Coma (Paranormal Romance) (13 page)

“The woman has spirit!” Zack chuckled.
“You’ve got to give her that.”

“Uh-huh. And a twisted sense of humor,” I
chuckled as well. I felt a bit guilty for doubting her. She
obviously had some issues of her own. At least the Bible implied
so. I wondered who wrote the inscription. Undoubtedly, someone who
didn't approve of her line of work, someone very religious, and
possibly close to her. A family member?

“Let's get going,” Zack took the book back,
and we went for the bus.

~*~

It was long past sunset when we reached the
hospital. I wished I could go in with Zack, but it wouldn't be wise
to do so. It might compromise the whole thing. Someone might think
Sophie hired me to pull this prank on her doctor. No, I had to stay
away one last time.

Zack tucked the Bible in his back pocket, and
put his hands on my shoulders, drawing one deep breath, looking
straight into my eyes. “Lyra—”

As if hypnotized, I breathed a “Mhm?”

“Stay close,” those wide green eyes were
swept a couple of times with thick lashes, begging for my
confirmation.

I smiled, “Sure.”

“I should be back soon. Don't make me go
through that agony again,” he lowered his chin, holding his
gaze.

“I won't. Now get going or I'll freeze to
death,” I ran my hands over my arms to stress the point.

Zack smirked, and hesitated as if he
considered something, then said, “I guess I could give you my
shirt, but I don't think I could explain Sophie's doc why I came
back naked,” he chuckled, and a thought of him half naked woke up
my butterflies from their nap.

“Go,” I urged him with a slight push with my
palms against his chest. When my hands connected to that warm godly
statue, his eyes sparked, and a mischievous grin covered his face.
He disappeared into the darkness, leaving my hands pushing nothing
but air.

~*~

Half an hour later, Zack was back. Success
was written all over him. Swaggering, he flashed two thumbs up, and
grinned ear-to-ear. I jiggled in place from excitement.

“We did it!” He said as soon as he reached
me. Without stopping, he draped his arm over my shoulders, and
continued walking. I couldn't even express my shock with this
gesture, because he did it so nonchalantly, as if it were our
everyday thing. I swallowed hard, telling my butterflies to stop
flapping their wings, or I'd faint. “It was amazing. Oh, I wish you
could have been there.”

“So do I,” I breathed, still overwhelmed by
his arm over me.

“I gave Sophie the book, and she handed it to
her doctor,” he stopped walking, and pulled his arm off for
reenactment sake. “Sophie's hand was like this,” he bent his knees
as if he were sitting, and extended one hand. “Doctor's mouth
dropped, and her face turned pale white. She didn't take the book
right away,“ he chuckled. “She was in shock! Guess she didn't quite
believe the first test,” he snorted. “Sophie was still holding it
in the air, and then cleared her throat to get her attention.”

“So Sophie is free to go?” I cut in,
impatient to get to that part.

Zack brows knit together, “Curiosity will get
the best of you,” and then he smiled. “Anyway, she finally took the
book from Sophie, and opened it to look at the inscription. A
second later, she started laughing like a demented person. Sophie
and I didn't know what to do,” his brows shot up, and eyes
widened.

“Did you tell Sophie what was written?”

“After that, I did. Doc stopped laughing, and
muttered something only she could hear, and then said Sophie was
free to go in the morning if she wanted to.”

“Does she want to?” I asked, cautiously,
fearing the worst.

“Yeah!” Zack put up a high five, and I
smacked his palm really hard. “That was uncalled for,” he commented
my smack, chuckled, and faked a frown.

“What?! I was stressing out, and you kept me
in the dark. You could have said that first,” I returned the
frown.

“It was implied. I said we've won, didn't I?”
He pulled up a smug grin.

“So Sophie agreed to lie?”

“Yes, they are falsifying her sessions as we
speak, and her parents will pick her up tomorrow.”

“I didn't say goodbye to her,” I dropped my
lower lip, feeling sad. We weren't friends, but we shared a secret
that connected us more than years of normal friendship. Zack lined
up his pearl teeth, and his eyes sparked a devilish glow. “What?” I
asked. His grin widened. “Spill it out or I'll drag it out of
you!”

Zack chuckled, “Feisty!” I approached him,
threatening, but he said, “You didn't have to say goodbye.” My eyes
bulged. “She'll come by Mario's tomorrow!”

“What?! Come again?!” I couldn't believe my
ears. Silly grin took over my face. Zack nodded, also grinning.

“Let's go,” he motioned toward the incoming
bus.

All the way to the back of the bus, I
couldn't take the grin off. This was the best day ever. We saved an
innocent girl, a version of me, and she was coming by tomorrow.
Well, Zack saved her, but I was a part of it. I dropped on the seat
next to Zack with a loud sigh. I had a chance to have a friend that
was a freak like me.

He tapped my knee, saying, “Feels great,
doesn't it?” True happiness radiated from him, but now that Sophie
was okay, reality kicked my butt. He was in a coma somewhere, and
we had to talk about it. My grin dropped in a split second. “What's
wrong?” Worry deepened his voice.

“Zack?”

“Yes,” he flashed a faint smile, examining my
dull expression.

“You're in a coma,” I said, as if that was my
last breath. His smile turned into a frown.

“I know,” he said, and scooped toward the
window, staring out.

“We have to find your body. You could—”

“—die! I know!” He said, gruffly. Panic swept
over me.

“That's not what I wanted to say,” and it
wasn't. I didn't consider that option at all. My gut clenched, and
tightness gripped my chest.

“But it's true,” he grabbed the hem of his
shirt between his fingers.

“Did any of your memories return?” My throat
tightened. The thought of him dying was unbearable. I couldn’t
allow myself to go there, to touch that painful place.

“Nothing usable,” he dropped his hem, and
returned to staring out the window.

“Zack, look at me,” I touched his hand, and
he faced me, his eyes gleaming from moisture. My heart sank. Pain
in those beautiful eyes was something I never wanted to experience.
“We have to try. You can't give up—” My voice cracked.

“I'm not giving up, Lyra. But what can I do?
I tried every imaginable thing there is.”

“I don't know. Meditation or some memory
boosting technique. Anything we can think of,” I swallowed a knot.
Suddenly, I was aware that losing him would be losing a part of me,
as well. It wasn't just like I would be losing some incredibly hot
guy that may or may not be interested in me. It was so much more.
There was never going to be another
Zack
. With him, I felt
complete. Regardless of what he felt about me, in this short period
of time, he became my everything. There will never be another to
top that. At that moment, I knew. I was undeniably in love with
him, and desperately needed him to exist at least as a friend.

“Okay,” Zack replied, indifferently.

“If you don't have any plans,” I said, “Come
with me now, and we'll Google some stuff. Mom's working night, and
Dad’s on call.”

Zack nodded, and returned to gazing out the
window. The rest of the ride was a silent agony.

~*~

All the way from the bus station to my front
door I kept glancing at the silent statue walking beside me. He
didn't seem to be aware of my anxiety; he seemed rather preoccupied
with his own thoughts, occasionally frowning as if he were having
an internal debate. I wondered how I got from being aggravated by a
stalking ghost to being completely infatuated with him. Every step
closer to my home, I became more nervous. Only moments separated us
from being alone in my room. Sure, he was there before, but under
totally different circumstances. Right now, he was a hot guy, and I
was a girl, and we were going to my room to use a computer. My
heart started racing like mad. I didn't think this through.
What
after I Google a couple of vague terms?

With shaking hands, I went through my bag
looking for keys. Zack squirmed by my side, and changed weight from
foot to foot, increasing my anxiety. Finally, my hand located the
darn thing, and I slid the key into the lock. Unaware how clammy my
hands have gotten, I turned the key, but my fingers slipped. The
key chain cut my index finger on the thumb's side. I cussed. The
blood oozed from a fresh bruise.

“Are you alright?” With urgency, Zack grabbed
my hand, and to my utter shock, put my bleeding finger between his
lips, sucking on my blood, with eyes closed. My eyes goggled in
disbelief. His lashes swept up, revealing those intoxicating eyes,
looking at my perplexed expression. A combination of an animalistic
urge and primordial rush streamed through me. My lips parted, and
my gaze dropped to my finger between his teeth. It was damn sexy,
and so wrong. Zack, looking like a shy vampire caught stealing
innocent girl's blood, flashed a confused grin, and removed my
finger from his mouth, then darted his gaze to the floor, shuffling
his feet.

“Zack?” I saw a drop of my blood on his lower
lip. He lifted his gaze, slightly blushing. “You've
got...um...a...” Unable to form a coherent sentence, I pointed
toward his lip.

“Oh,” Zack chuckled, and licked the remains
of my blood from his lip. I bit on mine, struggling with the hunger
it stirred inside of me. To stop myself from grabbing him right
then and there, I turned to the door, and unlocked the freaking
thing.

As expected, the house was empty, so I turned
on the lights, and motioned for him to get in. Passing me by, his
shoulder grazed mine, awakening the hungry beast I put to sleep a
moment ago. I bit my lip again. Zack went straight upstairs toward
my room, then turned midway.

“Coming?” He asked, watching me still
plastered to the door.

“Um, yeah,” I turned to lock the door behind
us, feeling blood rush to my face. When I turned around, he wasn't
in sight. A thought of him already in my room sent my heart down to
my heels, then back up. A knot formed in the back of my throat.
Slowly, I urged myself up the stairs.

The door to my room was wide open, and the
light illuminated the hall. I took a deep breath, and went in.

Zack, oblivious to my state of mind and body,
turned to me casually, and said, “How do we do this?” Eyes wide
open, he stared at me, waiting for my reply.

I cleared my throat, and motioned toward my
computer. “Um, there's only one chair, so one of us will do the
searching, and the other one will listen,” I smiled, nervously.

Zack pulled out the chair for me to sit. The
gesture had some regal tone to it, and it suited him perfectly.
Timidly, I sat down, and turned on my desktop computer. Zack leaned
on the back of the chair with his both hands. Boot up seemed to
last forever. I twisted my fingers in my lap, forgetting the
injury. It stung, and I suppressed the pain to hide my clumsiness.
Welcome screen finally showed up, and I opened the browser
window.

“Here we go,” I said and typed in
memory
recovery techniques
. I heard him inhale deeply. Search results
appeared, and I started opening a couple of them in tabs. First
impressions weren’t much, dealing mostly with post traumatic
amnesia and Alzheimer's. None of that could be applied to Zack.
There was one page that suggested several general techniques that
caught our attention. Zack lowered his head to get a better view of
the page, our cheeks almost touching. I closed my eyes, and stopped
breathing for a moment. A thin layer of air between our cheeks felt
thick and magnetic, begging to be annihilated. Involuntarily, I
shifted in my seat, my cheek grazing his lightly. Goose bumps
strolled down the back of my neck.

As if electrocuted, he pulled back, saying,
“Can’t see a thing. You read it,” and then he drew a breath that
left an impression he was sniffing my hair. Couple of more breaths,
and I was sure that was exactly what he was doing.

I cleared my throat, and commenced reading
about hypnosis, free association, relaxation training, guided
imagery and visualizations, projective drawing art therapy, dream
therapy...and came to a halt. Zack scooped my hair, and moved it
like that day in the park, over my left shoulder. My bare neck
screamed to be kissed, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his chin
on my shoulder like a puppy.

“Guided imagery and visualizations might be
worth a shot,” he said, his chin pressing against my shoulder as he
talked, sending shudders to my gut.

“Mhm,” I muttered, scared to move an inch,
wanting him badly to make a move on me. Again, he didn’t.

I extended our search in guided imagery and
visualizations. Zack must have gotten tired from standing, so he
went to sit on my bed. Briefly, I glanced at him, disappointed by
nothing happening, and continued reading. After a while, I came
across an interesting piece of information, so I asked him, “What
do you think?” He didn’t respond. I assumed he was considering it,
so I politely waited, keeping my eyes on the screen. But something
was off. All I could hear was deep, relaxed breathing. I turned
around, and saw him sleeping. I chuckled to myself.

After saving some bookmarks, I turned off my
computer. Reclined in a chair, I watched his chest slowly rise and
fall. Serenity of his face was alluring. He was stretched out on
his back on top of a comforter, his arms crossed under his head. I
supposed I could wake him up, but I didn’t want to. There was a
spare blanket in the drawer under my bed, so I took it out, and
covered him.