Haven (11 page)

“Hi. Sleep well?”

Just the sound of his voice made my knees weak. “Yep. Right through breakfast, actually.”

“Last night was great,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I had a great time too.” I was facing the wall, but I could feel everyone’s eyes on my back, watching me.

“About tonight, though . . .” He cleared his throat, and I could sense that he was uncomfortable. “I’m doing some work in the lab, and it’s gotten really complicated. It’s going to take me a lot longer than I thought, so I don’t think I can—”

“That’s okay,” I interrupted, trying to sound cheerful. “I really should be studying, anyway. I’ve still got so much to catch up on.” He was blowing me off, I realized. Already.

“Thanks for understanding, Violet. We’ll talk later, then, okay?”

“Sure. Okay. Bye.” I hit the end button and took a deep breath before I turned back to face my friends.

“Rat bastard,” Marissa said. “I knew it.”

“He says he’s got some work to do in the lab,” I offered lamely.

Sophie shook her head, her hazel eyes full of disbelief. “What kind of work? It’s Sunday.”

I just shrugged. I had no idea what kind of work he did in the lab. Kate had said it was some sort of medical research, but he’d never elaborated. Actually, now that I thought about it, there was an awful lot about Aidan that I still didn’t know.

The next week passed mostly in a blur. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I had a lot of catching up to do. Winterhaven’s academic expectations were high, even by prep school standards. Which was good, I guess—after all, the school’s graduates had a ridiculously high rate of academic and professional success. PhDs, CEOs, industry leaders, and successful politicians . . . they all came from Winterhaven. The amount of notable grads listed in the admissions brochure was mind-bogglingly impressive.

Of course, now I realized why—because once students graduated and were free from the constraints of the COPA, they could use their gifts to their advantage. It was amazing, really, that no one had ever been exposed for what they were.
I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of safeguard in place for that, something I didn’t yet understand. Regardless, a Winterhaven education was definitely a plus, and I spent pretty much all my free time trying to catch up.

I didn’t hear from Aidan—no more tutoring sessions— although I did see him twice a day in the classes we shared. It was mostly awkward, me going out of my way to avoid him, and him studying me intently from across the room, then disappearing as soon as the bells rang. I didn’t know what to think. I mean, we’d only had one date, so it’s not like I had a claim on him. On the other hand, it had been a good date—or so I had thought. He’d said all that stuff about me being a part of his past and his future, and I had taken that as a pretty good sign. Like us coming together was fate or something.

What had changed? I had all kinds of theories, of course, most of them involving another girl. As I was pondering the possibilities for the millionth time that day, Cece popped her head into the room. “Hey, are you coming with us to the café?” she asked brightly.

“No, I thought I’d go to the gym. My shoulder’s been hurting, and stretching really seems to help.”
Liar.
I shut down my computer, my homework done.

“C’mon, Violet. All you’ve done is mope around all week. Is he really worth it?”

Yeah, he was. And that was the problem. That, and I was totally pathetic. But I couldn’t say that. Instead I said, “I really do need to stretch.”

“Okay, whatever.” Clearly, she wasn’t buying it. “You sure you won’t come with us?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I picked up my bag and hiked it up on my shoulder. “But I’ll walk with you, okay?”

We made our way through the lounge in silence. Finally I spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a boarding school with a movie theater. Or a café. How come we can’t just go into the village to hang out, at least on weekends?”

“I think they decided it’s better if we don’t mix too much with the townies. They worry we’d get careless or something. So they made sure we have everything we need right here at Winterhaven. I like it this way—it’s more like a college campus or something.”

“I guess,” I said with a shrug. We passed the school store, which I now knew carried a wide assortment of clothes, shoes, and accessories in addition to school supplies and sweats with the school crest. There was a drugstore, too—rumor had it that they even carried condoms—but the bookstore was my favorite. It was as well-stocked as any major chain. Cece was right; there really wasn’t any need to leave campus.

We parted ways at the atrium’s exit, and I continued on
toward the gym. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky a deep purple with wide orange swaths. It was so pretty that I considered sitting down on a nearby bench to watch the sun melt into the horizon. Why not? The gym could wait.

So I sat.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I whirled around to look over my right shoulder, and there was Aidan, leaning against a tree. I just swallowed, unable to speak. My heart was pounding, as it always did when he snuck up on me.

“This is my favorite time of day. The Scots call it ‘the gloaming.’ I like that.”

“Sounds a lot better than ‘dusk,’ I guess,” I finally said, turning my attention back toward the sky. I could just make out the first twinkling star, directly above my head. I stood up and reached for my bag. “I should go.”

“Please don’t.” He was beside me now, reaching for my hand. “I want to apologize for ditching you like I did last weekend.”

I shrugged, pulling my hand from his grasp. “Really, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I know it sounds like an excuse, but I had some important work to do, and it couldn’t wait.”

I finally gathered the courage to look up at him, and my
breath caught. His eyes were more darkly shadowed than before, as if he was in desperate need of sleep. He looked terrible, actually.

“You look exhausted,” I said, my initial annoyance replaced with worry.

“I haven’t had much time for sleep,” he answered.

“What are you working on that’s more important than sleep?”

He just shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”

I decided to press the issue. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

Surprisingly enough, that made him smile. “A little of both, actually.”

I nodded, not quite sure what else to say.

“This is . . . it’s hard for me, Violet.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s complicated, and I’m not sure what to do. I just didn’t want you to think that I was blowing you off.”

That was exactly what I thought he was doing. “I should be more focused on school, anyway,” I said.

His eyes met mine, searching for something. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

“Why would you hurt me?”

“Because that’s what I do,” he said, his voice suddenly sharp. “But not this time, not if I can help it.”

What was he talking about?

“You’ve had the vision again, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice softer now.

Yeah, I had. Twice in the past week.

“Well?” he prodded.

“Well, nothing. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Besides, you said I shouldn’t worry. Stupid visions,” I muttered. They were nothing but a curse.

“Your visions are a part of you, Violet. They’re a gift.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to see awful things happen over and over again to people you—” I cut myself off, realizing what I was about to say.
People I care about.
Including Aidan? That was crazy, totally insane. We’d gone out
once
. He hadn’t even kissed me.

“Trust me, Violet, I have my own demons to slay.”

My hand went nervously to my throat, my fingers closing around something cold. The crucifix—Lupe’s gift.

“What’s that?” Aidan asked.

“What? This?” I fingered the cross, laying it against my shirt. “It’s just a necklace.”

“Are you Catholic?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Would it matter if I was?”

“I guess not,” he finally said.

“Someone sent it to me as a gift,” I said, clasping it protectively in my hand.

“Well, that someone is smarter than you think,” he said with a low chuckle. “Not that it’ll do much good, but it’s a nice gesture, anyway.” He reached for my hand, and I let him take it. “Do you want to go to the café and get some coffee or something?”

I
did
want to. But I’d just blown off my friends, insisting I needed to go to the gym and work out. How lame would it be to show up now with Aidan in tow, especially after the conversation I’d just had with Cece? Talk about humiliating.

An inner battle waged inside me—my pride versus my desire to spend time with Aidan. Ultimately, Aidan won out.

“Do you mind if we meet up with my friends there?” I asked, trying to see it as a compromise. “They were all headed over.”

“Of course not,” he said.

If they were surprised to see Aidan and me walk into the café together, my friends did a good job of hiding it. We joined them, pushing two tables together after buying some caramel mocha lattes and chocolate-chip cookies. Amazingly enough, it felt perfectly natural there, wedged between Cece and Aidan, holding his hand beneath the table.

A little more than an hour and two lattes later, everyone began to drift away. Sophie left to study, Jack and Kate went off together, and Cece and Marissa headed back toward the
dorms. Aidan and I made our way back outside and plopped down beneath the drooping branches of an old oak, as far away from prying eyes as possible.

“It’s nice out,” he said, his legs stretched out toward me. A street lamp beside the sidewalk cast an oblong patch of light on the grass where we sat, making his hair look like gold.

“Yeah, it feels good out here,” I said. The café had been hot and crowded. I still felt flushed all over.

He nodded. Above us, the light flickered, then went out, leaving us in total darkness.

I let out my breath in a rush. “Did you do that?”

“Do you want it on?” With a hiss, it popped back on.

I rubbed my eyes, seeing spots now. “No, it’s okay.”

Out it went again. You’d think I’d be used to such things by now, but it still gave me chills.

“So,” I asked, figuring I might as well get it all out in the open. “What else can you do? I mean, besides read minds—”

“Not yours, not anymore,” he interrupted, and I smiled in self-satisfaction. I’d gotten really good at blocking my thoughts. I did it automatically now, whenever I was with him.

“Let’s see . . . you can speak telepathically,” I continued, finally getting the lingo down, “and turn lights on and off. Does that make you telekinetic, too?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”

“Oh, wait,” I said, leaning toward him, trying to make out his face in the darkness. “I forgot the thing where you manipulate feelings.”

“I promised not to do that anymore, remember?”

“And I’m supposed to trust you on that?” I asked, only half-kidding.

“You can trust me, Violet.” His voice was silky smooth. Seductive.

“Then why won’t you tell me what you were doing all week? Why the secrets?”

“Because I can’t tell you.” He took my hand and drew me closer.

“And that’s all you’re going to say about it?” I pressed, scooting a few inches closer, drawn to him like a bee to honey. I could feel his breath on my neck, and I shivered.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he teased, his lips moving toward my throat. I knew he was kidding, but there was an edge to his voice—something hard, almost angry.

“That’s not funny,” I said on a sigh, willing his mouth closer.

With a groan, his lips retreated. “Trust me, I know.”

Disappointment washed over me. Suddenly cold, I pulled up my knees and wrapped my arms around them, studying Aidan’s face—in focus, now that my eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness.

“What do you do when you’re not in class?” I asked. “I never see you around campus.”

“I told you, I work in the chem lab,” he answered.

“Yeah, I know. But I meant, like, for fun.”

“Well, to me, the work I do in the lab
is
fun. Challenging. I read a lot too.”

“Yeah?” Well, that was one thing we had in common, then. “What do you read?”

“Classics, mostly. Some fantasy and science fiction.” He reached for my hand. “Anything else you want to know?”

“What were you like as a kid?” I asked. It was hard to imagine Aidan as a kid. He seemed mature beyond his years, I guess you could say. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, but there was none of that insecurity in Aidan, that awkward self-consciousness that most guys our age seemed to suffer from. He seemed pretty comfortable in his own skin.

I heard him laugh—a low, soft rumble. “Me, as a child? I can barely remember, it was so long ago.”

“It wasn’t
that
long ago. When’s your birthday, by the way?”

“October ninth. You just missed it. When’s yours?”

“March twenty-seventh,” I answered. “I won’t be seventeen till spring.”

He nodded. “Anyway, to answer your question, I was arrogant
and spoiled. Used to getting my own way. You wouldn’t have liked me very much.”

“And what about dreams, aspirations? I guess you want to be a scientist or something?” Considering he liked to work in the chem lab.
For fun.

“I don’t think about the future,” he said, his voice sharp. He glanced off at the horizon, and then I saw him take a deep breath before he turned back to face me again, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay.” I gave his hand a squeeze.

“It’s not okay,” he argued. “I . . . you must excuse me. I’m not used to . . . I mean, this isn’t something I’m in the habit of doing.”

“What, talking?” I asked with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Our eyes met, our gazes locked—literally. I couldn’t look away, no matter what.

A tiny burst of light caught my peripheral vision, and I looked up, beyond the treetops. A shooting star. I scrambled to my feet, and he rose to stand beside me. “Did you see that?” I asked.