Rising (12 page)

She poked me in the chest.
 
My hand went up naturally to take it.
 
I knew I had that half-smile plastered to my
face again.
 
A shot of adrenaline ran
through me when I tugged on her to come closer.
 
She leaned into me easily, then the porch light went on and the front
door opened.

“Clara?
 
Is that you?” asked a gorgeous, red-haired woman in a floor-length white
bathrobe.

“Yes, Mom.
 
Um, this is Gabriel,” said Clara, stepping up to the porch.

I waved politely, deciding it would feel a
little awkward to go up and shake her mother’s hand who stood there in her
nightclothes.
 
Weird.

“Sorry, we were so late,” I said.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said in a crooning
voice.
 
“You can come have dinner over
here next time.”

I suddenly felt like I was being examined
again, but not by Clara.
 
I nodded to
them both then returned to my Jeep and cranked it up.

“Hey, wait,” called Clara.

She had come partly down the walk and pulled
out her phone.

“Smile.”

She took a picture, glanced at her phone then
gave me a funny expression and waved.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” she said as
I backed out of the drive.

Clara had a sort of sorry look on her face when
she disappeared through the doorway.
 
I
wondered if she was thinking what I was thinking. I was wishing that her mother
hadn’t come out onto the porch so soon.

5

CLARA

I sprinted downfield, dribbling the
ball in front of me.
 
As soon as Penny
was open, I kicked it diagonally for the set-up.
 
Running parallel to her, I waited.
 
Penny shot the ball at an angle toward me.
 
I made one long stride then smack—the ball
flew over the goalie’s head into the upper left pocket of the net.
 
Yes!

I screamed, elated with the first goal.
 
Penny ran over to me.

“Awesome moves, Clara.”

“You too.”

We high-fived then jogged back up
field.
 
A whistle blew.
 
The coach was waving in two substitutes for
us since we hadn’t had a break the whole game.

“Nice job, Dunaway and Blanchard!”
called the coach when we sat on the bench.

The air was cool, but my blood was
pumping feverishly.
 
I couldn’t bear to
sit idly on the bench.
 
Needing to pace,
I went to the cooler for water. I tried to catch my breath while gazing out
across the field at the bleachers.
 
I
loved a gathering of people—the colors of their energy auras made an ethereal
light.
 
The energy I gained from a crowd
made me almost giddy.
 
Although I’d never
seen the beauty of the Northern Lights, I knew that it must look just like
this.
 
Glancing over the crowd, I saw an
array of colored light—yellow and gold haloed several children; blues and
violets speckled over relaxed adults and one distracted grandmother; vibrant
orange and red spread over the passionate, shouting parents; and, many shades
of green sprinkled the rest.
 
But, there
was one in particular I was searching for.
 
And there he was.
 
Gabriel, who
radiated a rainbow of color, always drew my eye.
 

Lately, it was more than my eye that
was lured in by him.
 
Every waking
moment, I felt my heart tying itself to his.
 
Unwilling as I was to part with it, there was no denying whatever hold
he had over me.
 
I’d noticed him several
times before from across campus because of his bizarre aura, not to mention
that he was positively gorgeous.
 
Most
girls couldn’t help but notice him.
 
He
had that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on.
 
Except his eyes looked at you less like
Prince Charming and more like Count Dracula.
 
I had to admit, I couldn’t help but stare like the other girls.
 
But, it wasn’t until Mrs. Jaden’s first class
that I felt seriously attracted to him, like metal to a magnet.
 
From the second I glanced in his direction
and saw his multi-colored aura radiating over his head, shoulders, and along
the length of his body, I felt an inner tug, uncontrollable and fierce.
 
Never before had I felt such a connection
with anyone.
 
Perhaps, I sensed that if I
told him about my gift of seeing energy auras around people, I knew he wouldn’t
laugh.
 
Or, perhaps, I was just fooling
myself.
 
I only ever told one person—my
mother.

When I was five years old, my mother
had taken me to see Santa Claus in the shopping mall.
 
It was the first memory I had of seeing
auras.
 
From the moment I entered the
long corridor of bustling people, I began to feel a tingly elation from the
energy and all of the beautiful hues of color.

“Look, Mommy!
 
Look at all the lights!”

“Yes, Clara. The Christmas lights are
pretty,” Mom said to me, tugging me along, not getting my meaning at all.
 
If I was old enough to understand it, I
would’ve known that this event would mark the beginning of my rocky
relationship with her.

There was already a group of anxious
parents stacked in a winding line toward Santa’s throne at the center of the
mall.
 
Many mothers were fretting over
the curls and lace of their little darlings, wanting the picture to look just
right.
 
I smiled at the little blonde boy
in front of me with a mass of freckles dappling his nose and cheeks.
 
The blonde boy had been crying.
 
He forced a little smile back.
 
By the time we wound our way toward the front
where I could finally see Santa, I instantly clutched at my mother’s hand,
completely terrified of what I saw.

“Who’s that?” I whispered.

“That’s Santa, of course.
 
We’ve come to take your picture with him,
remember?”

I remember staring at the red-faced man
with a grizzled beard in a red suit.
 
I
shrank from him, because of the smoky bluish-gray aura hovering over his
head.
 
He looked like a red ghost, clouded
in mist.
 
It scared the heck out of me.

“No,” I whispered to my mom.

By now, the little blonde boy was being
placed on Santa’s lap.
 
He was telling
Santa that he wanted a Spider Man action figure for Christmas.
 
I watched as that smoky aura swirled
frighteningly around the little boy as if to smother him.
 
I pulled back on my mother’s hand.

“What is it, Clara?
 
It’s nothing to be afraid of.
 
I’m right here with you.”

“No,” I said defiantly.
 
“He’s got darkness over him.
 
No!”

“What are you talking about, Clara?”
she asked, looking around her embarrassingly.

“His halo is dark, Mommy,” I said, my
little voice shaking.
 
“I don’t want to
go.”

I looked up at Santa, who was now
waiting for me to approach the throne.
 
He had a look of total sadness in his eyes, which only increased my fear
of him.

“What do you mean?” demanded my
mother.
 
“We’ve come all this way in your
pretty new dress.”

“His light over him, Mommy, it’s dark,”
I repeated frantically.

“Hush, Clara!
 
There are no lights over him.”

“Yes.
 
Yes, there are.
 
I see them over
everyone, but his is bad.”

I remember watching as my mother’s aura
transformed from violet to orange to red, while I tugged away from her.

“What on earth are you talking
about?
 
No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!
 
I see lights over you now.
 
I see them everywhere!” I screamed,
completely panicked.

At this point, some of the parents and
their children had staggered out of the line to witness my meltdown at the head
of the row.
 
My mother suddenly jerked a
bit too hard on my arm.
 
I felt her nails
digging into the underside of my flesh. Her tone became stony, which was scary,
but still not as scary as the ghostly Santa.

“No, you don’t, Clara!
 
And, I don’t ever want to hear another word
about this again!
 
Do you understand me?”

I nodded my head tearfully as she spun
me around, leaving the sad-faced Santa gawking after us.

I kept my word and never mentioned the
halos of light to my mother again.
 
I did
try once to tell Dad.
 
He took me to the
planetarium when I was ten.
 
I loved our
little adventures to science and art museums.
 
Dad was adamant about education, and I liked the time with him.
 
We watched an awesome show about the
cosmos—all that mankind understands about the universe and all that is still a
mystery to us.
 
I became particularly
interested when the mellow voice of the broadcast speaker mentioned that the
electromagnetic energy produced by stars reflects off the planets and the moon,
making them glow with light in the darkness of space.
 
As we left the auditorium, I turned to my
father.

“Dad, do you think it’s possible for
some people to see human energy shining off of them like we can see energy in
space?”

“Well, now, Clara.
 
That’s more science fiction than it is
science.
 
Some people have claimed to see
such things, but I don’t believe it.
 
Where did you read about that?”

“Oh, just in some magazine.”

I closed the door on that conversation
quickly.
 
As soon as I knew his views on
the subject, I decided not to even try.
 
I already knew that my dad was a man of scientific fact, steeped in the
mindset of what can be proven and disproven.
 
There was no way to prove what I saw was actually real.
 
Knowing that he would only look at me with
disbelief and confusion if I confessed my gift to him, I decided to keep it to
myself.
 
It was easier to pretend to be
normal.
 
But, how I longed to share it
with someone.

Gabe waved at me when the coach put me
back into the game.
 
I felt a fluttering
in my stomach.
 
I could hear him cheering
enthusiastically above the others.
 

“Stay focused, stay focused,” I
whispered to myself.

I put all my energy into dribbling and
striking.
 
The opposing team had adjusted
their strategy now with a stronger defense against us.
 
I don’t remember where they were hiding this
Amazon girl, but their new blocker knocked the ball back every time it crossed
the center field line.
 
She was a
monster.
 
After what felt like an
eternity of trying to score with no success, the referee finally blew three
times, ending the game.
 
Both teams lined
up and we passed the opposing team’s line, high-fiving as we went.

Sweaty and breathless, I grabbed my
gear and headed toward Gabe who was standing with Ben and Zack.
 
His colorful aura blazoned brightly from head
to toe.
 
I couldn’t help but smile as I
walked up to him.

“Hi,” I said with what I knew was a
silly grin on my face.

I couldn’t wipe it off.

“Hi,” he said.

“Y’all are all finished?” I asked.

“No, we’re still playing, Clara,” said
Ben.
 
“I’m actually a hologram of
Ben.
 
Gabe didn’t want you to feel
unloved or anything, so he had a virtual copy of us put here to cheer you on.”

I rolled my eyes.
 
Gabe just took my hand and headed for the
car, ignoring his best friend’s jabs at me.

“You look so real,” I said, teasingly
to Ben.

I reached out and poked him in the arm.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Ben with that
goofy smile of his.

“Well, virtual Ben, did you win your
game?” I asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact we did,
thanks to Zack, who completely shut down the Hornets with his awesome goalie
skills.”

Zack smiled modestly as we walked
along.
 
I liked Zack.
 
He was a nice guy.