The Hidden (8 page)

Caspian nodded sympathetically.

“What was it like when you died?” I said suddenly. “I know you told me what happened right after your car crash, but did you feel any pain?”

He sat up straighter and glanced down at his hands. “Abbey, I—”

“Please? Please tell me? I want to know if … if I’m ready.”

“You can’t
be
ready,” he said with an exasperated look on his face. “No one is.”

“I know, but I can try to prepare. Right? At least be more
ready than the average person who doesn’t know it’s coming.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Set your affairs in order? Write notes to your family?”

“Maybe I am,” I said. “So?”

“So don’t you think that might freak them out? If you start giving them ‘Dear Mom and Dad, I won’t be alive much longer’ letters, they might think you’re going crazy.”

“It’s not like I’m going to give it to them
now
. Just, you know … Get them ready. For after.”

He shook his head. “It’s not healthy, Abbey.”

“Why? What’s so unhealthy about it? How different is it from someone knowing that they have a terminal illness and getting everything ready for when they pass on?”

“It’s just different. You’re not sick,” he said.

“But I am. I’m terminal.”

“No. You’re not. You have no idea when—”

“But I do!” I exploded. “I
do
know, Caspian. I know I’m going to die soon, and there’s nothing that I can do to stop that. So why can’t you just support me on this?”

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “I just can’t.” He let out a shaky breath. “If the situation were reversed, you’d feel the same way.”

“
I
would support you in anything you wanted to do. I’d help you do it.”

“Why?” he asked suddenly.

His question threw me off guard. “Because I love you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want us to be together.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to have the one person who makes everything around you come to life start talking about her death,” he said. “It’s just …” He spread his hands and looked at them. “I don’t even know how to describe it. But to know that you’re talking about being like me, like
this
…” He clenched a hand into a fist. “How can I want that for you? You’re beauty and light and color and smell, and I’m darkness and ash and shadows and death. Cold and alone.”

“But you won’t
be
alone. Don’t you see that? We’ll be together. And then it won’t matter about everything else, as long as we’re together.”

“Is that the only reason you want to be with me, Abbey? So I’m not alone? It’s different. Different from anything you can ever imagine. What if it’s not what you think it is? What if you come to regret losing the chance you had at life? The chance to be surrounded by the people you love?”

“
You’re
the person I love,” I insisted. “All I need.”

“What about your shop? What about Abbey’s Hollow? The opportunities you’ll miss to go to Paris and study with the artists there. Or London, to go on shopping trips to buy new bottles
or perfume supplies. Are you so ready to give up that dream?”

I didn’t know what to say. Did he have a point? There was still so much I wanted to do. To accomplish. Could that change? Would
I
change? What if I came to resent him for not having had any of the things I’d wanted in life?

“That’s not going to happen,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

His eyes seemed to see straight into my soul, down to my deepest thoughts, and I squirmed uncomfortably.

“I’m not saying that I won’t regret not having the chance to open Abbey’s Hollow,” I said slowly. “But how do you know what I will or won’t be able to experience once I’m with you? Maybe there’s a perfume shop somewhere on the other side that needs an owner.” I made a halfhearted attempt at a smile.

“For your sake, I hope so.” He smiled back. “But for now … just live the life you have, okay? Don’t become fatalistic. Don’t try to set everything up for your end days. Just enjoy the here and now.”

“I will,” I promised, and he looked relieved.

We sat in silence, the moon shining through the clouds and peeking into the bedroom as it played hide and seek behind them. “I don’t want to go back to sleep,” I finally murmured. “I don’t want to dream.”

“I can help with that.” The bed shifted and he got up, moving toward my bookshelf. A moment later he returned. In his hand was my battered copy of
Jane Eyre
.

“A book?” I said happily, moving the pillows behind me so that I could be propped up.

“Something else to think about.” He sat down and opened to the first page. “‘Chapter One. There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering—’”

“You’re going to
read
to me?” I asked, interrupting him. I couldn’t help the giddy note that had crept into my voice.

“Yes, but be quiet now, my
bella
.”

“What does that mean?”

“‘Beautiful.’”

That word. The way he’d said it triggered a memory. “Did you speak to me in a different language? When I was in the hospital?”

Caspian nodded. “Something to keep the nightmares at bay. To let you know I was there.
Tu sei una stella … la mia stella
,” he said. “It means ‘You’re a star. My star.’”

“What language is that?”

“Italian.”

I leaned forward and propped my chin on my fist. “I didn’t know that you knew Italian. Are you holding out on me?”

“It was just something I remembered from middle school. I took Italian from sixth grade through eighth.” He looked at me sternly. “Now, are you going to let me finish?”

I zipped a finger across my lips and threw away the imaginary key.

“Chapter One,” he said. And he began to read.

The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation, just at the foot of a woody hill …

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

I
spent the next day working on Beth’s perfume, while Caspian sat at my desk, drawing. Mom came in after dinner, asking if she should make me a lunch for tomorrow.

“What are you talking about, Mom?” I said. “What’s tomorrow?”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “The first day of school, silly. Are you feeling okay?” She frowned and reached out a hand to feel my forehead.

School.
Crap
. I ducked out of her way. “I’m fine, Mom. I just forgot. Whatever you want to make is fine.” I’d probably end up just buying something from the cafeteria, but if Mom wanted
to make herself feel better by putting together a lunch, that was fine with me.

“I’ll make you a hoagie,” she decided. “Italian?”

“Sounds good.” I gave her a wide grin and kept the smile on my face until she left. As soon as she was gone, I dragged over a giant stuffed beanbag chair from my closet and sat it next to Caspian. “I can’t believe school starts tomorrow,” I said, flopping into it. “Who starts school on a Friday? Why not wait until Monday?”

“Are you ready to go back?” he asked.

I shifted, and the chair made a squishy sound as the stuffing moved around. “I guess. I mean, I’m not exactly looking forward to it. Exams. Homework. Everyone trying to cram college stuff down my throat.” I shrugged.

“It’s the last first day of high school you’ll ever have.”

“In more ways than one.” I glanced over at him, but he scowled.

“I meant because of the fact that you’re a senior. Not because—”

“Because of the fact that I’ll be dead?”

“God, Abbey.” He pushed back his paper and stood up from the desk, looking upset. “Can’t we have just one conversation where that doesn’t come up?”

I looked down at my jeans. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t mean to. It just seems like that’s all you can talk about lately.”

“I’m sorry. I just want to be ready.”

“I need to go for a walk,” he said suddenly, moving to the door.

Panic shot through me. Why was he leaving? Should I tell him no, that I needed him to stay? Or would that make me look weak? I finally settled on, “How are you going to get out? You can’t just open the front door and leave that way. My parents are down there.”

Caspian stopped pacing and looked at the window. “Will you leave it open for me?” he asked, gesturing to it.

I nodded. And bit my lip, trying not to cry.

He went to open it, and hooked one leg outside. I turned back to my desk.
Everyone needs their space. Don’t be a baby.

“Abbey,” Caspian said softly. So softly that I almost didn’t hear him. “Love.”

I turned my head.

“I’m not mad. I want you to know that, okay? I’ll come back in a little bit, I swear. I’m just going for a walk. That’s all.”

I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded again, and then he left.

It was fine. No big deal.

When I woke to Mom’s voice calling up the stairs that it was time for me to get up, I noticed immediately that Caspian was back. He was sitting there on the bed, next to me.

I sat up quickly and tried not to act too relieved.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t make it back before you fell asleep.”

“That’s okay. I’m just so glad you came back.” The words spilled out of me, and I glanced down at the sheets, incredibly embarrassed that I’d just said that.

“I told you I would.”

“What took so long?”

“I ran into Uri at the cemetery. We decided to see if Vincent might be hiding out there.”

I got up and stretched my arms above my head, then went over to the bathroom. “No luck, huh?”

“None yet.”

Grabbing a towel, I turned to shut the door behind me. “Going to take a shower,” I said. “See you in twenty.”

“Let me know if you need me to do any back scrubbing,” he called through the door.

I just laughed. “You wish.”

Thirty minutes later, I was clean and dressed. “Are you sure this looks okay?” I asked, turning to Caspian. “I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

I smoothed down the edges of my white shirt and readjusted the black vest I’d thrown over it. My four-leaf clover
necklace was the last touch, and I re-knotted the ribbon at the back of my neck to make sure it stayed put.

“I’m not a fashion guy, but you look great to me.”

I smiled at him and slid my book bag onto my shoulder. Mom yelled for me to hurry, that we were leaving in five minutes, but suddenly I was loathe to leave Caspian behind. “Who needs school?” I said. “I can just stay here. With you.”

He pointed to the door. “
Go
. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

I plodded slowly out of the room. He followed after me, and I turned back. Reaching out a hand, he cupped my face. Or as close to it as he could.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

I nuzzled my cheek into the low buzz. “Me too.”

I picked up my necklace and kissed one side of the smooth, cold plated glass, then held it up to him. He kissed the same spot, letting it linger at his lips for a moment. When he returned it to me, I touched it gently.

I pulled away from him after one last call from Mom, then reluctantly trudged down the stairs.

Senior year started off with a bang. Literally. Someone’s car backfired in the parking lot right after Mom dropped me off,
and half the students that had been milling around went running and screaming that someone was outside shooting. The whole school was put on lockdown, and we didn’t get to home-room until after lunch.

After the situation was settled, and our lockers were assigned (which is pretty much a joke since we all end up with the same locker year after year), I stood twirling my padlock and staring into the teeny, tiny space my stuff would call home for the next nine months, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” a voice said. “I need to get in there. I don’t think the bell is going to hold off much longer. And while I’m normally cool with just hanging out, the hallway isn’t my first choice of places to do that.”

When I turned around to find bright green eyes, I paused in the middle of saying “Yeah?” to think about Caspian for a moment.
I wonder what he’s doing. Is time going fast for him again? Or slowly, since he’s awake? Or is he even awake? Maybe he’s sleeping.

Hair was the second thing I saw. Her hair was long, even longer than my own, but not quite as curly. And red. Impossibly red. I snapped back to reality. “Oh! Sorry. You need me to move?” I glanced around. “Where?”

She looked down at a piece of paper clutched in one hand. “I’m 9-C. So I need to get in right there. Beside you.”

My stomach dropped to the floor, and my book bag slid out of my grip, spewing books everywhere. “Beside …” My throat seized up, and I coughed. “Beside me?”

She shifted her books, and something else she was holding. Something that I couldn’t get a glimpse of. “Yeah. Beside you. That’s how numbers work here, right? You’re 9-B, so 9-C comes next, right?”

“But that’s Kristen’s locker.”

“It’s already taken? Shit.”

I shook my head. And then found my voice. “It’s not. Taken, I mean. Kristen’s dead. It was just … It used to be her locker.”