Cursed (21 page)

“Sure.” He snuck a hand under my sweater and splayed it across my shirt. “Anything.”

“What made you decide last night to be okay with…?”

“I like it when you blush. Brings out your eyes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of my hair back with his free hand. “I realized I wouldn’t lose control. Not with you. I…” He stopped, smiled slyly. “I just wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

I could tell there was more to it. “And you believed I wouldn’t hurt you?”

“I never believed you’d lose control, Em.” He reached up and threaded his fingers through my hair. “You’re good inside, better than any of us.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. I looked away, not wanting him to see how hearing him say that affected me.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, chewing on my lip. “It’s just that… that was really nice.”

His hand drifted out of my hair and fell to my hand. “Will you answer a question for me?” When I nodded, he continued. “What do you draw? Can I look?”

I rolled off him and grabbed for my sketchpad, but Hayden was just so much faster. “Hayden—don’t—you—dare!” He had the creased pad in his graceful hands—hands I had sketched.
Oh, God
. “Don’t open it!”

He glanced up with a grin. “What’s in it, Em?”

“Just stuff—look, no one has ever seen my sketches.”

“No one? Then I’d be honored if you’d let me see.”

Groaning, I ran a hand through my hair. “I suck. They’re really bad. You don’t want to see it.”

“Your cheeks are blood-red again,” he pointed out, settling back down on his arm.

“Yeah, well, then you shouldn’t look at it.”

“If it really bothers you, I won’t look at them.” He offered me the pad.

I stared at it. One last secret—maybe, and what? Our eyes met as I took it back from him. My drawings were private stuff, like a reflection of my innermost thoughts. Allowing someone to see them was like standing naked in front of a crowd, opening up in a way I’ve never considered. Then I remembered how he’d looked when he’d seen my scars for the first time. He hadn’t stared at them. He looked at my face, and not because he couldn’t bear to look at them, but because he hadn’t cared. They hadn’t mattered to him.

Making up my mind, I thumbed open the sketchpad after a few tries. The gloves made it difficult. “These… these were before the accident. Flowers, landscapes, and this was Sushi.”

Hayden sidled over to my side at some point. He peered at the mashed-up nose and squinted stare. “Wow. That
was
an ugly cat.”

I laughed softly, flipped to another page. “Dad.”

He stopped my hand before I could turn the page. “He looks like a kind man.”

I traced my fingers over the picture. I had drawn it from memory and it’d taken several tries to get the line of his jaw correct, and the slight bump in his nose. “He was.”

“Em, I’m really sorry about your dad.”

Swallowing, I nodded and turned another page. “This, of course, is Olivia and Mom. These are—”

“Seneca Rocks, Em, you’re really good. I mean it.”

“I don’t know. The edges could be softer, not so bleak and hard.”

He reached across me and turned the pages. He’d make a comment, brush his fingers over the drawing, and then flip to another page. When he came across the sketch I’d done of his hands, I don’t think he realized who they belonged to, but there was no stopping him.

I closed my eyes as he turned to the first sketch of him. He didn’t say anything. I don’t even think he breathed. All I could hear was the sound of him slowly going from page to page.

“When did you draw these?” he asked, his voice rough.

“The first one a couple of days after getting here, and the rest were over time.” I rubbed my hand under my chin and finally looked at him. He had this awestruck look on his face. His eyes were wide and bright, lips parted just enough to show a bit of teeth. “What?”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“It’s kind of creepy, huh?” I closed the pad and tossed it aside. “I don’t mean for it to be. You just have this face that’s all lines and curves. I… I had to draw it. I hope—” His mouth cut me off, stopping whatever lame excuse I was about to give. He leaned into me, deepening the kiss until I swam in the ecstasy of his mouth.

Hayden broke away reluctantly, easing down on his back. He stared up through the branches, his expression oddly pensive.

“Are you okay? Did… did I hurt you?”

“No,” he said quickly, finding my hand and squeezing it. “Do you want to know why I trust my father so much? Why I know he could never do anything to hurt you?”

Not the conversation I really wanted to have right now, but I nodded. “Okay.”

A brief smile pulled at his lips. “When I say he saved my life, I’m not exaggerating. Not just once, but twice. The first time was when he found me in foster care. If he hadn’t found me, I don’t think I would’ve survived.”

I sat back, still holding his hand. I didn’t dare speak, giving him the opportunity to continue.

“Things were bad. There were days when I didn’t get to eat. And if I was caught sneaking food? The beatings were… intense. And at first, things were better—so much better—at the Facility. Then they started this thing called the Assimilation Program, and I was a candidate for it. At first, Cromwell didn’t know all that the program entailed. It was headed up by Doctor Ishtar.” He paused, eyes squinting. “They used every possible method you can think of, Ember. Exposure therapy at its finest.”

“Exposure therapy?”

He nodded. “Because kids like me were having trouble controlling our gifts when we were, well, just about any time, the doctors would create high-stress scenarios that would provoke our gifts over and over until we became desensitized to the triggers. Some of the things they did would blow your mind.”

I wanted to ask what. Maybe it was just morbid fascination, but somehow common sense prevailed. “How long were you in the program?”

“Long enough,” he answered, sliding his hand out of mine. “When my father saw what it was doing to me—literally driving me crazy—he pulled me out and we came here. Since then, the Facility and Dr. Ishtar swear they’ve changed the program. I know he said he’d send you there, but, Ember, he never would. Even though the Assimilation Program works, it’s horrible. The things I had to do… “ He trailed off for several long moments. “Anyway, he would never do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Hayden tipped his head toward me and smiled. “Because he knows if that happened to you, it would hurt me.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Hayden. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, it’s over now.” His smile slipped away and he reached for me. “How much time do we have until dinner?”

“About two and half hours.”

“Hmm.” Then he tugged on my sweater, pulling me down so his mouth could reach mine. “Not enough time at all.”

Chapter 25

T
he rest of Thanksgiving break didn’t seem real—everything was great. It was like I was in some fictional dreamworld and in the morning, I’d have to go back to my real life. And in a bizarre twist, on Sunday morning, Cromwell handed over the keys to my Jeep.

I lifted my head and stared down at Hayden. My fingers itched to touch him, but he looked so content in sleep I didn’t want to bother him. So I brushed my fingers over my lips instead. They felt swollen and plump. We’d kissed a lot before he carefully tucked me against his chest, a sweater and a sheet separating our flesh.

We’ve been kissing a lot. It seemed like that was all we did. Oh. Well. We didn’t
just
kiss.

We did other things. Like talk. Touch. Practice with plants. Kiss. Eat. Sleep. Practice with plants some more. Every night he snuck into my room, kind of like the way things had been in the cabin.

Ah, I did miss the cabin.

Hayden shifted, his arm curling around my hips, pulling me closer. I placed my hands on his chest so I didn’t topple right on top of him. Not that I would’ve minded, but we couldn’t go longer than a minute. Which was an improvement over twenty seconds, but who knew if it was Hayden’s gift that had added the additional time?

There was no way to really test it unless I touched someone else.

“Out of the question,” I murmured, placing my cheek against his chest, where his heart beat. I closed my eyes and let out a little sigh.

The only thing we hadn’t done was talk about the accident. And I didn’t want to bring it up. My mind went back to the files in Cromwell’s office. I had no plans to tell Hayden about them. Things were just too perfect right now to ruin them. Well, almost perfect.

If only I could get rid of the nagging thought that when things are this perfect, they usually come to an end in one big, messy ball of flames.

* * *

“What have I learned from
Catcher in the Rye
?” repeated a student from the front of the class.

Mr. Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, that is the question.”

The same student leaned back in his seat. “Well, I’ve learned I’m probably going to fail English this semester.”

An eruption of laughter followed. Mr. Theo looked like he was nearing the end of his patience, showing a splinter in his easy manner. He’d looked that way since class had started.

A smile cracked my face even though it felt like someone was pounding an ice pick into my temple. When the bell sounded, I think Mr. Theo and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

I coasted through the rest of my morning classes. My chest swelled unexpectedly when I spotted Hayden slouched against my locker, waiting for me. Like it was nothing, he dropped his arm over my shoulder and grazed his lips over my temple.

Several kids glanced at us—mostly girls who looked like they’d trade their knock-off Prada shoes to be in my position.

“Hungry?”

“Always.” I tucked my hand into my sweater. “Diner?”

“If you don’t mind that Phoebe and Gabe join us?”

“That’s cool.” Not a total lie, but it also meant we had to act like we weren’t doing whatever we were doing. It wasn’t like we’d become official or something.

Then again, Hayden hadn’t skipped the PDA a few seconds ago.

Phoebe and Gabe were already at the diner when we walked in. I slid in first, then Hayden. The entire length of his thigh pressed against mine. I pulled a curl from behind my ear and started fiddling with it.

Phoebe’s bright gaze slid between us before settling on Hayden. She and I still weren’t talking, obviously. And I was making it a habit to not feel anything when I was around her. I wasn’t sure if it was working or not.

“Are you going to Charleston with Jonathan tomorrow?” she asked. “Parker’s going with him.”

“Nah, I’d rather sit in class.” Hayden stretched and dropped his hands in his lap.

“I think I’d skip class.” Gabe frowned at the menu.

“Is he going to be gone all day?” I asked, visions of files dancing in my head.

“Most of the day,” Hayden answered. “Probably won’t be back till late evening.”

“Oh.” I took a drink of my soda. Hadn’t Olivia mentioned at dinner that Liz would be going to class with her tomorrow? Something about a field trip involving a play. That meant no one would be home.

Gabe said something, but I’d stopped listening and was suddenly cold—shivering beside a boy who threw off boiling-level temperatures. Tomorrow would be perfect. No one would be home besides my mom— and let’s face it, she didn’t count. Who knew when I’d find another opportunity to see those files?

But did I want to know what was in them? What if I found something that changed everything? What if there was evidence that Cromwell had been behind the accident?

Hayden’s hand on my thigh brought me out of my thoughts. I kept my face straight and kicked him under the table. He squeezed in return.

If I did this—which I already knew I would—I needed to prepare myself for the possibility that Hayden would hate me forever for outing his father or another member of his adopted family. Phoebe’s locker stuff hadn’t done it, but this would be different, worse.

I glanced at Hayden, and a small, secretive smile graced his lips. That kind of smile usually set my skin aflame, but ice was building in my stomach.

* * *

Later that night, I talked things through with Mom. That went well— meaning I had a twenty-minute long conversation with myself—but I no longer held it against her. This wasn’t just about my dad, or me, or even Olivia.

Mom would never talk to me again. She’d only see Olivia, and from what I understood, she hadn’t been doing much of that lately. Olivia didn’t understand why and honestly, neither did I.

Before supper, I drew with Olivia. Besides absolutely refusing to stay on the paper, the kid had talent, more than I’d had at that age. Then again, Olivia’s talents were more than just her gift. She was sort of perfect.

I checked my email, more out of habit than anything else, and straightened my room while I waited for Hayden to show up. Yesterday, he’d removed all the plants from the room, except the snake one. I kept that one on my desk as a reminder of my success.

It still hadn’t died and well, I sort of loved that plant.

The soft sound of my door brushing over the carpet drew my attention. I turned off the computer and swiveled around in my desk chair. My stomach did the weird fluttery thing at the sight of his lopsided smile.

“No plants?” I asked.

Hayden shook his head and shut the door. “Thought we’d do something normal for a change.” He pulled a DVD out of his waistband and tossed it to me.

I caught it and flipped it over. “Didn’t this just come out in the theaters?”

“I cannot answer that question.” He tugged off his hoodie with a sly smile and dropped it on the floor. The long-sleeve shirt he wore underneath rode up a couple of inches. “Em, if you keep looking at me like that, we aren’t going to watch any movie.”

Blushing, I jumped up and busied myself putting the DVD in. It wasn’t my fault that I stared a little. He had that kind of effect. We started off watching the movie—honestly. But it was way too hard to pay attention from the moment Hayden tugged my ponytail down and started messing with my hair.

“I like your hair down.” He twisted his fingers through the curls.

My eyes drifted shut as I relaxed next to him. “It’s a mess. I need to get a haircut.”

Hayden’s fingers stilled. “No. You shouldn’t cut your hair. It’s beautiful.”

I would never cut my hair. Ever. “Pay attention to the movie.”

“I am.”

No, he wasn’t. He left my hair alone, only to circle his arms around my waist and tug me back against him. I let my head fall back against his chest and tried to focus on my plan. “Can I ask you something?”

He made some sort of affirmative sound. His breath stirred the hair at my temple.

“Do you mind if I drive to school tomorrow?” I held my breath.

“No.” His arms tightened. I warmed in a lot of places.

“I thought I could drive myself, you know? I haven’t in a long time and I thought it would nice to do it… by myself.”

Hayden turned me around in his arms in about a nanosecond. I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He looked incredibly serious. Oh no, this didn’t look good. “What?” I asked, a bit transfixed by how the different colors from the TV swayed over his face.

“If you want to drive yourself to school, Em, you don’t have to ask for my permission,” he said, tucking a curl behind my ear. “You can do whatever you want.”

“I know. I didn’t ask for that reason.” I felt terrible for lying. Terrible for what I planned to do tomorrow. Terrible that everything could change if I found something.

“Okay.” His dark gaze searched my face. I felt my stomach drop. “Em, do you like this? I mean, we haven’t really talked about this.” A faint blush stained his cheeks. “You know, about what we’re doing.”

Relief swamped me, but then I realized this was also a serious conversation. Like,
the
conversation. Were we moving to “title” territory? Somehow that seemed just as important as the files in Cromwell’s office.

I sat back. “What are we doing?”

Hayden ran a hand over his head, and then dropped his arm to his knee. “I really don’t know how to put what we’re doing into words.”

“Me, neither.”

“You know I… like you?”

“Like” was such a lame word. “Yeah.”

“For awhile now, and well, I don’t want how I feel about you to influence how you feel about me.”

I frowned. “Uh…”

A tiny grin appeared. “What I mean is—I don’t know what I mean.” He laughed self-consciously and shook his head. “I’m not very good at this. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know if what we have between us is because you can touch me, or something else.”

I’d never really looked at it that way, but I could see how he would. My options were painfully limited. “Hayden, are you asking me if I only like you because you’re the only guy I can touch?”

His gaze flicked off my face. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”

I scooted closer. “I like you because I can touch you.”

Hayden’s head jerked back to me. He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “Wait. It’s more than that. When I first came here, I didn’t trust you—trust any of you, really. But out of everyone here, you were nice to me. You talked to me and you… you believed in me. You didn’t treat me like a freak.”

“Because you’re not a freak,” he said seriously.

“I’ve felt like queen of the freaks for two years, but I never felt that way around you. Anyway, you’re funny and you’re nice. And you’re smart. I trust you—obviously. I’ve told you and showed you things that not even Adam knew about.” I shook my head. “And you’re—”

“Hot?” he asked with overt innocence.

I laughed. “That too, but it’s more than all of that. And I like you. I really do.” Even that sounded stupid to me. “I don’t know.” My pulse picked up, and my palms felt gross. “Does that tell you anything?”

“Yes,” he said softly.

“I don’t know what any of it means. I’m… not used to any of this, but yeah, I like you.”

Hayden scooted down, wrapping his hands around my arms. “You know I think you’re amazing.”

I knew my face was on fire. I think I nodded.

“And I don’t feel this way,” he brought my hands to his chest, over his heart, “about anyone else.” Hayden locked eyes with me, and I really felt on fire then. “So where does that leave us?”

“We’re… dating?”

“No.” His expression was full of desire, along with another emotion, one that thrilled and frightened me. “‘Dating’ doesn’t sound right.”

I swallowed, unable to look away. “Then, what?”

“I think you know.” Hayden pulled me forward as he lay back, his hands spread over my back. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“Come closer.”

I lowered my head. “Close enough?”

Hayden closed the minute distance between us and brushed his lips over mine. It was just a touch, but I stopped breathing all together. When the kiss deepened, I lost track of the world around me, and the fact that he never answered the question. Not that he needed to. This kiss was beyond silly titles. This kiss was something—I pulled back when I felt Hayden’s fingers spasm. We’d gone too long. Both of us were breathing heavily, and a sudden realization floored me.

This could be the last time I ever kissed him. A sharp, stabbing pain sliced through my chest. Would Hayden forgive me for exposing Cromwell?

I didn’t think so.

And I didn’t want to waste another moment with him. His hands spread up my back, over my shoulders. When he put some space between us, I made a sound of protest. But then his hands were on the move again, stealing down the front and under the hem of my shirt. His knuckles brushed close to my navel. At once, fire and ice coursed through me.

Somehow my shirt ended up on the floor, and I should’ve felt embarrassed. I’d never been this exposed with a boy before and with the scars… but in the soft light and under his intense stare, I’d never felt more perfect in my life.

His shirt stayed on, and so did the rest of his clothes. Obviously, we could only take this so far, but I could still feel the heat through his clothes and it felt amazing—especially when his hands grasped my hips and he held me close, our lips touching every so often, our bodies rocking together.

It was the simplest of touches that got to me the most. Just being able to be this close to him felt a thousand times better than anything I could ever imagine—like lightning shooting through my veins each time he whispered my name.

Amidst all these wonderful sensations, my heart swelled so big I was sure it would explode from my chest. I knew what it was. I knew what I was feeling.

I was in love with him.

* * *

My stomach twisted and turned from the moment I stepped into the shower until I climbed in my Jeep. Instead of focusing on the huge part of me that wanted to forget all of this, I set my plan into motion. A nervous sort of excitement thrummed through my veins and so did a measure of dread, but I felt kind of badass.