Ripple (23 page)

Cole.

Nooo.
An animal scream wrenches from my throat
.
Not Cole. Anyone but Cole.

Oh God, no. How did it come to this? I did everything in my power to keep him away from the lake, away from me. I can’t have killed him. I can’t go through the pain of killing someone again.

Cole’s once beautiful hazel eyes are glassy and lifeless, staring upward. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead and temples. His skin is ashy, clammy. He’s not breathing.

I pound on his chest without even thinking. Pinching his nose, I force air into his lungs. It’s exactly like those desperate moments with Steven, when I tried to bring him back, before I realized that the life had already left his once strong body.

This can’t happen. Not again. I won’t let it. I can’t do this, not to Cole, not to the only person who’s tried to get to know me, the real me, in the last two years.

Though I’m breathless myself, I don’t stop. I push against his chest several more times. Just as I lean over to force more air into his lungs, water slides between his lips. And suddenly, he’s coughing.

I jump up and step back, watching as he rolls onto his side, hacking hard, coughing up water. He’s curled over in a fetal position, gasping for breath.

Before I understand what I’m doing, I’m backing up, sliding my clothes off the branch behind me and retreating into the shadows. He pulls his knees underneath him and kneels, still coughing, one hand gripping his stomach, the other sinking into the rocky, muddy shore.

Once the coughing slows, and I know he’s going to be okay, I slip further into the shadows. I disappear, my bare feet picking up a sprint. I dodge tree limbs and roots and rocks, bursting into a frantic run, wishing I could leave the truth behind as easily as I leave Cole hacking up lake water.

The gravel bites into my bare feet, punishing me for my mistakes.

I almost killed.

Sickening dread swirls in my stomach, nearly making me vomit as I reach my car.

I almost killed.

I yank the door open and fall into the seat. Then I curl up into a ball and close my eyes, rocking back and forth.

I almost killed.

I
stay home sick from school the next day. And in a way, it’s true: I am sick. Sick of the curse. Sick of my life.

I can’t face Cole right now. Not when I know what nearly happened. What I nearly did.

I stay in bed all day as my grandmother’s television blares in the living room. The bowl of soup she gave me sits, cold, on the nightstand next to my bed.

I grip the toy Chevelle in my hand, my thumb sliding over the wheels. Cole nearly joined Steven, six feet under. Because I was too afraid to tell him what I was.

I am supposed to be empty of all feelings, empty of all life. That’s what sirens are in the myths. Killing machines, bent on revenge. But if that’s true, why does the pain in my chest overwhelm me? And why is it that what I want most can’t be met by the siren’s call?

Even Erik wasn’t enough. He was drawn to me just because I was a siren. And that makes him like all the others, even if he knew what he was doing. He wanted me to fix him, and he wanted the life I could give him, but he never really wanted me.

But Cole is different.

And that’s why I’m afraid to see him right now. As long as I don’t face him, as long as I don’t do what I have to do, I can still have the possibility of him. The daydream that he doesn’t sneer and walk away.

But now I know I can’t keep living like this.

I have to tell him.

Tears brim, and I let them slide down my temple, unbidden.

Nothing. That’s what the women in my family get in the end. The guys always leave us far behind when they find out the truth. I don’t know that I can survive that.

I let the tears swallow me whole as I mourn everything I know I’m going to lose once Cole knows.

But then it hits me: Maybe he already does. Maybe he saw me before he drowned, before he mindlessly walked into the lake.

The dreams and hopes that had swelled and grown in the last few weeks shrivel up and die, drowning in my tears.

I turn on my side and hug a pillow against me and let the sobs rack my body, crying so hard it becomes difficult to breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish I could rewind the last month, find the strength to tell him what I should have to begin with.

 

The next morning, I stand outside the school’s main doors. I didn’t swim last night, which is enough to put me in a foul mood. I nearly went to my lake, but I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Erik were there. If I’d let him hug me, try to take away the pain.

I’m weak. Too weak. And so I stayed away. And now I have a day of classes to get through, and it’s only eight o’clock. I don’t know how I’m going to manage. All I know is that tonight, after all of this is over, I have to go see Cole.

I take in a slow breath and push the heavy entry door open, step into the bustling hallway. Students stream past me, jostling to get to class. They don’t even notice the change in my eyes as they pass me, don’t see that I’m struggling to stay on my feet. I grit my teeth against the pain. It feels as if the carpeted halls are really a gauntlet of broken glass and sharp tin cans splitting the soles of my feet open.

Out of nowhere, a hand clamps onto my wrist. Cold, hard, unwelcome.

I spin around, steeling myself.

But it’s not Cole. It’s Erik. He gives me the strangest look. His eyes are sort of glossed over, a flash of resentment in them. “You were supposed to come over this morning.”

I reach over with my free hand and wrench loose his grip on my arm. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve had some things to deal with.” I take in his strangely haughty look. I almost don’t recognize him right now. “Look, I’ll talk to you about this later. Soon, okay? Just not right now. I have too much going on.”

That same look flares again, and something inside me shrinks back. I feel a little guilty, but I need to just get through today, make sure Cole is alive and breathing.

I’m still standing close to Erik, so close it wouldn’t take a single step for me to kiss him, when Cole’s hazel eyes come into focus. The second they meet mine, he tears his gaze away and stalks down the hall. Everything inside me hollows out.

A shrill bell rings, and my headache becomes splitting.

 

That evening, as the sun leaves orange streaks across the skyline, I stand on the beach outside Cole’s house, my bones and limbs still aching. I watch the shadows in his room move behind the curtains. Thirty minutes more, and I’ll have to go. The glow of the sunset seems extreme, illuminating the massive storm clouds building behind me.

The moon should be popping up by now, but the giant bank of clouds blocks it out. I need to swim soon, but I can’t bring myself to leave.

An autumn storm rolls in, and lightning strikes over the ocean, illuminating the sky. Wind whips through my hair, and it streams out behind me, wild and unruly, a moving mass of waves. The cold bites through my blue sweater, but still I stand, and still I stare.

The door to Cole’s room swings open. I consider moving, hiding, but I don’t. I watch him step onto the small deck attached to his room, staying close to the house where the overhang will protect him from the sudden onslaught of raindrops that fall all around me.

One . . . Two . . .

Lightning streaks across the blackened sky, and for one bright moment, I know Cole can see me.

He reaches back and flips the porch light off, engulfing him in shadows as he steps forward into the downpour. His gray T-shirt darkens instantly.

My sweater is soaked through as well, and even my sneakers are wet enough that I can feel the rain on my toes. It’s the sort of rain that soaks you through in seconds, turns your hair to dripping, tangled ropes. I should move. Run. Hide. But I stay rooted as he steps off the deck and into the dunes, as the wind continues to howl.

He climbs over the small sandy hills and crosses the short expanse of reed grass. Before I can react, he’s standing right there in front of me, rain dripping from his hair. His T-shirt clings to the muscles on his shoulders and chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” He has to shout to be heard.

But he’s talking to me. Hope soars in my chest, only to fall at the look in his eyes.

I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t want this. I nearly killed him, and yet here I am anyway, as if once I tell him what I am—once he realizes it was me at the lake—he’s going to give me another chance. It’s impossible, but still I have to know.

I just can’t stop myself from wanting to be with him. Maybe it’s fate, that he found my lake, went back again. I don’t know why he was there, but all that’s important is that he was.

He’s the only thing that’s ever mattered. He’s the only person I’ve wanted to be close to ever since I knew the truth about myself.

It’s him or no one.

Lightning streaks again, but neither of us flinch. The lightning and thunder seem to be right on top of each other now, and yet we don’t move, don’t break our piercing stares.

“Just answer me one thing!” he yells. The storm nearly swallows his words, ripping them away on the gust of wind. He steps closer and a bead of rainwater slides down the bridge of his nose, drips off. He’s standing so close it lands on the toe of my shoe.

“Did you ever really care about me? At all?”

My lip betrays me by trembling. I resist the urge to step back, retreat. Instead I nod as tears mix with the rain sliding down my cheeks. It’s hard to breathe. I just sniffle.

The anger in his eyes melts, and he reaches out, as if to wipe away the tears. But at the last second, he seems to realize it’s futile. He cups my cheek instead.

“Then why, Lexi? Why are you with him?”

I open my mouth to say something, anything to keep him here with me, but a booming thunderclap rumbles, followed almost instantly by lightning.

I make a decision right then and there. One that will finally tell me if this will ever truly work. I grab him by the T-shirt and pull him closer, shouting into his ear, “I can’t explain. But I can show you. Grab your iPod.”

 

We sit in my car near the lake, shivering. He from the cold, and me . . . from fear.

My mother played this game once. And it didn’t go well. She showed my dad who she was, and he only ran. It hurts now when I think of it. I never connected with her, never understood her, couldn’t see why she made the choices she did.

But I get it now. Because the same blind hope surges through me. My head and my heart don’t agree. And I’m following my heart. I’m playing with fire, and I know if this all blows up, it’s going to be as bad for me as it was for her. But I can’t have Cole unless I tell him my secrets.

Lying nearly got him killed. It got my mother’s boyfriend killed. Lying is a dangerous game.

Maybe I won’t be able to have him even when he knows the truth about me either. But I have to try. I can’t live like this anymore, not without giving it a shot.

He’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.

“Are you ready?” I say, nearly in a whisper. The rain has quieted, leaves only tiny streaks on the windows. Cole is wearing a jacket now, but I haven’t bothered to change out of my damp sweater and jeans. My toes are wet inside my sneakers, chafing around the edges.

He peers at me in the darkness. “I don’t understand why we’re here.”

“You will. Come on.” I push my door open, and it lets out its usual squeak, only now it sounds like a death knell. It’s not too late to change my mind, pretend I brought him here just to see a lake that looks like a dozen others around here. But that won’t solve anything. That won’t give me Cole.

The rain is little more than a light mist now, and the patchy clouds allow us to see where we’re going by the light of the moon. Funny, how quickly storms pass this close to the ocean.

Cole trips on a root and knocks into me. He’s not used to these paths, can’t navigate his way in the darkness as well as I can. He must have brought a flashlight last night. When he trips again, I take his hand, savor the feeling of it in mine as I lead him by memory. The canopy of the forest blots out the remaining light.

“Wait,” he says, pulling me to a stop. “I’ve been here before—”

“I know,” I say, yanking him back to a walk. I have to get this over with before I change my mind.

His hand is warm in mine, and it’s almost too much. I want to turn around and pin him to a tree and kiss him with everything I have. But instead, I force myself to keep walking, to ignore the humming of my veins.

We emerge into the clearing, and the lake shines under the light of the moon.

“I was just here. Two nights ago . . .” Cole says, a little in awe. “It was so strange, I—”

“I know,” I say. “That’s what this is about. I saw you at this lake over a month ago. Why did you come?”

“I come up here a lot. Not this lake, specifically, but the forest. Just to get away from things. I got turned around that night, ended up here when I should have been on my way home, but it was peaceful and I didn’t want to leave. If you were here, then why didn’t you—”

“Because I didn’t want you to come back. But you did. You don’t understand—this is my lake.”

He furrows his brow. “But it’s part of the park system. At least, I thought it was. One of my favorite trails is just a little further down the gravel road. But this lake is not on the maps.”

“I know. That’s why it’s mine.”

Cole looks like he’s going to say something, then stops himself, looking out at the lake again. I pull him over to the tree where I stood that night I watched him. I can feel it all as if it just happened: the bark digging into my nails, the fury boiling in my veins.

Maybe if I’d known who he’d become to me, how much I’d come to love him, I could have avoided all of this. Instead, I am about to do the one thing I thought I would never do.