Paige hadn’t come up to see her and Lara considered that one small blessing, at least. She’d half-expected Marc to blurt out everything that he’d seen to Paige and Tim, but he hadn’t said a word about Kabran to them. He was waiting to talk to her about it, Lara realized.
But what could she say to him? She hardly even knew anything, herself. And, really, it was none of his business anyways. She somehow felt that this ghost was hers. Kabran had showed himself and he’d spoken only to her. He was her mystery and her miracle. Talking to Marc about the ghost would ruin that. He’d probably rationalize what they’d each seen and his logic would extinguish the only spark that Lara had felt since the car crash.
She saw his truck pull into the driveway and her body went rigid. He looked up to her window as he walked towards the front door and neither of them smiled. She knew that she wasn’t ready for this.
When Marc softly knocked on her door, Lara told him to come in without getting up from her perch by the window. She set the cool, wet bag of peas down next to her.
“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Lara answered warily.
“Here,” Marc said, handing her a small plastic bag. Opening it, Lara saw that it was filled with several bottles of foundation and compacts of face powder. “I, uh, didn’t know which would match your skin,” he explained.
“Don’t shop for makeup often?”
“Oh no, it totally clogs my pores.” His tone was so serious that it was a second before Lara realized that he was kidding. A laugh almost escaped her before she made the effort to quash it.
There were both quiet then and Lara stared down at the plastic bag, afraid to look at him. The silence stretched and she felt itchy and awkward, feeling Marc’s eyes on her.
She couldn’t take it any more. “Why don’t you just ask?”
“Ask what?”
Lara looked up. He was standing only a few feet away, his hands casually slipped into the pockets of his jeans. She tried to find some sign in his posture or his gaze, something that would tell her how much he’d seen, how much he’d assumed, how much he’d explained away.
“Ask about what happened…” she murmured, making some vague gesture to the bruise on her face.
“Would you answer me if I did?”
She glanced away and shrugged. She honestly didn’t know.
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly.
Even though his tone was sympathetic, his words struck Lara as complacent and she bristled. “You don’t know me, Marc,” she snapped. “You just met me yesterday.”
“Well it was enough time to figure out that the harder someone pushes you, the harder you push back.”
Lara laughed humorlessly. “Would you mind telling Paige that?”
“Oh, that’s a lost cause,” Marc said as he sat down on Lara’s bed. “She’ll always be an intrusive, overprotective mother. I don’t think anything can change that.”
“But she doesn’t have any kids.”
“No. She couldn’t. That’s what my mom said, at least.”
“Your mother?”
“Oh yeah,” Marc explained. “She and Paige are pretty good friends. That’s how I started working here. I could’ve been making more money stacking produce at the grocery store, but my mom sort of offered up my services to Tim and Paige.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
“No, not really. I’ve learned a lot. And now I can impress girls with my extensive knowledge of home improvement.”
Lara gave him a wry smile. “How is that working out for you?”
“Not that well so far,” Marc admitted with a blush. “So I guess it’s a good thing that I’ve got killer biceps.”
The laugh burst out of her, catching her off guard and that helped keep the guilt at bay. It was the look in Marc’s eyes, in the end, that quieted her. “What?” she asked self-consciously.
“Nothing. It’s just that you have a nice laugh.”
“Oh,” Lara said awkwardly. “Thanks. But I shouldn’t be doing it.” She felt her own eyes widen at the sound of her words. She meant them, of course, but she hadn’t meant to say them aloud.
“Because of your parents?”
She nodded.
“You know what sucks? In spite of all of your best intentions, you’re going to laugh. You’re alive and you’re human and you won’t be able to help it. You can’t focus on the pain all of the time.”
“Watch me,” she whispered bitterly.
They were quiet for a while before Marc broke the silence. “When my dad left, I got into a lot of fights.” He leaned back on his elbows on the bed. “I was just so pissed off, all the time. I’d pick fights with guys at school just so that I’d have a reason to punch them.”
“Sounds fun,” Lara said faintly. It was hard to picture that this calm, confident boy could possess that kind of anger. The image that came into her mind was actually of the ghost and the way he looked last night, just before he hit her.
Marc rolled his eyes. “It was at the time, but it didn’t do much good. It took me three suspensions before I finally figured that out. Well, more like three suspensions, five detentions, a several dozen lectures from my mother and teachers, a few thousand dollars in therapy…and a partridge in a pear tree.” He shrugged a little. “I still hate my father, though. Probably always will.”
He trailed off, then, and seemed to slip into his own thoughts. She had the feeling that he’d been trying to tell her something, but had lost the thread along the way. “Were you going somewhere with this?” she asked, bewilderedly.
“No, not really.”
Lara shook her head. “You’re really strange, do you know that?”
He gave her a brilliant smile. “Sure, but I’m a strange guy with a knowledge of home improvement and killer biceps.”
“Do you need me to leave you alone with your biceps for a while?” she teased him.
“Actually, I have a better idea,” he said, sitting back up.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
Marc grinned. “I was just going to ask if you wanted to go out with me later tonight. One of my friends is having a party…it would be a chance for you to meet some people, have some fun.”
Lara’s stomach turned with anxiety. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m just not ready. And with this,” she pointed to the bruise on her face, “I doubt I’ll make a good impression on anyone.”
“Okay. How about tomorrow night, then?”
She couldn’t hide her smile. “What happened to knowing that the harder you push me, the harder I’ll push back?” she asked.
“I’m not pushing. I’m just asking. Besides, perseverance is a virtue.”
She looked down at her lap. “Why are you asking me? You don’t even know me,” she reminded him again.
“No,” he conceded. “But you’re interesting. You’re complicated. And you’re gorgeous. Maybe I just think that it would be nice to know you better.”
Lara flushed. “Even with…” She faltered, not knowing how to bring up what had happened in the hallway earlier. “Even with the weirdness,” she finished clumsily.
Marc laughed. “That’s all part of the allure,” he said flirtatiously.
“You really are strange.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
She sighed. “It’s a yes, I guess…”
“Great. Tonight or tomorrow night?”
Lara hesitated. If she went with him to the party, she’d be surrounded by people and she’d be forced to conjure up something of a personality for them. If she went out with Marc alone…well she didn’t know what would happen, but the thought made her feel vaguely claustrophobic. Whenever she was with him, he saw right through her and she could only take feeling that vulnerable for so long.
“Tonight. Let’s go to the party.”
She wasn’t sure what to expect as Marc pulled over to the side of a narrow road and parked behind a line of cars. When she opened the door and slid out of the truck, she could hear the music coming from a large house that was still too far away to make out through the trees in the dark. The bass was already pulsing through her.
“Don’t the neighbors complain about the noise?” she asked Marc as they started to walk towards the party.
“The closest neighbor is about a mile back down the road,” he explained.
“Oh,” Lara said. She felt a strange chill at the thought of being so isolated here.
She checked to make sure that the bruise on her face was still smeared with foundation and cover up. Lara didn’t have much experience with makeup, but she thought that she’d done a good job hiding the damage. Paige hadn’t even noticed that anything was wrong. But Lara couldn’t stop fussing with it, testing the bruise, poking and prodding it.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Marc asked her.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, forcing her hands away from her face and into the pockets of her jeans. She gave him what she hoped was a steady smile.
The truth was that she’d rather run the other direction, letting the woods take her in, than subject herself to the garish glow of the black lights or Christmas lights that seemed to be so popular at high school and college parties. She wanted the quiet, she wanted oblivion. But she’d chosen to come to the party for exactly that reason. If she’d decided to go out with Marc alone, he would want to talk and he’d force her to be present. Lara knew that it would be far easier to escape into silence and anonymity if she was around other people. She could seep into the background.
Instead of going through the front door of the house, Marc led Lara directly around the side of the house and into the backyard. There were more people here than she’d expected, gathered in clumps around each other or around the keg of beer. She actually froze in place and Marc had to tug on her arm to keep her moving.
A shorter, stocky guy came up to them. “Holte!” he greeted Marc. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Hey, Greg,” Marc said. “You think I’d pass up the opportunity to help trash your house?”
“No, no, I’ve got it all figured out this time. The party is all outside, so there’s nothing to destroy. The cleanup will be easier and my parents will never find out.”
“Except that the lawn is getting trampled,” Marc pointed out. “It’ll be hard to fix that.”
The stocky guy, Greg, looked around and realized that Marc was right. “Ah, damn it,” he cursed. “Oh well. Might as well enjoy the fun while I still can. I’ll probably be grounded for the next decade once my parents get back. You want a beer?”
“No, thanks,” Marc replied. Then he turned to Lara. “How about you?”
She just shook her head.
“Hey, who’s that?” Greg asked, noticing Lara for the first time. His eyes immediately fell to her chest. “Are you holding out on me, Holte?”
Marc introduced them. “She just moved here,” he told his friend.
“Nice to meet you,” Greg said. “You’ll be going to high school here, then?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Cool. I just graduated, but there are a lot of people around who will be juniors or seniors in the fall.”
“Oh, okay.” Lara didn’t know what else to say. It felt like she’d lost all of her social skills when her parents died. She’d never been at such a loss for words in her life.
Marc noticed her discomfort. “Come on,” he said, taking hold of her elbow. “I’ll introduce you to some more people.”
Lara turned to go as Marc nodded goodbye to his friend.
They went from group to group and Lara heard more names and shook more hands than she could possibly remember. They stayed for a while in each cluster and Marc kept the conversation going when Lara started to falter. He was charming and funny in the strange way that she’d begun to appreciate, and she couldn’t help but notice the way that most of the girls looked at him. A few of them flirted with him shamelessly, but Marc seemed oblivious to it.
She tried to stay involved in the conversations, but after a while, she faded out and began to watch the people that passed by. They were all excited and loud, obviously having a good time. And it was hard for Lara to believe that these kids were her peers. She just felt so old. How was she going to make it through the next year, a withered thing amongst such inane vivacity?
The stories and words started to spiral together. John plays lacrosse (“You should come watch a game.”), Carrie is in the orchestra, Ann is the math wiz (“Are you taking calculus in the fall?”), Jess is on the debate team, George is the class clown, Andrew is the class president, Lynette is a whore (“That bitch stole my boyfriend!”), Jason is a player (“Don’t trust a word he says.”), Melissa runs the Best Buddies club (“You should totally join!”), Sean works over at the community center after school, Beth’s dad can get tickets to any concert (“Oh my god, we all got to see Coldplay last winter.”), Joe, Hallie, Bob, Danielle, soccer, honors societies, wind ensembles, AP Chemistry…
Who the fuck even cares!! Do you think any of this even matters? Don’t you know that your entire life can be obliterated at any moment? Don’t you know that the people you love are dying with each passing second? You stupid, ignorant, petty—
Lara felt like she was on the brink of snapping from the absurdity of it all when she suddenly felt like she was being watched. She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes met his across the crowd. The rush of relief she felt was confounding.
He was still wearing the black clothing that she’d seen the night before and Lara wondered if it was even possible for him to look different. His smile was lecherous and it made her flush. She remembered how his lips had felt on hers, how softly he’d touched her face and the memory was so vivid that it sent a jolt through her.
Marc felt it. He looked at her sharply. “Are you okay?”
Lara looked back at him and smiled placidly. “Fine,” she replied, her voice hardly sounding like her own. “But I think that I need to sit down.”
Abandoning the crowd, he led her over to the far side of the yard. She sat down by the patio table, grateful to get away from the music and the noise. Marc sat next to her and reached out to touch the hand that she’d rested on the table.
“Hey, I’m kind of thirsty,” she said, pulling back. “Could you get me a drink? Soda or something?”
“Sure.” He got up and walked back towards the party.
Lara leaned over and rested her head on the cool, glass tabletop. She sighed tiredly.
“Alone at last,” a voice purred. She sat up to find Kabran sitting in Marc’s chair. And she felt it again—that sense of relief. From the aching weariness in his dark eyes, she knew that he understood her exhaustion and how disconnected she felt from the kids here. It disturbed her.
“Not for long,” she said. “He’ll be back in a minute. You’d better go.”
His cold fingers reached out and combed through her hair. “I just got here. You wanted this time with me.”
“I didn’t,” she protested weakly.
“Why else would you have sent him away? You knew I’d come to you.”
His words made her uneasy, so she tried to veer away from that subject. “He’s seen you, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kabran said softly. He played with a few strands of her hair, and the tiny tugs sent a shiver through her. “He can’t stand in my way.”
“What do you want?” she asked him again, realizing that he hadn’t answered the question last night.
“Isn’t it obvious, angel?” he asked. His fingers slid through her hair, grasping the back of her neck, drawing her to him. His voice fell to a whisper. “I want you.”
Lara leaned in of her own volition and she knew that the ghost had been right. She’d wanted this moment with him. She’d sent Marc away specifically for this. God, what was wrong with her? She didn’t care. She only knew that she needed Kabran now. She’d spent this whole night among kids that couldn’t understand, would never understand, what she’d been through. But she’d seen the pain so like her own in this ghost last night and she needed this moment of solace with him.
His lips were cold against hers, but still something solid to cling to. He held her to him with one hand and the other trailed to her forearm, his fingernails digging into her skin. Oh, that hurt, even more than when she did it to herself. It hurt almost as much as her mother’s nails had, drawing blood as she’d grasped Lara’s arm in fear and agony. "Don't let me die, Larissa. I don't want to die."
She pulled back from Kabran abruptly, gasping for breath. The blood dripped down her arm, the way that it had the night of the accident. What the hell?
“Did I strike a nerve, angel?” he asked.
“How did you know about…”
“Your mother?” he finished for her. “The way that you cut yourself with your own nails, just so that you can feel a connection to her again?”
Lara couldn’t answer. She was too angry, too frightened, too ashamed.
“I saw it happen,” Kabran told her. “I watched the accident, angel.”
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Since the moment I found you again.”
“Again?”
His dark eyes searched her face, as if he were trying to memorize it. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? That golden boy of yours, that Adonis, doesn’t deserve such beauty. He could never understand…”
“Don’t change the subject,” she snapped. “What did you mean about finding me again?”
The ghost smiled slyly. “It appears we’re out of time…for now.”
“Wait,” Lara pleaded. But she watched helplessly as the ghost faded into empty space.
“Hey,” Marc said, starling her as he approached from behind. “I got you some Coke from the only bottle that hadn’t been spiked with rum yet.”
He held a blue, plastic cup out to her, but she didn’t take it. She just stared at the chair where Kabran had been sitting, breathing hard.
“Your arm,” Marc gasped, setting the cup on the table. Lara numbly looked down at the blood that was welling up from the crescent-shaped cuts and spilling across her skin.
Marc pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you clean up.”
He led her into the house through a sliding glass door that opened into the kitchen. Carefully, he washed the cuts in the sink and then held a paper towel against her arm. The warmth of his hand on her made her eyes sting.
Don’t cry…
“Talk to me, Lara,” he said suddenly. “You’re scaring me.”
She looked up at him and the concern in his green eyes hurt her. “Could you take me back to my aunt’s house?” she whispered.
She could see him trying to restrain his frustration, his impatience. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Let’s go.”
A huge thanks to my first two reviewers..
Rhithedwarf: Yeah, this is a supernatural story, but I’m definitely trying to work a little bit of romance into the darkness. Is Kabran evil or crazy? Who says he can’t be both?
S.S. Dailey: Thanks very much!
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