Halo Read online

  “Shh!” I flapped my hands at her when I saw the kids at the next table turn and stare. “No, of course not!”

  “Sorry,” she said. “You just surprised me. I mean, well, I just thought you would have. But you’ve done other stuff, yeah?”

  “Sure. We go for walks, hold hands, share lunch . . .”

  “My God, Beth, how old are you?” Molly groaned. “Do I have to spell everything out for you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait, have you even seen it?”

  “Seen what?” I exploded.

  “You know,” she said emphatically. “It!” She gestured in the vicinity of her groin until I finally understood her meaning.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed. “I’d never do anything like that.”

  “Well, hasn’t he hinted that he wants more?”

  “No,” I said indignantly. “Xavier doesn’t care about stuff like that.”

  “That’s what they all say at first,” Molly said cynically. “Just give it some time. Great as Xavier is, all guys want the same thing.”

  “Do they really?”

  “Of course, hon.” Molly patted my arm. “I just think you should be prepared.”

  I fell silent. If there was one subject I trusted Molly’s opinion on it was boys. They were her area of expertise, and she’d had enough experience to know what she was talking about. I felt suddenly very uneasy. I’d assumed Xavier wasn’t bothered by my inability to fulfill all aspects of our relationship. After all, he’d never brought it up, never hinted that it numbered among his expectations. But was there a chance he was keeping his true desires from me? Just because he never mentioned it, didn’t mean it wasn’t playing on his mind. He loved me because I was different, but human beings still had certain needs—some of which couldn’t be ignored indefinitely.

  “Oh my God, have you seen the new guy?”

  Molly broke my train of thought, and I looked up to see Jake Thorn strolling past us. He didn’t acknowledge me but instead crossed the cafeteria to sit at a table of about fifteen seniors who gazed at him with a strange combination of adoration and respect.

  “He hasn’t wasted any time recruiting friends,” I commented to Molly.

  “Are you surprised? That guy is seriously hot.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Yeah, in a dark, brooding kind of way. He could be a model with a face like that.”

  Jake’s circle of supporters all had a similar air about them. They had dark shadows under their eyes. They tended to keep their heads down and didn’t make eye contact with anyone outside their group. I watched the way Jake looked at them, with a self-satisfied smile on his face, like a cat with a saucer of cream.

  “He’s in my lit class,” I said casually.

  “Oh my God, you are so lucky!” Molly moaned. “So what’s he like? He looks like a rebel to me.”

  “He’s actually pretty intelligent.”

  “Damn.” Molly pouted. “Those guys never go for me. I only get the dumb jocks. But hey, there’s no harm in trying.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” I said.

  “That’s easy for you to say when you’ve got Xavier Woods,” Molly replied.

  We were distracted by a piercing scream coming from the kitchens, followed by the sound of panicked voices and running feet. The students exchanged nervous glances and a few got up hesitantly to investigate. One of them, Simon Laurence, froze in the doorway of the kitchen and his hand flew to his mouth. He backed away, his face was turning ashen, and he looked like he was about to retch.

  “Hey, what happened?” Molly grabbed Simon as he came past us.

  “Uh, one of the cooks,” he said. “Deep fryer tipped over . . . burned her legs pretty bad. They’re calling for an ambulance.” He staggered off, looking shaken.

  I stared down at my plate and tried to focus on sending healing energy in the direction of the kitchen, or at least something that might numb the pain. It was more effective if I could see the person who was hurt or touch them, but I knew that to go into the kitchen would look suspicious, and I’d probably get thrown out for interfering before I could get near the cook. So I stayed where I was and did my best. But there was something wrong: I couldn’t channel properly. Every time I tried, something blocked me, and I felt my energy rebound before it reached the kitchen. It felt like another force was intercepting mine, as impenetrable as concrete, pushing the healing energy back. Maybe I was just tired. I pushed harder but only met with stronger resistance.

  “Um, Beth . . . what are you doing? You look constipated,” Molly said, snapping me out of my trance.

  I shook my head to clear it and gave her a forced smile. “It’s just warm in here.”

  “Yeah, let’s go. There’s not much we can do anyway,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing up.

  I followed her wordlessly out of the cafeteria.

  As we passed the table where Jake Thorn and his new friends were seated, Jake looked up at me. Our eyes met, and for a split second I felt I was drowning in their depth.

  22

  The “S” Word

  On the weekend, Molly visited Byron for the first time. She’d been making veiled remarks about coming over for a while, and finally I relented and invited her. It didn’t take her long to make herself at home. She flopped down on the deep sofa and kicked up her feet.

  “This is a great place,” she said. “You could host a sick party here.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely to happen anytime soon,” I said.

  Ignoring my lack of enthusiasm, Molly leapt to her feet to examine a piece of artwork hanging above the fireplace. It was an abstract piece depicting an expanse of white with a circular symbol drawn in the center. Concentric blue circles widened around it, growing fainter as they moved closer to the edge of the canvas.

  “What’s this supposed to be?” she asked dubiously.

  I looked at the inky blue circles against the stark white background and thought of a number of ideas they could represent. It seemed to me an expression of ultimate reality, a depiction of Our Creator’s role in the universe. He was the source and center of all things. From Him the web of life unfolded, but it was all inextricably tied to Him. The circles could have represented the extent of His sovereignty, and the white, a depiction of space and time. His power, His very being extended to the edges of the canvas and hinted that it went beyond—filling every space. Not just the world belonged to Him, but the universe as well. It was an expression of infinity, encapsulating everything the human mind struggled to understand. The only true reality that could never be denied was Him.

  Of course I wasn’t about to try and explain any of that to Molly. I wasn’t being arrogant in believing that it was beyond the comprehension of man. Humans feared life outside their world, and although some questioned what lay beyond, they never came close to enlightenment. One day human life would end, and even the earth itself would crumble to dust, but existence would continue.

  Molly lost interest in the painting and instead picked up the acoustic guitar propped against a chair and held it gingerly.

  “Does this belong to Gabriel?”

  “Yes, and he loves that thing,” I replied, hoping she would put it down.

  I looked around furtively in case Gabriel and Ivy were lurking around a corner, but they were tactfully giving us some privacy. Molly held the instrument gently, running her fingers over the taut strings in fascination.

  “I wish I was musical. I used to take piano when I was little but I never had enough discipline to practice. It just seemed like too much hard work. I’d love to hear your brother play.”

  “Well, we can ask him when he comes back. Feel like a snack?”

  The thought of food distracted her, and I led her into the kitchen, where Ivy had thoughtfully laid out assorted muffins and a fruit platter. My siblings had finally recovered from the incident at the party and had accepted Molly as one of my friends. Although they didn’t have much choice—I seemed to have deve
loped an inexorable will of my own these days.

  “Oh, yum!” said Molly, taking a bite of a blueberry muffin and rolling her eyes to emphasize her appreciation of Ivy’s cooking. She froze suddenly and looked forlorn. “This doesn’t count as salad, does it?”

  At that moment Gabriel appeared at the back door, lugging a surfboard, his damp T-shirt clinging to his taut body. He had recently taken up surfing as a way of releasing pent-up tension. Of course, he hadn’t needed to take lessons. Where was the need when the waves themselves would do his bidding? Gabriel was very active in human form; he needed physical activity like swimming, running, or lifting heavy objects in order to quell his restlessness.

  Molly surreptitiously dropped her muffin onto her plate as Gabriel wandered into the kitchen.

  “Hello, Molly,” he said.

  Nothing ever escaped Gabriel’s notice, and his attention was drawn to the discarded muffin. He must have wondered what he’d done to make her lose her appetite. “Bethany, perhaps we can offer Molly something else,” he said very politely. “She doesn’t seem to be enjoying Ivy’s muffins.”

  “No, they’re delicious,” Molly cut in.

  “Don’t worry, Gabe,” I said with a laugh. “Molly’s on a crash diet for the prom.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Crash diets are very unhealthy for girls your age,” he said. “Besides, I wouldn’t recommend weight loss—in your case—it would be completely unnecessary.”

  Molly stared at him for a moment before speaking. “You’re just being nice,” she said. “I could afford to lose a few pounds.” She pinched the flesh around her waist between thumb and forefinger to illustrate her point.

  Gabriel leaned against the kitchen counter and studied her for a moment. “Molly,” he said eventually, “the human form is beautiful regardless of size or shape.”

  “But aren’t some forms more beautiful than others?” Molly asked. “Like, you know, supermodels?”

  “There is nothing more alluring than a girl with a healthy appreciation of food,” Gabriel said. The comment surprised me; I’d never heard him express any sort of opinion about what constituted feminine appeal. He was usually completely immune to any sort of female charm or attractiveness. It was just something he never noticed.

  “I totally agree!” said Molly and she resumed nibbling at her muffin.

  Gabriel looked pleased at having conveyed his point and headed out of the kitchen.

  “Wait! Are you coming to the prom?” Molly called out after him.

  Gabriel turned to look at her, an expression of mild amusement flickering around his silvery eyes.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Unfortunately it’s part of my job description.”

  “You might enjoy it,” she suggested coyly.

  “We’ll see.”

  Despite the noncommittal nature of Gabe’s answer, Molly seemed hugely satisfied by it. “I guess I’ll see you there then,” she said.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon thumbing through fashion magazines and Googling images on Molly’s laptop, looking for hairstyles to replicate. Molly was definite that she wanted to wear hers up, either in a French roll or a crown of curls. I wasn’t sure what I wanted but knew I could rely on Ivy to come up with something.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I blurted out suddenly as Molly was printing a photo of Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl, “about Xavier and the . . . um . . . physical part of our relationship.”

  “Oh my God,” Molly squealed. “Tell me everything. How was it? Did you enjoy it? It doesn’t matter if you didn’t. You can’t expect the first time to be good. It gets better with practice.”

  “No, no, nothing’s happened,” I replied. “I was just wondering whether I should bring it up with Xavier.”

  “Bring it up? What for?”

  “To find out what he’s thinking.”

  “If it bothered him, he would have brought it up already. What are you stressing for?”

  “Well, I want to know what he wants, what he expects, what would make him happy . . .”

  “Beth, you don’t have to do anything just to make a boy happy,” Molly said. “If you’re not ready, you should wait. I wish I’d waited.”

  “But I want to talk to him about it,” I said. “I don’t want to seem like a little kid.”

  “Beth.” Molly closed the Web site she was exploring and swung around to face me wearing her sober counselor face. “This is something that all couples have to talk about eventually. The best way is just to be honest, don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. He knows you’ve had no experience, right?” I nodded mutely. “Okay, well, that’s good, there won’t be any surprises. You just need to tell him that it’s been on your mind and ask him how he feels. Then you’ll know where you both stand.”

  “Thanks.” I grinned at her. “You’re the best.”

  She laughed. “I know. By the way, did I tell you I’ve come up with an awesome plan?”

  “No,” I said. “What’s the objective?”

  “Getting Gabriel’s attention.”

  I groaned inwardly. “Molly, not this again—we’ve been through this before.”

  “I know, but I’ve never met anyone like him. And things are different now . . . I’m different.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve realized something.” She grinned. “The only way I can get Gabriel to like me is to be a better person. So . . . I’ve decided to develop a social conscience, you know, show more community involvement.”

  “How exactly do you plan to do that?”

  “By doing some volunteer hours at the nursing home. You have to admit, it’s a great strategy.”

  “You know, most people don’t take up community service as a strategy,” I said. “You shouldn’t do it as a ploy. Gabe wouldn’t like that.”

  “Well, he doesn’t know, does he? Anyway, I’m doing it for the right reasons,” she said. “I know he doesn’t see me the way I see him right now, but one day he might. I can’t expect that out of the blue he’ll suddenly just change his mind. I have to show him I’m worthy.”

  “But how will you be showing him that by faking it?” I asked.

  “Maybe I really want to change.”

  “Molls,” I began, but she cut me off.

  “Don’t try and talk me out of it,” she said. “I want to follow this through and see where it goes. I have to try.”

  It won’t go anywhere. It can’t, I thought, remembering the warnings that had been issued to me not so long ago.

  “You don’t know anything about Gabriel,” I said. “He’s not what he seems. Gabriel has as much feeling as that stone angel in the garden.”

  “How can you say that?” Molly exclaimed. “Everyone has feelings—just with some people, they’re harder to get in touch with. I don’t mind waiting.”

  “You’re wasting your time with Gabriel,” I said. “He doesn’t feel things like ordinary people.”

  “Well, if you’re right, then I’ll let it go.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I know it’s risky to like him,” Molly conceded. “But I think it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, it’s too late for me to back out now. How am I supposed to look at anyone else after him?”

  I looked at Molly closely. Her face was so open and genuine that I couldn’t help but believe her. Her eyes were shining with anticipation.

  “Has he given you any reason to think something might happen?” I ventured.

  “Not yet,” Molly conceded. “I’m still waiting for a sign.”

  “Why do you like him so much?” I asked. “Is it just the way he looks?”

  “At first it was,” Molly admitted. “But now it’s something more. Whenever I see him, I get this weird sense of déjà vu—like I’ve been with him before. It’s kinda scary but amazing. Sometimes I feel like I know what he’s about to say or do.” She shook her curls d
eterminedly. “So, will you help me?”

  “What can I do?”

  “I want you to take me seriously. Let me come with you next time you visit Fairhaven.”

  Was Molly’s interest in the nursing home part of the divine plan? We were trying to encourage a spirit of charity, even if the motivation was questionable. “I guess I can do that much, but promise not to get your hopes up.”

  By the time Molly was ready to leave, it was getting dark. Gabriel politely offered to drive her home.

  “No, it’s okay,” Molly said, not wanting to be an imposition. “I can walk. It’s really not far.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Gabriel replied, picking up the keys to the Jeep. “The streets are no place for a young girl at this time of night.”

  He wasn’t the sort of person one argued with, so Molly just winked as she hugged me good-bye. “A sign!” she hissed in my ear before following Gabriel to the car, walking as demurely as it was possible for Molly to walk.

  Upstairs in my room, I tried to continue working on the poetry assignment but found myself with a serious case of writer’s block. I couldn’t come up with a single idea. I scribbled down a few possibilities, but they all seemed so stale they ended up in the wastepaper basket. As Jake had been the one to start it, I felt no sense of ownership over it and nothing I came up with seemed to fit. Eventually I gave up trying and went downstairs to call Xavier.

  As it turned out, my creative deficiency wasn’t a problem.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of completing the first stanza for us,” Jake announced as we sat together at the back of the lit classroom the next day. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, I’m glad you did. Can I hear it?”

  With a flick of his wrist, he opened his journal to the right page. His voice was like liquid as he read aloud.

  She had the face of an angel

  I saw mirrors in her eyes

  We were one and the same, she and I

  Both bound by potent lies.