Soul Crossed, page 9
“He…he knows I only like him as a friend.” My voice cracks. There is no certainty behind my words. This could complicate things.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” he says. He softens, and I see pain behind his azure eyes. I touch his hand because I cannot stand to be apart from him a moment longer. The familiar spark is there, and it is like a drug. I cannot get enough.
He entwines his fingers in my own, and I lean my head against his shoulder. I don’t know what I’ll do when my assignment is finished. I don’t know how I can ever bear to leave.
Chapter 31
Josh
I’ve hung out with them all week long. I’ve watched every miniscule move she makes. I’ve noticed every little thing about her. How she bites the ends of her hair when she’s nervous. How she dumps salt all over her fries. How she can’t help but move her body when a good song comes on the radio. I’m not even sure she knows these things about herself. All the things that make her Grace.
I can see I’ve made her nervous by pointing out how she’s torturing Cam. I really believe she didn’t know what she was doing. She’s actually making my job easier. It’s a tale as old as time. The dorky kid spurned by the hot girl who leads him on for her own twisted amusement. It would be easy to make him believe it after she breaks his heart. And all I’d have to do is bide my time. Let her fall for me and then when she lets him go, he goes insane with heartbreak and kills some prostitute. End of story. I win.
The only problem is I’m falling for her. The thought of stabbing her in the back like that makes the bottom drop out of my stomach. If it were anyone else, I could do it. I could swallow my conscience and get the job done. But it isn’t anyone else. It’s Grace. My Grace.
In all the time I was alive, I never once felt like someone really cared about me unconditionally. There was always a selfishness on their part. An ulterior motive. I tried so hard to please. And then when that wasn’t enough, I tried to push everyone away by taking what I wanted and shutting them out. I lost everyone who might have loved me. But now, Grace…She sees me as someone worthy of love. Worthy of her. And she doesn’t see any of the bad stuff.
So I watch and wait. Biding my time. Letting her do the work for me, so I don’t have to make a choice.
Meanwhile, Cam is obsessed with the bombing. He’s fascinated by the logistics. What type of materials the terrorist used. How he could have insured more casualties by upping the amount of C4 or using better wiring.
“Did you see how confused and frightened the survivors were when they interviewed them on the news?” he asks me, freezing the DVR on the terror-stricken face of the woman I’d helped Grace save. “It doesn’t take much to flip everything upside down. Anarchy, man. Complete and utter chaos.”
“You sure it wasn’t you?” I ask, though I know the truth.
“If I’d done it, there wouldn’t have been survivors.” I don’t doubt it.
Now it’s Saturday morning, and it’s freakin’ early. It’s a good thing I don’t sleep anymore or I would have never been able to follow Grace and Cam to the orange brick building with thin stained-glass windows and a gold Star of David on the slanted roof.
The weathered sign reads Beth Shalom. I wonder who Beth is while I wait for them to enter the building along with a few other people in dresses and suits.
Once they’re inside, I make my way up the steps to the double doors. I notice the little lopsided rectangle on the doorframe and shake my head, wondering what it means.
Laughter and chatter pour from inside, and I make out the unmistakable sound of Grace’s voice. Still I hesitate. Should I follow them in? What if they see me?
An elderly man holds the door open as a man with a small silk cap on his head clutches his son’s hand, leading him inside. The boy and dad exchange a look full of love, and I momentarily forget why I’m here. The chatter inside the temple quiets, and the low voice of a man begins to sing. The words are foreign, but the melody is haunting.
Then I notice the old man still holding the door for me, and I smile at him as I step forward. But I cannot make it over the threshold. It’s like there’s an invisible brick wall blocking my path. The man frowns at me like I’m playing some kind of joke on him.
“Forgot something,” I mutter and run back toward the car.
Inside I am shaking. I think back to Shelby’s cross and how it burned. I understand the power of belief, and I will not doubt it again.
Fine. Let Cam and Grace have their little moment. But the thought of that sick bastard being allowed in a house of worship while I am denied entry sends a rage pulsing through my body, and I crush the steering wheel in my fists.
Luckily, the car is still drivable. I can handle a misshapen wheel. What I can’t handle is not knowing what they’re doing. What they’re saying.
I’m obsessed. I recognize this. But it doesn’t change my feelings. There’s still that small part of me that wonders if she isn’t playing me for a fool…
Chapter 32
Grace
“I really enjoyed that.” I am laughing, giddy with the energy from today’s service.
“It was definitely…interesting,” says Cam. He’s shaking his head at me in wonder.
“What was your favorite part?” I ask, climbing into the Bug. I drive because Cam’s mom does not trust him with a car. Nor could she afford it.
“I don’t know. Most of it was in Hebrew.”
“Well, the Rabbi’s sermon wasn’t, and I liked that. How he talked about choices. That we all have—what did he call it? A Yetzer Horah—a little Devil on our shoulder that whispers bad thoughts—but that what really matters is our actions, how we respond to that tiny voice.”
“Some of our Devils are bigger than others,” Cam says, looking out the window. He’s watching a stray dog that has crossed the street. His finger twitches uncomfortably against his pants.
“Well that just makes us better people for ignoring them,” I say. He smiles.
“I guess my favorite part was the food afterwards. I liked those little cakes.” He pats his stomach, and I laugh.
He glances at the stray again. It’s come closer to the parking lot now. It’s a scrawny looking thing, and it limps like it’s been in a fight. One floppy ear is missing a chunk at the tip. It stops, as though drawn to my presence, and turns to look me in the face. His big brown eyes are filled with sadness, and I want to cry.
“He likes you,” Cam says. I cannot decipher the mood behind his words. Is it jealousy?
“We should rescue him,” I say on impulse. “He needs us. You could keep him at your place.”
“No. I mean, I don’t think I could take care of him. He p-p-probably has fleas. My mom would get angry.” I almost forgot about Cam’s stutter. I smile reassuringly and climb out of the car.
“Come here, little guy,” I say, squatting down and wiggling my finger at the dog. He obeys at once, trotting over as fast as he can on his three good legs. I let him sniff my hand and begin stroking his tummy and scratching behind his ears. He basks in the glory of a kind hand.
“That could be dangerous, you know.” Cam is out of the car now, and the dog trembles under my hand. “You should stand back, let me get him. He might have rabies or something.” He takes a step forward, and the dog begins to growl. It’s a low sound, but I feel it vibrate beneath my palm.
“He’s fine. I used to have a dog like him. Tommy. We can call him Tommy Two.”
“He looks pretty sick,” Cam says.
“I can fix him up. It’s not that serious,” I add, then I give Cam my own puppy dog eyes. I know it isn’t fair because of my Angelic nature. But I really think caring for a living thing will go a long way toward helping him.
“Why can’t you take him?” he tries, but I can hear his resistance cracking.
“My aunt is allergic to dogs.”
He sighs and looks away, toward the gray-clouded sky.
“Winter is almost here. The first snow is supposed to hit this weekend.” He nods. I continue. “I’ll take him, get him cleaned up and presentable, then I’ll bring him by your place. It’ll be something else for us to do together.” I feel guilty adding the last line after what Josh said last week. But it does the trick, because he’s smiling at me now. He even comes over and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Like I said before, I’ll try anything for you,” he says.
I beam back at him.
Chapter 33
Josh
The play is this weekend, and this is our last dress rehearsal. Miss Adams is in quite a state, bustling around the stage, triple-checking everything and everyone. She nearly bites Shelby’s head off for screwing up her lines. The girl dissolves into tears and runs from the room when Miss Adams tells her to toughen up if she wants a life in show business. I find this exchange exceedingly humorous.
“Something funny, Mr. Gaynes?” she snaps. Oops.
“Sorry, Miss Adams. Opening night jitters, I guess.” I blink my big blue eyes and lower my head. She calms down and smiles back.
“Quite understandable. Better now than tomorrow night. But you have nothing to fear, Mr. Gaynes. Your Romeo is coming along beautifully. Now. Let’s move on, shall we, people?” She claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do the final scene until Shelby is able to collect herself.”
I’m ready this time, unafraid to kiss Grace. I’ve done it before. And this time, I’m intending it for a particular audience. I can see him sulking around in the control booth, all in black. He walks with a maddening confidence now. I gave it to him. Now I’m going to take away some of the swagger.
Part of it is for my own sense of pride. I’ve decided to trust that Grace’s affections are real. I want him to feel the hopelessness. Feel the pain. He deserves a little pain, I think. And if I’m right, Grace’s performance will clinch the deal.
“Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here’s to my love! O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.”
I gulp the poison and stroke back her golden hair, brushing her cheek with my thumb, letting the tingle travel through us both until her mouth parts longingly. I lift her head gently in my hands and make sure the kiss can be seen from the back of the house. I can hear her heart speed up, see the scarlet tint to her cheeks as I set her head back down. I stroke her lips with tenderness when what I really want to do is have my way with her right there on the stage. I stagger to my feet and collapse. Romeo has died.
She wakes. She recites her lines and leans over my prone body, her hair tickling my face. I feel a tear, warm and wet, splash down onto my cheek.
“I will kiss thy lips,
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.”
She pulls her hair back as Miss Adams instructed to allow the audience to see and lowers her lips to mine. I part my mouth and kiss her back the best I can while still appearing dead. I can feel her tense and then relax with longing as she pulls, slow and reluctant, away from my mouth.
Her death comes moments after. A dagger to the chest. And she falls across me, where we lay together. Nice.
When the curtain swishes closed, we hear applause ring from all around. And as we rise, we can see there isn’t a dry eye among the cast and crew. Grace is flushed with humility and pleasure. I grin widely when I look to the back and hear the faint sound of a pencil snapping in two.
An hour later I am walking beside Cam toward the woods behind his place. He has a cat to play with tonight. The poor, unlucky creature is meowing from inside a black trash bag. Cam shakes it, but it refuses to stop. I ask how the play looked from the tech booth tonight.
“Great,” he says. I can feel the jealousy roll off of him, and I’m surprised he isn’t turning green.
“Did it look realistic enough? I’m really worried I won’t do a good job in front of all those people.”
“It looked pretty real to me,” he says, tossing the bag to me and preparing his bow. He’s made himself some pretty cool night-vision goggles, and he’s preparing to test them out.
“Hey, man. You aren’t upset about the kissing thing, are you?” He pauses with his bow at the ready. I can see the muscles in his arms tense, his breath puff out in the cold night air.
“No. I told you before, I get that it’s part of the play. It’s just…you make it look pretty good, you know?”
“Well, I’m not going to lie and say it was awful, but I really am just doing my part.”
“What’s it like?” he asks, motioning me to get ready.
“What?”
“Kissing Grace? Kissing…anyone?”
“It’s nice. Her lips are warm, soft, and smooth. So ready to be kissed. Like ripe fruit. She’s probably waited a long time for just the right guy. Not everyone is like that. Some girls are kind of over-eager and slobbery. Some are expert kissers. One girl even missed my mouth entirely once.”
“Have you done it before?” he asks. He lowers his weapon a little and sounds like that uncertain boy I first met at his locker.
“You mean sex? Sure. Many times. Once you do it, you can’t get enough.”
“Do you think you could give me some pointers?” he asks and nods, indicating I should open the bag. The cat darts out, black as the sky. Only its eyes reflect the light of the moon as it races up the tree toward precious freedom.
“Sure. I can tell you exactly what I would do to Grace.”
The arrow flies, and for the first time in weeks, he’s missed his target.
Chapter 34
Grace
Tommy Two scampers around my ankles in a dance of joy. He’s got a complete bill of health now, and I don’t need to take him to a vet to figure that out. I laugh at his big brown eyes and floppy tongue hanging lopsided outside of his mouth.
I feel bad for leaving him alone every night despite the comfortable spot I’ve created for him behind the school. A small pile of soft blankets for him to burrow in and a stockpile of food and water. I can’t exactly bring him with me to Heaven. Somehow I know Ms. Alvarez would never allow it.
At least I’ll be with him tonight.
Mrs. Deeb answers the door and takes in the sight of me, complete with Tommy and my flowery pink sleeping bag. She smiles and invites me inside. Fatmeh lives in a beautiful tri-level house. The vaulted ceilings and clean wood floors impress me the moment I walk in.
“Are you sure it’s OK to keep Tommy here with me overnight?” I ask.
“Certainly, Grace. We love animals. Go right on up.” My eyes trail all the way up the winding steps to the third floor, where I can already hear music blaring.
I still can’t believe Ms. Alvarez agreed to let me go to a sleepover. I almost wanted her to say no, so I wouldn’t have to hang out all night with Shelby and Fatmeh talking about boys. Their favorite boy, to be exact. My Josh. But no. Ms. Alvarez thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Perhaps I can fix one of them up with Cam, she says. She even supplied me with the Sandra Dee sleeping bag, like I’m ten or something. Maybe after hundreds of years, she really doesn’t remember what it’s like being sixteen.
“Gracie!” Shelby squeals the moment she spots me. “And that must be Tommy! Oh, he’s sooo cute.” She scoops him up in her arms and makes kissy faces while he licks her all over.
“Hi guys. Thanks for inviting me,” I say, rolling out my sleeping bag on the floor. Fatmeh raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on my taste, and I decide she really is a good friend.
“How could we have a sleepover the night before the play and not invite Juliet?” she says.
“Are you nervous?” Shelby asks, eyes wide.
“I still don’t know how I got myself into this situation,” I say.
“Let’s do facials! That’ll relax us,” Fatmeh says. She takes out what looks like a suitcase full of scrubs and masks and lotions and begins working on our faces. I’m missing Emily terribly and all the sleepovers I had at her house. We didn’t do facials, but we used to take turns doing each other’s hair.
“So, he’s really a gift for Cam?” Shelby asks, rubbing Tommy’s stomach.
“Yes.” They exchange looks. “What?”
“It’s just, we thought you and Josh…” Fatmeh lets her voice trail off.
“Cam and I are just friends.”
“And Josh?” Shelby leans forward in her seat.
“I don’t know,” I admit. She settles back, disappointed.
“He is hot. If you don’t get together with him soon, someone else will,” Fatmeh says.
“I thought I actually stood a chance for like two minutes, myself,” says Shelby.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I can’t help it.
“Well, I remember the day of the auditions, after school, I thought we were going to make this connection, but the next thing I knew he was gone. He hasn’t said more than two words to me since then.” She seems so down, I feel guilty. That was the night we went out for pizza.
“Well, I for one am moving on. I heard him laughing at me today.”
“Oh, Fatmeh! I don’t think he meant anything by it!” I say.
“I don’t know, Grace. Remember what you said in the library that day? You said evil doesn’t always look like a monster, or something like that.”
“Evil? That’s a stretch, don’t you think? One mistake and suddenly he’s the devil?” I’m standing because I can’t help being angered by this.
“Take it easy, Grace. I didn’t mean he’s Shaitan or anything.”
“Shaitan?”
“That’s the Muslim word for Satan,” says Shelby.
“Now Cam on the other hand,” Fatmeh says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, calming down enough to sit.
“I don’t know. The guy just gives me the creeps, you know?”
“There is something a little off about him,” says Shelby. They both look at me, waiting to hear my response.
