The Guardians (15 page)

“You should have known I don’t do relationships.” A cruel smirk etched across Landon’s face. “It’s a shame cause you were a pretty good lay for a virgin.”

Abby’s heart clenched, and the pain ricocheted through me to where I had to fight for my breath. The bell rang, and people scattered across the courtyard. Abby buried her face in her hands as Landon left her alone under the tree. I sprinted over as fast as I could. “Abby?”

Her head snapped up. “Elijah…”

I knelt down beside her. “Are you all right?”

“No,” she murmured before she burst into tears again. I fought the urge to run after Landon. I wanted to punch his face in for using her like he had. But I didn’t.

Her weeping was so violent I feared her small frame might snap under the pressure. Hesitantly, I put my hand out and touched her on the shoulder. When she didn’t shy away, something gave me the courage to draw her into my arms.

As she pressed against me, a strange sensation pulsed through my body. It wasn’t the same feeling I got whenever I took children into my arms to comfort them. It was a tingling that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. She shifted against me, and I couldn’t help but feel the curves of her body. I glanced up at the sky and gritted my teeth. What was I thinking? Abby was heart-broken and weeping uncontrollably, and all I could think about was the way her body felt.

I shuddered with guilt, which caused Abby to pull back and look at me. “Want me to help you to class?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Take me somewhere else, Elijah. I can’t stay at school right now.”

“Um, should I call your dad or take you home?”

Once I stared into Abby’s pleading eyes, I knew she wanted none of that. She was asking me to go against my angelic character by skipping school. There was only one place I could think of that I could take Abby.

Chapter Fourteen: ELIJAH

Abby stopped crying by the time we got to her car. She handed me her keys, and I tried climbing into the driver’s side. With my long legs, I was crammed against the steering wheel. I must’ve looked like a giant trying to get into a miniature car. I was fumbling to ease the seat back when I heard Abby giggling beside me. I whirled around to see the amusement in her eyes, and it was a beautiful sight.

Once I got the seat adjusted, we got on the road. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, when we sped past the turn-off for our subdivision.

“The hospital. I thought you could meet the kids I volunteer with.”

“Okay,” she replied, tentatively.

When I pulled the car into the hospital parking lot, her emotions were becoming volatile again, and at any moment, I felt she might go over the edge. “Abby, now that I think about it, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I mean, you’ve had a really tough day, and the kids are…” I drew in a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s all really hard to deal with what they’re going through.”

Abby shook her head. “No, I want to meet them.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we could go get ice cream instead, or we go visit Cassie. She works up in the nursery.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“All right.”

As soon as we entered the day room, the children ambushed us. “Elijah’s here early!” they cried.

“Hey guys!” I replied.

I glanced over to survey Abby’s expression, fully expecting her to be a little freaked out. With chalky white skin, treatment ravaged bald heads, and large eyes protruding from emaciated faces, I could see how they would be somewhat frightening to Abby.

But she appeared the same way she would facing a crowd at a football game. She gave an enthusiastic wave. “Hi everybody! I’m Elijah’s friend, Abby.”

Max, the unofficial spokesman of the group, dragged his IV pole over to peer curiously at us. Then a broad grin spread across his face. “Hey Elijah, is she your girlfriend?”

A chorus of “oooos” and kissy noises rang throughout the room. I blushed, but Abby only giggled.

Finally, I found my voice. “No, Max, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Max replied, skeptically.

“And where’s
your
girlfriend, Max?” Abby asked.

Max snorted. “Like I’d have just one.”

Abby giggled. “Oh, so you’re a player, huh? Guess I’ll have to keep my eyes on you.” She reached out and rubbed Max’s head to which he didn’t protest. Danielle, a five-year-old with Leukemia, tugged on Abby’s hand. “You’re pretty.”

Abby smiled. “Aw, thank you.” She knelt down beside Danielle. “You know, you’re very pretty, too.”

Smiling shyly, Danielle reached out to touch Abby’s lips. At first, I thought Abby would shrink away, but she held firm, allowing the little girl to tentatively press her fingers to her lips. “I like your lipstick.”

“Thanks, it’s new.” Reaching into her purse, Abby took out a gold tube. “Would you like me to put some on you?”

Danielle grinned and bobbed her head. Abby looked questioningly up at me to make sure it was okay. I nodded. Tenderly, she rolled the delicate pink lipstick across Danielle’s pale lips. When she finished, she took a compact out of her purse and held it up, letting Danielle admire her reflection. “That’s a great color on you,” Abby said.

Danielle giggled. Two other little girls abandoned the movie they were watching and rushed over to Abby. “I want to be pretty too!”

“No, me first!”

Abby laughed. “Okay, okay, I promise everybody who wants to be pretty will get to be. Just come on over, and I’ll fix you up.”

After emptying her cosmetic bag, Abby spent the rest of the time putting make-up on the girls. She gave informal lessons on how to correctly apply eye-shadow and how to pick out the best shades of lipstick. All the girls bobbed their heads knowingly through her explanations.

While Abby was giving her beauty tips, Max hung around, surveying the process. From the way he was gazing at her, I could see a crush forming. I certainly couldn’t blame him. Her nurturing side truly shone with the kids. The self-less way she had put away her own pain and problems was endearing.
Then the way she interacted so effortlessly with the kids made my heart swell with love. I saw the true beauty of her soul as she took the time to talk to each and every child.

The nurses came to usher the kids to their rooms for dinner, and they turned to us with frowns and down-cast eyes.

“No sad faces, remember? I’ll be back tomorrow,” I promised.

Their faces brightened. Danielle looked up at Abby. “What about you?”

Max nodded. “Yeah, will you come back to see us?”

Abby grinned. “Sure, of course I will.”

“Yeah!” came a happy chorus.

We followed the kids out of the day room and down the corridor. “You were great with them,” I said.

“Really?”

“Yep, I think your fan club might get bigger than mine!”

She grinned. “I hope so. I mean, they’re a great group of kids.” She hung back a moment, and I turned to her.

“Abby?”

She looked up at me with tears glistening in her eyes. I touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I just feel so stupid!”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I was being so selfish and so ridiculous thinking my world is ending because of how Landon treated me. Then I come here, and I see them.” She shook her head. “Their world really is ending.”

Sensing she was on the verge of a meltdown, I grabbed her hand. “Come on. There’s somewhere I’d like to show you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Where is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Abby’s lips. “All right.” Using the back of her sleeve, she wiped her eyes.

I led her down several corridors. When we reached an unauthorized staircase, Abby jerked on my hand.

“We’re not supposed to go up there,” she protested.

I grinned. “But we’re VIP’s remember?”

She shook her head and returned my smile. “All right.”

We pounded up the stairs. I took a card out of my pocket and swiped it through the card reader. Then I pushed open the door leading outside. We stepped out onto the roof. Abby stared at me in surprise. “Is this where the life flight helicopters come in?”

I nodded. “There’s something else I want to show you.” I took her hand and pulled her close to the edge of the building. The stifling summer air became cooler, and the overwhelming sounds of the city were muted. The multicolored lights of the skyscrapers winked against the darkening night sky. “See, if you look down at the chain of cars on the interstate, you can almost imagine they look like a shimmering diamond necklace.”

“You’re right, they do,” she replied.

As we stood at the edge of the building, wind whipped our hair and clothes. “Do you come up here a lot?” Abby asked.

I nodded. “When things get crazy for me. After awhile, I feel a little better.”

“That’s surprising.”

I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just you seem to always have everything together. I never imagined you’d need a place to get away from everything,” Abby explained.

“You think I have it all together?”

She nodded.

“Abby, you’re wrong. I don’t have it together. I mean, I’m just getting by like everyone else.”

“I just hope someday I can be like you, Elijah. I mean, you’ve lost both your parents, but you’re so strong—even in your faith. You give your time and energy to making things better for those kids.” She smiled. “I’m really inspired by you.”

I fought the flush filling my cheeks. “Um, I’m, uh, really not inspiring.”

“You are to me.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

Abby stared out over the city. “Thanks for bringing me up here.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she glanced down to the street, Abby reeled back, bringing her hand to her forehead.

“Are you all right?” I questioned.

“I’m just a little dizzy, that’s all.” She took a few steps back from the edge.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“I was too upset too.”

“Why don’t I buy you some dinner?” I suggested.

“Really?” Abby asked.

“It would just be the cafeteria. Nothing exciting or anything.”

She laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

“All right, great,” I said, opening the door. I led her back downstairs to the cafeteria. We grabbed a tray and started sliding it down the counter, picking out what we wanted to eat. Even if she hadn’t eaten, Abby still only selected grilled chicken and some green beans. I doubled my portions with the intention of influencing her to eat more.

We picked a table and had a seat. When I pushed an extra order of creamed potatoes over to her, Abby didn’t say anything. Thankfully, it was only a few minutes before she started eating them. Once she had eaten a little, I cleared my throat. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I am. The food is better than I thought.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said.

She laid her fork on her plate and stared intently at me. “Elijah, I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you today. Even though Andrea and Kim are my best friends, I just don’t think I could have talked to them.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because they would have said ‘we told you so’. They warned me not to get involved with Landon.”

“How come?”

Abby shrugged. “I guess they saw what I couldn’t. They kept telling me he was a jerk and that he...”

“What?” I prompted.

Tears pricked her eyes. “That he had a way of getting girls drunk to get what he wanted out of them.” She glanced down at her lap. “After Mom died, I let something happen with Landon that I never should have.”

Abby’s regret and anger rocketed through me. I saw all too clearly what had happened the past summer at Landon’s parent’s cabin in the woods. Before I could see more than I wanted to, I cleared my throat. “It sounds like Andrea and Kim knew what they were talking about.”

Abby dabbed her eyes with her napkin. “Yeah, they were. They’ve never really been supportive about the guys I date. They say it’s because I act different around them.”

“Like how?”

She cocked her head, appearing thoughtful. “Like I’m someone else--someone they want me to be. Like I’m afraid of letting them see the real me.”

“Do you think that was true?” I asked.

Abby stared down at her plate. “Maybe.”

“But why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. Because I want to make guys happy. I want them to like me—to love me, so I act the way I think makes them happy.” Abby twirled the straw in her cup and shook her head. “Because in the end, they probably wouldn’t like the real me.”

“That’s ridiculous Abby!” I exclaimed, banging my hand down on the table. The clattering silverware took both of us off guard. My face flushed down to my neck. “What I meant to say is what could there possibly be about you that’s not likeable?”