A Soul's Kiss (10 page)

Tyler

Friday evening

Crap. It was just a dream. Man, if only it wasn’t.

Then I heard the whispers.

Maybe I was still dreaming. I kept my eyes pinched shut and listened.

Rashanda’s voice: “I can still see and hear you.”

Jessica’s voice: “Good. This is easier than getting in your head. I feel sort of like an intruder there.”

A sniff from Rashanda: “You’re like a mind reader. Or the opposite. You put thoughts into people’s heads. That kiss with Tyler was amazing.”

Wait! What? Crap. It was all I could do to keep still. Jessica had been with me? In my head? It wasn’t a dream?

“Shh,” Jessica hissed, “don’t wake him.”

“Maybe we should, you know, wake him slowly and see if he can see and hear you.”

“Why? What’s the point? I’d be so embarrassed, anyway. And what if we lose this connection and I disappear?”

Embarrassed? Why? I could hear her, though, and if I could hear her then maybe I could see her, too. I risked a sliver of space between the lids of my left eye. So hard not to tremble, so hard to keep the upper lid from shuddering.

I saw her. Not exactly solid, but not transparent either.

Unbelievable. I was afraid she’d disappear, too, but I couldn’t take my eye off her. I let my right eye relax into the same millimeter slit and studied her. Shapeless in that stupid hospital gown. Hair messy but framing that pretty face. Army green no-skid socks. Soft, soft voice. Head tipping away from me as she considered what Rashanda said next:

“We should try, Jessica, because maybe the more people who can see you, the stronger you’ll get, and you can get back into your body.”

“I agree.” I sat up slowly, kept my eyes on hers, and watched her expression change from surprise to shock. Her cheeks blushed and so did mine.

“You can see her?” Rashanda spoke in a normal voice.

I still held Jessica’s gaze. “Yup.” I reached my hand out. “Hi, Jessica.” But she pulled back.

“I better not touch you. You don’t want me in your head, do you? I mean, it’s not like demon-possession, but, well . . .”

“It’s okay.” I dropped my hand, disappointed. “So, uh, what do we do? How do we make you strong enough to get you back into your body?”

Her cute little shoulders shrugged. I forgot that Rashanda was next to me. She elbowed me, hard, and said, “Tyler, get a grip. We have to do some research.”

“I saw Keith at school this morning. He brought me here,” Jessica said as she darted her eyes between us.

“I know,” I said. “He told me.”

“But I don’t know how he keeps getting back into his body. Maybe it’s the drugs in the IV line.” She shrugged her shoulders again, a quick little jerk. It made me smile.

“Prayer,” Rashanda said. I nodded in agreement though I rarely prayed. I kept my focus on Jessica.

Someone knocked on the door and Jessica looked over her shoulder as nonchalantly as if she were flesh and bones. I tensed, but maintained my focus, even when Rashanda gasped and exclaimed that Jessica was gone. She rose to open the door, stepping on those green toes without a thought. Crap. I pushed her off Jessica. I was probably too rough.

“It’s okay. I didn’t feel anything. She lost me, I guess,” Jessica said, giving me an unreadable smile.

Rashanda’s hand was on the door and she stopped short of swinging it wide as someone on the other side made a weak apology and left. “Why did you push me?” Rashanda growled back at me. “Oh, my gosh, you can still see her, can’t you?”

Jessica

Friday night

It’s more intense than I can take. I look away from Tyler, try not to think of that kiss, and stand up. Rashanda is blocking the door and I really want to leave.

All it takes is a thought, I guess. But why my escaping thought is to come here I totally don’t know.

I’m alone. The room is dark, naturally, but there are security lights on outside the building that give enough ambient light through the windows for me to read the bulletin board. English class. I’m in my seat at the back of the room. Quiet. Eerie.

It’s a good place to think. Several things are clear to me: only certain people can see and hear me and only once in a while; I can enter people’s heads when they’re in a dream-like state; I can travel distances in a blink of an eye. There are other things to think about too, like is this going to be permanent? Am I going to die? Am I going to be a vegetable?

If I get to choose, then I’ll pick vegetable as long as I can exist like this, floating outside of my body. I swallow the lump in my throat, try not to be scared, and make a decision: I will make the best of things. My mission will be to make people happy. That sounds pretty unselfish. Maybe I got that from being in Rashanda’s head and feeling her generous forgiveness. Yes, this is a good plan. This is my version of “hanging in there.” Maybe I can make Michael and Keith and Hannah feel my forgiveness in case they’re blaming themselves.

Rashanda

Friday night

The way Tyler’s face dropped when Jessica disappeared on him tugged at my heart—in a bad way. I told him I’d see him later, grabbed my purse, and rushed out of there. He probably thought I was crazy. I thought I was crazy. My mind was so messed up.

I phoned my mom as I headed to the recovery area. She was being awfully understanding about me spending so much time there, but she had her limits, and I knew I’d better check in and probably head home soon. Either drive Jessica’s car or have my mom pick me up. I needed to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell about that though I was sure they wouldn’t care. What I really wanted to do was tell them that Jessica was fine. Of course, that depended on your definition of “fine”.
Hey, your daughter is just fine, floating around, making new friends, and kissing guys.

That’s what was really bothering me. That kiss. I felt like it was my kiss. I’d always liked Tyler, but I never considered him for a second because I thought he was as focused on Jessica as, well, like Edward on Bella or Romeo on Juliet or . . . Jessica on Michael.

But that kiss . . . wow. That could change a girl’s mind.

I found the Mitchells and they seemed happy and upbeat and positive that Jessica was going to come out of the coma soon. They hugged me and told me to take the car home, not to worry, and not to think I had to spend all day Saturday at the hospital. I thought maybe they were hinting that they didn’t want me to come, but Mrs. Mitchell added that she was sure Jessica appreciated my presence, that she could feel it somehow. Boy, she got that right. Jessica was feeling a lot of stuff and knew everything that was going on.

I drove home wondering if she’d pop into the seat next to me again since I was thinking about her so much. I even said her name aloud a couple of times to test that, but no Jessica. Maybe she’d come to me as I drifted off to sleep.

There was a lot of traffic near the high school. Game night. It was a nice evening for it, crisp and clear. Jessica would have gone with me to the game and then to the cider mill. We would have planned out a better synchronized swimming routine even if the one she gave me Thursday had worked out. I thought about the paper she had pressed into my hands with the kip and ballet legs and stupid Gaviota marked under each bar of the music she’d chosen. I pulled into my driveway, parked the car, and began to cry. I didn’t know where that paper was. She was absurdly happy and alive when she gave it to me. Life was so fragile.

Life was so complicated. I wasn’t sure if I was crying because I was afraid that Jessica was going to die or if I was jealous because of that kiss or if I was stressed out from lack of sleep and food. And I had a mountain of homework to catch up on. My stomach was growling and that usually meant I was going to have an unpleasant episode of diarrhea and pain, but this time it was a good kind of growling: just hungry.

“Jessica?” I said it out loud in case she was around. For sure she wasn’t in my head. “Jessica, we need to talk. I think I’m feeling something for Tyler. You need to decide between him and Michael.” There. I felt a little better even if she wasn’t invisibly close by. I wiped my eyes.

Jessica

Friday night, late

Suddenly I want to know more about that accident. Maybe it
was
my fault.

Where did it take place? A mile from school?

I glance at the clock above the bulletin board. Nine-thirty. How did it get to be so late? Is time different for me?

Headlights draw lines across the ceiling. A steady stream of cars turn left from the sports field parking lot across the street. The football game. I wonder who has taken Michael’s place as drum major. Or maybe he was allowed to attend the game. He hadn’t seemed hurt—just shook up about my condition. I smile to myself, remembering his words of sympathy and concern. I think about how I’d touched those lips, but the memory of Tyler’s dream kiss rushes back and pounds down those thoughts. I shiver. Kind of amazing that I can shiver.

Another thought: does my shivering mean anything physical? I check my gown for blood. Even in the dim light I can tell that it’s fine.

Again I shiver. I notice, too, a dull ache in my head. Around my eye where I’d been whacked by that kid in the senior hallway. Boy, that seems so long ago. Michael helped me up, Hannah and Keith joined us and we went to the parking lot. I remember!

It’s clear now. I had kept my head down, staring at the book in my lap, but Hannah was next to me. I leaned toward her as Keith turned the car too sharply when we left the parking lot. I remember the squeal of the tires as he took that turn. There were a couple of times he swerved, maybe passed another car, before the accident. Keith’s driving was, well, like he was playing a video game. And over the speed limit.

I remember a catch in my throat as I sensed Michael’s whole body shifting in the front seat to look back at me. Or maybe he was looking at Hannah. And then the horns. The crash. The first time I left my body.

I want to see the place where the accident happened. Where I had first been like this.

Instantly I’m gone from the classroom and standing at the side of the road, but I have no way of knowing if this is the intersection or not. It’s dark. I walk another block and see a few cars pulling off onto the shoulder. Kids get out of cars and put flowers at the side of the road, then drive on. That solid line of cars leaving the football game slows down here. This has to be it. There are quite a few stuffed animals piling up. A shrine. It makes me sick to see the pieces of metal and glass mixed with the gravel.

Another car pulls over and I recognize Brittany, one of the senior girls who thinks she’s better than everyone else. There’s another girl in the passenger seat.

Hannah.

I want to be in the back seat of that car before it leaves.