I got to lunch before Dan but after Cassie, who was already sitting at our table with her guitar out, scribbling something in her music notebook. As I sat down across from her, I waved my RSVP note in front of her face.
“Not to interrupt,” I sang, “but I have a present for you. . . .”
“Ooh!” she squealed. “Yay! So many people are coming, I hope we have room for everyone at the Bean! What are you going to wear? Promise me you’ll dress up? I’m so excited!”
I dropped the folded-up paper on the table in front of her and unwrapped my sandwich. I tried to push the memory of Asher guessing my favorite lunch out of my head. “I don’t know what I’m wearing,” I said. “I hate dressing up.”
“Oh my god, if you lame out on me tonight I’ll kill you. You’re definitely coming, right? Right?”
“Of course! Yes, I’m definitely coming.”
“Good. Because there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What?”
She paused, letting the drama of the moment build between us. “How do you feel about taking risks?”
“What?” I asked again. “What kind of risk?”
“There’s something I’m thinking about doing tonight. And it’s kind of scary.”
“Cass! Seriously? What is it?”
She played with a long twisted curl that had come loose from her side braid. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s a big risk.”
“Riskier than singing on stage in front of a hundred people?”
“Are you kidding? I’m a performer. That doesn’t scare me one bit. If I did this, it would be, like, epic.”
“Well, I think you should do it,” I said before I even knew the words were coming out of my mouth. “Will you at least tell me what it is?”
“I guess you’ll find out tonight,” she said with a wink. When Dan and Ian walked up to our table seconds later debating the health benefits of spray cheese versus Kraft Singles, I noticed that she blushed, and the conversation was over.
I was getting books out of my locker for the last few classes of the day when Devin came up behind me. “Put those back,” he said with a small smile, taking the books from me and shoving them back in the locker. “We’re leaving.”
“Oh, really?” I said. “Where are we going?”
“We’re cutting school for the rest of the day.”
The hall was emptying out; the bell was about to ring. I looked around for anyone who might care.
“Oh, great,” I said. “Don’t worry about my education. I’m sure I can get a job as a short-order cook somewhere.”
“Skye,” he said testily, the look in his eyes not one to mess with. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’re avoiding us again. But it’s time to get back to work.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, shutting the locker door behind me. The day before I’d stayed after school to take that essay test for Ms. Manning, so we hadn’t practiced. As we walked down the hall, I noticed that only my footsteps echoed behind us.
Outside by my car, Asher was waiting. He had sunglasses on, and I could feel my knees weaken even as we walked across the parking lot. I got in behind the wheel, Devin sat next to me, and Asher hopped in the back. When I turned the key in the ignition, the car roared to life.
We were up in the mountains.
It was unseasonably warm considering how cold and miserable it had been since New Year’s. The previous day’s rain had left the snow melting in patches along the path, revealing spots of brown dead grass. It seemed like every step I took higher and higher up the mountain path revealed more and more of the dirt underneath. As I left a trail in my wake, I wondered how much of this was the weather and how much of it was me melting the snow with all my cosmic energy.
Finally we reached a clearing. The snow was packed hard on the ground and dripping icicles hung precariously from the branches of the evergreen trees that surrounded us. Devin stopped walking and turned to face me and Asher.
“Skye,” he said gravely. “I know the last week or so has been hard for you, but I want to see you make a breakthrough today. I want you to impress me. Show me what you can do.”
“Come on,” Asher said, spreading his enormous wings and shaking off a dusting of snow. “Enough with the speeches. You know what you have to do, Skye. Remember what I told you. Close your eyes. Find the switch. Flip it.”
“Why do you guys care so much? If I fail to ever demonstrate any control, is someone going to shout, ‘Off with her head!’”
They both shuffled their feet, looking uncomfortable.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Seriously? Is that what’s going to happen?”
“No,” Devin assured me. “It’s just important that your powers emerge. What they are will decide your destiny.”
“You mean my powers will decide who I get to fly off into the sunset with? What if I don’t want to go with either one of you?”
“You have a choice only if you have powers associated with both the light and the dark,” Devin said, his voice losing some of its cool detachment.
I flung my hand at Asher. “The Rebellion originally had powers of the light and they chose to jump into the darkness. So if I have only one power why can’t I jump into whichever path I want?”
“You can,” Asher said. “But if you jump to the opposite side, you’ll lose that power.”
“But I have a choice.”
“Yes,” he said.
“No,” Devin said at the same time.
He glared at both of us. “If you exhibit the power of the Gifted, you belong with the Order.”
“It doesn’t matter at this point,” Asher said, clearly frustrated. “The Elders are wise. They know things. Things they haven’t told Devin or me. Our mission is to help you find your powers. So please, try to call forth your powers.”
So I did.
I closed my eyes and searched the darkness behind my lids for what I hoped was there. I had no idea what I was looking for.
When I opened them, Asher and Devin were staring at me.
“Did I do anything?”
I thought I could actually hear crickets chirping in the woods surrounding us.
“No,” Devin said with a sigh, his brow furrowing. “Try it again.”
I stared at him in anger, my frustration pulsing just beneath my skin. If only I could focus that energy, I could get rid of Devin and my problems would go away. If I could just flip the switch and with one swift motion . . .
At that precise second, a boulder resting on the edge of an overhang above us rolled over the edge, tumbling right toward Devin. And everything happened so fast, it felt as if time were overlapping back on itself, everything occurring all at once.
My hand shot out instinctively in front of me.
Something was surging out of my palm.
Asher shouted something in a blur of winged blackness.
Devin suddenly wasn’t where he’d been.
And the boulder stopped in midair. Stopped. Just like that.
Stopped in midair and reversed direction. It lofted on the wind and was borne back to its perch on the overhang, where it sat calmly, as if nothing had happened.
Asher and Devin stood with their mouths agape, staring at me.
“What did you do?” Devin demanded. “How did you do that?”
“Not bad,” Asher said, smirking. “Maybe next time, you could forget to reverse the rock, though, save us all from Devin.”
“Do it again,” said Devin, ignoring Asher. “Whatever you just did, I want you to do it again.”
I tried over and over again to recreate the moment, but I couldn’t—what ran through my head was the fear that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from letting the boulder run Devin over this time.
“Try harder!” Devin yelled, and several small icicles fell from the branches as his voice echoed across the clearing. “You have to try harder!”
“I am!” I cried. “I don’t know what else you want from
me! I am doing the best I can!”
“I won’t accept that,” Devin said, his eyes shifting behind me, unfocused. “You have something in you. . . .” He paused, and I suddenly realized what a struggle this was for him. He looked like he was barely in control. Across the clearing, Asher was watching us. “I know it’s there, Skye. Why don’t you?” Devin’s eyes glittered, and I was reminded of how different he was when it was just the two of us. The night I slept on the far side of the bed and woke up in his arms. “You must”—he paused between each word—“keep trying. Or else I don’t know—”
“Are we done?” Asher sauntered up. He fixed Devin with a stare that would set Antarctica ablaze.
Devin looked at me again, and I could tell there was something he was holding back, something more he wasn’t telling me. Were there choices he was being forced to make that had nothing to do with what he wanted? For the first time, I truly understood how resentful he must have felt toward Asher.
Why had Devin never joined the Rebellion? Was it a question of duty versus self-sacrifice? If he could give up what he wanted so easily for the sake of the war between the Order and the Rebellion, what else was he capable of doing for the Gifted?
“Come on.” Asher put his arm around my shoulder and drew me away from the icy blond angel. “You’ve done all you can for today.”
“No.” Devin’s voice was almost pleading. “No, don’t leave. Please.”
My stomach twisted. I wanted to do something for Devin, but I was so tired of the pressure.
“Don’t stand in our way,” said Asher stonily. “I won’t let you push her any harder. You know as well as I do that whatever is to come will come. Whatever is inside of Skye will manifest when the time is right.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Rebel,” Devin spat, and Asher flinched at the surprisingly hateful tone of Devin’s voice.
“I’m not so sure you do, either,” he said softly.
“Both of you, enough!” I yelled. My voice echoed off the rocks and boulders and trees and sky. “Stop fighting! Both of you. I can’t stand it! I’m my own person, and I can take care of myself!”
The clearing, for the first time all day, was silent.
“I’m ready to leave,” I said into the utter quiet, and it shocked me how loud my voice sounded, how sure of itself.
With a last glance at the two of them, I turned and walked back through the trees, back toward the path that would take me down the mountain. Soon, I would have to make a choice. It would be Devin on one side, Asher on the other.
And me, as always, in the middle, struggling for the right way out.
That night, I decided to follow Cassie’s advice and get dressed up. I rooted around in my closet for the dress she had made me buy the last time we went shopping, and I tried to remember where Aunt Jo kept her good boots. Ten minutes later, I was back in front of the mirror, this time wearing the off-the-shoulder black sweaterdress, black tights, and brown motorcycle boots. My hair was loose and wild, and I’d put on a little makeup. A thrill went through me. I looked good. Who was this person?
And who, I wondered, did I want to impress?
When I finally pulled into town, the streets were already lined with cars. I parked in a spot a few blocks down and cut the engine. I sat in the solitary chill of the car, not quite ready to go in. Would Asher and Devin be in there? Tonight all I wanted was a break from everything, a chance to hang out with my friends without Devin breathing down my neck about my so-called powers or feeling heartsick over Asher. With a breath to steel myself, I got out of the car and walked down the street.
Love the Bean was warm and someone had put the twinkle lights back up. It wasn’t hard to guess who.
Everything looked soft and lovely and magical. Lately I didn’t even recognize my own life, but standing here, I thought everything felt perfect.
Cassie was stomping around on the stage in studded black ankle boots, decked out in a totally-inappropriate-for-the-weather sequined minidress, a tiara of tiny violet flowers perched on a messy upsweep of red hair. When she saw me, she gave me the thumbs-up, wiggling her eyebrows seemingly to indicate that she was ready for whatever big risk she had been thinking about taking earlier. I waved and blew her a kiss. I wondered what she was going to do.
Behind her, the rest of the band was warming up, adjusting the levels of the amps and tuning their instruments. Dan caught my eye from the front row and waved me over.
“Hey, you made it,” he said, giving me a hug. I noticed his eyes flicking behind me, and I grimaced inwardly.
“They’re not here,” I said. Dan just looked at me, and I wasn’t sure exactly what more to say.
“Haven’t seen you a whole lot lately.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, like, other than lunch sometimes.”
“Yeah . . .”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Which is great and all—I cherish our time eating French fries together—but remember when we used to do stuff? And, like, talk?”
“Dan, I know. I’m . . .”
“Everything okay? No situations I need to jump in and take care of?”
I bit my lip. I was starting to realize, no matter how much I wished it wasn’t true, that we were growing up. There were some things that your best friends just couldn’t fix simply by being there for you. “Thanks,” I said, knocking him on the arm and giving him a smile. “I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “I was hoping for a fight or something. It’s been a while since I roughed someone up.”
“Kindergarten?” I said.
“Man, Tommy Evans didn’t know what hit him.”
“Well, sorry to get in the way of your big plans.”
“Listen, S,” he said, throwing his arm around me. “You’re like my sister. I just want to make sure you’re being careful. And if I need to whup some new-guy ass . . .”
“Dan, you don’t have to—”
“I’m just saying. I don’t like the way they look at you. Like you’re something to win or whatever.”
“Dan, if I need someone to step in, you’ll be the first person I’ll call, okay?”
He smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“I promise,” I said.
A mic shrieked loudly, and we turned abruptly to the stage.
Cassie finished tuning and looked out at us, smiling. She gripped the mic with both hands, her red hair blurring into the soft twinkle-lit room. Dan smiled, too, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as she started singing.
She was amazing. The Mysterious Ellipses jammed behind her, and the crowd was totally into it.
After a bit, she said, “This song is for my friends.” Cassie looked determined, like she was psyching herself up for something big. Behind her, Trey and Jonah put their instruments down and watched as Cassie picked up her acoustic guitar and took center stage.
But then she started to play. And everything around us began to fade away.
The strumming of the guitar filled the room, and Cassie’s voice rang out like a bell.
I suddenly got the distinct impression that she wasn’t singing to her friends anymore—she was singing to one friend in particular. Dan stood next to me, nodding his head to the music.
He was staring at Cassie, looking at her like he’d never really seen her before at all. Looking at her like he finally understood. His eyes widened, and I saw the corners of his mouth turn up slowly.
As she sang, Cassie opened her eyes and looked out at the crowd. She found us. She found Dan.
The way she looked at him just then made something in my heart sink. Cassie had liked Dan this entire time, and I hadn’t even realized it. I was a terrible friend.
Ian sauntered over and punched Dan on the arm. “She’s amazing, dude.”
Dan smiled. “She so is.”
“She should make a CD or something.”
“I’m sure she’s already thought of
that.” Dan was grinning like I’d never seen before.
Ian turned to us and motioned to the coffee bar. “You guys want anything? My treat.”
“Ian, seriously, how are you not fired?”
“I dunno, Skye, some people love me.” It felt like a deliberate jab, and suddenly I felt a little guilty. Cassie and Dan hadn’t been the only ones I’d been neglecting.
“I’ll take a chai latte,” was all I said in response.
Trey banged his drumsticks over his head as he counted out, “One, two, three, four,” and struck up another song, a faster one. Dan and I started dancing to it, jumping up and down and waving at Cassie, who beamed as she belted out the lyrics.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Asher come in from outside, shaking off a light dusting of snow and looking around. I pretended not to see him and shook my head wildly, letting my hair fan out. Dan laughed. When I glanced up at Asher, he was watching us, looking moodier than I’d ever seen him. Ian came back with our drinks, and as I sipped my latte, I carefully turned back around. Asher was gone.
Cassie began singing another song, this one a bit slower and softer than the others. Dan and Ian were watching the performance, paying little attention to me.
“Want to dance?”
I spun around so fast that my latte nearly spilled over the side of the mug. Devin was standing there, looking both unsure of himself and hopeful.
“Uh . . .”
“I’m sorry for being so impatient. I thought a dance might be a better way to say it.”
“Sure. Okay.” I put my mug down on a low table and took his hand.
Devin held me close, his hands on my waist while I placed mine on his shoulders. There were a few other couples dancing around us. I didn’t usually slow dance at the Bean, and something about the whole thing felt awkwardly formal.
Even so, as I let his cheek brush against mine, I remembered how nice it felt to wake up in bed next to him. To let him hold me.
“Not bad, Devin,” I said, grinning.
“Years of practice.” I couldn’t see his face.
Decades? Centuries? Millennia? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know exactly how long he’d been around.