Sublime
Page 24
The shift change at work is silent outside his door, and the only indication that time has passed is the appearance of an unfamiliar gray-haired nurse materializing at his side and recording his vitals.
She runs her hand along the IV tubing, checking for kinks. “I’m Linda. I do hospice in town, and came in to give Maggie a break. How’s your pain?”
“Better. Around a three.” Colin stretches, reaching to push the button at the side of the bed that helps him sit up.
“That your girlfriend in the hallway? The brunette? Tall as a tree, but skinny?”
Colin’s monitor picks up, and the nurse glances at it. Brunette. “Yes,” he says. “Can I see her?”
She smiles over the top of her clipboard. “I was told you were to rest.”
He stares at her, trying as hard as he can to silently communicate that she should let Lucy in. That he won’t tell anyone.
She starts to leave and then pauses at the door, looking back over her shoulder. “Thirty minutes.”
“Thirty,” he repeats in a burst. “I promise. Thank you.”
Pale yellow light bleeds into the room as she slips out, and he counts to eighty-three before the door opens again and Lucy steps in.
“Colin?” she whispers.
He scoots over to make room for her on the bed. “I’m awake.”
The air stirs as she moves next to him, and the mattress dips surprisingly under her added weight. They sit side by side, stiff and silent. Colin has no idea where to start asking about the world he saw, what he felt, whether any of it was real.
“Are you okay?” she asks finally.
“I think so. Are you?”
She nods. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Was it real?”
She studies him, but doesn’t seem to need him to explain more. “I think so.”
Colin can feel his fingers grow clammy. It would be so much easier to explain if it happened only in his mind. “The world didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen before. It was bright, and . . . like there were more layers to everything. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’d never seen color like that. And you . . .” He glances up to her quickly. “I felt you, Luce. I mean, we were the same.”
The memories fill his thoughts slowly, slithering in: icicles hanging from silvery branches, leaves greener than a December day has ever seen, a shimmering crystal-blue sky wrapping through it all. It’s a world worthy of a dream.
Her eyes darken, mocha swirling into burgundy. “What was it like to go in?” she asks hesitantly.
Only a few fragments before he fell in are clear. “I noticed a puddle of water on the ice right before it cracked,” he says. “But it was already too late. How is any of it possible, Lucy? Did I die?”
She reaches for his hand, and it surprises him how strong she feels. “I don’t know.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and he leans back, closing his eyes. Colin feels tired and sore, but mostly he feels like he does after a really long ride with a couple hard falls. The idea of falling in a frozen lake used to seem so extreme; it makes him wonder why he’s not in rougher shape.
They don’t talk about what it was like to finally feel each other for the first time. He doesn’t tell her about Maggie’s warning, and he doesn’t tell her that even when he realized what was happening, it never occurred to him to worry he might die.
He certainly doesn’t tell her how badly he wants to go back under.
Chapter 20 HER
COLIN IS HELD IN THE INFIRMARY THE NEXT day, and Lucy walks back through campus, feeling increasingly untethered with each passing step.
Warnings haunt her. Two people now have seen Lucy and reacted as if she were anything but good.
They always take someone with them. Try not to, Lucy. Go take your haunting somewhere else.
The words, delivered with such certainty, taste all wrong in Lucy’s thoughts. Where would she take Colin even if she could? How could she possibly take her “haunting” somewhere else when she can’t even manage to pass through the school’s iron gates?
She walks away from the buildings, down the long gravel road leading toward the majestic stone buildings. Even out of her sight, they feel just as imposing. Her anchor is this school, these grounds, and—most of all—that boy lying bruised and broken in the infirmary.
Lucy presses her hand to the cold iron gates and then leans forward, resting her forehead there too. Objectively, it’s cold. The cold takes over every inch of her skin, and yet it’s completely without discomfort. No sensation in the world registers above the memory of feeling Colin the day before.
Warm skin, the wet of his lips, and the ache for more in every one of his sounds. Being with Colin like that was how she always hoped it would feel. Being with him in his human body and her ghost one felt like trying to mix ice and fire.
It’s about more than feeling him, though. It’s about the depth of her wanting. She wants him. There’s a small, hollow void, even when she’s right beside him, and it’s because they truly know nothing: not why she’s there, how long she’ll be back, or even why she disappeared two weeks ago. How much time do they have together? Weeks? Months? A year? Is she here only to be near him and enjoy him, or is she here to make up for some sin in her human life?
Footsteps crunch on the gravel on the other side of the gate, and Lucy opens her eyes, taking a surprised step backward when she sees Maggie heading in to work.
“Trying to leave?” Maggie asks, eyes narrowed. Lucy’s ingrained manners battle with her frustration. She remembers the way the world seemed to snap like a rubber band when she’d tried to walk through the gate and how she ended up right back where she’d started. “I’m guessing you know I can’t.”
Maggie’s laugh comes out sharp. “I was hoping it would be different for you.” She studies Lucy for a beat. “What are you doing out here, girl?”
“I’m thinking,” Lucy answers, defensive. “I’m out for a walk. I’m worried for Colin, and I’m confused.”
“I’m sure you are. Can’t find it in me to be sympathetic, though.”
Lucy feels a bit like an amnesia victim who has woken to discover she’s committed some great, secret crime. She’d happily avoid being horrible if only someone would tell her how. “Why weren’t you surprised to see me? Everyone else who works here, I mean those who even bother to really look at me, act like I’m something to fear. You basically shooed me out with a broom.”
“I suppose fear is how most people react to seeing a ghost.” Maggie’s answer is so matter of fact that Lucy feels her exasperation boil up inside. But Maggie holds up a hand to keep her from responding. “I was new here when you died. It wasn’t that long ago, girl. Dot, Joe, all of them knew you as a student and still aren’t sure if they believe you’re the same girl. I tried to tell them the first time that ghosts come back to this place, but until you, no one seemed to want to believe me.” “What ghost was here before?”
“No way,” Maggie says, shaking her head. “I’m not going down that road with you.”
Lucy watches her, seeing a trace of vulnerability beneath the stern surface. “Then at least tell me why we come back.”
This time, Maggie laughs. “I suspect you’re here for that boy. He’s like a magnet for you.”
“Why is that a bad thing?”
Narrowing her eyes, Maggie says, “Don’t know exactly why it’s him you need. I wish I did, Lucy. But you think long and hard about how you felt when you saw Colin lying in the hospital bed. Were you relieved he was safe? Or disappointed you didn’t kill him?”
It’s too much. The nurse has crossed a line, and no matter how much Lucy wants to understand, horror and rage course through her so quickly that she turns, walking toward campus without another word. She doesn’t look back to see, but she’s almost certain she hears the rattling of the gate behind her.
Kill him? How could Maggie even suggest it? Lucy is the one who pulled Colin from the water, who ran to find help. Maggie herself admitted that she didn’t know everything, but even knowing something is a lot farther along than where Lucy is. She only knows that she is falling for Colin and will do anything to not disappear again.
She runs her hand along the IV tubing, checking for kinks. “I’m Linda. I do hospice in town, and came in to give Maggie a break. How’s your pain?”
“Better. Around a three.” Colin stretches, reaching to push the button at the side of the bed that helps him sit up.
“That your girlfriend in the hallway? The brunette? Tall as a tree, but skinny?”
Colin’s monitor picks up, and the nurse glances at it. Brunette. “Yes,” he says. “Can I see her?”
She smiles over the top of her clipboard. “I was told you were to rest.”
He stares at her, trying as hard as he can to silently communicate that she should let Lucy in. That he won’t tell anyone.
She starts to leave and then pauses at the door, looking back over her shoulder. “Thirty minutes.”
“Thirty,” he repeats in a burst. “I promise. Thank you.”
Pale yellow light bleeds into the room as she slips out, and he counts to eighty-three before the door opens again and Lucy steps in.
“Colin?” she whispers.
He scoots over to make room for her on the bed. “I’m awake.”
The air stirs as she moves next to him, and the mattress dips surprisingly under her added weight. They sit side by side, stiff and silent. Colin has no idea where to start asking about the world he saw, what he felt, whether any of it was real.
“Are you okay?” she asks finally.
“I think so. Are you?”
She nods. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Was it real?”
She studies him, but doesn’t seem to need him to explain more. “I think so.”
Colin can feel his fingers grow clammy. It would be so much easier to explain if it happened only in his mind. “The world didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen before. It was bright, and . . . like there were more layers to everything. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’d never seen color like that. And you . . .” He glances up to her quickly. “I felt you, Luce. I mean, we were the same.”
The memories fill his thoughts slowly, slithering in: icicles hanging from silvery branches, leaves greener than a December day has ever seen, a shimmering crystal-blue sky wrapping through it all. It’s a world worthy of a dream.
Her eyes darken, mocha swirling into burgundy. “What was it like to go in?” she asks hesitantly.
Only a few fragments before he fell in are clear. “I noticed a puddle of water on the ice right before it cracked,” he says. “But it was already too late. How is any of it possible, Lucy? Did I die?”
She reaches for his hand, and it surprises him how strong she feels. “I don’t know.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and he leans back, closing his eyes. Colin feels tired and sore, but mostly he feels like he does after a really long ride with a couple hard falls. The idea of falling in a frozen lake used to seem so extreme; it makes him wonder why he’s not in rougher shape.
They don’t talk about what it was like to finally feel each other for the first time. He doesn’t tell her about Maggie’s warning, and he doesn’t tell her that even when he realized what was happening, it never occurred to him to worry he might die.
He certainly doesn’t tell her how badly he wants to go back under.
Chapter 20 HER
COLIN IS HELD IN THE INFIRMARY THE NEXT day, and Lucy walks back through campus, feeling increasingly untethered with each passing step.
Warnings haunt her. Two people now have seen Lucy and reacted as if she were anything but good.
They always take someone with them. Try not to, Lucy. Go take your haunting somewhere else.
The words, delivered with such certainty, taste all wrong in Lucy’s thoughts. Where would she take Colin even if she could? How could she possibly take her “haunting” somewhere else when she can’t even manage to pass through the school’s iron gates?
She walks away from the buildings, down the long gravel road leading toward the majestic stone buildings. Even out of her sight, they feel just as imposing. Her anchor is this school, these grounds, and—most of all—that boy lying bruised and broken in the infirmary.
Lucy presses her hand to the cold iron gates and then leans forward, resting her forehead there too. Objectively, it’s cold. The cold takes over every inch of her skin, and yet it’s completely without discomfort. No sensation in the world registers above the memory of feeling Colin the day before.
Warm skin, the wet of his lips, and the ache for more in every one of his sounds. Being with Colin like that was how she always hoped it would feel. Being with him in his human body and her ghost one felt like trying to mix ice and fire.
It’s about more than feeling him, though. It’s about the depth of her wanting. She wants him. There’s a small, hollow void, even when she’s right beside him, and it’s because they truly know nothing: not why she’s there, how long she’ll be back, or even why she disappeared two weeks ago. How much time do they have together? Weeks? Months? A year? Is she here only to be near him and enjoy him, or is she here to make up for some sin in her human life?
Footsteps crunch on the gravel on the other side of the gate, and Lucy opens her eyes, taking a surprised step backward when she sees Maggie heading in to work.
“Trying to leave?” Maggie asks, eyes narrowed. Lucy’s ingrained manners battle with her frustration. She remembers the way the world seemed to snap like a rubber band when she’d tried to walk through the gate and how she ended up right back where she’d started. “I’m guessing you know I can’t.”
Maggie’s laugh comes out sharp. “I was hoping it would be different for you.” She studies Lucy for a beat. “What are you doing out here, girl?”
“I’m thinking,” Lucy answers, defensive. “I’m out for a walk. I’m worried for Colin, and I’m confused.”
“I’m sure you are. Can’t find it in me to be sympathetic, though.”
Lucy feels a bit like an amnesia victim who has woken to discover she’s committed some great, secret crime. She’d happily avoid being horrible if only someone would tell her how. “Why weren’t you surprised to see me? Everyone else who works here, I mean those who even bother to really look at me, act like I’m something to fear. You basically shooed me out with a broom.”
“I suppose fear is how most people react to seeing a ghost.” Maggie’s answer is so matter of fact that Lucy feels her exasperation boil up inside. But Maggie holds up a hand to keep her from responding. “I was new here when you died. It wasn’t that long ago, girl. Dot, Joe, all of them knew you as a student and still aren’t sure if they believe you’re the same girl. I tried to tell them the first time that ghosts come back to this place, but until you, no one seemed to want to believe me.” “What ghost was here before?”
“No way,” Maggie says, shaking her head. “I’m not going down that road with you.”
Lucy watches her, seeing a trace of vulnerability beneath the stern surface. “Then at least tell me why we come back.”
This time, Maggie laughs. “I suspect you’re here for that boy. He’s like a magnet for you.”
“Why is that a bad thing?”
Narrowing her eyes, Maggie says, “Don’t know exactly why it’s him you need. I wish I did, Lucy. But you think long and hard about how you felt when you saw Colin lying in the hospital bed. Were you relieved he was safe? Or disappointed you didn’t kill him?”
It’s too much. The nurse has crossed a line, and no matter how much Lucy wants to understand, horror and rage course through her so quickly that she turns, walking toward campus without another word. She doesn’t look back to see, but she’s almost certain she hears the rattling of the gate behind her.
Kill him? How could Maggie even suggest it? Lucy is the one who pulled Colin from the water, who ran to find help. Maggie herself admitted that she didn’t know everything, but even knowing something is a lot farther along than where Lucy is. She only knows that she is falling for Colin and will do anything to not disappear again.
