A Need So Beautiful (14 page)

I’m about to go back to the journal when my bedroom door swings open, scaring the hell out of me.

“Hey,” Alex says, standing there and buttoning his wool coat. “Mercy’s looking for you. You’re going to be late.”

“But . . .” My phone vibrates. I don’t look at it because I know Sarah’s going to cuss me out, or worse, be nice. Sarah uses sweetness as a weapon. The journal is in my lap and I look at Alex.

“That dinner was intense last night, right?” he asks. “I thought Georgia was going to cut you.”

“Thanks for having my back,” I murmur.

He laughs. “I would have gladly backed you up, but I had no idea what you were talking about. I didn’t know you got hit by a car. Not until the next day when I came in here to steal your moisturizer. You need to lay off the weed, sister.”

He’s forgotten seeing me that night. What if he forgets everything? I’m suddenly scared of losing him. “Alex?” I ask, needing some assurance. “Remember that time when we were kids and I accidentally tripped you and you fell down the stairs? You needed like eight stitches in your arm?”

“Yeah, Charlotte. Still have the scar.”

I laugh out loud, thankful. So thankful that he can remember. “Sorry about that.”

“Sure you are. Now are you getting up or not? Mercy made you breakfast.”

Then I realize that if I stay in this room, I won’t be building new memories. I’ll let myself fade away. I can’t fight the Need yet, but I can fight against being forgotten. Maybe that’s what Onika did. Monroe did write that she started going to classes again.

And if I go through the motions—school, going out—I’ll be reinforcing my existence. They
can’t
forget me if I never leave.

“I’m getting up right now,” I say seriously to Alex. He furrows his brow, possibly confused by the Terminator tone in my voice.

But at least it’s something for him to remember.

I grab my robe off the back of my desk chair and wander out into the hallway after Alex leaves. My stomach growls from the smell of eggs and bacon. When I get to the kitchen, I see Mercy, setting a plate on the counter and scooping eggs out of a pan when she looks up to see me.

“Morning, honey,” she says with a sad smile. “Are you feeling better today? Monroe called earlier and said you might be a little confused because of your head injury.” She tsks, and comes to check on my stitches again.

“He called here?” Somehow it bothers me that he’s checking on me. As if he’s trying to control me. I don’t like it.

“What else did he say?” I ask, putting a forkful of food into my mouth.

“That you were very upset last time he saw you. He didn’t say why. . . .” She pauses. “Are you having problems with Harlin, honey?”

“No.” I resent that Monroe would even put that idea into Mercy’s mind, which I’m sure he did. What better way to explain my depression than a breakup? I want to call him right now and tell him to drop dead, but I know I don’t have time for that. I don’t have time for Monroe, he’ll remember me no matter what. Right now I just have to have a normal day. Reaffirm my existence. I have to
live
if I want to be remembered.

“Harlin and I are perfect,” I say, even though that may not be exactly true. But I plan to fix that. I plan to be the best girlfriend ever.

“I’m glad. He’s sweet.” Mercy sits down across from me and sips from her coffee. I watch her, pain aching inside me. Mercy is the only mother I’ve ever known. What if she forgets me? What will I do without my mother?

“By the way,” she says, putting another piece of bacon on my plate, “I thought we could go shopping later. Maybe for shoes? I’m tired of seeing you in those scuffed-up thrift-store finds.”

“Oh no. I’m not walking around in chunky heels or strapless leg breakers.”

“Fashion is your friend, Charlotte.”

“You sound like Sarah.”

Mercy playfully rolls her eyes. “Then God help me.” We sit quietly, both smiling as we share a meal but then suddenly, I’m struck with loss.

“I love you, Ma,” I say.

She puts down her coffee cup and beams at me, looking completely surprised. “I love you, too.” Her eyes fill up with tears. “You’re still my little girl, no matter how old you get.” She smiles and wipes quickly to keep from smudging her black eyeliner.

And I try to smile back, but I’m crying too. Because unless I can stop this, I won’t be her little girl anymore. I’ll be no one.

Sarah is waiting for me on the stairs of St. Vincent’s Academy, tapping her black leather shoe. It’s nice seeing her like that, annoyed. It means things are still the same.

“Morning,” I say, jogging up to meet her.

“
Morning?
What the hell is with the cheerful? And where’s my latte?” She glances at her watch because I’m close to twenty minutes late, which is why I didn’t make the usual coffee stop.

“At least I’m here today, right?” I bat my eyelashes as she grabs me by the elbow and walks me into school.

The halls of St. Vincent’s smell like furniture polish and incense. The ceilings are tall, and dark wood floors stretch ahead of us.

“Here’s the current situation,” Sarah says, applying lip gloss as we walk. “Seth heard I made an unflattering comment about his . . . anatomy and physiology, and he’s not pleased.” She grins anyway. “And now he wants to meet me at lunch.”

I turn to her. “You are not meeting him.”

“I know I shouldn’t,” she says. “But I’m kind of curious, you know? I mean, he could bitch me out anytime, but he wants to meet outside in the courtyard. Alone. I think he feels bad.”

I can’t decide if I’m mishearing her or if she’s stupid. “Sarah, he told everyone that you—”

“I know, thanks for reminding me.” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone point. I look over to see Carver Braun and his buddies snickering as we pass. I take the opportunity to flip him off and then go back to Sarah.

“Look,” I say. “I just can’t understand why you’d put yourself through it. I mean, it’s not like you’re desperate for a date. You could have anyone you want.” The bell overhead rings loudly and I glance up at it before looking at Sarah. When I do, she’s staring at me.

“Really?” she asks. “Name one.”

I run through the student body in my head when I realize . . . there is no one. Sarah has dated most of the normal, a few of the not-so-normal, and all of the bad boys. She might have to start looking at the community college.

“Not all of us have found the
guy
, Charlotte,” she murmurs, and reaches to adjust the strap of her backpack. I have a guilty feeling, one that occasionally comes when it’s obvious that Harlin and I aren’t like everyone else.

I don’t respond; just start walking toward my class and leave her behind me, not sure how I can make it right.

“Charlotte,” she calls, like she’s ready to apologize. “Meet me before lunch!” she adds just as I turn the corner into physics class.

Ow
. I slam face-first into a muscular chest, dropping my bag off my shoulder. “That hurt,” I say, touching my nose and then glancing at my fingers to make sure it’s not bleeding. There’s a husky chuckle and I look up to see Brandon Whaler, resident tool.

“Sorry about that, Charlotte,” he says. “You should have aimed your face a little lower. You know, like your friend.”

I narrow my eyes, my hands balling into fists at my side. “Brandon, you’re just jealous because you know that Sarah would never get within ten feet of your shriveled, little—”

And suddenly it strikes. My vision blurs, my skin catches fire, Brandon is gone. Only this is different from the Need. This is something else.

“You okay?” I hear, but can’t respond. It’s like I don’t have a mouth. It’s like I’m not here.

I’m on the bridge, the night dark and starless around me. It starts to rain and I can feel the splatters on my skin, but when I look down, there is nothing. No rain. No skin. Just glowing light.

I search for Onika, knowing that she’s always here waiting for me. Then from the other side of the bridge someone is running toward me. The wind is strong and it’s then that I notice where I am, standing on the guardrail, holding on to the cables. What am I doing here? Am I going to jump?

“Charlotte!”

I look up but I can’t see who it is. They’re too far away, their voice muffled by the storm. But next to me there’s a laugh. “Beautiful night, huh?”

“What’s happening?” I ask, turning toward Onika. “Why am I here?”

She stands up on the railing, balancing effortlessly even in high-heeled boots. “It’s easier to find you this way—in your visions. Although it was nice to see you in the pharmacy. Too bad about Miles, though. He’s been wanting to kill himself for a long while.”

In the distance I can still see a figure coming toward me and I’m frightened. I don’t know what to think anymore.

“So here’s my offer,” Onika says, reaching over to take my chin and turn me toward her, away from the approaching person. Up close, her beautiful porcelain skin has a tiny crack along her cheekbone. I blink quickly, alarmed by it. “You stay on Earth with me,” she says, “and I’ll give you everything you want.”

“How? How did you keep from bursting into light?”

Her icy blue eyes narrow. “It wasn’t easy. And it’s not for everyone. In fact, I’m not even sure you’re up for it. But I’ve been searching for other Forgotten and they were too weak. But you’re more like me. And wouldn’t it be nice if that meant you didn’t have to dissolve?”

“What do I have to do?” The person coming across the bridge is calling for me again, and I see Onika look toward them, her delicate jaw clenching. When she turns back to me, she tries to smile. The crack in her skin spreads slowly like a spiderweb.

“I’ll let you know when the time is right. I’m just happy to hear you’re game. Now . . .” She lets go of my chin and flips up the hood of her jacket. “It’s time for you to go. But first, a little taste of how
blessed
you’ll feel if you go into the light.”

And just then she rams her palms into my chest and sends me flying backward off the bridge. I feel myself falling, pain shredding my skin as I scream. I scream until my voice breaks and I squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for the imminent smack against the water. Then suddenly I feel myself being pulled out of my vision.

I open my eyes and Brandon is shaking me, telling me to stop screaming. I hear a loud noise in my ears but it takes a second for me to register my own shrieks. I stop, the sound still echoing in the room. When I look around, the entire class is staring at me, their mouths hanging open. Brandon seems terrified.

“Jesus, Charlotte. It was just a joke. You didn’t have to go all
Exorcist
on me.”

I’m shaking, every bone in my body feeling hot and out of place. When the teacher comes over and asks if I want to go to the nurse, I say yes and leave.

I walk through the empty halls, fear creeping up my legs and down my arms and I wrap my sweater tightly around me and move a little faster. Off the bridge, that’s how I’ll end—having to leap, just like the people in Monroe’s journal. That’s what happens if I give in to the Need.

But Onika offered a deal. She has a way to stop this, even if Monroe won’t. I’m just not sure if I can trust her. And her face? What happened to cause it to crack?

I shake my head, trying to stay in the moment. I’m losing so much time, time I should be living. So I decide that if that’s my end, falling off a damn bridge, I’m sure as hell not going on one. I have choices still. This is my life.

Chapter 14

I
’m still lying on the cot in the nurse’s office when I hear the sound of a shoe tapping impatiently on the linoleum. I start to smile before I even open my eyes.

“Come to check on me?” I say and manage to sit up. Sarah is there, a Diet Coke in one hand and a bored expression on her face.

“Seriously?” she asks. “You let Brandon One-Brain-Cell Whaler freak you out? I’m pretty sure I kneed him in the balls last year and you gave me a behind-the-back high-five. What happened?”

“It wasn’t him,” I say. “I mean, yeah, he’s a tool, but I don’t know. I—” And I stop because I realize that I can’t really explain. Visions of ghosts and falling off bridges aren’t exactly normal topics of conversation. Even if that’s now my life. “Never mind,” I say. “I think I have a concussion.”

“Probably. You look pale. Hey, you’re still going to go the charity event with me, right?”

I groan.

“Pretty please? It’ll be so boring without you there. I’ll be your best friend.”

I smile at her. “You’re lucky I already know you’re my best friend or my answer would have been a hell no.”

The nurse clears her throat from her desk. “If you’re well enough to make plans for tonight, Ms. Cassidy, I think you’re okay to go back to class.”

I’m a little embarrassed and nod, hopping down from the uncomfortable cot. She hands me a hall pass and I wonder if she thinks I did it all to get out of class. But I don’t say anything and instead follow behind Sarah into the crowded hallway.

As I fall in step next to her, I look sideways, anxiety creeping over me. “Sarah, remember that time last summer when we drove out to the coast to see the beached whale?”

She turns, a blank expression on her face. Please, no.

“Charlotte?” she asks slowly. “Why the hell would you bring that up? You know I puked for like two hours after I smelled that thing.”

I close my eyes, taking in a huge gasp of air. She remembers it.

“Getting hit by cars and screaming in class? I swear, you’re getting weirder by the hour.” She starts walking like she’s in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” I ask as we pass the cafeteria. I’m not a fan of fish sandwiches, but right now, I’m starving. Sarah stops fast and I nearly collide into the back of her.

“I have to meet Seth, and you’re coming with me.”

“Ew, no way. I don’t want to hear the details of your hookup.”

“He won’t, not with you there. But if he’s willing to ask me out with you standing there, looking all judgmental, then I know he likes me.”

I step back from her. “Ask you out? Sarah, he bad-mouthed you to the entire school.”