Riley Bloom 1 - Radiance (3 page)

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Authors: Alyson Noël

BOOK: Riley Bloom 1 - Radiance
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I rolled my eyes, sincerely doubting that. Besides, no way was I following him. He was too weird, too dorky, and too obviously offended by the fact that I’d called him that. Standing my ground, I watched as he headed for this huge, all-glass pavilion. Taking the steep set of stairs in a handful of steps, just assuming I’d follow, which, eventually, left with no better options, I’m ashamed to admit, but I did.

“Hey—um—” I squinted at the back of his head, having no idea what to call him, but pretty sure that dorky guy was off-limits from this point on. “What is this place?” I asked, dreading the embarrassment of showing up late for my very first class where I’d instantly be pegged as the clueless new girl for the rest of the year. “Seriously, where are you taking me?” I called, staring at his retreating back, seeing how he was pretty tall for his age, which I figured to be somewhere around fourteen even though he dressed more like somebody’s dad.

Following him around a corner and stopping just short of bumping right into him when he paused before a large, smoked-glass door, opened it wide, and said, “They’re all inside. Waiting for you.”

I glanced between him and the door, seeing him nod encouragingly as I poked my head in and peered around at a big empty room where absolutely no one was waiting for me or anyone else for that matter. My eyes adjusting to the light as I took in the large, raised stage partially hidden by heavy, red velvet drapes, and the rows of soft, cushy chairs that faced it. And even though the room seemed perfectly nice, and not at all threatening in any way, shape, or form, I couldn’t help but notice the awful feeling invading my middle, urging me to get the heck out of there, before it was too late.

And just as I turned to ask if this was some kind of hoax, some kind of lame pick-on-the-new-girl hazing ritual, he pressed his hand between my shoulder blades and shoved me inside.

Saying, “Good luck—you’re gonna need it!” as the door slammed shut behind me.

6

I reached for the handle, eager to get the heck out so I could track him down and really let him have it. And I’d almost succeeded, when someone called out from behind me and I turned, scowl planted firmly in place, dreading even a moment’s delay, only to find myself face-to-face with what I assumed to be an angel.

An incredibly beautiful, glittering angel.

The first one I’d seen since I’d arrived Here.

“Riley?” She looked at me with eyes so kind, I immediately eased the frown from my face. “You are Riley Bloom, right?”

I nodded. It was all I could do. I was so awed, so struck by her appearance, the way her long curly hair shimmered and shone, transforming from yellow to brown to black to red before starting the sequence all over again, while her skin did the same, converting from the palest white to the darkest ebony and everything else in between. And her gown, her beautiful, blue, sparkly gown, swished all around, gleaming in a way that made it look like it was woven from generous piles of stardust and long yards of lace. The only thing missing were wings, or if she had them, they weren’t quite visible to me.

She smiled, beckoning for me to come closer, and I instantly followed without thinking twice. Because the truth is, she was so mesmerizing, so stunning, I just couldn’t refuse. Radiating a light so brilliant, so vibrant, so deep, so—purpley—it made cheerleader girl and dorky guy seem like burned-out bulbs in comparison. And though I was sure I’d never met her before, she somehow seemed strangely familiar. And the moment she smiled, her kind eyes studying mine, I knew why—she was like every fairy-tale princess come to life.

“We’re so very glad to see you,” she said, hands folded before her.

We?

I blinked, once, twice, amazed to see the seats that had sat empty just a moment ago were now occupied by a small group of robe-clad people. But even though they glowed too, not one of them shined nearly as brightly as the beautiful angel before me.

“I’m Aurora,” she said, and to be honest, I wasn’t the least bit surprised. If anyone could pull off a name like that, it was her. “And this here is Claude.” She motioned toward a guy with a long, dark ponytail that pretty much matched the long, scraggly beard that hung almost to his waist. “And Royce.” She nodded toward the guy next to Claude who, with his wavy brown hair, dark skin, and glinting green eyes, was definitely hot enough to be a major movie star back home on the earth plane. Samson was the guy sitting to his right, and honestly, he looked so old, he almost looked young again, like he’d come full circle or something, even though I know that doesn’t really make any sense. And next to Samson was Celia, who was so petite, she seemed almost like a person in miniature, and her creamy silk robe was covered in the most beautiful embroidery of bright blossoming flowers and long, spindly vines.

But despite how kind, welcoming, and completely non-threatening they all seemed, despite how they glowed in varying shades ranging from Celia’s cornflower blue to Aurora’s vibrant purple, I still couldn’t ditch this increasingly uncomfortable feeling that lived inside me, though it’s not like I could place it either. Nor could I come up with one good reason for having it in the first place. All I knew, as I stood there before them, was that something was up.

Something big.

And even though now, looking back, it all seems pretty obvious, at the time, I didn’t have even the slightest clue of what I was in for.

From everything I’d seen up to that point, it didn’t even occur to me that that kind of thing could actually be true.

“We’re members of the Council,” Aurora said, as though that somehow made sense, smiling as she took her seat among them. “Do you know what that is?”

I shook my head and bit down hard on my lip, unable to speak, unable to even think for that matter. Pretty much unable to do anything more than stand there and gape. My eyes darting around as I took in the room once again, gut practically going into spasms when I suddenly realized what the stage was for.

Why it just sat there all empty.

What this was really about.

“No worries,” said the hot one, who I thought was named Royce but I was too freaked to be sure.

“Nothing to worry about. You’re perfectly safe. None of us bite,” said Samson, which, for some strange reason elicited a big laugh from everyone present.

Well, everyone except me.

I was about as far from laughing as a person could get. Because the truth is, I was too busy looking for a way out. Completely overcome by this horrible, sinking feeling, now that I had a pretty good idea of what my immediate future would bring.

And yet, that hard slab of fear in my gut was really no match for the rising wave of annoyance. The overwhelming feeling that I’d been Punk’d.

Sucker punched.

Set up in the most unfair way.

Remembering how just a little while earlier, my parents had simply hugged me good-bye as they sang “have a nice day!” as though everything were perfectly normal.

As though I wasn’t about to be faced, ambushed really, with this.

No warning. No heads-up of any kind. Just tossed into a den of lions, with no ammo, no defenses, no tips on how to survive.

My gaze moved over them as I sighed and shook my head.

This was it.

Judgment day.

It was me against them and there was nothing I could do about it.

Not the least bit surprised when I suddenly found myself standing center stage even though I’d arrived there through no will of my own.

Watching in complete and total horror as they all leaned forward in their seats, eagerly waiting for the show to begin, as the drapes slid open behind me.

7

Claude, the bearded guy, got up from his seat, went over to the ginormous bookcase that lined the far wall that I somehow missed in my initial nervousness, and withdrew a small, slim book he casually flipped through. Proceeding to make a series of clicking sounds as his tongue hit the inside of his cheek, only to finally slam the book shut, place it back on the shelf, and return to his seat.

“Well, it seems someone’s lived a very interesting life,” he said, arranging his robe over his crossed legs as he looked at me. “Why don’t you tell us a bit about that?”

I gaped, the eye-bugging, jaw-dropping kind of gape. Shooting him my best you’re crazy look, sure that he had to be joking, even though the glint in his eyes assured me he was anything but.

They were waiting. All of them patiently waiting. Eager to hear the extremely short story of my over-before-I-knew-it twelve years of life.

And the truth is, the longer they sat there, waiting for me to begin, the more annoyed I became, until the anger bubbled up so high inside me it boiled right over and spilled out when I said, “Are you kidding me?” I paused, waiting for someone to cop to it, to let me in on the joke, but when nobody did, I shook my head and continued. “How interesting could the story possibly be when I didn’t even make it to thirteen?” I pressed my lips together to keep them from quivering in an embarrassing, visible way. Crossing my arms tightly across a chest that, now, thanks to the fact that I was sent Here, would stay stubbornly flat for, well, for eternity as far as I could tell. And when my eyes started to sting, and my throat went all hot and tight, it just made it all seem that much worse. I mean, the one thing—the only thing I ever really wanted was to be a teenager—and these people had yanked it right out from under me.

“So, is it accurate to say that you feel—shortchanged?” Royce asked, head cocked to the side, eyes all squinty. Studying me like he was the scientist and I his most interesting rat.

“Is that why you lingered so long on the earth plane?” asked Celia, in a polite, demure way, though I wasn’t fooled for an instant. Not with the way her eyes roamed over me, not missing a thing.

And having them all staring at me like that, well, it just made it worse.

Made me feel like I was some kind of sideshow.

Some kind of freak.

Even though they were all striving to appear calm and thoughtful and friendly, as though they had all the time in the world for me to get my bearings and give them the big reveal of how I spent my twelve, pathetically short, years, I wasn’t fooled for a second.

These people knew everything. It was all in the book. They just wanted to hear it from me. They wanted me to own up to it.

An afterlife test.

That’s what this was.

There was no doubt in my mind.

“It’s true that we know everything,” Aurora confided, confirming what I’d already guessed. “But you have nothing to worry about, there’s no judgment here. We just want to give you a chance to explain it, that’s all. To tell us what motivated you to make the choices you did. We’re interested in your input, to hear your side of things, so we can best decide where to place you.”

I squinted, my gaze moving over them, all of them, but they were too good at this, too well practiced, and I couldn’t glean even the slightest clue to what she might’ve meant by that.

“Everyone has a place,” Celia said, her tiny hands smoothing the sleeves of her gown. “It is our task to find yours,” she added, as though that should somehow mean something, as though that should make perfect sense to a newbie like me.

I shook my head, feeling completely annoyed, upset, and, well, mostly annoyed, saying, “Listen, I’m not really all that into this, so I’m wondering if we could maybe, um, catch up another time or something. I mean, since you already know all there is to know, I don’t really see the point of all this. And, the truth is, I feel a little creeped out having to stand here on this stage. But fine, if you insist on knowing, then, okay, I guess the top two items on my short list of sins would probably be: One, sometimes, on certain occasions, I used to hog the mic when I played Rock Band on the Wii with my friends—” I stopped, hearing my own voice in my head saying, Really? You’re seriously going to lie about that? Here, of all places? And clearing my throat when I added, “Um, okay, I might’ve actually hogged it more than sometimes, but that’s only because I was practicing to go on American Idol, which, you probably don’t know, but it’s this really popular show on—” I shook my head, knowing I needed to keep it moving if I wanted to get out of there anytime soon.

“So, anyway, what else? Okay, well, I guess number two would be that one time, back in fourth grade, when we had that substitute teacher and someone, er, I mean I, changed the seating chart all around, so that all the girls had boy’s names and all the boys had girl’s names—but, again, I’d like to make it clear that there were extenuating circumstances in that case too. For starters, it wasn’t entirely my idea. In fact, it wasn’t my idea at all. But anyway, the only reason I even agreed to go along with it is because Felicia Hawkins dared me. And just in case you’re unfamiliar with her, well, she is majorly mean. Seriously, she was one of the meanest, nastiest, snobbiest kids in the school, and, by the way, that includes all of the fifth and sixth graders too. So, with that in mind, I think it’s fair to say that I really had no choice but to prove that I wasn’t the least bit afraid of her, the substitute, or anyone else. Otherwise she would’ve been all over me for the rest of the year, if not longer. So, if anyone should be punished Here, it’s Felicia Hawkins, not me. But nooo, she’s still living, still breathing, and last I saw, still terrorizing her classmates, with no consequences whatsoever, while I’m the one who gets stuck Here, standing on some dumb stage, in some dumb room, defending a few dumb acts. I mean, seriously, how unfair is that?”

I stared at them, all flushed and red faced, but even though the question wasn’t nearly as rhetorical as it may have seemed, not one of them answered. They just all leaned forward, practically in unison, like they’d rehearsed it or something, completely ignoring my overly emotional outburst that left me more than a little embarrassed, as their eyes focused on the screen just behind me. A screen that suddenly flickered to life, showing a stream of images of—

Well—

Me.

Me, at home in Eugene, Oregon, not even a year old and crawling after my big sister Ever who was just four years older and from what I could see, already mourning the loss of her privacy.

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