18 Thoughts (My So-Called Afterlife Book 3) (22 page)

He smoothed his sand pile down until it flattened. “I guess when I was five. That’s when Dad put me in guitar lessons. School ended about an hour before my mom could pick me up, but he felt like letting me sit in afterschool care was a waste of money. As fate would have it, there was a music store across the street from my school, so the crossing guard helped me walk there every day for a lesson, Monday through Friday.”

“So, what’s your plan after high school? You mentioned college before. You don’t want to pursue a music career?”

“Nah. I’m not massively concerned about making it big as a musician. I mean, it’d be sweet and all, but I’m completely content doing music as a hobby. Probably sounds like a stupid thing to say to someone who’s so passionate about their art.”

“Not at all. I like how you’re not deluded into thinking you can easily become a rock star. Lots of guys at school seem to think they’re going to be the next big thing at whatever sport or hobby they’re involved in. So you get kudos in my book for not being disillusioned. What do you want to major in?”

“Philosophy.”

I snorted. “Okay, I take my kudos back.”

“I know, I know. Being a big thinker hardly translates into a solid career path. Still, I like to picture myself leading lectures at a university.”

“What does one do with a philosophy degree until they can achieve that status?”

Nate shrugged. “Lots of things, actually. I’m thinking I’ll maybe go into counseling. Help screwed-up adolescents like me. The whole experience with killing Bo and hearing your thoughts has taught me a lot about the human condition.” He nudged me with his toe. “Maybe I’ll even go into journalism. Follow you and your stories around the world.”

The way he pronounced things so openly excited me. Unlike other boys, his words held conviction. It was something that drew me in, and then I realized that maybe he spoke with such declaration because he’d already followed me to all those places we didn’t quite remember.

“So, Mr. Philosopher, pick a word that best describes you and tell me why.”

“It’ll be hard to pick just one. I’m a very complicated person.” He winked at me before holding up his finger. “Adventurous. Every summer, until this past summer, my whole extended family would rent a houseboat to travel across the four Great Lakes around Michigan, and my cousins and I would spend the month of July water-skiing, knee boarding, and tubing. When we docked, we’d find cliffs to jump off and rocks to climb. There were usually places to zip-line during our vacations, too. My parents even let me firewalk with them last summer.”

“Firewalking sounds awesome!”

Before Conner’s accident, I’d never understood why anyone would want to do that. These days, I found myself craving adventure, though. Of course I hadn’t done anything remotely adventurous yet, but I definitely wanted to. I guess near-death experiences tended to have that effect on people.

“It is, makes you feel so alive! Like you can take on the world. You should try it with me some time.”

“I would love to. Anything else I should know about you?”

“I maintain a huge garden at my house. Actually, I might minor in herbology. I’d love to teach people how to live off the land. I also try to do yoga and meditate as often as possible, and don’t hate me, but I actually prefer tea to coffee.”

“Shut up!”

He covered his face with his hands and groaned. “I’ve ruined it now, haven’t I? Tea is a deal breaker.”

“No, it’s just, I can’t believe you do yoga! I mean, I knew you were different from other guys, but not that different!”

Peeking at me through a gap in his fingers, he said, “Hey, how do you think I maintain my six-pack abs? Yoga is the most grueling cardio workout I do seven days a week! Come over one morning. I’ll show you.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Too bad. There are lots of fun poses we could work on together.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Just think about it. All right, my turn. Tell me about your ideal guy. This should be easy since all you have to do is point to me.”

“Okay, first quality. He must be super humble.”

“Dammit.”

I laughed. “Honestly, I don’t really know. I haven’t had much experience with guys, so I’m not sure what my ideal qualities are.”

“What have you seen in Conner all these years?”

He asked the question with such tenderness it made my chest ache. “I guess his loyalty. He hasn’t cared that I’m this big nerd, a girl who never wears makeup, whose hair is too puffy, who never has stylish clothes. He accepts me for me, all of the Jedi Order does. Plus, he helps me lighten up, since I’m way too serious most of the time.”

With red cheeks, Nate stared at the ground and brushed his hand over a pile of sand.

“He may not be the right guy for me. Only time will tell. But he is my best friend, my rock. He’ll always be a part of my life. So if you’re still interested in spending time with me, you’re gonna have to deal with that. Can you?”

Nate took a deep breath and hesitated, like maybe he debated ending our game of twenty questions now. “There’s this memory I have. I remember flashing lights, lots of people running around, the sad, scared faces of those I loved, and more tears than I ever wanted to see any parent cry. I was a wreck lying in the hospital, thinking about Bo’s funeral and wishing I could be there. Thankful at the same time I couldn’t be. Not sure if I could walk up to his parents and speak, offer my condolences. But when I
saw
you for the first time, a strange, peaceful feeling came over me. A sort of clarity. A deep connection to life I’d never felt before with anyone. Olga, being with you is like this experience that’s allowed me to step out of my big ego and connect to something bigger than just having fun. My accident and Bo’s death already laid the groundwork to make me humble, but it also killed me inside. Meeting you was my wake-up call, and I’ve never felt more alive. Not even while doing all those crazy stunts. So, the answer is yes. I can live with anything, as long as you’re in my life.”

So. Dang. Swoonworthy!

As he slid onto his back, hair still crammed under his fur hat, I noticed the beginning of a mustache and shadow-beard forming and found it irresistible. I traced my finger over the thin line above his lip down to his chin. He tugged on my hand, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me again, but instead I rested my head on his shoulder.

Sighing, he asked, “What’s your most irrational fear?”

“Why?”

“So I can scare you on Halloween.”

“Jerk. That’s my birthday, ya know. A little over a month and I’m legal.”

Nate cleared his throat, like he was trying to hide a laugh. “Lucky. I missed having a birthday/holiday combo by one day.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“February fifteenth. Maybe that’s why I’m such a romantic, being born so close to Valentine’s Day and all. Love was in the air.”

“So I’m three and a half months older than you?”

“Hot, right? You little cougar.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now I know this will never work. I’m too mature for you.”

He pulled me closer to him. “It’s funny. I spent my whole life in a hurry to grow up. A lot of the adrenaline junkie things, like skydiving, you usually have to wait to be eighteen for. But now that I’ve met you, I just want to freeze time.”

Melting
. I needed to focus on his question before I let him kiss me again. “Drowning in poop.”

“What?”

“That’s my irrational fear.” In a shaky voice, I recounted the experience with Conner daring me to jump into a ruptured septic tank, but Nate didn’t seem to comprehend my trauma because all he could do by the end of my story was crack up.

“I’m sorry,” he said between laughs.

“Shut up. I don’t believe you.” I pinched his arm. “What’s your most irrational fear anyway?”

“Someone stabbing me.”

“Okaaay.” I drew out the word. “Elaborate,
por favor
.”

He kissed the top of my forehead. “I don’t know. I’ve been to a lot of rock concerts over the past few years. There are always big crowds, and I just began to think someone could very easily stab me. Nobody would ever know who did it.”

“You are a mystery, Barca.”

Twirling my Morticia Addams ring, he asked, “What’s this silly ring about? You never take it off.”

“Conner gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. Actually, it was a regift from five years earlier when I gave it to him one summer.”

His smile faded. “So you like rings. Good to know. Do you want to get married?”

“Are you proposing to me already?”

“Not yet. I’m saving that for our third date.”

“Just checking. And I’m not sure. I mean, you can read my mind, so you probably know I’ve always envisioned marrying Conner one day. Now though… I wonder if I’m too selfish to ever get married.”

“Why do you think you’re selfish?”

I glanced toward the lifeguard tower, the flag there flapping in the wind. “For starters, I’m an only child, so I’m used to getting my way. Plus, I’m realizing something lately. I keep thinking of how Tammy should stay single because she’s always had a boyfriend since forever. But even though I haven’t had much guy experience, I’ve been guy obsessed my whole life, even if it was one guy in particular. Kind of makes me crave some freedom and independence, like maybe I shouldn’t worry about picking you or Conner. But that also sounds absurd to me because you’re both so wonderful. How could I refuse both of you?”

We were silent for a moment.

“Barca, I do like you. You know this. You can read my thoughts. But please understand, I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m worried I’m using you as some emotional crutch. My heart is so confused right now it’s probably better we just stay friends.”

A glimmer of hope remained in his eyes. “But what about our connection… I mean, don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to see where this takes us?”

Pushing my finger to his lips, I meant to quiet him. Debating this right now would do no good because I’d just end up more confused. But then the feel of his supersoft lips against my finger distracted me and all I wanted to do was kiss him, to forget about everything else for a moment. I knew it was a shallow thought, especially after I claimed I wanted my independence not thirty seconds ago. But before I could pull back, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. My breath hitched, and we locked eyes for a moment, his gaze seeming to ask if this was okay. I remembered I didn’t have to
say
anything. Relaxing into the kiss, I closed my eyes and titled my head to the side. It felt like we’d done this many times before, so comfortable was our kiss. For the first time, I felt loved unconditionally. Just like God, Nate could hear all my wretched thoughts, yet he still wanted me. I didn’t need to keep myself covered up with him. It made me bold. My hand flew to his chest, my heart crashed into my sides, my breathing came fast. He slipped his tongue in my mouth, and I gasped, then…

We trace our names in the sand, and then he snaps a picture of us next to our designs. We lay on our backs, staring at the cumulus clouds in the light of the moon and look for pictures in the piles of puffy cotton. “I know this probably sounds strange since I just snuck out for the first time, but I’ve never felt more at peace than this moment,” I tell him. Fireflies flit past us.

“I know what you mean,” Nate murmurs, the moon full and bright behind him.

I sat up in a cold sweat. Beside me, Nate did, too, shaking his head.

So far our vision of the house party and coffee house came true. Did we make them come true? But then, why did they feel like memories? And we didn’t have this vision of the beach until we were already here, so it wasn’t a premonition. Then there were the other memories, the ones with Tammy and the ones with an angel talking to me, the dream Conner had of being in a prison when he received his first shock therapy. Add on Nate reading my mind and Conner waking up from his coma acting strangely, and all of this had to be connected. The knowledge of it came from deep down and hovered at the surface. I could see it right in front of me, but I couldn’t break through. Couldn’t figure out how these things fit together. It made me terrified and more determined. There’d never been a puzzle I couldn’t solve. I wasn’t going to give up until I cracked the code. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I possessed the odd knowledge that this was the easy part. Darker roads lay ahead.

“I agree,” Nate said, hearing me work out my thoughts. “It’s definitely all connected.”

“Yeah?” I couldn’t tell whether he actually believed we were all connected somehow or just grabbed on to the thought so it’d help keep me near him a little while longer.

He lay down next to me and reaching across, took my hand in his and laced our fingers together. “I’m telling you the truth. You can trust me.”

I was too tired to argue. Exhausted, I fell fast asleep.

“You’re grounded, young lady!” Dad yelled, jabbing a finger toward me as Nate and I peddled through the parking lot of my apartment complex.

We hadn’t woken up until 7:39 a.m., and with the three-mile bike ride back, it was past eight now. My parents already had all the neighbors up and looking for me.