Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (9 page)

I nod like I understand, but this is obviously beyond my realm of comprehension.

“Finally, my arm started bleeding, but I didn't die. I passed out, woke up, and I was still alive—or so I thought.” Myles balls his fist under my palm. “No more than a few hours could have passed, but when I woke up, there was blood everywhere except my arms. There weren’t any marks at all.”

He untwists our hands to inspect his left wrist, like telling the story has raised the scars from the grave. He lowers his arm finally, placing it palm down on the comforter between us.
“It's not the memory that's bothering me,” he says quietly. “It's what I felt.”

“
Well, yeah.” I have to stabilize my voice before I can go on. “You were scared. The dream probably scared you.”

“
It's not even that.” Myles glances at me, to the TV, then back to me. “Even if I hated what I was for the longest time, I never—not once—wished for death. I didn't think I was capable of feeling that way.”

We’re both quiet. He can’t say anything more about it because what use would it be, an immortal talking about killing himself? I don’t say anything because I can’t come up with any words that would make it feel better or hurt less.

I may not have words, but I have him, and he has me. I wrap my arm around Myles, using my free hand to cradle the arm he hasn’t looked away from since the conversation started.

And I can see them: a bunch of white, jagged, angry lines near the base of his hand, one long, desperate indent carved diagonally from wrist to elbow. They're barely visible, but I see them. I trace the long line slowly, then the other shorter ones.

“That's impossible,” he whispers.

I jump at his voice.

“You can see them?” he asks.

“
I'm not supposed to be able to see them?”

Myles shrugs when I look up at him, obviously not as confused as I am.
 ”It could be something left over from when we exchanged blood,” he says. “Maybe you can sense certain things about me now.” He turns his head to the side like a thought's just occurred to him. “Scars are something you're already sensitive about. . .so maybe it isn't so crazy that you can now see mine.”

Great. Just what I needed to graduate Normal Academy. But I give Myles a small smile anyway.

He smiles back. “Thank you for letting me share that with you. I feel a lot better.”

“
You don't have to thank me, Myles.” I'm guessing he doesn't share things like this very often by the look on his face.

“
Can we. . .lie back down now? I'm tired.” He almost sounds surprised.

Scooting over, I replace my head on the pillow and he follows suit, taking one from the floor near him.

“That’s what telling secrets does to you,” I try to joke, and thankfully, he laughs a little when we’re both on our sides facing each other.

“
Do you want me to put my shirt back on?” he asks after a moment.

I honestly hadn’t thought about it since he took it off.
“It’s not bothering me.”

He smiles again as his eyes begin to close. I’m not far behind him.

My hand finds Myles’ and guides it over the blanket where the forest of scars lies on my leg beneath. My fingers rest on his own dark, secret parts. I stare at the ceiling of the fort, it’s patchwork of plain white sheets and tie dyed swirls. The light from the TV glints on the safety pins holding them together. Just before I let sleep take me away for the night, I trace a star on Myles’ wrist with my index finger, and he does the same over the blanket.

New Friends

Chapter 4

“
Everybody I know has got fangs.”—He is Legend

I manage to sleep the whole night through without having a single nightmare or memory—mine or someone else’s. I don’t have to be anywhere until twelve, but I wake up early, not even tired. Myles, once his shirt is back on, helps me take down the fort and fold up blankets. I want to do nothing more than just hang out with him today, but that’s not an option. Boo and Trei are counting on me to practice with them, then I have to meet Honus for rehearsing their songs with them, and then I’m working at Midnight until one AM again. It’s going to be a long day, but one filled with music, so it can’t be half-bad.

So Boo, Trei, and I go through the Radiohead covers we decided on over a week ago, but can’t quite grasp playing. Well, I know my parts as if they were ingrained in the backs of my eyelids. It’s Boo and Trei that can’t follow me. It’s not like I can get mad at them for it. They know how to read music and I don’t. It’s like they’re speaking English and I’m speaking in some strange dead language that few people even learn anymore.

But.
We get a rough skeleton of what we want for each song, and that takes long enough. We part ways, agreeing that a break would be a really amazing idea for tomorrow even if it might come back to bite us in the ass.

As I’m leaving our practice room to go to Honus’, Jamie stops me. Boo and Trei are still hanging out in the hallway when they left before me, and they’re smiling.

“What?” I ask.

“
We just got paid,” Trei says.

“
Already?” I ask Jamie.

He pushes his useless glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He
produces a white envelope. “Congratulations.”

My finger is just under the flap when Boo says,
“It’s a lot.”

I glance back up, Trei nods.

I’ve gotten many checks in my life. I worked since I was old enough because I always thought it was important to earn my own money and not mooch off of my parents. But I’ve never seen a number like this on any of my checks. “Five hundred dollars?”

“
Each.” Jamie doesn’t even try to conceal his bitter tone.

“
Isn’t it awesome?” Boo says.

“
Uh,” is all that leaves my mouth.

“
Well,” Trei says, not seeming to notice the way my jaw has become agape and my motor functions have ceased to work. “We have to get going.”

They’re just going to leave when this is going on?
“Uh,” I repeat.

“
We’ll call you when we’re back from our dad’s?” Boo asks.

I nod, almost unaware that he’s asked a question.

I hear their footsteps climb the stairs, but I don’t snap out of it until Jamie speaks again.

“
What’s your schedule looking like for today?” he asks.

“
Uh,” I say. I fold up the piece of paper with the ridiculous amount of money on in and slip it into my messenger bag. “I’m off to rehearse with Honus now, then I’m free for a little bit before I have to be at the club. Why?”

“
Evan wanted to see you.”

“
Oh?” I ask. “Is it about a typo on our checks?” I try to joke to diffuse the stank face he’s doing a horrible job at hiding.

He shrugs.
“I was just told to make an appointment for you with him. How about seven?”

I check the time on my phone. Four thirty.
“Sure.” I try to sound casual. “I have to be at the club by seven thirty anyway.”

Jamie’s all business.
“Do you know where his office is?”

“
Vaguely,” I admit. I’ve never been there before, but I’ve heard of it. “Somewhere near the dressing rooms, right?

My reflection bounces off of his black frames.
“You’ll be able to find it.”

“
Okay. Well,” I say awkwardly. “Thanks.”

“
No problem.” Jamie begins to head back to the stairs and I turn to head further down the hall to practice space number five, where Honus told me they’d be meeting at four fifteen.

Manny’s already poking his head out of the room when I turn the corner.
“I was beginning to think you stood us up.” He opens to door for me all the way and I step inside.

“
Sorry.”

Everyone’s already got instruments in hand by the time I’m sitting down at the piano. I think for a fleeting second that maybe I could ask them about the whole check situation—if it’s normal to get so much after the first show—but I decide against it. Judging Jamie’s less than excited reaction, I’m guessing not, and I don’t want to bug out my new friends’ eyeballs. I let the music float over me, sinking into it and forgetting about the check completely.

I get to Midnight early for my
“appointment” with Evan. Kelly and Dana, a duo that play electronic music, are on stage sound checking, speaking into the microphone to tell the engineer “higher” or “lower” after strumming, or testing out how loud their voices sound in the mics. They wave to me as I make my way backstage to the dressing rooms and Evan’s office. I don’t know Kelly and Dana too well, but if you sell someone’s T-shirts and CDs, I guess the least you can do is act like you know them when you see them.

Evan’s office is at the very end of the long hall of dressing rooms.
I knock three times, aware of how far away from the stage I am by how the sound check slowly becomes muffled and then entirely absent.

“Come in,” I hear Evan say from within.

I twist the golden doorknob and step inside, letting the door shut gently behind me. The room is small, but large enough to have three bookcases and a good sized desk, which Evan is sitting behind, hunched over and concentrating on some paperwork he has spread out in front of him. He looks up at
me when I take a step forward.

“
Hello, Sophie,” he says. “It is good to see you.” His tone is light, with a hint of an accent I can’t place in it. “Please,” he gestures to the very comfortable looking, brown leather sofa  in front of  the desk.

I shrug off my trench before sitting down.

“How are you?” I ask, not sure of what else I’m supposed to say.

Evan ‘s eyes are on the papers in front of him. I notice there are three picture frames on the desk, but they’re not facing me, so I can
’t see who’s in them.

“
I am alright,” he says after a minute.  ”And you? Are you settling in?”

“
Yeah.” I open my bag, already anxious to get this whole money situation squared away. “It’s really awesome here. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity.”

Evan looks up now, smiling politely.
“That is good to hear.”

Before any more small talk can be made, I say,
“I did have a question though.”

“
About what?” He sets whatever he’s been working on aside and folds his hands on the dark oak desk in front of him.

I take the folded check out of my bag.
“When we agreed to play here, Myles told us that we’d be paid, and that we got free room and board.”

He blinks a few times.
“That is correct.”

“
Well, here’s the thing,” I say, unfolding the paper in my lap. “We only played five songs on opening night. I think this is wrong.” I hold my check out to him, but he doesn’t move to take it. He doesn’t even unclasp his hands.

Evan just
stares, his eyes glued to the side of my head. Suddenly, like he’s just remembered I’m in the room, he says, “You think it is not enough?”

“
No.” I almost laugh. I let the check fall to his desk, giving it a little push so maybe he’ll look at the numbers written there. “I think it’s too much,” I say.  ”Way too much.”

Evan doesn’t so glance at
the paper between us. He only looks at me. “You each received five hundred dollars for showcase night,” he says. “Yes?”

I nod.

“That is what everyone decided.”

I have to fight the urge to draw my eyebrows together.
“Who is everyone?”

“
Me, Myles, Jamie.” He shrugs, but it looks like it’s more for my benefit, to tell me this is no big deal. But it is.

“
Jamie didn’t seem too happy about it,” I say without thinking.

Evan cocks his head to the side like he finds it amusing.
“He was out-voted.”

I pause for a second to take all of this in, then I ask,
“Why does Myles get to decide too?”

“
He is part owner,” he says simply.

I decide on keeping up with the conversation rather than getting immediately fixated on this information. I’ll save that for later.

“Look, I don’t want any special treatment because Myles is my boyfriend,” I say.

“
It is not special treatment.” He smiles a little. “Actually, Myles thought your band deserved more.”

I take a deep breath.

“I know this is probably new to you,” he says. “But trust me, that money was earned.”

I don’t know what else to say, so I keep quiet.

“Now for the reason why I wanted to see you.” Evan says, deeming our conversation over. He stands and slowly walks around to the front of the desk and leans against it. “I have a favor to ask you.”