Heal Me (A Touched Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Libraries should be quiet and most of the time our school library was. The one exception was lunch. It seemed as if half the student body was clustered in there, frantically trying to finish homework or end of year projects. Our school was big on the project concept. The teachers said it built cooperation and team building skills essential to today’s workforce. Today it just built a headache for me.

  The tables were full of people disguising their conversations about the latest gossip, Hollywood or Beachgrove, with pseudo whispers. So much for going in there for a moment’s peace before lunch ended and I had to face my sisters, Micah, and eventually Dylan in my afternoon classes.

  I made my way to the back corner where the study booths were set up. I sank into the chair and dropped my head onto the desk. The hard thud reverberated through my skull and I thought how nice it would have been to have bangs to cover the red splotch that was surely growing on my forehead.

  It was over. I wasn’t with someone I didn’t love, but I didn’t feel any better either.

  “You okay?”

  Micah was not a person I wanted to see. Nobody was. I ignored him, hoping he’d leave. The tears I’d been holding onto finally leaked from behind my closed eyes and I was glad that at least they were falling onto the desk and not dripping down my face. Red, puffy eyes and a pink forehead were enough to deal with without adding streaks of mascara as well.

  “You okay?” he asked louder. The guy definitely couldn’t take a hint.

  “Yes,” I lied.

  “Yeah, right.” He pulled up a chair from a neighboring booth and sat beside me. I could see his worn Nike sneakers resting beside my own Mary Janes.

  “Do you mind?” I asked, rolling my head slightly so I could stare at him from one eye. “I’m attempting to wallow in self pity and would rather not discuss it with you.”

  “Good. I’m not really into the whole touchy-feely-share-your-feelings kind of thing.”

  I snorted. He said that now, but I’d felt the raging anguish he carried and that he’d unloaded onto me. He was the biggest emotional grenade I’d ever been around.

  “So why did you follow me then?”

  “Like I said before, I needed to ask my partner something. What? You didn’t think I made it up, did you?” He shoved a crimpled up tissue in my face. After checking that it was clean, I used it to dry the edges of my eyes and then crunched it in my fist.

  “So what did you need to ask me that was so vital you couldn’t have waited until I’d finished...talking with Dylan?”

  “Are you coming over after school today?”

  I gave him an incredulous look. I’d been over at his place every day after school for the past week to work on our project. He knew I was going to be over today. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah sure, I just...” He shrugged uncomfortably and I realized that the bizarre question hadn’t really been what he was going to ask earlier. That he hadn’t really needed to ask me anything. It had simply been an excuse to interrupt what had obviously been a very tense exchange between Dylan and me.

  Micah had a protective side. It was nice to see proof that the arrogant, rude guy I’d met a couple of weeks ago wasn’t so bad. Oh, he’d been pleasant and funny once we’d started our partnership over again, but with either his mom or dad home most of that time, I’d wondered if that wasn’t simply a show for them. Now I knew there was something a tad sweet inside of him.

  “I really am all right,” I said, gradually lifting my head from the desk. I avoided facing him dead on, not wanting him to see my splotchy face, at least until my freckles had a chance to cool off.

  “Why did you do it? Break up with him, I mean. Did it have anything to do with us almost kissing? ‘Cause you know I’m not interested in that. With you, I mean.”

  “No! God, no. It’s just that he’s different than he used to be.” How else to explain it without sharing all of my secrets?

  “Can’t that be a good thing?” he asked.

  I glanced at him, wondering if he was judging me for my decision, but instead there was a curiosity, a wonder that made me think he was asking for an answer to a personal question that had nothing to do with me and my sad love life.

  “It can, but with Dylan...he used to be the sweetest guy. I remember the first Valentine’s Day after we started dating. He bought me a giant stuffed teddy and a bunch of pink roses. Then he hid them in my locker before school.”

  “Sounds kind of cheesy to me.”

  “Of course it does. You’re a guy and you’re not thirteen. Trust me it sounds a bit cheesy to me now, too.” Although cheesy doesn’t mean unwanted.

  “Thirteen? You’ve been dating him that long?”

  “Four years.”

  “And since he’s no longer the same guy he was when he was thirteen, you decided to dump him?” Again, I waited for a hint of disdain, but nothing.

  “I didn’t just suddenly decide. All of this...stuff with him has been going on for months. I keep trying to help him, but he’s always so angry and hurt. You don’t know what it’s like to carry someone else’s emotional baggage.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Pushing the chair back to stand, I tried to act naturally despite feeling anything but. “I need to go get ready for my next class.”

  “What do you-?”

  “Lily!” Phoebe’s voice cut off Micah’s question. I glanced down the aisle between the bookshelves leading from the main part of the library to the study booths where Micah and I were and saw her marching toward us with a purpose. As soon as she reached us, she enfolded me in her arms, squeezing me in a bear hug that for once wasn’t a weird Phoebe moment. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said without thinking.

  “Liar. I don’t know why you even try that with me anymore. It’s like you continually forget I’m a Truth Teller.”

  “A what?” Micah asked.

  Phoebe startled, as if just realizing that not only was Micah there, but that he was there with me. She left go of me and faced Micah.

  “What’s your name again?” she asked with her typical lack of manners.

  “Micah. We have Civics together.”

  “Oh, sure.” She seemed to be trying to place his face for a moment, before a light bulb went off. “Oh! You’re Mickey, the guy Tonya was talking about.”

  “She was?” I asked.

  Micah and Phoebe ignored my question.

  “What’s a Truth Teller?” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “You don’t know?” she asked him, then before he could answer she turned to me. “You haven’t told him?”

  “No.”

  “Told me what?” Micah asked, but neither of us responded to him.

  “You haven’t healed him?”

  “What?” Micah now looked completely confused.

  “No. Yes.” I admitted before she could call me out again.

  “What are you guys talking about?” We continued to ignore him.

  “Phoebe, I’ll talk to you later. Please.” I dropped my bag on to the table. Phoebe had always hated the whole Freaky Matlins thing, but now that her gift finally worked, she had no problem showing off and I didn’t want Micah to see that.

  “Fine, but you have to promise you’ll tell me what happened before you tell Chloe.”

  “I promise.” I gave her a slight shove, glad she was only full of curiosity and not worry.

  “What was all that talk about ‘have you healed him’ and ‘I’m a Truth Teller’?” Micah asked once Phoebe was gone.

  There’d never been a time when I’d tried to hide my gift and I liked knowing I could help people. Yet part of me was reluctant to tell people anything specific due to the drilling Dad had given us for years. He’d made sure we knew how dangerous and sometimes hurtful it could be if we used our gifts out in the open. There were always people willing to use you and a lot of times it was the people you least expected. But most of all, at that moment, with Micah staring down at me,
I hated the fact that as soon as he knew, he’d treat me differently.

  At this point though, there was no stopping him from finding out. If Phoebe didn’t tell him, he’d just ask someone else and then the stories had the potential to get pretty crazy. Back in sixth grade, Andrew had told one of the younger kids I’d brought his dog back to life instead of just healing a small scratch and by the end of the day, the entire school was convinced I was bringing about a zombie apocalypse. It had taken years for the rumor to die down. Even now, I still got the occasional snarky moan.

  “My family is different,” I told him.

  “Different?”

  “Our nanna always says we’ve been graced with special gifts.”

  “Gifts? And that means what?”

  “It means that we have special talents and can do things that other people can’t.”

  Micah’s eyebrows soared in a mixture of skepticism and humor. “So you’re like human pretzels or can tie a knot in a cherry stem with your tongue.”

  “No, that’s not what it means.” I rolled my eyes. “It means we can do paranormal things.”

  “So then what exactly can you guys do?” He was clearly struggling to hold in his laughter and I already regretted telling him.

  “Phoebe’s a Truth Teller, so she knows when someone is telling a lie.”

  “Uh huh, nice to have a gift that doesn’t require her to be able to prove anything unless someone is willing to admit their guilt,” he said, clearly skeptical. “So you and your sisters know if someone is lying. Great.”

  “No, only Phoebe can do that. Chloe can see the future.”

  “Really? Wouldn’t that kind of be like horoscopes being self-fulfilling prophecies? Once I know my future, won’t I gravitate towards choices that will make it happen?”

  “Never mind. Let’s just forget this whole conversation.”

  I started to walk away when Micah blocked my way. The half smile on his face had me itching to wipe it off.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  I stared at him and everything inside of me resisted the idea of telling him. His skepticism begged me to just let it go, to pretend that I was normal and that I was joking about all of it, but that would just make him more curious. I didn’t want to have to prove anything to him and I already knew he would eventually want me to. Everyone did.

  “I’m a healer.”

  What I saw in his eyes was a confirmation of everything that I knew would happen. Doubt warred with a sudden spark of interest inside of him, and if I stayed any longer, he would ask for proof. And I couldn’t do it, not when I was just about to get myself together.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I said and took off, practically running to get away. I needed to get ready for my next class. That was my excuse and I was sticking to it. It had absolutely nothing to do with the dread that Micah would want me to help someone in his family. I was simply consumed by the hope that I would make it to class on time.

  My hope vanished when I found Chloe leaning against the locker beside mine. Especially since she looked pissed.

  “Bianca told me you just broke up with Dylan in the cafeteria. What the hell is going on with you?” she demanded, pushing off the blue metal locker. “Why did you break up with him? You know you guys are going to be together. How could you not have told me? Was this why you switched it so you’d be partners with Micah?”

  “I tried telling you,” I said, breaking into what was surely an endless stream of questions I couldn’t and didn’t want to answer.

  “Lily, what is this about? I told you that you guys were gonna be fine. Christmas and prom, remember?” She had and her reminder of it was the final straw now.

  “Maybe I don’t want fine, Chloe. At least not with Dylan.”

  “Why not?” she asked with a certain type of desperation, not for me to feel secure in my decision, but in fear that her visions had been wrong yet again.

  “You have no idea what it’s like...” I shook my head, unable to even begin explaining it to her. How could I ever hope that she would feel what I did?

  “Then tell me, Lils. Because obviously something is wrong with Dylan and you’re not willing to help him.”

  Not willing to help. If only she could feel how much I had helped him already.

  “You have the easiest gift of all of us,” she continued. “You simply touch someone and make everything feel better. Why won’t you just help Dylan and then things can go back to normal?”

  The unfamiliar rise of anger sparked in me again. She had no clue what my gift was like. She wanted me to use my gift, just so she could comfort herself in the knowledge that her ability was still working right.

  “Have you ever stuck your hand over a candle and held it there? Have you thrust your entire arm into a pot of boiling water?” The words poured out of me, devoid of any of the raging emotions I was feeling, and once they started, I couldn’t seem to hold them in any longer. “Would you find that easier than staring into space and watching a blurry picture? Would you like to feel every ounce of pain and suffering a person is going through when they’ve just watched someone they love die? Would you like to have the memory of how Mom felt as she bled out?”

  Phoebe stared at me in growing horror. She had no clue what my gift was about. No one did.

  “It hurts. I hurt. Every moment of every day, I feel all the pain and anger and crap that everyone around me is feeling. Each time Dylan touches me, I want to die. He pulls everything I am out of me and replaces it with this vile, twisting mess of negativity and emptiness. That’s why I’ve been so tired, because he leaves me with nothing inside.”

  I knew she was shocked and hurt. And that was exactly why I had never told my sisters what my gift did to me. This moment would change everything between us and I hated the fact that I had caused it and the desire to pull the words back in was overwhelming, but it was too late.

  “I...I’m sorry, Lils,” she said, staring at me as if I’d grown horns. “I had no idea... you never said anything. I’m so sorry.”

  She was sorry and I was sorry, because in the end, telling her wouldn’t fix anything. So, I did what I always did. I reached out and touched her hand. A few seconds and she wore a hint of a smile.

  If only it were that easy to heal myself.

  Chapter 5

  Despite telling him I’d be over, I skipped going to Micah’s that afternoon, preferring to avoid his curious hazel gaze and continue wallowing in self-pity. I’d never been a fan of pity parties, but this felt like the kind of day that lent itself to one. Although, considering I'd just dumped him, Dylan probably had a better reason to feel sorry for himself. It was hard not to think about him. I hadn’t been sure I loved him when I told him it was over, but I knew now.

  I did love him, I probably always would, just not enough.

  My cell phone rang a few times with Dylan’s picture flashing across the screen. After the fourth call, I turned it off. He eventually must have figured out I’d done that, because he switched to calling the home phone. Luckily Dad wasn’t there, because as much as he liked Dylan, he’d pull out all his legal jargon about harassment and stalking laws.

  Dylan’s third call on the home phone came after Phoebe made it home from Nathan’s. I was sitting on the couch watching The Hobbit when she came into the den, holding the phone in one hand. She held it up to me, but I shook my head, letting my red curtain of curls cover my face.

  “I’m sorry, Dylan,” she said into the receiver. “I thought she was in her room, but I guess she’s still over at M...out.”

  She tried to cover that she’d nearly said I was over at Micah’s, which could only mean that either she knew about what had almost happened between Micah and me or there was some rumor about it having happened.

  “I’ll tell her you called.” She hung up, even as Dylan’s enraged voice continued to come from the line.

  After flicking the ringer off and placing it on the table, she came over and sat beside me, wrapping an arm aroun
d my shoulders. I rested my head against her and we just sat, not saying anything. She was sad and her feelings flowed into me, becoming a part of my own so perfectly I couldn’t find a way to separate them.

  “Chloe told you, didn’t she?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything, Lils?”

  “There was nothing you could do. Just like when you thought you didn’t have a gift. I couldn’t help you then either.”

  “That’s bull. I remember so many times when I was bitter and upset about it and then you’d pass by me and touch my hand or arm before I even knew what you were doing, and instantly I’d feel better. God, Lils, you’ve healed us thousands of times, and every time it hurt you.”

  “I didn’t mind.” I lifted my head to look her in the eyes, wanting her to not just hear the truth in my words, but to see it in my face. I could never regret a single time I’d healed my sisters. Well, there was the one time Phoebe decided to steal Chloe’s boyfriend in the eighth grade, and he ended up playing her for a fool as well. I should have made her suffer, let her learn her lesson a bit, even if I’d been in excruciating pain for a few days,.

  A few days were nothing in comparison to what Dad had gone through when Mom died. Nanna had once made a comment about how clingy I had been when I was a baby, but it hadn’t been clinginess. It had been self-preservation. If I went too long between physical contact with Dad, his feelings of loss would have grown and I would burn with the need to heal him. I think I was four or five when I stopped feeling his ever-present sorrow.

  “Never again,” Phoebe said with a shake of her head. “Chloe and I made a pact that we’re not going to let you heal either one of us ever again.”

  I gave her a slight smile for her uncommon thoughtfulness. “I wish that would help, Phoebe, but it’ll only make things worse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I contemplated how to answer her. I’d spilled the worst to Chloe and she hadn’t seemed to take it very well, but Phoebe was a bit more blasé about things. It made it a bit easier knowing that I didn’t have to worry about hurting Phoebe’s feelings. She wouldn’t give a crap that I had never told her before. Okay, maybe she would mind, but not to the same degree as Chloe would.