Redemption (27 page)

Between sets, I find myself leaning back on the old couch, watching Guillaume. He’s talking with Trick on the other side of the room, and hasn’t noticed my stare. The more I examine him, the more I notice his flaws. The way his skin isn’t perfectly smooth or how hard the lines of his jaw etch his face. Yet, the less perfect he seems, the more beautiful he becomes in my eyes.

I remember the way he pressed his lips against mine. I shake my head as if to shake the image right out. I’d known right away not to take his kiss the wrong way, but as the time passes, all the reasons why I did the right thing are fading and I’m left only with a tingle on my lips as they remember his. It would have been nice if I had let him kiss me, if only that one time.

“Aude, is everything okay?” Lucy’s voice brings me out of my thoughts.

This guy’s making me crazy. This is stupid. His presence here, at band practice, is not about us; it’s about protecting me. I’m totally falling for the whole damsel-in-distress syndrome. What would Mom think? She’d have me committed.

Lucy motions for me to follow her in the next room and I make eyes to Guillaume not to follow me. He shakes his head as if to say he’s not stupid.

Trick’s basement is basically made up of two rooms: the band room with the ugly, dirty carpet, old worn-out couch, fridge from the Fifties, and all of our band stuff; and the other room. We are in the other room, the room used for storage. I like to refer to it as where Trick’s family puts all their crap. I stay well away from a mountain of boxes, afraid I may accidentally cause it to tip over and kill us, and I face Lucy.

“Okay, what’s going on between Guillaume and you?”

And we’re going to talk about this again.

“Absolutely nothing, the same as every other time you’ve asked me this.”

“Okay, but the guy is obviously completely in love with you. He drives you to every band practice, and he watches you with stars in his eyes. And you, well I can’t figure out how you feel because you’ve turned into a space cadet.”

“A space cadet? Yeah, didn’t I tell you? I got accepted into a special NASA program for teenage girls.” I roll my eyes at her.

“Ha ha. You know what I think, Aude?”

“What do you think, Lucy? That everyone should be as ready as you are to throw away their shot at something really big just for a boy?”

“Aude, you used to be my best friend, and I’ll ignore that last comment because of that, but ever since Trick and I started dating, you’ve been an absolute bitch.”

“I’m not the one who is setting up Lucid Pill to fail. Can you really think it will be pretty when that happens?”

“You know what? I feel sorry for you. That’s the only reason I won’t hold a grudge for these comments. You have a boy in there that’s crazy about you, and unless I’m wrong, you’re crazy about him too. Yet you’re so jaded that you won’t even give it a chance. It’s bad that you don’t have faith in your two best friends, but it’s pathetic that you have even less faith in yourself.” She storms out of the room.

I lean back against the towers of junk. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I rub my face into my hands and hear Lucy pick up the bass and practice a few riffs with Patrick, who is keeping the beat on the drums. It hits me then. They aren’t the ones tearing the band apart, I am.

I hear footsteps and I look up. Guillaume stands a few feet away from me.

“Are you all right?” His tone is soft and concerned.

It’s too much for me to handle. I slide down to the ground and hug my knees close, hiding my face in them. I’m not going to cry. I don’t cry over boys, though perhaps I can allow myself to cry over best friends. I shake as I try to contain a sob. I fail even at that. Guillaume kneels in front of me. I don’t want his sympathy, except I know I’m lying to myself—it’s exactly what I want right now. He wraps his arms around me.

“It will be okay,” he whispers.

I collapse in his arms and let out a few sobs before I manage to pull myself together. It doesn’t matter that he’s always there for me. I can’t let myself depend on him like this.

And with that, as I was about to pull myself together, I just about fall apart again because I’m acting like my mother. I’ve always felt sorry for Mom, how she can’t allow a man to get close to her, and yet here I am, doing the same thing. Well not
exactly
, because I’m not sleeping with Guillaume and ignoring him the next day. Though I wonder what
that
would be like. He is a creature made of stone, after all.

I pull myself away from him, and now instead of crying, I’m trying to hold in my amusement. I certainly don’t want to have to explain my train of thought to him.

Lucy thinks he’s crazy about me, and with the way he looks at me right now, I see why she’d think that. I’m almost tempted to believe it myself, but I know better. I know about
Marguerite
.

“Are you all right?” He repeats the words that caused me to break down in the first place, but this time I can handle them. I nod while wiping my eyes with my shirtsleeve.

“It was just a small cat fight. I’ll live.” I smile.

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

I shake my head. “I should finish with our set list.”

I have to stop tearing the band apart.

I lead the way back into the band room and hesitate in front of my guitar for a moment before walking up to Lucy.

“I’m so sorry. You’re wrong about Guillaume and me, but right about everything else.”

She looks at me like I’ve grown another head and I laugh. It appears that apologizing is not something I do very often.

42

Aude

“Hi, is this Aude?”

“Um, yes it is. Who is this?”

“It’s Kateri. I met you the other day at my Grandpa’s house. I know I said I’d give you a call a while back but life sort of got busy.”

“I know how that goes.”

“So, you wanted to talk about music?”

“Yup.”

“Do you want to meet up or talk on the phone?”

“Let’s talk on the phone.” I don’t feel especially warm toward her right now and I don’t even know if she’ll be of any help.

“Cool, so you’re in a band?”

I tell her a bit about Lucid Pill and opening for Fetid Crimson.

“Oh, wow. I heard that show was tight. I wanted to go, but Grandpa wouldn’t let me. He gets these weird feelings about certain people he doesn’t want me associating with. Um, like your boyfriend for example. What’s the deal with that?”

“My boyfriend?”

“The hot guy that was with you at Grandpa’s.”

“Guillaume’s not my boyfriend.” He could be …

“Oh, well, I guess that’s for the best since Grandpa’s usually right about his feelings.” She lowers her voice before continuing. “Grandpa believes in the paranormal and sometimes I think he’s right.”

“He is.” I don’t know what possesses me to share this with her, other than the fact that I need so desperately to have another normal human being to talk to about all of this.

“You and your … uhh, I mean, Guillaume, went to visit him on mystical business, then?”

“I guess so.”

“You have to tell me more.”

“My Mohawk ancestors talk and beat drums in my head?”

“No way! But you’re
métis
. I don’t mean it like Stan did, it’s just that I’d have thought … I’m sorry that sounds bad. It’s so cool that you hear these voices.”

“I’m also a witch from the other side of my family.” I’m going for broke and telling all of my secrets now.

She goes silent for what must be a whole minute.

“You’re a witch … and Grandpa referred to Guillaume as an old stone one … ” she says. “Is he a gargoyle?”

It’s my turn to be silent. I don’t feel like it’s my secret to spill, but I’m not spilling anything—she obviously knows. I make a small agreeing noise that sounds more like a choke.

“I thought he’d have to be if he’s your familiar,” she says.

“My familiar?”

“Do you prefer me referring to him as your bodyguard? My people refer to the relationship between witches and gargoyles as a familiar type of thing, sorry if I offended.”

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. I tell you I’m a witch and you treat it like I simply told you I’m from another country.”

She laughs.

“Well, Grandpa tells me so many stories, and I always knew them to be true.”

“I wish I could accept all of this as calmly as you.”

“So this is news to you? Something you’ve learned recently?”

“Yup.”

“Would you rather we not talk about it?”

“No, I like having someone to talk about it. Someone who isn’t centuries old and a creature made of stone, you know?”

“Want to meet up for coffee after school next week? We could talk music too.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We end the conversation and, as I hang up the phone, all the lights go off in my room.

It has to be a power outage. I sit in the dark for a few minutes before opening my curtains to take a look outside. Rain is pouring down and everything is covered with a thick layer of ice. The wind blows heavily enough that the icy branches reluctantly sway, creaking like a geriatric couple dancing a slow dance.

Mom knocks at my door and I unlock it for her. She’s carrying an armload of heavy blankets and an unlit candle. The hallway behind her is dark.

“There’s a horrible ice storm out there and lots of the city has blackouts. The guy on the radio said that the power company is expecting for it to last most of the night. It’s going to be a cold one.”

I take the blankets from her and wish we were still at our last apartment—the one with the wood-burning fireplace.

I’ve been lying in bed for hours and I can’t fall asleep. I also can’t warm up. The last time we had a blackout like this, I was eight years old and I crawled into bed with Mom. I’m not eight years old anymore, so instead of crawling into bed with Mom, I wrap a couple blankets around my shoulders and go to my window to check out the storm.

The wind still howls a haunting, whistling song that would have freaked me out before I knew how much scarier the world can be. Tree branches thump against my window and the rain has turned into snow, swirling around. I can’t see more than two feet in front of me.

I could swear I see movement below and I suddenly wonder about the Terra Cotta man. Is he out there? I open my window and I’m hit by a blast of frozen air. This doesn’t help me with my lack of warmth.

Maybe Guillaume is out there watching me. I know they are bound to protect me, but I don’t know exactly what that entails.

“Guillaume?” I call out of my window. “Guil, are you out there?”

There’s no answer and I’m seriously cold now. I start closing the window but stop when I hear a strange crumbling noise. This noise is followed by some more movements, barely noticeable in the storm.

“Guillaume? Is that you?” I try again.

But there is still no answer. I close my window and grab my cell phone to dial Guillaume’s apartment. He answers on the first ring.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“There’s something moving outside of my window.” I realize how stupid I sound. It could be anything; a cat, a raccoon, a homeless person seeking shelter from the storm.

“What is it? Do you need me to come by?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s nothing. I’m just freaked out. But I feel better hearing your voice. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“Want me to come check it out so you can feel better?”

“No.” I laugh. “No, I feel kind of silly. Everything is fine. I should try to get some sleep.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything.”

I hang up. The crumbling sound from earlier is muffled by the closed window, but seems to be getting closer. I lean my forehead against the glass trying to get a look below, and feel vibrations. I can’t shake the feeling that something is coming.

I hit redial. Garnier answers.

“Tell Guillaume I changed my mind. I need him here.”

“He’s already on his way.”

“What if he doesn’t get here fast enough?” I ask.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, but I think something is coming.”

“Use your essence.”

“To do what? What can I do?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe you could drain him like Marguerite did to us. Do you think you can do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Then leave. Run.”

I don’t hang up with Garnier. Still on the phone, I quietly exit my room.

“Will my mom be okay?” I ask him.

“If you leave, he will follow you. She will be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Yeah. I’m worried about me too.”

I grab my winter coat and wrap my scarf around my head. I can’t believe I’m leaving the relatively warm shelter of my house to try my chances with the storm, but Garnier must be right. I shouldn’t just stay here and wait for the Terra Cotta man to get me.