this time of night.

Brian kissed Dylan again and then patted her
hip to tell her to get up. Dylan rounded up all the toiletries and
whatnot out of the bathroom while Brian and I made a final sweep of
the hotel room, making sure we had everything packed and ready to
go. That done, we carted everything out into the hallway. Dylan
dragged the boys’ rolling cases, and Brian tried to juggle his and
London’s carry-ons as well as his guitar. I shouldered my backpack,
took London’s from Brian over his protests, and dragged my own
rolling case out behind Dylan, leaving Brian to glance over the
room one last time and shut the door behind us.

London sat on the floor in the hallway, back
to the wall, knees up, head buried in his hands. As we spilled out
of the hotel room, he raised his head just enough to peer up at us.
I expected him to get up, but he just sat there looking defeated.
It should have roused my sympathy and concern, but all I felt was
vague annoyance. Not knowing whether the feeling came from my own
exhaustion or was some echo of London’s emotions ratcheted the
annoyance up to irritation. I knew it wouldn’t take much to push me
over the edge to pissed off, so I sat London’s backpack beside him
and kept walking.

Halfway down the hallway, I felt a hand on my
arm. I knew it was Dylan even before I turned my head to glance at
her. She’d ditched London’s suitcase, I noticed. I also noticed
that she didn’t look annoyed or irritated or pissed. Maybe it
really was just me.

“We should probably wait for the boys,” she
said.

I nodded, and we both stopped to wait. I
looked back to see Brian crouched down beside London, talking to
him in a tone low enough that his voice didn’t carry down the hall.
He didn’t look irritated either. Guess I was just feeling bitchy.
Good to know.

After a moment, London nodded, rubbed his
eyes, and let Brian help him to his feet. He slung his backpack
over one shoulder, took hold of the suitcase handle, and followed
Brian down the hall. He still wouldn’t look at me, but I suppose
I’d kind of given him a reason, now.

Brian and Dylan led us out to the car, making
small talk about the hotel along the way. The place was still
beautiful, still luxurious, but I knew I’d always associate it with
the frantic search for Dylan and everything that went along with
it. Maybe one day I would be able to look back and find good
memories tucked in among the bad ones, but with the way things were
going right now, I kind of doubted it.

Once we were crammed in the rental car, with
a pile of backpacks between London and me in the backseat and
Brian’s guitar riding between Dylan’s feet, Brian asked Dylan again
to tell her story.

“I’d like to start at the beginning,” Dylan
said, “but I don’t remember the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked.

“I remember getting on the plane. I remember
landing. I even remember riding the little train from the gate to
the main building in the airport. But then there’s a big blank
space.”

“Like a blackout?” I asked.

Dylan nodded, and then said, “Yeah, pretty
much. The next thing I remember, I’m sitting in a chair in a room
that looked like Walt Disney threw up. I don’t think I ever want to
see Mickey Mouse again.”

“I can imagine,” I told her.

“Anyway, they kept me bound and gagged most
of the time. Sometimes I was tied to the chair and sometimes just
tied hand and foot and left on the bed or the floor. They would
move the gag to feed me or let me have water, and they’d untie me
to let me use the loo, but otherwise...yeah. Three days of not
moving sucks.”

“Did they hurt you?” Brian asked, reaching
for her hand.

Dylan threaded her fingers through his,
resting their joined hands on the console between them. “Sometimes
the redhead would mess with me. She wanted me to know what she was
capable of, Vanessa said, though I’m not really sure why.”

“She wanted you afraid,” London said, his
voice rough with emotion. “She wanted us to know you were
scared.”

“But you weren’t,” I said. “Not much, anyway.
At least not that we knew about, not until right before we showed
up.”

“The redhead....”

“Julia,” Brian interrupted.

“Whatever. She wasn’t around much at first,
and as long as it was just Vanessa, I really didn’t see any reason
to be scared. I guess I didn’t believe she’d do anything to hurt
me,” she said, reaching up to touch the knot on her head. “Still
can’t believe she did, actually.”

“You never said what happened to her,” I
pointed out.

“Brian did this crazy wrestling move thing on
her until she passed out.”

“I hope you at least kicked her on your way
out the door.”

Dylan made a small, amused sound. “I would
have if I’d been sure I could do it without falling down. I tried
to rescue my necklace from her and nearly fell on my face. Took a
little while to get used to the whole upright and mobile thing
again.”

“You should have said something,” Brian
added. “I’d have been happy to help you out with that kicking
thing.”

Dylan laughed, and Brian answered with a
smile. They were so freaking cute it should have made me ill, but I
was way too happy for them to mind.

“You did get your necklace back, right?” I
asked. Brian had bought the necklace – a delicate rose gold pendant
– for Dylan just after they’d met, during the day we’d spent in Key
West. It was one of her most prized possesions.

“Brian got it back for me,” she said,
reaching up with their joined hands to touch the necklace through
her shirt.

“Good,” I said.

We all lapsed into a brief, easy silence for
a few minutes before London asked, “What Julia did to you...what
was it like?”

For several minutes, Dylan stayed quiet. When
she answered, her voice was low, so quiet that her words were
almost lost beneath the hum of the engine and tires on the
road.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she
said.

“You don’t have to....” Brian began, but
Dylan cut him off.

“Yeah, I do. I do have to,” she said. She
took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “She started out small
and worked her way up, but even at the beginning it was scary
because it didn’t make sense. Magic isn’t real, or at least that’s
what we’re taught. But I got to experience it up close and
personal.”

“What do you mean she started out small?” I
asked.

“What she did was she made me feel
things.”

“Emotional things?” Brian asked.

Dylan shook her head. “Physical.”

“Pain, in other words,” I said.

“Not just pain,” Dylan answered, turning to
stare out the window at the neon lights.

Not just pain? Oh. Oh, yuck. I know I
wouldn’t want to feel pleasure at Julia’s metaphysical hands. I
thought again about the overwhelming desire that had landed me in
bed with London, and wondered if Julia had used that
pleasure-inducing ability in their fight. The thought that magical
lust had pushed us to have sex made me want to hurl. Or punch Julia
in the face. Or maybe hurl in Julia’s face.

“So, yeah,” Dylan continued. “First it was
just this creepy-crawling sensation, like caterpillars walking all
over me.”

“Ew.” I shivered. I’m not a girly-girl, but
bugs are so not my thing.

“Yeah, exactly. She moved up to itching,
which was really annoying. And then to aches like you get with the
flu. Then she switched gears, and that’s when I started to get
scared. I think that might have been this morning.” She was quiet
for another minute or two, watching the city go by. “Tonight was
the worst though. I...I’m not even sure how to describe it.”

“It’s kind of like a really bad electric
shock,” I said.

Dylan turned to look at me. “That’s what she
got you with?” I nodded, and Dylan frowned. “But it didn’t hit me
nearly as hard as it did you.”

I shrugged. “Maybe for me she turned it up to
eleven. One point twenty-one gigawatts of pure pain, all at once,
all for me.”

London startled all of us with a strangled
laugh. “You nearly fucking die, and instead of poetic reminiscences
about white light and heavenly beings, you describe it with one of
the geekiest, most mixed-up quotes I’ve ever heard.”

Brian glanced at London in the rearview
mirror and flashed him a smile. “Told you,” he said.

“You did,” London admitted. His smile faded
then, and he turned again to look out the window.

I wondered what it was Brian had told him,
but I knew better than to ask. What I did know was that whatever it
was had made London close himself off again and brought gloom
crashing back in to replace his momentary cheerfulness. And when
London ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.

Emotional darkness squeezed its way into the
car, making the last few miles of our drive seem endless. Days
later, we made it to our hotel. Brian texted Adrian to let him know
we were there, he and London picked up their room keys, and then
helpful bellmen took charge of our baggage and led us up to our
rooms. London stayed as far away from all of us as he could, even
insisting on taking a separate elevator. Brian, of course, wouldn’t
let him go alone, so Dylan and I accompanied the bellman and left
the boys to follow.

We stepped out of the elevator to find Adrian
waiting for us. He and Dylan had met briefly a couple of months
before when the band’s tour had taken them through Dallas. I’d been
swamped with school and hadn’t been able to make it up to see Brian
and meet his friends. Dylan had only gotten a handful of hours with
her boyfriend and a few minutes with the rest of the band and
crew.

Despite the brevity of their previous
contact, Adrian greeted Dylan like an old friend, with a brief
embrace that didn’t quite count as a hug. He introduced himself to
me, and we shook hands. Dylan used Brian’s key card to let us into
his room, where we had the bellman leave all the luggage. Soon
after the bellhop disappeared back downstairs, London and Brian
showed up. A few minutes later, Kent, or Kenny as the boys tended
to call him, joined us, too.