Crossing the Barrier (6 page)

She was about to run when Sandra grabbed her arm. Her friend’s gesture quieted the assaulting emotions, which were replaced by Sandra’s only. Lily was so relieved she sagged and would have fallen to the ground if Sandra hadn’t held her.

“Yes, you can do this,” her best friend said as she pulled Lily to her regular seat. “Not only can you, but you must!”

“Everybody, please take your seat,” the director called as Sandra let go of her.

The sudden loss of contact made the army of ants come back in full force, and Lily was thankful she was sitting. The contents of her stomach were now starting to rebel, and she felt a moment of panic. As everybody took their seats, the emotions were slowly replaced by a rational form of concentration, and she sighed in relief.

Reprieve.

Thankfully, the rest of the practice went relatively well, despite Lily’s many mistakes, and by the time they made their way outside to execute their march, Lily felt a lot more in control, if not still on edge. She was, however, beginning to sport a spectacular headache from concentrating so hard.

“Do you think it’s the varsity team practicing on the field?” Sandra asked, making her way to her.

Their shoulders touched, and the ants instantly disappeared. Lily released a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding.

“I don’t know,” she answered.

“We should go and see once we’re done.”

“No. Not a good idea. Besides, they’ll finish way earlier than we will.”

“Okay, okay,” Sandra conceded, taking a step back and raising her hands in surrender. “It would have been fun. Just saying.”

“No,” Lily repeated, bringing her hand to her temple to try to massage the renewed pain away. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“It’s not better?” Sandra asked, pointing at Lily’s head.

“When you touch me, it is.”

Sandra took a step toward Lily, making sure their shoulders touched again. “Better?”

Lily nodded, giving her friend a sad smile.

“So to come back to Malakai—”

“Stop, Sandra, please. He may be cute and all, but I’m not a groupie, nor will I be.”

“Okay. Don’t take it that way.”

Lily knew Sandra meant well and wanted to help her, but Lily didn’t want to throw herself at anybody. She had enough problems as it was. Besides, for all she knew, the rumors were true, and Malakai was dating someone already.

Chapter Nine

MALAKAI

When the alarm
went off, Malakai pushed the snooze button and put his arm over his eyes. Even half awake, he smiled. Today was the first day of school, and as opposed to most of his friends, he was looking forward to it.

School meant people, lots of them.

If he were lucky, he might even run into Lily, whom he hadn’t seen since visiting her in the hospital. He hoped he would be lucky.

Then reality came crashing in.

With a sigh, he removed his arm from his eyes and sat. He turned off the alarm clock before it went off again, and listened carefully. He didn’t hear anything.

He got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. When he passed the coffeemaker, he turned it on, then made his way to his father’s bedroom. It looked unused. He then glanced into his father’s bathroom.

His father was military and, as a very disciplined man, he never allowed anything to be out of place. Water in his bathroom sink was the only thing that would indicate the sergeant major had been home.

The sink was dry, which disappointed Malakai to no end. He wanted to talk to his father about his classes, football, and his college offer. He wanted to tell him how excited he was about heading to South Texas and about the upcoming season.

It wasn’t to be so.

The sergeant major had not come home.

Again.

Like always, it seemed lately.

While most of his friends complained about their parents, Malakai secretly envied their home life. For him, home life consisted of a mother who had disappeared, never to be seen again, and an absentee father. He was lucky if he saw his father once a month.

Ever since his mother’s disappearance and his grandmother’s death, the sergeant had run his house like a military barrack. The discipline had been tough on Malakai at first, but he had come to realize that in his despair over the loss in his wife, his father had reverted to the only thing he knew and felt comfortable with. His father had thrown himself into his work, and shortly after Malakai turned seventeen, the sergeant announced he had been promoted.

“I won’t be home a lot, but you’re grown up now,” he had said, giving Malakai the keys to the family jeep. “You know what to do, and you don’t need me as much. I trust you to do the right thing when I’m gone.”

And Malakai had.

Except one time.

A couple of months after his father’s promotion, the sergeant had come home to find dirty dishes in the sink and clothes scattered around the apartment. That weekend, his father had Malakai clean the entire place with a toothbrush. Well, he had used three, but who was counting...

After washing the dishes and cleaning the floor, the bathrooms, and any other surfaces the sergeant deemed needed attention, Malakai had learned his lesson. He swore he would never leave the apartment in any condition other than spotless, especially since he never knew when the sergeant would come home.

Even though he was mostly by himself, Malakai was provided with everything he needed without being overly spoiled, and wanted for nothing. In return, the sergeant expected nothing more than good behavior, good grades, and for Malakai to stay out of trouble.

Most of Malakai’s friends would envy his home situation, but he was terribly lonely. He wanted his father present, he wanted his help, and he wanted his advice.

But he was getting none of it.

His friends had no idea how lucky they really were.

With another sigh, Malakai made his way back to the kitchen and glanced at his phone on the counter. His father had given him a number to call in case he needed anything, but Malakai had learned a long time ago the sergeant never answered. During the first two months of his absence, Malakai had called to find out when he was coming home, and his father had called him back the first and second time, but that was it. Like his mother before, his father had basically disappeared, and Malakai found himself all alone.

Maybe today…

Malakai picked up the phone and dialed the number he had saved over half a year ago. He put his phone to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times. After the fifth ring, the impersonal messaging system picked up followed by the beep.

“It’s my first day of school today,” Malakai muttered. He clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm. “Oh and South Texas offered me a full ride,” he continued, a tingling sensation behind his eyes. “Do you have any idea how much it blows to announce my news to your voice mail?” he added, sounding as calm as possible despite his clenched teeth.

Without adding a word, he hung up. He was about to throw his phone across the room but stopped himself just in time. The sergeant would never replace it if he knew Malakai had broken it in anger. Before he did any damage to the device, he put it on the counter and went to his bedroom to shower and change.

After a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, he put the dishes in the dishwasher and left for school.

Chapter Ten

LILY

“Why up so
early?” Beatrice asked, walking into the kitchen, yawning.

Even though Beatrice was barely awake, her makeup was top-notch and her hair was perfectly styled. Her nightgown and bathrobe were made of the most expensive silk money could buy.

And even that early in the morning, Beatrice held onto her resentment like an army protecting its fortress, and the full force of it slammed into Lily, making her stomach turn. Lily threw her toast on her plate. She certainly wouldn’t be able to finish her breakfast now.

“First day of school,” she answered.

“Oh.”

Lily wasn’t surprised Beatrice didn’t know school was beginning that day. In fact, her mother couldn’t care less.

After her dad had died, Lily had to register for school herself since her mother never cared enough to do it or help her. Good thing her uncle cared and was there to help her navigate all the paperwork. Lily also did her own registering for all her activities, and her uncle signed the forms and wrote the checks. If anyone knew Charlie was technically not her legal guardian, no one ever said anything. He was the one paying and it was enough for the school.

“I have an event tonight,” Beatrice said lightly. “Do look your best for dinner.”

In reality, Lily felt Beatrice didn’t want her anywhere near the house.

“You want me here?” she asked, pretending she didn’t already know the answer.

Lily should not be playing that game. She should just say no.

“Of course I do,” Beatrice lied, a smile on her face. “After all, there’s still hope I can make someone out of you yet.”

Lily knew Beatrice didn’t believe a word of it. She believed Lily was the lowest of the low, and nothing could be done with her.

Lily’s heart constricted, despite the facade she was working hard to maintain. In times like these, she wished with all her heart her father were still alive. He had always believed in her, and Beatrice wouldn’t have dared say any of this had he still been there.

“I’m someone, Beatrice. I’m an honor roll student, and a first chair and soloist in the band.”

“Oh! Who cares about that?” Beatrice asked, waving her hand dismissively. “You have to have prestige and connections. Of course, you’re so your father’s daughter, it’s to be expected you wouldn’t understand nor know anything about that,” she added with a chuckle.

Beatrice turned to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup, all the while feeling self-satisfied, no doubt because she had taken a stab at someone so early in the morning.

“Yes, I
am
and will always be my father’s daughter,” Lily said, taking a sip of juice. It tasted sourer than usual.

“Shame. You could be so much better, so much more,” Beatrice said with a shrug.

Beatrice didn’t believe it and neither did Lily. To Beatrice, Lily was broken beyond repair, never mind that she wasn’t a toy.

“I don’t want to.” Lily already felt it: disappointment, disapproval, and a profound sense of disdain. Despite the fact she already knew about those feelings, Lily wanted to cry.

She had never understood why Beatrice hated her so. She had lived with her for the last seventeen years and had hoped Beatrice would eventually warm up to her. But Beatrice had never, ever liked her nor wanted her. She had always been jealous of the relationship Lily had had with her father, as if Lily had stolen him from her somehow.

Lily had to get out of there before tears came to her eyes. Her breakfast sat uncomfortably in her stomach, and the last thing she wanted was to give Beatrice the satisfaction of seeing how much she affected her.

“Oh, look at the time. I’m running late.” Quickly, she grabbed the rest of her toast and left the kitchen.

She hated to be home. She didn’t belong there. Why couldn’t Beatrice be like Sandra’s mother, Nicole? At least Nicole knew exactly when school began. She even knew Lily’s and Sandra’s class schedules. And how many times had her uncle or Nicole driven her to school? Lily had lost count.

She quickly ran to her bedroom, gathered her school bag and her computer, and ran down the stairs. A few moments later, she was sitting in her car, letting it run to cool off. She texted Sandra, who rode to and from school with her, to let her know she was already waiting.

Five minutes later, Sandra opened the passenger door and got in the car. Closing the door, she turned to Lily, a broad smile on her face. “You’re ready early. In a hurry to see Malakai?”

“No. I just didn’t want to
inconvenience
Beatrice any longer than I had to.”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Sandra said, losing her smile. “I can only imagine how it is without your shields.”

“You know, I’m convinced I’ve been able to shield just because I didn’t want to feel her. I don’t know if I would have survived that long otherwise.”

A prickling sensation came to Lily’s eyes as she looked at the house her father had left her.

“We will be happy here, Lily,” he had said when they had moved in.

But his happiness had ended over a year earlier, and most of Lily’s had died along with him.

“It’s possible,” Sandra said, bringing her back to the present. “But seeing as you’re the only empath I know, I can’t really compare you to anyone else.”

Lily chuckled.

Sandra had coined the term
empath
when they had searched the Internet a few years back to find out if they could discover any other people like her. They had found nothing other than conspiracy theories.

Lily had been disappointed, but she hadn’t been surprised. She was convinced her power was a fluke, a rare genetic mutation, and she believed she was the only one with it. Besides, she had charcoal-gray eyes, and those too were anomalies in and of themselves.