Redemption (8 page)

Read Redemption Online

Authors: Veronique Launier

Tags: #teen, #teen fiction, #YA, #YA fiction, #Young Adult, #Young Adult Fiction, #redemption, #Fantasy, #Romance, #gargoyle, #Montreal, #Canada, #resurrection, #prophecy, #hearts of stone

BOOK: Redemption
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“No, that isn’t it … ” I realize I need to tell Lucy about the attacks. I need to let someone in. She needs to understand my potential mental illness. But this is hardly the time.

I sigh, move my hair so it covers more of my face. I rest a boot on the edge of the coffee table, and cross my arms in front of me.

Guillaume leans in so his arms are resting on his legs. “Why were you attacked today, Aude?”

“What?” Lucy jumps up and looks at me. “What happened? What do you mean attacked? Are you okay? What is your mom saying about it? Oh my God, seriously are you okay?”

Well, I did want to tell her about it, but that isn’t exactly how I planned to handle it. “I’m fine Lucy. I mean I’m weirded out and … ” I look at the brothers who are now staring intently at me. “Well, I guess we can talk about it later?”

She looks from them to me a few times, as if trying to judge whether she should force me to blab in front of them or not. “But you’re okay?”

“Yes, Guillaume kind of saved me.”

She smiles so wide I want to remind her that my attack isn’t a cause to rejoice about. “Tell me what happened.”

“Not much. I was at the music store, I was about to be late for work, so I left, and someone grabbed me around the neck and pulled me into an alley.”

“How come is this the first I hear about it?”

“You’re the one not answering your texts.”

“You just asked me if I was working, that didn’t sound urgent or important. You should have told me.”

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What’s not a big deal?” Trick said as he walked in on the conversation.

“Nothing. What are you even doing here?”

“Lucy’s shift is finished. I’m picking her up.”

“Right. Just great.” More people to get in my business.

Really, I should have expected him. Where Lucy is, Trick is never too far away. I reluctantly introduce him to Guillaume and Garnier, hoping this would change the subject. It doesn’t work.

“What happened?”

“Just … you know, weird stuff.” I might as well lay all the cards on the table. I lower my eyes and my voice before continuing, “sorta was attacked twice in the past two days … ”

I don’t know if I’m embarrassed about not telling them about it earlier, or if it’s that admitting to being attacked makes me such a victim.

“Twice?” Lucy chimes in.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

I take a deep breath, holding it in, willing myself to calm down.

“Seriously, dudes, this weekend was messed.”

I tell them the nonmental stuff. I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. I don’t want them to realize how much it freaked me out or how much I’m still freaking out. For one thing, it’s not cool. And I don’t need for my best friends to be in full freak-out mode like my mother.

When I tell them how Guillaume scared him off, Trick pats him on the shoulder in that boy way. “Thanks man, we owe you one.”

I can’t help but wonder what the brothers are making out of this whole scene. I probably won’t see them again after this. It should be a good thing, but I’d be disappointed.

“Odd, that’s a big deal,” Lucy says. “You have to tell someone.”

“I just told you guys.”

“You know what I mean, the cops, your mom, someone.”

I study her face and what I see irritates me. She’s biting her lip and her face looks pale. She’s not seriously going to get all worried on me now, is she?

She and Trick are only a year older than I am. They treat me like equals. I wouldn’t be friends with them if they didn’t. I’m not into being coddled. Right now, though, the age difference could not be any more obvious, and it pisses me off.

“Nothing happened! I can take care of myself.”

Patrick opens his mouth to say something but Lucy, more intuitive than he is, stops him by placing her hand on his arm. She changes the subject.

So we talk about music, about the band and other things. It turns out that Guillaume plays the piano and can keep up with our conversation quite well. Garnier doesn’t seem to have as much to add, but he listens intently and makes intelligent comments.

I end up staying much later than I anticipated and Trick decides to drive me home. I hate that it’s because he’s worried about my safety. Or, maybe if I’m honest with myself, I appreciate it. Because I’m really freaked out, especially since I’ve just come to realize I can’t continue to ignore it. I need to find out what’s happening to me.

10

Guillaume

Garnier and I returned to the apartment. When I told Antoine about the piano, Garnier looked at me in surprise but didn’t say anything. He simply walked away. Antoine informed us that the negotiations for the purchase of this apartment were going well. He was certain that everything would be in order by the time the piano was to be delivered next week. I had never even considered that they may not have been.

I knew where to find Garnier. I also knew I had to talk to him. For centuries, we had been closer than brothers. He was the only one I could tell anything to. Now, we danced around each other, trying to regain our footing. Sometimes, I hated Marguerite for doing this to us. Most times, I hated myself.

I climbed up to the roof, made my way to where he sat, and dropped down next to him. I knew he would have taken notice of my presence at least from the time I had reached the roof, but he didn’t move or show any sign of it.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and finally, not sure what else to do, I lit a cigarette. I wanted to talk about her, Marguerite, but I didn’t know how to bring her up. Instead, I talked about the other girl.

“She’s going to school tomorrow; I couldn’t learn where. I’ll have to follow her again.”

He shrugged, and I regretted that he wasn’t as invested in this as I was. We worked so well together.

“I remember the last time I thought I could live a normal life … ” he said.

I inhaled sharply. I thought I wanted to talk about her, but was no longer so certain.

“Why do it then?” I appealed to him. “Why put yourself through the pain again?”

“It doesn’t have to be the same as it was. I can be completely normal without … well … ” He patted the left side of his chest. “Without putting too much on the line.”

I sighed.

“You heard I bought a piano today … ”

“Hmm … ” There was no surprise in his voice and he didn’t look at me.

I took a deep breath. I wanted to talk about it. No, I needed to talk about it.

“While at the store, I played it … ” He looked at me then, and I continued. “I played my composition … on the piano with people around … people watching.”

He made eye contact with me then and I could see conflict rising in him.

“She always spoke of it, you know.”

I nodded.

“It pained me to think about it. Not only the way you could open yourself up to her in a way I never could, but also that you couldn’t open yourself up to me in the same way. Even after six centuries together, you couldn’t share that part of yourself with us.”

“I … I never knew this bothered you … not the last part.”

“In the end, all we ever have is each other.”

I nodded, and made the resolution that I would play it for my family. After having played it for strangers, I owed it to them.

11

Aude

After dinner, I head to Trick’s for band practice. After our conversation at the coffee shop, I’m not exactly sure I want to face them, but this is important. The band is my future. It’s my salvation. Actually, we skipped the last band practice, and maybe this is why I’m losing it.

We hang out at Trick’s because he’s the only one with a basement. He has a garage too, but his dad has claimed it as his domain. I guess this makes us more of a basement band than a garage band but I can’t complain. It’s somewhere to jam.

Once Trick’s dad opens the door, I walk straight downstairs. They’re actually playing with their instruments—instead of each other—for once. Lucy nods to me and plays a riff she’s been working on. It sounds amazing.

The set list I emailed them is posted on the wall. I’m pumped to get started. Trick and Lucy nod their heads, and without another word start playing “Lana’s Lullaby,” I pick up my guitar that’s right where I left it late last week. I join in. Energy pounds through me, in sync with Patrick’s drums, and I let it overtake me. I dance around and sing the refrain:

She’s always lived her life without an alibi
Now we are the ones singing Lana’s Lullaby
Will our hearts close when we refuse to cry
Still singing Lana’s Lullaby

A couple songs later, we take a break. Patrick grabs a couple of beers out of the old Fifties-style fridge for Lucy and himself. Trick’s dad keeps it well-stocked and doesn’t seem to notice the way it disappears. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t care. Trick knows better than to offer me one; drinking is so overrated. He also knows better than to drink too much during band practice—I’ve walked off before.

I grab a Coke and plop down on the comfortable but nasty-looking garage-sale couch, where I lay back and close my eyes.

“So are you satisfied that we aren’t neglecting Lucid Pill? We practiced all afternoon yesterday so you wouldn’t be pissed off with us this time.”

“I wasn’t pissed off last time, but I kind of am right now,” I protest.

Lucy scrunches up her face at me.

“Why didn’t you call me to practice with you? Lucid Pill is about the three of us.”

“Trick and I were going to hang out, you know. Then we decided to jam. It’s not like we purposely excluded you.”

“What’s happening to us?”

“Nothing. We’re still friends. We’re still a band. You need to stop worrying about it. Instead, well, tell me you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Right, well, you could have fooled me.” Lucy’s tone is mocking, so I stick out my tongue at them like a five-year-old. We all laugh.

“Seriously, Aude, there was something more, wasn’t there? Something you didn’t want to talk about in the coffee shop?” This nurturing Lucy is a new side of her that’s been coming out little by little the past few months. I don’t like it. It’s not the Lucy I know.

“I don’t know exactly. I heard stuff, and I’m seeing things, and I’m scared I’m going mental.”

“Oh Aude!” She lets out a laugh. “You’ve been mental for a long time, has nobody told you this?” We laugh again and it reminds me of the laugh I had at Rochelle’s expense at work today and I tell them about how Guillaume completely humiliated her by ignoring her advances. Of course, Lucy reads way too much into it.

“He’s crushing on you so bad.” She draws out the word
bad
with her teasing tone.

I fight a smile. I don’t know if she is right, but either way, I shouldn’t care. I have more important concerns.

After our break is over, we go back to the set list, practicing a few new songs with which we still have problems. Trick insists on driving me home again while Lucy stays at his house, hanging out with his parents. She spends more time there than at her own house.

During the ride home, Trick and I talk about band stuff and school stuff. You know, the normal non-awkward stuff people like to talk about. But he screws it up, and decides to bring up stuff that neither of us really wants to talk about.

“Lucy and I … I mean, it doesn’t make you feel weird or anything? I mean because of
us
?”

“Um, Trick, I didn’t know you to be the delusional type. You realize there’s never been an
us
, right?”

“You know what I mean.” One of his hands is still on the steering wheel while he’s scratching the back of his neck with the other.

“No, I’m not sure I do. I also don’t think I
want
to know what you mean.”

“There’s just this strange tension between you and Lucy these days … ”

“Well, I guess it does have to do with you and her … but not because of us. I just hate how it doesn’t feel like it’s the three of us together now, but you and her together, and poor little Aude, the tag-along. I worry about what it will do to Lucid Pill.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you overthink things, Odd?”

12

Guillaume

The sky was still dark when I reached her home on Monday morning. I buttoned my wool jacket and wished for some gloves. My breath made plumes of vapor in the frigid morning. All around me the city began to wake up.

Her front door opened and I watched her walk down the stairs. She was better dressed for the weather than I was. A scarf wrapped her neck and knit gloves kept her hands warm. I considered saying hello, but then realized she would think I was following her—which was exactly what I was doing—but it struck me that she wouldn’t appreciate it if she knew. I trailed her on to the subway, and sat a few seats away from her. From there I could easily watch her.

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