Insight (23 page)

I breathe in and relax. At least it’s not some ghost or shadow or anything. Wait. It’s Landon. I scan my room. This is it. The vision that turned from one of passion, into one of comfort.

Are Landon and I going to be okay? Do I want us to be? I suddenly don’t feel as tied to my visions as I once did. I mean, I think I changed my fate near the fire. I think. And Dad and I helped Carol, I’m pretty sure. It’s just hard to tell. Carol’s fight with her
heart might go on
for a long time.

He knocks again.

Am I still mad at him? Too mad to talk? The way I miss him crushes my chest.

“Are you awake in there?” He knocks again. “I need to say that I’m sorry.”

I take a huge breath in, forcing my chest to move, and unlock my window to pull it open.

“You could have just knocked on the door,” I say, only my voice sounds all funny.

And this is good. We’ve both said things, and neither of us has yelled.

“But your mom.” He’s standing outside with a T-shirt, light jacket, and jeans, pressed against the side of the house, caught between the branches and the siding. I wonder how he navigated through the giant bush outside my window.

“She’s gone for the night,” I whisper. My body doesn’t have the strength for anything else. What am I doing? Can I handle it if we have another issue? Argument? I don’t know. I’m still not sure if I want to find out. Part of me feels pulled into Dad’s vision. If he sees us at his wedding, we must go, right?

But things can be changed. Probably this is when I need to decide what I want and make
that
happen.

“I wish I’d known that before I had to climb through the bushes of death to come see you.” He crawls through my window and rolls off my bed, keeping his feet off my blankets.

“The bushes of death?” I almost laugh again, but I know it’ll come out strange. I’m nervous. He’s here, in my room. Guess we’re talking.

“Have you
gone
out your window?” He looks back to the hole he just crawled through.

“Uh, no. I actually have this preference for doors. They work pretty awesome. They have handles. You can stand upright while you walk through…” I fold my arms in front of me, realizing how exposed I am. In so many ways. What are we? Anything? Something? Nothing?

“Yeah, thanks.” He eyes wander around my room.

It’s like we’re both trying too hard to pretend like everything’s normal, when things between us are definitely not normal.

Just ask, Micah.
“Why are you here?” Why is that question so scary?

“You should hate me forever. I’m sorry.” His eyes don’t leave my face. “It’s killing me to not see you, to not talk to you. That’s never happened to me before.”

All of the words that have passed between us hit and knock around at my insides.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me? You knew and did nothing!

“I don’t hate you, Landon. I
should
have—”

“I can’t imagine what you’ve carried with you. Seeing what you did. I’m so sorry, and now that I think abo
ut what I said to you and what—
”

“But y
ou were right. About all of it.”
That’s what made it all so hard to hear. He told me everything I already knew.
I should have done something.

“No. No I wasn’t right.” He’s shaking his head. “About any of it. I was just shocked, Micah, and angry. It all came out, and it shouldn’t have. Not like that. I hadn’t given myself a chance to be sad over her. Not really. And then you…the way I like you hit me fast, you know? Then when you told me something I felt like you should have said way near the beginning
, and it happened on the same night as our thing for Lacey
. It was just hard.”

“Of course you were right. You were right on everything. It was all things I already knew. I should have told my mom what I do a long time ago. I could have told her. She could have come up with ideas. I don’t know.” It’s so exhausting. It seems like this is something I should be screaming, or crying, but I’m too tired to do that. I was right. Landon was right. I messed up and a girl died. The responsibility is overwhelming.

“I’ve re-played what I’ve said to you over and over in my head. It kills me how I must have made you feel. Micah, I’m so, so sorry.” He reaches out to touch me, but lets his hand drop between us.

He knows how personal it is. Even just something simple like resting his hand on my shoulder. Any amount of touch. Or maybe he’s afraid, worried about what I’ll see from him.

All of my guilt over Lacey comes back, making me weak, even though he’s standing here trying to make me feel better about it. “I should have...” I fall to sitting on my bed. Grief and guilt pouring through me again.

“
No.” He shakes his head, and si
ts on his knees in front of me. “Knowing the small amount I do about what you see? There was nothing there to go on. Shoot, Micah. It could have been something that had
already
happened, or something that wouldn’t have happened for months!” He exhales. “I was just so in shock, and when you’re a guy, you hate feeling that way so you just get pissed. And now I sound like my shrink.” He shakes his head.

I’m silent. Logically, he’s right, but I still feel like I
screwed up
.

“It’s not your fault, Micah.” And as much as I love the Landon that laughs and jokes at everything, I sorta love this one, too. The one who looks through me, into me, and is both forgiving me, and telling me I did nothing wrong.

“You’ve said that to me before.” That it wasn’t my fault, just before
announcing his new hourly wage during his drunken rant on the dock.

“Oh, right.”
He runs his hand over his
hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I…if you hadn’t come down that night. Micah, I let her down, and then I felt like I’d let you down. My oldest brother is getting married to a niece of Donald Trump or something. Dad’s pissed at me because I haven’t even tried to be discreet about stealing his alcohol, and I felt like I...”

He doesn’t need to say the words.

I step toward him and put my arms around him. The ache in my chest is the hurt between us, and also how much I’m starting to love him.
Contentment. Sleepiness. H
is
arms around me. O
ur bodies together on my bed
. I press my face into his chest, and I take a few very careful breaths in, trying not to cry in relief.

“I’ve missed you, so much.” His arms are tight around me, and all I can do is soak this moment up, because I don’t want it to end.

“Me, too.” Worth the risk? I can’t even care or think about that. He feels too good.

“I saw this.” I clutch him tighter. “When you were on the dock.”

“Wait.” He keeps his arms around me, but pulls back enough to see my face. “Micah, did you let me in because you
want
me here, or because you saw me here and think it’ll just happen?”

I squeeze him more tightly, but let my eyes meet his. “I learned something. I can change things, Landon. I mean, I think I can. Maybe not a lot, but I can a little. If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be he
re.” His eyes are too intense—
I have to look down. I’m not sure how much I believe what I just said to him, but I want to believe it and that counts for something.

“Any other visions I should know about?” There’s an edge of tease to his voice, but it’s still soft.

“My dad sees you at his wedding, so, would you like to go to Maine? To my dad’s wedding?” A burst of air comes out of my mouth, a half-laugh? A chuckle? I’m not sure. It feels foreign.

“I’d love to.” He kisses my cheek. “Anything else?”

I suck in a breath and then know I want to tell him everything. “You stay here tonight.”

“Wow. Well, that’s one I want to be tied into.” His lips find mine and he pulls me to the bed. I follow, it’s almost impossible not to. I feel the pull in my hands, my chest, his arms…

In moments, we’re lying on my bed, facing one ano
ther. Our legs rest
together, and I wish that someone could slow time.

“I’ve never tried to forgive anyone before. Did you know that?” he asks. Both our heads rest on my pillow.

“No.” Our fingers lace through each other.

“I want you to know that I’ve thought about you almost constantly. It’s like the simplest thing in the world, right? To know someone’s sorry, and to know that really, they’re more important than the action that hurt you?”

His admission stabs at my chest. I hurt Landon. The sucky thing is that I knew I would. I knew when I passed that first opportunity to tell him, that it would eventually come out, and I’d hurt him. I don’t speak—just wait for him to continue.

“But I didn’t get that. I’ve been holding on to anger against my brothers, my parents, a ton of people.”

“So, your shrink is suddenly worth his money?” I tease.

“Hell, no.” He laughs. “But I love being around you, Micah. I love how grouchy you are about being around people, and I love how much you feel. And that as much as I hate how we fought, I feel closer to you than I ever thought I’d feel to anyone. Because I love you way more than I was mad. I just wasn’t expecting to feel that much for someone I just met. You’re too good to hurt me on purpose.”

I have no words. Not for this. I’m staring at his lips. I lean forward, but he meets me halfway, kissing me softly. He’s so careful with me, so slow.

“I love this…being with you.” His hand runs through my hair.

“Me, too.” And I feel it. I love the way he loves the water, and how he is with me. How he wanted to help Lisa. How broken he was over losing a friend. Landon feels things deeply, and most importantly, he gets me. Is it love right now? I’m not positive, but if it’s not, it will be.

And for the first time ever, I’m grateful for my gift. For the first time I see it as a gift. I would have never attempted talking to him if I hadn’t seen what I saw the first day we touched. What’s happening between us would have never happened. The thought of that isn’t bearable. This moment is worth everything. Worth the risk. My arms wrap tightly around him,
and he
hold
s me close
. We share the warmth, the warmth of him, of me—it all mixes together into something that makes me feel home.

I let myself relax and slowly fall asleep to the sound of his heart, the feel of his warmth against me, and his slow, relaxed breaths.

TWENTY-THREE

Mom’s shuffling in the kitchen. T
he noise of the kitchen door clacking is pretty distinctive. Light’s pouring through my window. Landon’s body is cradled behind me,
and
his arm’s still resting around my waist. He’s so warm I don’t want to move, but the thought of Mom walking in forces me to.

Landon’s still in his clothes from the night before, and I watch him sleep for a moment sort of in disbelief that he’s here.

There aren’t secrets between us now. I’m promising myself that I’ll tell him what I see anytime he asks. He knows about Lacey
,
and he knows what I do. It’s all huge, and it strips away the things that rested between us.

I want to snuggle back in against him, but I’d rather prepare Mom. I tiptoe out, and close the door quietly behind me.

Mom’s reading in the kitchen.

“What time is it?” I whisper.

“Ten thirty.” She looks at me over her book.

“I didn’t expect you home until later on today.” Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to say seeing as there’s a guy in my bed.

She’s still staring.

“What?” I ask.

“Did he stay
the night last night?”  She
nods toward my door.

I can feel the beginnings of what’s probably going to be a ridiculous grin. Of course she’d already know he’s here. She probably checked on me as soon as she walked in the door.

She lets her book rest on the table. “Did you two—”

“No, Mom.
I mean. W
e didn’t...” I walk to the window with hot cheeks, knowing what she’s looking for. I know we have this share things between us, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about Landon and sex.

She stands up and hugs me. Tightly. “I’m proud of you, for not.”

Flash of white, stab of fear, everything’s black. And then Ethan’s face, but just briefly.

“Okay, Mom. Now you’re making it embarrassing.” My words come out okay, but I’m feeling all mixed up and panicky over this weird flash thing I’m still getting from her.

“Sorry, sorry.” She backs away and sits down. “It’s just a big deal, you know?” Her voice has tinges of concern.

It’s a huge deal. She can’t even begin to comprehend what a big deal it is.

“You two haven’t known one another all that long.”

“No.”

She’s right. I know this. I’ve thought the same thing. But the crazy vision from her still spins in my head, making me only half in this conversation. White. Black. Fear. There’s no detail, and it makes no sense.