Heal Me (A Touched Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  “No, it’s not. Micah and I are friends and this isn’t going to change that. I won’t let it.” I ignored the face she made. “Lots of people have sex, Phoebe. Lots of girls our age have sex.”

  “But they’re not you. And you aren’t the casual sex type.”

  “This isn’t casual sex. It’s...friends with benefits.”

  “Friends with benefits? Do you ever watch TV or movies? That kind of thing never works out in fiction and you think it’ll work out for you? Seriously, Lils, this is not a good idea. You’re going to get hurt.”

  “No, I won’t. I know what this is and what it isn’t. I’m not secretly dying of love for Micah. I’m simply...enjoying myself.” I nudged her with my foot. “Now if you don’t mind, you’ve sufficiently killed my good mood and I would rather not feel like I’m a horrible person for choosing this.”

  “Fine.” She held her hands up in defeat. “But if this turns ugly...”

  “Yes, you can say you told me so.”

  “Good,” she said, smiling. “Please tell me you at least used protection. Hannah’s a cutie and all, but a kid would serious screw up your life.”

  “Yes, we used a condom.” I swore my face was about to explode from the heat building there. This was so not a conversation I wanted to be having.

  “Thank God, because I doubt his parents would be so supportive if he knocked up another girl. Now I want details, because that boy is hot enough with clothes on.”

  Phoebe listened and I gave her the minimum of details. It probably didn’t live up to the lewd description she’d been hoping for, but she was now the innocent sister and I figured I should try to protect her.

  “Are you sure about this, Lils?” She stopped in the doorway on her way out of my room.

  “Sure about what?” Chloe asked from the hall.

  “It’s nothing,” I said, not wanting her to know, but mostly not wanting her to look into it for me. “And yes, I am sure.”

  Chloe gave me a strange look and I quickly slammed the door behind Phoebe, blocking both of them out. Distance was always the best thing with Chloe. Otherwise, she just got a bit too nosey.

  That night I dreamed of Dylan again. It started with me floating down the street toward him. He didn’t smile this time. In fact, he had tearstains on his cheeks. I reached for him and for once, he came closer. I let my hand smooth his hair back from his face. I thought he’d cut it before he’d died.

  My hand passed over something sticky and when I pulled my hand away, it was covered in blood. The blood pooled in my palm and dripped to the ground, splashing on the pajama pants I wore. As it fell, more blood appeared in an endless flow. I looked up and Dylan was gone, the blood the only evidence that he was ever there.

  I spun around, wanting to run home, but Micah blocked my way. He was smiling, holding his arms open to me. I ran into them, terrified by the blood. I clenched the front of his shirt in my fists, trying to absorb some of the blood. I pulled back, and his shirt was clean, no blood. I looked back at my crimson hands, and ran them along his arms. Nothing. He grabbed my wrists and tried to see what I saw, but he saw nothing, so he held my hands and lifted them, kissing the backs. When he was done, he let me go and I turned my palms up. The blood was gone.

  Unlike most of my dreams with Dylan, I didn’t wake up suddenly or even immediately. Instead, I drifted through a foggy maze of disconnected scenes. When I finally did wake, it was to my alarm clock softly playing music. I loved Saturday mornings when I could just lay there and wait for one good song to come on and pull me from my bed to turn it up louder.

  That morning it was a Maroon 5 song and, even though it had faded from the charts a while back, I still loved it. I tried not to think about the dream, about what it meant. Dreams could mean anything, including nothing.

  Micah called just before lunch and asked if I wanted to go with him and Hannah to the park. I walked over, not wanting to take complete advantage of Dad’s car. Phoebe had done that when she first got her license and he’d billed her for gas and insurance. Micah and Hannah were waiting for me outside and I barely contained a laugh. Micah was dressed in varying shaded of black and grey, while little Hannah was decked out in a hot pink outfit sitting in her checkered pink stroller.

  When we walked to the park, we did it as we had every other time, talking about the usual things and everything was normal. Phoebe was wrong. Micah and I could do this.

  Hannah played in the sand, and then we put her in the baby swing. Micah stood in front tickling her toes every time she flew towards him and I pushed from behind.

  “Do you think we made a mistake?” Micah asked, looking at me over Hannah’s head.

  “I don’t want it to be a mistake.” I felt at peace with my decision. There was none of the pressure I’d felt with Dylan, or anxious waiting, like Phoebe had suffered until Chloe told her she and Nathan would be waiting a while. It just felt right. Micah wouldn’t hurt me. He would be honest and that was all I needed from this. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

  He nudged Hannah back toward me. “My folks would kill me if they found out, but...I’m not gonna pretend that it wasn’t mildly enjoyable.”

  “Is that faint praise I hear?” I laughed, while inside I was suddenly withering with insecurity.

  “Chill, Lily. I probably wouldn’t have called you if it had been bad.” He laughed at the shock I knew was on plastered across my face. “Kidding! I’m just thinking, what if we change our minds about the whole thing?”

  “Then we’ll just be friends again.” I grabbed the back of Hannah’s swing and held her suspended before me. “Because that is more important to me.”

  I let the swing go and Micah caught it, pulling Hannah out despite her cries.

  “My mom was baking cookies and they should be ready by now,” he said and Hannah immediately started squealing and raising her arms to be lifted out, having heard the magic word. Then he said the words that were magic to my ears. “They’re going out to some office party tonight.”

  Micah’s parents went out a lot and if they didn’t then we hung out just like friends would. Every moment I was awake I focused on when we would be together again. He loved watching thrillers, and wasn’t big on horror movies, drank Chi Tea instead of coffee, and gave the biggest laugh every time Hannah smiled at him. Still, he was as serious as he always seemed and knew that he wanted to do something with his life other than be some kid who messed up his life by getting his girlfriend pregnant.

  There were moments when I thought he was going to put an end to our benefits, when he would want to go out and do something, but couldn’t because of Hannah. She seemed to remind him of just what could happen with what we were doing. I wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t end it. I had to admit that she made me have a few second thoughts as well, but after feeling numb for so long, I didn’t want to give up the feelings Micah brought out in me.

  I loved how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was to suddenly switch into the ‘more’ side of our friendship. With Micah, I didn’t have to worry about transfers. I’d gotten good at predicting when they would happen and unless he was a raging ball of emotion, he managed to keep them to himself. Everything about us was easy.

  Chapter 11

  “Are you going to Homecoming?” Micah asked. The question came completely out of the blue and I wondered what had even made him think about it. English homework normally didn’t inspire him to think of dancing, although Calculus had brought him to the verge of tears once.

  “No. I’m just going to veg at home.”

  “With your sisters?”

  “You’re kidding right? There’s no way Phoebe will miss an opportunity to rub Nathan in Vivian’s face.” Even though Nathan’s ex was no longer stalking them, Phoebe loved gloating too much to let it go. “And Chloe never misses a social event. Besides she and Andrew are back together. Or at least they are this week.”

  “This week?”

  “Chloe and Andrew have had this constant on-
off thing going on for almost a year. I can’t even keep up with it anymore.” I twirled my pencil, then tapped it on the edge of my laptop and completely avoided looking at him. “Are you going?”

  “No way. I don’t do dances.”

  “No smooth moves?” I looked up this time to smirk at him.

  “Oh, I’ve got the smooth moves. They’re just not fit for public.” He dropped his pen and slid up next to me. “My folks won’t be home for another hour. Wanna go to my room?”

  I snorted. “I think your moves need some work.”

  He leaned in close and nuzzled my neck, right behind my ear and every inch of my skin tingled with goose bumps. A few weeks of our benefits had done nothing to dull the excitement.

  “Are you sure?” His lips brushed my skin and I sank into him for just a moment before pulling in a deep breath and moving away.

  “I have to get this paper done and you promised to help me. If I bomb another English assignment, I’m so screwed.”

  “Normally, you like-”

  My glare cut him off. “You so should not finish that sentence.”

  “What? I was going to say that you like writing papers.”

  “Um hum.”

  “Fine, then let’s get this thing done.” He pulled my laptop in front of him and started reading the beginnings of my paper. The faces he made while reading did not inspire hope that I’d written anything worth keeping. Minutes later, he confirmed it. “This is really crappy.”

  “I know.” I groaned. “I just don’t see the point in dissecting the theme of identify in The Scarlet Letter. It’s got to be one of the boringest books Ms. Garcia has ever given us to read.”

  “But it’s an awesome theme. I mean her struggle to establish her identity within her community and society is such a huge part of the story and helps us to recognize how the demands of our own society impacts our own identities. Look at how people ostracized and shamed her for what she saw as an act of love. She could have easily hidden behind the sin she was accused of and accepted their forgiveness, yet instead she refused to admit that what she had done was wrong. She refused to be ashamed, whereas Dimmesdale hides his actions and it eats away at him.”

  “Okay, how is it this English stuff comes so easily for you? Considering how much harder I work at it than you, it’s really not fair.”

  “Considering my life, Hester’s life seems pretty easy to understand. My friends pretty much bailed on me when Jaime got pregnant. Once Hannah came, she was like a novelty and they came around for a bit. Mostly they just wanted to feed the rumor mill, especially when Jaime bailed. I didn’t really care about the gossip, but I guess my parents were embarrassed. I mean, who wants to admit their seventeen year old kid knocked up his girlfriend?” What started as a matter of fact speech ended with a tinge of bitter.

  “I don’t think your parents are ashamed of you or Hannah,” I said, and rested my hand on his arm.

  “I know. It just sucks that...forget it. Let’s get this done.” He clicked a button and my essay was instantly gone. “I’ll help you with the outline and then you’re on your own. Otherwise I’m going to start calling you Phoebe.”

  “Fine.” I pouted for a second then let it slip into a grudging smile. “Thank you.”

  As he typed, my mind wandered back to his Homecoming question. Why had he asked me about going? Was it just simple curiosity? Was it his way of seeing if I wanted to go? The jumble of questions grew to the point where all other thoughts were pushed out.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. He didn’t ask me and neither of us went. Instead I stayed home with Dad, while Micah took care of a sick Hannah. He invited me over, but listening to her scream and cry from an ear infection was not my idea of a fun night out.

  Watching television with Dad wasn’t the most exciting way to spend the evening, but the medical drama he chose was better than wallowing in my room. It’s where I’d been earlier in the evening, until thoughts of Dylan began suffocating me. Chloe had seen him taking me to Homecoming, yet somehow his fate had changed so drastically and suddenly.

  The show, though, did little to banish those thoughts. Curled up on the couch, I tuned out the television and tried to imagine what my life would be like with Dylan still alive. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t do it. Having him back in my life, having him take me to Homecoming would mean not having Micah around. And I couldn’t imagine not having Micah in my life. No matter where things took us, Micah was my best friend.

  “I’m calling it a night, sweetheart,” Dad said, pushing out of his deep-seat recliner. I looked at the television in surprise, seeing a split screen with the credits rolling and an ad for the next episode playing. “Are you staying up?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll go downstairs. I ordered a new book I want to read.”

  “Tell your sisters they need to come and let me know when they get home.”

  “I will.”

  Keeping that promise came a few hours later. I was lying on my bed reading when loud thumps came from someone stomping down the stairs. I got up and opened my bedroom door, catching Chloe just as she was going into her room. I opened my mouth to remind her about letting Dad know she was home, but she held up a hand.

  “I already went to say night to Dad.” She pursed her lips and even before I glimpsed the tears in her eyes, the heat of her sadness hit me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling the door open wider and stepping into the hall.

  She opened then closed her mouth and shook her head. Her shoulders slumped forward and a ragged sigh exploded from her.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Her head shook again.

  “Do you need anything?”

  She didn’t shake her head this time, but she didn’t ask for anything either. Instead, she stood there waiting and I did what I always did when one of my sisters cried. I reached out and rubbed her back, letting her emotions transfer through the touch. I had expected hurt or anger, but only a deep disappointment and sense of loss came through. The transfer was done within seconds and we went to bed without another word spoken between us. The night was forgotten as just as quickly.

  With September almost over, the rain would start coming more often and by November we would be entering the rainy season. The picnic tables outside were full of people wanting to enjoy the last of the warm and dry weather.

  The Wednesday after Homecoming, Micah and I sat outside, eating lunch. Normally we didn’t have any alone time at school and I tried not to seek it out either. Anything beyond friends here would cross the imaginary line we had established. It was hard to keep myself from wanting to step across it, but I did because I knew I couldn’t do anything that would cause me to lose what little I had.

  “Is Chloe still dating Andrew?” Micah asked.

  “No, they broke up again.” I gave him a curious look and wished I had my cousin Kevin’s mind reading abilities. Micah sometimes asked the most random questions and I could never make the connections between them and what we’d been discussing. This was the perfect example. One minute he was telling me about his biology experiment and the next he’s asking about Chloe. Even after a month of ‘benefits’ I still couldn’t figure him out completely.

  There had been a couple times I’d wondered why he was interested in her, but he’d never said anything else, and why would he be with me if he liked my sister? I thought about what Phoebe said, about us being friends with benefits and that eventually we wouldn’t be friends anymore. I didn’t want to think that way. Micah was my best friend. he would never use me that way if he were interested in someone else.

  “Why do you ask?” I tried for minimal curiosity and wasn’t quite sure I achieved it.

  “Just wondering. She was sitting by herself in the cafeteria, and I thought it was a little strange.”

  “Please tell me you’re not worrying about Chloe,” Phoebe said, sliding onto the bench across from me and next to Micah. “She’s probably just PMSing.”

  Micah
grunted and stuffed a large piece of apple in his mouth, puffing out his reddened cheeks. Nothing like the mention of the female cycle to end a conversation.

  Chloe wasn’t PMSing. This was her moping about Homecoming and the fact that it was the official end of the Chloe-Andrew dating merry-go-round. She hadn’t offer an explanation and I felt a bit guilty that I hadn’t even really been interested in knowing what had happened. I’d been too busy dwelling on thoughts of Dylan and Micah.

  “How are you doing?” Phoebe asked, turning to me.

  “I’m...” The word fine tickled the end of my tongue as I bit the word off. “I’m here.”

  “What’s up?” Micah looked from Phoebe to me.

  “Today would have been Dylan’s eighteenth birthday,” Phoebe said when I didn’t answer him.

  “I’m fine, really, Phoebe. I’d rather not talk about it.” I squirmed under her knowing gaze, feeling mild relief that she wasn’t calling me out in front of Micah. Not that he was really listening. He was staring off into space, munching on another apple slice.

  Talking about Dylan was not at the top of my list of things I wanted to do today. The dreams I’d been having were now appearing every night, and even though they all ended the same way, with him walking way, I couldn’t help but feel that I was the one leaving. And I didn’t want to leave him behind. Despite everything that had happened before he died, I’d loved him and he’d died thinking I didn’t.

  Being awake didn’t help either. Little things I had missed seeing the past few months now glared at me, daring me to ignore how they reminded me of him. At first, I’d been furious with myself. Angry that I was letting Dylan take me over again. I didn’t need memories of him to remind me of what I lost. I already knew. My fury grew as guilt began consuming me. I was with Micah, while Dylan was dead, alone.

  Phoebe nodded and started blabbing on about how horrible Mr. Mason was being this year now that he was teaching the senior level courses. A vibrating in her pocket eventually stopped her and she pulled out her cell and attempted to figure out how to open the text message she’d just received.