Heavenly (20 page)

stop into the snow-banked curb. My heart pounded against my ribs. I searched for the person crazy enough to be out walking

in weather like this. Hadn't they seen my lights?

"What an idiot," I gasped. After I'd caught my breath and my heart slowed, I tried to pull the car back onto the road, but my wheels only spun.

I banged my palm against the steering wheel. Where was that retard? I threw open my door and stood out in the

falling snow, ready to tear the guy's head off. Surely the idiot saw me. No doubt he was too embarrassed that he'd almost

caused an accident and was hiding now.

I took a few steps away from my car to assess the situation. My wheels were crammed in white ice.
Crap.
Again I

looked around for the culprit who'd caused this mess and saw nothing but an empty street.

If I get my hands on you, buddy, you're dead.
My gaze fell to the street. I'd follow his footsteps, bang on his door and tell him to come dig me out
the whack job.
Snow continued to drift to the ground, but the only footprints I saw were mine. No other footprints anywhere in sight. I was sure I'd seen him. Someone had darted into the road, someone had made me stop.

Where had he gone?

Creeped, I got back in the car, shivering. My teeth chattered. I dialed Britt.

"I got stuck. Can you come get me?"

"Oh, maaaan."

Britt was already plastered, I heard it in her lazy tone. I didn't want her driving. "Forget it."

"No, no, no. I'll come get you. Where are you, anyways?"

"I'm not that far, I'll walk. See you in a minute, okay?"

"You sure? Cause I can come an' find you."

No way was I going ю be responsible for her being on the road. "Just be waiting for me when I get there."

"I will. I yam." She laughed and the phone crashed off.

What had happened to her tonight? Though Britt had done her share of comfort drinking, she usually kept it to

weekends. Had something happened with Weston? I grabbed my bag and coat and locked the car. Then I trudged through the

two-foot snowfall to Britt's.

Go home.

The walk home was twice as long as it was to Britt's. I'd die of frostbite. I kept walking, snow beginning to coat me

from head to toe. I didn't want to go home. I hated home at the moment.

Drink. I need a drink.

Go home.

Forget it. I need this tonight. It'll do me some good to be
gone
for a while.

I kept trudging. Up ahead, I saw Britt's house and the dim glow from her upstairs bedroom window.

Go home.

"I'm not going home so just shut up." My angry voice cut through the silent air like a branch laden with too much

snow, cracking. I cringed, and looked around, sure I'd upset nature's peaceful slumber. I wanted a little peace of my own.

Could anyone deny that I didn't deserve it?

Nearing Britt's, the oddest sensation came over me. As if I wasn't inside myself anymore. I felt my legs moving, but I

saw myself going there as if I was suspended above. Britt's house suddenly looked dark and ominous. The friendly place with

wreaths and little yard characters poking out from the grass and bushes never bothered me before. Tonight, the elves and

dwarves rose from the snow like creepy globs. Every window was dark except for Britt's, and that window had a scarlet glow

coming from behind her wispy red sheers.

I stopped. I wasn't suspended above any longer, but saw Britt's house with my feet deep in cold, bitter snow.

Go home.

I closed my eyes. Why was this happening? I was over stressed. Too much had happened today. I needed a drink and

the only place I could get one was in that house.

I sought shelter on the covered porch, dug into my bag, got out my cell phone and texted Britt. I waited. And waited. I

couldn't knock, not at eleven-forty five. Her parents were clueless, but not altogether stupid. Bringing their attention to an inebriated Britt would cause Britt major problems. She'd never forgive me. She'd probably fallen asleep.

Great. Now what?


TWELVE


After texting Britt fifty times and not getting an answer, I figured she was comatose. I turned and headed toward my

house. I wanted to feel anger at being stuck, alone and cold with the prospect of freezing to death, but a comforting warmth

settled in. I found it odd that I wasn't stomping my way back through the snow, passing my abandoned car, cursing with

every step. Rather, inexplicable relief coursed through me.

My cell phone vibrated. I plucked it out of my bag, my hands shaking so hard it was difficult to press the tiny buttons

to see who was texting me.

Chase.

hey, i know u г ргоЫу asleep but i hope you get this. sorry about 2nite. can we still talk?

Shivering, I tapped out my reply.

im not asleep in fact im out walking my car got stuck

I had the brief hope he was magically near enough to come rescue me. What a turn of events. But I had no idea where

Chase lived. He could be miles away.

where? i'll give you a ride

im on lancaster dr. know where that is?

yeah be there in a sec

Shocked, I stared at the blank screen of my phone, the dim light softly glowing against the falling flakes in the air. I

put the phone in my pocket and continued walking, so I'd keep warm. Most houses were dark with the exception of outside

lanterns. How weird that Chase happened to be out driving.

Then my heart skipped. Maybe it was him who had darted out in front of my car. What if this whole thing had been

planned, so he could get me alone and...?

Somehow, the idea didn't work, though parts of it made sense. If Britt hadn't fallen face down on me, I'd be at her

house nice and toasty, getting blocked myself. Then Chase wouldn't have anything to do with tonight.

I couldn't worry about a simple thing like stalking. I was about to die of frostbite. To be found buried like a cipher in

the snow, in one of the five foot snow plow banks that would thaw months later, leaving my body preserved in all of its

eighteen-year-old glory.

A pair of headlights shone through the lacy snow ahead. The car was going so slow, it had to be Chase looking for

me. I'd freaking be a statue before he got to me in time. My teeth rattled. I walked out into the middle of the road, waving my trembling hands.

He flashed his lights.

When I was finally inside his warm car, I laid back my head, closed my eyes and let out a sigh. My clothes were as if

a wet, wool blanket covered me. The car smelled like coffee. Maybe he'd been at Starbucks all this time.

"How long have you been out here in this?"

"Just drive." I managed between chattering teeth. "I'm seriously frozen."

I heard him crank up the heat. My body shook.

"Maybe you should take off your clothes, you might warm up faster."

I opened one eye at him. "Yeah right."

"I didn't mean... that came out wrong."

"You stick your foot any deeper into your mouth and you're going to choke on it."

His laugh fumbled out. "So what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to a friend's house and my car got stuck."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Yeah, all because some idiot ran out in front of me." I peered at him through cracked lashes and gauged his reaction, just to see if my stalker theory had any chance. He was too engrossed with driving safely. After smelling Starbucks on him, I threw the theory out the window.

"Someone was walking in this?" he cracked.

"Someone other than me, yes, hard to believe there are two stupid people out tonight isn't it?"

"I didn't mean to... I didn't mean for it to sound—"

"Forget it," I clucked, smiled. Wait, I was mad at him for being an opportunist. "So I live on Silver Tree Drive. Do you know where that is?"

"I know where all the streets are in town."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

He looked over, as if to see if I was playing with him. "No, really," he said. "I have a memory for maps and numbers."

"And money?" I raised a brow.

His blank expression was clueless. "I'm pretty good with money," he admitted.

"I mean, greedy. Like what you said tonight about writing a book. Blood money."

"But there is no blood, the guardians are dead."

He was a literal sucker. I stared ahead at the snow. At the speed he drove, it was no wonder he was still out this time

of night. "You always drive this slow?" I asked.

"In this weather, I do." Both of his hands gripped the wheel and he sat like a ruler propped in the seat. "I'm not an opportunist, Zoe. I just think people would be interested in knowing about the existence of spirits."

"Do you think they'll believe you?"

"They will if I can find more people like you and me to share their stories."

"But some may not want their stories told. It gets back to that special thing. We're special because of what's happened

to us. I don't know about you, but that makes me feel responsible to protect them."

"Guardians don't need our protection. They can disappear at will."

"Do you really think they'll let you see them if your intentions are to expose them?"

"Not expose, I want to bring hope to people who might not have it. That's why I have to find others."

"And how are you going to do that? Put an ad online? You'll sound like a lunatic."

His expression paled, as though that was exactly what he had planned. "You don't think anyone will respond?"

"You're serious?" I sat up, hating that I was soaked to the skin soggy. "You run an ad anywhere looking for people who have seen spirits and every creepy worm will crawl out of the wood to talk to you. You won't know who's telling the

truth and whose blowing smoke."

He let out a sigh. "It's just a thought. That's all."

I pointed out my house and he pulled up in front and stopped.

"Nice house."

"Thanks." I didn't believe for one second his dream of writing for the tabloids was just a thought. "Forget about it.

Chase. Leave the stories of heavenly visitations to the Bible."

Chase studied the house. "You've seen Matthias here," he murmured.

"Lots of times." I opened the door and got out.

"You're lucky your sister is handicapped," he said. "It pretty much guarantees you'll be seeing them all your life.

Maybe it won't always be Matthias, but you'll see them."

Did he really just say that? I thought about slamming the car door, but the naivety on his face wouldn't allow for that

reaction. I glanced up at Luke's bedroom window where I'd last seen Matthias and imagined seeing his face there.

Cancer moved into the house. Mom's countenance was quiet, morbid, hopeless. Dad was clipped, irritated and edgy. I

tiptoed on fragile eggshells, offering a smile and a hug to Mom every now and then. My heart ached for her. Throw Abria

into the funeral-like mood and it was like having a sparrow loose in a tomb.

Luke sulked from room to room. One minute he was plopped in front of the TV. The next he was wandering

aimlessly. I guess Mom and Dad grounded him, because he hadn't been around this much since he was ten.

He glared at me when our eyes met. I glared back. At one point, we bumped into each other in the hall.

"This is your fault," he mumbled.

"Excuse me," I snapped. "This is your pit, Luke. You dug it all by yourself."

He sneered, cursed and passed me, continuing to mumble under his breath until he vanished into his bedroom with the

slam of the door.

He was restricted from his car. It sat abandoned at the side of the house, snow collecting on the peeling blue body like

a stained headstone in a graveyard. I was assigned to take him to and from school, something both Luke and I hated. I

complied to ease my parents' suffering but Luke and I ignored each other during the short trips.

Whether or not he stayed at school once we got there, I don't know. I wasn't his babysitter. I found solace in being

away from home. Midterms were approaching, so I stayed after class in the library in an effort to study, but my mind was

pulled a thousand different directions. Between home, Mom and Dad and Luke, not to mention Abria—who was actually

behaving miraculously well lately— I hadn't seen Matthias in weeks. I could hardly focus long enough to internalize

whatever I was studying.

Britt and Weston were on the outs. That's why she'd been wasted the night my car got stuck. She'd leeched onto me in

the days after, crying one minute, moaning about him the next, though she'd been vague about what had happened. All she'd

said was that Weston had found her phone number in Brady's cell phone.

I sat in the library one day, determined to get through my history notes when she plunked down next to me, reeking of

alcohol.

She crossed her arms on the table and dropped her head down, eyes closed. "I feel like crap."

"What are you doing drinking during the day?" I whispered. "Are you nuts?"

"He won't take my calls. He ignores my texts."

"Because he found your phone number in Brady's cell. What did you expect?"

"What kind of guy checks his friend's cell phone?" she mumbled.

"A suspicious guy. A jealous guy."

"Nothing happened." Britt lifted her head and it bobbed like a newborn baby's. Her eyes opened, her lids hung halfway over her irises. "He just had my number, that's all."

I shut my history book. "You shouldn't have given Brady your number to begin with. What did you think he was going

to do with it? Stare at it? Sell it?"

"I dunno. Brady's nice. He's just nice. That's all."

I rolled my eyes and put an arm around her shoulders, hugged her. "And you're smashed. You can't drive home like