Touching the Surface (10 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Sabatini

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Themes, #New Experience, #Friendship, #Death & Dying, #General, #Social Issues

BOOK: Touching the Surface
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I just wanted them to leave me alone. Couldn’t they see that their daughter had died the same day as Oliver Lowry, one of the most popular kids at school? I scanned their faces, realizing that they couldn’t let go of their hope, denial, or both.

I questioned my ability to rouse enough energy to get them to leave me alone. There was only one way they’d let me be; I needed to lie. If I fed the illusion they were clinging to, their denial would have something to nourish it.

My unused voice cracked, but the words fell easily from my lips. “I was thinking of taking a walk, maybe going over to Cari’s house.” It didn’t matter that my BFF hadn’t stopped by, hadn’t called. It didn’t matter that Cari’s silence was so loud it hurt my ears. She did know what I had done, but she had nothing to say and that spoke volumes.

Like I’d expected, their hope was a spark, so I blew on it gently.

“Sweetie,” said my dad, “would you like me to drive you over to her house?”

“Or I could brush out your hair and curl it for you?}
@font-face
{hibto” my mom asked. Her fingers trembled. It was as if she longed to touch something familiar.

“I—I would really like to get out and about by myself. Maybe things will feel more normal,” I said, pasting a smile on my face. I hoped my cheeks wouldn’t crack from the effort. It hurt, knowing for sure that it was so easy to fool them.

I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. It’s amazing what water doesn’t wash away. An hour later I gave a reassuring wave to my parents as I walked down the road toward Cari’s house. I glanced back over my shoulder
once. Mom and Dad pulsated with hope at the appearance of normality. I turned back, unable to get out of their line of vision fast enough. I felt exposed out here in the open. The world was too big.

Avoiding Cari’s house, I headed for the trees, my feet falling into a mind-numbing rhythm as I hiked farther and farther into the woods.

I was ready and willing to be lost, and very much surprised to find myself standing on the tree line of the cemetery.

•  •  •

The guy from the cemetery. Oliver’s brother. He saw me watching him in the woods. His index finger made contact with my shoulder. It was a concentrated point of accusation and I tried to flee from it. My heel caught a root and down I went. I was vulnerable. This past week I’d witnessed his agony. I’d watched his pain unfold while I sat hidden in the trees. I knew there was nothing he could do to me that I didn’t deserve. Yet despite having lost the will to live, I scooted farther away, trying to find protection from the shrapnel of his fury.

“Who are you? Why are you always here watching me?” he asked, his voice tight. He wedged his fingers under my upper arm, trying to yank me up off the ground. I dug in my heels.

Honestly, I hadn’t thought it was possible that he didn’t know. How ironic, I thought to myself. This boy hated me already and he didn’t even know who I was or what I’d done.

“You’re hurting me,” I whimpered.

He stopped yanking and let go. I rubbed my upper arm, trying to regain the circulation but not actually feeling any better.

“I’m sorry.”

He appeared less menacing when he was apologetic. He had the palest blue eyes that I’d ever seen.

“Like I said,” he ran his fingers through a mop of jet-black hair, hair the same color as the marble gravestone he’d been sitting on. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, it’s just that my bro—” He composed his face. “It’s just been a hard time lately. You were making me really uncomfortable. I thought you might be one of those reporters or—never mind. I had no right to take my anger out on you.”

I should tell him who I am,
I thought.
I must tell him who I am.
But at the exact moment that my mouth opened, his hand shot out toward me. Without a thought, I cringed and scuttled deeper into the ~msuwoods, pressed my back against a tree.

“Oh shit, I’m really sorry. I’m just trying to help you up off of the ground. Please . . .” His hand moved forward, more slowly this time. He opened his fingers, palm up, advertising its innocence.

Tell him,
my conscience screamed.
Tell him now!

I reached for his hand. His fingers closed warmly around mine.

“You’re freezing! Come out here in the sun where it’s warm,” he said.

I felt so embarrassed. He was obviously trying to keep the crazy girl from climbing into the underbrush.

I’ll tell him in a minute,
I thought.
He’s being so nice and I haven’t spoken to a single person besides my parents in weeks, and with them I mostly nod.
It felt good to say words aloud again.
Everything at home is so unspeakable. I’ll tell him in a minute—when I’m done remembering why I can’t possibly tell him.

“Hey, anybody there?” It was Oliver’s older brother waving his hand in front of my face. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?”

“Elliot,” I said, tensing in case he recognized the name after all. While I’d known Oliver—heck, everyone knew Oliver—I hadn’t known his brother. Didn’t even know he’d had one.

“My name’s Trevor. Listen, I don’t blame you for having a bad first impression of me. I’m an idiot. Would it be okay if we just talked for a little bit? It feels good not to be alone.” He appeared younger and more vulnerable now that the anger wasn’t pouring out of him.

Tell him. You have to tell him the truth.

“All right,” came the whisper of air passing over my lips. I was hypnotized by the sensation of being innocent again.

“Okay.” Trevor gave a shy smile. “Me first. I’ll give you something easy, to warm you up. What’s your favorite color?”

“Brown.”

“Brown? That’s a little weird. I’ve never met anyone who likes brown the best. Care to elaborate?” He chuckled, giving me the once over. “On second thought,” he said slowly. “You don’t have to explain at all, it’s right in front of me. Earth tones suit you with s focus was el

14

choices

I felt groggy and disoriented. The left side of my face was sore where it’d been pressed up against a rock for the duration of the Delve. We were both a lot slower coming out of this Delve than the previous one.

“Stop doing that without giving me any warning.” Trevor stood up and stretched out his arms.

“I’m not the only one causing Delves, you know.” I kicked a rock and it actually skipped four times before sinking. I couldn’t have done that if I’d been trying.

“Yeah, I know, but I can’t believe you pulled us back out of that Delve before we found out how your big announcement went over.”

“I didn’t pull us back, we just came back,” I huffed.

“I don’t think you consciously pulled us back, but maybe you didn’t want to know how I reacted to learning who you were.”

He was probably right, now that I thought about it. We’d been in my past life, not his.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I announced.

“Do what? Be dead?” There was a sarcastic edge to his voice. “You could’ve thought of that before you started playing with your cell phone while you were driving. Before you dragged us all here with you.”

It was cruel and it reminded me of how fragile this new peace between us really was.

“I didn’t kill you! I killed Oliver and it was an accident.” I picked up a rock and launched it as far over the pond as I could, wrenching my shoulder with the effort. The irony that I was defending myself by referencing manslaughter was not lost on me.

“How do I know you didn’t kill me too?” came Trevor’s steady voice.

I gasped.

He shrugged his shoulders with a fake apology. “All I know is that I’m dead and I died right after you did. I know this because I watched you walk away from the _t iblllake, to the Haven. Dying that close together—doesn’t that make you wonder?”
Trevor scowled. “Maybe I hated you enough to kill you. And then I couldn’t live with myself any more than I could live with you. No matter how you slice it—still your fault.”

I hadn’t made that connection before. I’d been too engrossed in my own death and reemergence at the Obmil. My head was pounding with the revelation. Could he have really done that? I shivered.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I said again. My voice sounded wooden. I stood up and headed through the trees toward the Haven.

“Hey—where are you going?” Trevor asked. Feeling the now-familiar grip of his fingers around my upper arm, I shook him off and put the pond far behind me as quickly as I could. I wished he would storm off like he usually did, but I could hear him snapping the underbrush behind me.

I whirled around. “I just need to get away from you right now.” I dug my fingers into my temples. “Why don’t you go find Julia? I’m sure she could distract you.” It came out harsher than I’d planned and it brought an unexpected flash of confusion across his face. Just as quickly as the vulnerability had illuminated itself, his all-too-familiar stoniness dropped into place.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I pleaded. “It’s too much right now. I need to get away from it for a little bit.”

“Do you know the funny thing about you, Elliot? You never do the expected. When I wanted you far away and out of my very existence, you just kept popping up. I couldn’t get away from you, and now that—” Trevor’s voice stopped short.

“Now that . . .” I echoed.

His face gave nothing away.

“Now that I know you better, I’m realizing how perceptive you are. I was hoping you’d get the hell out of here and give me some space. Now that you mention it, I think I will go meet Julia.” His shirt blazed with the words
I’M NOT BEING RUDE, YOU’RE JUST
INSIGNIFICANT
!

I didn’t wait for another attack; instead I turned around and headed home. Let Julia have him.

•  •  •

The sun was high in the sky, baking the back of my neck as I approached the Haven. The air had become humid and felt heavy in my lungs. Mosquitoes pooled around me.

There wasn’t a soul in sight as I moved along the path. It was a relief to be alone. I was exhausted from living and reliving so many emotions. The sound of my footsteps bounced off the shadowy portcullis, emphasizing my solitude. In a flash of panic I imagined everyone else enlightened to the meaning of life, all souls having vanished from the Obmil, leaving me here on my own.

I dashed up the stone steps into the Haven. The air wasn’t as moist in the lodge, but everything was eerily still inside the cavernous lobby. I wandered past Freddie’s empty front desk to the now dark fireplace that was big enough for me to walk into upright. I’d hoped to find Oliver here, telling funny stories or giving piggyback rides to the little kids. I needed my Oliver battery recharged. But of course no one was here—it was midmorning and everyone was at Workshop. I’d left on my hike before breakfast, and because of Trevor piece of informationasu and the Delves, I’d completely lost track of time. Mel was going to be finger-tapping annoyed.

Everyone had probably been sitting there for hours, waiting for us to show up and Delve. I pictured the senior citizens playing bingo. The antsy businessmen who paced the floor might be upset, but they’d likely be more annoyed that we caused a deviation in their schedule than that we deprived them of the opportunity for personal development. Then again, maybe they hadn’t been waiting for long. I wouldn’t put it past Trevor to head straight there after leaving the pond. His motive, of course, would be to show me up. He’d likely Delve and find out something important without me, something even worse to use against me. Then he’d run to Julia so she could comfort him.

With a sigh of resignation I realized there was no way I
could retreat to the quiet of my little upstairs nest. Mel might not be happy that I’d lost track of time, but she would be even less pleased if I made the decision not to come at all.

I spun around, ready to head back up the trail, when I heard a noise. I froze, straining to hear where the faint moan had come from. Then it came again. What first sounded like an exclamation of pain was now a low rumbling sob. My feet moved me through the lobby and down the hall. As I passed the dining room I realized I’d have to branch off into the residential wing. The gut-wrenching noise was coming from one of the rooms.

Part of me wanted to tear through the hall, flinging open doors so that I could help whoever was in need, but I found myself moving forward cautiously. The sobs became louder as I moved farther down the passageway. When I rounded the last corner, it was clear that they were coming from the end room. I inched forward slowly. The door was halfway open and I was afraid to be seen. Curiosity won out and I allowed myself to sneak a glimpse over the threshold.

“Mama,” the voice sobbed. I peeked my head ever so slowly around the door.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. David was lying on a twin bed, curled up in the fetal position. He was half wrapped in and half cuddling a ratty-looking blue cotton blanket.

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