A Beautiful Dark (2 page)

“True.” She reached for another cupcake, splitting it in half with a fork. “I have many talents.” She absently passed me the other half. “I sort of outdid myself tonight, didn’t I?”

“You did,” I agreed. “Next year, though, when I say no surprise party, I mean no surprise party.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” Ian said.

“If we don’t throw you a party, who will?” Cassie asked, before turning her attention back to Dan.

I knew she didn’t mean them to, but her words stung. I thought of my parents. I had such fuzzy memories of them because I was so young when they died, but my mom’s best friend—my legal guardian, who I call Aunt Jo—had given me this whole box of photos from my childhood with them. Apparently every year on my birthday, my mom would bake me a woefully lopsided cake from Funfetti mix, and she’d let me decorate it with chocolate
and
vanilla frosting in a marble pattern. The cakes were all pretty hideous, according to the pictures, but marble-frosted Funfetti cake was still my favorite dessert. Funny the things I could suddenly miss even though I barely remembered them.

“You look really great,” Ian said quietly, bringing me back to the present.

“Thanks,” I said. “Must be that one-year-older thing.”

“No, you always look great.” He blushed, suddenly fascinated by what was left of his cupcake.

He was wearing a green polo shirt with the Bean logo over his heart. Not exactly sexy. I knew he wouldn’t believe me if I told him he looked good, too. It would just be me trying to feel comfortable with his compliment. Trying to make us both feel comfortable with it.

It was getting hot in there, too loud, too crowded. I never did well with small spaces and large gatherings. I wanted to be on the slopes, skiing, with the exhilaration of the bracing wind rushing over my face. That was where I always wanted to be.

“I need air,” I announced to the group.

“You mean
frostbite
?” Cassie looked up dubiously. “Have fun.”

“Bundle up, dear!” Dan called in his best grandma voice.

I scanned the pile of coats on the couch for a glimpse of mine. All I could see were my hat and scarf peeking out from under someone’s parka.

“You want company?” Ian asked.

“Thanks,” I said, pretending to be engrossed in searching for my outerwear, “but I’m just going to catch a few deep breaths. Not worth you getting frostbite, too.”

“That’s cool.” He stood up. “I gotta get back to work anyway.”

“The cupcakes were great.”

“I didn’t bake them.” His voice held a strange, disappointed edge to it, and I was left with the feeling that I’d somehow done something wrong.

With a sigh, I watched him walk away.
Why didn’t you just say yes, Skye? Would his joining you have been the worst thing ever?
No, but I craved the solitude, just a couple of minutes alone. He’d understand. He always did.

After snatching my hat and scarf from the couch and slipping them on, I snuck out the front door.

The cold air swallowed me whole. It felt good, revitalized me. Out here, it was quiet and peaceful. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the alone time. When I opened them, the full moon stared back at me, lighting up the mountains below.

“Hey.”

I whipped around, embarrassed at being caught having a moment of reflection. Someone was standing against the wall of the building behind me. I could see the outline of a guy’s tall, sinewy frame, but his face was obscured by the shadows cast by the awning.

“Oh,” I gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can—” I turned toward the door.

“No, stay,” he said. “It was getting too quiet.” He stepped into the light. “I’m not used to living so close to the mountains. I think they create a sound buffer, or something.”

Our eyes met, and something in the way he looked at me made me pause. The blackness of his eyes was magnetic, and something strange flickered through my own in response. I had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu.

It was dark where we stood on the street, but what moonlight there was shone on his face, exaggerating the definition of his cheekbones and illuminating his smooth olive skin. His short hair was so black that it was hard to tell where he ended and the night began. “You’re Skye, right?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, tearing my eyes away to look back out at the mountains. I didn’t want him to catch me staring. Did I know him? He didn’t look familiar, but he seemed to recognize me. Maybe he’d heard someone inside say my name. “Hiding from my own party. I’m such a winner.”

He sized me up. “You don’t strike me as someone who would avoid a good time. So there must be more to the story. Anything—or anyone—specific that you’re hiding from?”

“Nope,” I said. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” His tone was playful, like we’d known each other all our lives and shared secrets.

“Or everything,” I admitted, trying not to smile.

He laughed, and the low sound echoed across the empty street. My stomach twisted.
Calm yourself, Skye
. I never reacted this way to guys I’d just met. I was usually the cool and collected one. It was Cassie who was boy crazy.

“So do you make a habit of ducking out of your own parties?” he asked.

“Only when they’re thrown for me against my will. Do you make a habit of lurking outside of
other
people’s parties?” I shot back.

“Without question.” He grinned, showing off an adorable dimple. “You never know who you’ll meet.”

We stood on the silent street for a while, at an impasse, just watching our breath escape in clouds of steam into the night. I wanted to keep talking to him, but my brain felt stuck.

You really need to stop letting Cassie empty her flask into your drink, I thought.

“I should go inside,” I said finally. “They’re going to wonder where I disappeared to.”

“What’d you wish for?”

I turned to face him again. “What?”

“Your birthday wish,” he said. “You know. Closing your eyes. Blowing out the candles. What did you wish for?”

For some unknown reason, warmth rushed up my spine, flooding my cheeks. Why did so innocent a question seem so intimate? “I must have forgotten to make one,” I said, realizing as the words left my mouth that they were true.

“It’s not too late,” he said. “You’ve still got half an hour to change your life.”

I looked at him, confused. What a strange thing to say to someone you’d just met. “Maybe I don’t want to change my life.”

“You wouldn’t change anything at all?”

My mind flashed to my parents, of course, but wishing for a way to feel closer to them was impossible. “No,” I said. “Not really.”

“Well, I hope that works out for you.”

I turned back toward the door, feeling like I’d missed the point of the conversation somehow.

“I’ll see you around, Skye,” he said as I walked back inside. “Happy birthday.”

Chapter 2

I
n the privacy of the fluorescent-lit bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes were flashing silver in the light—true silver, not the silvery gray they appeared to be on most days. I blinked, but nothing changed. They only flashed brighter, more vibrantly. They reminded me of a movie we watched in chemistry earlier in the year. When the scientist broke an old thermometer into a petri dish, the mercury slipped from the cracks in the glass, quick and light, not nearly as thick and goopy as I’d expected it would be.

I couldn’t quiet my heartbeat. What had caused my eyes to look this way? Had the effect started before I went outside? Or did it have something to do with the unexpected attraction I’d felt to the guy leaning against the wall? I realized now that I didn’t even know his name.

When I heard the door to the bathroom open followed by the sound of laughter, I fled into the nearest stall and pressed my back against the cool metal door. I fought to calm my erratic heart and wild thoughts, to focus on the problem at hand. I couldn’t face my friends until my eyes were normal gray again. What had I done to make it stop the
last
time this happened?

I’d been skiing in a race about two weeks before. It had been neck and neck for a while—this girl from Holy Cross Academy and I. I’d leaned into the wind, feeling for the turns, blocking out the noise, the sound, everything but the feel of the snow beneath me. At the bottom, when she congratulated me on my win, I took off my goggles. “Whoa,” she’d said. “Are you wearing contacts?” And moments later, in a bathroom so much like this one, I saw it for the first time. My eyes like liquid silver coins staring back at me in shock.

I detached myself from the stall door and waited until the two girls who had interrupted me left, the door squeaking open and then shut. The bathroom was quiet. I emerged, lifting my face once again to stare into the mirror, bracing myself for what I was about to see.

But my eyes were back to the same old nickel gray. Something my dad used to say needled its way into my thoughts.
Little silver bells. When they ring, we’ll know.
It came out of nowhere. I hadn’t thought about it since he’d died.

Pushing the memory aside, I took a deep breath and stood straighter, appraising the rest of me. My skin looked even paler than usual. My jeans and periwinkle sweater, which before had felt just right for a cozy night with friends, now felt frumpy. I took my sweater off. The tight T-shirt underneath was marginally better. My black waves were plastered to my neck from the dancing, and I scooped them up into a ponytail.

I glanced down at my watch. It was almost midnight. I wondered if everyone would give me a hard time for going home this early. Cassie would be disappointed. She’d been gloating all week that she’d convinced Aunt Jo to forfeit my curfew just this one night. I hated to waste it, but I’d suddenly lost all enthusiasm for partying. Why did this keep happening? Was I sick?

The bathroom door squeaked on its hinges again as I pushed my way back into the hall, reminding myself to tell Ian that he should probably get that fixed.

The light in the hall was dim, and it took my eyes a little while to adjust to the difference.

But then I saw them.

Two guys were standing with their backs to me. I could barely make out that one was blond, while the other’s close-cropped hair blended into the dark background. They spoke in hushed tones. Every now and then their voices rose and then fell again, as if the conversation was heated but they were afraid of being overheard. I couldn’t see their faces from where I stood, but I definitely didn’t recognize them.

I could hear only a snippet of the conversation: “Not . . . yet!” The blond guy stood straight, his arms stiff by his sides and his hands balled into fists. “You are not supposed to interfere.”

“Do you think I care?” the dark-haired guy whispered loudly. “Your rules mean nothing to me, Devin.”

In a blur, he pushed the blond guy, sending him toppling back into a stack of wooden chairs that went crashing to the ground. At least, he must have pushed him—he moved too fast for me to see exactly what had happened. Everyone turned around to look. Someone cut the music. Devin looked stunned as he lay tangled on the floor amid a nest of chairs.

“I can see that,
Asher
.”

Devin shoved himself to his feet. Asher came back at him, and the two locked together, head to head. Some people in the crowd shouted. I tried to suppress the panic rising in my throat.

“You would have done the same thing.” Asher’s voice was a growl, deep and menacing.

“You know I wouldn’t have.”

As the crowd gathered in closer, I found myself right at the front, inside the circle. People jostled against me, striving to get a better view. I was trapped.

“Well, whose fault is that?”

Devin twisted around in Asher’s grip, and Asher went flying backward—toward me. I couldn’t move; the crowd was packed in too tight. Closing my eyes, I held my arms out to catch him as he hurtled into me, sending us both to the hardwood floor. Pain jolted through me as the impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, and I gasped.

“Skye!” I heard Cassie’s voice rise above the ringing in my ears.

I couldn’t call out to her; I could barely move. Asher weighed a ton, and I was pinned beneath him. He turned around to right himself, pressing his arms into the floor on either side of my head for balance. His face was right above mine. His eyes widened.

It was the guy I’d met on the street just a few minutes ago. The one who’d asked me what I’d wished for on my birthday. His eyes, even in all this chaos, were deep and dizzying. Looking into them was like trying to follow a penny as it falls down a well.

I caught my breath, and feeling slowly returned to my limbs.

“Get
off of me
!” I shoved as hard as I could, catching Asher off guard. He tumbled to the side, and I scrambled up. “Jerk.”

I noticed the other guy, Devin, staring at me, too.

Then a loud popping noise startled me, and something began hissing loudly. I fought to push my way through the crowd toward where Cassie’s voice had last emerged. Suddenly, the ground rumbled; I lost my balance and fell to my knees. Shouts grew louder, panicked screams echoed around me, and someone’s hands gripped my arms from behind.

“Skye!”

I turned around to face Cassie and clutched her arm in relief. “What’s going on?”

Cassie shook her head, her eyes huge. “I don’t have an effing clue.”

“Earthquake!” someone yelled.

Chaos erupted as though a switch had been thrown. I heard glass shattering, mugs and plates falling off shelves.

Cassie tightened her grip on my arm. “Let’s get out of here!” She pulled me toward the door. “Hurry!”

The ground was quaking beneath us. As I turned toward the door, I noticed Dan and Ian running up alongside us. Dan took hold of Cassie’s free arm. As Ian grabbed my other arm, he gave me a strange look.

Then he and Dan were propelling us through the door.

“Get to your cars!” Dan yelled. “Ian’s on duty. I’ll stay with him while he calls the police.”

The two of them raced back toward the building.