Brightest Kind of Darkness (14 page)

A prickly feeling started on the back of my neck, an inkling of something I didn’t want to consider. “What are you saying?”

“You get involved in other people’s lives. That’s dangerous. I don’t think you should interfere.”

Don’t interfere
.

The words from my radio echoed in my head. Over and over. A shiver passed through me and I stilled.

“Do you understand what I’m staying?” he asked.

Could Ethan have been the one warning me all those times? He’d never said he had other powers, but he hadn’t told me everything about his past last night, and he definitely didn’t want me to use my powers for other people. My mind spun. He’d also called me on my cell right before I was going to help Jody. He’d been in a chatty mood, too. Why
that
day? Why
then
?

“I—I’ve got class.” Doubt and the timing of Ethan’s appearance in my life pushed my foot back another step. As I bumped into a guy passing by, a sick feeling slowly spread through my stomach.

“Nara, what’s wrong—” Frowning, Ethan reached for me, but I pulled back.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said and took off down the hall.

The bell rang as I stumbled into the bathroom. I barely made it into the stall before I lost my breakfast. As another round of nausea roared through me, and I leaned over the toilet, puking my guts up, my whole body began to shake. Had Ethan gotten close to me for another reason? Did he take my dreams on purpose to make sure I didn’t use my powers to help others? If I didn’t know the future, then I couldn’t get involved, could I? Is that why he never starred in my dreams, because he was here to stop me? Aunt Sage had said he was an “old soul” and his “power was off the charts”. What did that mean? Question after question ricocheted through my mind. Questions I didn’t have the answers to.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hot tears slid down my cheeks as I leaned against the metal stall. If any of that was true, I should fear Ethan, but fear wasn’t what made me tremble all over. It was deep sadness and regret. He’d burrowed into my heart, knew me better than anyone. My entire world felt as if it was collapsing into a dark black hole.

The rest of the day I stayed away from my locker and took different halls than I usually would’ve to avoid running into Ethan. When I came out of the library after study hall, he was waiting for me.

“Talk to me,” he said, falling into step beside me. He looked upset, but I wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t try to stop me anymore.” I glanced away. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Scared of me—what?”

I sped up my pace, my heart pounding. “Just don’t.”

“Nara!” he called after me as I practically ran down the hall, tears burning in my eyes.

I was both relieved and sad when I didn’t see Ethan at the end of the day. As I spun my locker combination, a part of me hoped he’d show up even though I’d blown him off earlier. I sighed and opened my locker. A piece of folded paper sat on top of my books. Someone must’ve slipped it through one of the slots at the top of my locker door. Tension knotted my shoulders as I unfolded the note.

Nara,

I’m sorry I upset you. The look on your face…it was what I was worried I’d see when I told you the truth about me. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I would never do anything to hurt you or scare you. I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you. Please talk to me.

Ethan

I read Ethan’s note several more times that day, and as I lay in bed that night, uncertainty twinged and tears threatened. Was I wrong about him? Had I somehow twisted his comments and actions to coincide with the odd happenings that had been bombarding me since I’d first called in the bomb threat? I wanted to believe in him, but doubts and too many coincidences plagued me.

* * *

I managed to avoid Ethan the entire next day, but by the time the day was over and I was heading home after practice, I knew one absolute truth—I was completely and utterly miserable. I wasn’t miserable because I’d failed a pop quiz or because someone had tried to pull another prank on me. I wasn’t miserable because I’d performed horribly at soccer practice or because I was sure to burn dinner tonight—okay, none of the other stuff
had
happened, and there was a fifty-fifty chance I
would
burn dinner now that my dreams were gone. Bleh. Like mother, like daughter. At least my odds were better.

I was miserable, because I missed Ethan.

Desperately.

I missed our conversations and the way we connected on many subjects. I missed the closeness I felt to him, like we were in our own intimate world. The last thing I wanted to do was go home to an empty house and wallow in my misery.

I’d just turned down my street, when my cell phone trilled. I quickly answered it, thinking it might Ethan. “Hello?”

“Inara, my secretary just put through a call from Westminster.” Mom sounded tense. My heart pounded and I slowed my car as I neared our house. I was afraid to ask, but I had to. “What’s wrong with Gran?”

“She’s missing. They called to find out if I knew where she might go.”

Turning into the driveway, I started to push the garage door button, when I saw my bone-thin grand aunt squatting near our bushes in her black “fancy coat” (or so she’d call it). Wearing a look of deep concentration, she dumped a trowel-full of soil into a bucket beside her, then swirled the soil with her fingers. Relieved she was safe, I cut the engine. “Um, she’s at our house. Digging.”

“Thank God!” Mom heaved a sigh. “Did you say, ‘digging’?”

“Yeah, with a trowel.”

“That’s random. Does she look okay?”

“She looks fine, but she hasn’t noticed I’m here yet.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. I’ll call Westminster and tell them—”

“That I’ll drop her off tomorrow morning before school,” I insisted. Gran
never
left the retirement home. She was here for a reason. Not to mention, if she stayed, Mom couldn’t avoid visiting with her. Win-win.

“I meant to tell you I have a dinner meeting. It’ll be after ten before I get home,” Mom said. “Think you’ll be okay with Gran by yourself?”

How convenient, Mom
. “Yeah, we’re good. I’d better go stop Gran before she digs up our bushes.”

I walked up our sidewalk and when I shifted my soccer bag and backpack to my other shoulder, Gran finally noticed me. “Hi, Inara!”

“Hey, Gran. What are you doing?”

“You know all this already,” she said matter-of-factly, going back to her digging.

I hadn’t told her I’d lost my dreams to Ethan. “Remind me. Sometimes I’m fuzzy on the details.”

She held up a handful of dirt full of squirming earthworms. “Clara says I need real worms in my plants.” Dropping the dirt and worms into her bucket, she gave a grunt of satisfaction. “I’m gonna prove her wrong. Plants like sugar just as much as the rest of us. It’s ‘cause I don’t get morning sunlight on my side of the building. That’s what’s killing my plants.”

I glanced at the bucket, half-full with dirt and worms. “Westminster doesn’t have dirt?”

Gran gave me an “are you nuts?” look. “Of course, they do!” Snapping a lid sporting air holes onto the bucket, she slowly stood, then brushed the dirt off her gnarled hands. “I was just biding my time until you got home. It’s not like I have a key, you know.”

“Why’d you come for a visit?”

Pulling a wad of used bingo sheets from her coat pocket, Gran’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. “I need your help.”

* * *

“I’m not going to help you cheat, Gran.” I stood in the kitchen after my shower, watching her scuttle around, looking behind canisters and opening cabinets.

Yanking open the fridge, she leaned across the door, then pointed to the ten bingo sheets I’d spread out on the island. “It’s not cheating. I won
all
those games.” Huffing her frustration, she continued as she scanned the inside of the fridge, “Clara just called out bingo before I did.”

“Gran…”

Holding up a bottle of soda, she said, “Here’s the first part. Now where’s the rum.” An image of Gran, in her pink cardigan, crisp white shirt, khaki pants and orthopedic shoes, swilling back alcoholic drinks just didn’t compute. Also, Mom would kill me if I let Gran get drunk. “Mom doesn’t drink. Now, back to your problem...”

“She doesn’t drink?” Gray eyebrows shot up. “Ever? What kind of a daughter did my sister raise?”

I grabbed up the sheets and waved them. “Gran, Bingo? The reason you’re here?”

Setting the 2-liter on the island, Gran started to speak when the doorbell rang.

Since when did my house suddenly become Grand Central?
Sighing, I walked over to the front door and opened it.

“Hey, Nara!” Lainey said, holding a small bucket of…ice?

I was so surprised to see her, I simply said, “Um, hi. What’s up?”

“I thought we could use some girl time.” Shoving the bucket of ice into my hands, Lainey stepped inside, the latest chic cologne clinging to her zip-up sweater and skinny jeans. Noticing my Gran standing in the kitchen, she smiled and waved. “Hi, I’m Lainey, Nara’s best friend.”

Oh, really? You remembered?
“This is my Gran,” I said, gesturing to Gran as I walked into the kitchen. Though I was curious what made Lainey show up here—with a bucket of ice, of all things—I was more concerned with getting rid of the bingo cards. The last thing I wanted was for Gran to start talking about them again and accidentally reveal my secret to Lainey.

Setting the bucket of ice down, I quickly gathered up the cards and shoved them in a drawer in the island. “What kind of ‘girl time’ did you have in mind?”

“Did you bring any rum?” Gran asked Lainey, her gaze glued to the ice bucket.

Lainey laughed, holding up something silver. “No, but I brought a needle.”

My eyes widened when I realized what the ice and needle were for. “Oh no! No way,” I said backing up, hands raised.

Lainey was already shaking her head as she pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol from her purse. “You chickened out getting your ears pierced three different times at the mall, Nara. Now, it’ll just be you, me, ice and a needle.”

She planned to stick a needle in my ear lobe? And that I’d
let
her do it? “Thanks for the thought, Lainey, but—”

“I’ve always wanted to have pierced ears,” Gran said, wistfully.

I shot her a “you’re not helping” look.

“Stop being such a wuss, Nara.” Lainey’s disapproving expression brightened. “I even brought stainless steel earrings. I picked out a pair of 5 mm balls for you, since they go with everything. Those ears of yours will be pierced in no time!”

I shook my head in fast jerks.

“Come on, Nara. It’ll be a great bonding experience,” she begged, which made me wonder again, what had made her want to rekindle our friendship.

“I don’t see why you’re putting up such a fuss, Nara,” Gran said in a no-nonsense tone. “You already know if you get it done or not—”

“Okaaaaaaaay, I’ll do it!” I said loudly. I really didn’t need Gran spilling the beans to Lainey.

“Yey!” Lainey did a little hop, then grabbed her purse and “instruments of torture” and made a bee-line for the hall bathroom.

Gran tottered after Lainey, saying excitedly, “I want to do an ear!”

“Grab some paper towels.” Lainey called from the hallway right before Gran disappeared into the bathroom behind her.

I started to reach for the roll, when I heard her finish, “They soak up the blood better than tissue.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this craziness,” I muttered, whisking the roll off the holder.

When I was six, I fell out of a tree and broke my left arm. In ninth grade, I sprained my right ankle playing soccer (even knowing ahead of time, it’s hard to avoid an injury
and
remain focused on the game.). I saw stars both times. Truly. So when I say the idea of Lainey and Gran wearing maniacal grins and wielding ice and needles scared me far more than those two past experiences ever did, I’m
not
kidding.

My left ear, actually the entire left side of my face, from my cheek to my ear, was numb from the ice Lainey had applied for a good fifteen minutes. Still, my insides jerked as she closed in with that needle. At the last second, I pulled back. “Are you sure I won’t feel it?”

Lainey rolled her eyes, then held the needle away and reached past my cheek with her free hand. “Did you feel that?”

“No, what’d you do?”

“I pinched your earlobe as hard as I could. You’re ready,” she said, coming at me with the needle again.

Grabbing her wrist, I glanced up at her. “This is a true test of friendship. I wouldn’t trust just
anyone
to poke a hole in my head.”

A faint smile tilted her lips, then she frowned in concentration. “Now be quiet and hold still”

I closed my eyes and held my breath as I felt a slight prick.

Her warm fingers brushed against my cold cheek and five seconds later, she announced, “All done!”

“Really?” I swiveled on the wooden stool and glanced at my left ear in the mirror. It was red from the ice, but now a stainless steel ball the size of BB decorated my earlobe (thankfully in the center!). “I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Told you.” Lainey looked proud.

As I held ice on my right earlobe, I was surprised Gran had been so quiet. Maybe she’d decided to just watch.

“My turn!” Gran said, elbowing Lainey aside.

Grabbing up the needle, Gran turned to dip it in the alcohol we’d poured into the lid, but the needle dropped in the lid instead. She tried to fish it out, but the needle spun around like a confused compass. “Come here, you little pissant,” she mumbled, digging her fingers into the alcohol.

My gaze jerked to Lainey, pleading,
Help me, please!

She lifted her hands helplessly and mouthed, “What can I do?”

“Got it!” Gran bent toward me, her gnarled fingers clasping the needle at a strange angle. When her hand began to shake as she drew near and the needle between her fingers shifted even more, I panicked and blurted, “I just remembered where we have some rum!”

Gran immediately straightened, a marionette yanked upright by rum’s sweet lure. The needle slipped from her fingers. “Where?” she asked with bright eyes.