

FATE'S EXCHANGE

By

Sasha Leigh

Fate's Exchange, A Twisted Fate Novel

Copyright © 2014 by Sasha Leigh

Published: September 22, 2014

First Edition

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Cover Design: Sasha Leigh

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Logo Wings: Fiery Wings by blackmoon979

Exterior Photos:

Beautiful sexy blond girl studio shot by babaka

Interior Photos:

Vector illustration of Feather by Roman__

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.SashaLeigh.Weebly.com or @SashaLeighS.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

A SOUL

A soul is never mistaken,

For another in its place.

A soul can be misguided,

By darkness light cannot trace.

A soul is never untrue,

Its reflection cannot lie.

A soul is always faithful,

With love that will not die.

A soul is within everyone,

Even if you cannot see.

A soul is a part of you,

And another is a part of me.

ONE

Alyssa

I heard them before I saw them, but by then, it was too late.

For the first time ever, I cut out of study hall early and followed a shifty-looking group of students I didn't know as they crept out of the library unseen. Miss Carmichael, the college student completing her final practicum before becoming a real teacher, was too engrossed with texting her fiancé from her perch on a stool behind the check-out counter to even notice us slip past. I didn't see another teacher as we quietly made our way through the halls that lead us out of the school.

As soon as we cleared the back door of Royal Academy, I broke from the group to head straight while they rounded the side of the building, out of sight. I was grateful that spring had arrived with a smiling sun to melt the remnants of snow hidden between the trees in the woods that lay just past the sports fields ahead. After being grounded for a week, the first day of the weekend marked freedom. Not even the chill from the not-so-warming breeze could ruin my good mood.

With the conclusion of my favorite series, Fallen, by Lauren Kate, in my hand, I hurried through the dampened, ankle-deep grass that had yet to be cut since the change of seasons. The open greens behind Royal Academy were large enough to fit two football fields with ease, with running tracks surrounding them to look like a figure eight. At the edge of the field where the grass ended, the dense woods that separated our school from Elixir High School began. It was barely a kilometer thick, but it was the perfect place to escape. The treehouse that I loved to go to read and be alone, shutting out the world, was just behind the first bunch of trees. It was secluded, surrounded by nothing but woods, and mine.

With a smile, already starting to feel the full-body pleasure that engulfed me when I was able to turn off my brain to live in a fictional world, I ran until my shoulders throbbed from the jostle of my heavy bag and I was left breathless. Almost there. The lawn brushing my ankles shortened and turned to brown, the muddy, rock-ridden ground too harsh for planting. Just another hundred meters and you'll be surrounded by trees, closer to the treehouse and unseen by the world. My smile grew, and I exhaled.

"Hey! Honey!" a guy shouted from behind me.

I peered over my shoulder and felt my breath hitch. Just as quickly, I turned forward and kept my gaze on the ground, picking up my speed. Irrationally, my heart began to race.

Five Elixir High School students—three boys and two girls—were following me, though I had no idea why they were coming from my school and not theirs. Or had they cut through the woods and doubled back when they saw me walking alone? I was so eager to leave that I hadn't been paying attention, and their heavy footsteps had been masked by the sound of my heart as I ran across the field. Now, I felt each step as it drummed a beat beneath me as though the earth was hollow. They blocked my way back to Royal Academy, leaving me one direction to flee: forwards, into the woods. Every other direction was fenced off.

My heart raced. Just ignore them and they'll go away.

But somehow, I knew there would be no ignoring this bunch. Maybe I could, if I wasn't alone, but now? Alone? No, they looked like the reason the new program—some delinquent outreach thingamajiggy—had been integrated into their school. With another shoulder-check, I saw smoke curl into the air, the tip of the joint they shared glowing red as each took a puff. The breeze carried the stench forward, so strong it was like I could feel myself turning green, and my stomach rolled. I focused forward and tried to move faster, gaining much-needed distance without being obvious.

This felt bad. They hadn't even done anything, I knew. My gut told me that I shouldn't trust them, though, and I was too scared to turn back the way I came. Even the thought of stopping to unzip my bag to grab my phone made me want to hurl. They can't catch up to me if I don't stop. I bent my head and continued forward.

The newscaster of my parents' favorite post-supper program filtered through my thoughts: "Several unprovoked attacks over the last few weeks have escalated, leaving the citizens of Hidden Springs and the neighboring population of Border City locking their doors and staying home at night. It is this station's advice to stay home or within large crowds once darkness falls."

Could I escape, cut out too fast for them to notice? If they were really super, I-can't-pass-third-grade-gym-class-I'm-so-stoned, I could. Because seriously? I couldn't pass second-grade gym class, sober.

"Ooh, she looks like a librarian," one of the three boys slurred. "Duke, do you like librarians?"

Except for the book in my hands, I looked nothing like a librarian. In black leggings, sneakers, and a hoody pulled up against the wind, today I looked more like a borderline Goth without the make-up, black hair, and total 'I hate my life' bemoaning. Not that I ever paid enough attention to know if that's what they were like, but still. Not a librarian.

"No, she doesn't," another boy said, just as sluggish as the first. Were they drunk as well as stoned? Great. "But she's hot. Hey! I bet she knows where it is."

"Dude, she's fugly," one of the girls said.

I stumbled, looking at the group over my shoulder as I corrected myself. No longer silhouetted in shadows now that they'd crossed the middle of the field, I noticed the girl who spoke was small, wispy, and in desperate need of a shower with her dark unwashed hair hanging in strings to frame a thin, too-pale face.

The first boy I saw had short brown hair and clothes that hung. The other girl, stockier than the first, glared with a permanent scowl painted on her face and tight clothes that hugged her attributes in all the wrong ways. The third boy had dark, sandy blonde hair and was wearing clean, almost fashionable dark-wash jeans and a sky-blue hoody. If it weren't for his taste in friends, I could think he was cute.

I just about tripped again when my gaze met the watchful stare belonging to the fifth student, and my heart raced up to clog my airways. Evil. Or, at least what I imagined evil would look like if it had a face: sharp and chiseled... dark, and completely void of emotion. He was huge, at least six-four, and built like someone who threw trees—not just branches, but whole, you-cut-them-and-I'll-haul-them trunks of chopped forest.

Creepy.

His mouth lifted at the corners and my eyes focused back to the woods in front of me, and I had to remember to breathe. The stone fence was the finish line. Circling the field, it angled down to form a doorway, separating the woods from the fields with a wrought iron gate. As their steps thundered in my ears, the fear of their presence hit me with a cold splash of full-body perspiration, and I fumbled with my book. If I could get past those gates, which automatically locked when closed, I'd buy myself enough time to get away. All day, all I'd wanted was to go read in the fort that I'd visited since I was a child. Now, I would just be happy to get away and run home. Then lock the door behind me.

"Hey! Honey! Where'd your boyfriends hide our statue?" a boy called.

Their statue? Lucky Chuck? I'd heard of the damned thing—everyone knew about it. Whatever school had Lucky Chuck in their possession on game day was destined to win and each player took their turn rubbing its golden bald head just before the game began—for luck. It was the source of many, many pranks. I hadn't seen it, not even once. No matter which sport was in season—football, basketball, soccer—whoever had the statue always hid it, trying to keep others from stealing it.

"Leave me alone," I said, so low it would surprise me if they'd heard.

They are so close.

My breath came in shortened bursts. It was as though each heartbeat was trying to outrun the last, suffocating me with the frenzied race. If I weren't alone, I'd tell them to bugger off. If my best friend, Tina, was here, she'd tell them to go away. She lacked the self-preservation others held on to for survival and had the mouth of a farmer: blunt, loud, and dirty—so offensive she had learned to enjoy the taste of soap. Tina didn't take crap from anyone. Maybe, if I knew what was good for me, it was time for me to channel some of that attitude.

No, do not argue and they'll go away.

Except that they weren't going anywhere. Despite my increased pace, there was no longer any distance separating us. I couldn't get past the feeling that this was just... not good. If I didn't find a way to get away, they were going to make sure I regretted it. I didn't know it for a fact, of course, but I felt it. It was just as I somehow knew that they were involved with the attacks my parents had been watching on the news every night over the last week. Looking for a statue? No way was any of them involved in an organized sport, let alone cared about a statue that embodied school spirit.

Run. Fast! Now, before it's too late.

TWO

"Look, we just need our statue, okay?" The second girl sounded husky, as though suffering the side effects of a pack-a-day habit. The girl, who I decided to call Bitchy, reached out and flicked me in the back of my head.

"Stop it," I ordered, refusing to reach up and rub my hair so they couldn't realize the effect they were having on me. Why did I have to cut out early from study hall to read in the woods alone? Why hadn't I grabbed for my phone when I'd first seen them instead of worrying about stopping too long and letting them catch up? Who cared if they were able to reach me if it meant someone else was going to show up? Or if I'd stayed beside the school where everyone was bound to show up as soon as the bell rang?

It was so stupid.

I'm stupid.

"Where's the statue?" Bitchy asked, stepping up so that the tips of her shoe scuffed the heel of mine, and I almost fell.

I clenched my teeth and balled my fists at my sides, but she did it again.

"Stop it," I growled, clenching my teeth as I kept a death grip on the shoulder strap of my bag.

Everyone laughed.

"Look, we have a tournament this weekend against your punk-ass basketball team and we need it back," the whiney voice of the first girl chimed.

Right. As if skill isn't enough. I shot them another look and was surprised to see the massive boy's arm snaked around her waist. I turned away, the feel of his eyes boring through me and sickening my stomach even more than the stench of their hobby.

"I don't know where it is," I said, keeping my eyes on the ground. "Go ask someone on the team." I was pretty sure it wasn't basketball season but was too scared to point that out.

Someone knocked my book out of my fingers. I couldn't see who, but it didn't matter. No one was innocent. How could a group so out of it they couldn't even pull a sentence together without slurring manage such synchronized movements? Since I couldn't picture any one of them involved in a team sport, I didn't even want to imagine what they wanted Lucky Chuck for, if at all. It's just an excuse. Just as I'd known they were bad news the moment I saw them across the field, I knew this.

"Look, I don't know where the statue is," I said, finding my voice again, and was proud that it was louder than a whisper. "I just want to go home—"

They reached out and grabbed me, cutting me off. I screamed, automatically covering my head with my hands, and I felt my shoulder jostle as my bag fell to the underside of my elbow before I felt like I was being pulled in every direction from all sides.

My clothing ripped like the sound of a piece of paper torn down its center. They clutched the fabric without mercy, twisting and turning, and I tried to wrench myself away. I was so desperate to be free that holes soon appeared in places that were meant to be covered, and my skin flared with humiliation.

The attacks only happened at night! Why were they doing this? What did I do?

"Let me go!" I grunted and managed a quick step away before standing straight. With all my might, I reached back for power and then flung out my bag full of the weekend's homework. Narrowing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I smiled, triumphant when the heavy bag hit two of them with a clunking sound as it arched through the air.

"You'll pay for that!" Bitchy spat on the ground and shrugged her shoulders, dancing like a boxer in the ring. She stepped into my line of sight, preparing to flick me in the head again.

At least, that's what I hoped she meant to do, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. Swinging my fist and closing my eyes, my knuckles connected with her jaw. She screamed and hit me back in the stomach. The breath whooshed from my lungs as my body doubled over as I landed on my knees hard. I didn't know what hurt more: my stomach or my fist. At least my hand is throbbing for a worthy cause.

"You can't do this." My voice came out as a moan and I crawled across the hard, broken soil of gravel and mud far enough to get to my feet without the fear of being pushed back to the ground. The not-so-warming breeze had become bitter as the holes in my clothes fluttered. No amount of trying to grasp them to cover myself was helping and finally, I gave up.

They looked at one another and laughed.

The large boy dropped his hand from the girl's waist and took a step forward. Smiling so that I could see a gap in between his two front teeth, he met my gaze and said, "But we won't be caught. We never are."

They're never...Oh. My. God! I slapped my hand over my mouth and shook my head, feeling my stomach drop to meet his feet. Why didn't I run when I had a chance to get away? Now, the irrational fear I had felt when I saw them was validated. It isn't a statue they are after.

"Y-you can't do this." I dropped my hand and tried to step back, but my foot was stuck in a sinkhole of mud, which was the only deviation to the hard ground at the edge of the woods. Soft, wet, inescapable as it sucked my shoe down, down, down... Darting my gaze between the group and my foot, I sucked in my breath and said, "I've seen you. I-I know where you go to school."

I pulled on my foot again but froze when the large boy looked at me with cold brutality. He glanced around, regarded his friends with even stares, and then nodded. They circled around to crowd me on all sides, laughing at my naivety.

It was so close. I almost made it. The shadow of the gate cast against my skin, mocking me with its proximity, and I started to step backward.

But someone stuck their foot out to trip me. Bitchy, who stood in front of me, sprinted forward and shoved my shoulders. I teetered and then fell, and my foot jostled free. The mud coated my skin through the holes in my clothes, turning the white of my bra brown. Damn. It felt like I'd broken my ass. Could that happen? Or was breaking your ass like 'breaking a boob'—totally painful, but impossible. Pay attention, Alyssa. They don't care about your ass.

I looked back up, my eyes widening as they smirked down at me. I held my breath. There was a moment of pure silence—it couldn't have been more than a few seconds that were so quiet, even the sounds of animals and the rustling of the breeze seemed to be set on pause. Then, they pounced. Each person savagely tried to take a piece of me as though someone had flung a fifty to the ground and screamed, "Finders, Keepers!" after failing to advise that they couldn't rip it into pieces and share.

"Stop it!" I screamed until my throat was raw, hoping someone—anyone—had left school early and could hear me. That the students I had followed had changed their mind and came back to school instead of disappearing out of sight.

"Shut up," Bitchy said.

"Not so uppity now, are you, you Royal Bitch?" the large boy snarled right before he slapped me. "This is so much more fun in the daytime. I can see how scared you are. I don't know why we didn't start this sooner. Your Royals think you are so much better than us, and we are here to tell you that you're wrong."

Just as I found the effort to climb to my knees, my body twisted sideways from the power behind his attack as he hit me yet again, and I fell to my side. My hand cupped my cheek. What the—Ouch.

They dragged me by my arms and hair towards the gate I had coveted when I first saw them until it felt like someone had taken a grater to my back. I wanted to scream but no sound emerged. Sweat rolled down my spine and into the open wounds the rocky ground had created like acid gnawing into my skin. It burrowed deeper and deeper until the only place for it to go was out the other side. I tried to turn onto my stomach to slacken their grips, to create a relief in the fire burning my spine. The pull on my scalp loosened and I saw large tufts of my white-blonde hair fall beside me like dysmorphic flakes of snow the sun would never melt.

The relief lasted just long enough for holds to be reaffirmed, even tighter than before.

I kicked air and finally found my voice again, but I screamed for help that wouldn't come. My pain mutated into a sense of nothing. Despite my hopes, all my efforts were wasted. Everything I tried seemed only to provoke their drug-induced hatred. As I struggled to free myself, they struck me harder, evading my thrashing until I tired myself out.

Minutes seemed like hours. I tried to keep fighting, but soon my limbs were filled with the weight of fast-drying concrete, and all I managed was a whimper. The sky burst into brilliance. Grateful for an escape, no matter its form, I closed my eyes and lost all sense of reality.

Darkness was good; I was oblivious within its uncompromising hold.

THREE

Finding consciousness was like waking from a nightmare without the benefit of daylight, though I knew it wasn't a dream because my body felt like it was on fire. Everything hurt. I bit my lip and tried to determine where I was, though it was hard to see. Dusk filled my vision. All around, the wet, moldy leaves bunched on the ground, casting shadows to taunt me like jagged-edged boulders piled to be hurled my way. There was no real way to tell what time it was, though the sunset suggested at least seven. Not yet summer, it was dark by eight.

My parents were going to be pissed. Had Tina called yet? If my phone wasn't crushed within my bag, it wouldn't matter anyway—it was still on silent because I hadn't taken it out when I left, and I didn't even know if my bag had made it into the woods with me. Maybe someone would see it laying in the field and wonder if something was wrong? Maybe my parents would intuitively know I was gone against my will and come looking for me... I never went off on my own, not without my phone, and they'd made sure I knew to be home before dark since before I was old enough to tell time. Even without the events playing out on the news during the past week, it had been ingrained during my whole childhood. "Bad things happened at night," they'd always said.

Through eyes swollen to slits, I looked down, finally feeling like I was willing to try to move despite the flaming pain throughout my entire body. But I couldn't shift my body to get a better look around me. The bunch of leaves surrounding the trunk's base flattened beneath me to rise at my sides like I was sitting in a bean bag chair. I felt that my arms, already like soft noodles hardened by exposure, were tied behind my back around a tree. My shoulder blades stretched until they burned, the trunk too large for my small frame.

I forced my eyes wider. Feeling like it was the only part of my body that hadn't been broken, I was able to move my neck just enough to look around. Forgotten and alone, the forest was damp with leaves scattering the ground. Free from litter but reeking of snow mold, the bitterness that lingered on my tongue was strong enough to induce headaches, and my head swam. The only break from the trees my limited vision registered was four of the Elixir students sitting in a misshapen circle. They passed a pipe that steamed to fill the air while sharing a bottle filled with a clear liquid. Judging by their sourdough faces, it wasn't water. As soon as their actions registered, another, more pressing question caused me to stiffen with fear of the unknown. Where was the fifth? The boy who taunted with such brutal force.

"Have you ever shot a deer?"

I recoiled from the sound as the missing boy spoke from my right. The bark of the tree bit into the raw wounds on my back, and I held my agony back with a wince, squeezing my eyes shut as the breath whooshed from my lungs. Slowly, I opened them again, not wanting to let him see my pain and feel victory in it. My gaze darted from the group and then finally, to the boy.

I'm trapped.

"You should try it," he continued from his perch on a boulder a few feet away, his elbows resting on his knees. Without looking up from the stake he was carving with a silver pocketknife decorated with black skulls, he said, "Make sure you watch their eyes once they're in your sights. Wait until they know what's coming. You'll see them go from docile to frightened—" he snapped his fingers, and my hands twitched, the ties holding my arms back pinching the skin at my wrists"—to dead." He looked up and smiled. "It's fascinating."

I sucked in a breath. "You're sick."

He lunged forward and squeezed my cheeks until my lips pursed, popping as they were forced to open. His fist was like an oversized clamp digging into my bruised skin. Glaring at him, determined not to show fear, I could see his eyes were glazed and crazy, bloodshot and erratic. Releasing me, he smiled, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

He lifted his fist and feinted right, and then laughed to the sky, dropping his arm back to his side. Still smiling, he turned to go back to his rock, but then twirled faster than I could blink and kicked me.

My body folded around my stomach. Over-correcting, my back slammed into the tree and my head ricocheted forward so that my chin rested on my chest. Stars danced through the darkness edging my vision as my organs were pushed up to meet my heart. My breath rushed out like a popped balloon as the snap of foot against bone cracked the air as fiercely as it had my rib. I refused to cry out. Not only would I not give him the satisfaction, I was worried that if I opened my mouth, the nausea that was swirling within me would make itself known to the world by bringing up the miniscule lunch I'd eaten earlier.

I bit my lip against the pain and started to paw the ground behind me, raising my chin with defiance. The sun had set, and the trees blocked the slivers of the moon's glimmering glow. Only the shadows of trees and my captors were visible, illuminated by the slight burn of the security lamps around the school an entire field away. Thankfully, they aren't activated by motion or there would be no light at all. I continued to pat the ground in the two-inch diameter my confines allowed. Desperate, I extended my reach as far as I could without crying out in pain as my back skid against the tree. There must be something.

My hand tightened around what felt like a rock with scalpel-like edges and, despite the needles of incapacity crawling up my arms, I managed to maintain a firm hold. Do not fall asleep, I warned my limbs. I'm going to escape.

"Josh!" the wispy girl called and stood to try to grab his arm.

He tossed her back to the ground like a leg weight that joggers used while running—always annoying and uncomfortable, but never a hindrance. Bitchy, who had been watching with amused yet remote interest, while totally favoring the bruised jaw I was proud to take credit for, ran to her friend's side. She glared, staring not at Josh, but at me, with accusation.

"Be quiet, Sarah," Bitchy warned without shifting her gaze.

Bit-by-bit, I sawed the rock harder against the ropes—back and forth, back and forth—not wanting my movements to alert them. I fought the wince of acknowledgment, pausing only long enough to regain traction. Pushing deep, I put the last of my strength into the effort to escape, ignoring the pain as the rock's sharp edge repeatedly nicked my skin. My arms were weakening, losing feeling. As sweat trickled into my palms, warm in contrast to the cold numbness taking over the rest of my body, my skin pinched as I struggled to keep ahold of the rock.

"Josh," Sarah panted, pulling herself up onto her elbows. "Please, just stop. She doesn't know where it is."

He didn't listen. He was cracked, obviously insane before the additional aid of whatever drugs they'd taken. I'd never seen anything like it, and I'd seen a lot—the rich kids I went to school with knew how to party with Daddy's credit cards and Mommy's medications. They swapped and traded it all in addition to whatever was in their parents' liquor cabinets. But even Josh's friends, who had been gung-ho at the start of their so-called adventure, had been sobered by his cruelty.

"She's right."

The smallest boy stepped up on Josh's right while the remaining boy stepped up on his left. It was impossible to discern their features now, let alone learn their names, though I remembered one being called Duke. Neither was big enough to take down the one they called Josh—he was demented, a giant of a boy who sounded like a man. But maybe... If they were to combine their efforts, they could beat his ass like he'd beaten mine.

"She knows," Josh said, pinching his lips into a firm line as he kept his gaze on me.

"She would've told us by now."

"He's right. She doesn't know, Josh," the small boy reasoned, and then nodded to his friend. "Look, nobody's at Royal Academy anymore. Let's just find a way in and look around for it. I'm sure there is another way that you can get the statue to show that prick you don't like from the team up when no one from either school can find it."

"She knows."

Josh flashed his friends a glance I couldn't see, and instantly the fight went out of everyone. They went back to their circle with lowered eyes. Was that so that they couldn't see me? Speak no evil, see no evil... I'd have to make sure they could hear me, then. I couldn't move, but in my mind, I kicked Josh in his goodies until his goodies wouldn't do him or anyone else any good anymore. He sat on the ground in front of me and rested his forearms on his knees.

"What do you want from me?" The razor blades in my throat cut my voice to fragments.

"We know that your school took the statue. Where's it, hmm? Come on. If you tell us, I'll untie you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you even looking for the statue?"

"They are." He paused to check over his shoulder at his friends. When he turned to face me again, his eyes had crinkled at the corners and he wore a devilish grin filled with delight.

"But you aren't." I held my breath.

"No."

Slowly, I nodded, never looking away from him. I knew this should scare me, but suddenly I was filled with a calm, like having my earlier fears confirmed gave me a final sense of satisfaction. "Then all those attacks? That was you?"

"Sometimes Duke came with me." He looked at the smallest boy, squinching his nose, but then sobered and pointed at Bitchy. "But he really doesn't have the stomach for it, and I was tired of telling him excuses so he would come. Christa joined me after that. I don't have to justify what I do when I'm with her."

Bitchy. Of course, she would go with him. They enjoyed others' pain with their viciousness. In some asinine way, it almost sounded like bonding.

"Why me?"

He tilted his head as he studied me. "Why not you?"

"You must know that this is messed up."

He shrugged and pulled himself back up to his feet when the other boys returned. Josh laughed and hit me across the face. "Where is it?"

The iron taste of blood rose up my throat to gag me. The rock, too slippery to keep hold of, slipped from my numbed fingers as the realization of what I'd already done dawned on me. I could feel the slickness coating my palms as it trailed my limps fingers before dripping to the ground behind me. The mistake would be fatal, I knew, but I was grateful to have beaten them to it. Sure, I knew the vomit-inducing nausea I felt and the swimming in my head could be lethal if not treated, but this was faster. On my terms, not theirs, even though it wasn't what I intended to do.

Josh pulled me from my thoughts and grabbed my face. In my foolish attempt to jerk away, I scraped my cheek against the tree. Slivers of bark embedded into my skin, a fresh wave of agony nauseating me. If Josh applied the slightest increase of pressure, my jaw would break, and then crumble like a cube of sugar between thumb and finger.

I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. The blood that had gathered oozed a slow trail from the corner of my mouth down my chin to drizzle on the ground. The soil, hungry for my life-source, absorbed it with drought-inspired thirst. I forced a grin, knowing my teeth would be stained with crimson evidence. Sarah screamed that I was dying, though nobody responded, so I didn't know if she was speaking to Josh or everyone. I wanted to tell her to shut her mouth, to hit her until she had to shut her mouth. But then, feeling an irrational desire to soothe her, I wanted to say that I no longer felt pain.

It was funny how I imagined they were killing me, and, in the end, I took my own life. There hadn't been any indication of what was happening until after it was complete. There was no pain as my blood soaked the ground undetected by my tormentors, dripping from the ragged gashes the rock had made as I naively tried to saw through the ropes but dug grooves into my wrists instead. Sure, I'd felt the nicks and slices at first, but the feeling had long since left my body—at least from my elbows to the tips of my fingers. I was surprised I was able to grip the rock for as long as I had, though now I realized I'd held it far too long. Coupled with the blood I'd already lost during the attack and possible internal bleeding, the gashes I'd made in my wrists were going to kill me.

I was weak already and the feeling grew stronger as time passed.

A calmness settled over me as I willed myself to accept the end.

Death was hard to admit, but I didn't care like I knew I should. I fought hard, more than I knew possible, and even in my final moments, I wanted to live. Who wouldn't? If someone told me when I woke this morning that today would be my own personal D-Day, I would have laughed. Who has a Death Day? Maybe it would have been easier to deal with had I known, though either way, death was death.

One thought repeated as the end pronounced itself with familiar darkness: justice. It was the only thing I had left to believe in, almost... a dying wish. I would gladly sacrifice my life to make sure that nobody else was. At least, when my death shed light on the attacks leading up to it, I was happy to know the Elixir students would learn how wrong they'd been to choose me as their last victim.

FOUR

Black is death. It holds no light and bears no sound; it exists as a hole to prove your insignificance within the universe and, inside the darkness swirling around me, I felt nothing. For all the pain and build-up leading to death, dying happened in an instant. A breath. Then, like the sun setting on an evening sky, I was gone.

It would be a lie if I pretended that I hadn't thought about my mortality, the moment 'life' would end. But whenever I'd thought about dying, I imagined it would occur on a stormy day, signs from the cosmos to mourn my passing. It wasn't a stormy day, though, like the universe just didn't care. I expected to feel sad—sixteen was too young to die. Instead, I felt... content, though I knew that couldn't be normal either. Every moment, each breath I had taken, from the moment I was born until my heart stopped beating, had led to this. People I didn't know, all the strangers I would never get the opportunity to meet, would be able to find peace because of the justice my death served. The police would connect the dots to the attacks, and I had meant something. At least to those the Elixir students had already hurt.

Images surfaced through the darkness like a movie behind the lids of my eyes, moving too quickly to comprehend their meaning. There was no semblance of events and no way of pushing pause. I couldn't follow the flickering pictures as they passed to find their detail, but I knew their familiarity with the glimpses I managed to grasp. It was about me: my family, my friends, and all the memories that I had taken sixteen years to build.

It is my life.

The photos slowed, and I watched as they formed scenes that played out before me as a crude black and white film before the inclusion of sound.

Each stage of my life was run: my childhood in the only home I'd ever known with parents who loved me, their 'miracle baby'; starting school and making friends; going to high school and losing friends until only one true friend remained; all my successes and failures; and everything I dreamed of having or doing, but would never be able to experience. There was so much that I was going to miss now—first prom, the first day of college, my first love...

The last week of my life appeared, slowing to a near stand-still. Every movement crawled across the makeshift screen. Sound and then color emerged, and the images burst into life. Every hateful word I'd heard echoed in my head. I tried to squeeze my eyes tight, to block it out, but it became clearer.

How do you turn away from images inside your own head?

It was eerie and hard to digest. The days appeared sequenced like events providing a motive for a perfectly executed suicide. I was grounded for the first time—or, I should say, my parents had enforced my being grounded for the first time. I was humiliated in the lunch room in front of everyone, was hit playing Dodgeball so that I wound up with a bloody nose, failed quizzes I knew nothing about—and that was just Monday through Tuesday. Now, as though it wasn't bad enough to have lived through it, I had to suffer watching its playback, scene by agonizing scene.

What had I done to deserve this?

The images began to fade, slowing to a crawl after I witnessed my last breath, my body still tied to the tree as the Elixir students traded their pipe and what I assumed was vodka for pills. They hadn't realized my death yet or the fact that I was already beyond saving. Their ignorance was baffling. The thought of hearing their screams of discovery when they checked on me was pleasant, though I knew it was wrong to think that. Still, I wanted them to hurt with the knowledge of what they'd done. If they felt a fraction of what I had—not the pain, obviously, since by the time I died my body was numb—they would never be content again. Maybe that would urge them all to spend a life dedicated to doing good things for a change.

It was a reaction I would never see. The images of my life became stationary when my body stopped working, as though no longer able to gather new data. Was it a grace period after I stopped breathing during which I could have been saved within that allowed me the few extra minutes? I didn't know.

Either way, it wasn't long enough.

I need more time.

My whole life was summed up in a few minutes, sliding through time faster than they were experienced, though I guess that is how life works in the end. All the moments are just that—moments. The experiences I'd had skated by in the time it takes to snap your fingers. Even the most horrifying and prolonged instants slithered past in a series of pictures, glimpses of what happened to lead me to this moment. Death—the moment my life ceased to exist. It was all just a series of flashes strung together.

With my final thought, I realized that my life had been short-lived, unfinished. The darkness closed its curtain on the image, and I was once again a part of the nothingness that Death created for its newly acquired souls while I waited to endure whatever came next.

FIVE

Death is strange, almost like being forced to sleep.

I felt its pain—or at least the tortures that led to dying—followed by its confusion. But somehow, I woke up, blinking as I was bombarded by a too-bright light. My body jerked, one second complacent as I lay on the soft floor of where I was with my arm above my head, and the next feeling on edge as though someone had dumped a bucket of ants on me. How was I awake? Breathing? It was just another bizarre thing I couldn't figure out—I died and didn't seem to be dead. Was that possible or was I going insane? Because judging by my new accommodations, I was certifiable.

There was no sound, only light. There was no floor, yet I didn't fall. There were no walls, no trees... nothing. There was no end in sight. The white fluff surrounding me made me feel as though I was inside a snow globe of nothing but a sea of cloud and light, too bright and insubstantial for comfort. I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was choking on too pure of an air supply that my lungs weren't capable of recognizing.

It was amazing. Terrifying. I was overwhelmed with a fear of the unknown.

I looked at my wrists—no wounds. The gashes and rope burns had vanished without explanation, and I felt no pain. How could that be? My heart began racing to an invisible finish line. It hadn't been a dream—no way was my imagination that active. My emotions began to take a rollercoaster ride. I'd been content, woke up feeling jarred, and now... This was unnerving.

"Alyssa Frank."

My body froze, and I held my breath to listen, but nothing followed. God. Now I was hearing voices in my head? I exhaled slowly. Yep. Get me committed. Okay, Aly, breathe. It's just your imagination giving you an early heart attack. Why would you worry about that if you're already dead?

"Alyssa Frank."

I jumped, and my heart rate began to pitter-patter, pumping blood through my veins so fast, I could feel the rush. The disembodied voice that resounded again was like the surround-sound in a movie theatre without a screen. That wasn't your imagination, Nimrod. Pay attention!

The voice was everywhere... and nowhere. It wasn't female or male; it simply was. But it wasn't. I felt like I'd gone schizophrenic. Voices, delusions, thinking that something was watching me—all bad signs. Why was this so weird? Why couldn't whatever power that ruled life just let me live or die, and stop with all the confusion? I was so confused. It would have been better to remain in the darkness, feeling nothing.

"W-who's there?" I pulled in a deep breath, my eyes darting around as if somehow, I'd be able to see what wasn't there. "Who are you? Where am I?" I pulled myself to my knees and rested my hands on my thighs. "Hello?"

"Alyssa Frank," the voice called again, its pitch lower than before.

A chill ran through my body and my skin rose as a chicken plucked of its feathers. My eyes burned, but I couldn't blink. If I closed them, just for a second, I would miss something. Or get hurt. Was that crazy? I'd died, and I was worried about a voice? I swallowed the lump in my throat. If it didn't feel so real, I would laugh at how far-fetched it was.

"Oh, come on! You know my name. What's yours? Hmm?" The disorientation I'd felt when I woke began to subside, allowing me to think more clearly.

A faint breeze blew from behind me, gusting my hair into my face. I pursed my lips and puffed the strands away from my mouth, trying without success to hold it back with my hands.

"Alyssa Frank, you have been brought here for the judgment of your mortal life before you will be able to move into the afterlife that you are deemed worthy of." The voice was higher now, just as vacant. Robotic. "I believe mortals call it life after death."

"Who are you?" Silence. I stood and looked around, holding my hair away at my nape until the skin on my face felt taught. "Where am I?"

"Neither Heaven nor Hell, but you are far from the living."

Yeah, and that makes so much sense. I rolled my eyes and looked to my right. As the voice talked, the fear I'd felt began to subside, becoming replaced with annoyance. I'd already died. It wasn't like it could kill me. If the voice was going to hurt me, it would have done so by now, right?

"So." I swallowed and squeezed my surroundings from sight. "I'm not crazy? I mean, I totally died, right?"

"Of course. You died from the wounds that you inflicted upon yourself."

Of course?  I groaned. Waking up after death was so normal it was expected that I should know what was going on. There was no reason I should find an encounter with a voice that had no body strange. Nope, not at all peculiar. Scary? Oh yeah, I was scared, but only of what would happen next. Every inch of my body hummed. I didn't know whether to cry or laugh, but I fought against both.

Wait. What had the voice just said?

"The wounds that I...? Oh, hell no!" I slammed my fist against my thigh. It should hurt, but I didn't feel it—I didn't feel anything. I should probably worry about that. But with so many crucial questions that needed to be answered, the fact that I couldn't feel pain didn't factor. The voice's non-answers wiped away the last of my unease and I became defensive. "I was trying to save myself."

The voice didn't answer.

The air in front of me blurred, swirling in circles like cotton candy being spun, and I paused. I drew in a deep breath and watched without breathing as the white haze of ethereal fog that surrounded me parted in front of where I stood. An image formed in its place. It was me, wearing the same clothes I died in. I was in front of the trees, but not the trunk I had been tied to. Instead, I was lying on my back upon the ground, free from the binds I had struggled to loosen. There were no visible wounds from the attack or holes ripped in my clothing. The leaves Spring had melted free blew with the wind to settle on my lifeless body. I appeared to be hugging my journal, smeared with the still-wet blood that had seeped from the hidden gashes in my wrists, to my chest.

My gaze zeroed in on the journal.

I wrote everything in that journal, and after the week I'd had...  Oh, my God! The things that I had written. The humiliation. The pain. Every slight I had felt during my final week of life was recorded with black, horrifying detail against the white of the journal's pages. I was screwed. The sadness I'd written about was indisputable. All my anger, all my disillusion, and all my dejected thoughts and feelings would be there for everyone to read. Nobody, not even the parents who knew and loved me, would believe anyone other than me had caused my death.

I would never kill myself.

That should be enough, right? I fell back to my knees as the realization settled. There'd be no stopping the attacks Josh and his friends were responsible for, no punishing them for what they had already done to others. I was going to become another statistic for teen suicide, the tales that schools and parents used to tell their kids what not to do. TV specials popped into my head: "If it ever becomes too much to handle..." and "Before you do something drastic, like hurting yourself, talk to someone. Don't bottle it up."

I hadn't helped anyone find closure for the attacks in Hidden Springs and Border City. The Elixir students had a taste of death; only being caught would stop them. My death would motivate Josh to do it again. Sure, none of them had really murdered me, but their actions had provided the circumstances that had led me to the rock that I'd used to slit my wrists.

"That..." I swallowed. "That's not how it happened." I pointed at the image and twisted my body to look around, looking for the voice to appear where it hadn't before because I needed something tangible to scream at. "I wouldn't kill myself!"

"Be that as it may, Alyssa Frank, it is what you have done. You would have survived the other wounds had you not cut yourself in an attempt to escape."

"Oh? Then tell me, why does it look like I didn't suffer at all?"

Silence. The voice had done something, I was sure of it—the idiot Elixir students weren't smart enough to cover up my death, and I would bet my entire savings account that they had run when they'd found my body was cold. Why would the voice alter it? Why would it do that to me?

"Don't ignore me!" I twisted around again, my voice becoming a near-growl as my anger spiked to skyrocketing proportions. "Why are all the wounds I suffered gone?"

"The other wounds were insignificant. Your death was brought by your hand, and that is what the world will see."

"Why?" I grit my teeth to keep from literally screaming.

"Your fate wasn't to die today, and these students were not meant to kill you. Their involvement will not be known."

"So, what? Did you cover it up? Do you know how many people they have hurt?" I pointed at the image. "They will kill someone if you let them go. Just because they didn't kill me doesn't mean they are innocent."

"We do not judge the living."

I snorted, my anger dissipating into disbelief. Was the voice stupid? "Just how the dead have lived?"

"If not for our judgment, no peace could be gained after death for those who are worthy."

The dispassionate voice sawed my patience down to but a thread with its analytical replies, so emotionless it made me feel like I needed to hit something to release the building pressure of my frustration. It nullified the very reason I accepted my death. But then, how could the voice understand?

There was no way it had a soul.

SIX

Rage burned through me again and my temper snapped. I wouldn't let the voice do this, not now when there was nothing left to lose. The hesitation the unknown had had me feeling dissipated, and I allowed the anger the voice had lit within me take over. I was dead. It wasn't like I would be made to suffer more than I already had.

"So, what, now I'm going to be judged on that? One mistake! Like nothing I've done until now matters? My intent means nothing to you, whatever the hell you might be?

"How can you ignore what happened? With all your powers and insight and I'm assuming goodness"—I made finger quotations in the air, as I really wasn't sure how good the voice was—" how can you let them go and then judge me? What gives you that right? At least my intentions were good. They wanted to hurt me. Worse, they enjoyed it. Now, not only are they not held accountable, but you helped them get away with it. Where's the fairness or-or... or the justice in that? That group will hurt someone else and you know it!"

I paced back and forth, each step taking another piece of my anger and throwing it into the vast whiteness overwhelming me on all sides. Pausing, I looked back at the image. There is no weapon. The voice had taken care of staging my suicide, but they'd forgotten to include a weapon? I squinted. Not even the rock was there. No trail of blood. That was good. All I needed was a detective with a sharp eye and...

Were suicides ever investigated?

"Your anger does you no good here, Alyssa Frank."

My gaze darted around, the voice pulling me from my thoughts. "Then tell me, what would 'do me good'?" I rolled my eyes and slumped, defeated, and felt like I had just gone through the entire grief cycle in a matter of minutes. My gaze remained on the image.

Dead.

Alone.

It was all lies. A joke, just like my life, too short and unfulfilled to be considered anything else. How could I deal with this when the only reason I had accepted what happened was so that it would help others? It wasn't fair.

"To listen," the voice said in the lowest pitch it'd used since it had presented itself, almost as though stifling a chuckle. But that was crazier than waking after dying. Whoever—whatever—the voice was, it wouldn't know humor if it sat down for dinner with a court jester. Obviously, that was how medieval its mindset was because I was sure the voice wouldn't know who a modern-day comedian was.

"Then stop talking in riddles," I ordered.

I sucked in my breath, the fresh air sliding down my throat like an ice cube that hadn't melted: rough and cool, and hard to swallow. Why should I worry about how the voice was going to react? It couldn't kill me or send me to my room. Hell, maybe, but I wasn't convinced yet. Besides, I'd already proven pain was nonexistent wherever here was. Give me your best shot.

"To take one's own life is an act against God."

"So is murder," I said without thinking, positive that God had nothing to do with what happened to me. If He could allow this? Well, that didn't say much about the possibility of there being a higher power. It was easier to believe that He didn't exist. "I wasn't thinking about God. I told you, I was trying to save myself. Jesus Chri—" I winced. "Sorry."

"Your actions may have been to save yourself, but you didn't regret them in the end. When you knew that death would come, you welcomed it." The voice paused, and the silence was a heavy weight on my chest. Every inch of my body was one great big raw nerve ending ready to sizzle whatever was ballsy enough to touch me.

"So?" I shifted. "I'm not a robot like you. I feel pain. Do I regret trying to save myself? No. Do I regret not feeling any more pain? Or fear? Or not gagging on the taste of my own blood? No, I do not feel regret. Not for accepting death when I thought I had nothing left to choose from. At that point, it was pretty inevitable, don't you think? I thought I was going to help the people they'd already hurt!"

I tried to bite my tongue before saying something to further damn my soul, or whatever the voice was in charge of judging. It didn't last. "This is ridiculous! I thought I was cutting the rope." I held my hands up in front of me to prove my point, which was ridiculous with nothing left to see. Dropping them back to my sides, I said, "Okay, yeah, I may have cut myself, but it's because of those asswipes that I'm dead. They beat me until I was numb. But, this obviously means diddly-squat to you, so can we cut the chitchat and move on? Seriously, this is worse than getting beaten, and I would know."

The voice was silent, the air heavy. The breeze came to a lull, just for a minute, and I felt like I was in a sauna which Hell burned its coals to heat from below. What did the voice want? Did it expect something? What was normal for this kind of situation?

Groaning, I balled my fists at my sides. "Tell me what you want from me!"

"If you choose judgment, Alyssa Frank, it will not be favorable."

My retort died on my lips, the implication confusing. I rolled the words around in my head once more, but clarity remained elusive. "Choose?" I scoffed, and the volume of my voice swelled to a higher octave. "Like I have a choice!"

"You do." The voice paused, and I waited for it to continue, hoping for something—anything—to explain away the craziness of the situation. "There's always a choice, right or wrong, for you to make."

"What?"

"You were not meant to die today, Alyssa Frank. Despite knowing that you welcomed Death when he came for you, we believe that you did not wish to die."

"We? Seriously?" I threw my arms up, then down, and rolled my eyes. "I'm so confused."

"We cannot help someone who wants to die."

"So, I accepted it. Big deal. I knew I was dying, and I was okay with that because I was going to help others by dying. You twisted it, though, until it was all for nothing."

"But you didn't want to die."

I shook my head. The breeze subsided into a warm and calming touch against my skin, like feathers dancing across its surface. "What does this mean? I bypass judgment and go to Heaven, or do I choose to be judged and go to Hell? Or, assuming there's a very real possibility that you are enjoying this, do you plan on keeping me on a cloud for eternity?"

"Do you understand the selfishness of your actions? That everyone you love endures a pain beyond physical wounds if you die? Do you regret this, Alyssa Frank?"

How many times had I listened to my parents scold me about the right choice to make, and then wait for me to make it? This was the same. The only thing the voice had failed to explain was the point. Why did any of it matter now? I did what I did, and it was too late to change it. I was dead—you can't take that back with a receipt or exchange it for something better. Death is a Final Sale—you can't even get in-store credit.

I opened my mouth to speak and then shut it before sound escaped, squinting as I thought about what they said again. It would be too easy to tell them what they wanted to hear. I knew the voice would know that's all I was doing. So, I thought of my parents, all my friends—even my dog, Scruffy. How sad would I be if any one of them died? I regretted causing them that pain, not just for a moment or a day, but forever. The ache of losing a loved one would never cease, even if the intensity of the loss eased. It lived in the people left behind.

It was a good thing the anger I felt over the injustice of my death was overshadowing the sadness of leaving my loved ones behind. If not, there would have been no way to think, let alone say, what I felt. I didn't want them to think of me that way: sad and alone and hating life, feeling like things had gotten too bad to talk about. I loved life, what little of it I had been able to experience, and my journal entries were going to cause the people I loved to doubt that.

"Alyssa—"

"I regret that my death will cause them pain," I said quickly, "but I think that they would be hurt to know what I endured. It'd be nice to believe that they wouldn't want that for me even though you've fudged the truth of what happened." Shifting my weight, I looked around. "They wouldn't want that for me. I know this because I love them as much as they love me, and I wouldn't want that for them. My parents say that to live for others is not living at all and... Well, that makes sense to me, so I guess that's what I believe."

"Very well."

"Say again?" I blinked. Very well what?

"Thank you, Alyssa Frank, for your honesty. We wish you success."

A sharp buzz split the open space around me but stopped before I had time to cover my ears. The voice was gone, I somehow knew, but the warmth remained. The presence, the suffocating heaviness in the air, dissipated.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I whispered. The voice wouldn't answer—or answer the question with another frustrating question—if it were still here. What came next?

What the hell just happened?

Everything went dark.

Was this their response? My judgment was passed and now I was left in eternal darkness? My breathing grew rapid and shallow, and my eyes closed in answer to an overwhelming need for sleep that I suddenly couldn't deny, thankfully robbing me of consciousness.

SEVEN

There was no way to determine what to expect the next time I opened my eyes, or even if I would open them again. All kinds of scenarios flashed through my mind before I became fully conscious. I pictured myself still tied to the tree in the woods and realizing the cloud had been a part of my imagination—how could that be real? Maybe it was a dream, or some loser had roofied me at a party and I was taking the scenic route on a really long-ass trip. For all I knew, it had all been real and this was the illusion. I could still be on the cloud or in a fiery hell dimension somewhere, sentenced to eternal damnation for wickedness that wasn't really a sin.

The last thing I thought to expect was waking up with my head plastered to an open page of my journal with drool while I sat at the L-shaped mahogany desk in the left-hand-corner of my bedroom. How did I get home?

I jerked up and stood so fast, my chair flew back to hit the drawers at the bottom of my bed's white frame. I patted down every inch of my body while watching in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door to make sure nothing had changed—it hadn't. Oh, thank God (I think). I wouldn't have minded if I'd somehow grown out of the A-cup I'd been cursed with, but everything else was as it had been when I died. All in all, I still looked twelve instead of sixteen—seventeen in a month.

For once, I was just fine with that.

"Aly, Honey?" my mom called, poking her head through the crack in my bedroom door. "Tina's on the phone. She said you weren't answering your cell."

I twisted at the hip without moving my legs and smiled. It was so good to see her, comforting in a way nobody my age would ever admit, and I almost ran to her side.

"Five minutes, okay? You're still grounded."

The urge to be held evaporated like steam rising in the air, and I paused.

"Wait. What? Why?" Was I in the poop end of the pool because I had died? That was so not my fault!

"Nice try, Honey, but you are still grounded."

She smiled, and I noticed, looking for what was probably the first time in my teenage life, that she was pretty, for a mom. She was short, like me, and like her, I had blonde hair that appeared near-white it was so pale. I just hoped that my hair didn't wind up devoid of color at nineteen as hers had. My mom had to dye her hair blonde now because nothing else would stick. Otherwise, she would totally look like a well-preserved grandmother at the young age of thirty-eight.

"Mom—"

"I don't care how good your grades are, Aly. We don't skip class."

"That's not what I was going to say." I rolled my eyes and breathed a deep sigh as I realized what was going on.

It must be Friday again.

That's when I had been grounded, one week before I died.

How the hell had that happened? I sat down on the edge of my bed and stared blankly at the maroon walls, blinded by confusion. Why is this happening to me? I liked things that made sense: math, history, things with definite, unchangeable outcomes that I could predict or memorize. This? Not even close.

"Alyssa, you are wasting your five minutes arguing with me."

I looked at my phone without moving and then at my desk, noticing the dates on the flip calendar on the wall beside it were only circled up to the Friday before I died. How did I get sent back a whole week? Why?

"Alyssa." My mom sighed and shifted her weight. "Do you just want me to tell Tina you are grounded?"

I jerked my gaze back to her. The last thing I wanted to do was chat. After dying, it was pretty low on my list of things to do, like playing little league after starring in the majors. You don't just pick up the phone for the latest gossip after something like this.

"No, no. I just..." I swallowed and looked up with a tight smile to meet her worried gaze. "I love you." We didn't say it enough. People say that you just know when someone loves you, even when they don't say it—they didn't have to—but those people were wrong. Telling someone that you loved them was the most important thing you should do, like, ever. If I wasn't worried about the inevitable drug test I'd be given, I'd say it twice.

She shook her head and mumbled, "I love you too, Honey." Before I could answer, she followed up with, "You're still grounded."

Scruffy, the little traitor, pranced down his steps at the side of my bed and followed her to the kitchen. He knew she'd indulge in giving him treats while my dad was gone, just as I knew whenever I was in trouble—the whole one time now—my mother would be a buffer between me and harsher punishment. During the first time around, before I died, I'd been grounded for a month and it had been whittled down to a mere week during supper.

I picked up the extension in my room, bracing it on my shoulder to yell, "Got it!" I waited for the click before talking.

"Okay—Ow!"

Tina's outburst made me smile. As my best friend, she was pretty much my entire universe. When I was sad or mad or happy or anything, she was the person I turned to, even if it was just so that I wouldn't have to endure the silence of my thoughts alone.

"Don't scream in my ear."

"Sorry," I said, and walked back to stare at myself in the mirror once more. Would she believe me if I told her what happened? "What's up?"

"Are you really grounded?"

"Uh..." I balanced the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I turned to view myself from the side.

"You never get grounded."

"Um, I guess I am?" I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and tried to remember what had happened last Friday.

My dad had headed out right after supper to get files from his office and my mom had let me talk to Tina for five minutes. When that turned into ten and my dad got home, I'd been busted. If I didn't want to lose my cell phone until Wednesday and have the home phone extension in my room removed, we'd better talk fast.

"Yeah, well, my parents found out I skipped class."

"Right, and you think they are they going to stick with it?" She laughed. "Just watch, tomorrow you'll be inviting me over for dinner."

"Um, do you mind... Can we just talk at school, Tina?" I didn't want to sound harsh, but how did I explain to my best friend that I wasn't up for chitchat because I died? Oh, and to top that, I was brought back to life. Just don't ask me why because I had no freaking clue. So, going with the most obvious smoke-screen I could think of, I hoped that she wouldn't think about it further until after our conversation was over. "I don't want my dad to catch me on the phone or he'll extend my sentence."

"No, he won't." She giggled again. The fact that she was right was annoying. "You never get grounded, Aly."

"Until now," I mumbled. I knew my parents would follow through with it this time—they already had. Sure, it had been over at the end of the week without an extension, but still. There weren't words to explain to Tina why I needed time to be alone.

Tina lowered her voice, finally picking up on my less-than-eager tone, and asked, "You okay?"

Tina was the smartest ditz I'd ever met. It took her a while to catch on, but once concern took root, she was a bloodhound leading a hunting party directly to its prey. We'd only known each other for a year, but it had been a good one. It felt like so much longer to us. If I told anyone about what happened, it would be her. But it was too incomprehensible to say out loud, even to myself. I hadn't figured out the delusional factor yet—was it all in my head? —so it was probably best to just shut my mouth. If I didn't think about it, it would be like it hadn't happened.

"I'm good. Just tired," I admitted without having to lie. Maybe being exhausted was normal after coming back from death; I didn't have anyone I could ask.

"Fine. I'll meet you at school," she said, and I didn't feel the need to reply before clicking off my phone.

With only two days to figure out what was going on, there wasn't a minute to waste.

Placing my phone back on its charger, I double-checked that my cell phone was turned to mute while it was charging on my bedside table, and then stood straight to continue to study my reflection in the mirror. Nothing had changed. All the wounds I had suffered were gone and the only pain I felt now was the headache brewing as I tried to piece together the impossible. Is it a dream? Should I run down to my mom and tell her to have me committed?

No. It happened. Any other explanation would make me crazy and everything that occurred since I woke, I remembered happening before. But why? What was the point of all of this? What needed to change?

I couldn't forget the most important question of all: how could I avoid dying again?

*****

"The most recent incident marks the second attack this week. William James, a seventy-two-year-old man, was assaulted by a single assailant while he was walking back from a family dinner just two blocks from his home. He is in critical but stable condition and is expected to make a full recovery. At this time, the police have no leads and are asking anyone with any information to come forward."

"Ugh. That is just disgraceful," my mother said as she pointed her fork at the television. She swallowed her mouthful of food and asked, "How do children think that is fun? Their parents should be arrested for allowing such monsters to roam free."

My father, having given up time at work to deal with my truancy, was working at the office. It was Saturday and we were eating lunch, but he would be home for dinner. She would talk about the attacks again, I knew. They would dissect it in detail, which meant there was no reason for me to answer now. Besides, the description the newscaster provided made me want to laugh. Blonde hair? The only detail they had wasn't even accurate.

The need to laugh morphed into a desire to scream.

Two attacks. Josh, Sarah, Christy, and Duke. I knew all but one of their names and no last names, so sending an anonymous tip was ridiculous. What would I say? Uh, yes... some kids...? Right. But otherwise, could I help? Would an anonymous tip do anything at this point? Was it possible to go to Elixir and point out who was responsible for the attacks, or would the police think I was an ex-girlfriend bent on getting revenge on her loser boyfriend? I could never tell them how I knew, just that they should trust I was right. At least with Josh. Duke had helped, according to Josh, but not with this attack. Christy obviously hadn't joined him yet. Sarah and the other boy... Was I their first?

I might as well be wrapped with a bow and offered as a party favor.

Setting my fork down, I looked up and asked, "May I be excused?"

"You've barely eaten." My mom glanced from the television to me, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah, but listening to people being beaten kills my appetite, Mom." I shrugged. "I'm grounded, aren't I? Can I go to my room?"

She watched me for a moment and then nodded. Rushing before she asked anything else, I picked up my plate and took it to the kitchen, scraping the left-over salad into the garbage before setting the dishes aside to be washed. Before my foot touched the stairs, my mother found the remote. The volume of the television increased, echoing as I tried to escape its sound. It was mocking me, taunting with every word to say that I could stop this.

It's too bad I didn't know how.

EIGHT

THE BROTHERS

THE MORTAL REALM

Since we were charged with protecting the girl, I was there when she was first plucked out of transition. I'd never seen it before, the delay into the afterlife. It was too rare, and even now I didn't know why it happened with her. Passing souls were judged by the Brother who ferried them between worlds, not by all the Brothers as a whole. Who was she to warrant such an honor? What made her special?

I turned to the First Brother, trying to measure my voice as my impatience spiked. "So, who is she?"

"She hasn't arrived yet."

He motioned to a bench where the humans waited in the frigid morning air for the bus to arrive with friends. It didn't matter where we went. We could sit in the same spot as another and it wouldn't be detected—nobody could see us unless we allowed it. It wasn't magic; we simply didn't exist here, unaffected by nature and time and human afflictions. Things were better this way. Easier.

"I don't want to do this," I said, but then sat down as directed, always dutiful. Resting my elbows on my knees to lean forward and scan the crowds of students with distaste, I tried but failed to find a reason to make me want to stay. Nothing about humans appealed to me. They were ignorant and selfish, and a burden that marred the perfection my kind had been created with. "There are lower beings that can do this."

"There was one of our kind ordered to watch her," the First said. "He disappeared."

I blinked, otherwise unmoving. "We do not disappear."

"Then do you know where the boy is? Have you found him?" His tone was abrupt but not unkind.

All the Brothers were direct, bordering on crass. We arrived at the point as soon as possible, but even when we were angry our voices were a representation of the Glory within our souls. Our duties, growing in numbers and importance as the human population sprouted out of control, didn't leave time for the nicety's humans were hung up on. For feelings.

"No, I don't, and I haven't."

He scrubbed his hand down his face and lowered his voice to within a whisper, and the resignation was clear in the blue of his eyes when he turned and met my gaze. "If the boy hasn't disappeared, he has died. Or worse, he could have turned."

Leaning back against the bench, I crossed my arms while continuing to scan the crowd. Where is she? "Death is less likely than a disappearance." I glanced at him and then continued to survey the crowd. "But I know this boy, Brother. He didn't—and wouldn't—have turned."

"It doesn't matter now."

He gazed at me without apology, looking like one of the many statues carved to honor our kind. He had honey-blonde hair and a deep tan that would never fade, set off in contrast to our uniform white robe. It was his expression that was emotionless, a picture of beauty carved into stone, which had been captured by one lucky mortal to be replicated in art throughout the expanse of time.

"We all agreed you are best suited for this task while we look for the boy."

"I agreed to no such thing."

"You are but one of seven, a single voice of dissent. Majority rules, Brother," he said.

"And yet we don't know why the task was given."

"We don't have to."

"Because we never question orders?" I stood and wiped my hands on the front of the unfamiliar jeans, which were as foreign as the face I was about to wear. The clothing was worlds away from the usual white robe that we donned for our duties, which were so all-consuming the robes had become our only source of apparel. "They aren't His orders."

"Perhaps, but Fate has His ear, and so we are to treat their orders as if they are from Him," he said and shrugged as if it were that simple. Before this, it had been. "We must do this, and it must be you."

"Do you know why?" I watched him, narrowing my eyes. If anyone, as the First he would have been included in whatever plan we'd become a part of. As the Second, I had important tasks to care to, most of which were tailored to my... specialties. Each of the seven Brothers had one or more the others could not duplicate. Was that why I had to be here? "Any one of us could do this. My duties—"

"Will be handled, Brother. I will see to them in your absence." He had little time to fulfill his own duties, which solidified how serious this job was. He stood and pointed through the crowds. "Do you see her now?"

I turned and stared in the direction his hand extended to see my new charge, another first I was humbled to have to experience. In the thousands of years since Creation, I'd never taken a charge as my own. I was proficient at delegating the task to lesser beings that both feared and respected our authority over them. Our power. Only my brothers had taken a charge—a couple had taken more than one—but our participation never ended advantageously for those involved.

"Do you—"

"I see her, Brother," I said, my voice so soft I didn't know if he could hear me.

How could I not see her? Even muted, her inner warmth radiated, shining through an invisible barrier of protection only time could dissolve. It was brighter than the sun. I'd seen many humans, but her beauty rivaled Heaven's in direct contradiction to her lowly existence.

"She needs your help."

I narrowed my gaze at the girl and then turned to meet his stare, dismayed. Had he gone blind? The purity within her was unprecedented, and even without eyes, I wouldn't have been able to miss seeing it shine. "Don't you see it?"

"I do." The First nodded.

He was so... blasé. He, who always harped about the importance of humans despite our own superiority, should be jumping with excitement. But he remained aloof, undeterred. For the First Brother, she was the object at the center of our newest job, and nothing would penetrate his resolve to gain favorable results. Nothing ever could.

"She's made of goodness, a pure form within all of this sin. This is why you have been appointed. Help her to realize her strength and purpose, Brother, or she will be vulnerable. Corruption..." He shook his head and loose strands of his light hair fell into his eyes. He blew it off his face and said, "Corruption is everywhere. You've seen it."

"There's so much more than purity..." My voice trailed off and I turned back to watch her walk into the school as gracefully as a ballerina. I almost stepped away to follow, like a fish being reeled in for supper, so deep was the thrall.

"You know what makes her special then?" he asked, unsurprisingly, since the ability to help humans realize this was one of my gifts, though too much proximity was like sending a muse to an artist for too long and watching them go crazy. Still, just because they were helped by my presence, I wasn't always made aware of what they were to discover before they became aware of it.

His hand landed on my shoulder, staying my feet. I wanted to brush it away and follow her. I needed to. Everything within me wanted to know everything there was to know about her. What did she fill her free time doing? What did she enjoy eating? What was her favorite song? Book? Color? Dessert? I wanted to be close enough to know if she smelled as good as she looked, and to hear her speak. Would it be as melodic as I imagined? It isn't possible.

"I... just know that she is special." I shook my head and sighed without looking away from the girl. Let me go so I can find out, Brother. "I don't know why, but I should. Do you? You must."

"I do not, nor does He. We know only that the Sisters ordered this and requested you to complete the task. The girl's life was taken in error and they cannot intervene without violating the laws that Death upholds."

"I must go now," I said as though he hadn't spoken at all.

I felt pulled. No matter how hard his hand lay on my shoulder, I couldn't fight the urge to leave, drawn by an overwhelming desire to protect her. With such a brightly burning light, Darkness would swarm her to cloak her within its shadows. Darkness loved nothing more than the light, finding and destroying it until it could shine no more.

The First lifted his hand so I could move. "You must manifest yourself so that humans can see you. Show them the boy so suspicion isn't raised," he warned. "She must not know who you truly are. Nobody can know who you are."

I nodded and closed my eyes to tune into the power within me, available with a surging intensity within a moment's intention. Not because of what I was, but who. It was a perk of being one of the highest-ranked beings, not only of my kind but all kind. It was as easy as breathing, if I was in need of air for survival. The power within me faded, burrowing itself beneath the façade of my mortal form to remain undetected until I called upon it once more.

I looked down at my own tanned complexion and took my first step forward, shedding my true form of dark, ebony hair and skin as tanned as the First. My borrowed identity solidified before my second step landed on the pavement separating the school from the benches we'd been sitting on. I felt short at six-one compared to my usual six-five. It was like the lesser height was somehow the physical manifestation of the demoted power and authority I held in mortal form.

The air shimmered as I remembered the props that I would need, and books for school and made-up transcripts appeared in my hands. Attending high school had never been on my 'to-do' list. I'd be grateful when it was complete, and I could erase the memory of the impending experience from my well of stored memories. My kind didn't need to be educated on what we were present to experience. Except, perhaps, humanity—I must learn what it is like to feel human.

Angels were anything but humane.

NINE

ALYSSA

The only plan I came up with over the weekend was to avoid everything that had led to the events of my death.

At least, that was my strategy. Without knowing the reason why I was sent back or what I was expected to change, the only thing I could do over the weekend was to talk myself into not asking my parents to have me committed. If the voice was more explicit, maybe I could just do as it said and forget the rest, but no. Everything I saw and heard reminded me that my life was set on repeat.

I walked into the gray halls of school Monday morning, tired and on edge like someone was watching me, knowing I could change everything. Why wouldn't I want to turn the week from hell into the best of my life? I didn't even have to do anything but avoid what I had done before. It was a solid goal, in my opinion.

Pausing as I reached my locker, I smiled and waved at Suzie, who glared in return as she lounged against her locker at the far end of the hallway, basking in the glow of being the center of her friends' attention. It's amazing what a decent herkie and a little flexibility can reward you with, though the girl could yell—we'd screamed at each other all the time over the years.

She was my best friend before Tina transferred to Royal Academy. An old tale turned sour: Suzie and I were best friends, attached at the hip since kindergarten. Then, one day, she joined the cheerleading squad and realized what it's like to be popular. When she was appointed captain, we didn't talk, and it was like I no longer existed. That was hard, but the day after, I Tina and I became friends. So really, it was like Suzie did me a favor.

That's what I tell myself to feel better, but really? I miss how it used to be.

"Hey, Aly," Tina called, her voice echoing through the hall from the main door where her mom drops her off—a one-way arrangement since it was on Mrs. Amorfati's way to work. Her feet squeaked against the floor as she ran towards me. "What was up with you Friday night and oh, I don't know, all weekend?"

My gaze turned slowly away from Suzie as Tina wiggled in beside me at my locker, shoving the gangly freshman to my right out of her way. He cast an angry glance back at her before shaking his mop of red hair and ambling down the hall for his first class of the day. How was it possible she avoided trouble she couldn't haggle her way out of? Did she even consider others?

"Are you still grounded?" She turned, resting her back against the locker, and crossed her arms so that she could watch everyone as they passed while we talked. Looking at me for a moment out of the corner of her eyes, she said, "You better be since you didn't call—and please note how I say this for the second time—all freaking weekend!"

"I was tired after arguing with my parents." Shrugging, I managed to dodge her fist as she reached out to thump me in the arm. "I'm still grounded, and my dad was home all weekend, so no, I'm sorry, but I couldn't call you." I looked up and tried to counter my tone with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry."

"Seriously? Didn't you tell them why you cut class?" she asked, turning to wave at another student who called out her name.

Darcy? Debbie? I didn't know the girl she was waving to, but I thought her name started with a D. Tina was the social one, though I could never go as far as calling her popular. That would include parties and, more likely than not, boys. I was still waiting for the day she told me boys stopped being 'ew', or she liked girls. Either way was cool.

"It won't help, Tina. My dad is pissed."

"You didn't at least try?" Her voice raised into a squeal and I had to grit my teeth together in an effort not to try to silence her. It was so close to how Sarah, the frail girl from Elixir, had sounded, and I didn't need the reminder.

"No, I didn't." Not this time.

"Why?"

"Because... I don't know." Pausing, I glanced up and shrugged, and then reached into my locker to pull out my forgotten Health textbook. I held it up, rubbing it with my palm as I blew off the thin layer of dust that had accumulated from lack of use. Pinching my lips to keep the dust from entering my mouth, I took a step back, away from the cloud. "We have a good reason, but we still did it."

She crossed her eyes at me and opened her mouth.

"There are more important things to worry about than being grounded, and really, it's only for a week."

"Are you going to that class now?" Tina's dark brown eyes grew large, accusing me from behind her oversized white-rimmed glasses plucked straight out of a fifty's sitcom. "Seriously?"

"Uh, yeah?" I nodded, rolling my eyes as I looked away. Drama would be perfect for her to major in when she hit college.

"You can't be serious, Alyssa."

"Yeah, Tina, I am." The bang of my locker door echoed down the hallway as students worked their way through the crowds to their classes. Turning to her, I hugged my books to my chest, and said, "I don't have a choice. You should come, too."

"Not a chance in hell." She snorted, and I winced.

The seemingly meaningless phrase reminded me too well of my recent experience, and how close it had almost been my reality. To be or not to be—Heaven or Hell... That is the question.

"There are other ways to boycott what we're learning, you know," I said, looking at her out of the corner of my eyes as we started to walk to class. "We can tell our parents and they could make a stink." I rolled my eyes and tilted my head to look at her sideways. "Maybe your mom would be okay with it, but mine wouldn't. My dad would flip out if he knew the real reason we're ditching health class."

Watching my dad flip on teachers might be worth it.

"Aly, it is health. We have to learn about sex." She tossed her curly black hair over her shoulder and fell into step beside me.

When her chirpy attitude dissolved into the pout of a five-year-old, I felt my tolerance start to crack. There was so little time and too much to figure out. The reasons I was sent back weren't so clear, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't to babysit.

"They'll just say it's in the curriculum," she said.

"Maybe. But there's a reason that porn is Rated-R. Mr. Tinsley didn't send home permission slips," I said and suppressed a shudder.

While the class didn't matter, I cared about what my parents would think or say if I didn't go, and if Death came back for me, I could at least die without being such a disappointment. Not that they remembered the last time, but still. I remembered, and that was enough weight for one conscience to bear.

"Aside from being totally illegal, that's super creepy, and my dad would freak if I told him. I can't believe the school hasn't realized what he's been doing."

"So, let's skip it and go to the library," she said, smiling as the thought lit her eyes with excitement.

"Are you going to be the one to explain that to my dad?"

"No, seriously." She skipped ahead and then turned to walk backward so she could face me. "Let's skip and go to the library, okay? We could even do a paper about sex to prove we didn't have anything against the lessons, just the way Mr. Dumbass teaches the material. Trust me, Aly, we have so many horn-dogs in this school, the library is overflowing with books and magazines on the subject. Also?" She leaned forward, looked to the right and left, and then lowered her voice. "The bathroom walls are very informative."

"Uh..."

She nodded, continuing before I could form a thought coherent enough to speak aloud. "We can rat Mr. Tinsley out to our parents after we do a paper or something, and I'll bet we won't even get bitched out for skipping afterward. You won't be grounded anymore, either."

We stepped in front of the classroom door for Health and she grabbed at my arm. I shrugged her off, trying not to drop the books clasped to my chest. What was her deal? "Tina, this is ridiculous. Just come to class, okay? We can rat him out later if that's what you want. Please?"

The first time around, I didn't go back to class. Now, I don't know what I was meant to change, or what would happen if everything remained the same. Not knowing made me want to change as much as I could, and not just for myself. I saw so much, and knew things that hadn't happened yet, so why not help others? The voice called me selfish? Right. That's what I am.

I'm as selfish as the voice is human.

Shifting my weight, I shook the thoughts out of my head—I had a plan to avoid the problems I'd found the first time around—and hugged my books tighter to my chest as though that would keep me on track. Focus. Looking at Tina, I cocked my head, sticking my lower lip out and batting my eyes. "Puh-lease come with me? I don't want to go alone."

She opened her mouth, but then rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine," she said and lifted her finger to point at my face. "But you owe me."

TEN

Tina scowled and brushed past me to enter the room, trying and totally failing to seem angry. More like scared, which made no sense at all. What was her deal? Uncomfortable, I could understand, but scared? Timid? I didn't understand that. It went against everything I knew about Tina.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." I laughed and pushed her towards her desk. That wasn't the voice I meant.

"Look who has graced us with their presence!" Mr. Tinsley exclaimed in a booming voice and a clap of his hands that seemed to echo, stretching the sound out even when his hands fell to his side.

I jumped and felt my face burn when everyone turned to look at us. Tina's frown turned murderous, directed, it seemed, only at Mr. Tinsley. Suzie, sitting in the back row between two of her cheerleader buddies, narrowed her blue-green gaze at us and smirked. When Mr. Tinsley didn't follow up with a reprimand she rolled her eyes and slowly, as if for special dramatization, turned in her seat to talk with her so-called friends. Would her friends be such good buddies if their social status wasn't raised by being in her orbit?

So not my problem.

I took my seat beside Tina and wondered what the hell was going on. She was always blunt and this—her quiet, subdued attitude that dripped with venom—was uncharacteristic to the point of worrisome. It was unlikely Mr. Tinsley was going to play his stupid videos again—that section was over. Besides, there was no T.V. in the room today. Maybe someone had ratted him out already.

No. Something like that wouldn't happen without hitting the gossip circuit.

"You two have a test to make up." Mr. Tinsley smiled at us.

My body began to tingle, and it felt impossible to curb the shudder that wanted to wrack my body as it screamed, "Run." Sure, Mr. Tinsley was good looking, for a teacher. But a natural head of thick dark blonde hair and a friendly smile wasn't enough to push me to overlook his creepiness. It wasn't just one thing, but everything. Each of his actions was geared towards another end. The way he looked at the girls in the class? Always calling on them with an appreciative smile while ignoring the boys? If I ever played truth or dare, I was going to make a boy wear a stuffed bra to Mr. Tinsley's class, just to see the attention he would be paid.

"You can meet me here right after school and we can go over what you need to review," he said, regaining my attention. "I'd like to have this done by the weekend."

I shrugged and glanced at Tina, but she refused to look at me. A white line appeared around her mouth, and when he smiled at her, I saw her cringe. What the hell was up with her? I couldn't figure it out. In the year we'd been friends, she'd never acted this way.

Mr. Tinsley began taking attendance and I twisted in my seat to pay attention, mentally listing the questions to ask Tina the moment the bell rang.

I opened my textbook and tried to concentrate on the material we'd missed. I knew about the birds and bees—my mom told me when I was nine—but these terms were foreign. I was doomed. The upside? I was grounded, which meant I had time to study. Cringing as the book closed with a bang, I was grateful the noise was absorbed by knuckles rapping against the door.

Mr. Tinsley sighed at the interruption and walked over to answer. Someone stuck their arm through, handing Mr. Tinsley a note, and then Mr. Tinsley opened the door wider to let the person through. A boy came in, not at all self-conscious over the attention he was receiving. Listening to Mr. Tinsley, he began to scan the room with deep blue eyes hooded by dark lashes and an even darker head of hair, short on the sides and shaggy on top.

"We have a new student." Mr. Tinsley waved what I assumed to be the enrollment form in the air. "Thank you, uh... hmm. Mr. Parson." He turned to the new guy and spread his arms out at his side, nodding to the class. "Why don't you introduce yourself? Where are you from? What do you do for fun?"

"It's David," the boy said in a deep gravely voice and crossed his arms so that the loose black t-shirt he wore stretched across his arms.

Every muscle corded under the material as his shirt stretched, and I knew I wasn't the only one who noticed. How could it be missed? I looked around and saw that even Suzie, who had a gorgeous boyfriend of her own, was looking with an approving smile on her face. Shaking my head, I lowered my gaze back to the books on my desk and tried to ignore the alertness my body felt in response to his presence. Yeah, he was hot, but it was... more, like there was an energy exuding from David that I was reacting to on a cellular level.

"I'm from all around," David said, seeming dismissive.

"What do you do for fun?" Mr. Tinsley prodded.

I tried to pretend to read the textbook, but that was only so nobody knew I was hanging on David's every word. It was a useless attempt, and like gravity had switched direction, my head lifted seemingly against my own will, pulled up to watch Mr. Tinsley and David at the front of the classroom.

David studied Mr. Tinsley and shrugged. If I were interested, like maybe if I lived past Friday, I'd notice how hot he was—like hot-hot, not just for high school but people stopping to take his picture. Despite the in-your-face physique and the appeal of his refusal to answer the teacher I disliked most, I couldn't get past the fact that his silence prolonged the day from moving forward.

I was pretty sure I had changes to make.

Another flicker of annoyance crossed Mr. Tinsley's face before he masked it with a well-practiced smile, and in that one unhidden moment, my skin crawled like an anthill nestled just below the surface. "Well, David, why don't you take a seat behind Miss Frank? Alyssa, raise your hand."

I looked up and held David's gaze, startled to see that he had singled me out as though knowing that Mr. Tinsley was talking to me before I answered. I looked behind me, holding my breath, but realized there was just one possibility when the only empty seat was located behind my desk. Licking my lips, I rolled my eyes but obeyed, ducking my head to stare at my desk as I pushed my hand up high.

Like he was going to miss the only empty desk in the room.

Teachers were so dumb sometimes, and if David was stupid enough to not know where to sit, then he was nothing more than a pretty face. I should double-check my standards. Scratch that. I'd never been kissed, so either I had too high of standards, or none at all. Either way, I should evaluate what they ought to be.

David smiled as he passed, and I made a point of opening my book. It was a challenge not to look while the image of his arms remained front and center in my mind, making me feel like asking for a hug while the minutes ticked down until I could flee. What can I say? I'm a girl. Of course, I snuck a final peek as he passed me.

But I wished I hadn't. Where he'd seemed so perfect, too perfect to be real, I found a flaw. Suddenly, he was human. Mortal. No longer a god blessed by perfection. If I hadn't chosen that moment to look, I would never have noticed. A scar ran down his jaw from ear-to-chin, just under the chisel. It was hardly a millimeter thick, but with the angle that I saw him at as he passed by was perfect, and the scar seemed to glow. Who has a perfect scar?

It was a struggle to force myself to look away, but at least once that was over, he was out of sight, out of mind as he sat behind me. Sure, I knew he was there since my body seemed to have a radar to his proximity, but I was able to concentrate on Tina and Mr. Tinsley. Even as I ignored David's presence, by the end of class, I hadn't figured out what was going on between them, and I was seriously considering the fact that it might all be in my head. The only clue that I hadn't imagined it was when Tina flew out of her seat without waiting for me when the bell rang, leaving Mr. Tinsley staring after her with what seemed like longing.

She didn't even wait for me as I slowly followed her, glaring at Mr. Tinsley as I exited. When I entered the hallway, Tina was nowhere in sight, and I sighed as I headed to my locker to get the books for my next class.

The rest of the day flew by. For the most part, I managed to keep my focus away from the new guy. David Parson. What was he? Catnip? I also avoided the public humiliation that I'd suffered in the cafeteria at the hands of the cheerleaders—Suzie Whithall was in a 'mood', meaning everyone else had to watch the hell out. Instead, I took Tina out for lunch. Was it avoidance if I already suffered through it? By not experiencing it twice, I was simply making the rest of the week more tolerable. How else was I supposed to do anything good?

Tina didn't show again until school was over for the day after I went to Mr. Tinsley's class alone. When she found me in the parking lot, all she had to say was that she'd 'forgot', but there's no way she was being honest, not after the way I saw her and Mr. Tinsley acting together. Slipped her mind? Right... More like it was the only thing she could think about. And when she couldn't come up with a satisfactory excuse?

She did what I wanted to come Friday: avoid the problem.

ELEVEN

"How was school?" my mother asked, casting her eyes between me and my father as she took a bite of her supper.

The blonde in her hair was darker, meaning it had been 'Spa Day'. That didn't happen a whole lot. Elixir and Royal were separated by one thing: money. If I hadn't gotten a scholarship, I wouldn't have fit in with hand-me-downs and—kill me now—no car. But it meant that they weren't as worried about me as I imagined, or else they would be saving every penny to make tuition payments without a scholarship.

Still, my dad was peeved that I'd skipped and didn't speak to me unless he had to. Even then, his answers were relayed in monosyllabic grunts of acknowledgment.

Raising my head, I shoved food in my mouth and nodded, my fork dangling in my hand above my plate in case I needed to scoop more in fast. "Fine."

"Did anything new happen?"

"New kid... David something." I shrugged and stuffed another forkful of food in my mouth.

If I acted like the new kid wasn't a big deal, he wasn't. I mean, it didn't matter that I couldn't stop thinking about the guy if I didn't tell anyone that was the case. The fact that everything that should be going through my mind wasn't didn't matter. Not if I didn't admit it. Still, I didn't get it. No guy in school had ever caught my attention like this and it didn't make sense—I hadn't even talked to him!

"Where is he from?" My mom leaned forward, interrupting my internal tirade. The laugh lines around her mouth and eyes creased when she smiled, more evident under the bright lighting of the chandelier hanging low over the six-person table.

"Around, I guess." I wish I knew.

"Alyssa, don't be rude," my father warned, and a flash of anger lit his eyes.

At least he is speaking to me. In a black suit and blue-and-white striped tie, he was still dressed in office clothes. I knew skipping class wasn't just about rules for him—it jeopardized my scholarship. Without that, our comfortable living wouldn't be so easy. I understood, on some level, much more now than the first time around.

"I'm not being rude," I defended, setting my fork down on my plate to meet his gaze head-on. "David told everyone that. He's from around, as in all over? Mr. Tinsley made him introduce himself to the class."

"Mr. Tinsley?" My mother sat back in her chair, beaming at my father. "So, you went back to class? You see, Joe? I told you she'd do the right thing."

"She shouldn't have skipped class in the first place." He leveled his gaze at my mother and took another bite of chicken, spearing it without even looking at his plate. He pointed his fork at her in the air towards me and added, "That would have been the right thing to do."

I would love the opportunity to see their high school transcripts. How many classes had they skipped when they were sixteen? At least I had a reason for doing it, other than free love or rock bands, or whatever decade they swung with. Swing dancing? I bet they were pros with The Twist, though they didn't seem old enough for that. Maybe it's what they'd made fun of their parents for, before becoming just like them.

"The class should be banned from the mandatory study," I muttered.

My father lowered his water glass and glared at me. "It's important for teenagers to learn the facts of life, Alyssa. It prepares them against being taken advantage of."

"Oh, please, Dad." I rolled my eyes and pushed my plate away. "All the girls who plan on slutting around already are. We all know about this crap, and Mom had that talk with me like, seven years ago."

His anger morphed into confusion, his thick, dark blonde eyebrows knitting together like caterpillars racing to meet each other in the center of his forehead, but never quite meeting past the bridge of his nose. "Then why are you skipping class, Alyssa?"

"Does it matter? It's not like I was napping or doing drugs or some other delinquent activity. Seriously, where is the trust?" I leaned forward and braced my weight with my hands on either side of my plate. "Tina and I were in the library, studying."

"Tina cut class with you? Does her mother know?"

"I don't know?" Probably not. I glanced from him to my mother. "Please don't say anything about it."

"Why?" My mother placed her pale hand on my arm and watched as I struggled to answer her.

Bite your tongue, Aly.

"Alyssa, if you don't give me a reason, I'll have to call her mom." My dad's voice cut through my thoughts, just as intense as before, but without the harshness. "I would like an answer."

"It's okay," my mother added with a forced smile and sharp glance at my father.

"We were studying sex education..." I began fingering the tablecloth. What did they want me to say? "It was uncomfortable, okay?"

"Everyone has to learn about—"

"He made us watch porn, Dad," I blurted, shifting in my seat. The only thing more uncomfortable than watching porn in a class full of your friends? Talking about it with your father. So much for shutting my big mouth, Idiot.

"What?" He slammed his fist down, slowing them at the last possible second so they landed on the top of the table silently, and the vein in his forehead throbbed. "I'm going to go to that school—"

"Joe, please," my mother soothed, darting her eyes back to me as he bent to lean forward at the waist, his chin resting on his chest as he stared down to the table. "Why didn't you tell us this before, Alyssa? Did something happen?"

My dad's head snapped up. "Did he touch you?"

"No! Dad, he didn't touch me." I rolled my eyes but then thought about class today. Mr. Tinsley never touched me, not even in passing. He didn't reprimand us or yell, appearing happy we had returned. That's normal enough—teachers couldn't teach without students—but he never addressed me.

"But?"

My dad's breathing became ragged, heavy, and his eyes narrowed to slits. If my mother wasn't here, the conversation would be over. His protective instincts were stronger than any wrong I could commit, and it dawned on me that I've never seen him angry. Pissy, yeah, but angry? Not like this. As big as my father was, Mr. Tinsley didn't stand a chance.

I shook my head and smiled. "It's nothing, okay? I just didn't like the movies Mr. Tinsley made us watch. When Tina suggested we skip that section, I was okay with it. It was wrong, okay? I know that, and I will never do it again."

"Aly—"

"It's okay, Honey, I promise," my mother cut my father off from what sounded like the start of more demands. She moved to sit in the chair next to me, presumably to provide comfort, but the proximity felt stifling.

"I don't know anything for sure, Mom."

"That's okay."

I darted my eyes between my parents, unsure. "Can you make sure Dad doesn't run off and kill someone?"

"Yes."

"I won't run off, Alyssa," he promised, though if he thought I was hurt? Nothing he promised would be worth the breath it took to say.

"Okay, well, I cut class because the, uh... movies made me uncomfortable. It felt dirty, not just watching it, but with so many people?" I swallowed, my eyes going wide. "I mean, I—it's not like I watch it... outside of school, but ew, you know? It was so—"

"Alyssa, I promised not to run off, but my patience is thin."

"Right." I nodded, clasping the tablecloth for distraction. "Anyway, Tina and I skipped so we wouldn't have to watch it. I thought it was strange, you know? He didn't even get permission slips. I told Tina last week—and today, actually—that we should tell someone, but she told me to forget it." I shrugged, letting the cloth go. She wanted to justify it, but there was no way to explain that. "So I did."

"Why?" My parents shared a glance.

"Because she wanted me to? I don't know. It seemed like a solid plan at the time. But I went back today since you were so mad and..." I sighed. "Frankly? Being grounded sucks. So, I told Tina that I didn't want to go alone, and she came with me. She was acting weird, though, like she hated Mr. Tinsley or something."

"That doesn't mean—"

"He didn't say anything about our absences, Mom. He was happy we came back, but he never said anything to me. Only Tina. Mr. Tinsley didn't even look at me past noticing my existence. He stared at Tina until that new kid, David, knocked on the door. It was creepy." I shuddered and almost smiled at the thought of David. I'd felt so grubby in comparison in my jeans with a hole in the knee and faded blue hoodie that had once been purple.

Shut your mind off the boy, Dum-dum. If you smile, your father will go berserk.

"Honey..." My mom pushed my hair off my face and looked down at me with the kind of sympathetic smile you give to someone as you say your condolences to at a funeral.

I glanced around the room, not wanting to look at either of my parents. It would be easier to go back to thoughts of the new kid or even how I might die come Friday, just four sleeps away.

"He told us to stop by after school to get the study material for a make-up test on Friday. Tina refused to go. She just didn't show up, and I had to go alone. When she found me to drive her home, she said she 'forgot'."

"You did what?"

The table shook as my father's fist pounded against its top, and I flinched. If he kept this up our table would wind up with more dents in its wood than the shingles of a roof after a hail storm. The glasses of water toppled onto their sides, pooling together until the tablecloth was soggy. My mother reached out to the cloth and then to me, and then cupped her head in her hands.

"Oh, Honey." It was impossible to tell who she was trying to comfort, she looked so torn.

"Go to your room, Alyssa," my father said between clenched teeth.

"Why?"

"Honey, please just do as your father asks, okay?" Sitting up straight once again, her voice was quiet but soothing, and she stroked my hair back away from my face as she used to during the stories they'd read to me before bed when I was in grade school. "We need to talk."

"But—"

"Please, Alyssa. Go to your room." She dropped her hand and looked at my father. He was concentrating on breathing, staring at the tablecloth with his hands braced on the table's ledge with so much force it looked like the bones in his hand would protrude from his flesh.

Darting my eyes between them, I took a deep breath and nodded, and then dropped my gaze to the floor. It was about the movies until my parents' questions spurned new suspicions. What happened? And why, if something did occur, hadn't Tina told me? She was going to kill me, but even if it ended as bad as things with Suzie turned out, I would accept the consequences.

If my death had taught me nothing else, it was that.

"Fine, but if you decide to do something about Mr. Tinsley, tell me first, okay? I can't stop you, but I can at least know so I'm not surprised. Tina didn't say anything, so it's not like we know it's true."

My mother nodded, and my father hesitated. Just for a moment. Then he relented, nodding. Tina was about to be hit with the debris of this conversation and she didn't even know it. Could she forgive me? I couldn't regret making a change like this, not when it might stop a creep from abusing his authority and let me avoid seeing him. Tina was strong. She could handle it—if I gave her a heads up.

At least, that was the hope, because this was all new to me. The first time around, I had taken a stance and refused to go back to Mr. Tinsley's class—I'd been grounded and figured going to class wouldn't change the outcome. But now that I'd returned and forced Tina to come with me, I had seen the way they acted towards each other. I couldn't ignore the way she reacted to his presence. Was this what I missed the first time around and needed to change for the better? Because Tina deserved to be helped, no matter if there was something else I hadn't realized. I mean, how could anything else be worse than what I assumed this was?

I just hoped I could survive it and keep my best friend along the way.

TWELVE

Scruffy shoved his wet nose in my face the next morning to nudge me awake ten minutes before my alarm went off. I tried to push him off without opening my eyes. "Go away, Scruffy. Tell Mom to let you outside."

He barked and nudged me again. I threw off the comforter and sat up. Scruffy licked my hand and crawled under the heap of blankets to snuggle in, curling up by my feet. "You little pooper." I laughed and lay down again, reaching over to switch the alarm off. Once I was awake, I was up for the day. "You didn't even need to go out, did you?"

A soft knock sounded, and my dad poked his head into the room, holding the door with one hand and a fresh cup of coffee in the other. He was already dressed for the office and seemed... pleasant. Pleasant? Obviously, we hadn't shared the same supper last night.

"Aly-bear, you awake?"

"I'm up." I pointed to Scruffy's mound and grinned. "Canine alarm clock."

"Okay. Well, you can go back to sleep if you want, Honey. You and Tina won't be going to school today." He spoke as though he was telling me it was going to rain and I should bring an umbrella for protection—totally factual and without emotion. He turned to leave, and the door began to close.

"What?"

I struggled to sit back up. The blankets stuck beneath Scruffy and became restrictive, holding my legs prisoner. A tiny Maltese who needs stairs to get on the bed shouldn't have enough weight to trap me, but I couldn't move.

"You promised to tell me if you were going to do something."

"I nodded, actually, which isn't speaking." He cocked his head to the left, looking chagrined, but then shrugged. "I am telling you now, Aly. Your mother and I spoke with Tina's parents, and we all decided to get in touch with the school." He took a sip of his coffee and smacked his lips. "Everyone will be coming here to talk."

"Who's everyone, Dad?" I groaned and shoved my tangled hair out of my face. Tina is going to kill me. "You should have told me."

"Tina and her mom will be here any minute, and some of the school officials will arrive at ten," he said over the rim of his mug.

It wasn't surprising that Tina's dad wasn't coming—did he know?

"It's nothing official, Aly, but some more facts are needed about what happened."

"Or didn't happen," I said, narrowing my gaze. Had something occurred or had I tarnished a good, though slightly misguided, man's name? No. It felt right, and he was wrong. At the very least, Mr. Tinsley shouldn't have shown his students porn.

My father nodded again and left the entrance to my bedroom to answer the front door when the bells chimed throughout the house. I could hear my mother banging around in the kitchen and felt just as cheesed at her for failing to keep their promise. They weren't supposed to do anything until they told me first.

Dammit. Getting Tina to say what did or did not happen would be difficult. Hell, she didn't tell me, and I was her best friend. I lay back down under the covers and stared at the ceiling, sorry that I had opened my mouth. Would Tina forgive me? Could she? Or was I about to lose a best friend for the second time in the same year?

So far my plan to avoid everything and just get through the week had backfired, and I was pretty sure that what I had assumed was a crap week before was about to get a whole new definition.

My bedroom door flew open and Tina stomped inside. She was still dressed in pink pajamas with white teddy bears. Her eyes were red from crying, highlighted compared to the white frames of her glasses. The door slammed shut behind her, and I pulled my covers higher, trying without success to cover my face. Scruffy is such a blanket hog.

"What the hell did you tell your parents about me and Mr. Tinsley?" she demanded and placed her hand on her hip.

"Uh..." My eyes darted to the closed door behind Tina, only slightly hoping one of my parents would come and play mediator between us.

Anger, I could handle, but Tina never cried. That scared the hell out of me, and for once, I was speechless. I'd rather choose judgment than endure this, to have to see her pain and know that I was the cause. Mr. Tinsley was such an ass, and if he was ever reincarnated, I hope he came back as a girl so he could realize how wrong he was. Or maybe a rock. Unmoving, insignificant, and alone, which was much less than he deserved.

"Why didn't you tell me you planned all this?"

"I didn't plan anything, Tina. We were having dinner and the topic came up, which is normal. You know, since I'm grounded for it?" Pulling into a sitting position, I glared back at her, finding it easier to defend myself against accusations than tears. "My dad grilled me with questions when he found out about the porn. I told you that would happen. Why do you think I was calling last night? If you'd have answered, I would've told you then."

"I can't believe you did this to me." She shook her head and closed her puffy eyes.

"And I can't believe that you didn't!" I exclaimed, slamming my hands down on top of the blanket so hard I scared Scruffy out of the bed and into the dark, open space of my closet. We both watched without a word until only the glow of Scruffy's brown eyes were visible. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled to calm my impatience, and slowly turned my head to focus on Tina again. "Why wouldn't you tell me? And don't you dare lie to me, Tina. I know something happened."

"Why should I tell you? So you can go tell your parents?" She glowered, though her lower lip trembled.

Was she mad at me or herself? Mr. Tinsley? I hoped she was smart enough to place the blame where it belongs.

"I don't think so."

"I won't say anything. But you should," I said, ignoring her as she rolled her eyes at me. "You need to at least talk to someone. If that's me? Great. If it's everyone downstairs? Even better. At least telling them can keep Mr. Tinsley from being an ass to other girls. But really, I don't care if you say nothing to them." I waved my hand, palm-out, and then pointed to the covers. "Scratch that. I do care, but only because it's the right thing to do. You need to talk about it, Tina, even if it's just with a counselor or psychiatrist—psychologist? —or whatever."

I pulled myself to my knees, waving my arms back and forth in front of me as I finished speaking for effect. How could she not say anything? Why be mad at me? I wasn't the one hurting her. No matter what she thought was happening, if Mr. Tinsley was touching her, it was hurting her. Even if she didn't feel any pain.

A single tear escaped down her cheek and she swiped at it with an angry gesture, looking up at the ceiling as though asking for celestial guidance. It was a wasted effort. After dying and now this? No way God existed. After everything that I'd been through, I did believe there was... something else. But as far as I was concerned now, he was a myth. A necessity. When children grew up and stopped believing in Santa Claus, God is what the world believed in to keep their morality in check. Laws just made it official, though far from perfect.

"You think we can stop it? That Mr. Tinsley will be held accountable?"

"I do." I nodded and crawled off the bed to stand in front of her, making sure we weren't touching. "But what are you going to do? I mean, if you do nothing, he'll probably still be teaching when Des goes to school."

"My sister? Oh, that's low, Aly," she mumbled and grew thoughtful. "How did you know? And what do you think you know?"

I shrugged. "You were acting funky, and once my parents began grilling me, I realized that he was acting weird towards you. I didn't know I was right, though, until now."

"So, I guess I don't have a choice, huh?" She dropped her head into her hands and whimpered, cocking her head to the side so that she wouldn't have to meet my gaze. "God, I'm so embarrassed, Aly."

"Don't," I ordered. "First of all, you always have a choice, Tina," I said, remembering what the voice told me. "Secondly, you did nothing wrong, okay? He did. Seriously, Tina? He's your teacher. Do you get that? This is entirely on him. I don't want you to blame yourself for one minute."

"Okay." She inhaled and moved her hands away from her face to rest them at her sides, limp and unmoving. Her body slouched, and she seemed resigned with the decision. "I'll tell you." She exhaled. "It started—"

"Wait." I held out my hand to cut her off and she stopped, her mouth hanging open. "Are you telling just me? Or do you plan on telling everyone?"

She lifted her arms and let them fall. "Well, it won't do anyone any good if I don't tell everyone." She rolled her eyes and looked at me like, "Duh."

"I really want to know first, Tina. I just meant I should wait. The less you have to repeat it, the better." Could she say whatever happened twice? Really? I doubted she could get through it once without breaking. "Let's make this as easy as we can."

"Even in front of your dad? I don't think I can tell your dad, Aly."

"Not if that makes you uncomfortable," I said and grinned. My dad was a teddy bear at heart, but Tina had always been intimidated by my father's size and the fact that, even when he was happy, he looked pissed about something. The thought of telling him to beat it, though? Fun.

"He hates that we're friends, doesn't he?" She looked around my room before settling back on me. "He thinks that I'm a terrible influence now. Can you tell him that you won't go slutting around just because we're friends? Please?"

"No, he doesn't and shut up. You aren't a slut." I laughed. I couldn't help it. "He's pissed off, yeah, but that's totally at Mr. Tinsley and the school for letting this—whatever this is—happen to you. Seriously, Tina, he was pissed about the movies and nearly broke the kitchen table over that. When he found out Mr. Tinsley might have hurt you? Let's just say that I got kicked out of the room. My mom said it was so that they could talk"—I made quotation marks in the air—" but I'm pretty sure it was so he didn't go out and kill Mr. Tinsley."

"Really?" Her face lit up. It was faint and didn't come anywhere near her eyes, but it was a smile.

"Really." I nodded slowly, widening my eyes as I bent at the waist to lean in towards Tina. "My dad hates Mr. Tinsley. If he had a kill list, Mr. T would be toast." I blew air out of my mouth, puffing my cheeks and spreading my hands like an explosion, all the while rolling my eyes.

Tina laughed. Again, it wasn't from-your-gut-chortling, but it was a giggle—she didn't even force it. "Okay."

She nodded and looked at the door as though it was going to come off its hinges and bite her. I knew what the right thing was, and that's what I wanted. Not just for her, but for all the other girls Mr. Tinsley might have or could take advantage of. Men like him—the predators of the world—only needed to be given an opportunity, and then they pounced.

"I guess I better get this over with." She looked at the door and sighed. Turning back around, she asked. "They're all downstairs? Waiting?"

"I'll stay beside you," I promised and pulled her in for a hug, squeezing as tight as I could. I didn't know who I was trying to reassure more, but it seemed to help us both. At least, it helped me.

I hoped it helped her.

THIRTEEN

When we went downstairs everyone was waiting: my parents; Tina's mom; Mrs. Haun, the principle of Royal Academy; Mr. Douglas, the vice principal of Royal Academy and one-man security team; some lawyer-type lady whose name I forgot as soon as it was mentioned; and Ms. Jessome, a lady from the School Board who's position I didn't pay any notice of during introductions. They were all pencil pushers in my mind, and damned for their lack of action, even though they hadn't known. They should have realized something was happening.

I hurried my dad and Mr. Douglas out of the room. With everything Tina went through, the last thing she needed was to have grown men listening to her talk about Mr. Tinsley. Plus, no way was my dad going to remain silent and calm, so there was that. Tina would have no doubt about how protective he was of her, and how much he didn't blame her if he stayed. But I gave her my word, so he wasn't going to be there.

Once Tina began talking, everyone, if my own interruptions didn't count, listened in silence as she recounted what had happened with Mr. Tinsley.

"A couple of months?" I exclaimed. The creepiness that crawled over my skin at the thought of them together skyrocketed out of the stratosphere. I am such a terrible friend. Who wouldn't notice something like this happening to their best friend for so long? It was shameful—I was shameful. "This happened for a couple of months? When did it start?"

"About six weeks after school started."

Tina looked away to stare at a spot on the far wall of our living room. Whether it was out of embarrassment or the fear of judgment, I wasn't sure. I had never felt such hatred towards someone before. Castration was too kind for Mr. Tinsley, and all the men and women like him. Someone needed to fry his goodies while he watched before serving them to him as his own last supper.

How did she survive without being a wrecking ball?

"Tina, it's May." I counted in my head how long we'd skipped Health. Two weeks. We've only skipped two weeks of class. "That means he was doing this for six, almost seven, months. That's a helluva lot longer than a couple of months."

Her eyes darted to me and then back to the wall, and she sighed. "I know, Aly. What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm just so mad at him for what he's done to you." I sat down and then stood again to pace, biting my nails to keep my mouth in check. I couldn't imagine how hard this must be for her, and I felt dirty listening to what had happened.

"Anyway, it started about six weeks after summer. I was sick one day and went to see Mr. Tinsley after school about making up a test I missed. When I got there, he was watching that, uh..." She cleared her throat. "He was watching the movie he showed in class—one of them, anyway—though he hadn't shown them to everyone yet.

"When he noticed I was there he pressed pause on a part that showed some chick going down on a guy. I told him that I'd come back later when he wasn't so busy, but he wouldn't let me." She shook her head and looked to the floor, clasping and unclasping her fingers while twirling her thumbs together. "He said that if I didn't stay, I would get a failing grade."

"Bastard," I mumbled and looked up with wide eyes to whisper, "Sorry."

I needed to stop interrupting her. The problem with that was that I couldn't close my eyes without seeing the image of him forcing himself on her—or her on him, as the case seemed to be most of the time. It made me feel like last night's supper was going to pay us a visit, and a part of me wished I didn't figure it out so that I didn't have to listen to her describe the details.

No amount of encounters with the voice would be able to wash this from my memory.

"So, yeah, he said he wanted me to do what was on the frame he'd paused the movie on. I didn't want to, but he s-said he'd... have me expelled for coming onto him," she choked and began to cry, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "The whole time... I just wanted someone to come into the classroom and catch us, but it was too late. Even the janitor had left by then, and Mr. Tinsley always locked the door."

"Doesn't the janitor have keys? If he was there, he could have caught him," I wondered aloud. "That's ballsy."

Tina shook her head, swallowing hard. "No, Mr. Tinsley switched the lock," she told me. "He's the only one with the key."

My mother looked to the ladies from the school and asked, "Can he do that? Wouldn't the janitor notice?"

"Not if the door was left unlocked during the time he cleaned," Mrs. Haun said. She hadn't said anything aside from her name when they arrived, but talk about incompetent—she didn't even know when a lock on a classroom was changed? What kind of principle was she?

Ms. Jessome cleared her throat and glared at Mrs. Haun, shifting to re-cross her legs at the ankles. They both looked impeccable and had been taking notes while Tina talked. Ms. Jessome glanced at her recorder, the reason for the Privacy Consent Forms Tina and her mom had to sign and pursed her lips. This was so far beyond Mr. Douglas's prevue, and the recording should be spoon-fed to the cops. I hoped Mr. Tinsley burned.

Maybe I could ask the voice for help with that?

"How many times did these meetings happen?" she asked and raised her eyebrows towards Tina while holding her pen in the air above her notepad. "In total, please."

"I don't know." Tina wiped the tears from her cheek and cleared her throat. "Once a week, maybe? I'm not sure. I got good at zoning out while it lasted, and then when it wasn't, I just tried to pretend it hadn't happened at all."

"How did I not know this?" I demanded to nobody in particular. "That's like, double digits!"

"Aly," my mother warned. She looked sick. Disgusted with Mr. Tinsley and the school because it had happened, and, I assumed, repulsed with herself for being relieved that it hadn't happened to her daughter. Her voice shook with emotion. "Let her finish."

"It is okay, Ellen. I hid it, obviously." Tina clasped her hands together and looked to me. "I told you that I was tutoring so that you wouldn't know about it."

"But Teigan said that you helped him get a passing grade in history," I remembered out loud. This was so confusing, like a puzzle I couldn't piece together. It felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the gut and I couldn't breathe. "You said you were tutoring three or four times a week!"

"I usually was tutoring."

"Okay, Tina," Ms. Jessome said, nodding. "Is that all that happened during these meetings or—"

"Is that all?" A firecracker with a hidden fuse, Mrs. Amorfati jumped up from her seat to glare at Ms. Jessome. She was so pissed off I thought she was going to knock the lady unconscious. "Is that all? Don't you think my daughter has suffered enough without you people making her feel as though it is insignificant? Is that all?" She shook her head, waving her finger in the air just in front of Ms. Jessome's face. "Lady, you have a lot of nerve saying that to my daughter."

"What I meant was if he made her do anything else or if their meetings consisted of the same, uh... actions," Ms. Jessome clarified, nonplussed, and turned to face Tina. "I wasn't minimizing the ordeal you've been subjected to, Tina. Nobody could do that."

"Mom," Tina said. She looked up to her mom with wide, pleading eyes, and Mrs. Amorfati sighed. "It's okay. She has to ask, right?" Tina looked at Ms. Jessome and then turned back to staring at the wall. "That wasn't all. He touched me."

Mrs. Amorfati straightened her clothes and sat back down, shifting in her seat with unexpressed fury.

"Okay." Ms. Jessome nodded and made another notation. "Did he ever try to... Did he ever force you to, uh...? I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "Did you ever have sexual intercourse with him?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm sorry?" Ms. Jessome's pen halted and she looked up from her notepad with a frown. Everyone looked at Tina with confusion.

"I don't know," Tina repeated. "I know what sex is and we didn't do that, but there's like, all kinds of definitions of what sex really is, isn't there? So, no, we didn't do it the way textbooks tell us sex happens." She cleared her throat, obviously wanting to leave the rest unsaid, and I didn't want to imagine what else could have happened. "He said something about my hymen remaining intact that way."

"What?" Mrs. Amorfati exclaimed and jumped back to her feet.

She was usually so prim, I felt like I didn't know the woman standing in our living room blowing more smoke out of her steaming head than our chimney at Christmas. She was wearing an uncharacteristic pair of jeans and hoody with sneakers I didn't know existed in her closet. Her laid-back, I'm-the-coolest-mom-in-the-world attitude had been shredded and a lioness had emerged to protect her baby cub.

"I'm going to sue this school for her distress!" She whirled on Mrs. Haun, her long light brown hair flying behind her as she turned. "How could you allow this to go on? How did it happen so often without anyone knowing?"

"It was the last time we met, Mom," Tina explained.

Tina's tears dried, and her expression turned to stone, all emotion gone. The spark that made her Tina departed and I could no longer see my fun-loving friend. Changes could be so cruel, even if they were in theory, for the best. I felt like crying for the girl—the friend—who had been lost because of Mr. Tinsley. So much hurt, all to fill his sick, fantastical desires of perversion.

"That's not the point, Tina," her mother said as she continued to glare at Mrs. Haun. "This should never have happened. Not once. Not to you or to anyone else, which I'm positive is exactly what has happened. He's too carefree. Arrogant bastard."

"The next day he brought the movie to class and Alyssa and I started skipping, Mom." Tina shrugged.

The light-hearted gesture didn't help calm her mother, who now looked like she was plotting the man's demise in as many excruciating ways as she could invent in her head. I was sure she'd go home and list them all out, waiting to choose the perfect revenge. Heck, if I wasn't worried about damning my soul even further than what the voice already eluded to, I would offer to help.

"I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen," Tina whispered, pulling my attention back to her.

"Then I forced you to go back to class." I winced, feeling like a bitch. I sat down on the ottoman in front of the chair my mother was sitting in and allowed my chin to rest on my chest. How did I not know? "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know."

But I should have figured it out.

"What are you people going to do now?" Mrs. Amorfati demanded, standing again. She placed her hands on her hips and stuck her right foot out in front of her. An unnatural light sparked within her eyes, and I felt sorry for whoever she decided had been responsible for her daughter's ordeal. That is, other than Mr. Tinsley, who really shouldn't want to meet her.

"Mr. Tinsley will be suspended, without pay, of course," Mrs. Haun said and avoided eye contact by watching the floor. "Protocol demands an investigation before termination."

"That's not good enough," Mrs. Amorfati said in a calm voice. She picked up her cell phone and dialed out as though nobody else was in the room with her.

"Who are you calling?" My mom eyed her friend with suspicion.

Tina's mom covered the mouthpiece and said, "This call is to the police. Not only did he abuse his position of authority with my daughter, but Tina is a minor. Frankly, I'm surprised the police aren't here now."

Again, she eyed Mrs. Haun critically before turning back to my mother, speaking to her as though it was a normal, everyday conversation between friends. "My next call will be to our family doctor and then our lawyer." She paused and looked up to the ceiling, pushing her finger through the air as though entering numbers on an invisible calculator as she spoke. "Actually, the lawyer should probably be the first call since he should be there when I take Tina to the doctor. I'm sure it would be good to use whatever report the doctor provides for a legal pursuit against the school, though I don't know how they'll compensate for her physical and emotional distress." Her gaze zeroed back on each lady from the school, resting on the lawyer-type as if daring her to speak up.

Thankfully, she remained silent, though the tension had escalated significantly.

"Is it okay if we go to my room?" I asked, forcing my gaze back to my friend.

Tina looked like she was about to succumb to exhaustion and everyone else seemed to have wrapped up the conversation. Unless she was asked a direct question, I was certain Tina wasn't about to offer any more details. She'd turned her feelings off, probably the only way she had found to get through the retelling of what happened.

"Of course," my mom said as Mrs. Amorfati nodded, still holding on the phone for an officer. "I'm just going to get your father." She turned to Ms. Jessome, completely ignoring Mrs. Haun, her voice like ice. "Ms. Jessome, I'd like to play that recording for my husband and Mr. Douglas now that Tina has finished."

I pushed Tina down the hallway to my bedroom and closed the door behind us to cut out their chatter. Tina didn't say anything, and I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Are you okay? Of course, she isn't okay. Words would do nothing to ease what she was going through. I hadn't thought there was a pain worse than what I felt the day I died. I looked at Tina sprawled on my bed and my heart sank.

I was wrong.

There was survival.

FOURTEEN

The Brothers

The Mortal Realm

My third day in this wretched place felt just as the first two: long and insufferable, and utterly pointless. The girl hadn't been present past the first day and now, I felt like little more than a babysitter for my so-called peers. Their lazy, misinformed teachers, who instilled their ignorance into their pupils and called it an education, annoyed me. There was no reason for my presence. As I gathered my fake books containing what should've been material to learn from in my arms, I could feel the weight of my neglected duties. I made my way out the main doors of the school and towards freedom.

The time I'd been spending with mortals was affecting me. More than once I had wanted to discard my disguise, tap into my natural abilities, and speed up time. No one would notice, but I would find the forced experience I was enduring whilst my charge wasn't even present that much more bearable if I only had to be present when she was. Instead of drawing attention, though, I was fleeing the confines of high school like an earthly creature would flee when forced to face a demon.

The sun was shining down in a way that I couldn't experience in my truest form. Warm. Bright, though I'd seen brighter. The brightness I was used to didn't inspire warmth; the light I felt in my truest form cooled the warmth that radiated within me. It was a subtle difference, but it wasn't lost on me that I noticed it. As my innate power became subdued in this mortal form, the senses of a human became more prominent. The tight grip I had held onto for so long on my emotions lessened, and with it, the prejudice towards humans each of my kind believed felt like it was beginning to diminish.

"Where are you going, Brother?"

Pausing mid-stride, I cringed at the familiar tone. We all had names but as His sons, and compared to His Glory, names were insignificant. 'Brother' allowed for equality, our roles and authority given equal measure whenever our duties were inactive. Our worth was measured by our duties and our order— oldest to youngest —determined our value. I was the second eldest, the second most 'worthy' of us, the Seven Brothers.

The First looked up to meet my gaze. We were all present, the others forming a straight line at the bottom of the steps and blocking my exit, not that that would really stop me. I lost myself to the natural state of invisibility knowing that was how they'd revealed themselves. Eventually, I would be back in classes and it wouldn't do me any favors to be known as the crazy talking to himself.

I dropped the image of the boy once I became invisible to humans. I wanted to be equal amongst the Brothers, not viewed as the rest of the human race: a lesser being. "I'm leaving. The girl isn't here, and I have duties to fulfill."

The First stepped forward out of line as the others remained silent, fading into the background in respect for their elders. "You need to remain here. It is important that you see what happens, understand the changes that occur."

"What changes?"

"The changes that must be made for her to live. She has realized this and, though her heart is pure, the change she's instigated is not for the better."

"Again, what changes?" I asked all the Brothers. He may be my elder, but as the Second, I was older than the rest of the others. None were foolish enough to get in between us, though, and my question was met with silence.

"Go back to class, Brother, and you will see." He stepped into my line of vision so that I couldn't intimidate the others.

I willed my school books out of my hands and crossed my arms, my gaze narrowing. "Or you could just tell me," I said, my voice low and impatient, but silence reigned in response. "What games do you play, Brother?"

"There are no games." He nodded at the doors behind me. "Go to class. You must experience these changes to understand them."

"You mean understand her," I corrected, realizing what he failed to say. "You want me to see all that happens so that I can understand her. It isn't enough that I can help her find her true calling when none of you can, is it? You want me to know what it is because the Sisters haven't told you."

"The Sisters haven't even told Him."

"If I stay, that doesn't guarantee I will learn her true calling, not if the Sisters don't want me to figure out what that may be." I willed myself to shift back into the boy's form, not yet visible to the human eye even though we never left their realm. "You know this already."

"Yes." He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded without guilt.

"So then ask Him. He will know once she does. Even the Sisters can't hide that from Him." I tilted my head. "And since I know that, I know you understand, so what are you doing here?"

"When you're meant to die, you can't escape it by avoiding the events leading up to your death," he said in a whisper and looked to the ground where our feet were positioned side-by-side. It was a contrast of golden sandals with crisscrossing straps and stark white sneakers that looked as though they'd just been taken out of their box. "Death will come, and balance will be kept, though the death needn't be hers."

"I know this." I sighed. "You want me to help her realize her death can be exchanged for another? She's too pure. It won't work."

"She cannot return endlessly—even the powers have their limits—and He will not intervene. The Sisters said—"

"What? You talked to the Sisters?" Direct interrogation worked best with our kind. Just as we couldn't die, we could not lie, though omitting—manipulating our answers—information was an expertise that was easy to master. "What did they say?"

"The Sisters advised that this girl must live. She's special, important, and her life was taken in error. We have to fix this in a way that does not hurt another human in her place."

"And if we can't?"

"I don't know," he said. I looked down at the others just as they faded from view, their white robes fluttering. "I don't want to know."

"Why did they leave?"

"Duties. I need to go as well—double duties for me while you are here." He began to fade away. "Take it all in, Brother. Everything that you see might mean something."

"Just don't take too many time-outs, okay? I feel pulled to my duties, which means that they are neglecting to be fulfilled." My words fell on deaf ears. He was already gone.

I turned my back to where he had stood and walked towards the doors, manifesting my books but not my visibility. Not yet. The longer I spent with humans—pretending to be one of them—the more unlike myself I would become. In a few weeks, I could lose my gift for invisibility until the time came for me to shed my disguise. I wanted to be myself as long as possible in the off-chance that the effects may be reversed.

The doors flew open before my hand gripped the handle. Mr. Tinsley, flanked on either side by a police officer, was being escorted out of the building without the aid of cuffs—a nicety for the students, I supposed. I could sense the sin in him. My body naturally recoiled from the darkness in the air as he passed. Without a doubt, the words of innocence that he spoke were lies.

I darted through the doors unseen before they shut and watched with the luxury of not being seen as he was lowered into the back of an unmarked car. The students that had been in his class gathered to watch. The boys were sarcastic and most of the girls wordless, though some were upset and crying. Only one girl voiced her anger so that she was loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Why is he being taken?" she demanded to no one in particular. She wore a black and gold cheerleader's uniform and was at the center of a crowd of others similarly dressed, all of them swallowed by the boys in letterman jackets.

I observed her as she jerked her blonde hair out of its ponytail, imploring her friends and teachers to answer her. Her anger wasn't true, dramatized to mask her fear and confusion. Humans had a saying I was marginally familiar with: those who protest too much... I couldn't remember the rest, but it was obvious that the girl I had come for wasn't the only girl in need of help. I opened my senses, disgusted to discover the nature of the teacher's indiscretions, saddened with the knowledge of how many girls had been tainted by his predilections. Fury like I'd never known—my first human emotion—roared through me at a notion that rolled my stomach.

While this girl hadn't been touched, she hadn't escaped knowing the pain Mr. Tinsley caused. As I passed through the crowd still invisible, I thought of how happy I felt in my home and then forced that serenity out over the crowd so that the students could feel a fraction of peace.

FIFTEEN

Alyssa

We didn't go back to school until Thursday. Tina and I were both excused on Wednesday so that we wouldn't have to be there when Mr. Tinsley was asked to leave. At least until the findings of the investigation had been determined. If I didn't feel as though I could handle it after sticking by her side since she'd barged into my room the morning before, I was sure Tina couldn't. She was still reeling from having to re-read and initial each page of the statement Mrs. Jessome had written from the recorded statement before signing it at the bottom. Then she'd had to go and see the doctor, the lawyer, and then, with the lawyer present, the police. Not being at school might have made our involvement more obvious, but the gossip would be easier to digest if we didn't have to see him.

"Just don't look at anyone, Tina," I whispered out of the corner of my mouth. She looked ready to break, timid. "If you aren't comfortable with this, we can go. You don't have to stay."

"No. I have to face it."

Despite the shaking in her voice, she was resolute. I had never admired her as much as I did right now. Her strength. Facing what she feared despite how scared she was. It was amazing. I doubted I could've done it.

I rubbed the spot on her back just between her shoulder blades in slow, soothing circles and said, "Okay, well, I'll talk with you between classes then."

"I don't need a babysitter, Aly." She sighed and raised her face to the cloudy sky where the sun had failed to appear, casting shadows into every corner until it all seemed threatening. "We don't even know how much everyone knows. They might not realize it has anything to do with me."

I looked around and saw that while we were given passing glances of acknowledgment, nobody was staring. There wasn't a gleam of curiosity or accusation to be seen. Maybe she was right. There was no way of knowing unless we asked someone, or it was mentioned. Since I wasn't about to ask, and I knew Tina wasn't going to inquire, we'd just have to wait and see how the day unfolded.

"Tina, we have classes together, remember? You can't avoid talking with me." I smiled but she remained stoic. I sighed. "Fine. Do you want me to pretend we don't know each other and just meet you for lunch? We can go somewhere and get away." It was only for two hours.

"Okay." She nodded. "Lunch. I can totally do that." She smiled and pulled her bag up higher on her shoulder. "Don't worry about me, Aly." She nudged me with her hip and nodded again.

"Ha! That's funny." I pulled her into a one-armed hug and squeezed.

D-Day was just one day away. I didn't know what was going to happen at the deadline, but I wanted Tina to feel safe. If I died again, I didn't want her to be alone. She was so close to breaking, I feared that if I died, she'd be shattered, though I was hoping that I had spent the week focused on what had needed to change in order for my fate to change. Killing yourself is selfish. Helping Tina this week was the least selfish thing I had done throughout my entire life. Knowing what had happened—hearing the details—had left me nearly as scarred as she must have been after going through it.

I watched her walk away and sighed. What I'd done was for the good of everyone. Tina knew that. I knew that. So then why did I feel so terrible about it? Because you made the pain she worked hard to forget the most important aspect of her life for all to see. She can't pretend anymore.

I soothed my guilt with the knowledge that Mr. Tinsley couldn't hurt anyone.

Two hours passed as slow as two years. Aside from the crap with Mr. Tinsley and worrying about Tina, it was hard to pay attention in class, doing nothing when I knew I might die. In the realm of possibilities, the probability of my death was high.

By spending so much time with Tina and concentrating on changing things so Mr. Tinsley couldn't harm others, I was left with little time for myself. I still held the belief that the way to change my death lay in avoidance. If I wasn't there for the taking, I'd never be tortured. I wouldn't cut my wrist—who was stupid enough to cut their wrists by accident twice? —and I wouldn't die.

I walked towards the cafeteria at lunch to meet Tina with an extra bounce to my step. A plan had been hatched, if I could call lack of action a strategy, to keep me from dying. I hoped. I had no idea what the rules of my return were. Guessing was the best I could do. If I was meant to die, and nothing could change that, I would make Death work extra hard to catch me.

"Stop it!"

My stomach dropped to the floor as Tina's voice tore through my solitary thoughts like a megaphone held to my ear.

"How could you say things like that?" A grunt filled the air and my heartbeat sped up. I knew that sound....

Rounding the corner, I dropped my bag. Suzie, my ex-bestie, stood over Tina, her face contorted with rage. "The police escorted him out yesterday, you know. Because of you!"

"Hey!" I pushed Suzie away just before she kicked Tina in the stomach while she lay curled into a ball on the cold linoleum, crying. I knew firsthand how much pain she was in, physically. Not mentally. Nobody would ever understand or sympathize with that kind of pain—they couldn't. "Don't touch her."

"Get out of here," Suzie snarled.

I hadn't spoken to her since she'd become a cheerleader unless she was making a point to prove her popularity by bullying us. The blonde leader was so consumed with maintaining her status, she didn't care who she hurt to keep it. This wasn't about her status, though. I didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't it. Not this time.

I bent to help Tina to her feet and glared at Suzie and her entourage of followers. More students stopped to stare as they wandered in and out of the cafeteria until the hallway was full of gaping spectators quietly hanging on every word like it was a freaking revelation of the measure of life. "What do you think you are doing, Suzie? You can't just go around tormenting people."

"Mr. Tinsley is gone because of her. She opened her big mouth and now he's gone!" Suzie pointed her finger in Tina's face and took a step forward as I moved in front of Tina. "Get out of my way and stop being such a loser, Aly, not that you can help it." She glanced back at her friends and smiled as they laughed on her cue.

"Tina didn't say anything about Mr. Tinsley." At least it wasn't a lie. Oh, what the hell. Might as well take it all the way. "I did, and I'm glad he's gone because everything I said is true."

"Why would you say anything at all?"

"Because what he did was wrong!" My hands balled into fists at my side. "You don't even know what happened."

"So what? You had no right—"

"I had every right," I growled in a low voice and stepped forward. If I wasn't so mad and disgusted with her, I would relish the fact that she stepped back from me. Scared, like an ant beneath my shoes. "Go away, Suzie. Find out what happened before throwing your accusations around and maybe I'll forgive you for your stupidity. God, what happened to you? You used to be better than... this, whoever you are now. It's not a good look."

I turned my back to her and pushed Tina lightly by her shoulders in the opposite direction. She didn't resist and didn't speak, not even when I guided her through the rain that fell on the way to my car, strapped her into the passenger seat, and drove us to my house.

My mom would be at home. She'd know what to do.

But she wasn't there when we arrived ten minutes later. Nobody was. I parked in the driveway in her spot, not caring if she was annoyed or mad. Tina still hadn't spoken, and my only concern was getting her inside. It's the reason that kept me from turning around and going back to school to blast Suzie with my fist instead of words. If I could just get Tina inside, warm the chill of rain out of her, she would be alright. She was a survivor.

"Let's go to my room," I said as we walked in through the garage. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and guided her through the kitchen and up to the staircase, into my room. Stopping at the side of my bed, I turned her and pushed down so that she would sit. There was no resistance, even when I placed my comforter over her and pulled my desk chair so that we sat facing each other, a meter apart.

Tina watched the floor, silent. She didn't blink. She didn't move. She didn't even look as though she was breathing. I didn't know what else to do. Watching her couldn't be helping, but what else was there? There was no guessing how she was feeling. The pain Suzie had caused probably ached, but Tina looked like she was so far from feeling she might as well have been asleep. Even then there would be more emotion.

Now that she was out of Suzie's grasp, I couldn't let her clam up.

"Are you hungry?"

She shook her head.

"Thirsty?"

Her eyes rose, the movement of her head unhurried, and she met my gaze. She blinked, pulling the comforter closer with clenched fists as though just realizing it was there. It was something, at least, but she still looked blank. Her eyes appeared vacant and lifeless.

"What happened?" I asked, giving in to my curiosity.

"Suzie went nuts."

Hearing her speak took me by surprise. I swallowed. "Do you know why she cares so much about Mr. Tinsley?"

Tina laughed, the sound hollow. "It was just an excuse, wasn't it? She's always a bitch. I was there, she was cranky. That's the way it works."

It seemed like more. Yes, Suzie was acting like a bitch. That wasn't weird. But this was out of character, even for her. She loved to mock from afar, but when it came time to get dirt under her nails, Suzie ran from confrontation. I couldn't believe that Suzie attacked Tina as an excuse. There was something connecting her to what happened with Mr. Tinsley.

"There has to be something else," I said, wondering aloud. "Do you think Mr. Tinsley hurt her?" I stopped myself before reminding her of her own encounter with the man. "Or maybe one of her friends?"

That made even less sense than if he hurt her. Having experienced what it felt like to find out my best friend was subjected to his perversion, I couldn't imagine Suzie acting any other way. She would be cheering his absence, not lashing out. Suzie had changed a lot since we'd been friends, but the girl I had known would never put up with someone hurting her friends.

"I—no." Tina shook her head and averted her gaze. "Suzie and her friends weren't hurt."

"How can you be sure?"

She shrugged.

"Men like him are perverted, Tina. They aren't satisfied with having one girl. We were gone from his class for two weeks. He must have found someone else to—"

"He didn't." Her voice took on an edge and she met my gaze. "I was, uh, watching him."

SIXTEEN

"What?" Was she crazy? "What does that even mean? Were you like, spying on him? I thought you wanted to forget about Mr. Tinsley when he wasn't around?"

"I did. I do," she said, and then sighed. Color rose to her cheeks and the vulnerability disappeared. A mischievous light lit her eyes. "I was keeping an eye on him to make sure nobody else was involved. I found out about some other girls he'd, uh... liked. But something stopped him from continuing to pursue them. I'm not delusional enough to think it was because of me, but it got me thinking."

I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes. "Thinking about what?"

"Well, Royal Academy isn't the only place he taught. It's too picky to hire fresh-out-of-college teachers. They have to prove they deserve the position, right?"

"I don't know. Probably?" I shook my head. With what tuition cost, she had a point, though I couldn't see what it was. "I'm confused. How is that even relevant? He's a creep."

"And apparently, he always has been."

"What?"

She smiled. "This isn't the first position Mr. Tinsley has had where a girl has accused him of being less than respectable," she said, "but you won't find anything about it searching under his name."

"So, you're saying...?" I needed her to spell it out for me. What she implied wasn't something one could accept without clarification.

"Mr. Tinsley is also Mr. Paulson."

I blinked. "He faked his identity? How is that even possible?"

She shrugged, but the smile remained firm. "After one of the visits with him in his classroom, he left me alone for a few minutes so he could wash his hands. I wanted to find a way out of seeing him, so I went through his bag."

"If he went through the trouble to change his identity, why would he leave evidence somewhere so easy to find?"

"There's a secret pocket," she said. The blanket dropped from her shoulders and she scooted back until her back hit the wall, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around to clasp over her shins. "Mr. Paulson isn't his only alias. He's also Mr. Lee and Mr. Zooksky."

Mr. Tinsley, Mr. Paulson, Mr. Lee, and Mr. Zooksky. My head was spinning.

"He used the identity of teachers who have already died. Don't ask me how, but every person he stole his identity from had impeccable teaching records and credit ratings. Their only fault was that they died young."

"So when the school looked up his experience?"

"They found a glowing resume."

I leaned back in my chair, twisting my fingers together in my lap. Mr. Tinsley took creepy to a whole new realm. Looking from my hands back to Tina, I asked, "So is he even qualified to teach?"

"I have no clue. I looked into each name, but none were what he was born with," she said. "That's why I didn't say anything. I had no proof."

"You could have taken the ID, shown it to the school or police."

"And the moment he realized they were missing, he would run and start using a new one that couldn't be traced."

She should have taken the chance. Even if he ran, outing his deception would have meant an end to what he was doing to her. Why wouldn't she try everything she knew to escape his abuse? It seemed incomprehensible, but then I wasn't her. She seemed so sure she was right, that she had thought there would be another way or that it was useless to try. There was only a year left until graduation. Maybe she figured she could endure it until high school was over.

"Aly?" My mother's voice floated up from the kitchen. "Why are you parked in my spot? Can you please move your car? I have groceries in the trunk."

I looked back to Tina. Her gaze was focused back on the floor. So many questions ran through my head, but I knew my mother's presence had shut the gate of information I'd finally breached. On the upside, Tina no longer looked broken. Was it an act? Or was the thought of possible revenge restorative? There were some things I wished I never learned.

*****

"We'll be in and out before you know it, okay?" I had to talk Tina into coming to get our homework. We'd spent the entire night talking about everything but Mr. Tinsley or what happened. I didn't know if it had made anything better. I thought talking was supposed to help, but once she'd crashed, I'd been kept up as she tossed in her sleep, whimpering at danger I wasn't privy to.

I feared the dreams wouldn't be so quick to fade for her.

"I'm not worried," she lied. "They think it's you, right?"

"I'm good with that." I nodded. "Let's just grab our stuff and get the hell out of here before class ends." I needed to be gone by then.

It was D-day. Friday had arrived too soon. I had been so engrossed in Tina's problems that I had done nothing about my own. In less than an hour, I had been taken and tortured until I died. But, if we hurried, I could still avoid it.

Every second felt like an hour but finally, ten minutes later, we were headed back to my car at the edge of the student parking lot. I'd avoided the back entrance where I'd been taken and was nowhere near the edge of the field by the tree I'd been tied to. I hadn't written in my journal all week except to document how much I loved the people in my life, and I hadn't brought it with me. Just to be safe.

All I had to do was make it past my time of death alive. Since I didn't know what time that was, I decided to try making it past the time I had been grabbed and hoped it would be enough. It would have been better to have someone drop our homework off and not come here at all, but I hadn't thought of the option until we arrived.

"You girls can't stop cutting class, can you?"

Tina gasped. My body jerked in surprise and I pushed her behind me, all in the same motion as though each movement had been scripted, tailored specifically for us at this moment. My eyes darted around the parking lot in search of the voice, terrified of the man who owned it. After what felt like an eternity later, Mr. Tinsley stepped out from behind a student's suped-up truck and glared at us with more hatred than I could ever hope to understand.

"You can't be here." I swallowed and looked around. Nobody is here.

"No, I shouldn't be here. You're right." He nodded. His eyes were wild, and his hand shook as he pulled it through his hair to reveal the sweat on his brow. "But you didn't really expect me to let you ruin my life without a confrontation, did you?" He tilted his head and leered.

"Why aren't you in jail?" I tried to keep eye contact so he wouldn't seek Tina out behind me, his roving gaze as intrusive as his actions had been. It was a reminder of what he was capable of.

He shrugged and leaned forward with the slightest of movements. It wasn't much, but enough to send my spider sense into overdrive. "Posted bail."

I pulled my phone from my pocket without averting my gaze. "When the police find you here, you won't be able to do that again. Leave us alone. Go. You can leave before they find you."

I looked over my shoulder, hoping to see people behind us, but it was still too early. Even in the open, we were as secluded as I had been the day I'd died. My desire to hurry had left us separated from assistance and the only help we'd receive now was our own. I held his gaze again and fingered the number pad of my phone.

"Put your phone away, Alyssa," he warned and pulled his hand from the inside pocket of his blazer. I pressed the talk button and raised my hands into the air as he leveled his gun at us. Correction: he pointed his gun at me. Tina was hidden safely away behind my body.

"Whoa." I moved my hands from above my head in a defensive gesture so that they were in front of me.

Like my hands could stop a bullet from penetrating my body. He'd gone mental. Hoping my call had been answered, I tried to verbalize as much about the situation as possible.

"Mr. Tinsley, you don't need a gun. Really. Let's just talk, okay?"

"Move away from Tina, Alyssa. I want to talk to Tina."

The hand that held the gun waved through the air as he talked. I held my breath, and even though it wasn't possible without becoming vulnerable, wanted to close my eyes to shut the scene from sight. He was having some sort of manic episode. No sane person was this irrational.

"No."

"Get out of my way, Alyssa," he repeated.

"No."

"Step away!"

"So you can hurt her? No way. That's not going to happen, Mr. Tinsley." I would rather die first.

Tina stepped to the side and away from my protection as I tried to deny him, refusing to allow me to use my body to shield her from further pain. He refocused his gun and snarled as she made herself visible, acting every bit as creepy as he'd always looked.

I thought Josh was cracked.

"Miss Amorfati, lovely as always." My skin tingled as he spoke, anger burning through me. I was outraged as much that he was forcing her to see him—to hear him speak—as when I'd first learned what he had done to her. For months. Without remorse.

"Don't talk to her."

He continued devouring Tina with his eyes as though I didn't exist. I tried to block her from sight with my body again and she stepped away once more. I wanted to scream at her but targeted him instead. "Leave her alone!"

"I have nothing to say to you." Tina raised her chin until she was looking down her nose to see him. Her backbone, which had been so soft and pliable throughout the week, was like clay hardening in the sun.

"You ruined my life!"

"No, I didn't. You did." She pointed her finger at him in fury, no longer the meek girl I'd had to buckle into my car the day before. It was as if the sight of him had finally lit her fuse. She realized her superiority. This was my best friend, come to life again. "You did this. You forced me. I didn't want you, but you made me. You didn't care about what happened to me. Why should I care what happens to you?"

"Tina, let's go, okay? Royal Academy's bell will ring right away, and the student parking lot will be full." I took a deep breath and hoped he wouldn't realize what I was trying to do. "My mom's expecting us, remember?"

"Shut up, Alyssa," he warned and turned to look at me again. Seeing him this way, knowing what he'd done, made him the ugliest person I'd ever met. "You aren't leaving until she recants her story."

Oh. God. He'd truly lost his freaking marbles. I shook my head, trying to understand his logic. It wasn't possible. "Well, then, Mr. Tinsley, I hope you brought your sleeping bag because that's never going to happen."

"What?" Tina sputtered with a delayed reaction, taking a step backward.

"It's simple. Just tell everyone you lied to gain attention." He shrugged and waved the gun again through the air. "I never touched you and nothing happened."

"But it did," she corrected. "It did happen. You did it. Everything you are feeling now, everything that has happened to you, is all because of you. If I don't tell you'll be free to do it to someone else. I have a little sister, you know. I can't lie for you. You can shoot me if you want, but that'll just prove how guilty you really are. If I die to send you to prison, then I'll die happy knowing you won't be free to hurt anyone else ever again."

"You'd still be in trouble," I pointed out, trying to keep him distracted so that he wouldn't take Tina up on her suggestion. "Even if she recants the story, you'd still be in trouble. Killing us will only make it worse. They found the movies you played in class."

"That'll get me suspended." He whirled back to me, and I almost gagged when I watched the sweat fling off him with the movement. It wasn't even hot out, the sun never had peeked out of the clouds from the day before, shielded from seeing the nightmare we were enacting. "I'll get a slap on the wrist and then I'll come back."

"You're crazy." Tina laughed. "I won't help you. I won't lie for you. What you did to me..." She shook her head in disbelief, her black curls haloing her head with the movement. "What you made me do will cause me years of therapy. You deserve to have your life ruined because you've shattered mine. You will go to jail or be put on probation or something, but that will end. Your punishment will be limited by time. No matter how long you suffer, it will never be enough. When it's over for you, I'll still be dealing with it."

"You did this to—" His voice cut off and he cocked his head to the side.

I heard the sirens and then saw the faint outline of the squad cars with flashing lights, and I smiled. When they caught him here with his gun aimed at us, he'd never be free to bother us again. No matter the trauma this delivered, it was worth eradicating his presence in a way that he could never overcome.

"I hope you get everything you deserve, Mr. Tinsley."

My body turned to ice. Oh, how I wished Tina hadn't said that. You don't aggravate the crazy until after the gun was taken out of play. Seriously, what was she thinking? I was proud of her flare of bravery but damn. That was a stupid thing to say. Help was so close to arriving.

He swore and cocked the gun, removed the safety, and aimed it at Tina. "You stupid bitch. It'll all be worth it when you're dead."

Everything merged together, happening too fast to separate.

"No!" I pushed Tina to the ground as he pulled the trigger, the sound echoing throughout the air. I fell on top of her as the first squad car arrived.

SEVENTEEN

The world pressed pause. Everything dulled to silence. Mr. Tinsley's leering grin gaped in surprise and a trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. He looked down with wide eyes and fell to his knees, letting go of the gun to clutch at his chest with both hands. The metal scraped like the sound of a marble being dropped into a tin can as it landed on the ground beside him.

He face-planted on the pavement, unblinking, his eyes frozen in a state of shock while a thick pool of blood spread outwards from beneath his body. I watched him die until finally, he was just dead. Gone. He would never hurt Tina or any other girl again.

The world moved forward again. Pain exploded within me, excruciating, burning with intensity.

The first time I died, death had been slow, dreamlike. It had been surreal in a way that made me feel like I had somehow been disconnected from my body, floating to hover above myself and watch from a distance without actually having to experience it. At least, that's how I had felt after the initial pain of the beating I'd been served had subsided.

The agony from a bullet was incapacitating.

From the hole it blasted through my body, pain radiated outwards, ricocheting through me until no part was left untouched. I didn't know where it began or where it ended. My body was on fire. Every. Single. Inch.

"Are you girls okay?" A deep voice questioned from above. I heard the metal of Mr. Tinsley's gun scrape against the pavement as it was kicked away, connecting the sound to the shadows in my peripheral sight. The blare of the police registered along with the crackle of their radios as they called into dispatch. First responders—police, paramedics, and firefighters—crowded in around Mr. Tinsley's body.

"Did this man hurt you?" the deep voice asked.

Sure, he'd hurt us. He'd sexually assaulted Tina and killed me. Correction: he'd shot me, which was now killing me. I was dying. Again. But all Tina said—all Tina knew—was, "We're fine."

I tried to open my eyes and look up at the man coming to our rescue. The echo I'd heard before Mr. Tinsley had slumped to his death must have been from his gun. Mr. Tinsley shot me as this man shot Mr. Tinsley. Two triggers, two bullets, and two deaths. All for the sake of one girl.

Tina tapped me on my back and I groaned, but I couldn't move. A weight had settled over my limbs and the connection to my brain had been severed. My life was all but over.

"Alyssa, get off me," she mumbled.

"Tina..." I gurgled, choking on my blood, the taste bitter with iron. I was getting used to it, but it would never be familiar.

"Alyssa?" Suddenly, Tina found the breath required to raise her voice. "Wait! Officer, my friend is hurt."

I felt their hands as they rolled me onto my back and off Tina. The officer swore and got on his radio as Tina yelled, "Oh, my God! Alyssa! No, no, no... This can't be happening. Alyssa!"

I couldn't reach out to comfort her.

"Put pressure on her wound," the officer directed Tina, though she already had.

Her hand was shaking. His hands joined hers in an attempt to pressurize the wound. Even when my blood seeped through the cracks in their fingers to match the stain I'd left on her shirt. She saw it and choked on another sob.

"An ambulance is coming. Just keep pressure against the wound, okay? We'll help her." The officer spoke in short, quick sentences, his tone hurried.

I knew that meant that my fear was confirmed: I didn't have much time left. I was dying and it was almost at the same time as before. Given that this time I wouldn't be tortured for hours first, I should be grateful, though the pain from a gunshot wound was like all the pain from what I'd felt before had been consolidated into the injury. Shouldn't it be less painful if it was quicker? It wasn't fair. Not just the agony I was feeling, but the fact that I was dying again—I changed what had happened! I should have been allowed to live!

Unaware of my inner fight, Tina complied with the officer's instructions without speaking through the tears streaking down her face, but it would be too late. Nothing they did would help me now. I would be dead before the ambulance arrived and before the school knew anything had happened.

I knew this feeling.

My eyes were hard to open. The pain began to ebb. I felt bad at how much more unhappiness Tina would feel, and how my parents would be left without me. I didn't want to be the source of anyone's pain, but nobody would make me regret dying to protect her. I heard her cries grow fainter and fainter until they ceased to exist.

My eyes went wide one last time before Death pulled me back into its darkness. I saw the sun peek through the clouds above as though trying to bring cheer to the horror below.

*****

"Alyssa Frank, we had hoped not to see you again."

"Yeah, well, it's not like you gave me instructions."

I looked around the familiar surroundings and shrugged. In the middle of the emptiness a chair had formed from the fluff of cloud underneath me, just as white and just as impossible. I sat, surprised when it didn't crumble underneath my weight.

"Just for the record, when you send people back to their lives for another 'chance', or whatever it is that you want to call what you did, instructions would help. An explanation, maybe, and I probably wouldn't have felt like I belonged in an asylum."

"You thought you were crazy?"

"You think?" I rolled my eyes. Even powerful, the voice was stupid.

"You were sent back to change things for the better, to learn from your previous mistakes." Just as it had the first time I had been here, the voice's tone fluctuated from high to low, different each time it spoke. It remained unseen, and I wished it would tire of keeping me so off-kilter.

I flung my arms out to my side and let them drop back into place. "Now you tell me. What am I supposed to change? I helped Tina but look"—I motioned to my body—" I'm still dead. No offense, but your plan sucked."

"If you hadn't stepped in front of your friend, you would not have died."

I was getting tired of the voice pointing out the ways I could have avoided dying after the fact. "I was trying to save her. I pushed her away and tried to follow." I sighed. "I didn't want to die. I'm only sixteen! I'm not depraved enough to feel like I have nothing to live for."

"Yet you don't regret it. Again."

"No, I don't. If you had friends, you wouldn't find that so hard to understand. Do you care about anyone? Don't you have at least one person that you feel you couldn't live without? That's what my parents and Tina are to me. They are people I can't live without. By not telling me what I needed to do, you're the one who let me die. "

"Friends and family are important, we know. What about yourself? Do you not care about your own life?"

"You misunderstand me. I regret dying because I want to live, or I guess I should say that I wanted to live. I don't regret dying for my friend who I love." I raised my chin and looked around with pride. "As far as I knew, I was dying anyway. Why wouldn't I want to do it saving my best friend?"

There was a pause before the voice spoke, and even then, its tone was without inflection. "Your friend isn't sharing your sentiment, Alyssa Frank."

"What are you talking about? I saved her and stopped Mr. Tinsley."

Silence descended, and I waited for the voice to continue. What was going on now? There was no way my death could be misconstrued this time. Even if they could somehow erase memories of events from peoples' minds, they—it—wouldn't go through so much trouble for me. There had been too many people who knew what happened. They couldn't plant a gun in my hand and try to pass my death off as a suicide. I opened my mouth to ask what the voice meant again when it spoke. One word.

"Watch."

That's it? "Watch what?"

"What your week of good deeds has done."

The space in front of me blurred as an image once again formed, this time of Tina. She looked terrible. After the week she'd had, I hadn't thought I could see her look worse, but I'd been wrong. I found myself needing to re-evaluate the first week I'd experienced before Death had made an impromptu appearance. No matter how bad I thought things were, nothing about that week could compare to what Tina had been feeling, alone and silent with no one to talk to. Even my one-time beating couldn't compare—I would move past it. Tina would always feel the pain Mr. Tinsley had caused her. If she ever wanted to date or get married or look up to someone who might have been able to help her but couldn't because she would never trust a male again... It would always be there. Every day she would live with what had happened to her and the reverberations of what she had endured would penetrate through every facet of her life.

Tina would suffer.

If she lived.

EIGHTEEN

In the image the voice decided to show me, Tina was alone in her room. She sat cross-legged on her bed, methodically lining up a row of red-and-blue striped pills in front of her, just below a row of orange pills that she had already placed. I watched as she opened her bedside table's drawer and pulled out another package of medication so that she could line up a row of white pills along the bottom. Three rows, at least ten pills per row. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and opened a fresh bottle of water she'd had at the ready on the bedside table.

She didn't even hesitate. She simply grasped one of each pill, shoved them in her mouth, and swallowed with a nod before reaching for more. Orange, red-and-blue, white. Three at a time. She did this over and over for a total of ten times until there were no pills left for her to swallow.

She leaned back against the pillows on her bed, a slow smile of acceptance spreading as she closed her eyes. She wants to die.

My heart cracked, folded in on itself, and then suffocated me with the grief of seeing my best friend do this to herself. She was lost. It was my fault. Where were her parents? Or even Des? Why weren't they comforting her or, at the very least, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't do anything stupid like taking pills to ease her pain?

After what she'd been through it was only logical.

"W-What is she doing?" I asked, horrified and nauseous.

"Life, for her, has become overwhelming," the voice explained. "At this moment, everything that she has been feeling, everything that has happened, feels like too much to handle."

"So she's killing herself?" I whispered, not expecting an answer.

I sucked in a deep breath, no longer feeling the freshness of the air around me. I felt trapped in the middle of the openness of the cloud which I now sat. My mouth hung and the crushing weight within my chest was too heavy for me to form the tears I wanted to shed, a concrete dam of suppression.

"She wasn't ready for people to know what she'd suffered. By being there, you helped her deal with it. When you died, that was gone. She had no one else to lean on. Now she feels guilty for your death and alone with her pain."

"But—"

"She's in a dark place, Alyssa Frank, and alone."

"She's not alone!"

The empty bottles of pills Tina had set on her night table fell to the floor of her bedroom, knocked over as she set her half-empty bottle of water down. The rest of her home was dark, quiet as everyone slept. Where the hell was everyone? She needed help!

"No! Please don't let this happen to her," I begged without shame for my friend. "They won't find her until morning and it will be too late."

"Yes."

"Call 911. Help her!" I looked around, frantic. I had died for Tina. No way was I going to let her die now.

"There are no such devices as telephones here, Alyssa Frank. We cannot stop this."

"Of course not." I rolled my eyes. "So, you can send me back to life, but not help her? What kind of entity are you?" I pointed back to the image. "Help her!"

"We cannot."

"Then you have to send me back again." I nodded, becoming surer with each breath that that was the right thing to do. Despite the anger that had begun to course through my body knowing that this was how she had repaid me, I had died so she could live. She was wasting her second chance. "I have to go back. She doesn't deserve to feel like this. I know I can change it. I can make it better."

"So, you are willing to fight for others and not yourself." The voice sounded amused while every breath I took depended on their decision. Its decision, whatever 'it' was. My fate was as the voice decided it to be.

"Can you please send me back? I need to make this right." I wasn't above begging if it meant saving Tina. What was a little dignity in comparison to having died? "Tell me what is expected of me. Why was I sent for a second chance at all?"

"Most people don't get a second chance at life, Alyssa Frank," the voice said. "A third is unprecedented."

"Yeah, well, I've always been a third-times-the-charm kind of girl." I smiled and shrugged. Okay then. I'd almost forgotten how dull the voice had been the first time around. At least this time, it wasn't as scary. It dawned on me how odd it was that I was getting so comfortable with life after death, and a voice I couldn't put a face to. "Please, just send me back one more time. I can do better."

The image of Tina froze but didn't fade. I couldn't look away. Her eyes closed, and she looked so peaceful it was hard to believe she was lying in her death bed. My heart beat so fast I thought it would pump its way from my chest. Maybe I was un-dead, I thought, without the whole monster-creature-of-the-night thing going on. I was pretty sure that I didn't eat flesh or suck blood, and that food—normal, everyday human sustenance—was sufficient for survival. Did un-dead beings have a heartbeat? What would happen to Tina when she died? Would she meet me here?

"If we send you back, Alyssa Frank, you must make certain changes. You have the ability to make things better. You just need to believe in yourself, think rationally with your head instead of with your heart. The right choices are there to be made if you look hard enough."

The image of Tina faded until it was nearly transparent, and then split. A veil of mist pulled apart, hooked on either side like curtains fastened open. "I've had two weeks of bad decisions to learn from. I think I can handle this."

"Alyssa Frank, there is an unlimited number of bad choices that can be made. Finding the right ones is a skill set that cannot be learned."

A light flickered to life to reveal a small room where Tina's image had been. The only part that remained of her now was an eye, staring out at me through the folds of mist gathered, steamrolling me with its accusations. I took a step back in a moment of hesitancy.

"An elevator? Seriously? You're sending me back in an elevator?"

"It's no different than before, though you will be conscious this time."

"But an elevator? How do I know this isn't some trick to send me to the fiery depths of Hell without a fight?"

"If you had been judged, your attempt to fight would not have hindered the outcome," the voice said, suspiciously close to laughing. "Go into the elevator, Alyssa Frank, and you will receive your chance. We wish you well."

Stepping into the elevator with no buttons to press, I closed my eyes as the mist came forward to engulf me. It wrapped me in its folds with Tina's watchful gaze front and center to make sure that I would never forget what I needed to do. I can do this.

I would save Tina's life so that I could kick her ass for trying to waste it.

This time I thought I knew what to expect before waking, once again alive. But instead of darkness, there was only light, a golden shine that grew brighter and brighter as the moments passed. Sleep didn't descend to embrace me. I was conscious, aware of everything even though absolutely nothing happened.

It was so boring, its dullness settled into my skin like an airborne virus.

The experience was good only for the opportunity to think without the chance of being interrupted. If I wasn't supposed to die in the first place, why did the voice want me to work so hard to be allowed to live? What did it want me to prove? How? If my choices were so important, the voice should just tell me what to do. How hard was that?

I slid down the back wall of the elevator to sit on the misty floor. Not as cloudy as the field of white, it was still surreal. Soft and pliable, it comforted the aches in my hips and legs. How long did the descent from Heaven take? I was close to having a nap, not because I felt pushed to do so, but because I was too at ease not to.

Thoughts of Tina crushed the idea.

Anger and disbelief went to war. While I was sad that my best friend felt so desperate the only solution she could think of was to kill herself, I couldn't believe I was friends with someone who would try. How could she do it? She didn't know what I had given up, but that wasn't an excuse. It had been my chance, too, until I had relinquished it so she could live. If she wasted hers, that meant I had wasted mine. I wasn't okay with that.

Leaning my head against the wall, I looked up as I started moving and noticed that the roof of the elevator was non-existent. The clouds I had been in while in the field rushed by with a whoosh of air, too blurry to distinguish detail. It was hypnotizing. Even when the clouds parted to the sky, blue as the clearest stream, I couldn't look away. The hues grew lighter the farther I plummeted. The elevator began to slow. I saw treetops, branches, rooftops... all with the most amazing detail, like viewing from the bottom of a fishbowl.

I blinked and began to fall as the bottom fell away from beneath me.

NINETEEN

The Brothers

The Celestial Realm

"Why can't we tell her what she needs to do?" I asked the moment I was alone with the First Brother, just after she was granted another chance.

We were in the highest of the seven floors inside the Brothers' personal quarters, a fortress made of glass that shone like a pearl and towered against the constant brightness of Heaven's Glory. It was a celestial work of genius in the midst of Heaven's grandeur and the only place we had to call our own. None of the choirs intruded. Not even He ventured near often, though He needn't be seen to be present.

"It has been forbidden. The Sisters were very specific. The girl must find her way on her own. Nobody—not any of us, her parents or her friends—will assist her when the cycle truly ends."

"Then I am not needed." My petulance was ill-advised and unwarranted.

The advice I'd interjected had been out of line. I knew, as each of my Brothers did, that it had been wrong to tell her about her choices. I was grateful that this Brother, the only one to surpass me in age and power, didn't hold me accountable. He was known best of all for his judgment, more so than any of us. If the girl didn't need to be in the presence of my power—the ability to make those around me discover their true potential—the First would have been ideal for the assignment to protect her as the one who ferried souls after their physical death.

"You should go back soon. It will begin again in a few moments." He didn't look up from the crystals that we'd used for voice modulation while she'd been here. It was a disguise made so that we could all speak without further confusing her. I hate it.

The first floor of our lodgings was open space without rooms and doors—a field of cloud which the rest of our home was lifted off of by invisible pillars. It was often used in times like this, aptly deemed to be the 'in-between' place for life and death. We could view it without being seen in this room. There were nine rooms on the top floor: seven bedrooms, a meeting room, and the seeing room where we were now. There was no need for washrooms or a kitchen, though they could be manifested at will if desired.

"I have time before I have to appear again."

I stepped forward to the waterfall of cascading clear blue water down an even bluer wall, a looking glass of sorts where I could watch her return from the beginning at a distance. It was where we—all seven Brothers—were able to see the first floor of our home while we were perched on the bench across from the wall as we used the crystals to mask the differing voices speaking to her.

I ran my hand through the cool water and asked, "Why was she granted another chance?"

"You wanted it." He raised his eyebrow at me and offered a rare wry smile of humor.

"I never want humans to die. It produces sadness and a profound lack of faith in its wake. Grief doesn't leave room for understanding. Since you ferry the souls, I'd think you would feel the same."

"You've grown close to the girl."

The First Brother joined me at my side and watched the girl merging with her past form during dinner with her parents. It was cruel to make her experience it over and over, but necessary. At least, it was the only way for her to gain what the Sisters said was needed: experience.

"Inevitable, don't you think, considering the circumstances." I cheered inwardly to see how well she adapted to the confusion of joining with herself while conscious.

"The Sisters have specific instructions on how to handle the girl. We can't openly help her in any way unless it is to protect her from unforeseen harm. We can't give her hints or tell her anything."

"I'm sorry if I put you in a position to defend our role. It felt obvious. I know I didn't say anything that she wasn't already thinking," I said, knowing that he was referring to my advice regarding her choices before we'd sent her back.

"Perhaps, but what's obvious to someone as timeless as us is not always so apparent to one her age. Or one of her kind—sometimes humans don't have an open mind. They do not tend to accept fantastical occurrences despite evidence of its existence. The thought had come from her, but it had been discarded until you confirmed it." He watched me with unblinking eyes.

"It won't happen again."

I removed the image as she began to prepare to bathe. I wasn't human, but I still had the anatomical parts of a man, complete with the desires and appreciation for the female form. It felt wrong to watch, even when doing so was part of our duty.

He raised an eyebrow at my reaction, studying me with a disapproving eye for signs of impropriety. "This girl is said to be able to have the ability of a sensitive, with an unwavering sense of right and wrong, but she keeps sacrificing herself for others."

"The first wasn't a sacrifice," I reminded him.

"Wasn't it?" He raised his eyebrow at me. "She knew she was dying and could have appealed to her captors, yet she remained silent, hoping her death would bring justice to others."

He made a good point. I regretted not having seen it. After seeing the strength of her character over the last week, I wished I had taken the time. Something within me screamed that I should have put forth the effort. It would have been beautiful—her bravery, not her death.

"Are you questioning the task we were charged with?"

"No, of course not," I said, not sure that was true, but confident enough that it hadn't become a lie. I cleared my throat and turned away to examine the wall behind the bench. "I know you would have judged her on the facts if she'd chosen that path."

"Every time this girl dies, she is sacrificing herself, Brother," he continued, ignorant to my inner confliction. "She sacrificed herself for her friend this time. The first time she sacrificed herself for justice, a lesson that others could learn from."

"I see that," I said, starting to lose my patience for the first time in... I didn't know how long. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I add, "I'm just saying that the outcome doesn't alter her goodness."

"Everyone makes choices that they think are right, even when they are wrong."

"Yes, and that's because of their perception. This is different. She is different. We can see the light in her."

I should ask to be removed from duty.

Instead, I looked to the left of the bench to the window. The glass was clear looking out but tinted against eyes wanting to see in. Its arched pane crisscrossed like vines formed from pure elephant tusks down its center to complete four sections. The glow from our home was a reminder of the goodness I saw in the girl. It wasn't just being in the same realm as her, not when she hadn't been present. Even when she wasn't visible for me to see there, I was here, watching from afar. It felt like it was the driving force of the breath my mortal form required. The First was right: I was too close to the girl. It skewed my ability to perform the task I had been charged with completing, but I couldn't form the words to have myself removed.

"She received another chance because the Sisters ordered it," the First finally said, breaking the silence, though I didn't look to him to see the judgment his expression would reveal. "She can strategize for possible future events. It is vital for her to learn how on her own."

He turned and walked away.

Waiting until the fall of his steps faded, I turned, watching the open door for a moment, and then sighed. I sat and returned my gaze to the cascading water, willing the images to resume now. Her bath was complete. The desire I had for her to succeed went deeper than the generic love I had for humans, but I couldn't put a name to it without fear of losing everything leading me to this moment. Would I be the first of my brothers to forsake my past to satisfy my present and build my future?

I couldn't deny the connection being in her proximity had created even though we had yet to speak to one another. Maybe it was the feelings that were ingrained into me with my creation? Did I have a choice over how I felt towards humans? I didn't know, I had never been in the situation where I had to watch over one before. All I did know was that love could be an ugly word for my kind.

To fall in love meant falling for love, too tainted to remain in Heaven.

TWENTY

Alyssa

Bubble wrap popped around me. From every direction, it snapped in my ears and zapped the surface of my skin as the air was pushed out of its pockets. I blinked, once, twice, and again. With each movement, the surroundings became clearer. The foreign sounds faded.

The confusion was so overwhelming, so disorienting, that I almost fell from my chair. The first journey, when I had returned without awareness, was easier. Now, nausea swelled to my throat and a mosh pit was rocking-out in my head. Even worse, this time I wasn't alone. Instead of waking in my room I was at the supper table with my parents.

Their mouths were hanging open, their forks paused in the air halfway back to their plates, and they were staring at me as though I had just thrown Scruffy inside of a box to play with a litter of kittens that hadn't yet been declawed. Had I shuddered? Jerked? Convulsed like a seizure was taking control of my actions?

No, they would have moved to help me if that had happened.

They said nothing. I held my breath. A minute passed, and nothing happened. Then, just as I thought I would pass out from lack of oxygen, they shook their heads and resumed their meals. My breath whooshed out and I looked down to the table, relieved but feeling let down. How could I learn what happened if they were made to forget seeing it?

"I asked you a question, Alyssa."

I looked up to see my father watching me. Damn, he recovers fast. I knew the topic, but still, I had no clue what part in the conversation we'd reached.

"I'm sorry?" I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had manifested in response to my transition. My father's scowl deepened, and my mother's fork settled with a clang onto her plate. Was the voice laughing at how fast I failed after being so certain I could handle this?

"Don't be flip with your father, Alyssa," my mother said. "Tell us why you've been cutting class."

Right. This was the part where I get myself grounded. I could get out of it, I knew, though the only way I could do that would be to narc on Tina. That's what I'd come back to change. I couldn't hurt her again. I'd rather stay dead.

The voice said it was about choices. It was easier to make the wrong one because there was such an unlimited number and so few that were actually right. How would I know the difference?

"Alyssa."

"I'm sorry for cutting, Dad. I don't have a reason," I muttered without looking up, hoping they wouldn't see through what I didn't say—it wasn't a lie, per se, but I didn't finish the sentence as it formed in my head, leaving out that it wasn't something they would be able to understand. It wasn't a reason that I could explain.

They both stared at me. I squirmed in my chair, but there was nothing I could do or say. I couldn't tell them about Tina, or even about the movies, without hurting her. I couldn't tell them I'd died not once, but twice, only to be sent back to make the 'right choices'. That would get me in a padded cell where nothing could hurt me.

Would that kill Death's plan to snap me back up?

Maybe it was worth considering.

"You must have had a reason, Honey." My mother reached out to place her hand on my arm.

I jerked away before contact could be made. Her compassion would crumble my resolve to do what was right, especially since I knew how easy it would be to do the wrong thing. Or what was right the wrong way. I could spin it and twist it into unidentifiable knots, but ratting out Mr. Tinsley? Not wrong. I just had to do that and not hurt Tina or die as a consequence, and then watch her die because I had failed.

"I don't. May I be excused?" I needed to get away from their questions and watchful, knowing eyes.

"Yes," my father said and tore his gaze away. "You might as well go to your room and get used to it. For the next month, it is school and home, and that's it. No phone, either."

"But—"

"Joe, Alyssa's a good girl. She will do the right thing without being grounded for a month. Right, Honey?" She smiled, but her words fell to the silence in the room, just as I knew they would.

"A week, then," he corrected, and my mom opened her mouth to negotiate on my behalf.

"It's okay, Mom. I was wrong to cut class for no reason." I patted her hand and stood. "Goodnight."

There were only two days to come up with a plan.

I sat in the tub for an hour and stewed over my options. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't generate an answer that felt right. The bubbles didn't ease my discomfort. Instead, the warmth of the water added to my frustration, making me feel too hot and clammy to relax. Monday morning would arrive quickly, and there was no time to reflect on what I'd done so I could figure out what to do—or not do—next. Doing the wrong thing didn't make finding what's right any easier, but I was too exhausted to figure it out.

Tomorrow was another day.

TWENTY-ONE

On Monday morning I walked into school feeling dejected. The gray walls taunted me for my failure until all I wanted to do was run home and hide under my blankets, just as I had over the weekend. I didn't wave at Suzie or look at the other students in the hall and try to smile at those I knew. Walking straight to my locker, I took a deep breath and waited for the cycle to begin again, hoping something would change to produce better results.

"Where have you been all weekend? Were you sick?" Tina wiggled her way in beside me, once again shoving the freshman boy away. I watched him, mouthing 'sorry' as he glared back at Tina over his shoulder. "Every time I tried calling, your mom said you were sleeping."

"I'm fine, Tina," I said without looking up. My hand hesitated over my dusty Health textbook, but I slammed my locker shut without removing it. "Let's go to the library, okay? I want to do some research for my Christian Ethics class."

"I thought that was your easy class?"

I shrugged and started to walk, not wanting to have to lie. If I lived past Friday, I could use my experience combined with the research I planned on completing to submit a paper for extra credit. It was win-win—no lying, easy grade. "It's a fly-by, Tina, but that doesn't mean I don't have to stop for fuel."

"What's that?"

She picked up her pace to stay beside me while the students that had been crowding the hall disappeared behind classroom doors before the tardy bell rang. I could feel her watching me, but I refused to be distracted. Keeping my focus on the double doors of the library at the end of the hallway was the only way to stop myself from telling her everything that had happened.

Would she understand why I would be mad at her for wasting a life I'd died to save?

"I want to research life after death," I told her and sighed. How long was I expected to keep this up? "Reincarnation? Angels, maybe. I'll know when I find it." It wasn't a lie.

"Why would you want to research that?" Tina snickered.

"I told you, for a project."

She rolled her eyes at me but didn't fall behind as I continued to the library. "You are weird."

I felt her gaze fall away from me to focus on the doors of the library, and I exhaled with relief. I didn't know if I had it in me to side-step her questions. I'd died twice now. Not having anyone to talk to was hard. How could I act normal? Like nothing was wrong and my world hadn't been spun on its axis? Knowing about what Mr. Tinsley liked to do behind closed doors made thinking about anything else near impossible and discovering the depths of his deception was unfathomable. By dying and coming back, all that he'd been forced to suffer had been undone. Maybe, as soon as Tina wasn't hovering anymore, I could nail him by proving he was a fraud.

"I know, but isn't that why we're friends?" I smiled, deciding that a happy front was a good defense, and pushed against the swinging double doors of the library. It bounced back, hitting my face as it collided with someone coming from the other side. "Okay, ow. That hur—"

My hand came up to rub my nose, and I scowled at the door as it began to open inwards. Whoever I'd slammed into was chivalrous enough to step away, but the damage had already been done. I better not walk away from this with a bruise.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"She's fine," Tina said and nudged me with her elbow. Yelping, I looked up as she added, "I'm Tina."

Real subtle, Tina.

I brought my fingers back to my face, self-conscious of possible damage. Tender, it didn't feel swollen. Still, it throbbed, and I was sure Rudolph's nose on Christmas Eve would be jealous. So embarrassing.

"That's Alyssa," Tina overshared, back to being bubbly and seemingly care-free, though now I could see through the façade, it was sad to see her act. "You can call her Aly."

"Tina," the boy said and turned slowly, a smile spreading to his eyes as he looked at me. "Aly. I'm David Parson."

"New guy."

I smiled, appreciating the fact that the start of the new week meant I could see him in his black t-shirt again. Even Tina wore the same outfit, an unfortunate combination of loose, unflattering jeans and a white t-shirt stained down the front from her morning coffee. She always tries drinking it too fast.

In a childish show of stubbornness, I had changed into something different, never wearing the same thing twice since the first week leading to my death. Today it was skinny jeans, a loose pink and white striped sweater that fell off one shoulder, and a cute pair of white ankle boots. David might not have been thought of when the outfit was chosen, but it was great that he had the chance to see it.

"I'm not sure where you're from," I said, "but that door is for coming in, not out. They have pretty little signs and everything." I pointed above the doorway to where it said 'in' on the right-hand side where we'd collided.

"Would you believe me if I say it was all so that I could meet you?" He smiled again, and it was impossible not to notice how perfect it was. The fleeting attraction I'd noticed when he'd been introduced in Mr. Tinsley's class grew with closer proximity.

My stomach flipped.

The boy was a flirt. Man, oh man, I so didn't have time to think like this. At least I can't see the scar. "No, I wouldn't, but it was nice to meet you." I tried to pull Tina forward, but she wouldn't budge, her feet rooted like a great white oak tree.

"Would you like to come and sit with—?"

"He has class, Tina." I narrowed my eyes on her and then turned to David with a forced smile. "Health, isn't it?"

He tilted his head and, although the smile had faded, humor danced in his eyes as he caught and held my gaze. "How'd you know?"

"I guessed." I pointed to the new textbook in his hands.

"Hmm." David furrowed his eyebrows as he watched me, specifically my face.

"What?" I brought my hand up to my cheek, brushing against my nose, almost forgetting why it was throbbing. "Do I have something on me?" Other than the bright red clown nose?

"Hmm." He nodded again and reached out. "Here."

His fingertip barely touched the tip of my nose, but I felt like he'd zapped me. I stepped back quickly, just out of reach, and brought my hands up to cup over my nose and mouth. The zip of his touch faded to a tingling, spreading outwards to my cheeks, then to my ears. It sounded like ringing for a second, then it was gone. I narrowed my eyes on David as he dropped his hand, a smile spreading once again on his face.

"You okay?" he asked.

Was I? I dropped my hands and realized that I was—the throbbing was gone. Weird.

"I—yeah." I nodded." Yes, I'm fine. See you around." I nodded again and tugged an unwilling Tina harder until she moved through the library doors. It was like trying to move a large boulder attached to the side of a mountain.

"Are you okay?" Tina gawked and tugged her arm free as soon as the door closed behind us and he was out of earshot. "He's hot! Did you not notice him looking at you? It was so obvious." She shook her head and crossed her arms.

Did she not see him touch me? I opened my mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. Of course, I noticed what David looked like. It was so noticeable, I could feel it. But I didn't know what had just happened. Was I losing it? Imagining things?

I shook my head and tried to push the whole scene from mind to concentrate on even more unexplainable events, hoping that I could find some way of making it all make sense. "I told you I have research to do."

"Yeah, you did." She dropped her arms and glared at me. "For some reason, I don't believe you."

"That's a winning spirit." I scoffed, looking at nothing in particular over her shoulder.

"Alyssa, come on! This is hokey." Tina side-stepped back into my line of vision. "What's really going on?"

"Sometimes things change. Mr. Holder gave us homework on Friday." I bit my tongue and nodded, bringing my eyes back to meet her gaze.

Keep it simple. Liars get caught up in the stories they weave because they lose the details. It was hard to stay on track without someone to talk to about what had been happening. If that meant ignoring cute boys, then I would ignore the cute boys. If I was here next Monday, I would remember they existed. I mean, it wasn't enough that I died and had to worry about what I was supposed to do, as well as what I knew was going on with Tina and Mr. Dumbass. Now I was imagining boys touching me and had to shrug it off because my supposed best friend was right there and didn't see it!

It was too much.

"I said I have research to do, okay?" I said quickly. "Geez. Don't you think we should think about something other than boys?"

"No." She was using her pissed off face now, and I couldn't blame her. Still, it was good to know she noticed how hot the boy was as it finally answered the ever-present question I'd had since the day we met. Or maybe it didn't, I didn't know. Tina could only think he was hot enough for someone else and she could still like girls. I wished I could just come out and ask her, not that it would matter. Still, given what was going on with Mr. Jerkface, I wouldn't blame her if she wanted to bat for the other team.

"Well, I do."

"Okay, Aly." She rolled her eyes. "Bitchy much?"

"I'm sorry, Tina. I'm crabby." I sighed. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Whatever. I'm going to the bathroom." She looked around and then met my gaze, flicking her wrist to wave her hand towards the stacks. "You can just go start the so-called research that's so important you snap at your best friend and can't seem to notice a hot guy."

I opened my mouth and then closed it. Arguing was pointless. She twirled away so fast she wouldn't hear a word I tried to say. I slammed my bag onto the nearest table and cursed. I am just making good choices all over the place.

The students at the tables surrounding me glanced up and glared first at me, and then the bag. The librarian put her finger to her lips to shush me into silence. Oh, puh-lease. Like anyone ever came to this library for the quiet. I took the heaviest book from my bag even though I didn't need it and slammed it onto the top of the table. Too easy.

I did it with another book and nearly laughed at the librarian's duplicated response.

My rebellion settled, and my thoughts turned to the research I hoped to accomplish. I doubted that the school library was going to have the answers to my kind of problems. The voice had been right: there were too many wrong choices. No book in the world could help me with making the 'right choice'. When Tina didn't return after ten more minutes, I knew that this was one of my failures.

I wouldn't have wanted to come back, either, if I were her. But then, if I were her, Mr. Tinsley's fingers would have been chopped at the knuckles the first time he attempted to touch me. Pervert.

There was no time to wait. I began scouring the internet on one of the computers in the corner of the room. There were ten or so outdated machines in the library and a few placed at random throughout the classrooms. To cut down the use of social media, Wi-Fi wasn't an option, so bringing my laptop was pointless. Even the elementary version of Royal Academy had better systems—an iPad for every child in attendance. Of course, that was acquired after I had graduated into high school, so I'd never experienced its novelty.

With the cost of tuition, you'd think it would provide better technology—I could read faster than the websites generated.

With a sigh, I looked up as David Parson walked back into the library, and I ran for the stacks. It wasn't hiding, but avoidance. Evasion was an easy solution for everything, though I couldn't stop myself from wanting to see him. Without giving myself away, I entered full-blown stalker mode and peeked around a bookshelf to watch him.

He was devastating. Dark blue eyes penetrated through me whenever our gazes met. They were so watchful and knowing like he knew something that nobody else did. His dark black hair, short on the sides and slightly shaggy on top, fell into his eyes when he bent his head over a book and I sighed.

He stood to talk with the librarian and his back turned to me, severing my trance-like perusal of his body. I ducked back behind the row of books and drew in a deep breath, closing my eyes so that I could focus again. Do not distract yourself with boys. Right. It was so hard not to look again. I ran to the furthest stack and restarted my search, this time with books, hoping that distance would keep my impulses in check.

Every sound brought my head up in case it was him.

TWENTY-TWO

The whole day was a waste. Tina didn't come back, not even for lunch. I searched every row of books—I didn't want to be seen looking through the card catalog in the middle of the room where David could see me. That might lead to conversation. But during the last class of the day, I found a few books about reincarnation and past lives. The one about karma held the most appeal. I mean, I must have been pretty crap-ass in my past lives if I couldn't make any of the right choices in this one. Or, if I thought about it with a smidge of optimism, I had some good mojo working for me, considering the chances I'd been given.

It must be somewhere in between.

I was granted the second chances but couldn't seem to get them right. Sooner or later, they were going to stop. They had to. I couldn't live in the same damn week forever, and no way did I have the luxury of running through all the possibilities of every choice. It wouldn't work—every choice I made would generate new ones to choose from in a never-ending string of options.

The final bell rang and jerked me out of my contemplation. I hadn't made it to a single class all day. There were no answers worth getting excited about, and Tina... Where was she?

Grabbing two books, I hurried to the check-out counter. I would find Tina and apologize until she forgave me. Then I would come up with a good excuse for my parents, try to explain my absences before the school had a chance to tell them first. With my luck, the first two times I'd get grounded would be in the same week.

"Here you are," the librarian said and handed back my books with the return-by receipt tucked into their pages. She was nice. She looked like she was somewhere in her thirties, but a little old-fashioned in her trademark skirt, blazer, and mousy brown hair piled in a high bun on her head. "Don't get many students wanting to read these."

"I have a project to do." I grasped the books to my chest and forced a smile. She smiled in return, a twinkle lighting her brown eyes behind wiry reading glasses as I said, "Thank you."

She nodded, and I turned away, distracted.

Where was Tina?

She wouldn't have left without me—I was her ride home. I moved away from the checkout counter to leave and once again face-planted against the door, this time with my forehead instead of my nose. No bruising, at least, but my patience, the small amount that remained, grew smaller as another piece was chipped away.

"Do you ignore signs on principle or just if it hurts me?" I saw David again and snapped. How had he made it all the way out in the minute since the bell rang? Why would he have started back in?

"I'm so sorry," he said and bent to pick up the books I dropped. "I keep running into you."

"You think? Maybe you could, I don't know, like, stop doing that?" I grabbed my books out of his hands without thanking him, stepping out of reach. Even though I knew that what I thought had happened earlier must be just in my head, I didn't give him the opportunity to touch me.

"Interesting topics there." He pointed at the books and I hugged them closer to hide the titles.

"I have a project to complete."

"Ah, for school...?" He looked at me, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. "Or is it for fun?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, looking away. Why would he ask that?

Most of the students had left in the ten minutes it had taken me to check out my books, and the hallways were almost empty. Whoever hadn't gone home had reached the destination of their extracurricular activity already—sports, drama, cheerleading... Still, I hadn't seen Tina, and anxiety began to pulsate outwards through my body from my center, replacing my annoyance and increasing my impatience.

"Maybe it does matter. To you."

I looked back to David in surprise, my concern for Tina having overshadowed his existence. Meeting his gaze eclipsed my worry, pulling me in and distracting me from what was important. I shook my head and forced my eyes back to searching the empty hallway.

"It could be nothing except that you're into different things." He shrugged and shifted his weight, glancing at the floor before up again. "That's not a bad thing."

"Yeah, okay. I'm different," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes, and checked every doorway for a sign of Tina. "Now that we've established that, have you seen my friend? Tina? She hasn't come back."

"You've been in the library all day?" His eyebrows rose to hide beneath his hairline. His gaze darted to the books. "Must be a good project."

I glanced back at him and attempted to smile before returning to watch the hallway. "Have you seen her?"

"Not since Health."

"What do you mean?" My head snapped back to meet his gaze. "We skipped Health. We always skip it," I said, and the worry gnawing at my stomach was shoved aside by paralyzing fear. A freeze gun blasted me from the inside out: one move and I would crumble, shatter to pieces on the floor.

"She was late, but she was there," he said and nodded. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Tina, right? Yeah... Really friendly with white glasses and super curly hair?" He made goggles in front of his eyes and then held his hands out around his head to make circles in the air with his fingers. "She was in class this morning. Why weren't you—?"

I grasped his arm and pulled him closer. "You're sure it was her? Like, no doubt at all?"

"Yeah." He nodded, pulling his arm back and looking at me like there was something on my face that grossed him out, but I didn't care if he thought I was off my rocker right now. "I'm sure. Why? Is something—hey!"

I dropped my books to the floor and bolted down the hall. I heard him call after me, but it didn't register. By trying to avoid—or fix, rather—my problem, I'd pushed her right into the middle of hers. Why would she avoid me to run back to him?

I knew she was with him.

The first thing he'd done when we had come back to class was to tell us to meet him after school in his classroom. If I hadn't been there to go in her place... I pushed my body to move faster and tried to reassure myself that she'd decided to walk home instead.

Please, please, please.

Don't let her be there.

The door of Mr. Tinsley's classroom was closed when I arrived. I slammed into the wall beside it to catch my breath, panting while doubled over with my hands on my knees. Not good. I was so scared of what I would find, I felt like crying. I could turn and run away so that I wouldn't need to discover what was going on behind the barrier. That would be the wrong choice. But going inside felt just as terrible as not going inside.

Only one of those choices could help Tina.

With a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut until the last possible moment. Please, please, please. Hoping that somehow, I was wrong, I nudged the door open. Please, please, please. I want to be wrong.

But I wasn't.

"You said you—this wasn't what you wanted." I heard Tina say. The vulnerability in her tone made my stomach twist into knots, and then shrivel into disrepair.

My eyes snapped open as he backed her up against the desk. Placed at a diagonal in the corner across from the entrance, I had the perfect side view. She flinched in fear the moment that her back hit the desk, just as it appeared when she realized there was nowhere for her to go. She darted her eyes around to find an escape—left, right, and then forward, where Mr. Tinsley's face leered down at her. She tried to look away but couldn't, not without another part of him blocking her view.

She was trapped.

"That was before you stopped our visits."

He sniffed her hair at the side of her neck and pushed up against her, his arms pinned to the desk at either side of her body. The room flashed red; I blinked, and it returned to high definition in front of me—my own personal 3D horror movie.

"Please..." She tried to turn her head, and his followed. "Don't." Tina squeezed her eyes shut, seeming to zone out just as she had said she did.

Where did Tina go in her mind that could pull her away from this experience? How could she pretend it wasn't happening to her? I couldn't do it. No amount of imagination could bring me out of an experience like this. Just seeing it was going to produce scars, leaving me with memories that would never diminish.

The room grew quiet, muffled like someone had plugged my ears and then shoved my head under water. Mr. Tinsley leaned forward and whispered something into Tina's ear, his lips hidden from being read. Tina shook her head and flinched. A single tear fell from closed eyes, but at least it proved she was still here. His hands slid to her waist and my vision blurred with disgust.

A fury like I'd never known rushed through me.

"Get the hell away from her!"

I didn't recognize my voice, an imitation of a man rumbling like a lion. They looked up. Tina seemed embarrassed but relieved, and Mr. Tinsley narrowed his gaze with a rage that rivaled my own. He hadn't expected the interruption. Arrogant Bastard. Stupid, perverted, corrupt... asshole!

I charged him.

"Alyssa, what are you—"

My head hit him in his stomach.

Mr. Tinsley grabbed Tina as he fell. She jerked sideways but managed to wiggle from his grasp. I pulled her back towards me. We watched him crash to the floor. His hand reached up to the desk and knocked over the cup of writing instruments. Still, he managed to pull back up, halfway to standing. I kicked him in the groin with one hand braced on the desk for added power.

His eyes widened and then squeezed closed. He fell back down and clutched at himself in pain, the vein at his neck protruding.

I pushed Tina towards the door, not caring how rough it might be, and stood in front of Mr. Tinsley. Bending at the waist, I pointed my finger in his face and said, "You are a pervert. If you ever go near Tina—or any other girl—again, I will ruin you. Do you understand? Mr. Tinsley or Mr. Zooksky or-or whoever you are! You won't see it coming, but trust me, you won't miss it!"

"No, Aly, you can't say anything about this." Tina grasped my arm and turned me around to face her. She looked like someone had kicked her dog, and I counted to ten in my head, trying to keep calm and not explode on her for her stupidity. "Please. I don't want anyone to know.

I had died for her, and she ran back into Mr. Tinsley's arms like it was the most normal thing in the world. She didn't know what I had been through, sure, but she didn't have to go to Mr. Tinsley—she had chosen to. What the hell was wrong with her?

What is wrong with me?

Even now, after saving her again, she was begging for silence. Before, I had mistaken her silence for embarrassment, but now I knew it had been acceptance—she was even more ruined than I had thought. How was I supposed to help someone who didn't want to be helped? I couldn't. It was about time that I stopped trying.

First, I would try one last time to pierce the delusion she'd built for herself.

"You can't be serious, Tina!" I motioned to Mr. Tinsley without looking behind me. "He... He molested you! He was about to rape you!" I shook her shoulders. If she wouldn't listen, I would shake the stupidity out of her.

She remained expressionless, looking down at Mr. Tinsley with what almost seemed to be sympathy in her eyes.

"How many other girls do you think he's done this to? How many more do you think he'll hurt if he isn't stopped? You could stop him!"

"He hasn't... He won't hurt anyone else, Aly." She forced a smile to her face even as the tears pooled in her eyes began falling over to slide down her flushed cheeks. "I'm the only one. He told me I'm—"

"What?" I rolled my eyes. "That you're unique? If you were so damned special to him, Tina, he wouldn't be doing this to you. God, open your damn eyes! What happens when you graduate? You'll become too old to satisfy him, and he'll start looking for other girls. He's a predator. It's what they do. I died for you, Tina, and you just went back?"

"You what?"

Crap. I took a deep breath and licked moisture back into my lips. "Never mind. What are you doing? Why would you come here? You know what he wants from you!"

"I—" Tina's eyes grew round and I turned.

"You'll never get the chance to tell anyone anything," Mr. Tinsley snarled.

"What the—" David stood at the door, and the sides of my vision narrowed until he was all I saw, haloed by darkness. The stricken look on his face distracted me long enough that I was unable to avoid Mr. Tinsley's lunge towards me.

"No!" Tina screamed and tried reaching out for me. It was the first sign of real emotion—of actual worry—and I felt a small, victorious moment of joy. Finally.

But she wasn't fast enough to help me.

David wasn't quick enough to help me.

I wasn't swift enough to help me.

There is an infinite number of ways to die—murder, suicide, old age. It made sense that there were just as many ways to feel while you die. I'd felt acceptance. I knew regret for the people left behind: fear, sadness—even curiosity. Now, I knew anger.

Hatred.

I was mad that I didn't get it right, furious that I had failed again. I was annoyed that Tina wasn't stronger, and I was livid that people like Mr. Tinsley existed, getting away with their crimes. It wasn't fair. I had unfinished... everything. I was sixteen! Why couldn't I live? Everyone should experience love and college, or marriage and children of their own to yell at—to love no matter what.

What I felt didn't matter.

It didn't last, either. Mr. Tinsley's arm crashed down. The silver letter opener in his hand plunged into the base of my neck, its point as sharp and deadly as a lion's tooth with prey caught between its jaws.

For the first time, my death was instantaneous.

TWENTY-THREE

"Alyssa? Answer your father," my mother directed as my father watched me.

The woman from the evening news spoke in the background, once again detailing the attacks Josh and his friends had just begun. It provided a timeline, at least, but left me confused. I shook my head. How was I at the supper table, once again reliving the argument that led to being grounded?

I died.

What happened to the layover in the clouds?

It was easier to know where I stood when I spoke with the voice before being sent back. That was if talking to thin air could be considered comforting. Maybe the voice didn't have anything to critique this time around. Was it because I didn't want to die? Or because I was mad about it. A terrible thought occurred to me, which I wanted to deny even though that wouldn't make it any less true.

Would I have shoved Tina aside if Mr. Tinsley had gone for her instead?

As much as I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, I didn't think so. Tina was my best friend, and I loved her, but I couldn't help someone who didn't want to be saved. It was hard to digest. I chose to not think about it, which was easier than admitting that I didn't know—or knew but would never, not in a million years, admit.

"Okay." I pushed my plate away and began to stand as I looked between my parents. "You want a reason for why I've been cutting class, and I swear I have one, but I can't tell you what that is. It's awesome, though, I promise."

"That's not good enough."

"I know, Dad, but that's what I have for you now. I know you're about to ground me for a month and then Mom's going to narrow it down to a week with no phone, and that's fair," I rushed. "But I won't break a friend's trust to avoid being grounded."

"We would never tell someone that you broke their trust, Alyssa," my mom said.

She looked up as I stood to my full height, a mixture of shock and hurt on her face. If I could do things another way, I would. But I was too confused to try to explain it. Three deaths were two too many. Now I was just pissed off, sick of whatever cycle I'd gotten stuck in, and felt like screaming, "Let me stay dead or tell me what to do!"

Of course, with only my parents to listen and think I was crazy, that would be useless.

I sighed. "They would know if I did, okay? So I can't."

"Alyssa—"

"Dad, I'm serious. I want to tell you, I do, but I can't. Do you want me to betray a friend? Is that the kind of daughter that you raised?" I raised my eyebrow at him and watched as he went from being angry to seeming confused, then finally, becoming resigned.

"I'm going to my room now," I said quickly before my father's emotions morphed into parent mode again and he started to demand an answer. "If Tina calls, tell her I'm grounded and that I'll see her Monday morning, okay? Goodnight." I walked out of the kitchen before their shock wore off and I was detained for questioning.

Closing my bedroom door, I leaned my back against the wood and sighed. Perhaps I should have looked in the library for how to parent a parent. Some philosophy or something. Hopefully, my parents would remain too shocked with my reverse psychology long enough for this 'chance' to run its course. Then I wouldn't have to worry about it because they'd forget the conversation that we'd just had.

It wasn't something I could dwell on right now. Confused, I ran over to the mirror and stared, turning this way and that to inspect my body with a sense of déjà vu. Once again, just like the first time I had returned, nothing had changed. I looked up and saw that my journal was how I'd left it that morning, identical to what I'd found with each return. I wore the same clothes, every accessory matching what had been worn the first time that I'd been grounded.

Had I been given another chance after failing too soon?

Was it compensation and if so, did it give me less than a week this time?

Or had the voice tired of my insolence?

*****

An hour later, I sat at my desk and stared at the monitor of my laptop, drumming my fingers against the top of the desk with an irregular rhythm. One thing had changed. It was baffling and so irrelevant, I had no clue where it fit. Beside my computer and on top of my school textbooks were the books I had checked out of the library—an act I had to complete this time around.

Choosing to take that as a positive sign that I had been on the right track, I opened a new search engine on my computer but then paused. How would I search for aliases? Looking up the plural form of the word brought up definitions. 'Choosing an alias' described picking an online persona or pseudonym. 'Legal aliases' wasn't much better, though there were sites that defined what it was and then proceeded to detail the legal repercussions of changing your name to escape the law.

Why was I looking up aliases in the broad sense when Tina had told me what names Mr. Tinsley had used?

That made it so much easier. Fun, even. Every name she had provided generated multiple responses, but given Mr. Tinsley's fetish, combined with his skill, it was as easy as breathing to narrow it down. The pieces fell into place and I hit print. It would mean nothing when I outed him if I couldn't provide proof verifying the facts against the identification in his possession, but all I needed to do was suggest to the right person—a teacher accused of a sexual relationship with a student was grounds for investigation.

I pulled up a fresh Word document and began typing as a plan formulated. This time would be different. I was done analyzing right from wrong. That wasn't me. Who cared what others wanted or expected? It was time to do what I wanted and, right or wrong, I would just live the week as though it was my last.

Maybe it was this time.

Mr. Tinsley needed to be taken care of or I would never be able to move past it, but it had to be done in a way that didn't hurt Tina. I was still pissed that I had died for her and she had had the audacity to stick up for him—how could she choose him over me? If Tina didn't care about herself, that was fine. I tried. She might not know it, but I had died trying, and she hadn't given a damn. I couldn't sacrifice any more time trying to protect her. Now I only cared about the other girls he'd done it to, and all the girls he would do it to if nothing was done.

If I could stop that, I could be free to live without the weight of guilt.

It had been my plan from the start, but all the crap with Tina and Mr. Tinsley had gotten in the way. That's what I had told the voice I believed in—to live for yourself was the only way to lead a full life. So that's what I would do. I would let go of my inhibitions, my fears, and my insecurities. I would forget about the fact that I was living in the last moments of my life, and just live like it was my final encore before the stage went dark. Take advantage of knowing I could try anything, and then enjoy trying to do it.

Why not?

What happened to having fun? Why shoulder all this responsibility for someone who didn't give a 'you-know-what' about herself? I hadn't chosen this; it had been chosen for me. So, what was the best way to let go of the burden? How could I deal with this in a way that made everyone happy? Except for Mr. Tinsley, of course—he deserved tortures I hadn't yet dreamed up.

What would accomplish that and leave me the freedom to live?

My fingers couldn't type as swift as my thoughts generated. Finishing so fast I would have made my Info Processing teacher proud, I hit print with a smile and attached the enclosures which would provide a detailed summary of Mr. Tinsley's fraudulent background.

Right or wrong, it was the perfect plan.

TWENTY-FOUR

On Monday the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and I knew that it was going to be a good day.

The gray walls smiled, providing more cheer than ever before. Everyone received a hello, even Suzie, who rolled her eyes in response. It didn't matter. She could shove a mascot uniform in my face and tell me I had to do the Funky Chicken, and I'd still be happy. Telling her off for it would be even better, and though I had no reason to expect it, I was a little disappointed that she didn't try. I owed her a good response after her altercation with Tina.

Whistling under my breath, I blew the dust off my Health textbook and tucked it under my arm. I'd gotten to school early, before even the most dedicated students, and made sure that copies of the letter I had written were left all over the office. The plan couldn't fail. I would be able to start living free of obligation by lunch.

"What happened to you this weekend?" Tina asked.

I slammed my locker closed and stepped away before she could shove the boy beside me aside. How had I not realized her disregard for others had extended to herself? Was she so disrespectful because she failed to feel worthy of it in return?

"Why are you grounded?" She stood with her hands on her hips, and a glare narrowing her eyes.

"For cutting class," I clipped. I had tried to let go of my anger over the weekend and see her side of things, but no matter how I played it out in my head, I couldn't overcome the fact that I had died twice for her for what seemed like nothing. Well, not nothing; just nothing to her.

"Didn't you tell your parents—?"

"Nope." I shook my head. "I didn't tell them why. There's no point." I started down the hallway as she sped up to keep pace, looking confused and more than a little taken aback by my tone.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Health, and you need to come with me." I turned to face her and smiled. It was totally fake, but whatever. "I know you don't want to, but it's okay. Besides, I don't want to go by myself."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Seriously. I didn't tell my parents why I cut class, but I don't feel like extending my sentence by cutting again." I sighed. It was hard to play the same part over and over again, and I was hoping that after this class, I could move past the repetitiveness of it all. "They'll be watching me like a hawk now. I'd be surprised if my dad doesn't phone to check up on me with the attendance office. He's pretty pissed about it."

"So why didn't you just tell them why?" Her eyes darted towards Mr. Tinsley's door and we stopped walking.

"Because it would raise more questions I don't want to answer." I watched her with a close eye but continued before she realized I knew what had happened to her. "I didn't want to be a tattle-tale, okay?"

Weird. She seemed disappointed. Why would she want me to tell on him if she wasn't ready? It was too late to question it, though. He'd get what he was due—at least for the movies—soon. I hoped that bought Tina time to 'get ready'.

Like Mrs. Haun had said: when allegations were made against a teacher, protocol demanded an investigation be conducted, during which time the teacher in question is suspended without pay. Maybe someone else he'd hurt—I was sure it wasn't just Tina—would be stronger than Tina. I didn't care if she never spoke up as long as she found someone she could talk to about it. I was pissed, yeah, but I didn't want her to carry the weight of what had happened alone.

"Look who has finally graced us with their presence!" Mr. Tinsley's voice rose above the sound of his applause.

I moved to keep Tina from his line of vision as we found our seats. Everyone stopped their pre-class chatter to stare up at us as we entered, but I refused to let them affect me. Not even Suzie, who was watching us with alertness I hadn't seen in a long time, couldn't break through the barrier I'd placed around me to deflect anything negative.

I would not give in this time.

"Here we are." I nodded.

What do you say to the man who killed you twice? Nothing. Because he wouldn't blink before killing me a third time.

"Tina, trade spots with me? I forgot to wear my contacts today," I said, cheerful.

I didn't wear contacts—had 20/20 vision, in fact—and Tina knew it. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she squinted at me as though trying to discern what drug I'd taken before school.

"There's a seat right here," Mr. Tinsley said, but even as he pointed at the front seat, its daily occupant slid in.

I raised my eyebrow, silently challenging him. "Not anymore. It's totally fine, Mr. Tinsley. I can see just fine from here." I smiled and set my books down on the top of Tina's desk without losing eye contact with him.

Tina paused for a moment before taking my spot behind Gary, a huge football player with a height and shoulder width I could never see past. Judging by Mr. Tinsley's scowl, I was sure he couldn't see past Gary to Tina, either. Good. I sat down with a broad, satisfied smile. Mr. Tinsley couldn't see Tina, Tina couldn't see Mr. Tinsley, and I... Well, I could see everything. It was perfect.

"You girls have a test to make up. Come by after—"

"We can't." I glanced sideways at Tina and nodded for her to follow along, not that it would matter by the end of the day. I felt bad about taking away her choice, but if I wanted to have something other than death in my final week of life, it was the way I had to do it. "We have an appointment, but we can get notes from someone. You're free to call my parents. They'll tell you we have to go right after school."

Not that he'll be free to call.

"Get the outline from a friend and come prepared to write your exam on Friday during class."

"Of course." I smiled and nodded as his gaze narrowed at me as if trying to determine what I knew or if I was playing some adolescent game. I smiled wider, laughter twitching at the corners of my mouth.

"What's up?" Tina mouthed when Mr. Tinsley began roll call.

I shrugged and bent my head to read the chapter I'd missed on the off chance that we would wind up with a substitute teacher who enforced his last edict. A failed exam wasn't much of a consequence. By now, the letter I'd drafted would have been read. Soon, none of this would matter, and I would be able to live without the weight of my solitary knowledge.

When the knock sounded at the door, I looked up, eager to enjoy the show I'd missed last time. But instead of the school officials that I'd been hoping for, it was David Parson. I'd forgotten about him since realizing I had the books from the library, though I was glad to see he hadn't changed. In fact, he seemed more attractive, if that was possible. Now that there was no inner reprimand running through my mind, it was like my senses opened up fully for the very first time. He didn't just look hot; he vibrated with an appeal, like a static electricity ball zapping you when you came too close.

Mr. Tinsley took the slip of paper from David and turned back to the class. "It seems we have a new student. David, why don't you introduce yourself to everyone? Where are you from? What do you do for fun?"

"I'm from all over," David said and crossed his arms.

Just like before, his t-shirt stretched and showcased his biceps that were obviously worked on—a lot. This time, however, my mind was clear enough to appreciate the rest of him without boundaries, and not one thought about refusing distractions. I committed every ridge and bump to memory. It felt so good to let go. I just hoped that the voice didn't have the ability with all their judgemental powers to read my mind and discover the fact that I was objectifying some guy.

"What do you do for fun?" Mr. Tinsley prodded.

David shrugged and gazed around the room, stalling to catch me staring right back at him, and enjoying the view. Yes, like an idiot, I was staring. Hard. But I couldn't help it. A small smile twitched at his mouth and I gasped, looking away to see Tina watching me before refocusing her confusion back onto David. When I worked up the nerve to look back, my breath caught to see that he was still staring at me with piercing, dark blue eyes set off by his early tan and short dark hair. It was disarming, the same almost-smile curling his oh-so-kissable mouth upwards—boys weren't supposed to have mouths like that.

"Well, David, why don't you take a seat behind Miss Amorfati? Tina, raise your hand." Mr. Tinsley side-stepped so that he could see Tina and she started to squirm, which made me glare in return, becoming distracted enough to raise my hand.

The class laughed. David's grin broke free with a low chuckle that somehow reverberated through me. I buried my head in my hands and groaned. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I was so freaking stupid. David walked to the side of the empty desk and then turned to the boy beside it, right behind me. He hitched up his backpack and shrugged.

"Feel like trading?" he asked Troy, a nerd with red hair and equally unattractive red glasses to match.

My face burned brighter as everyone laughed—well, almost everyone. Suzie glared which, of course, was aimed at me.

"Uh, okay? I guess so," Troy stammered.

David was bigger, stronger, and completely intimidating. Of course, Troy would say yes, not that I was complaining. From where David was standing, I could see his perfect scar. Yep. Still sexy.

"Thanks, man." David smiled and waited as Troy tripped over himself to flee, so flustered it was like the head cheerleader in all her blonde glory had just asked him out. After David took his seat behind me I could feel his eyes on me, burrowing holes into my head and tempting me to turn around.

I was supposed to be living unhindered this time, without inhibitions and insecurities. The moment I remembered my private pledge, my embarrassment vanished, and my confidence remained. I turned in my seat and smiled. Aw, what the hell? I threw in a wink for good measure, pleased to see curiosity spark a light in David's eyes.

"Aly, are you okay?" Tina whispered, looking alarmed.

"Never better."

A knock sounded at the door, and I winked at Tina. She continued to look confused, like every action occurring around her was out of sync with what she had been groomed to expect.

It was what I had made sure would happen.

If she truly couldn't see past what a creep Mr. Tinsley was, it wouldn't matter one iota how I proceeded. She would always be hurt. The scenario I had dreamed up, and then executed, was simply what was best for everyone. It wasn't just about my best friend this time, though this was the least detrimental to her—mentally.

Today was going better than I could have foreseen as I had plotted its events during the weekend. I had tried to imagine each and every way that my decision could unfold, and no matter what hiccup I could think of throwing into the mix, the outcome by choosing this route was always better than anything that had happened before.

TWENTY-FIVE

Mrs. Haun walked into the classroom without waiting for an answer. I saw Ms. Jessome standing quiet and somber in the hallway. She was accompanied by three uniformed officers and Mr. Douglas. I couldn't stop the satisfied smile from blooming and knew Mr. Tinsley and Tina noticed. Who cared? Really. Mr. Tinsley was finally going to be caught and Tina... Well, I was done with all that!

"What's happening?" Tina whispered and tried peering around Gary to see the front of the room. She sat back with a huff and turned sideways in her seat to face me. "Aly? What's going on?"

"Shh." I put my finger to my lips. "I'm enjoying the view. You know, I really can see better from here." I folded my hands on the top of my desk, looking so innocent—prim and proper, my mom liked to say—it was obviously fake. Without saying a word, I watched. If eyes could dance, I'd be drunk with joy. It felt so good to be here and see this, to watch as justice was meted out. The voice was wrong—I could think with my heart; it guided my head.

Mrs. Haun whispered something to Mr. Tinsley and he went to gather his things.

"That won't be necessary," she said.

He looked back to Mrs. Haun with alarm and then gazed out to the hallway. "These are my—"

"Not right now, Mr. Tinsley," she told him and pursed her lips.

He looked up at her, scratched the nape of his neck, and then stood erect. He looked over at me, and then Tina, with clouds in his eyes. It was the only visible sign that he was the slightest concerned—more like scared right out of his tighty-whities. Who knew what else they would find if they started looking deeper?

How many girls had there been?

We all watched as he walked out of the room and closed the door as if that would seal off the gossip and embarrassment of being hauled away from his job—his precious girls—by the authorities. Would it be wrong to haul ass around the room and shout in a much-deserved victory lap? That's what I felt like doing. If it wouldn't raise more questions—like if I was sane? —I would.

"Do you know what's going on?" Tina looked at me, but I remained silent. The more ignorant she remained, the less she'd be blamed during the fallout.

"Class is canceled for today," Mrs. Haun advised from the front of the room. "Please gather your things and find something to do until your next class."

The silence lasted for a moment.

She clapped her hands in front of her. "Come on, let's go! Library or quad, people. I will be checking to make sure each of you is recorded present in your next class."

Chatter erupted as everyone began filing out of the classroom. The remaining officer entered with his hand hovering over his holstered weapon like a student would try to disarm him. He had to fight against the mass exodus of students to reach the front far-left of the classroom and then began to sort through Mr. Tinsley's desk and the belongings he had kept in his bag. I saw a package of photographs emerge from the side pocket of his bag and felt justified, and more than slightly 'eeked' out, to see the silhouette of the female kind.

Please don't have one of Tina.

I held my breath for a moment and then let it whoosh out between my teeth, pushing the thought out of mind as I looked for something to distract me. I'd set this up in a way that kept me out of the equation and it defeated the purpose if I was to keep fretting about the consequences. Let it go, Aly.

"David," I called out as he walked beside my desk, touching his arm to stall him.

Suzie stepped around him as she passed, but her gaze never wavered from mine. What was her deal? I shook my head and smiled up at David.

"Tina and I are going to head to the library," I said quickly, keeping the grin firmly in place and hoped it didn't look forced. "Do you want to come?"

"We are?" Tina gawked at me with wide eyes.

"Yep. We are. Would you like to come with us, David?" I stared at him, one heartbeat away from batting my eyelashes as Tina stared at me with surprise.

David smiled. "I was going to the library anyway." He shrugged, pulling his bag higher as his gaze shifted between Tina and I. "Might as well enjoy some company."

"Why were you going there?" Tina stood and watched him.

After everything, he was the guy you are questioning on intentions? I rolled my eyes at her. Whatever.

"It's the only other room of the school I've been to," he said. "Assuming that we aren't counting the office, of course."

"We don't," I said, and took the lead as we filed out of the classroom into the corridor.

It was nearly empty now as the students from Mr. Tinsley's class scurried off to somewhere else on the off chance that Mrs. Haun revoked the free period we'd been granted. Once again, I found Suzie trying to catch my eye from her stance at the center of her circle of friends as we passed. What? Did she want to talk? Use your mouth, woman! After a year of being ignored, I wasn't going to be the idiot initiating that conversation. I would wait her out and let her come to me. She'd never been a patient girl.

"So, what was with that teacher?" David asked, seeming oblivious to my internal tirade against Suzie. "Can I expect that in every class?"

I shifted my gaze to him and almost tripped over my own feet as his question caught me off guard, but David reached out and caught me before I wound up face-planting on the hallway floor. I should have felt embarrassed, but all I could think was that his arms were just as yummy as I had imagined they would be. That thought was followed by the disappointment I felt when he released me.

"Yeah, Aly, what just happened?" Tina demanded.

It took me a moment to realize she was asking about the class and not my reaction to David. Too bad—one was definitely more interesting than the other.

"How should I know?" I stared at the floor and concentrated on walking without falling. "He's a pig. Somebody probably ratted him out to Mrs. Haun for making us watch porn. Really, David, you're lucky you didn't show up a couple of weeks ago."

"I thought guys like that kind of thing?" Tina scoffed, and I didn't understand the sudden animosity that seemed to be underlying her tone. "I bet David is sad to have missed it."

"I don't think we like it during class," he corrected, placing the hand that wasn't holding his bag's strap at his shoulder open-palmed against his chest. "I wouldn't."

"You're weird." I laughed but stopped when I noticed that Tina had fallen behind. Looking back, I saw she had come to a complete stop, standing still as she stared at us with surprise and suspicion. "What's up? Aren't you coming?"

"No, uh, I need to run to my locker." She looked at me, then the floor, not holding my gaze.

"We'll go with you." I took a step in her direction and she took another one away, looking like she was ready to bolt.

Tina looked up, though not at me. "No, I'll just meet you for lunch, okay?"

"You're sure?" I narrowed my eyes, though she wouldn't meet my gaze.

Tina glanced behind her to study the empty air as though there were free samples of her favorite perfume being exhibited that David and I couldn't see. For a moment, we didn't exist. Then she turned back and nodded, pursing her lips, but still didn't meet my gaze.

For a few seconds, I watched her, trying to discern what she was thinking. It wasn't possible, though. Deciding to let her have some time alone to deal with what she wasn't willing to talk about, I shrugged.

Smiling, I hooked my arm through David's, ignoring the zing of electricity that ran up to my shoulder, and said, "Guess it's just us then."

He tore his gaze away from Tina, which under any other circumstance I would question for its intensity, and then looked down to me. I felt almost like I was a distraction until he smiled, a twinkle lighting his eyes. "I guess I'll have to make do."

TWENTY-SIX

The moment of suspicion evaporated, like a bubble of tension popping to release as mist. It trailed behind us, escaping through the pores of my body and leaving me feeling calm but excited. Aware. We walked away from Tina, rounding the corner to enter the hallway leading to the library.

I slapped David's arm and he laughed, deep and soothing. I didn't mind Tina leaving, but what was her problem? Dare I ask? Last time I asked that question, it had taken me two deaths to work my way out of the answer. Whether there was a third was still to be determined. I might do stupid things sometimes—okay, a lot of the time—but I wasn't dumb.

"So where are you from?" I asked, shutting thoughts of Tina out of my mind.

I pulled open the library door, pausing for him to pass. It beat getting bonked in the head again, though amazingly enough, that had never bruised. Besides, coming in behind David wasn't without its perks.

By the time we cleared the entrance beside the check-out counter, it was clear I wasn't alone with the sentiment. Every girl in the library, including the librarian, looked up to watch as he entered the room. I felt like I was carrying a statement art piece they all expected me to leave behind to enhance the room's beauty. But David wasn't a stationary object, and he didn't seem like the kind of guy someone, least of all me, could lay a claim to. Perhaps it is just because he's the new kid, not because he was good looking.

"Around is a bit vague." I glared at the other girls as if to say, "Get your own."

"Well," he said, and pointed to an empty table in the far-right corner, just before the rows of computers, "I think I've been everywhere at least once."

"Huh, okay..." I rolled my eyes and set my books on a table, sitting in one of the uncomfortable metal chairs to look up at him. "Where was the last place you lived?"

"Vancouver."

Catching sight of his scar, I forced my gaze away. I looked down at the table and began fingering the seams of my bag, whispering, "How... city of you."

He took the seat beside me. "It was only for a month, so don't judge. I like smaller places. Everyone knows each other and watches out for one another, you know? That crap with Mr. Tinsley? Probably wouldn't happen in a small town."

"You don't think Hidden Springs is a small town?"

"I've been around, remember? If you were a small town, you wouldn't need two high schools, and Mr. Tinsley would have been flogged."

"Mr. Tinsley's a pervert," I said through clenched teeth. I couldn't stop hoping someone would come forward so that he would be dealt a swift punishment, something harsher than before where the only person who might die was him. "I'm glad he was busted."

"Maybe he was just trying to spice up the learning material?"

Looking back up to find David watching me, I said, "No, he's a pervert." I nodded. "Anyway, you never did say what you do for fun."

"I answered the question. It's your turn." He leaned back against the table, resting his weight on his elbows behind him.

"Okay, shoot. But if it's stupid, I'm not answering." I folded my arms across my chest and then leaned forward again, uncrossing them to shake my finger at him. "And nothing perverted."

"I would never—"

"Dude, you're a dude. You totally would."

He shrugged and the little smile I so enjoyed tugged at the corner of his lips again. My stomach flipped and electricity shot through my veins.

"I only have one question," he said, becoming serious.

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay..."

His eyebrow raised as his smile tugged at his lips once more. "Where's the bathroom?"

I blinked. "What? Oh! Seriously? It's, um, just down the hall." I watched as his smile became a chuckle. My shoulders slumped. "You're joking, aren't you?"

He shook his head but said, "Yes."

I tried to swat him in the arm. He moved away at the last second, causing me to nearly fall out of my seat and then collapse in laughter.

"You're a jerk."

"Maybe." He nodded. "So, do you prefer Aly or Alyssa?"

"I thought you only had one question?"

"Consider this self-preservation. Names and girls can be a touchy subject."

"Well, considering my parents always call me 'Alyssa Frank' whenever they are mad at me"—not to mention the voice, which I could never speak of without sounding like a complete crazy— "I try sticking to Aly with my friends."

"I like Alyssa, no last name included, better," he said.

I ducked my head to hide my smile under my knuckles.

"Is it okay to call you Alyssa, no last name included?"

Clearing my throat, I nodded. "So, what do you do for fun?" Changing the subject so we could discuss him instead was easier on my nervous system.

"I don't know. Read, I guess. Catch a movie. I've been so many places, I haven't had the time or gotten to know anyone well enough to do much of anything else. I guess that makes me boring."

"That would depend on who you're talking to. I like books." I coughed. I like books? Smooth—so obvious. "And movies. I would've thought arcades or something for you, though."

"I've never been to an arcade."

"Never?" I leaned forward, disbelieving. Was he a freaking monk?

"Nope." He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His gaze never wavered from mine.

"What about bowling?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Okay, what about music?" If he said no, I was getting up and walking out of the library. Enjoying the company of a cute guy was one thing. Corrupting someone so innocent, or at least severely sheltered? Not so much fun. I could taste the mud on my tongue, I felt so dirty. "You do listen to music, right?"

"That I have done." He leaned forward and pointed at me. "I like Linkin Park right now. You?"

"Three Days Grace," I said quickly. Telling him I also liked Linkin Park would be too much like I was just saying it for his benefit, despite its truth, so I settled for my second favorite. Then, like an idiot, I kept blabbering on about bands I had little interest in. Who talked like this? "But I like Katy Perry and Fallout Boy and stuff too, so I guess I'm weird. I even like country sometimes."

Really, Alyssa? I cringed at my idiocy. Country? Come. On.

"That's a pretty big range." He looked at his watch and sighed.

"Do you want to come with us for lunch?" I blurted, surprising myself.

The next class would start soon, and I wanted to see him again, sooner rather than later. Tina wouldn't care and having him there would help avoid the questions I knew she wanted to ask. She could be mad at me all she wanted—I knew I deserved to be cut a little slack in our friendship. Besides, the less than an hour I'd spent with David proved only that I wanted to spend more time with him, and I only had a week. Not even. Five days. Just four sleeps and then it would be Friday.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know." I laughed. "We usually figure it out when we get in the car."

"How—" His voice was cut off by the bell. "Where should I meet you?"

"Main doors? They lead to the parking lot."

We grabbed our books and stood, walking side-by-side. Did I mention how good he smelled? Wow. It was like standing inside a fresh rainfall or... a waterfall in the middle of untouched land. I wanted to ask him to an arcade or something after school to show him something he hadn't experienced before, but I was still grounded.

"Those are the doors beside the office, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, the only other room you know, right?" I grinned at him, tilting my head way back to make eye contact, and he laughed. "By the end of the day, you'll be a pro."

"I know," he said and stopped, showing me his schedule too fast for me to read it. He pointed to the door we reached and shrugged. "They have these helpful little signs and everything. See you at lunch."

I gawked as his words registered, almost exactly as I'd said to him. It was a common phrase, I told myself. It didn't mean anything. Neither did the books or our shared taste in music. If it did, I didn't want to know. No, I wanted to know. I was just too scared to ask.

I rushed to my next class and sat at my desk, the closest to the door. I watched for Tina, but she never showed. Her desk was right behind mine, so it's not like I could miss her. She never skipped English, loving it almost as much as she had hated Health. Words, how they were put together to form structure and images, knowledge, stories—Tina was as passionate about English as an artist was a blank canvas.

But she didn't show.

Phys Ed was next. Tina hated the gym, but she didn't usually skip that, either. Still, by the time I headed out of the change rooms, she hadn't shown. Once again, I started counting down the minutes until lunch so that I could meet David and phone Tina. Cell phones weren't allowed to be on while we were in school, but I could use it as soon as we left if I hadn't found her.

My skin tingled as I entered the gym like someone was watching me. I looked, but there was nothing out of place. Nobody even glanced my way. Taking a step forward for a new perspective, I checked again. Off to the left, sitting almost directly in the center of her friends, was Suzie.

Why wouldn't Suzie stop staring at me so damn much? What, she figured out that being mean wouldn't work anymore so she'd switched for creepy? I sighed. I couldn't find my best friend and I couldn't get my old best friend to stop looking at me. Would I ever find myself in a winning situation? No matter how well I managed to fix things, something else was always going to pop up to take its place.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The Brothers

Mortal Realm

"She's starting to trust her instincts, Brother."

My voice was filled with pride as I walked over to the bench across the street from the main doors of Royal Academy to sit beside the First. I had felt his presence while heading to class and followed its distinct essence to its source. It didn't take long. Creatures of habit were easy to predict. Besides, the bench was far enough away from students he could be here without suffering the taint of their existence.

Both of us were unseen to those around us, and after the last few weeks of playing the role of someone else, it felt odd to stay invisible. It was hard to sustain now, and I had to think about my intent to remain concealed. If not, my disguise would diminish, and I would be detected, forming as if out of nowhere.

"Yes."

"She was successful with the teacher. He'll be paying for what he's done for a long time, at least by human standards, and nobody else was hurt in the process," I added. "It was smart."

"Yes." He nodded, looking out of the corner of his eye to appraise me without expression.

"This is what she was supposed to do, isn't it? Scrutinize the problem and choose the best path with the least amount of backlash."

"Yes."

"Why are you here?" To annoy me, it seemed, but for what purpose?

"To talk," he said and looked up to the sky so that, had he been visible—human—the sun would have lit up against his face and cast away the shadows of responsibility. Invisible, the light shone through as though he wasn't there.

Really, we weren't.

"You're not saying much for someone who's come to talk." I looked past his shoulders. "Where are the others?"

"It's just me," he said.

"So, what's the deal, Brother?" I forced a smile. "The job is getting done."

"You've gotten close to her. Some would say that you're too close." There was an edge to his voice that I didn't understand, and it didn't feel comforting.

"Do you propose another way for me to help her? I have to be near her to help her, you know," I said. Without proximity, my gift would never work on her.

He laughed without humor and glanced at me for but a moment before looking forward again. "You're starting to speak like them."

I shrugged and followed his gaze, unable to pinpoint the source of his curiosity, but we didn't see the same view. Heraclitus, an ancient philosopher brilliant beyond his own comprehension, had been right to determine the world was always in flux. Nothing stayed the same. For our kind, we saw what our duties related to, which was why I saw a school with empty lawns and the First Brother saw... something else.

I laughed. "It'll pass."

"Yes, let's hope so."

The leaves hanging from the branch above us rustled in the wind but didn't touch either of us. Our true forms were a holograph of a human image, visually material, but physically immaterial. We were removed from nature's hand, oblivious to warmth and cold. Untouchable.

"So, what did you come to discuss?" I sighed. "It may not be as important as my usual duties, but I don't have much time before my next class begins."

"Be careful of your attachments here," he warned. "The girl has come far, much faster than anticipated, thanks to you. Now that she is in school and around you, she is starting to tap into her potential."

"She still has a long way to go." For her to warrant the Sisters of Fate and the interest of the Brothers? It wasn't a small hike reserved for weekend getaways.

"She's going to experience pain soon."

I snapped my head around to gape at him. Pain? After everything that she'd already been hit with?

"The decisions she's made were the best for those involved, but they aren't easy for her to bear." He rubbed his hands against his thighs. "It'll be difficult for her to overcome everything and continue to avoid taking the easy way out."

"What? Like dying? I've heard that isn't all that easy, you know, not to mention painful." My stomach churned at the thought of her being in any more pain. Perhaps it's because I felt responsible for her now that she was a duty. I refused to think of it in any other context or I might have to admit something I wasn't ready to realize I had started to feel.

"The decision to die is an easy one to make compared to choosing to live through the pain of losing a loved one. Dying hurts and it's hard to understand, but it doesn't last—the pain stops when the heart ceases to work." He looked at me and held my gaze. "The pain of loss has no definite timeline. It will always be there, in her heart, at least minimally, for her to draw upon. Even Death can't take that away."

"She's stronger than that." I hoped. She could be if she allowed herself to realize it.

"Really? She's died three times because of the choices she's made."

The Brothers didn't send her back this time. Her return was mysterious, though unquestioned. "True, but she didn't know—"

"You must not tell her, Brother," he warned with a quiet but deadly tone and turned to face me. "All of this will have been for nothing if you tell her what you know."

"I don't know anything."

"You know what she needs to do, why you are here for her, and that is more than she can know."

"Why? The Sisters said so?"

"Yes."

"You know, I don't know how much stock I really put into that." I shook my head with a snort. "They are like bickering children. For such powerful beings, they don't give off a great impression to reflect their importance."

"How can you say that?"

"What? I'm not wrong or I wouldn't be able to say it. They're fanciful," I pressed on. "How much of this is as they say, and how hard do you think they're just yanking our chains?"

"We have to respect their wisdom."

"We're older than they are!"

"They see what we cannot. Defy them and you will be defying Him," he said, leaving no room to argue. "Do not share your information, little as it may seem, with the girl."

"Do you know anything more about her yet?" I watched him, trying to measure his reaction, learn for myself in what he might be omitting.

"Not yet, but I will be seeing the Sisters soon." He looked me in the eye so that I could see the truth in what he said. "I hope to find out more then."

I rubbed my hands against my jeans, the fabric oddly comfortable now, and stood. If he had nothing to say, I had no reason to stay. "I will see you when you have news then."

He hesitated and looked away.

"What is it?" I shifted my weight, wanting to leave to get to my next class before the bell sounded.

"Nothing, Brother," he said, fading from sight. "I'll see you soon."

My shoulders slumped, and I watched until the shimmer of his departure faded in the air. The task had begun with such simple purpose, but somehow it was harder than all the other duties the Brothers were responsible for carrying out. She was just a girl, a human, and shouldn't have the power to make me question what I should be doing: obeying.

That was the purpose of my creation.

I guess that's why history was riddled with nations destroyed by love and sons overthrowing their fathers. No matter what was expected of you, you're the only one that can live up to your potential purpose. Until now, I thought angels were immune, and never understood why anyone of us could choose to fall.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Alyssa

"Great job on the physical exams, girls," Mrs. Zimmerman, who we called Mrs. Z, exclaimed. "Every one of you improved in stamina since last time, so each of you received passing grades. Today we will begin a new section."

Mrs. Z stood at the center of the room, talking down to where we sat on the floor around her. I was on the edge with the rest of those who weren't cheerleaders. They were sitting in the middle, the only group clustered together as though stating their superiority. Why, I didn't know. We all knew what they thought of themselves, and it's not like there were boys present for them to look good in front of.

The stage sat to my left, its curtain drawn to hide whatever production was under construction. Three sets of bleachers rose behind us above the doors leading into the change rooms, one for boys and one for girls. Two basketball hoops hung on each of the longer walls, one on each of the short, which were raised unless it was game day. The lines painted on the floor made for two short basketball courts and one full-length. The size didn't matter. I only played when obligated to get a good grade.

"Can't we just like, have a free period as a reward for everyone passing?" a girl asked, and Suzie and the rest of the cheerleaders laughed.

How could they expect to be considered athletes if they were so lazy? It figured one of them would ask such a brainless question. Way to live up to the stereotype, girls.

"No." Mrs. Z smiled. She looked like a former cheerleader but acted like the girl next door. "We are starting our square-dancing section today."

A collective groan escaped from us and Mrs. Z raised her hand for silence. "Cheer up, girls! You don't want to be complaining when the boys arrive, do you?"

I winced as all the girls let out cries of excitement. Not me. There was always an odd number of boys to match the girls. I dreaded the reminder of my lack of social standing. I didn't have a lot of friends, but as far as I knew, I wasn't a loser. I wasn't bullied, really, unless Suzie was in a foul mood, but that applied to everyone—even the boys. I preferred to think of myself as being selective, refusing to lower my standards to settle.

The boys entered through the door connecting the two gyms behind me. I didn't squeal or run to pick out a partner like the other girls. I turned slowly, knowing that whatever boy was left at the end—if there was a boy left at the end—would become my partner through the process of elimination. One more month, and I would be free from this torture. Seniors didn't need to take gym class.

"Where's your friend?"

I turned to see David standing beside me in school-issued black shorts and a plain gray t-shirt. My heart fluttered, speeding up before stuttering to a halt. I didn't want him to witness my social failure, but he was watching me with a grin, and I felt myself melt to the floor.

"I'm not sure," I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat once I found my voice. "She's been MIA for the last two classes. I haven't seen her since she took off on us." I looked around and noticed more than one girl waiting for the chance to partner with him. "I'm sure you'll be able to find someone to take her place, though."

"Oh." He looked around, as though this kind of thing happened everywhere he went and wasn't a big deal anymore. "I came over to see if you would be my partner. You guys just seemed attached at the hip, and I wanted to see if she was okay."

"I don't know what she is feeling—or where." I shrugged, and a slow smile lit my face, not just at the thought of him asking me to be partnered with him by choice, but because I was anxious to enjoy the other girls' reaction when I said yes. "I'll call her when we go for lunch."

"So, Alyssa, will you be my partner?" He held out his hand and all the girls who had been watching scurried about to snag the last of the boys.

My grin widened, and I nodded consent. Well, duh, of course, I said yes—I'd wanted to be held in his arms since the first moment I had seen him.

He stepped closer and leaned in to whisper, "I'm glad. I know fewer people here that I do rooms."

I could totally get used to not coming in last.

For a half hour, we were instructed on the basics of square dancing. We stood side-by-side but never touched. I was too aware of his presence to pay attention to directions. The anticipation was unnerving. My body was coiled full of energy, as tight as a spring wound too tight to bounce. How was it fair that I could stand so close to him without being able to touch? I could feel his warmth. Just an inch to the left, and I would be able to hold his hand in mine, but I was too scared of rejection to try.

"Now, let's try forming our sets, hmm?" Mrs. Z said, looking at the couples with a smile. "Four couples to a set, okay? Hurry now, there are only twenty-five minutes left. I'd like to try a few basic moves before the end of class."

Swallowing, I looked up at David. The couples around us stepped away to form a square of four students: two 'heads' and two 'sides'. We didn't even have to move. David looked at me and smiled, and then nodded downward. When I followed his gaze, I saw that his hand was held out to me. My heart flipped in my chest. I took a deep breath and licked my lips, looking up one last time before fitting my palm to his.

His fingers entwined with mine, enveloping my hand with double the size like a blanket tucking me in before bed. It was warm and soft, and surprisingly comforting, but nothing like when I grabbed his arm in the hall. Then we had been separated by the fabric of our clothes. Now... Well, skin-to-skin was an out-of-body experience, like I was floating down to watch from above and still feel the electricity the connection shot through my limbs, reminding me that I was alive.

"Okay, now that we're in position, hold your partners' hand," Mrs. Z instructed. "Boys stand on the left, girls on the right. Whichever couple is standing closest to me will be couple number one. The other couples will be numbered two through four, counting counter-clockwise.

"Now, bow to your partner," she said. "Don't stop holding hands. Boys bow, girls curtsey." She paused a moment, waiting until each couple did as directed. "Now bow to your corner. Again, boys bow and girls curtsey."

If she wasn't being so descriptive, I'd be lost. All I could think about was David. His touch, persistent and consuming, overshadowed dancing. Without it, I had no idea how long it would have taken for me to get past the fear of rejection. Would he have made a move? Or did he think of me as a friend? Like he was only being nice to me because I had been the first to be kind to him.

"Now, let's try swinging our partner. Nothing showy. Just go through the motions a few times, and maybe tomorrow after we learn a few more moves, we can turn on the music."

David let go of my hand to step in front of me so that we were facing one another. I looked down, feeling the cool of the air-conditioning against my skin where he had been holding my hand, and felt deprived. Who made these rules? We shouldn't have to let go in order to swing. He should be holding my hand and pulling me closer, not stepping away. Or were those the rules and he just didn't want to follow them because he didn't want to keep touching me?

Was this feeling one-sided? Delusional?

"Alyssa?"

I looked back up. David had taken a step closer, bringing us an inch apart. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I couldn't blink as my eyes were too busy watching his every movement. How was I still breathing?

"We're supposed to swing now," he said, his voice coming out as a breath against my ear.

He placed his right hand on the small of my back, shooting a zap down into my legs to turn them to jelly. But he took my right hand in his left and pulled me closer, holding me so that I wouldn't fall. We began to turn, round and round and round, fast enough so that I should spin with dizziness. I'd never felt more grounded. For a moment, it was like nobody existed. We were alone as everyone around us misted until it was just us, dancing in the clouds. Soft, comforting and surreal, it was nothing like the in-between I had experienced after dying.

"Okay!" Mrs. Z called, clapping her hands.

We stopped spinning. Everyone came back into focus, but David didn't let go. Standing still, we held each other's gaze and my heart began to slow.

"We'll pick up where we left off next time, okay? Go and change. Five minutes until the bell." Mrs. Z tucked her clipboard under her arm and walked away with the boys' coach following at her heels. They bent their heads together and talked without looking back.

Had anyone noticed us dancing?

I stepped back, out of David's arms, but he continued to hold my hand in his. When I tried to pull away, he held tighter. Could it be? Was what I was feeling mutual?

"Why don't we meet outside the change rooms in the hall instead of by the office?" he asked. He looked down at our hands and then back up, smiling. "Five minutes?"

Five minutes seemed like it would take five years. Couldn't we just go wearing our gym clothes? With him beside me, I didn't care who laughed at me for a seemingly lack of fashion sense. Besides, if he remained this close, and kept skin-on-skin contact intact, I wouldn't notice people looking or hear what they had to say.

"F-five minutes." I nodded.

Wanting to hurry, I started to pull away. He squeezed my fingers once and then surprised me by taking a step forward, quick but long enough to bring us back within inches of each other's faces. He leaned in and kissed my cheek, brushing my hair back to tuck it behind my ears. His hand lingered, rubbing the strands between his fingertips.

"Go and change, Alyssa," he whispered, his lips lifting off my cheek just enough so that I could feel his breath as he spoke into my ear. "I'll be waiting in the hall."

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, my breath pausing in my throat as I tried to inhale. My head swam with his scent, so strong I could taste it on my tongue. Too fast. How could I think of liking him this much this soon?

David let go of my hand and stepped back. His hands landed on my hips and he applied just enough pressure so that I turned towards the doors leading to the change rooms. He paused. It was less than a second, but long enough that I became aware of his proximity once more, my back to his front. Then he pushed me forward, gentle but firm, and all contact was severed.

I faltered, not wanting to walk away. But then I realized the faster I changed, the quicker I could see him again and ran to the doors he'd positioned me to reach. It was a good thing it wasn't the boys' room. The need to hurry was so overwhelming I didn't look back or check the sign on the door.

Five minutes was a long time. Three was pressing my patience. I pushed through the door and ran to my locker, prepared to finish within two.

"So, are you guys like, dating now?"

I placed my hairbrush into my locker and grabbed my bag, ignoring Suzie's question. It wasn't hard to pretend that I hadn't heard her. She couldn't be surprised if, after a whole year without a friendship existing between us, I thought she was talking to someone else. After changing within a minute and a half, I'd wasted the final half minute brushing my hair. There was no time left for Suzie.

"Aly?" She moved to stand beside me, and I couldn't ignore her any longer.

That still didn't mean she would be able to keep me from meeting David.

"No, we aren't dating."

"But you like him?"

"What do you care, Suzie?" I hitched my bag over my shoulder and turned to her. My tone remained emotionless and my face expressionless, but inside I was floored with confusion. "We aren't friends, remember? If I did like David, which I am not admitting to, why would I tell you?"

"I'm trying, Aly," she said. Her expression looked pained. Obviously, it had been hard for her to talk to me and that having me shoot her down for the effort was like a stab to the heart.

"Trying to do what? Annoy me?" I shook my head and took a step forward, side-stepping her so that I could pass by.

"We need to talk."

"Oh, no. We don't. You made that more than clear last year."

"Aly—"

"Goodbye, Suze. I must go. If you really want to talk, why don't you find one of your drones?"

I hurried out of the changing room and into the hallway, forcing myself to keep my gaze forward and not look back at her. How long had I waited for her to approach me and say something like this? A year's worth of relief flooded my system, followed by annoyance. Did she have a sensor that told her when I was happy so that she could ruin it? Maybe, if she tried to talk to me again, I would listen.

Right now, I had better things waiting.

Despite how fast I was, David was leaning against the wall opposite the changing room door with one leg bent to rest his foot against the wall. He smiled and held out his hand. I grinned, and my shoulders slumped. A sigh of relief escaped, and I nodded once and then stepped forward with my hand outstretched.

Thoughts of Suzie escaped the moment our skin touched, the familiar zap forcing a mindless buzz to fog my mind.

TWENTY-NINE

"Did you get a hold of her?" David asked, taking his seat across the table from me at the window seat we'd secured.

We had decided to head to Tiki's, a restaurant half a block away from school that had the best tacos. The sun, unlike during my other chances at life, was shining down on us, not a cloud in the sky. The breeze made it perfect walking weather and David was the perfect walking partner. Then again, even if it were snowing, I wouldn't notice so long as we were touching. The whole way here, I didn't let go of his hand.

Now that we were seated and no longer holding hands, other thoughts began to filter through my head. The fog in my mind lifted and my vision cleared. Confusion over Suzie, worry for Tina, and more than a little hope for what David and I could be fought for attention. I found myself trying to prioritize what needed to be addressed first, if at all. It would be so easy to ignore the first two and go with the one I wanted to pursue.

"She's never ditched like this before," I mumbled, playing with my phone.

I tried texting Tina as soon as lunch began, and then phoning her when David was in the washroom. She hadn't answered either attempt, and I had surrendered to trying not to worry. Had what happened with Mr. Tinsley upset her? Was she pissed that I wanted David with us instead of taking the time to explain what happened to her? The fact that she took off without explanation irked me. Why couldn't she just grow up? It's not like anybody knew about what she'd been through.

David placed his hand on mine to still my fidgeting, and I looked up, his touch so effective my heart forgot to beat for a moment. "I'm sure she's fine and just forgot her phone or something."

"Maybe." I shifted in my seat and sighed. "Yeah, I guess that could be right." I nodded. "She tends to lose it a lot." By a lot, I meant never. Saying that just made me feel less neurotic.

"Hey, don't worry about it. If you haven't talked to her by the end of the day you can go check on her at home, right?" He didn't move his hand, which made me feel a little better. It was reassuring, and definitely more distracting, than what he was trying to say.

"I'm grounded. I can't go check on her tonight."

"Well, I don't know her, but I can check for you if you want?"

Seriously? Boys like him were freaking unicorns. They surprised you, coming out of nowhere when you least expected it to sprinkle magic all over your broken heart. Or, in my case, untested heart—my lack of experience was an embarrassment to all sixteen-year-old girls around the world.

"No, thank you. Her mom would totally freak if some boy came by to check on her, and you don't even want to think about how her dad would react. If he's home, that is." Why was David so nice? "I should be able to have my grounding lifted tonight anyway."

"Why were you grounded?"

"For skipping Health." I leaned back, and we had to break contact as the waitress set our lunch in front of us. "I wouldn't tell my parents why."

"Why not? It sounds like you had a good reason," he said as he chewed a French fry.

"Yeah, I did." I nodded. "But if I had told them why before Mr. Tinsley was caught, it would've gotten messy. Like, really messy. Anyway, it doesn't matter if you have a good reason for doing something. You still did it, and it is still wrong in the end."

"I guess. Don't you think there's a gray area? It's all just black and white?"

"I think that there are shades of gray." I swallowed my fries with a sip of soda. "But what someone does is black and white. You either do or you don't, right? It's not like that with reactions to what has been done. There are too many choices and consequences for your choices for it to be black and white."

"So, you've thought about this before."

I looked up and saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. If he only knew.

"Alyssa, are you the reason Mr. Tinsley was escorted from class today?"

I shrugged and looked away, popping another fry into my mouth to buy time. What do I say? Yes? No? I sucked at lying, and it would be nice to be truthful with someone. The reaction I imagined him having, not so much. "It was the best solution I could think of. Sometimes outing someone has consequences for other people who don't deserve the backlash. I just wanted to do the right thing without hurting anyone. He was wrong."

"I agree."

"So, is this another stop on your journey or are you sticking around?"

He didn't know the full story, and I was afraid of telling him. Would he look at Tina different? Or think I was crazy? I dipped a fry into his ketchup, trying to act as if the question held no importance to me. His answer wouldn't affect me, though it may very well shatter my fragile facade of sanity.

It was happening just like before. Suzie had ditched, and then there was Tina. And that turned out good. Now Tina was AWOL, and here, right in front of me, was David. He had the possibility of being great, but if he wasn't sticking around... Well, that could turn me into a great mess.

"I don't know." He looked away. "It isn't my choice. I go where I'm told."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm lucky that way. I've lived here my whole life. I can't wait for college so that I can get away. But never having a real home or not being able to make friends long enough to keep them? Never going to an arcade? That sounds too lonely."

"Well, I'm here. With you." He reached over and squeezed my fingers before twining them in his own. "I'm not lonely right now."

"I'm glad." I looked down at our hands, my stomach flipping in response. "It feels good, not being alone."

He smiled and looked down to where our hands linked, and then glanced back up from under hooded lids. "Lunch again tomorrow?"

"Um..." If he stopped looking at me like that, maybe I could form a sentence. I cleared my throat and looked away, just long enough so that I could swallow without choking on the cotton ball drying out my throat. Once I felt recomposed, I glanced back and erected an air of confidence I didn't feel, though my voice came out sure and steady. "Of course, we're having lunch again tomorrow."

It beat having to figure out what would happen in a few days.

THIRTY

"Alyssa, Honey, we're in the kitchen," my mother called when I entered the house after school.

I had dawdled, I knew, but not by much. Just long enough to say goodbye to David, which took forever, and look for Tina one more time. Not that it mattered. I couldn't find her. The annoyance I'd felt towards her after finding her in Mr. Tinsley's classroom was at the point where not talking was the best thing for us. At least for now.

Issues don't trump common decency or, oh, I don't know, friendship. How hard was it to send a text? It took maybe fifteen seconds. Thirty if you were trying to be sincere.

"What's up?"

I dropped my bag in the doorway of the kitchen and walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Both of my parents were seated at the kitchen table and based on their expressions, they had been discussing something I wasn't sure I wanted to be let in on.

"Why don't you have a seat, Honey?" My mother patted the chair beside her. I leaned back against the fridge and swigged half the water in my bottle. Even my dad was trying to smile in an uncharacteristic attempt to coax me into compliance.

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes on them both, filled with suspicion.

I had great parents, but we weren't the sharing type. We never had family nights or took annual vacations together, and I figured most of the time they were just happy to know that I was doing well in school, had friends, and wasn't bullied. Unless the school called about me skipping class, that was. Then they stepped in, but to be fair, it was only the one time.

"Alyssa, we need to talk," my dad said, "about Tina."

I lowered the bottle but didn't move. She'd told? Who had she talked to? Why did my parents know this before me? "What about Tina?" I held my breath.

"You should come and sit down, Honey."

"What do you know about Mr. Tinsley, Alyssa?" My father always got right to the point. As an independent adjuster, he worked pretty flexible hours, but this must have been deemed important for him to be home. Like lawyers, adjusters billed by the hour, which also meant that he would skip out on dinner tonight and work to make up for the lost time.

"What do you mean?" I looked away, distracting myself with the garden I could see from out the kitchen window. The sky was dark, threatening rain, and the flowers that had just begun to bloom were swaying with the wind.

"We know that Mr. Tinsley was escorted off of school property, Alyssa," he said. "Tina told her mom."

"So why are you asking me about it then? You already seem to know." I shrugged, refusing to make eye contact.

The first rule of conversing with your parents as a teenager: never admit to something unless you have to. There should be like, a guidebook or something. You don't need to lie. Just keep your answers short and only answer direct questions. Stick to 'yes' or 'no' as much as possible. Always think of how your answer will be received—or misconstrued—before saying anything at all. You never knew what would come back to bite you in the ass.

"Why didn't you tell us?" My mom looked hurt like she thought I felt I couldn't trust them. "Why did you want to be grounded?"

"Right, I wanted to be grounded." I rolled my eyes. "That was your guys' fault, not mine." Technically, I'd grounded myself this time, but they had been leading up to it. "How was I supposed to know that you'd stick with it for once? Besides, getting grounded was better than being a rat. If I had told you about Mr. Tinsley, you would have kept me home and called the school, and so would Mrs. Amorfati. Our lives would've been hell served to us cold by the rest of the students."

"So, you went to class today knowing you'd have to watch..." My dad shook his head and scrubbed his hand down his face, and then looked up to meet my gaze. "Why?"

"Ew! Dad, that unit was over, so the movies were done with. Besides, Tina and I had to be there when he was escorted out so that we wouldn't be blamed for ratting him out." I smiled at the memory of Mr. Tinsley's capture.

"Why would you be blamed?"

"Because I ratted him out—anonymously, of course." I shrugged, and my smile grew wider.

After those pictures were found, and then his aliases were found, he was done. No more teaching, no more enjoying fresh air, no more anything. He would be locked away and kept far from little girlies like Tina who couldn't stick up for themselves. I was proud to take credit for that.

"Look, not everyone thought he was a creep, okay? I didn't want them to know it was me who told. At least this way Mr. Tinsley has nobody to blame but himself."

"Okay, well, you aren't grounded anymore. I wish you would have told us, but since it's been dealt with, I'll let it slide." He looked to my mother for permission to continue, their silent 'agreement'. "If this Mr. Tinsley ever comes around, or you see him anywhere, you need to call me, okay? I'd like the chance to have a few words with him."

After the way that he almost served Mr. Tinsley his own goodies on a platter the first time around? Sure. Not a problem. I'd love to see Mr. Tinsley try to stick up for himself with my dad. I'd sell tickets and make a profit from it.

"Tina is staying home tomorrow. Maybe you should stay home too."

"No, Dad." I shook my head and pushed away from the fridge. "If we both stay home we'll be blamed anyway. I want to go to school." I want to see David.

"Is there anything else that you aren't telling us? Did Mr. Tinsley, uh, did he do anything to you girls? Or any girl you know about?"

"Ew, Dad, no. I'm fine. I haven't let anyone dip their hands in my cookie jar." I smiled to see him cringe. I was almost seventeen—he should be happy I could still boast about being a virgin. "Can I go now? I want to call Tina. She took off on me today and didn't even bother to call or text that she was okay. I looked for her all freaking day, which is why I'm late, by the way, so I totally can't be in trouble for that."

"It sounded like she wasn't up for chitchat." My mom looked to my dad, who just shook his head.

Weird. Was there more?

"You can go, Alyssa," he said. "You're no longer grounded. If anything like this ever happens again and you don't tell us, you'll be grounded until you're married."

"So how would I ever meet anyone who would propose to me if I'm grounded?"

"Exactly." He smiled.

Got it. "Does that mean I can make plans for tomorrow?"

My mind was already in overdrive, making plans with David. Arcade? Bowling? How would he react if I suggested a make-out session in the back of my car? Good, I hoped. Not that I'd ever have enough nerve to suggest it.

"Tina probably won't be allowed out."

"I have more than one friend, Mom."

"I didn't mean..." She shook her head, biting her lip. My dad picked up the remote and turned on the kitchen television to listen to the news.

"Two more attacks were reported last night. One of the victims, still unknown, is undergoing surgery to repair a life-threatening injury. Stay inside, citizens, and tune in tonight for the eleven o'clock news for another update."

I tried to tune the newscaster out, my stomach heavy. Each limb felt weighed down by guilt like I should be doing something—anything—to help stop the escalation of Josh's sadism. Shaking my head, I cleared my throat and said, "I was going to ask David—he's the new guy—to come to the arcade or bowling or something."

"Alyssa, I don't want you dating a boy we haven't met."

"Chill, Dad. We're just friends," I emphasized, though if I was honest, it was totally not what I wanted us to be. "A group of us might go, so it's not like we'd be out alone. Geez, what do you take me for? Easy? We just met, Dad."

My mom looked at my dad and nodded her consent. I wondered if every parent was taught silent communication skills so that their children didn't know what was going on. Mine passed with flying colors, and more often than not, I was left in the dark.

"Fine," he relented. "You can go, but you have to be home by ten. It's still a school night."

"Eleven? With Mr. Tinsley gone, I have a spare in first period."

"Fine." He nodded.

"Thanks!" I ran out of the kitchen and flew up the stairs to my room.

Tina didn't answer her phone and I didn't have David's number, but for the first time during the repetitive weeks, I fell asleep with a smile and dreamt of clouds.

THIRTY-ONE

David met me in the library the next morning for first period.

Tina still hadn't picked up her phone. If I didn't know what was happening, I might have been hurt or angry, and of course, confused. But I understood, and really, I couldn't complain about the one-on-one time with David, not while he was holding my hand. To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to spending time with Tina right now. I was too angry and way too jaded by what had happened over the last few weeks—a week? —to sit back and laugh over things that seemed unimportant to me now.

David, on the other hand, was far from unimportant. He made my heart thrum like a little mouse scurrying away from being trapped. I couldn't think whenever he was within range—or breathe or notice anyone else but him. For the first time in my high school career, I was glad I'd woken before my alarm to get ready so that I could look nice for him.

"I'm no longer grounded." I beamed at him, feeling happy.

He squeezed my hand. When I had first seen him, long before we had spoken to one another, I'd thought he was an unnecessary distraction. It was the wrong assumption. He was very necessary. Every girl should be able to experience what I was feeling before they died. It couldn't be love—could I fall in love within a week? —but it felt good. My heart raced, my skin glowed. Knowing that he was here to talk to seemed to make everything that was going on with Tina easier to bear. Hell, looking at him made me forget about Tina and her problems.

It even made me forget about Death's fetish for my soul.

That was something you couldn't put a price to.

"Oh? That's awesome!" He leaned forward in his chair, his head half-turned in a way that allowed him to look up through dark lashes and heavy lids. "Want to hang out tonight?"

"I don't know." I feigned indifference, looking to the side and up at the ceiling. "I guess so. I mean, if I'm not sick of you by the time lunch ends." I shrugged.

He nudged me with his knee and started to let go of my hand so that he could stand. "Then I guess I should just find something else to do—"

"No, no, no," I rushed, clutching his hand with mine to pull him back down to his chair. He let me, and we both laughed. "I was joking! Of course, I want to hang out tonight."

He shifted, settling back into a comfortable position with his legs stretched out in front of him, but he never let go of my hand. Giving me a gentle squeeze, he asked, "Movie?"

"Too predictable," I said. "Let's try something less dark and more active."

"Miniature golf? Tag football?"

"Yeah, um, no." I shook my head, smiling. "I want to go to the arcade tonight."

"Really? Why?" He tilted his head and looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Is this because I've never been to an arcade before?"

I shrugged. "Maybe? Tomorrow I totally want to go bowling."

"You're joking." He laughed and then looked at me, sobering. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No, I'm not joking. It's totally part of my charm."

"I see that." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering to trace a path down my cheek. "It's cute."

"Really? Because we just met and I'm talking like we have some great big huge future in front of us. We went for lunch! I wouldn't call that a date or anything," I burst, only pausing to suck in a mouthful of air. "Do you even want a date?" I rolled my eyes and wished that I could just shut up before he thought I was nuts and booked it out of the library. No such luck. "And if we did date, I'd drive you loony, you know. Yeah, I would drive you crazy." I nodded and sucked in another breath.

"I—"

"I totally drive myself batty, too, you know. It's nothing new." I sighed, looking sad after having talked myself out of everything I'd dreamt could happen between us in the fraction of a minute that had passed since I'd begun talking. Ranting. If he didn't get up and walk out, I would be surprised. "But I don't usually talk this much. It's been a stupid week, though, and I—"

He leaned forward and, just as the warning bell rang for the second period, kissed me. It might have been in school—in the library of all places, that was so open and not private it couldn't possibly be special—but it shut me up. My eyes opened wide in shock. Before I could decide whether to struggle or just enjoy it, he sat back in his chair and smiled.

It was totally special.

I licked my lips and sighed. Warmth spread through my body and I had to blink several times before realizing I'd fallen out of the kiss and back into reality. "I know I should ask why you did that, but... Why'd you stop?" I stood to follow him when he got up, and my legs wobbled in protest. How could he look so calm? I cleared my throat but stayed quiet, my lips tingling with pleasure.

"I'll see you in third period." He smiled and leaned in to place a chaste, brotherly kiss on my cheek.

Funny, but it didn't feel so chaste, and not at all brotherly. It just made me want more.

"Save me a dance." He winked.

Nope, not chaste, I thought with a stupid grin and slowed to enjoy the view I had while walking behind him. I had started the week out in the right direction, trading Hell in for Heaven. Maybe this time I could skip over the dying part and keep on enjoying the living part. I couldn't fit the things I wanted to enjoy with David into one week.

The arcade, bowling, movies, and dinner were just the tip of what I wanted to do with him, and those were the tamer ideas. Skinny dipping, making out at my bedroom window while my parents slept, cuddling in one of the hot springs hidden in the caves at the edge of town. There were so many firsts I hoped to experience with David. Maybe I was wrong, and you could fall for someone in a week or less. My parents had. They said it was love at first bump as they literally met by running into each other. Now, almost twenty years later, nobody could question the staying power of that relationship.

Still, even if a week was long enough to know you loved someone, it wasn't long enough to enjoy how you felt when you were with that person. The voice had asked why I was willing to fight to save others and not myself. I'd thought that if I died so someone I loved could live, I would be able to deal without regrets. Now? Well, I still didn't want the people I loved to die, but if Death took me on Friday, I had discovered a reason to fight for me. In life, David could be the brightest spot in my existence. In death, he was the one thing that would make me feel like I had been cheated.

At least, if I died, I would have experienced my first kiss.

THIRTY-TWO

The Brothers

The Mortal Realm

What. An. Idiot.

Only an imbecile would spit—no, kiss—in the face of the rules that had guided my kind since before Creation. With the suspicion of the First already cast, there's no way it had gone unnoticed. At the very least, it must have been reported or was in the process of being conveyed in detail. My kind was forbidden to mingle with humans in such a way.

There was no future.

"What did I do?" I whispered to myself as I walked down the halls of Royal Academy.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I knew it was wrong. So then why did I want to turn back and kiss her for as long as she would allow? The question shouldn't be what I did—I knew that already. I could still taste her lips on my own. But why did I do it? Why risk everything?

I didn't know.

Thousands of years and I had finally experienced it for myself—my first kiss. I'd watched lesser beings succumb to a woman's touch, had seen them lose everything I thought should matter more, but I'd never understood the temptation. Until now. Was my belief stronger than my desire? Again, I didn't know. I wasn't sure if I wanted my belief to be stronger at this point.

This was their fault. My brothers had pushed me to agree to watch over her. The Sisters had requested it. He had allowed it. Had they all known the temptation? Was that why they hadn't wanted to do it, and why it had to be me? It was humbling to feel the emotions of a man falling for a girl despite the responsibilities of a god—or angel.

Another hour passed, and I found myself searching for her at the start of gym class, anxious for the music to begin so I had an excuse to hold her in my arms. It was wrong. It was against all the rules. But, despite the consequences, it felt too good to ignore.

The moment she walked into my line of vision, all my doubt dissipated. A soft golden light radiated from her, not yet free but unable to hide. The air was sucked from the room until she was all that remained, and I knew that I would be kissing her again.

I would stay with her as much as possible for as long as possible. My beliefs were still important, but this one girl had wiggled in, warming my heart in the way that made me grateful to have one. Like so many of those before me, falling for this girl was doomed to redefine what people meant when they said 'falling' in love.

When the time for a choice to be made came, I knew the answer. Good or bad, it was what it was, the first real thing in my life. For now, I would just be here for her.

THIRTY-THREE

Alyssa

It was easy to fall into a state of obsession for all things David. When I wasn't busy thinking of him, we were together. We partnered again in gym class, gravitating towards each other like magnets. Even with resistance, it was impossible to avoid. Every touch of skin-on-skin felt like electric shock treatment, though the aftereffects produced a sense of euphoria rather than sending us into la-la-land. Already people were talking about us as a couple.

We walked to Tiki's hand-in-hand for lunch. I couldn't remember feeling so happy with Suzie or Tina. I felt alive, like all the times that I had died had been a dream. At the same time, I was terrified. If Death came and I couldn't escape it, the time with David would come to an end. An hourglass ticking down like a stopwatch pounded in my head.

Remaining calm on the outside so that David wouldn't notice, panic swelled within. Just because it didn't boil on the surface didn't mean it didn't churn below. What would happen if I died? There wasn't enough time.

"Are you okay?" David asked, watching me while he held the door open so that I could enter the restaurant first. His hand fell to the small of my back.

"I'm fine," I said.

"You're sure?"

If he looked at me with any more concern, I was going to blurt my craziness for him to judge. I was saved from answering with another unconvincing 'fine'. Tina called while the waitress sat us at a table to eat. Hearing her voice, I remembered how much I wanted to talk to her so that I could know that she was going to be okay. How could I forget that? Oh, right. David. Was it terrible that I hoped the conversation would be brief?

"Hey, where have you been? Sick?" I had to play dumb, of course. Explanations at this point were impossible. If she cared, which considering her severe lack of presence, I doubted.

"No, I just... I wanted to stay home and spend time with my mom," she said. The usual spark in her voice was absent, and I felt a tingling of unease creep up my spine.

"Oh?" I looked up to David, but he was providing me what little privacy two people sitting across from each other at a restaurant could pretend to offer by leafing through the two-page menu. "How come?"

"Just because. I don't know."

"Well, the next time you bail, could you try telling me you're leaving? I looked for you all crapping day on Monday. Then my parents told me you were at home? What the hell, Tina?" I lowered my voice so that David could speak with the waitress. The whisper was swallowed by the voices of customers. "What's going on?"

"My parents are getting a divorce, okay? My dad accepted a job in Manitoba," she snapped.

Okay, wow? How could I not know this? What a crap deal. It seemed unfair to pile on more pain on top of everything that happened to her with Mr. Tinsley. It was no wonder my demise had destroyed her last time. This explained why nobody had checked on her when she'd killed herself.

I had missed seeing so much before I died the first time that, in a strange way, it had been beneficial to have experienced it in different ways. Despite the pain of ridicule and feeling embarrassed to the point of wanting to hide under the blankets on my bed, it provided a clearer view of the bigger picture. Dying three times helped with that. Not only did I see all the ways things could go awry as each chance played out, I saw more and more what I'd missed. It seemed so obvious now, like a map that had been made with invisible ink, but the spell had broken so I could see its markings.

"I'm sorry, Tina. I know how much you're going to miss him." Silence descended across the line and the tingling feeling returned until it grew to a blaring crescendo. Another road revealed itself on the map in my mind, just as clear as the rest. "Tina?"

"I'm not going to miss—"

"You're going with him, aren't you?" My voice went flat, but I knew the words were true before she confirmed it. "When, uh..." I cleared my throat. "When do you go?"

"That's the thing," she said with a heavy sigh. "I have to leave Friday morning if I go with him."

"You can't take a couple of weeks and meet him after?"

"It would be too hard."

"What about your mom?" It made sense that that's who she should choose to stay with. Her dad was never around. Why would she want to live with someone who was so absent it seemed like he didn't even care?

"She's staying here, with Des. I think she might sell the house and get something smaller, but they're staying."

"Then at least you can still visit." It wasn't the response I expected, but I couldn't force my logic on her.

It wasn't all bad. I might not even be here to miss her, I reminded myself. I knew she needed something, and if moving helped her deal with Mr. Tinsley, I would be happy for her. At least, I would try and pretend whenever she was around, which wouldn't be very often. Maybe by the time she visited, I might be used to her being gone, and just enjoy the time we did have.

"I promise I'll visit."

"Can we hang out before you go?" I looked up when our food arrived to see David had started watching me like he knew I was in the middle of losing my best friend, maybe forever.

"I've got a lot of packing to get done, and my mom keeps trying to distract me so that she can optimize the time we have left together, but feel free to come over and help. I want to see you before I have to say goodbye." Her enthusiasm felt false.

"How about tomorrow after school? I have plans with David tonight, but I'm sure he'd understand if I had to cancel."

David nodded at me even though he didn't understand what was going on, having heard only half of the conversation. It was sweet, but it made me feel as though I had to put on an act. It would be so embarrassing if I broke into an ugly cry. We hadn't had a date, though even if the two lunches we'd shared could be considered a date, tears were a sure-fire way of making sure another opportunity wouldn't be presented.

"David?" Tina gasped with her usual enthusiasm. "The new guy? Are you guys like, dating or something now? Wow, that was quick."

"Yeah, the new guy." I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed. "I don't know the other answer, but... I think so? Seem to be, anyway."

"Did you kiss him yet?"

"Yes." My face flushed even though I knew that he hadn't heard her and had no idea what my answer was about. "Look, Tina, our food just came. Can I call you later? It's kinda rude to go for lunch with someone and then spend the whole time on the phone."

"Unless you're talking to the person you are having lunch with."

"That would be too weird, not to mention pointless." I laughed.

"Fine, but if you don't call me right after school, I'm never talking to you again," she warned.

My breath hitched in my throat and the first signs of tears misted my eyes, clouding my vision. I blinked, trying to keep them from falling. Once they started, I doubted they would stop. I'd wanted time away from her to get over her lack of gratitude, which felt unwarranted considering she didn't even know what she'd done, but I didn't want her to go away forever. There was supposed to be time to get over it.

"That's not the best joke, Tina, considering." I coughed. "You know, since you're moving away and all? Just say that you'll be pissed. I promise I'll call you after school."

"Fine, you get the point. Later."

I set the phone down and looked at David, rolling my eyes. It vibrated, and I glanced back at the screen to see a text from Tina saying that she'd be expecting my call before 4 pm. I laughed and turned the phone off before stowing it away in my bag. I wasn't planning on ever saying goodbye to her. It was too final, and I felt like I was saying it was okay if I wouldn't see her after Friday.

"I'm sorry," David said and reached out to take my hand. "Where is she moving to?"

"Manitoba."

"You guys are great friends. You'll stay in touch."

"Right. I don't even know how long it would take to drive there, not that it matters since my stupid car would never make it." I sighed and bit into my sandwich. This was going to suck ass.

"It'll work out."

"Just tell me that you have zero plans to leave, okay?" I said between mouthfuls.

"I don't plan on it."

"But?" I swallowed, and my smile died. He looked away, pushing my sense of something being wrong into overdrive. "I hear a 'but' coming."

"If I get told we're moving, which has always happened in the past, I won't have a chance to choose," he said without expression, and silence descended between us.

The sounds of the restaurant grated on me: the pans coming in and out of the ovens, spatulas on the stove, the happy chatter of customers, waitresses taking orders and serving food. Even the register as it clinked open with another sale made me feel like hitting something. Everybody was leaving. Just for a moment, I forgot that I might be working towards certain death. What was I supposed to do when they were all gone?

"Let's treat every day like we won't get another one then. We can forget about people taking off and just be happy," I said after a few minutes. "Is that okay?"

He leaned forward and cupped my face in the palm of his hand. Right before he kissed me until my toes curled, he said, "I can do that. You've made me happy since the first moment I saw you."

"Hmm." I pulled away and looked around the room. "I think people are starting to stare."

He looked around and smiled, and then leaned forward to kiss me one more time before I could pull away. "I don't care who is watching us, do you?"

"Um, no?" I sat back and laughed. "I don't know. Maybe?" I shrugged, feeling shy under the scrutiny of the other customers. "It's just new."

"That can be good."

"It is good," I said and leaned back further, just out of reach.

"But? Too much of a good thing and all that? Pshaw." He waved his hand through the air. "Sometimes it is just a good thing, and you should try to enjoy it while it lasts."

"As in shut up and be happy?" I shook my head. "I will. Just let me get used to it first." It was Tuesday. If I wanted to enjoy our time together before Friday, 'getting used to it' would have to be done by Wednesday—or tonight. Yes, that would be best.

"Why don't we go for supper instead of the arcade?"

"It's not something you haven't done before, though." I sounded whiny but didn't care. Tonight needed to be special. It had to be something for him to remember me by. Showing him something he'd never done before was the only thing I could think of, and now that I had, I wasn't about to change my mind.

"Sure, it is. I've never had dinner with you before." David took my hand and rubbed circles against my palm. He looked from my palm to my face, a slow smile turning his lips upward. "Just say yes, Alyssa, and let me make the plans for tonight."

I pulled my hand away, too close to succumbing to him. "No way. Tonight is the arcade. Tomorrow can be your supper if you want. I want to stop by Tina's tomorrow after school, so it's perfect." I set my napkin down and stood. "Let's go or we'll be late for fourth period."

"Fine," he whispered in my ear.

His hand fell to the small of my back as we stopped to pay and then exited the restaurant. He nudged me in front of him and didn't drop his hand until we stood side-by-side on the sidewalk in front of the door. Even then, he only let go so that he could take my hand while we walked back to school.

"We'll go to the arcade tonight, but tomorrow we are going for supper. Deal?"

"What about bowling tomorrow?" I smiled, and he nudged me with his hip. "Kidding. Supper tomorrow is good for me." I hopped in the air, trying to gain some happiness back into my step. "And then we can go bowling."

"Deal." He paused. "Not the bowling part, though."

I nodded. "Deal."

Like I was going to disagree while he was touching me? Right. So not going to happen. If he'd asked me to ditch the arcade one more time right now, we'd be going for supper tonight instead.

THIRTY-FOUR

"Aly?"

I looked up from the sink in the girls' washroom. Suzie walked up from behind so that I could see her reflection next to my own in the mirror. Somehow, it made me feel superior like she was beneath making me turn around. So long as I didn't, I would keep the upper hand. Why was she trying to talk to me again? Hadn't I made my point clear?

"What do you want, Suzie?" Turning off the tap, I reached for a sheet of paper towel to dry my hands. It forced me to stand sideways, but I kept my head down so that she couldn't make eye contact.

"I'm supposed to tell you—"

"What? That you are annoying?" I laughed. "I got that memo already, but thanks."

"No, I—"

"Should leave me alone?"

"Would you stop cutting me off?" She placed her hands on her hips, the timid attitude she'd arrived with succumbing to anger. "I'm sorry about what I said last year, okay?"

"That doesn't say much when you continued to bully everyone all year. Including me."

"Okay, so I've been a bitch. I admit it. I'm sorry." She reached out in front of her, opening her palms to spread her fingers towards me. Then she dropped her arms to her sides and sighed, her shoulders slumping. "But that's not what I came to talk to you about."

"No?" I looked up and met her gaze. A crooked grin turned my lips up. Hearing her bag on herself was almost worth the annoyance of her presence. "Then what do you want? I have to get to fifth period, so if you have something to say, hurry up."

She bit her lip and glanced at the door. She looked back to me and said, "Mrs. Haun asked me to find you."

My smile disappeared. The pleasure of hearing her regret evaporated, replaced by uneasiness. "Why?"

"How should I know?"

"Okay, well what did she tell you to do once you found me?" I waved my hand in circles in front of me, trying to coax her along. "Or is she trying to play matchmaker? I gotta say, that's not my thing. I'm all about boys."

"Ew." She shuddered. "Why would you even say that?"

I shrugged.

"Mrs. Haun wants you to come to the office," she said and shifted her weight. "She said not to worry about class and come right away."

"Why?"

"How should I know? Geez." She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, pausing at the door to call over her shoulder, "You used to be nicer."

I looked her over from head-to-toe and then shrugged, raising my eyes to meet her gaze. "You used to be better, too. I guess that means we're both disappointed, hmm?"

"Whatever."

She pulled the door open and walked away. Her Cool Water perfume, a trademark she'd incorporated since grade eight, faded in her absence. The silence felt suffocating once I was alone. I turned and stared at my reflection, scrutinizing. Why would Mrs. Haun want to see me? Had I made the wrong choice again? What if they knew about Tina and asked me to confirm?

Bending at the waist, I picked up my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder. Then, with a deep breath for fortitude, I followed Suzie's path into the hallway. I didn't stop to say hi or wave to anyone, and I didn't go to my locker. Instead, I kept my eyes forward, resolved and emotionless as I weaved in and out of groups of students on their way to the final class of the day.

*****

"Have a seat, Aly," Mrs. Haun said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk as she smoothed the back of her dress before sitting.

Bookcases sat floor-to-ceiling behind her and a filing cabinet was placed on either side of her desk, which was centered in front of the back wall. Two chairs were placed in front of the desk across from her for visitors, and magazine racks filled with pamphlets had been stationed on either side of the door, like students who were in trouble or having problems would be able to utilize the support as they left. It was preachy, but the neutral tones in the room—brown, white and green—extended a sense of comfort.

"Why am I here?" I dropped my bag to the floor and sat. "Did I do something wrong?"

All the way to the office I thought about what Mrs. Haun could want and came up with two possibilities: Mr. Tinsley or Tina. The only way to find out what she wanted was to be as direct as possible without letting what I knew come out into the open. I didn't get the chance to eavesdrop when I arrived. Instead of having to wait, I was bumped to the front of the line of students and ushered in to speak with Mrs. Haun.

"Not that I know of," she said and smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. She folded her hands on the top of her desk and studied me. "Do you know what happened with Mr. Tinsley?"

I hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Yes." She hadn't asked what I knew, so if she got specific, I was free to form a denial. "Everyone in Health knows about the movies he made us watch."

"I'm not talking about the movies."

"No?"

"What do you know about Mr. Tinsley, Alyssa?"

"That he's a creep?"

She shook her head. "I think you know that isn't what I mean. The school has security cameras. They are only in the halls and office, but... I'm sure you understand what I'm telling you."

Damn. I swallowed. "What do you want me to say?"

Looking down, I twirled my fingers together in my lap. They might know who left the letter and supporting documentation regarding Mr. Tinsley's fraudulent identities, but they couldn't force me to talk. I wouldn't betray Tina. And if any of them wanted to point figures about who 'should've' done what, she'd already said it: the cameras were only in the office and hallways. Like a vandalized locker was more important than what a teacher might do behind closed doors.

"How did you learn about Mr. Tinsley?"

"As I said, he's a creep." I looked back up, displaying zero emotion as I added, "I didn't trust him, you know? Call it a spider-sense or whatever, but I looked into him. Actually, I'm kind of surprised you didn't. It seemed so obvious."

"So why did you sneak around instead of reporting him?"

"You're kidding, right?" I laughed. "Why would I put myself in the position to be hated by other students for doing your job?"

"You wouldn't—"

I leaned forward and picked up my bag, and then stood. Mrs. Haun cut herself off as I looked down. "I'm going now, okay? If you feel like chatting again, feel free to ask my parents to join us, but the how's and why's of what I did won't be revealed. You can waste your time or accept it. That's your choice."

"What did you think would happen?" she asked. She stood, resting her weight on the top of the desk with her knuckles. "Mr. Tinsley has been charged, Alyssa. What he did was a crime."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Okay." She nodded, taking a deep breath. She looked up from the desk and made eye contact, sending a chill down my spine. "Your involvement has been divulged to the police during their preliminary investigation. They have compiled a lot of evidence against Mr. Tinsley with photographs of girls and documents which prove his use of aliases, but none of that is stronger than a witness's testimony. If you are asked to testify, you won't have the choice to say no comment. They will subpoena you and you will be sworn to tell the truth under oath."

"Well," I said, licking my lips, "if that happens, I will deal with it. Unless it does, I'm going to go out on a limb and trust you not to say anything about me since I did what I did anonymously. I don't want anyone knowing."

"I wouldn't do that."

I held her gaze for another moment and then nodded. Could I trust her? Maybe. It wasn't like I was relying on her to protect me or find out something wrong was happening under her nose. At the very least, she should be able to keep quiet for another three days. After that, it might not matter.

"Alyssa?" She called when I reached the door.

I turned around but didn't speak.

"If the reason you won't say anything is that he hurt you, I can help. You know that, right?" she asked. "There's support available, should you need it, and I am always free to listen."

Wow. Maybe she wasn't as bad as I thought. Did she care or was it guilt? I couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. I wasn't the one she should be offering a shoulder to lean on, Tina was. But then, Tina was the only one who could tell her that.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Haun, but thank you. Mr. Tinsley never hurt me. If he had tried to touch me, no jail in the world would keep him safe from my father."

"Good, good." She sighed and sat back down. "Do you know of anyone else—?"

"If I did, I would respect that it was their choice to tell, not mine," I said before she could finish. I turned around again but hesitated with my hand on the door's handle. Looking back without turning, I asked, "Have you heard about the attacks that have been happening?"

"Who hasn't?"

"Uh, have you heard whether the police have a suspect yet?" I held my breath, hoping she would say yes. The police not only had a suspect, but the ones responsible were currently being detained.

"No, I haven't heard anything like that." She folded her hands on the top of her desk again, a pen pointing up to the ceiling from between her fingers. She narrowed her eyes and asked, "Do you?"

I shook my head. "No."

Should I say something? Yes. If I wanted to live out the rest of the week with a clear conscience, there wasn't any other choice.

I took a deep breath and said, "But maybe you could talk to the detectives you're in contact with because of what's going on with Mr. Tinsley? Uh, you could tell them to look at Elixir High School. I think... the attackers are students there."

"What—"

"Just tell them? They're looking for a boy named Josh."

I held my breath and opened the door, rushing out into the outer office, and then the hallway. My feet pounded with my retreat. I didn't slow until I rounded two corners. Then, gasping to catch my breath and slow the beat of my heart echoing in my ears, I leaned against the wall and stared at the fluorescent lights burning from the ceiling.

My anxiety took five minutes to disappear, but once it did, I smiled.

Coming clean felt good.

I pushed away from the wall, eager to meet David and start living the way I should have been doing all along.

THIRTY-FIVE

The Brothers

In The Void

The First took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles against the door made of golden thread twined together in swirls of protective designs, ancient and powerful. If he hadn't known where to look for the Sisters in the Void, a place made of darkness and magic, he would have never found their home through the protective barrier the designs erected. But when he'd answered his brother's question, the truth had lain in his intentions. He had been planning this visit even though he wasn't expected.

The Sisters hated spontaneity, anything that they couldn't foresee, which ultimately meant that they hated him, and the rest of his kind, on principle. It couldn't be helped. He knew that fate wasn't determined by the actions you make, but weaved at conception, and firmly decided by the time of birth. Your lifeline was spun, your gifts bestowed, the end pre-cut by golden shears. You can fight it—free will and all—and some do. But if a person chooses to fight fate, happy endings were in short supply—challenging fate never ended well for those involved. The Sisters weren't a presence unless they felt slighted, and resisting was a slight to the very reason they existed.

The First wanted to know what happened to someone who defied fate while they were a part of a bigger picture. Even more importantly, what was the bigger picture?

The door swung open to reveal one of the Sisters appraising him with a critical eye. "Why are you here?"

The voice echoed throughout the cavernous room and his mouth dropped open as the other two sisters stepped out on either side of the first, almost as though they'd been merged as one. All three were identical, individualized only by the colored streaks in their white, waist-length hair: red, blue, and black, like death. Each wore identical custom dresses of layered gauze and silk colored to match the streaks in their hair.

"We have a shared interest, I believe."

"You have your instructions," the sister with black streaks in her hair—Atropos, he knew by the shears in her hand—said.

He stuck his foot in the doorway so they couldn't shut him out. Not many could find the Sisters' home and none who could would be able to force an entry. They either let you in or shut you out.

"Unless I get some answers, I am pulling my brother out and away from the girl," he said without inflection.

It was better than using a secret password.

The door swung wide open and the sister with blue streaks in her hair stepped forward. She pushed her head through the door and looked right and left, up and then down. Then she fixed a withering glare on him.

"Clotho?" the sister with red in her hair called without looking away from him.

"He's alone."

"Lachesis." The First nodded out of respect to the Sister with red streaks as they ushered him inside the room seemingly spun of gold, the only exception a single wooden table with three chairs, one for each sister.

A circular staircase split the room in its center like licorice twisting into the sky, a blue glow shining out from the bottom. The top climbed too high to see where it led, and he didn't have the guts to ask. Did Goddesses sleep?

Everything glinted with gold—the faucets, the furniture, the hearth that followed Lachesis when she moved. All but the table and, when he squinted hard enough, the pots and pans. They weren't gold but a kaleidoscopic of clear, nearly invisible glints of light that could only be seen from the outlines they formed against the golden, lacquered walls.

He looked around for another place to sit.

"A Guardian such as yourself can surely handle standing, don't you think?" Atropos cooed, bringing her shears up for inspection and admiring her reflection in their blades. "Especially since unannounced visitors are so hard to plan for."

"You think me a Guardian?" He chuckled. "I guess we all have our secret duties."

Lachesis cocked her head to the side and studied him. Of the three she was the most rational, and if either party wanted answers, he knew she was who he had to speak with. "So who are you if not a Guardian?"

"I'm one of the ones who tell the Guardians what to do, but in favor of simplicity, you may call me Brother."

"He's cute." Clotho looked him over from head-to-toe as though she'd never seen a member of the opposite sex before.

"Not your type, Sister." Atropos smiled into her reflection. "He's too important for airheads."

"You little—"

"What?" Atropos twisted to face Clotho as if daring her to finish her sentence.

"Why don't you girls go work for a while so that we don't fall further behind? I will speak with the Brother." Lachesis took a moment to glare at Atropos and Clotho and then smiled at the First Brother. She pointed to a chair. "Please, have a seat."

"Tell me what you know about the girl, Lachesis. Why is she getting such special treatment?" the First asked while Atropos and Clotho flitted through the golden door without handles at the back of the room, still bickering and blaming each other for being booted.

"I can't tell you what you want to know, Brother. The situation is too precarious, fragile. If she found out—"

"I do not speak out of turn," he said in a low voice, offended.

She cocked her head again and scrutinized him before nodding. "Maybe you do not, but you can't speak on another's behalf. I believe one of you has already said too much, which is why we sent her back ourselves."

He sighed. "This is why I want you to give me a reason not to pull my brother out. He cares for her, and he is dangerously close to forfeiting his right to remain as one of us. He's hanging on the edge of falling." He leaned forward and said, "And that isn't a metaphor."

"It happens," she said, thrumming her nails on the table. "Maybe you should let it happen."

"I don't think you understand what I'm telling you, Lachesis. If he topples off that ledge, there's no coming back from it."

"My first concern is for the girl. Their feelings for one another are more beneficial than you can know right now, and you must not try to stop them from letting those emotions develop."

"Why?"

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Have you met her?" He nodded. "Didn't you notice something different about her appearance?"

"I'd have to be blind not to notice the goodness radiating from the girl."

She smiled. "Purity."

"Excuse me?"

"It isn't good that shines, not like that." She sat back again and resumed tapping her nails on the table while waving the other hand through the air. "She is a Pure Soul. Completely—there isn't a smidge of corruption within her. No malice, no selfishness, no hate. She cannot stop dying because she does not know how to stop saving others in order to place herself first. She just can't do it. It's like nothing I've ever seen before."

"I've seen pure souls."

"No, you have seen souls with purity—they do not have a pure soul." She twitched her nose and squinted, wiggling her finger in the air between them. "There's a difference. This girl is made of it. She is one hundred percent pure."

"My brothers and I are pure."

"Ah, but you aren't human." She pursed her lips and dropped her hand. "Again, there is a big difference."

"So tell me what it means for her to be so pure."

"It means that there is an unlimited amount of good that she can accomplish if she can just make it to her eighteenth birthday. Everything she experiences now will help her, but if she learns of any of this, what she's done won't count. Trust me. I've seen it."

"What happens when she turns eighteen?"

"That I can't tell you, I'm sorry. If you look to her family lineage, you'll find the answer for yourself." She sighed. "As for the bigger picture, you cannot know. Not yet. Your Brother must stay with the girl. He evokes feelings in her that only he can bring out—happiness, confusion, devastation, and eventually... Well, we all want that to happen. Trust me."

"Can't somebody else fill in? Take his place? There are lesser beings—"

"No." She smiled, and a mischievous spark lit within her ancient, aqua-lined eyes that may have been blue, but were too foggy to discern. There was so much he knew she omitted, but there was no way of coaxing an admission from her. "She'd sense the change. Again, I've seen that too. Only he will be able to guide her through to the outcome that's needed."

"Are they soul mates or something?"

"Or something."

"Lachesis, just tell me what's going on. I can be trusted to keep silent."

"I cannot tell you any more than you already know." She stood and walked to the staircase with the blue light shining through from the bottom. "I'm sure you can find your way out."

"He's my brother, Lachesis. Can't you understand wanting to protect your family?" He rose from his chair, his presence overwhelming as he rose over her petite, almost frail frame. But their size held no indication of their powers, both insurmountable in their own regard, and she regarded him, unfazed.

"Of course, I can, but like I'm sure you can sympathize, my duties are far too important to compromise their integrity. If anything changes that I can share, I will call for you."

"How did you request my brother if you did not know we weren't Guardians?"

He watched, silent as Lachesis winked and left him to let himself out of her home. Of course, she knew he would never defy Him and ruin the plan set in motion for the girl—he was far too obedient. Just like she probably knew he wasn't a Guardian from the start. Unlike angels, the Sisters had nothing to keep them from not speaking the truth.

He felt like progress had been made but remained apprehensive. His brother was in too deep and he couldn't help him. The girl, he knew, was going to turn the world he loved upside down, and he wasn't convinced it was going to be for the better. After all, the mightier you are, the harder you fall.

His brother had a long way to fall if that was what came to pass.

THIRTY-SIX

I leaned on the hood of my car, using my elbows for support, and watched the main doors to the school. It seemed like every student had managed to find their way into the bright sunny day once the final bell rang, except for David. Despite what he said, he was still getting lost inside the halls, and if I didn't stay within viewing distance, he probably wouldn't find me.

My tan was going to rival his if he didn't hurry.

"Hey."

A yelp escaped my lips, quick but sharp. I looked right and left, and then jumped, twisting in the same motion to confront who pinched my waist from behind. David's eyes crinkled with laughter as I glared. He dodged as I tried to swat him, and my hand swiped through the air.

"Dude, seriously? My parents would totally ground me again if you end up giving me a freaking heart attack! Where were you?"

His face split into a smile and my heart began to flutter. I dropped my hands. Rain, sun, snow... I bet he looked decent framed by anything. Maybe he had pictures? Like a scrapbook or something that parents kept so they can embarrass their teenagers whenever they begin dating someone new.

"I wasn't lost this time. At least, not inside the school." He laughed as I rolled my eyes and raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward to draw a wide make-believe circle in the air between us with his finger to imitate circling the school. "I left through the side door and wound up having to lap the building before finding the parking lot."

"I hate you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Go back inside so I can strand you here."

"How about I go back inside so I can sneak up on you again? That bottom lip you're pouting with can getter bigger, I think. It's cute." He reached out to tap it and I knocked his hand away, but it was impossible not to smile.

"It's not cute." I folded my arms and bit my lip between my teeth, which made my brow furrow.

David laid his arm across my shoulders and looked down into my face. "I'm sorry for scaring you—sort of." He nudged me towards the car but had to try three times before I allowed my feet to move. "Can we go eat now?"

"We're going for supper tomorrow." I shook my head, slapped my palm against his flat stomach, and stepped away to open my door. "Get in. The arcade sells food if you're hungry."

"Really? You still want to go to the arcade?" He got in on the passenger side and smiled too brightly, looking up under hooded eyes as he buckled his seatbelt. "How can I change your mind?"

"Hmm." I pinched my lips together. "Sorry, but you can't." I looked forward and tried to concentrate on driving, and said with more determination than I felt, "We are going to the arcade."

He didn't say anything as I pulled into the line of vehicles waiting to leave school. I hated the traffic. It always amazed me that cars weren't wrapped around one another during the lunch and after school gong show. The gray pavement of our parking lot was so riddled with skid marks from the idiot boys pulling donuts, it was a miracle there'd never been an accident, not even a fender-bender. The only real mishap was when Mr. Tinsley shot me, and that didn't count—it hadn't even happened.

Besides, murder wasn't an accident.

"So." David turned in his seat to look at me, a half-smile playing on his lips, just as the line of cars in front of us began to move. "Which arcade are you taking me to? I looked them up this afternoon and we have two to choose from."

Who prepares to go to an arcade? Trying to keep my laughter from my voice, I said, "We are going to Tucker's. Freak Out is outdated and too full of kids." I shuddered at the thought of sharing my time with David with a bunch of five-year-old cretins. "You'll like it at Tucker's."

"I'll trust your judgment."

It took ten minutes to get out of the parking lot, but only five to drive to the arcade. We didn't talk. My body hummed with his presence, and if we had spoken, I doubt I'd have been able to concentrate on driving at all. He filled the car—his smell, his body, and his gorgeous, I-can-see-you-for-who-you-really-are stare. Anticipation for the night to come came at me from every side, and I was completely lost to him.

It scared the crap out of me.

It excited me.

I pulled into the over-crowded parking lot of the arcade and jumped out of the car, scared of not escaping such close quarters before I embarrassed myself by doing something stupid—such as drooling. Yep. Drooling would make me look cool. That was if I wanted him to cut the night short.

"So, show me what I've been missing."

He rounded the car to stand at my side, fixing his eyes on the building in front of us. It didn't look like an arcade. The building, which was really just a warehouse, was nondescript gray brick. The sign was neon graffiti spray-painted to say 'Tucker's' on top of a skull with its eyes hanging out of its sockets and lights spotlighting it from below.

"Okay, this-this totally isn't what it's like inside," I said, pointing to the makeshift sign. "Come on. Let's go. I promise you'll like it."

"And if I don't?"

"Then... I don't know." I shrugged and looked at him, a sideways smile lifting my lips. "You can take me to supper at the food court in the mall tomorrow as payback. Just, try to have fun before shooting it down, okay?"

He tugged on my hand and slowed his pace until we both came to a stop. "I will always have fun with you, Alyssa, no matter where you might take me." Pulling me into his side so that his arm circled my waist, he looked up to the sign, made a face, and added, "Even if it's to an arcade. Besides, there's gotta be a lot of dark corners that will be fun to check out here, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of dark places." I shuddered.

David laughed. "Well, we'll have to change that."

*****

David pulled me aside three times in the first half hour so that we could 'explore' the abandoned corners. I wasn't ready to admit it, but dark corners beat the games hands-down. Every time we agreed to go back to paying attention to the games, I started waiting for the next time he pulled me aside, hoping that he wouldn't make me wait for long.

He never did.

But other than Deal or No Deal, the games didn't seem to hold any appeal for him. We spent fifty of our sixty game tokens on the one game, and after the first three turns, I was bored—he always won. Not just ooh, you-didn't-end-up-with-a-dollar, but the big win. Every suitcase he chose, no matter if he was down to the final two in the game, with only the lowest and highest amounts still in play, was the jackpot. I couldn't tell if he was a good strategist or if he had a freaking leprechaun hiding in his pocket.

"Come on." I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the stool once the final token had been used. I pointed through the games that were lined up on the lower level of the arcade to the steps of the dining area enclosed on all sides by walls of glass. "I grabbed the table."

"What about our prize?" He lifted the bag filled with tickets that had continued to spew out of the machine. "Isn't it customary for me to get you a stuffed animal or something?"

"At a fair, maybe. I could buy whatever this place is selling at the dollar store."

"So, you don't want a toy as a token of my awesome winnings?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Nope." I smiled.

"Fine." He nodded and looked around, then smiled. Turning, he faced the woman that was playing a game beside us alone with her little girl, who looked to only be about six-years-old. "Ma'am, would you like some extra tickets for your little girl? She should be able to get a good prize if you combine ours with yours."

The woman looked up, surprised. Her gaze shifted to me and she narrowed her eyes. "You're sure?"

"I—"

"She doesn't want anything," David said before I could tell her that it was okay, and I nodded.

The woman smiled brighter and took the bag, and David shrugged before turning back to me, acting like nothing occurred as he changed the topic back to our dinner. "Did you order yet?"

"No, but I'm hungry," I said slowly, watching him closely. "You didn't want anything? Candy? You always seem hungry."

"Nah," he said, still smiling. "That little girl looked like she deserved a new toy, don't you think?"

His arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me to the side, away from the crowd. It was so busy now, he practically had to pin me so that my back was pushed against the wall, and his body leaned in to press against mine, and all thoughts of the interaction with the little girl and her mother evaporated from my mind. How could I think when he was just... so close?

"Not that I don't appreciate this," I said, and leaned back to crane my neck to the side, "but we're going to lose our table."

David smiled and leaned in, whispering against my neck, "I'm not hungry."

"I am." I pushed on his chest. "I haven't eaten in seven hours!"

"Neither have I." His gaze narrowed on me and then he shrugged, as though he had a one-man conversation inside his head. "Let's get something to go."

I looked through the crowd and sighed as the waitress who said she'd hold our table for five minutes seated another couple at the one I'd reserved. "Why don't we just go somewhere else to eat instead?"

"Like where?"

Rolling my eyes, I flicked my wrist between us and increased the pitch of my voice. "Like, it's a surprise." I lowered my voice to normal and dropped the fake smile. "Are you game?"

He looked down and held my gaze, and then smiled and took my hand to navigate us out of Tucker's. He was so trusting, as though wherever I was going to take him didn't matter because he had faith in me. It felt good, though my decision-making skills hadn't exactly been stellar lately.

Maybe that was starting to turn around.

THIRTY-SEVEN

The breeze, chilled by the drop to evening temperature, blasted us as we stepped outside. David took a giant step in front of me and then turned so that he was walking backward, protecting me like a shield from the wind. It was a momentary gust, though, caused by the motion of the doors, and died as fast as it had risen to leave the slightest of breezes. Still, David continued walking backward through the parking lot, making funny faces and keeping me away from the wind.

When we reached my car, we were side-by-side again. David crowded me in so that my back pressed against the window, and my keys were forgotten in my hand. He put his hands on either side of my head and leaned forward until our noses met, humor in his eyes.

"Where are you taking me?" He slanted his head and without breaking eye contact and kissed me lightly on my right cheek.

I cleared my throat, too distracted to remember how to speak. "I, uh... for food."

He kissed my left cheek and I thought my knees were going to give out. I placed the palms of my hands on his chest, but still, I didn't push him away. He began trailing kisses along my jaw and I angled my head for a moment, just enough to grant him easier access.

"I want to uh... get s-something so we can... eat at the river," I said, barely managing to form a full sentence as he distracted me.

He stopped kissing me, once again touching his nose to mine, and this time our foreheads met. I could feel his breath mingle with mine and my heart skipped. This couldn't be normal. The way my body had reacted to seeing him that first time was magnified tenfold and if I didn't sit down soon, I would surely fall.

Seeming to be unaffected, David said without any hesitation, "This doesn't take the place of our supper tomorrow night."

I smiled. "I thought we could go bowling instead?"

He returned my smile and kept eye contact, and his hands dropped so his fingers tickled a path down the bare skin on my arms. My body shuddered as his hands came to rest on my hips, his thumb rubbing circles through the fabric of my t-shirt.

"No bowling."

I shook my head, my throat too dry, and my voice too shaky, to answer.

"We'll go to the river now, but we will go for supper tomorrow." He squatted down so that he could look up at me, a half smile on his face. "Agreed?"

David straightened and angled his head so that only an inch separated us. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded my acceptance.

"I need you to say it."

"Fine." I licked my lips and cleared my throat. "I agree. Supper. Tomorrow." I nodded and inched my face closer towards him. Only a half an inch away now. "Totally on your terms."

The moment the last syllable left my mouth, my hands flew from his chest to his neck and I pulled his head down until our lips met. Finally. His hands, already on my hips, circled around to my back and pulled me closer. My keys dropped with a clink to the pavement and I threaded my fingers through the mass of thick, dark hair at the top of his head.

For the next five minutes—Actually ten, but who's counting? —nothing else mattered. Everything around us dimmed until we were all that existed. Even the catcalls from smokers taking a break from gaming couldn't intrude on this moment. I didn't care how public we made it; I was creating the most private experience of my life.

The most cherished.

If I had to die again, this was the moment I wanted to press pause and freeze my life within, the instant that I realized I'd given my heart away. Now that I had this, I wouldn't be satisfied until I experienced more.

*****

"We used to come up here and feed the Canadian Geese," I said a half hour later, dangling my legs so that they swung over the side of the train bridge. "But that's better in the fall."

We'd picked up burgers and fries at Mickey D's on the way to the river, and then ate in the car, so hungry that there was no time for talking. Once the food was gone, and after a lot of begging—David was convinced 'train bridge' equated to danger—I managed to talk him into climbing up the stairs to the left of the parking lot. The river was amazing tonight, an unspoiled conclusion to a perfect date, and I wanted him to see the waterfall falling over lights that shone through its stream.

"You and Tina?" he asked, keeping his gaze forward.

"No." I shook my head. "Suzie."

"The cheerleader?"

I nodded. "We used to be best friends."

"What happened?" He looked at me and then refocused on the river, assuming nonchalance.

"Well, she became a cheerleader, and I didn't."

"But you were close?" He reached over and took my hand to twine our fingers together, keeping me from fidgeting.

"For about ten years, yeah. But our social statuses are worlds apart now," I said, and looked out over the water. "I mean, I don't hate her or anything, though I'm sure that isn't mutual. I'm happy she's found something that makes her happy, you know?"

"I think high school is a confusing place to be, but I doubt that she hates you," he said thoughtfully. "Besides, happiness is whatever you make of it."

"I think you are an optimist." I scoffed.

"Maybe." He shrugged. "What makes you happy, Alyssa?"

You make me happy, I thought, but wouldn't say. Instead, I shrugged and said, "Knowing that the people I care about are happy makes me feel good. Making sure that the people I love know how I feel about them, and that even if I don't always show them how I feel, they'll know it. If I were to die tomorrow or even, say, Friday, I would be glad that they knew how I felt."

"But what about you?" He raised his arm and kissed my hand before letting it fall between us again. "You should find something just for you that will make you happy. Otherwise, there will always be something going on in somebody else's life which will make you unhappy."

"Meh." I shrugged. "I'll manage."

He tilted his head back and laughed, and then looked at me again, but laughed again. "Do you know what a martyr is?"

"Shut up!" Laughing, I swatted him in the arm. "Then what makes you happy if you're such an expert?"

"Besides you?"

"Yeah." I nodded. I couldn't think of his answer in serious terms or I wouldn't be able to continue the conversation in understandable terms. "Your rules. What makes you happy but doesn't involve anyone else? Your 'selfish pleasure', or whatever you want to call it."

He looked confused like he'd never bothered to figure it out before.

"Come on." I nudged his shoulder with mine. "It's not supposed to be a hard question."

"Is that why you didn't answer it when I asked?" He smiled, though there was no warmth in his eyes.

"I did answer! I can't help it if you don't like, or-or agree, with my answer." I sighed and rolled my eyes. "But if it was something just for me, I'd say knowing that I'm loved makes me happy." I looked up at him. "Now spill it."

He sighed and said the last thing that I was expecting, although it seemed as though it was ripped from him against his will as he said, "Free will."

My eyes widened, and I could feel my lips part in surprise. I tried to hide my shock, though I couldn't help but ask, "Really? Why?"

"Well, you can't order it around, for one thing," he said and shrugged. "It's not something that can be sold or taken away, and it is exempt from corruption. Basically, it is freedom. Choices. Your free will allows you to choose, good or bad, and the only duty that you have to it is to always respect it. Honor it. And trust your instincts."

I didn't know what to say to that. My answer sucked in comparison. Could I change it to agree with him? I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. When I finally found my voice, vibrations began, cutting me off. The train's lights burst through the trees at the far end of the bridge, rushing towards us.

"What is that?" David looked to me with wide eyes and then nodded down to the river. "Should we jump?"

I smiled. "Don't be silly. We're on the walkway, not the tracks. Just wrap your arms around that pole—your feet, too—and hang on."

"That's crazy!" he yelled over the trembling around us.

"No, it's fun!" I screamed over the increasing rattling as the bridge shook around us. "Come on, it's this or the water, but I'm telling you that you'll only survive one. There is no way to make it down before the train arrives."

The trembling grew to earthquake intensity and my arms vibrated as if I was using a muscle massager. David wrapped his arms around the wood pole and circled his legs to hang over the side, clasped at the ankle. I tilted my head back and laughed. He was the one who talked about free will; this feeling, right now, was freedom. It shook your thoughts from inside your head and left you free from everything. No worry, no fear, no death. It just was.

"Hold on!" I screamed.

The bridge rocked and shook as the train whizzed by without hurting us, just as I promised. It felt like a rollercoaster stealing my breath away, dipping low and soaring high, and then picking up speed to circle round and leave you hanging upside down. We couldn't line up to ride it again, but the smile on David's face once the train passed suggested he wanted to.

Letting go of the posts, we fell onto our backs on the walkway, laughing until tears pooled in our eyes. His arm rested lightly on my stomach, sending electricity coursing through my body. It was comfortable and normal and easy, just as everything with him seemed to be. It felt good.

"You were right." He blew out a heavy breath towards the sky, laughing. "That was awesome." He turned his head to look at me. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

"I know, right? That'll teach you to trust me next time." I looked down at my watch and sat up, slapping my hands down to my sides against the wooden walkway. "Oh, crap, we have to go!"

"Why?" He blinked at me, startled. "You were right. That was fun. Let's wait for another one."

I pulled myself to my feet and turned, holding out my hand to help him up.

"I know, and that sounds like a lot of fun, but I was supposed to be home five minutes ago. We gotta go. Even if we book it, there's a very real possibility that I'm going to be too grounded to go for supper tomorrow."

"Oh." He scrambled up, ignoring my hand. Nodding towards the stairs and the parking lot below, empty but for my car, he said, "Then we better hurry so you don't break our deal."

We raced back to the car with hearts still in overdrive from the excitement of the train. The idea of supper with David pushed me to run as fast as my legs would allow, and I stumbled. He stopped and hoisted me to my feet with his arm wrapped around my waist, and even though I didn't need help again, his arm stayed in place until we reached the car.

Nothing would be worse after a night like this than getting grounded, but when I got home, the house was empty. According to our answering machine, my parents were at some PTA thing that ran late. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have rushed to leave David, but the long soak in the tub relaxed the nerves that were tied into knots.

Now that I had David, it felt so unfair that I might die.

Why let me feel anything at all if it wouldn't last?

THIRTY-EIGHT

The Brothers

The Mortal Realm

Walking away from Alyssa after our date was challenging. Each step I took down the path brought me farther from her home, and away from the bedroom window that I was tempted to climb through, just to talk or even watch her sleep. I missed a meeting with the Brothers tonight to be with her, but duties seemed so trivial now.

How could I think of duty when my lips tingled with the fresh memory of the pureness I found in her kisses?

I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, and I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without falling—it was all I could do not to turn back, rush to her side, and envelop her in my arms. What would it be like, not to have to leave or say goodbye? To have more than a week—or five days, as the case was—to love someone? Humans did it all the time. They were free to do it: fall in love, get married, have kids. Even when it ended in divorce, the beginning was always grand, full of love and adventure and the I-don't-ever-want-to-leave-you sensation overwhelming me now.

"Can you still deny that you are getting too close to the girl?"

My stride faltered, and I sighed, my breath blowing out as a cloud in the air. The First Brother stepped out of the darkness concealing him, a small passage between two houses that provided the perfect vantage point of Alyssa's front porch. I stopped walking and faced him, not willing to hide—there was no point now. He knew the line had been crossed, just as I knew had been inevitable.

For a moment, foolish as it was, I thought I might have more time to enjoy what I had accepted to be my own failure. Just a few days longer was all I wanted, just long enough to keep her safe. After thousands of years fulfilling orders only He understood, obeying without questioning, it didn't seem like too much to ask. Humans were always in love—it was a part of who they were.

But it was too much to ask for one of our kind.

"Brother?"

Looking up from his feet, I saw he wasn't wearing his robe, but a pair of light khakis and a polo shirt with a navy dinner jacket. Tilting my head to study him, I couldn't help but wonder whose duties had required the change: his or mine. Was I special now? Or was I an afterthought?

I met his gaze and shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and shook his head, an impolite snort escaping into the silence of the night. I held my breath and waited for his condemnation, likely to be the last words we would speak to one another. My kind was too unforgiving, even more so of each other than humans, for it to be any other way. You had one chance to do what was right, and if you made a mistake, you didn't get another—it was over.

"Do not say anything to implicate yourself, Brother," he said and looked up to the moonless sky. "I'm quite certain what I saw was... a trick of the light."

A pass?

Why? I bit my tongue between my teeth to keep from doing exactly what he said not to. I knew, even without the confirming scowl on his face, how hard the words had been for him to say, let alone mean. The Brother of Judgement didn't show mercy—I'd worked side-by-side with him too long to forget that.

Yet that was exactly what he was doing.

I studied him, puzzled, watching him as intently as he watched me. This isn't a choice he made for himself. The only thing that he'd sacrifice his beliefs for—an order he felt obliged to obey—had swayed his infamous resolve for justice. The Sisters? Him? Voicing my questions out loud would undoubtedly shatter the pretense he wished to keep. I was the first to look away, too afraid he'd read the guilt and see through to the truth I wanted—needed—to keep for myself: I loved the girl. Alyssa. And my kind couldn't lie.

Love of a human would mean banishment to the Lake of Fire if we didn't fall first. Exiled to live an eternal existence at the bottommost level of Hell, waiting for judgment that would never arrive, no matter how much it was desired. In fact, the more it was craved, the better the punishment became. In a word, torture.

"Why are you here?" Gazing at the ground to watch the pebbles my boots scattered from their resting place, there was so much more I wanted to say, to confess. Of all the Brothers, we had always been the closest. We were the eldest.

"I've just come from the Sisters."

"You went to them?" I gasped, forgetting in my surprise that I'd meant to hold back. "Nobody goes to them, Brother, not even Him. They come to you. How did you find them?" Clearing my throat, I shook my head and tried to regulate the speed of my voice. "How was it?"

"Enlightening." He looked away, guarded.

I gulped, the silence becoming profound between us. That which we avoided grafted a chasm between us more firmly than words. "You can't tell me, can you?"

"It's not—no. I'm afraid that I can't do that." He looked back at me, somber. "Anything that girl learns may negate all that has been done."

"That's not cryptic at all." I rolled my eyes, the sarcasm a characteristic of the teenagers I'd been surrounded by. Before my recent integration, I never would have considered speaking in such a way, but now... Well, sometimes I found it fitting.

A shadow of a smile splayed across his lips. "This week, you won't be judged. His back will be turned to your actions, as will mine."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "She's important enough, I guess."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" I scratched the back of my head and watched an array of indecision cross over his face.

"She has to be reminded of her death," he said a few minutes later. "Take her to the place where it started, Brother, so that she can recall what's happened and what her past decisions have led to."

"You can't be serious." My hands dropped to my sides and I felt like my stomach had plunged out from under me. "That's cruel. Why would you even suggest that to me?"

"Because it needs to be done."

"How do I do this? It's not like I can tell her who I am. Besides the crazy, she'll never have anything to do with me again." Hunching my shoulders and narrowing my eyes, I knew he was enjoying this, making me squirm. The First didn't want her to hurt—none of us would—but he enjoyed the effect what was being asked had on me.

"You're concerned with how she'll see you?" The First raised his eyebrow, a hint of humor in his eyes as he watched me.

"I'm concerned that I won't be able to help her with what I was sent here to accomplish." I rolled my head to relieve the tension in my neck. I don't want to be the source of her pain.

"So, you haven't forgotten your duties."

"I'm going to choose not to say anything 'incriminating' and ask what is needed instead."

"Just make sure that she sees where it all began." He stepped back into the shadows, calling over his shoulder, "It's vital to her final choices, Brother. There will be no more chances."

"Then I will need a car!" I yelled after him.

The First paused, looking upward. After a minute he glanced back and held my gaze, and slowly nodded. "Very well. I'll arrange it for you."

"By tomorrow?"

"Yes." He nodded and then turned back. "Just do as you're told, Brother. Make sure you take her back to the woods."

I watched him until he was gone, and then twirled in a circle, my hair fisted in my hands. There would be no judgment or damnation for my actions. I just had to force the one person who had ever made me think for myself to relive what was probably the most hurtful experience she'd ever known.

I'd rather endure the Lake of Fire.

THIRTY-NINE

Alyssa

Tina paused her pacing to look at me, twisting a shirt in her hands. "Is he a good kisser?"

"Is grass green?" I rolled over onto my stomach on Tina's bed and smiled, fingering my lips at the memory of kissing David. "He's awesome. Seriously, like, indescribable." I sighed.

Tina rolled her eyes upwards but smiled, and then returned to pacing back and forth through her room as she packed in preparation for her move. Watching her, I realized that it didn't matter what I tried—there was no winning formula for helping her. Now that she was safe from Mr. Tinsley, I thought everything would be better, but no. Saving her meant losing her, and she seemed eager to leave.

Tina must have started packing as soon as she agreed to go. The room was already sparse, barely recognizable as she filled the boxes placed across the floor and dressers.

We'd been in her bedroom for almost forty-five minutes, and not once since my arrival had she paused to just talk. While she packed the drawers from the dresser in her closet, we talked about her new school, and then we talked about Mr. Tinsley—if that was his real name—while she packed her stuffed animals, which seemed to be an endless supply. Still, she never told me the truth about what he did. Now, as we talked about David and the fact that I was no longer grounded, she alternated between packing her clothes, organizing her make-up, and filling a small bag of essentials she'd need before unpacking when they arrived at wherever the hell it was they were going.

"I can't believe how fast this happened," she said.

"What? You moving? It's pretty crazy." I sighed.

I didn't want to feel sad, but if death wasn't my end, I would really miss her. Again, that was if I managed to somehow survive—there were serious doubts floating in my head about the possibility. No matter how many times it happened, or how many ways Death came, it would always come as a surprise.

She paused for a moment to look at me, then continued to pack. "I meant with you and David. I've been gone what? Two days?"

"It's been three days, actually." Three days this time, but whatever was between us had been building for weeks.

At least for me, silently.

Tina threw scarves into a box, paused as though she was counting in her head, and then sat down beside me on the bed to take her first break. She pulled her legs under her and held my gaze, her eyes narrowing. "You really like him?"

"That's... Yeah. I do."

Smiling, I rolled onto my side and started to finger the threading of her bedspread. Last night had been amazing. I loved watching him experience things for the first time, even though he spent more time making me wish we were alone than playing games. The darkened corners of arcades would never look the same to me, though, and the bridge... Well, on the list the of top one hundred things I'd been able to do so far, that was pretty much number one.

Could he top it?

I hoped so.

Sighing, I flopped onto my back. "It's like I've known him longer than I have, and I can't explain it. My body tingles when he's close, you know?" I waved my hand and then pulled myself up to sitting. Dropping my hands into my lap, I took a deep breath, and added, "It's too much too soon, I know, but I don't care." I looked up to find her watching me with a small smile. "Am I crazy?"

Tina pinched her lips together and nodded. "Yes."

I leaned back and groaned. "Tell me what you really think."

She laughed and nudged my leg, urging me to look back to her. "I'm glad that he makes you feel like this, and no, you are not crazy. You're happy, which is never too soon." She patted my hand and got back up to pack. "I'm glad that you'll have him after I move."

I nodded. It wasn't the response I'd expected—so much less. I wanted to go back to the days where we squealed for freaking ice-cream, but after all that she'd been through with her parents and Mr. Tinsley, and everything I'd been through with dying, it was never going to happen. I knew that. But still, I wished I didn't. It would be a lot more fun to pretend.

"So, why did you decide to move?" I asked as I watched her. "It's so sudden, and you don't even know anyone there, do you?"

"Uh." She cleared her throat, busying herself with filling another box, and refused to meet my gaze. "No, I don't know anyone. But if I don't go, my dad will be all alone. My mom has Des and her friends and works here, you know? I'll miss them both like crazy. Even Des, despite the fact that she drives me insane most of the time. But at least they won't be alone."

"What about you? You have friends here." Like me.

"We'll email, Aly. Besides, with Facebook, nobody can keep their lives secret anymore. I promise I'll update my status like every hour, except for when I'm sleeping. Okay? I'll visit, and we'll be starting college soon. We could even go to the same college or at least somewhere close to one another." She shrugged and folded a pair of jeans to add to her bag of essentials. "I just... I want to go, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I get it." Liar. Looking at my watch, I slowly got up from the bed. "I gotta go. David is picking me up for supper in an hour and I still need to grab a shower."

"It sounds very domesticated."

Thinking of his kisses made me blush. No, it wasn't domesticated, not unless she meant it was hot as hell. "It's just new." I smiled and looked down to the floor.

"Well, I'm glad you'll have someone after I move, though I'm still going to miss you." She pulled me into a hug and sniffed loudly. "You better go home, though, and have that shower if you expect him to stay with you."

She dodged as I tried to smack her arm. "I'll miss you too." Pulling her back into an even tighter hug, the clock ticked loudly to remind me of the limitations of time. "Why don't we hang out tomorrow night before you leave?"

"I promised to have supper with my mom, but we can hang before that. Why don't you come over after school?" She let go and stepped back. "I'd like to see you again before I have to go."

"It's a date." I smiled and hugged her one last time.

I wanted to be the friend that crammed in as much time with her as possible before she moved, but it was sad here. For once, remembering my self-promise about letting go of my inhibitions, I steeled myself to accept the good within all this terribleness: I had a date with the hottest, the most interesting, and completely amazing guy to get ready for.

Tomorrow I could cry.

*****

After leaving Tina's, I had a half hour to get ready before David was supposed to pick me up for supper.

I wasn't ready to admit to my parents that it was a date, though I wanted to shout it out to everyone else. For all they knew, David was picking me up so that we could meet up with other people. They suspected, I'm sure, but if thinking it was a group outing would keep my dad from pulling out his guns and 'talking' to David, I was on board with the deception. For now. It wasn't like I was dishonest, but they drew their own conclusions. The truth would be revealed if things worked out, but I was playing it by ear, holding out to make sure I knew I would still be alive come Saturday.

Running through the front door without looking up, I yelled, "Hi Mom, hi Dad," and hustled into my bedroom, dropping my schoolbag onto my bed before rushing across the hall into the bathroom with a change of clothes in my hands. Within two minutes of entering the house, I was in the shower, and ten minutes later I was dressed—in a dress! –with my make-up complete. All that was left was to blow-dry the tangled mass of knots hanging down my back.

Then the doorbell rang—twenty minutes early.

I grabbed a ponytail holder from the bathroom counter and ran to the living room with the hope of beating my parents there and, more importantly, being the first to greet David. My dad was just reaching for the doorknob as I bolted into the room. He looked up as I entered, which gave me just enough of an advantage to take him by surprise.

I wedged myself between him and the door, leaning back with a sigh of relief, slightly out of breath. "I got it, Dad."

"Who is it?" My dad looked stern, like the guns he had always threatened to greet my first boyfriend with were already waiting in his back pocket for 'share time'.

"Just a friend," I huffed.

"Who?"

"David, the uh, new guy. Remember? I told you guys about him already." I pulled my hair up into a high bun, grateful for the excuse not to have to look him the eyes, and I hoped that the tangles in my hair would provide the kind of messy look that made girls in magazines look sophisticated.

"I thought this was a group thing?"

"Joe," my mother said, appearing at the door leading into the living room from the kitchen. She leaned against the wall with a dish towel in her hands and humor in her eyes. "Let her go without embarrassing her."

Arching my eyebrows at him, I smiled brightly, and he scowled with submission. Thank you, Mom!

Waiting until she managed to clear him from the living room and into the kitchen, I sighed, and cast my eyes to the ceiling as my body turned around. My eyes widened as soon as I opened the door while my jaw dropped. A whoosh of air escaped between my teeth, keeping me from saying hello. He was so much hotter than the black t-shirt he wore when we met gave him credit for.

"You ready?" He smiled, pushing his hair back with his hand. The white shirt he wore under the black bomber jacket wrinkled and then stretched against his muscles.

Wow.

Summer hadn't even started, and he looked like he lived on a surfboard with that tan.

I nodded and looked over my shoulder to make sure my dad wasn't watching, or—kill me now— following, before closing the door behind us. "I'm ready."

He smiled again and reached for me, guiding me with a light touch at the small of my back to the passenger door of his car, a late model Honda Civic parked at the curb. A slight breeze blew up from behind us as he opened the door for me and a waft of his scent floated over me. An involuntary shiver of anticipation ran through my body. The wind died before he rounded the vehicle.

After a few minutes, once I noticed that we were passing all the restaurants downtown, I turned in my seat to look at David. "Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise."

He slowed the car and pulled into the school parking lot near the back of the building. My heartbeat raced with recognition. Please don't park. My eyes darted around, still feeling a sense of safety while in the car. But outside of the car? Not so much. If he parked and expected me to stay, what was my best chance of escape? Through the woods? No. Running down the road?

Oh, dear Lord, woman, get a freaking grip!

"This isn't what I thought you meant when you asked me to come for supper." I glared ahead, staring out the windshield.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, my eyes roamed the edge of the woods beyond the open gate to pause at the spot where I had died, just past the first row of trees and slightly to the right of its center. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and squeezed my eyes shut, blowing out calming breaths.

Do not let that day ruin this now.

FORTY

Everything in front of me turned to shades of red, clouded by the bloodied memories of my death. Every tree loomed, their shadows growing to giant proportions over the wall separating the woods from the field. Although lean, the branches bulged, reminding me of Josh's overwhelming size. It was like my mind remembered every muscle, and no matter the fact that my eyes couldn't be seeing what I was imagining, I couldn't catch my breath.

David smiled, still looking out the window. "It's quiet here."

I shook my head, grateful that David hadn't seemed to have noticed my inner turmoil. Wouldn't that be fun to explain? I had been so sure that not saying anything, of allowing and accepting death to claim me, was the just thing to do, that I hadn't seen how wrong it was. I was wrong. The group of students that had taken me had been wrong. But dying to prove that was selfish and ultimately, just as wrong. It was time to move past it because technically, I hadn't experienced it yet.

"Why are we here?" I asked and turned in my seat to face David.

"To have supper." He put the car into park and released the hatch for the trunk. "You kept saying this—the two of us—was new, and you seem so uneasy in public, so..." He shrugged.

My lips parted in surprise. "So, you brought me to school?"

"No." He laughed. "I brought you to the field. For a picnic."

"A picnic?" I laughed and glanced down, feeling inadequate now in a dress. "At school? This place smells like death."

"What?" He climbed out of the car and I hurried after him, wondering why, if this was such a great idea, he hadn't met my gaze since we arrived. "It's quiet, so we can talk, and it's private so that nobody stares if I kiss you. Isn't that what you've been wanting?"

"Yeah," I whispered and shivered, wrapping my hands around my bare upper arms. Halter dresses looked good, sure, but they had the freaking warmth of a cold shower in the middle a snow day. I hated this field.

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, rubbing my upper arms to create warmth through the fabric. I couldn't help but pull it close across my chest, dropping my head for a subtle sniff of his fresh rain smell. He lifted a basket and blanket from the trunk.

I followed his gaze across the field, but I couldn't help but take notice of the woods instead. How could I explain to him my trepidation without sounding crazy? I couldn't. So, I pasted a smile onto my face and said, "What's for supper?"

"Let's go pick a spot and find out."

I cast another glance at the woods and then smiled brightly at him.

"Okay, yeah." I nodded and took a deep breath.

I could at least pretend to be enthusiastic. I mean, the guy had tried to be romantic and brought me for a picnic, even if it was at school. It's not like he knew I'd died here. At least I didn't have to pretend to be happy to be with him—no experience, tragic or otherwise, could put a damper on those feelings.

"Let's go find somewhere to plop our picnic down. I'm hungry."

"You don't like picnics, do you?" He stopped and looked down at me with a serious, I-totally-screwed-up-the-gesture expression hanging on his face.

"I do," I promised and sighed, pointing out to the field while pushing him lightly with my hand on his abdomen until we started walking. "I just don't like these woods."

"Do you want to go somewhere else? There's another field I found, but some kids were playing soccer when I drove by earlier." He stopped again and turned to face me, finally meeting my gaze, and all I could see was his sincerity—good intentions and an eagerness to please. "I don't mind."

"No, no," I said, pulling my arms through the sleeves of his jacket and bracing myself so that I could push past the bad and just enjoy what was now. "It'll be fine. Really. It's an old fear, and I'm being stupid. I want to stay here with you."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Nodding, I grabbed the blanket from on top of the basket and walked out to the middle of the field to spread it out with my back facing the woods. Just pretend it isn't there and enjoy the time with him.

"How was it with Tina?" He sat down across from me and began pulling out cold cuts and cheese with a mixed variety of fruits and vegetables, and a couple of cans of cold Iced Tea. "It must be hard for you that she's moving away."

"It is," I said, nodding, "but I think it's harder for her. She's the one who's moving away and doesn't know anyone. Tina is leaving her mom, too, which I can't even imagine." I sighed and rearranged my feet underneath me while trying not to expose too much of my legs. "I could never choose between my parents."

"I don't think she had much of a choice."

"I know." I took the drink he handed me and followed the condensation on the can with my finger. "I think I would have made the same choice if I were in her shoes."

"You'd choose your father?"

"No, not like that," I said. "She's just going through a lot and this thing with her parents is like, the icing on the cake. Trust me, if I was her and stuck in the same situation she's in, I'd be jumping at the chance to leave everything behind and start somewhere new."

"I doubt you'd run away from anything." He smiled, and I couldn't help but return the gesture. "Besides, it would really suck for me if you did."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not her." I averted my eyes so that he couldn't read anything more into what I said than what I wanted him to know, and added, "I'm just saying, if I was her, there are things that even I would run away from. I know why she's going—more than she's told me—and I can't be sad about her choosing a happier life for herself."

"Is she still leaving on Friday?"

I nodded and swallowed a sip my drink, licking runaway drops from my lips. "Actually, I'm going over there again after school tomorrow and I doubt I'll be free until Friday."

"We'll see each other at school and at lunch. You should spend her last night with her," he said and grew thoughtful, almost sad.

"Are you okay?" I watched him as he struggled to remove the worry from view. "We can hang out Friday. The minute that final bell rings"—I snapped my fingers—" I'm yours. Deal?"

Death excuses you from promises, right?

He looked up and smiled. "Then we have all weekend."

My bottom lip trembled, but before he could see it or question why I couldn't answer, I leaned forward to kiss him. He wrapped me in his arms, pulling me close. At the last minute, he fell onto the grass, bringing me with him. I rolled off his chest and onto my back with my head resting in the crook of his arm so that we both stared up at the darkening sky.

"That's cheating."

"Do you know anything about stars?" He pushed the loose strands of hair off my face, watching me as he spoke.

"Nope." I snuggled closer. "Tell me."

He laughed, and I could feel the vibration echo within his chest. "I don't know anything except that they're pretty cool to look at. Big and shiny, just like a toy. It gives us something new every night."

"I guess. I mean, I've never paid much attention to them before except to notice how pretty they look. It always seems the same to me."

"It's always changing, becoming new, yet staying old," he said. "Like, I've never been here before." He pulled me closer into him and kissed the top of my head. "I've never lain on the grass and stared up at the sky. If stars didn't exist, I wouldn't have an excuse for you to lay with me like this."

You don't need an excuse. His mouth twitched upwards at the corners as though he'd heard me.

I cleared my throat and leaned back to look up at him. "Well, it sure beats sitting at a restaurant for supper."

"It does, doesn't it?" He laughed, wrapping his other arm around me so his hand rested on my waist. "I could get used to this."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I wanted to look up at him but didn't want to move in case his arm pulled away.

"It's not," he said, his voice coming out like a whisper. "It's a very good thing."

We lay there all evening, completely forgetting about the picnic he'd packed. I let him hold me, his arms enveloping me like a blanket, and forgot all about how the woods made me feel. I felt untouchable like this, like I'd never known death and would never meet it again, and Tina would never leave. Tomorrow was going to be hard, and the comfort he gave me now would help me get through it. I didn't know what to expect come Friday, either, but if I died, at least I had felt loved.

I had been in love.

FORTY-ONE

David pulled me to his side and wrapped his arm around my waist to keep me close so that we could both fit under the umbrella he opened with his free hand as we left school the next day. What started as sprinkles had become torrential, and now the weather watch had officially become a warning, threatening for heavy rain, hail, and thunderstorms. Still, as long as the power remained turned on, school proceeded, and we had to wait until the final bell to leave.

It couldn't be more fitting, but at least rain would hide the tears that were sure to be streaking my face soon.

"So, if you need an excuse to leave..."

I slapped David in the stomach but laughed. "I what? Text you so you call pretending to need me? Because whatever emergency you come up with probably won't be received well considering my best friend is moving away."

"I—no." He shook his head. "I don't have a phone."

"What?" I stared at him, flabbergasted.

"We just moved here, Alyssa," he said. "We haven't had time to switch plans or whatever."

"Isn't that one of the first things you do? Before you move?" I rolled my eyes. "You'd think the company would keep the plan on until you switched it, at the very least."

He shrugged, taking my keys from my hand as we reached my car, and then left me alone under the umbrella to unlock the door. He came back smiling, and said, "I've been busy." Stepping under the umbrella, he shook the water from his hair and laughed when it sprayed my face. "Not that I'm complaining."

I rolled my eyes, laughing, but it didn't last long. Pinching the corners of my mouth down, I nodded. Saying goodbye to David knowing that I was on my way to a very literal last supper with my best friend was hard. Laughing and joking seemed wrong. I had no idea when I'd see Tina again, or even if I would see her again after tonight. It would be so easy to forget about her and get blissed out on David.

"Hey." David hooked a finger under my chin and raised my face until our gazes met and held. "It's going to be okay." He dipped his head to rest his forehead on mine. "Do you want me to come?"

"No." Yes. "I just... It's her last night, and you guys don't really know each other, so I think maybe it's something that I should probably do alone." Not to mention the fact that I didn't want him to see me cry. "It means a lot that you're willing to, though, so thanks."

David held my gaze for another minute as though trying to determine how true my words were. Finally, he nodded and then leaned forward to kiss my forehead, cupping my face in his hands. He pulled back without letting go, and said, "I'll be at Tucker's later, then, if you need me."

I opened my mouth but closed it before ruining his offer with anything less-than-fantastic in response. Slowly, I nodded, and he let go of my face, stepping back out of reach outside of the umbrella. Watching out of my peripheral vision as I forced myself to the car, David didn't move or look away. Rain streaked his features, soaking his clothes, but I opened the door and climbed inside. Starting the ignition, I quickly pulled out of the stall and began to drive away.

David watched until I could no longer see to tell if he was still there.

*****

I hesitated and took a deep breath before reaching out to press the doorbell with a shaky hand.

Tina and I only lived a few blocks apart. Right now, it felt like an ocean, and impossible to cross. The bungalow's wooden front door was like an army bunker's metal barricade. I tapped my foot against the cement porch while waiting for an answer, trying to keep warm even though the rain had finally hit a lull, both dreading and anticipating saying goodbye to my best friend.

Mrs. Amorfati answered the door after three minutes, looking as though Death had her in its grasp. Her face was red and splotchy, her eyes were swollen with tears. Her clothes, disheveled, looked like she'd never dressed before.

"Alyssa." She braced her weight against the doorframe and brought the Kleenex clutched in her other hand up to her red nose as she tried to suppress another sniffle. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." I narrowed my gaze. "Tina told me to come to hang out after school because she was having dinner with you." I watched a tear escape her eye and felt my stomach flip. Swallowing, I added, "We're going to say goodbye before she leaves tomorrow."

"Oh no." She hiccupped, letting go of the door and dropping her hand with the Kleenex so that she could reach out and pull me into a hug. She stroked my hair, whispering, "Tina and her father left this morning, Aly. We had our supper last night."

"What?" I pulled away, tears pooling in my own eyes, stinging as I kept them from falling. It felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the stomach. "B-but she said she wasn't leaving u-until tomorrow. She asked me to come here today. That's why I didn't stay longer yesterday."

"I'm sorry, Alyssa," she said, grabbing the door again for support as I stepped completely out of grasp. "But she's already left." She swiped at another tear with her Kleenex.

The invisible hand that hit me in the gut moments before knocked the breath from my lungs and then twisted. The stinging in my eyes turned to burning, but I couldn't bring myself to blink, too afraid that would allow the tears to fall. I focused all my energy on Mrs. Amorfati and asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, but I will be." She nodded and tried to smile.

"Okay." I looked back and pointed to my car. "I'm going to go. Uh, if you need anything..."

"Thank you." She hugged me again. "Go home and see your parents, okay? I'll be fine. I'm just going to take a nap."

I squinted behind her and saw Des standing in the hallway with a new box of Kleenex, waiting for her mom. I didn't want Tina's sister to feel like what she felt didn't matter, which I knew Mrs. Amorfati had somehow accomplished by giving in to her anguish without regard for her remaining daughter.

Telling myself to butt out did no good.

"You too, Mrs. Amorfati." I pointed to Des behind her. "You should go give her a hug. I'm guessing she needs you to do that," I said, and Mrs. Amorfati's expression went from sad to surprised. Then anger, like she suddenly hated the sound of my voice, set into her expression. I cleared my throat. "Let us know if you need anything."

She closed the door in my face before I finished my sentence.

Turning, I started to walk back to my car, looking back once to see Des wave from between the crack in the living room curtains. I waved back and then faced forward, allowing the tears to fall down my cheeks. Maybe Mrs. Amorfati would see what I suggested, that it wouldn't take too long for her to realize I wasn't wrong, and she wouldn't lose two daughters instead of one.

How could Tina have lied to me? I felt so stupid. She hadn't sent me so much as a text message, and now I was too pissed to send her one. She just left. Without a word or a goodbye or an, I love you? I guess friendship is the journey you take with someone and not the way it ends. Otherwise, I've never had a single one.

*****

More than anything, I wanted to drive to Tucker's and find David. Instead, I went to the field at the back of the school and parked my car, not wanting him to see me with streaks running down my face and red, puffy skin. Just his voice would soothe me, more so than even a hug, but without a phone, that was impossible. No cell or, apparently, landline.

Who doesn't have a phone?

Staring forward, blinded as my tears fell, I don't know how long I sat there. Why had I come? I guess the trees had been so good for so long, it was hard to look at them and not remember that. There was so much bad mixed in with the good, I didn't know which to let guide me. But being here meant not having to go home, and if I couldn't have David, I wanted to be alone.

Slowly, I got out of my car and made my way into the woods, kicking the leaves up as I walked. I could still feel the death in the air, as ridiculous as that was. It hadn't even happened. If the memories shouldn't exist, I needed to get past them if I ever wanted to be able to move on. Being here with David had helped, sure, but I hadn't died in the field.

I had to face the woods.

Without letting myself hesitate, I passed through the open gate and found the tree that I was tied to during my first death and sat with my back against it. There was no blood on the ground yet—anymore? Nobody was here to hurt me. It was still my 'safe' place. My head knew this, but my heart, and my nerves needed reassurance. My breathing quickened and grew shallow. I blinked the memories from sight.

How could I love these woods again?

If I could figure that out, then maybe I'd be okay with everything that had happened since that day, or whatever I was doomed to repeat. Tina moving away hurt, but it wasn't as bad as one of us dying or Mr. Tinsley getting away with all of his crap. I was happy that nobody had been wounded this time, even if it stung. It felt like a freaking hornet's nest had been released into my body through my mouth before somebody taped it shut, but still. It was right.

When I realized the truth of that, I felt the warmth of the woods again. I wasn't about to spend my free time here, of course, but I wasn't going to hide. Avoidance hadn't worked in any other aspects of my life, and I didn't want to run from anything anymore. Whenever I felt overwhelmed by it, I could come here or the treehouse my father had built when I was younger—that was real, at least. Tangible.

I swiped at my cheeks and stood.

These woods couldn't scare me anymore. I had overcome them, and the memories of that day were but a dream, a terrifying dream that had been so real it bled into reality. Now, it was gone, and all its evidence eradicated. The biggest truth I had to remember was that I didn't have to experience that this time.

Walking back to my car, I crawled onto the hood, leaning back against the windshield to stare at the woods from a distance. I was happy, and life was good. Despite the tears and the sadness of the day, I would stay happy and life would stay good.

Through the happiness, though, I felt fear start to creep in.

Tomorrow was Friday again, and I had never lived past it. I wanted to live this time. I really did. For me and for my parents, and even for David. Especially for David.

Now that Tina was gone, I wouldn't die protecting her even if Mr. Tinsley stumbled into that parking lot. I wouldn't be there for him to find because I would be in class. Maybe I'd just stay home, I thought, and avoid the day altogether. David would be there Saturday for me to hang out with, and he'd totally believe that I was too upset about Tina to come to school. Everyone would believe that if that's what I wanted.

What was I supposed to do?

How did I make these choices when I felt like I had no options left? I was only sixteen—seventeen in a month—but too young to be making life and death decisions. Why was it up to me to decide what's best for everyone else? I couldn't even vote yet! Then again, it was probably good that I was so young, or I would've been on a bar stool instead of the hood of my car.

I jumped down off the car when the sky started to darken, all of the stars hidden behind the thick clouds that threatened more rain. I snorted upwards, hating whatever God hid behind the clouds, pulling the strings of peoples' destinies. Just leave me alone! I wanted to scream. Let me live my life free of the weight of whatever cosmic responsibility I had been given.

When I got home, I bypassed my parents and headed straight for the privacy of my bedroom. Had they known Tina was leaving? No, they wouldn't do that to me. They had known my plans and had said nothing about it. Even if they knew, it wouldn't have changed anything. Tina was gone, and I had squandered any chance I had at saying goodbye to be with David. Would I have done anything differently? Maybe I'd have added another ten minutes to our visit—a half hour tops.

I crawled under the blankets on my bed without changing my clothes and closed my eyes. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone, only to hibernate—just for one night—to process the fact that my best friend was gone without saying goodbye.

Finally, I understood what the voice had meant: when a person was gone, the people around them were wounded, lost and alone. I had been wrong. Every time I had selfishly saved someone else so that I didn't grieve had left them suffering over me instead. I'd seen a between place. I knew that life—some form of existence—after death was real. The light of their souls would never truly be extinguished because death wasn't the end.

Knowing this didn't make death okay—just the opposite. I would fight it tooth and nail and cherish every moment I had without it. I would live past tomorrow this time, no matter what was thrown at me.

FORTY-TWO

The Brothers

The Mortal Realm

"I did what you asked," I said through the open window of the car as I pulled to a stop along the curb a few blocks from Alyssa's house. Unfolding myself from the driver's seat, I felt my muscles contract and my joints snap. Straightening, I rounded the car and placed the keys into the First's hand. "Maybe next time we could arrange something a little bigger if I have to drive?"

He shrugged and looked down to the keys. When he looked back up, both the vehicle and the keys were gone, faded from sight. "You turned it into a date."

I pulled the collar of my jacket up to my chin and bent my head against the wind. In this shape and material form, I was no longer impervious to the elements of the human world, and for the first time of my existence, I felt the bite of cold.

"You said I wouldn't be watched."

"I said that you wouldn't be judged—"

"—and backs would be turned," I finished with an edge to my voice. "I took her to the field. Wasn't that the whole point?"

He nodded and stopped to face me. "The plan has changed, Brother."

Lifting my head to meet his gaze, the truth of what was to come was clear without the need for words. My breath, shortened with surprise, sucked in, cold as it slid down my throat. "No." I shook my head and looked away. "We can't—no. How is this fair?"

"It's a life for a life, Brother, or have you been gone so long you've forgotten the rules?" The First Brother sounded like he was enjoying this, like in some weird way, this was how his justice would be served. "You're the one who got close to her."

"Whose idea was this? Yours?" I shoved my hands through the back of my hair and kept my gaze averted, forcing myself to begin walking.

"The Sisters, although I haven't failed to see the beauty of their plan." He shrugged and fell into step beside me.

"So, no matter what, you're saying that there's zero way out of this plan." Nobody could escape fate, not when the Sisters were directly involved. But then, nobody should be able to wrangle away from Death, either, and that was what this plan allowed.

"It is how it must be for her to be prepared for what comes next," the First said without emotion. "It'll also make sure that the people she needs will be there for her when she needs them."

"Do you know what it is yet? Did you even think to ask?"

"I know enough, and after tomorrow—"

"—I won't be able to see her again," I said, cutting him off with a whisper.

Angels were gifted with the ability to take mortal form, but it was limited to one. After tomorrow... Well, if what the First wanted to happen occurred, she wouldn't recognize me if I tried to see her.

"No, you won't."

He stopped walking.

My steps continued down the street as I kept going, hating who and what I was for the first time—the restrictions of my existence that had been limited by my power—and what it meant for the only person I'd ever loved. The First faded from sight and my breathing returned to normal, at least by human standards. The truth that I had witnessed in his eyes was terrifying. The worst of it was that Alyssa was the one who would be made to suffer, more than I already was. Even if it meant that I could no longer be with her, I would do anything to lessen her pain.

If the so-called plan I'd seen in my brother's eyes was followed, I didn't need words to see that not only would she be in pain, but we'd never see one another again. How was I supposed to live with that? I didn't know how to change it, and if the First was right, it couldn't be altered. Not now, not ever. But now I was so integrated, not only among the students at Royal Academy but with Alyssa, I couldn't regret being assigned anymore. Alyssa could never be a regret.

I love her.

It was the simplest thing I had ever known, and the most complicated. Angels do not love humans. Period. It just wasn't done; it certainly wasn't permitted.

Walking in my mortal form all the way to the woods, the scene that represented the beginning of the madness, I was pulled as if an invisible line was tugging me in. Wishing for the ability to erase the hardships from her mind, I wanted to take all the pain that she'd felt over the weeks and bear it as my own. Only He knew I had suffered worse, that even the agony of multiple deaths was nothing in comparison to the knowledge that we would never be together.

The tree she had been bound to during her first death showed no sign of her blood, though when I closed my eyes, it was almost as though I could still catch her scent. It was like she was just here, and I just missed her by a matter of moments.

But there was nothing—no blood, no Alyssa, no Death.

Because it hadn't happened yet. It only existed in her mind now, frozen in her well of memories. Experience my ass. How could something so wrong be construed as good?

I kicked the low-hanging branches with frustration, the snap as they were ripped from their life-source satisfying. Kicking it repeatedly, I didn't stop until sweat formed on my brow and there was nothing but the bare trunk of the tree remaining.

It wasn't enough.

Reverting to my true form and its invisibility from the world, I welcomed the change—it made me stronger.

Strong enough that when I hit the tree with a clenched fist, large fragments of bark flew through the air in every direction and an indentation was left in its wake. I hit it again. And again. I wound my leg behind me and kicked the tree as hard as I could, the thunder of contact echoing for miles, shaking the land.

The tree toppled to its side as easily as if I had taken a chainsaw to its base.

I moved to the next tree, and then the one beside that.

It sounded like a thunderstorm had erupted, and anyone who may have been close enough to see it must have imagined they were losing their mind. Good. Maybe those students from Elixir were wandering around looking for their next high and this would scare them straight.

Trees toppling of their own accord?

It looked as though they simply disintegrated and fell.

The clearing that formed erected a sense of accomplishment within me. It was my way of removing Alyssa's fear. Now, no matter what memories she retained, the clearing wouldn't trigger them like the sight of the trees standing tall would.

It did nothing to ease my problems.

I grunted and with a final kick, sending the tenth tree to its side. My goal was complete as the circle became fully formed. I sat where I stood and surveyed the damage, but it didn't help. The troubles that spiraled into an angelic hissy fit were still weighing on me as heavily as they had before I'd transformed into my true form. It was naive to think that changing my appearance and the formation of the trees would change how I felt.

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees and held my head in my hands. My true form started to fade back into my mortal body and I fought through the flickering to remain invisible. I had been amongst humans too long.

Still, now that I had a taste of life, if I could choose between the two, my true form would fade forever.

"What do I do?" I whispered into my hands.

A branch snapped behind me and I twisted at the waist to look left, deep into the woods, but there was nothing. Turning right, I saw a faint light, and then a petite woman with white-blonde hair streaked with red appeared. Her matching red dress, made of gauzy layers of fabric, didn't touch the ground. She was floating, hovering as she appraised me with a critical eye.

FORTY-THREE

"Brother." The woman nodded, her head tilting only slightly.

Okay, so she wasn't human, or she wouldn't have seen me. Not to mention the floating. I narrowed my eyes and jumped to my feet. Who was she to know my name?

"It is nice to meet you," she said in a soft voice using perfect enunciation and extended her hand.

I looked down to see brightly painted red nails protruding from the hand half-hidden by her sleeve and took a step backward. Were those claws or fingernails?

Using the full weight of my natural authority, I demanded. "Who are you?"

She didn't flinch.

"You know who I am," she said, tinkling with laughter. She looked around the clearing and a spark lit her eyes. "Is this your handiwork?"

I nodded, following her gaze. Then it hit me like ice water thrown in my face. "Which Sister are you? Why are you here? I thought I wasn't supposed to know anything?"

"Yes, well, that was the plan." She gazed at me pointedly and folded her hands in front of her, cocking her head to the side like it was somehow my fault she was here when all of this was her—and her sisters'—plan. "You seem inclined to find another way to go about things."

Shrugging, I raised my chin before turning my back to her. "Which Sister are you?"

"I am Lachesis," she said without moving, though her voice elevated slightly, echoing to reach me as though she was standing directly in front of me. "I am quite surprised a Guardian was not sent to protect the girl. I am happy with the outcome."

"Are you serious?" I growled, turning back to face her. "Do you know what your plan has done? Even if I find a way through this, she'll never know me, not truly. I was ready to fall for her. Do you understand? Your plan has ruined everything. Do whatever you want to me, but this plan? It has ruined her, and I'm not okay with that. And it damn well shouldn't be making you happy."

She unfolded her hands and lifted the front of her dress to reveal a pair of dainty red, pointed slippers as she glided to one of the fallen trees lying on its side. Sitting, she began rearranging the folds of her dress around her as though she had all the time in the world.

Lachesis raised her head to glance at me and pointed to the fallen tree across from her and said, "Come. Sit. We shall talk about this."

I rolled my eyes but obeyed. Whatever she had to say wouldn't change my mind, but the fact that she had sought me out meant that my brother had been mistaken. If I couldn't change what they wanted to happen, she never would have come. If it meant finding out what I could do to change it, it was worth hearing her out.

"Maybe you should start. Why was I requested? You said you were surprised to see it wasn't a Guardian who was sent to the girl, yet I was told that it had been a request specifically made by you for me." I schooled my expression so that no emotion showed and blinked at her.

"You do not like the plan the First Brother has presented, do you?" She crossed her hands neatly in her lap again and ignored my questions.

"I will find a way around it."

"You have the ability to do that, sure, but do you know the consequences?" She cocked her head to the side. "I know you and your brothers do not understand why this has happened, and I am sorry that I cannot be more enlightening. That cannot be helped. I can tell you that if you follow the plan, it will not mean the end to your love."

I snorted. "I'm immortal. I will love her for eternity, Lachesis. The reality is that I will never be able to be with her if I follow this plan of yours." I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees and said, "Just give me a reason. I just need one reason why I should go through with this. Why is it so important? Who is she, really, in the grand scheme of things? If you can't tell me that, then I'm sorry. I will find a way around it."

"I cannot give you a reason. I thought all your kind followed orders without question?" She raised her hand to stop me from replying, and the words died on my lips. "I know it isn't your fault, Brother. We stuck you together and it was inevitable that you would want to fall for her. In fact, it was expected. We wanted you to love her."

"How did you know?"

She shrugged. "We are Fate."

I shook my head and stood. "I'm done trying to understand, Lachesis. I don't have time for riddles or half-truths."

I turned and took a step away from the clearing I had made.

A flash of blue light glowed through the trees, brilliant yet impossible, and she was suddenly in front of me again, raising her hand to touch my forehead with her fingers while she said, "I cannot show you what you want to know, but I will show you what your interference will manifest."

A flash of bright white light flashed behind the lids of my eyes, and then faded to the lightest blue just before they closed, and I fell to the ground, unconscious.

*****

"Alyssa. Psst. Alyssa, wake up," I whispered, knocking on her bedroom window from my perch in the large willow tree scraping against her house. "Hey, get up, Sleeping Beauty."

She moaned and reached over to turn on her bedside lamp. I heard the alarm clock hit the bedroom floor and her curse that followed, and I suppressed a smile.

She was too cute.

A few seconds later Alyssa was at the window, covered with a dingy blue robe tied hap hazardously around her waist, hanging slightly open to reveal boy-cut underwear and a tank top. I slid back slightly on the branch and smiled. Even with tousled hair and squinting, sleep-filled eyes, she was adorable.

"David?" she whispered, and opened the window, hugging the robe closer to brace against the night air chilling her body. "What are you doing here?"

I motioned for her to step back and crawled through the window.

She re-tied her robe and stared at me as though I'd lost my mind. Then, as though just remembering that her parents were sleeping in the room across the hall, she ran to close the bedroom door, pressing her back against it for a moment once it shut. Using it to push herself back across the room and into my outstretched arms, she finally smiled with a breathless laugh.

I pulled her tight against me, breathing her familiar vanilla-scented hair with a deep sigh of relief. This is what it is all about, I thought, and kissed her on the crown of her head. I took a moment to appreciate the moment and then pushed her away without lowering my hands from her arms so that I could look down and meet her gaze.

"Alyssa, we have to talk."

She lost her smile and took another step backward, forcing me to drop my arms to my sides. "What is this about?" She looked around, combing her hair with her fingers. "What time is it?"

Tilting my head to the side as I studied her, I winced. "Midnight, I think."

"Why are you here?" She looked back and narrowed her gaze. "Did you know which window mine was, or were you willing to crawl into my parent's room?"

I stepped around her and sat on the edge of her bed, patting the spot on my left for her to join me. She hesitated for a moment and then nodded, glancing at her bedroom door. Never taking her eyes from me, she sat, tentative at first, but then shifted for comfort.

"I knew which window led to your bedroom," I said softly.

"Okay." She rolled her eyes. "I guess... Should I be flattered?"

Should I start by telling her there was no way I would get it wrong? That would lead to the whole angel bit. Even if I had chosen wrong, I could make it so that her parents wouldn't remember seeing me at all. They would just go back to sleep, none the wiser. But Alyssa deserved better than an, "Oh, by the way..."

I looked at her and tried to smile, though it didn't take. "I'm not who you think I am."

"I—" Alyssa shook her head. She crossed her legs under her and turned so that she didn't have to crane her neck to see me and started again. "I don't know what you are talking about, David."

"My name isn't David, Alyssa," I clarified. It was the best place to start if I had any hope of her understanding. "David was the name of the angel who had been sent to watch over you, but he disappeared. I was sent to replace him until he could be found."

"I'm sorry?" She jumped up and walked to her desk, leaning back against the top and folding her arms across her chest. She glanced at the bedroom door and then narrowed her eyes, and asked in a low voice, "Who the hell are you then?"

"Look, don't freak out okay?" I stared at her, hoping that she would see the truth of my emotions in my expression. "You died in the woods because David—the real David—disappeared. The Sisters of Fate called the Guardians to help protect you and fix the mistake that had been made when you died. There is a group who we refer to as the Brothers, and they oversee the Guardians. The Brothers delegate their duties and punishments if those duties are not fulfilled to satisfaction. When the Sisters called on the Guardians—"

"Wait," she interrupted, holding up a hand in the air. She tilted her head to the side and made a sour face. "So, you're what? A Guardian Angel?"

FORTY-FOUR

"No, Alyssa," I whispered, slowly shaking my head, a soft smile playing on my lips. "I'm not a Guardian."

Gloom filled my heart, the kind of sadness that made you hate who you are because you have to tell the person you love that you weren't the person they loved.

"I'm one of the Brothers who oversee the Guardians. When the Sisters called on the Guardians, the Brothers knew the only way to rectify the infraction would be to send one of our own. The Sisters insisted, actually, and that is why I'm here. They wanted me to come for you."

Standing, I waved my hand through the air and began to pace as I stared down at the floor. "I didn't want to come at first, even after we sent you back that first time. It wasn't until I saw you enter the school on the first Monday that you were sent back, and I saw how good you are, that I warmed to the idea."

Alyssa blinked at me, and I couldn't tell what she was thinking. "So, you hated me?"

"No," I said, and went to stand in front of her. I raised my arms to her side but then dropped them before making contact. With a heavy sigh, I sat back on the bed. "I didn't hate you, Alyssa. That's not possible."

My feelings were so far from hate, I almost laughed. Her voice had been jarring, and only now I recognized why. The moment her light had filled my vision, my heart had thawed from the coldness of the duties I was forced to bear, and after being with her, nothing would ever be the same. How could I ever go back to that now?

I looked up to the ceiling as I continued to try explaining what didn't make sense, even to me, and it was what I called life. "The Brothers all have duties above and beyond the Guardians. In order to be here for you, I can't fulfill my other duties. At least, not in human form."

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again when no words formed.

"This sounds crazy, doesn't it?" I smiled wryly.

"Compared to everything else I've experienced lately?" She sighed. "So, you were the voice?"

I nodded. "You were talking with all of the Brothers while you were between the living and the dead."

"Why are you telling me this?" She walked back to the bed and sat beside me, perched on the edge to bolt if she didn't like where the conversation went.

"Because what I feel for you wasn't part of the plan." I took her hand in mine and stroked her palm with my thumb. "At least not the Brothers' plan when I came, though I'm starting to doubt what the Sisters' expectations were." Smiling softly, I looked up and met her gaze. "I fell for you over the weeks as you showed us how brave and selfless you are. I love the good within you, Alyssa. I love you. It goes against all the rules and beliefs I've lived by, and the only way to do this"—I pointed between us—" means losing this me for the real me. I'm scared that you won't accept that."

"I don't understand." She furrowed her brows and tilted her head. "I love you, David, and I want to be with you."

"In order to be together, I have to fall. If I choose that, I won't be able to portray myself as David anymore," I said, pausing only to inhale a deep breath. "I won't look the same, and my name as you know it, will not exist."

"I don't care about that." She smiled, and I could see that she meant what she said when I met her gaze.

Now what? Could she really accept me? Would she run or stay? There was only one way I would ever know for sure.

Allowing my disguise to fade, I forced my true form visible.

My hair grew black, like the twilight outside her window, and my tan deepened, though the Glory from within my soul radiated out through my skin. I could hear the breath hitch in her throat and how her heart rate sped as she saw the added height elongate my limbs as though I had hunched down three inches since we'd met. She stared at me with disbelief. All the softness she knew in the boy had turned hard, every muscle defined and sculpted like a statue. Shock, like she was trying to decide if I was crazy—or if she would be crazy to accept me—painted her face.

Our eyes met. It was the only feature about me that couldn't be changed, the blue that was as clear as David's swirling with the emotions of her indecision as I waited for her to choose what to feel for a Brother—me. The Second Brother. It felt like forever before she moved, finally leaning forward to accept me with a soft kiss. My heart raced faster with her verdict than it had whilst waiting for her to make it.

I leaned in and deepened the kiss until our tongues danced together, twining one hand through her hair while I cupped her cheek with the other. It was hot, satisfying, and so perfect that when we pulled apart, we were both panting to catch our breath even though, in my true form, breathing became unnecessary. I wanted more.

"What do we have to do to be together?" she whispered, cupping my cheek in her hand, and trailed the scar down the line of my jaw with what seemed like wonder.

"We'd have to leave. Tonight. If we stay, we'll never make it past tomorrow," I warned. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded. "I—yes."

"Pack a bag." I scrambled up from the bed, pausing to reach back and help her to her feet. "We're leaving and staying far away until it's safe for us to come back."

"Seriously?" She glanced back to the door.

I nodded. "I'm going to get your car, okay? Mine was a... Well, it was a rental." I laughed, though never could I explain to her how 'rental' really meant 'manifested from Heaven'. Shaking the thought from my head, I sobered, and added, "When I come back, we'll get away and be together. Nobody can stop us if they can't find us."

She cast a final glance at her closed bedroom door and nodded. I pulled her in and kissed her, hard and fast. Rushing back to the window, I swung my legs out towards the branch. She'd taken the news better than I'd anticipated and my heart jumped, buoyant at the possibility of more time together.

"David?" she called, and I turned to face her, the bright smile lighting my features fading when I saw her eyes roll back into her head.

She collapsed, dead before she crumpled on the floor, and in my attempt to rush to her side, I found myself falling out of the window. Landing on the ground head-first, my mortal form perished upon impact.

Fighting the pull of darkness that would bring me back to the Celestial Realm, I released the hold of my mortal form and rose. I looked down to the body of David once in my true form and then jumped, bending at the knees and pushing with the balls of my feet. A second later I was through Alyssa's window without aid from the tree and rushed to her side.

"No." I dropped to my knees and cradled her head in my lap. "No, no, no."

The bedroom door slammed open and both her parents rushed inside. Their eyes widened, and their mouths dropped. Her mother's hand covered her mouth and she looked to her husband, shocked and filled with disbelief. His jaw hardened, and he stared down to me.

I looked up, tears running down my face. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Leave."

"I—"

"Now!"

Ignoring him, I bent down and kissed Alyssa on her forehead, and whispered, "Goodbye."

*****

"Did you like that alternative?" Lachesis asked, standing over me where I lay on the ground as my vision brought me back to the present. "That is what you were planning, was it not?"

Pulling myself up to glare at her, I shook my head clear of visions of Alyssa. She was so beautiful in my dreams. And dead—again—because of me. "You created that in my mind. How can I be sure it wasn't a trick?"

"Do I look funny to you, Brother?" Lachesis raised her eyebrow, looking like a headmistress punishing an out-of-control schoolkid with a single glance. "I do not make jokes, and there is no humor within the duties I perform."

"There are other ways that I can fix this, you know."

I swiped my palms against my thighs and took a backward step towards the path leading to the field, feeling dizzy. Blinking, I tried to lose the image of Alyssa's lifeless form without success. True or not, could I risk letting Alyssa suffer that fate? Again?

"Of course, you could always just take her on some sort of road trip, just to get away, and you would both die in a horrific car accident," she theorized, turning to glide back to her position on the fallen log. "You may take off alone so that she will not endure what is to come, but without your protection, she would be forced to relive her day in these woods and die. Or she will be poisoned or shot, or she will drown..."

Everything Lachesis said filled my head with imagery, none of which I wanted to see. Alyssa bloody. Alyssa scarred, charred by fire. Alyssa cold, lifeless, her skin almost as white as her hair. But then, everything I saw always dissolved into light, which faded to Alyssa laughing, smiling, and glowing with the goodness inside of her soul.

"I can predict every scenario that you could imagine thinking of, Brother, and unless the plan is followed, the outcome is clear: Alyssa Frank will die, and more often than not, your mortal persona will die with her." Lachesis flicked her wrist as though chatting about the ways the girl I loved would possibly die was as flippant a topic as discussing what to have for breakfast. "Then you will face judgment in your true form. I do not know much about love, but does it survive death? The Lake of Fire?"

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded through clenched teeth, my hands balled at my sides to keep from hitting her. "Why can't you think of some other way?"

"There is no other way, Brother."

I turned at the sound of a new voice and came face-to-face with the First Brother.

"I told you," he said. "There is no way to stop this."

"The girl has no more chances," Lachesis added with satisfaction. She nodded to the First in acknowledgment.

"Why would you seek out the Sisters, Brother?" he asked, eyeing me with irritation. "I told you—"

"He did not seek my attention," Lachesis said in my defense. "I found him so that he can understand that this is for the best. By showing him what will happen if he deviates from our plan for the girl, I think he and I may have reached an understanding."

They both looked to me and I regarded the ground, struggling with the truth of what she said. "I have the power to turn back the hours to just before she dies if that is what happens. I can play out unlimited supplies of outcomes before I concede to this plan of yours." I swallowed. "But you are right. This is the best possible outcome."

"Thank you," Lachesis said.

"I'm not doing this for you, Lachesis. Or even for you, Brother." I looked at each of them with distaste. "I'm only doing this because I don't want her to have to go through dying again. Alyssa doesn't deserve to be hurt and being the cause of her pain is unquestionable."

"You're doing the right thing, Brother."

"Don't talk to me," I warned, not caring what insubordination meant at this point. He couldn't discipline me for something that happened while 'his back was turned', not unless he wanted to be judged as a deceiver. "I'll see you when it is done."

"Brother—"

"We're done here," I said and faded from sight, still in my true form.

I traveled unseen to the tree outside of Alyssa's window and perched on the branch to watch her sleep. This girl, whatever she was in the bigger picture, had captured my heart.

When it was time to say goodbye, I knew that I would be leaving without it.

FORTY-FIVE

Alyssa

On Friday morning I woke from the strangest dreams. I was with David, but he was looking back at me with another boy's face. His name, his features—everything about the boy I knew was wrong. But even though whoever he became was never clear, his eyes didn't alter, unchanging. It made less sense than what I'd witnessed of life after death, and I disregarded it as being exactly what it had been presented as.

Why sabotage the one thing that gave me a reason to breathe now that Tina was gone in exchange for something so intangible?

I forced myself out from under the covers and into the shower. It was a sucky day—D-Day—and I had no idea what would happen. The problem with not knowing, though, was that I wanted to make sure I didn't waste a single second. As sad as I was, and as confusing as the situation had become, I couldn't wait to get my butt in gear and see David. Even if I didn't survive, Death would have to work extra hard to get this girl.

Running down the stairs twenty minutes later, fully dressed and looking for food, my steps slowed as I neared the door to the kitchen. The television was blaring, and both my parents were quiet. When I peered around the corner, my dad sat with his cup of coffee halfway to his mouth and my mother sat with her mouth hanging open as they listened to the latest newscast.

"The two boys brought in from Elixir High School yesterday for questioning in relation to the attacks occurring in our communities after an anonymous call was made to Hidden Springs Police Services are now home and with their families. More after the break."

Tip-toeing across the kitchen, I quietly opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water and a container of cut-up cantaloupe. I turned my back to the room and opened both, and then twisted back so that my back rested on the counter as I ate and watched the rest of the broadcast as the commercials came to an end.

"While being questioned, another attack occurred early this morning in Border City. Of the three victims, two were critically injured and are undergoing surgery, while the third was pronounced dead at the scene. In light of these events, both suspects were released, and no charges were laid pertaining to these crimes. Names have not been provided to the public, and the search for those responsible is still being conducted. Tune in this evening for further updates."

The open bottle of water fell from my hands, splattering on the floor. Both my parents looked up, realizing I was there. Rushing to the sink, I grabbed the dishrag and fell to my knees, skidding across the two feet of floor to wipe up the puddle. Keeping my eyes averted so that I couldn't see the looks my parents must be sharing, I scrubbed in circles, pushing the water around rather than absorbing it into the cloth.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling breathless. "I didn't mean to."

"Leave it," my mother said, and stood. She came over and knelt down, placing her hand on mine before taking the rag. "Here. Let me finish this while you get another water and head to school."

"Are you alright?" my father asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine." I nodded and stood, brushing invisible dirt from the knees of my jeans. "It's just..." I licked my lips and swallowed. "Somebody died in those attacks. It's really ah—awful."

More like incomprehensible.

Nobody died until they found me. The victory of telling Mrs. Haun about who was responsible for the attacks had prompted their arrest. I was as sure of that as I was of the fact that Christy instigated the attack in Border City to free Josh and Duke from the police. How was I supposed to feel about that?

If I had died and stayed dead, that person would still be alive.

I looked up to the container on the counter, and my stomach flipped. Gazing down to the floor, I mumbled that I had to go and fled, ignoring my parents as they called out to me. I grabbed my bag from the floor beside the front door and ran out of the house to my car, gasping, and dropped my keys.

"Dammit." I bent to pick them up, pausing to wipe a tear as it streaked down my cheek.

Taking a deep breath, I stood, let myself in my car, and squealed away from my house, leaving tire marks on the street. I could barely see, and all I could think was that I needed to get away from their eyes full of questions, even if it forced me away from safety without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'I love you.'

*****

David was waiting for me to arrive, leaning against the red brick building with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jeans until my car came into sight. It was the closest I'd ever come to experiencing instant gratification, a reminder that no matter how bad things seemed, there was always something good. Every girl who passed him glanced at him with appreciation and every boy glared with jealousy because the girls were noticing. Nobody—and I didn't think this because of how I felt for him—could make the dark jeans and a black windbreaker that contrasted perfectly with his bleached-white runners look so good.

Checking in the rear-view mirror for streaks from the tears on my cheeks, I realized that I hadn't bothered to wear any mascara. I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, his smile causing my heart to jump like a gymnast locked in a cage while stuck in somersault mode. Slowing my pace so that I didn't look needy, I smiled in return and stepped onto the sidewalk just as he reached me.

"How are you doing?" David asked, slinging his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the main doors of the school.

There was no way to answer honestly. I looked up and smiled, and then stared straight ahead. What would he say if I asked why doing what was right could get someone killed and two more requiring surgery? During the first week, the last attack before mine had seemed the least severe, but now... Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut? I had been on such a good roll. Trying to change things after getting Mr. Tinsley taken care of should have been enough. None of this would be happening otherwise.

"Stupid question," he said, shaking his head. "Really. Don't answer that."

"Okay." I smiled up at him. "But it's not a stupid question."

"Oh, okay. Did you get to see Tina before they left this morning?" He switched his bag to his left shoulder and removed his arm so that he could take my hand as we walked into school. "Is that why you're late?"

Truth time?

David didn't stop or notice my hesitation as we navigated the halls filled with students heading to class before the bell rang. I looked up and saw Suzie, alone, watching us from the end of the hallway. What was her deal? The only way to know was to scream over everyone's chatter, which would call attention to me when I was still stuck on how to answer David. But I couldn't let go of the feeling that I should stop and listen to what she had to say. Even the sensation of her watching never seemed to dissipate, even when we rounded the corner and stopped at my locker.

I let go of David's hand and reached for the lock to twirl in my combination. "I'm late because I totally forgot to set my alarm," I said and rolled my eyes, hoping he didn't look too closely to see if I was lying. I didn't set the alarm, but I'd totally woken before it would have gone off. "I fell asleep earlier than usual, so..." I shrugged as the door opened, and then ducked my head from view.

"I'm sorry—"

"Tina left with her dad yesterday morning, anyway, so I didn't get to say goodbye," I whispered, feeling embarrassed to admit it.

I couldn't help but wonder what that said about me—a bad friend or just insignificant? I thought I mattered so much more to her, but still. Not one phone call or text or email or Facebook message. It was like I meant nothing, so inconsequential that I didn't even warrant a goodbye or an explanation.

"What?" He closed the locker halfway and turned me by the shoulders to face him. "Didn't you go to her house last night?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Mrs. Amorfati—" I cleared my throat. "When I showed up, Tina's mom told me that they left yesterday morning."

"Tina probably just didn't want—"

"I felt like a complete ass!" I lifted my arms and let them drop to my sides, my hands hitting me in the thighs as my shoulders slumped. "You know, there I was, cheerfully asking her mom—who couldn't stop crying the whole time we talked, by the way—where Tina was." I looked down to the floor, took a deep breath, and lowered my voice when people stopped to stare. "And she was already gone! Never mind how I felt. How could she let me go there and upset her mom?"

I slammed my locker shut, not having placed anything inside or taken any items out, and turned, raising my finger to David's face. "And don't even get me started with her sister. Her mom was so busy with her own woe-is-me sob fest that she didn't even notice that Des was just as upset! You should have seen her, David. I felt so bad for her.

"Anyway, like the idiot I am, I had to tell Mrs. Amorfati what I thought about that, and instead of helping Des connect with her mom, I earned the door being slammed in my face. So yeah, aside from wanting to know that she arrives safely, I don't want to talk to Tina. Not now. I don't know when I'll want that again."

"I'm sorry."

"No." I shook my head and laughed, putting my arm on his. "I'm sorry. Talking to you seems to be therapeutic. I didn't even realize I was thinking all that until just now."

"You must have been upset. Anyone would be." He draped his arm around my shoulder and nudged me forward gently. "You could have come to Tucker's for me, you know. I said I'd be there if you needed me."

"I was upset." I shrugged, not wanting to elaborate.

"So, what did you do?" he asked, looking down at me while we walked.

"There was nothing that I could do. They were gone."

David chuckled softly. "No, I meant what did you do after that? Did you stay at Tina's with her mom?"

"No. I told you, she slammed the door in my face, remember? I went home." I grimaced, feeling bad that I didn't tell him about the woods even though I had eventually gone home. "I pretty much went straight to bed after that."

"Sometimes people need to be alone."

The bell rang. He paused and looked at me.

"What?"

"I have to go to the office to see about switching a class, but I'll see you for gym?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"Hey."

His hand cupped my shoulder and I turned back to face him just in time to receive a short but gentle kiss. His thumb rubbed down across my cheek and he rested his forehead against mine.

"Time makes everything better. It sucks now, but it'll be okay," he said softly, holding my gaze as he spoke. "Tina didn't say goodbye, but it's not because she didn't value you. She couldn't say it because she loves you."

Without thinking, I stood on my tip-toes and wrapped my hand around his neck to pull him down for another kiss, harder than the first, but just as worthwhile. "Thank you. That was the perfect thing to say. Boys like you break girls' hearts." I laughed. "What did you do at the arcade last night? Read a book on how to treat girls right?"

"I'm only interested in one heart," he said, holding my gaze, and lowered his voice. "No breaking."

"Good answer." I smiled, the first genuine smile since before I had gone to Tina's. "You have it, by the way. My heart. I don't know how fast these things take, but I don't care. I can't help it."

"It's not too fast," he whispered, his lips hovering just over mine, so close I could feel his breath mingling with my own. He looked up towards the ceiling without lifting his head from mine, and then back down with a smile, and said, "Well, maybe it's a little fast, but we can do stuff—other stuff—slowly."

"Is that what you want?" I asked, and he raised his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. "Right. Of course, it isn't. Does 'slow' even compute to your language?"

His hands dropped to my hips and he squeezed. "Let's blow off class."

"Tempting, really, but I can't." I shook my head, trying to dismiss the appeal of his suggestion. "I want to—"

"No one would even know," he persisted.

"Except my parents, who have probably been checking my attendance since that is what I was just grounded for, remember?"

"They won't find out. Tell them you're upset about Tina."

"I can't lie, David—I'm as good at that as a drunk showing their cards at a poker table. Give me something based on truth, and maybe I could get away with omitting the rest," I said. "They'd know, and I'll be grounded again, and then we would be spending no time together at all."

He smiled, a twinkle lighting his eyes. "I'll see you in the gym."

He kissed me again, leaning down to cup my face in his hands as though to savor the moment, which was even better than all that came before. I felt light-hearted and breathless, already anticipating the next time, even as he kissed me once more before walking away.

I watched until a voice broke through my silent appreciation.

FORTY-SIX

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"What?" My smile faded, and I turned.

Blinking, I looked up in confusion and then surprise to find Suzie beside me. Memories flashed of my best friend from a previous life, before cheerleading and popularity and the constant need to 'fit in', which, in her case, meant making others feel bad about themselves so she could feel good. As if aspiring to make my point for me, every blonde hair was in place in a high ponytail, but for the second time that I could remember over the last year, she was alone.

I looked around, waiting for someone to jump out and laugh at me. After a minute without a response, I shifted my weight on the balls of my feet, and asked, "What? Do I have toothpaste on my shirt or something?" I looked down to be sure. "Why are you talking to me? Don't you have a whole squad of cheerleaders to be idolized by?"

Suzie was never friendly anymore, and if she was, it came with a 'Buyer Beware' sign emblazoned across her chest.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry your friend moved away," she said, appearing sincere.

She kept her gaze centered on me, even when I rolled my eyes and looked to the door of our class on my right-hand-side. Sighing, I pushed past her to sit at my usual desk. If I looked up, would I find a spark of humor in her eyes? Was she talking to me as part of some cliquey joke I wasn't privy to? Was I a punch line?

Undeterred, Suzie followed close behind and avoided her usual desk to stand beside mine. "Look, I'm sorry. It sucks. If you want to talk, call me, okay?"

She dropped her phone number on the top of my desk like somehow, I'd forgotten it even though I still had her listed in the contacts in my phone and sat in the desk behind me. I twisted in my seat and glared back at her. Seriously, what did she want?

"Why do you care, Suzie? You hated Tina."

Her eyes darted around the room and then she leaned forward to whisper, "I know why your friend left, okay? If you want to talk... Just tell Tina she's not alone, but he'll never be back," she said, nodding. "Mr. Tinsley, I mean. He's in jail now, which is exactly where he belongs."

My eyes widened as it all fell into place. The way she'd been so upset when he left, going after Tina, how aggressive she'd been. Suzie was never alone. "I think that, uh... I should be asking you that, actually, if what I think happened, happened. He did that? To you?"

She tucked a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear and looked like she was about to come out with something sarcastic. Before she could respond, I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and put it on the desk behind me.

She hesitated before taking it, and then said, "Thanks. I, uh... no. Mr. Tinsley didn't touch me, Aly, if that what you're implying. I just know what he did and how many girls he hurt, and not just here."

"What?" I leaned forward, placing both of my palms on her desk. "How do you know?"

"Does it matter? He's gone." She shrugged and pinched her lips together.

So is Tina.

If nothing else, what happened with her had taught me not to pry. I was so close to breaking the cycle, I couldn't chance adding another puzzle which would send me back to square one, dying until I got that right, too. If Suzie wanted to talk, I would listen. Otherwise, I was keeping my nose where it belonged.

"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you, Suzie. I wish that Tina was stronger, but I'm glad that it's over," I whispered out the side of my mouth so that nobody would hear. "Even though Tina isn't here to say it, I know that she'd be grateful to you."

She nodded and then looked up. A smile started to spread, almost as bright as the fluorescent lights over our desks, and she grabbed her books to move. As she stood to trade seats, she whispered, "Your boyfriend is hot, by the way. Good job."

I laughed, covering my mouth with my hand when I noticed David standing there. "I know, right?"

Suzie laughed, winked at David, and joined her friends as he sat in the seat she vacated.

He cast a curious glance at Suzie and then looked back to me. "What was that about?" Smiling, he raised one eyebrow and cocked his head. "Friends once more?"

"It's nothing. Growth? I don't honestly know." I laughed. "I wouldn't say friends, though. She was just saying hello, I guess."

"Every relationship starts with an introduction."

"Seriously? Where is the book you read? I want to see it." I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers, laughing. "You're like, freaking Obie Kenobi or something today."

"No book for you." He tugged playfully at my hair, grabbing and holding my fingers when I tried swatting him away. "So, the secretary is out sick today, and I couldn't switch my class. Kind of sucks there's no more library first thing."

"There's always gym class and lunch."

"Don't forget about right now," he said, his thumb rubbing against my palm. A shadow came into his eyes and he looked away so that I couldn't see.

"Yeah." I nodded, and when he looked back at me, the shadow was gone. "But subs are fun."

The door opened, swinging wide to crash against the wall behind it with a thud that echoed. I turned around, my mind stuck on David as completely as his touch was real. Tilting my head back so that I was looking at him upside-down with my chin facing the ceiling, I groaned, and said, "Having a spare is better."

"I'd rather skip class and spend my time with you," he whispered in my ear, and then yanked on my hair again before I could slap his hand away.

David pointed to the front of the classroom when I tried to turn, refocusing his attention on the teacher who was introducing herself over the chatter everyone had resumed. She was nervous, her hand shaking as she wrote her name with large cursive letters on the whiteboard. Mrs. Neault didn't look old enough to have finished school, let alone teach it, but judging from her nerd suit, she'd probably skipped a grade—or five. Who wore tweed? And was she even old enough to be a Mrs.?

She managed to instruct us for five minutes, and that was only because there was a lull in the conversation between students. As soon as a new topic was thought of, Mrs. Neault was cut off mid-sentence, but she never called for order or raised her voice to speak overtop of us. I spent most of the period making eyes with David, and when we weren't doing that, we were talking. Or I was facing forward, pretending to pay attention when I was all too aware of his touch pulling my hair or stroking my palms.

When the bell rang at the end of class, I couldn't recall anything she'd said, or if it was important. My thoughts were focused only on David and his lingering touch, the way the thought of him made me feel. I was happy that the bell signaled the end of class—just two hours until we could be alone—and I hated that we'd have to spend the next hour before gym apart.

"Are you sure you don't want to play hooky with me?" David pulled me close once we cleared the doorway. "I don't want to wait for lunch to be able to do this again."

"I'll see you in the gym."

"Yes, but we won't be alone."

"I want to..." I chewed on my lip, indecisive.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and I closed my eyes, lost in happiness I didn't know I could feel. "But?"

My back hit the wall, his breath brushing my ear as he leaned forward. I nearly said yes. What was an education in comparison to the way his touch felt? Even without the creep factor and porn of Mr. Tinsley's class, no sex education class could teach this. Wonder, excitement, toe-curling happiness that sent shocks through my nerves with the anticipation of our next touch because nothing would ever be enough.

"I don't want to get grounded." On the upside, being away from him would make seeing him that much more appealing, not that I needed an incentive.

He hooked his finger under my chin and tilted my head towards him, bringing his mouth down. His body fit against mine perfectly, with just enough pressure to make me aware. My hand slid up the muscles of his arms and dug into the hair at his nape.

It was intimate, yet on display—too public to do what I really wanted. My back arched, and my temperature rose. When he pulled away, I nearly lost my balance.

"What, uh..." I cleared my throat and licked my lips, relishing the taste he'd left behind. "What was that for?"

"I will see you in the gym, Alyssa Frank." He winked with a smile and turned to walk to class in the opposite direction than mine.

"You're a tease!" I called, remembering too late that we weren't alone.

The students in the hall looked at me and smiled, and I could see David's shoulders shaking with laughter, though he didn't turn around. It's too bad he hadn't asked me to cut class one last time.

I would have said yes.

FORTY-SEVEN

The Brothers

The Mortal Realm

I'd never disregarded direct orders before, especially not any originating from the Sisters. This week—this girl—had thrown me for a complete spin. Thousands of years filled with obedience, no questions, and no deviation, and now I found myself acting like a boy in the midst of the pubescent fascination of a girl.

But love was neither adoration nor a mistake.

Spending those last few minutes with Alyssa despite my orders to the contrary had been worth everything. It was the piece of us that I would be able to hold onto and treasure in the absence of there being an "us"—my most cherished memory. Sure, I'd gone to class instead of the back doors of the school, but it was the Sisters' plan. If they hadn't foreseen far enough into the future to account for my deviation, they didn't live up to their responsibilities. I could still reach the goal if I hurried, even if it meant punishment.

Alyssa deserved happiness and I had earned a reprieve. Not only was she better than what my kind thought of humans, but Alyssa was also purer than us all. My last-ditch effort to sway the outcome by trying to coax her into a lie, thus making her unworthy of the destiny she seemed to carry, had failed. Deep down, that made me happy, to know she remained as pure as the light shining within her suggested, but I was also sad.

There would be no way out of what was meant to happen next.

Our final kiss would sustain me for thousands of years to come if I didn't fall first, though I doubted I could wait until it was truly her end for Death to reunite us.

FORTY-EIGHT

Alyssa

Rushing out of the locker room after gym class, I ran up to Suzie and asked, "Have you seen David?"

"Who?" She glanced to her right to look at me but didn't slow her pace.

The only thing I hated more than her model thinness and flawless beauty was her model height. That is, assuming I ignored what she did and how she spoke. But when she walked fast, it was hard for my short legs to keep up with her long strides. At least when we had been friends she had made the effort to slow down so that I wouldn't endure a workout when we went places, even if it was just walking through the halls at school.

"David. My boyfriend? He was supposed to be in the gym with us."

"Right—the hottie," she said and nodded. "I saw him a while ago, yeah. Just before gym class started, I think."

"Where?"

She stopped, almost causing the group of freshmen behind us to slam into her, and her gaze flitted upwards as she tried to recall whatever she'd seen. "Uh, I think he was by the weight room, heading out the back doors."

"By the woods?" My stomach dropped. Already breathless from chasing Suzie, it felt like I couldn't breathe at all. "A-are you sure?"

She nodded, pinching her lips, completely oblivious to what I was feeling. She smiled like she was doing me a favor. "Positive. I never miss a pretty face."

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

Suzie rolled her eyes, waving her hand in the air between us. "Well, yeah, but looking at other guys is how I appreciate the one I got." She shrugged. "Deryk is fine with it as long as my looking doesn't turn into touching." She laughed. "Just don't tell him I said that, because the last time I did it in front of him, he wasn't as 'understanding' as he'd said he would be."

"Huh. Well, thanks for your help," I said, rolling my eyes at her logic. There wasn't a guy alive who could make me want to look at him more than I wanted to look at David, and right now, continuing this conversation was stopping me from making sure he was okay.

Pivoting on my heel, I felt Suzie watching me as I began navigating through the hallway towards the back doors. My steps slowed during the final stretch, apprehension screaming at me to stop, reminding me that today was D-day—again. But I could do this. If I stayed clear of the woods, the rocks, and the Elixir students.

If I saw them—even their shadows—I would run back to safety.

When I reached the door, I hesitated, needing to gather the courage to walk through. The memories of the events leading to my first death were still so fresh, too vivid to cast aside. I might be okay with the field and the woods, but seriously. It was D-Day. My feelings for David were stronger than my fear, but I wasn't stupid. Getting my mind to tell my body to walk into what it knew would lead to danger wasn't something that I could do without pause.

I pushed open the door, immediately bathed in sunlight so bright it blinded me.

"David?" I called, trying to visor my eyes with my hand. "Are you out here?"

I scanned the edge of the woods and sighed with relief. Nothing. The field, with freshly cut lawns that made me want to spit its mossy taste from my mouth, was empty. My brow furrowed in confusion and I stepped out further. The door escaped my grasp and I turned too slow to catch it before it slammed shut behind me.

The lock clicked into place.

Licking my lips, I stared at the door and then nodded, gaining the courage to turn away. I took a deep breath and looked down, and then forced my head up. It's just an empty field. At least all the warm weather this time around allowed the lawns to be mowed. That had to be a good sign.

"David?" I called again, starting towards the right side of the building, wanting to get away from where Josh and his friends had found me the first time around. "Where are you?"

Was I crazy to think he was out here? Resorting to talking to myself to keep my thoughts from becoming clear? No. I jerked my head to the left to look towards the woods and then paused to listen. Nothing except the wall and gate, closed for the first time since I could remember, was out there.

It's just your imagination, I told myself and began walking again. Dust rose in the air with each step as I kicked at the ground. David had seemed so different, but in the end, he was like any other guy. Not that I had much to compare it to, but I watched T.V. David was just as inconsistent as all the heartthrob's girls oohed over, and considerate only to himself. But if he was like all the other guys, he would have stuck around until he had gotten a lot further in our relationship—taking it easy would have never been mentioned.

How could I lose faith so quickly?

He had done so much to prove himself and nothing to make me question him. It's not like he knew I was looking for him, though he'd have to be an idiot not to guess after that missing gym class. If this was where my thoughts would go whenever I didn't know where he was, I never wanted to be apart.

My thoughts were like a rollercoaster: up and down, up and down.

He found somebody better.

Is he okay?

What if he's hurt?

Rounding the corner, I heard the sound I thought I'd imagined again, only this time it was louder, more distinct. Grunting. The direction it came from was clear now, and before my brain registered what was in front of me, more reflexive than instinct after the times I'd failed to use it, my phone was in my hand and my fingers were dialing for help.

"David." Everyone turned to look at me, and I froze with my mouth still hanging open.

Swallowing, I darted my eyes around the group gathered and tried to hurry my fingers across the keypad without looking away. All five of the students who'd tortured me were there, the largest—meanest—squared off against David.

Josh.

"Alyssa, go inside!" David screamed, distracted.

Josh, who was just as big and burly as I remembered, took advantage and swung, his hand connecting against David's jaw. David twisted sideways and fell to his knees, blood splattering the air, and then he looked down and spat a mouthful onto the ground.

"David!" I took a step forward.

"Don't come over here, Alyssa," he said, pulling his torso up and raising his hand in the air while he crawled to his knees to spit on the ground again. He looked up, his eyes pleading. "Go inside."

He sounded desperate, like having me see this was worse than having to deal with degenerates in the first place. But I knew who these kids were. If David thought he would withstand their attack until a limit of brutality no human conscious could cross without incentive was reached, he was wrong. This group, their leader, had no limits. Killing me had suggested that, though it was questionable if that would have happened if they hadn't been blitzed out of their minds.

Looking down at my phone as it began to murmur with voices, I lifted my hand to my ear. "Please send officers to Royal Academy, on the right-hand side of the building. We're being assaulted by five of the students from Elixir High School. Three of their names are Josh, Sarah, and Duke. Oh! And Christa. I don't know who the last one is, but I'm pretty sure that two of the boys are who you had at the—"

Josh, moving faster than someone his size should be able to accomplish, grabbed my phone out of my hand, along with a fistful of my hair, and threw it to the ground, crushing it to parts beneath his foot. My mind flashed to the memory of being dragged across the ground, watching as my hair fell through the air after being ripped from its roots, and I screamed. Pain shot up my back as though the memory brought back the agony of my flesh on my back being scraped away by the rocks on the ground.

"Bitch. What the hell did you do?" he snarled, the acrid stench of his breath hitting my face like I'd stuck my head into a bowl of musty, week-old beer someone had blown smoke into using a straw so that it bubbled from the bottom-up.

FORTY-NINE

He grabbed my shirt, pushed me away, and then pulled me back so fast my neck whipped forward and back. My chin hit my chest as he twisted the fabric in his fist to keep me at arm's length.

"W-what are you t-talking about?" I choked. Keep them talking. Play dumb. Buy time. Just keep them distracted until the police arrive. Coughing, I felt like I was about to pass out. "I c-can't... breathe."

"What did you say to the cops? Why did they take us in for questioning?" He shook me again, and my head moved like a bobble. "What did you say?"

"Get your hands off her!"

David barreled into Josh from the side, forcing me out of his grasp, and stood defensively in front of me. My legs crumpled, all of my energy sapped, and an oomph escaped as I fell. He looked down, watching as I struggled to pull myself up from the pile I landed in but wasn't willing to move away from the position that kept me most protected. When I managed enough energy to rest my weight on my elbows, I glanced up, forcing a smile, weak but reassuring. Our eyes locked and his flared with concern and rage, and I could have sworn I saw the image of flickering flames, gold with white burning at the center.

His anger turned to a moment of regret, instantly concealed with love, and I looked back down, trying to catch my breath while watching for movement out of the corner of my eyes. I could feel where the collar of my shirt chafed my skin and hoped that I wouldn't look like a hanging victim from an attempt gone awry. Did those kinds of marks ever fade? Or would it be the kind of thing that remained, although subtle, for people to question me about for the rest of my life? No, I did not attempt to kill myself. I was attacked, you see.

Right.

Like anyone would believe it.

I shook my head and looked up as David turned back to Josh and stepped forward, pointing his finger in the boy's face as he said, "If you ever touch her again, I'll—"

Josh jumped up, roaring, and charged David in what seemed like a single motion, the action snapping my attention back into focus. David, unprepared, sailed backward. I gasped, following the movement with my eyes as his body arched and then began a downward descent. His gaze met mine, filled with an apology, as his arms and legs wind-milled through the air. I screamed and began to scramble with my hands and feet to stand, but only ended up crawling in slow motion.

He landed hard, overtaken by gravity, and his head cracked against the brick wall like an egg in preparation of an omelet.

Then there was nothing—no sound, no breathing, no movement.

We all froze, stuck in the silence but for the inhale and exhale essential to living echoing in my ears as though I just finished running a 10k marathon while being forced to breathe through a straw.

*****

A minute passed, but it felt like forever, every second ticking by with an exponent of a gazillion degrees.

My voice found traction, and a shrill scream pierced the silence, propelling everyone into action. All the Elixir students—except for Josh, who remained as unmoving as a formation of rocks soldered together—started to yell at each other. Soon Sarah began to sob into Bitchy's arms as she stared forward, blank, the smug look of superiority finally wiped away.

I flew to David's side with tears streaming down my face. The other two boys ran forward to help but sat back without leaving when I growled at them, the sound low and threatening like a mother bear protecting her cub. But David still hadn't moved, and I couldn't tell if he was breathing. I put my hand to his neck, trying to find a pulse, and felt the warmth of liquid roll down into the cracks between my fingers. Sitting back, I pulled my hand away and looked down.

Blood.

Looking back to David and then to my hand, everything inside me dropped to my feet, my body fluid with a heavy, indestructible base. Kind of like the grass that surrounded us, rooted to the ground but swaying with the wind. Completely without control of its motions. With my hand still held in front of me, I looked up, narrowing my gaze on Josh. As if sensing me, he slowly tore his gaze from what he was responsible for and looked at me. I screamed, and just as he had done to David, charged, jumping to my feet and bending at the waist to hit him head-first in the gut.

"Ahh! What did you do?"

A grunt sounded upon connection, but Josh didn't move. He didn't fight back or yell or try to subdue me. I rose to my full height and screamed once more, hitting him over and over again in the chest with my fists. My arms started to weaken, my hands opening to land palm-first, and the tears cascading down my face made my screams choked, garbled.

"You killed him! Murderer!" Giving my arms a break, I started kicking Josh in the areas I thought would induce the most pain—twice in the shin, once at each ankle, and then hooked my leg behind his knee as I raised my other to knee him in the groin, fueled by seeing him fall. "What the hell did you do?"

"Stop."

I turned around and punched Josh's friend in the face, and then circled, kicking Josh in the stomach. Raising my arm, I slapped him across his face and reached back to do it again, ignoring the sting in my hand. But before I could swing, the other boy came to help the first, and together they pulled me away, still kicking and screaming.

"You killed him! Why?"

"Stop fighting," Duke said, wrapping his arms around me from behind to lock my arms at my side. "Listen to me."

The other boy rounded to face me, and I spit at his feet. He grabbed my face in his hands and pulled me forward, nodding as he widened his eyes and spoke slowly, saying the same thing over and over. "David isn't dead. Stop fighting. Your boyfriend is moving. He's not. Dead."

"Let me go," I cried, wiggling left and right, and then pulling forward to gain momentum as I thrust back, knocking the back of my head against his nose.

His hold dropped as he reached up. The other boy side-stepped to the right, putting himself between me and Josh, but he meant nothing to me anymore, not after the boy said David wasn't dead. I pivoted, running to my left, and fell to my knees at David's side, once again reaching out.

Josh proved his cowardice moments later. His eyes bulged, then narrowed as he watched my hand pull away from David, slick with blood and matted hair. At the tips, still attached to the roots of his hair follicles, were chips of his scalp. I looked up in time to watch him dart his eyes around once more and then run into the woods moments before the police arrived.

Why could they never make it in time?

Why hadn't I called them before heading out the back doors? I know I said that I didn't want to die for anyone else, but why did it have to be David? Why, why, why wasn't it me? It was supposed to be me!

"Alyssa." David's eyes twitched but remained closed.

"Shh. Don't try to talk." I took hold of his hand and ran my finger down the side of his face, leaving a trail of his blood like warriors that used paint before a battle. My stomach lurched, but I refused to look away, and his lips curved upwards at the corner.

"Don't cry."

"Shh," I said, trying to squash the sound of my sobs.

I bent down and kissed his cheek and then the corner of his lips. Shifting, I pushed my hair out of my eyes and lay on my side beside him, wanting to be as close as possible. The blood pooling under him felt warm, seeping into my clothes along the left side of my body, but still, I couldn't leave.

"Help is coming, okay? Don't talk. J-just don't move."

"That's good." He nodded.

"Puh-lease," I choked. "Don't move, okay? Y-you probably don't feel it, but your head... Y-you hit your head, and I—it is hurt really badly."

"I know." He opened his eyes, his gaze clear, and focused on me. He looked accepting, expectant. "I'm meant to die for you, Alyssa Frank."

"You're meant to...?" I swallowed, the way he said my name registering in a fading memory. "No. It's supposed to me. I'm meant to—"

"—live," he finished. "You are meant to live. A balance must be kept."

"No." I shook my head and licked my lips. "You're wrong."

He squeezed my hand. "Yes, I love you," he whispered. "I'm not allowed to, but God help me, I do."

I wiggled closer and kissed him again, tasting the salt of my own tears mixed with the iron of his blood. "I love you. Please don't leave me, David. Please. Don't go."

"Miss? Are you okay?" I looked up into the face of a young paramedic studying me from head-to-toe, her black curly hair pulled back and tied at her nape. She nodded down to David and then held my gaze, speaking with deliberate calm, "You need to move so we can help your friend."

David squeezed my hand again, pulling my focus back to him. "Do... good things, okay?"

I nodded and kissed him before stepping away. "I love you." I leaned forward once more and kissed him, my lips trembling with the sobs I was trying to contain. "I'll follow you to the hospital, okay? Just hang on, do you understand? Please, just fight. Fight for me—for us."

His hand fell from my grip to land limply on the ground, the only power remaining in his lifeless body that which could crack my heart into bloody, irreparable shreds, and split my soul.

FIFTY

My vision became tunneled. The sun faded, melting in the sky like wax dripping down the sides of a burning candle. Instead of hardening at the base, it misted to pool as a heavy fog that settled across the side of the school. It blanketed us with its warmth, feeling oppressive. The sobs I held tore through my body and the paramedic pushed me to the side as she called out orders to her partner, but I couldn't hear her words. David's sightless eyes stared up at me and I knew before they pronounced it.

He was dead.

I dropped to my knees and leaned forward, placing my palms down in front of me for balance. Feet bustled by the edges of my vision and all sound became muffled like everyone was yelling and I was resting at the bottom of a twelve-foot-deep pool in the center of it all. The only thing I knew was that David was dead, and the one thing that remained without shadows were his open eyes; blank but blue, and clear even in death.

Another set of feet walked by in front of me, and then the paramedic's partner squatted down, blocking David from sight. I tried to look right, then left, but the woman who had made me move away came around to hunch down beside her partner as they prepared the gurney. A man in a suit joined them, and whatever he said made them stand, then step aside. I lowered my head, managing to see David's eyes between the bars of the folded-down gurney.

After a short conversation with the suit-clad man, the paramedics retrieved the gurney, and as it was rolling away, someone came up from behind and placed their hand on my shoulder. I jumped up, turning, and raised my hands. The uniformed officer took a step back, shook his head, and put his hands out in front of himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, and the tension in my body released. "Miss, did you see what happened?"

Without turning my body, I shifted so that I could glance back at David over my shoulder.

"Miss?"

Looking back, I followed his gaze as he nodded to another officer standing beside the man in the suit. The other man nodded in return and then walked over to David, bending at the waist to reach out and lower his eyelids. When he stood, he hooked his finger in the air and focused on the man in the suit jotting notes in a flipbook.

"We need this covered up, Jim," he said, lowering his arm to gesture circles in the air around David. "Students will be let out soon, and..." He looked back to the officer at my side and nodded. "We need to cover it up."

I opened my mouth, darting my eyes between them as they glanced at me, and then focused back on the officer who'd spoken to me. "What are they doing?"

"This is a crime scene now, Miss," he said. He reached out his arm and motioned for me to walk to the right where the four remaining Elixir students had been gathered. "Come on. How about we go talk and let them do their job?"

"But—why?"

"Miss—"

"What's the point of all this? Josh did it! He killed David, and where is he now? Are you looking for him?" I pointed to his friends. "Ask them what happened! They were all here!"

"Did you see what happened?" the officer asked, ignoring my outburst. His brown eyes narrowed, more with disbelief than concern, like for some reason, because I was covered in blood, I would be too traumatized to be trusted. "Can you give us a statement?"

I laughed, feeling like a ball of pressure exploded inside my chest. "A statement? Really? How about, 'The police arrested the person responsible for attacking people and let him go, and now someone else is dead?' How's that?"

"I'll tell you what happened," Sarah said with surprising bravado, breaking from the group to walk over as we approached. Christa—the girl who seemed as vicious as Josh—stood with her, nodding her own compliance. "She really wasn't here. She just arrived. I think he's her boyfriend."

The officer nodded to them and then turned back to me, folding his arms to stare down at me. "What's your name?"

Swallowing, I looked at Christa and Sarah, and back to the officer, feeling small as I had to tilt my head back to make eye contact. "Alyssa," I mumbled and glanced down to study my feet. "I'm A-Alyssa Frank."

"Do you have somebody who can take you home?" he asked.

"I—my parents are at work." I shook my head and looked back to David, where another group had arrived to set out markers and start taking photographs. Swallowing, I glanced to the ground and then to the officer. "I want to go to the hospital."

"The paramedics said you weren't hurt."

"I'm not." I crossed my arms. "I'm going to follow the ambulance."

"Honey, your boyfriend is—"

"Dead?" I finished, looking up to meet his worried gaze with my blank one, and then back to the ground, all the bravado I tried to erect collapsing as my voice cracked. "I kn-know."

The officer came to stand beside me, raising his hand to rest on my shoulder. "He won't be taken to the hospital. The coroner... Your friend will be brought directly to the morgue, Alyssa. I'm sorry, but if you talk to his parents, maybe—"

"H-he—I never met them."

Fresh tears began to fall. I backed up five steps and squatted. My head fell to my knees and my arms wrapped around my shins. I couldn't breathe, all the moments I'd shared with David running through my mind, and the pain spread outwards from my core until I felt like my stomach was being ripped from me through my mouth.

It's supposed to be me.

"Okay, Alyssa. What's your parents' number?"

"H-her friend," I said between shaking sobs, "wr-wrecked my phone."

"You can use mine," he said, already reaching for it.

"No," I said, and lifted my head, trying to blink away the tears and control the involuntary trembling my body seemed keen to continue. My parents couldn't see this. Nobody should have to see this. "I-I'll get a ride."

I pulled myself up off the ground, my hands shaking as I noticed the blood was still wet. I looked down at my clothes to see the red that stained them and could only imagine what my hands had left on my face and in my hair.

"Alyssa?"

"Huh?" I looked blankly at the officer. "I'm just going to go wash my hands. Is that okay? Can I do that?"

"Yes, though we'll need your clothes, and obviously, your phone. Do you have anything to change into?"

"My phone's dead now, somewhere in the field." I looked back down to my hands for a moment, and then balled them into fists at my side, and held the officer's gaze. "Can I go home? I'd rather change there and then give you the clothes?" I glanced at David and took a deep breath. "I want to go home now. Please."

I kept my eyes forward, no longer intimated by the fact that my head barely reached his shoulders, as the officer hesitated and then signaled to the man in the suit. He typed something into his phone and waited for it to beep with a response, and then looked at me and nodded.

"You can go," he said, and pulled a card from his front pocket, holding it out until I took it. Nodding to the man in the suit, he added, "Jim—that's the detective over there—will be by to speak with you and your parents. Change as soon as you get home and put your clothes in a plastic bag, okay? We'll need to gather it as evidence."

Nodding, I turned away, running back to the school before he could change his mind and tell me that they wouldn't let me leave unless I was released to a parent. Maybe he thought I was eighteen and in charge of myself? I wasn't hurting anyone by not correcting a question he hadn't asked.

I pulled open the doors where a crowd had gathered. Everyone parted to let me through, gaping at me in shock and blatant but thankfully silent, curiosity. Not one person spoke, not even a whisper, and they all allowed me to make my way to the bathroom without hassle.

FIFTY-ONE

With everyone gathered in the hall trying to find out what was going on outside, the girls' washroom was empty. I let the breath I'd held walking through the halls out. My shoulders slumped, and I stepped towards the wall of mirrors above the three sinks in front of me, jumping when someone banged against the door. Pausing to look back, once again holding my breath, I waited, but nobody entered.

A minute passed. When still no one interrupted, I made my way to stand in front of the mirrors with my head hanging. Taking a deep breath in, counting to four, and then exhaling, I looked up, confirming that I looked worse than I had imagined when everyone I passed had stared. Covered completely along one side, with smears and handprints all over my face and in my hair, I looked like a walking contrast of good vs. bad. The angel and devil that sat on shoulders—or like I'd gone to slaughter and survived.

Darting into a stall, I emptied my stomach, but it didn't help. The taste of tears and blood mixed was still strong on my tongue, and I felt as empty as I had since the moment David's hand fell limp to the ground. Sitting back from the toilet bowl, I slowly got to my feet and backtracked to the sink. I pulled out a handful of paper towel from the dispenser and folded it, turning on the faucet. But when I held it up to wash away the blood on my face, all I could see were the stains on my hands.

The door to the bathroom opened and then closed.

Pausing, I watched in the mirror as the door opened again, never enough to form a crack, and then closed. Shaking my head, I dropped the paper towel and turned the water on cold, bending at the waist to splash it on my face. The door opened and closed again, and I ignored it, knowing that now the shock was wearing off, the curiosity began seeping in as the girls from the hallway kept peeking inside to get a look at the blood-soaked student. Soon there'd be questions, and the only way to avoid that was to hurry.

With beads of water dripping from my face, mixing with silent tears, I squirted soap from the dispenser into my hands and began to scrub. The water in the sink swirled, diluted from crimson to pink as it drained away. But all that remained of David still stained my hands. I bent over farther, biting my cheek, and started to use my nails. It was my fault. How would I ever scrub that away? Even if I scraped down to the bone, it would never be gone.

David is dead because of me.

Another head poked through the door, the curious girl nearly landing on her face as someone swung it wide from behind her. I flinched, scared of the bombardment. But the girl from behind stepped through, turning her back to me so she could shoo everyone else away. The deadbolt slid home as soon as the door was shut, and Suzie turned to face me, her back resting on the door.

Why hadn't I thought of that?

I looked up, just for a moment, and held her gaze.

Why would she be here? Of all the girls to keep others away, she was the best choice—everyone was too scared to argue. But with our history... Shaking my head, I looked away, once again concentrating on scratching away the dried, crusted mounds of blood. David said he died for me. His blood was on my hands. I'd never be able to scrub that away, which only made me rub harder.

Suzie stood, silent, her eyes scrutinizing me from head-to-toe as though trying to determine how concerned she needed to be. But after a few minutes, she pushed off the door and stomped her way across the bathroom, her mouth pinched into a thin line. "Stop," she said and reached out to take my hands. She turned off the faucet and turned me to face her. "Alyssa, your hands are bleeding."

I looked down and saw the scratches my nails had dug. The tears that I'd held onto for so long outside wouldn't stop falling. The sting of the paper towel being pressed against the open wounds almost felt like a relief, giving me something other than David to concentrate on.

Swallowing, I nodded. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know," she said, and pulled me into a hug, smoothing back my hair.

My hands remained limp at my sides, and I wasn't sure how I should react. If only Tina could see us. I don't know if she'd laugh or be mad. After how mean Suzie was to us, how could I be accepting? But then, Tina didn't know her as I did. She used to be good, the best friend I wish I'd never lost. And considering what happened with Tina and now with David... It didn't matter what she thought right now.

Suzie was here.

Tina was gone, and even though I wanted to be alone, it was the last thing I should be doing.

Who else could work crowd control?

Suzie pushed me lightly away, just far enough so that she could grasp my shoulders and meet my eyes. "Where's your bag? Your keys?"

"In my locker."

"What's the combination?"

"Why?" I eyed the phone in her hand.

She waved it in the air and said, "Deryk is grabbing your stuff while we sneak out there." She pointed to the small window in the room. "He'll take us to your place and one of your parents can come back for your car."

"But..." I shook my head and stepped back, narrowing my eyes. "Why are you here? Do you even know what happened?" Would she care?

She opened her mouth, looking like she was about to say something nasty, but then sighed. Her shoulders slumped, and she said, "I know that someone died, and you didn't. You're covered in blood and David isn't here. Topped with the fact that you were asking me about him earlier and the cops let you leave?" Waving her hand in front of her, she rolled her eyes. "I'm just going to go with deduction here and assume the worst: David is dead.

"But," she said, raising her finger to keep me from commenting when I opened my mouth. "Even if I'm wrong, something happened, and you are covered in blood, so I'm taking you home. You can tell me what went down if you want, but you don't have to. It's totally your call. But you can't stay here, okay? Let's go."

She looked like it was the obvious thing to do, but I couldn't understand. For the last year, we'd barely spoken, and when we did, it was just to trade insults. One friendly conversation—two if her telling me after gym class that she saw David counted—didn't make us friends again. Suzie had no reason to watch out for me, but this girl? This was the girl who used to be my best friend.

Was it worth seeing if this was the start of a renewed friendship?

I nodded to the window. "We won't fit."

"Trust me," she said, winking. "The window is large enough."

"Two, six, and nineteen. My combination is two, six..." Sighing, I looked down to the floor and back to Suzie. "Nineteen."

"Got it." Her hands flew across her phone and I jumped as she snapped it shut. She winced at my reaction and waved it in the air before tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans while backing up towards the window. "Sorry. Deryk's heading to your locker now."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well, Tina isn't here, and you can't be alone," she said, and I couldn't tell if that was an excuse or the only reason she was helping me.

I didn't want to ask.

Less than a minute later she was helping me up onto the ledge and out into the field on the left-hand side of the school, directly opposite where I hoped David's body was no longer present.

With my head and shoulder out the window, I paused just long enough to say, "David was murdered. He died so I could live."

FIFTY-TWO

The Brothers

Celestial Realm

Feeling the pain of a mortal death was nothing in comparison to the agony of knowing I was the cause of Alyssa's sadness. I watched from above, hating myself for what was happening to her, which was only reflected by my own loss at not being able to love her. I wanted to be noble and wished I hadn't been involved, that one of the other Brothers had gone to her instead so neither of us would be suffering, but it wasn't possible—I was too selfish.

If I hadn't gone, we never would have met, and there wasn't anything in any realm that could make me regret that. In time, she would feel better and live a long, happy life filled with a new love. Perhaps, if I fell... but it was too soon. Presenting myself in my true form now would leave me with regrets—she wouldn't notice my existence and I wouldn't be able to see her as I could here. Even if she did notice me, loved me the way she did David, not allowing her time to grieve would result in her feeling conflicted.

It wasn't an option.

"Brother?"

I looked up as the First Brother came into the room to sit at my side, nodding to the wall of water swirling with images I didn't want to see, but couldn't keep from looking for. Glancing back, I sighed. His back isn't turned anymore.

"You're watching her?"

"What did you expect? I need to make sure that she's okay," I said without averting my eyes from the scene. "Nobody said anything to me about her being there when David died." Narrowing my eyes, I turned my head to glare at the First and lowered my voice, "I never would have agreed to this if I'd known."

"We knew that," he said, and paused to let the implication take its full effect. Looking me over, he said, "You haven't reverted to your true form."

I looked down and shrugged, not caring enough to answer. The moment I reverted, this form would be lost forever. After having seen what that had made her feel when Tina left, I couldn't go for good without saying goodbye. Even if it didn't happen in her waking state, and despite the fact that she wouldn't consciously remember it, saying goodbye would bring a sense of closure she didn't even know she was missing.

Annoyed with his presence when I wanted to be alone, I asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You have duties."

"And? I'll get them done. I always do."

Alyssa was crying, alone, and my heart felt like breaking.

"The Sisters are happy." The First rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "Even though you defied them, the outcome is better than expected. You can't plan to experience love or loss or overcoming the adversity she faced."

"They were trying to build her character?" My voice rose, and I met his gaze again, narrowing my eyes to point like lasers. "You let the Sisters use us to treat Alyssa like she's what? Some sort of experiment?"

"No." He shook his head, nonplussed. "She isn't an experiment, Brother. When she turns eighteen, everything she's experienced will be relevant. The more she endures, the better."

"Why?" I crossed my arms. "What could be important enough to warrant such treatment?"

"I'm not sure, but everything—fighting, empathy, pain, love—it all matters when she turns eighteen."

"And you forgot to ask why that might be?" I felt like screaming. "Again, you listened with blind faith and no sense of curiosity? No desire for truth? Why wouldn't you want to know what all this was for?"

None of the Brothers would agree to become involved if we'd known how much pain would have been dealt to the girl. I shook my head in disgust. If this was what it meant to be a Brother now, I wanted no part of it. It was crude, heartless, and not at all just.

"I can't believe you," I said, my voice a whisper. Mimicking him, I leaned forward and leaned my elbows n my knees, sighing. "You should pay more attention to your duties as a leader so that we aren't tricked into following orders that lead our morality astray."

"There was a time you followed orders without question," he reminded. "That's what we are supposed to do. It isn't our place to contemplate the outcome of what we're asked."

"And I thought it was to protect humans that we were created." I turned my head and raised my eyebrow. If that isn't our purpose, what business do we have existing?

"We came first."

I stood, and the image before us blackened the moment I stepped away. "I don't care for your logic, Brother. What happened here was wrong."

"I agree," he said. "We were mistaken to have ever gotten you involved with the girl. Do you even know what love is? What she went through was for the greater good—do not question that. Ever. If you were wise, you'd get back to your duties and forget she exists, because to you, she doesn't."

Turning without a reply, I left the room, allowing the door to slam behind me. The door clicked open behind me and I could feel his scrutiny but ignored it as I started down the hall, the Glory fading as I passed to mute the light where I passed. I kept walking until he was but a memory, knowing I would create a moment to say goodbye before reverting to my former self. It would have to be soon, though. In this form, my duties couldn't be performed.

But I was worried that the memories I had built with Alyssa would fade if I let go of David. While we were together, it was a fool's dream to imagine that they would sustain me for years to come. Now I knew the memories—her laugh, her vanilla-scented hair, the moment she told me her idea of a perfect date near the end of our picnic under the stars would be to go to the hot springs in the caves outside of town—would haunt me. For as long as I existed, having lived for far too long already, being awake would be like a nightmare because it would take away from the dreams where I could pretend she was still a part of my life.

Closing the door to my quarters, I laid on the bed made of cloud, resting my arm over my eyes to block the Glory from within the walls from keeping me awake with its light. I closed my eyes and tried to dream, but my mind was as blank as I'd left the wall for the First Brother.

A tear fell from my cheek, another first in this mortal form—angels didn't cry.

We didn't love, nor hate. But we judged and meddled with humans like it was our right to do so. With my future tied to Alyssa so completely, how was it possible not to question what came next? And once that began, how did I stop regretting all that I had done before?

FIFTY-THREE

Alyssa

We snuck around the school, avoiding the police, and Deryk picked us up from the street instead of the parking lot. The moment he saw me, he jumped out and grabbed a blanket from the trunk of his car and draped it over the backseat before telling me I should duck until we were at least a couple of blocks away. I wanted to ask why he wasn't questioning why they were going so far out of their way to help me, but he never said anything, and I was too numb to form words.

Sneaking around to get away reminded me of how wrong the day had gone, and everything inside of me simply shut down.

When we reached my house, it was still light. Neither of my parents was home, but the light on the answering machine was already blinking.

Suzie guided Deryk to the couch and left him with the remote while she came upstairs and coaxed me into the shower. Telling her what the officer said about my clothes, she ran downstairs to get a plastic bag, and then made sure they were out of sight by the time I was ready to be wrapped tight in a terry robe and placed in bed. The only thing I managed to say before she went downstairs to wait for my parents to arrive was to ask if she would drop the clothes off so that my mother never had to see—I didn't want her to have to imagine what I'd gone through, though I doubted that could be avoided.

My parents woke me when they returned after Suzie explained the details of why the police had called to tell them they should come home. Thankfully, she remembered to let them know my phone had been crushed in the attack, so I didn't have to answer the, "Why didn't you call us instead of the police?" questions. Once they saw that I was alright but too drained to talk, they left me to go back to sleep, leaving the bedroom door open enough so Scruffy could crawl into bed and they would still hear me if I needed them.

During the night I could sometimes hear them outside of my bedroom like my mother was trying to come to check on me and my father kept her from doing it, but as far as I could remember, she never did.

When I woke on Saturday, I knew only that the week had finally played itself out.

As time passed, the memories of the in-between and the voice began to fade no matter how much I thought of it. David was dead. Tina—whose friendship was so out of reach it felt lifeless—was gone. And in a strange twist of fate, Suzie had become my tether to sanity while Tina hadn't made or accepted any contact.

Did she know about David and just not care, or had she cut all ties before finding out?

*****

Over the next week, aside from the hour-long discussion with the detective regarding what I saw, I didn't leave my room unless I had to go to the washroom. The mark on my neck faded within three days, but now I felt like I deserved to bear the reminder of my crime—living. Today was David's funeral and I couldn't go, not that I had the energy. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his sightless gaze accusing me of his death. If it wasn't too far to travel, I doubted the guilt nesting on my shoulders would allow me to attend.

How would I say goodbye when all he deserved was I'm sorry? Not that that would ever be adequate, but still. After all my chances, I finally deserved to face the judgment the voice had always threatened. Why aren't I dead?

I pulled the covers over my head. I had been awake for four hours already today, an hour longer than yesterday. At first, my parents had catered to me, bringing me food that I never touched and paying for me to stream movies that I didn't watch. I wanted to sleep, and it was never enough.

"I'll always be with you."

Pulling the blanket off my face, I looked around without lifting my head, but nobody was there. I'd been hearing odd sounds all week, ever since I got home and stood in the shower to wash the rest of David's blood from my body. No matter how hard I looked, there was never anyone there. The pain and anger I felt—the guilt that plagued me—had finally driven me insane. At least being in an institution would numb the pain with whatever medication I was served to get rid of the 'voices in my head'. A retreat from my feelings would be so much easier than living through the debilitating aftermath of the death of my first—and only if what I felt was any indication—love.

"Aly?"

My mom's voice floated through the open door of my bedroom from the hallway with the same concern she'd committed to since being called home last Friday. My parents didn't know what to do to help. Their daughter had escaped being a victim of a double homicide at school, not that single homicide was any better. Murder was murder. But while I was trying to overcome the loss of David's death and the guilt of knowing he had taken my place, they were dealing with overwhelming relief that it hadn't been me. That left us at odds with one another, unable to find a common ground to connect.

"Aly?" My mom called again and then walked through the door.

I rolled over to look at the wall so that my back was facing her. Perhaps she hadn't seen my eyes? Maybe she'd think I was sleeping and not bother me.

"Aly, your father and I would like to talk to you for a few minutes. Get dressed and meet us in the kitchen, okay?"

I ignored her.

"Alyssa? Do you hear me?" She sighed. "Alyssa Frank, I know that you are awake, so answer me."

I rolled back over and open my eyes to meet her gaze. "I'm tired, Mom. Can't we just talk tomorrow or something?"

"No."

"I'm tired. Please?"

"No." She reached out and pulled the blanket away from me, dropping it in a pile on the floor just out of my reach. "Get up. Come downstairs and talk with us, Alyssa." Lowering her voice, she added, "Come on, honey, you can't stay in bed."

I hit the mattress with my fist and swung my legs over the side of the bed in slow motion until I was standing on my feet, directly in front of her. She reached out and nudged me forward by my shoulders, following behind as I dragged my feet into the kitchen where my father was already seated at the table drinking coffee.

"What is it?" I looked between them and hugged my bare arms across my chest, wishing I'd listened and changed out of my tank top and pink, heart-splattered pajama bottoms.

"Have a seat, Aly," my dad said, and patted the chair next to him opposite the seat my mother now occupied. "We need to talk about school."

The thought of going back to school terrorized me to the point of nightmares. I swallowed and glanced between them. "I want to stay at home."

"You need to get an education, Alyssa. I can understand needing some time, but it has been a week, and you only knew this boy for a week. If you're having trouble with what happened, maybe we should consider therapy?"

"I don't need my head shrunk, Mom. I'll be fine."

"You can't keep staying home," she said. "I know that Suzie has been bringing you your homework, but you can't miss any more school. It's time to go back."

"No."

"Honey, if you don't want to go to Royal Academy, we understand, but if you don't want to go to Elixir... Maybe a boarding school? Your mom and I have decided that distance learning isn't really viable for the number of classes you still need to complete to graduate, and you won't be able to socialize without going to school."

Did they think they could push me into getting more friends and forgetting about David? "I already have friends."

"That's not what we mean," my mom said. "You need to decide between Royal Academy and Elixir, and if you can't do that, your father and I have been looking into other schools that will accept transfers. Boarding schools. With your grades, we can probably get a scholarship to cover most of the extra expenses."

"I'm not ready, okay? It doesn't matter what school I go to—they all have students, right? How many of them are like the idiots from Elixir?" I raised my eyebrow and then closed my eyes to block the surprise they were looking at me with from sight. "Why can't you just give me time?"

"Because you start your senior year right away, Alyssa. You need to attend class and consider your future." My dad's gaze was level as he sipped from his coffee, his emotions masked.

"Do I have to decide right now?" I shifted my weight. This is so unfair. "Can I take a few more days?"

My mother looked at my father. They both turned back to me and nodded.

"We'll give you two days, okay? After that, if you haven't made a decision, we will," my dad warned. "But Alyssa? We'd rather not have to do that."

"Fine." I nodded. "Can I go back to bed now?"

I turned without waiting for an answer and ran back to my room, closing the door behind me to shut my parents out. I picked my blanket up from the floor and climbed back into bed, pulling the cover over my face to block out the light.

In two days, I had to wake up and face the world.

For now, I could sleep.

Punching my pillow and rolling over onto my side, sleep settled quick. My surroundings faded, and I found myself in familiar white fluff. It was soothing, in a way, to go back, though it would be even better if I could bring David back.

A balance had to be kept, he had told me. Did that mean someone had to die? And how had he known? I hadn't said a word. Hell, after this week, I imagined it was really all just a dream—a fantastical, illogical dream filled with medically-induced delusions because I wasn't really at home in my bed. I was in an institution pumped full of sedatives because of some psychosis which had finally made me crack. The people hurt in my make-believe world were all those being protected by keeping me away from freedom.

The space in front of me began to blur and refract the light, but no image formed. Instead, the pliable surface began to contract and contort, distending outward as a shape was molded into human form, completely detaching itself and stepping forward. The substance shifted, gained solidity and color, the features clear. I gasped with wide eyes and covered my mouth with my hands.

It was David.

"No."

"Alyssa Frank." I stepped back. His mouth was moving, but the voice wasn't David's. It was the voice.

"I don't understand." I stepped back again to avoid his outstretched hand from grazing my cheek. "I—I..." Looking to the right, and then the left—anywhere but forward—I shook my head and focused on the clouds at my feet. "What the hell is this?"

"It's me, Alyssa," he said, his mouth lifting at the corners. "David."

"No." I shook my head. "You—you're the voice and this is a really mean, really sick joke. Why would you do this?"

"I promise this is no joke."

I raised my hand to stop him from stepping forward, and then slowly raised my eyes. "You're not David, and I'm going to wake up now."

"But—"

"Don't talk to me!" I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself awake. I was dreaming.

It is just a dream.

"I died so you could live."

My eyes flew open, but he was already gone.

I was back in my room, my pillow wet from tears under my head. My stomach felt hollow, my chest like someone had drilled a hole and filled the cavity where my heart belonged with fast-drying cement. David was gone. Dreams wouldn't bring him back, but they reminded me that he had died for a cause that he believed in, and I had to honor his wish.

He died so that I could live.

FIFTY-FOUR

"So, where do you want to meet for lunch?" Suzie asked as I navigated into a spot in the student parking lot.

Another week had passed, and after my dream, I'd been at school every day. Suzie was becoming an unlikely friend (re-friend?), a self-appointed guardian against gossip and the onslaught of curiosity. It was nice. This was the girl who had been my best friend for so many years.

"Main doors?"

Since deciding to return to Royal Academy, I refused to go out back or the side of the building—anywhere that reminded me of what happened—because if I let myself think of it, I would never make it through a day. If the school was on fire and it was my only escape route, I'd burn.

"How are you doing?"

I shrugged. She'd asked me the same question every morning, and I had yet to answer.

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"The same, I guess. No worse, so maybe a five?"

"There's a party tomorrow at Bryan's house," she said and skipped around to meet me on the sidewalk leading into the school. "Want to go?"

"I thought that those parties were exclusive, as in "invite only"?" I made finger quotes in the air, then slung my bag onto my shoulder and shook my head. "I can't go to one of those."

I stared at my feet as we walked to avoid seeing the people—students, teachers, parents—watching me like I was about to crack. I had become 'The Survivor', while David had become 'The Victim', both in school and in the news. Why couldn't people leave me, and the memory of David, alone? Like there wasn't enough craziness with what happened. I didn't need the constant reminder every time I walked out of my home.

"Bryan is Deryk's best friend, and you'll be coming with me. Of course, you're invited."

"I don't know." Being her friend again had instantly changed my social status—that and surviving the only murder to have ever happened on campus. The novelty would wear off, I knew—or at least hoped—and I would go back to my usual invisibility.

"It's hard, I know." She paused and looked around. "Well, I don't know exactly, but I can imagine it would be hard. I completely understand if you don't want to go. But sooner or later—"

"I have to move on?"

"Not quite what I was going to say, but basically the same party line. It takes time, but baby steps, right? You might not have fun right away. In fact, you'll probably go out at least a dozen times before you have fun."

"That isn't a winning argument."

"My point is that you can't expect to be happy," she said, pausing to wave at a group of friends. She put her hand on my arm to stop me and twisted sideways so that we were facing one another. "You'll have to work at finding happiness again."

"Geez. When did you get wise?" I rolled my eyes and started walking, but then took her by surprise and said, "Fine. I'll go." She was right. I wouldn't find my new happy by hiding in the shadows of my room. "But I want to drive so that I have an easy escape."

"Seriously? You'll come?" She smiled in a way I used to hate, but now found contagious. "I can go with you and head home with Deryk if you bail. Oh, this is awesome!" She jumped in place, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet so that her shoes never left the ground, and clapped quietly.

Maybe for her, it was awesome, but not so much for me. To willingly put me in the clutches of a crowd? I must be crazy. "Can I ask you something?"

"As long as you don't change your mind about Bryan's party."

Her smile widened to reveal her perfectly straight, bleached-white teeth. I pulled open the door to Royal Academy and followed her inside the school where there were even more people to Alyssa-watch than there had been on our walk from the parking lot.

"Why do you want me to go? Being so... nice? You used to be surrounded by people, and this is the first time in two weeks that you've mentioned hanging out with anyone else besides me or Deryk."

She stopped walking to watch me, and I hugged my books to my chest, staring at the floor. "I don't have a single answer to that, Alyssa. I guess, when I realized what Tina went through, I just kinda gravitated back to you. None of my friends would understand. And then David died, and I wanted to help you."

"So you became my friend again out of pity?" That was worse than being alone.

"No. When David died I got to know you again, and now I want to hang out with you because I like you. I've had friends, yeah, but you're the first friend I've had who I can talk to without censoring myself in case it is turned into gossip. I've always known that's how it was between us, but I never really appreciated it before I joined the cheerleading squad. It took a whole year for me to understand the gossip and back-stabbing I had thrown myself into, but I'm sorry that I hurt you by doing that—and everything else I've done since then."

"If it helps, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." We walked to class and sat in our desks. I turned to look at her behind me. "You're a good friend." Tilting my head, I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling, and amended, "Well, at least you have been over the last couple of weeks, so thank you."

Suzie widened her eyes and dropped her mouth, raising her hands to affect a model's mock "surprise flattered" pose. Laughing, she sat straight again, dropping her hands, and smiled. "So how do you feel today?"

I nodded. "Much better. Like, maybe even a six now."

FIFTY-FIVE

"David?" I called out, my voice echoing in my dream as empty as the drum of my heart in my chest. Every time I fell asleep, I came here, the place between life and death, and not once had he appeared to me again. But that hasn't stopped me from getting my hopes up, or from calling for David.

Sometimes I thought I heard him answering me, but a voice in my head didn't soothe the ache his death had left behind. It meant nothing, really, except that I might be going crazy. Considering that's how I felt whenever I talked to the voice, it was kind of fitting. You know, in the I-am-a-nut-but-at-least-I-am-consistent kind of way. Plus, you aren't crazy until someone else verifies it, right?

I wasn't telling a soul about this.

"David?" I called again, louder, and turned a full circle with my hands fisting my hair. "Look, if you're here, speak. Talk to me or stop bringing me here. And don't tell me it isn't you doing this because I know I can't do it—I tried after you died."

Silence.

Turning in a circle, I said, "Fine! I'm going to wake up now, and the next time I go to sleep, you'll stay out of my damn head. Because seriously? You told me to live, and I can't move on and do that—" I sighed, dropping my hands to my side as I lowered my voice "—if I'm brought here every night."

Squeezing my eyes shut against the light, I pictured my bedroom in my mind: the warmth of my blankets, the security, and how everything had its place—neat and tidy, and predictable so long as my mother stayed clear on laundry day. I knew I loved David—every breath without him was hard—but I couldn't live like this. Every time I went to bed, I expected to see him, and every time he didn't show, I woke to feel as though I'd just lost him all over again.

"Goodbye," I whispered and started to feel the pull back to reality.

"Don't leave."

Turning, I opened my eyes and blinked, pushing against the lure taking me from the dream. I held my breath in fear that he would disappear, but he was right here. I could see him, just as I remembered.

Solid.

Alive.

David.

I took a hesitant step forward and then paused, the thrill of his appearance overwhelmed by my irritation. "Where the hell have you been?" Taking another step, I stopped again, lifting my head to stick my chin in the air and glare at him. "Why did you wait to show yourself after bringing me here every night? Do you know how I've felt? You died!"

He smiled and hung his head. "You're mad at me."

I ran over to him and threw my arms around his neck at the same time as I jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands found my hips, holding me close, and kept us both from toppling off balance. His arms, his face, his hair—even the scar along his jaw. I touched every inch of him from the waist up to make sure he was unchanged.

"So you aren't mad?" He looked down at me with hooded eyes and smiled, and I felt the warmth flow throughout my entire body.

"Shut up."

My hands framed his face to pull him near, and I kissed him. I couldn't let go. It all felt so real I never wanted to wake up. I pulled away to catch my breath and rested my forehead against his.

"Alyssa—"

"Shht," I whispered. "Just don't talk. Please."

"I'm sorry." He looked behind him and then to me but kept a distance. "We don't have a lot of time, Alyssa."

Opening my mouth to speak, no sound came out. I blinked, not understanding what the hell he meant, and a gong sounded in the distance. Jumping down, I took a step back, shaking my head, and turned in a circle. What the hell was his problem? He died and came to me, and now he was saying we had to hurry? Seriously? Turning back to him, I took a step and slapped his chest. "Why?"

"Uh..." He tilted his head to the side as though repositioning his ear towards me would help him hear me better. "Why what?"

How could he even look confused? There is no way he could be standing here, a very real part of an unreal dream, and not remember that he was dead. It wasn't just a dream—there's no way. It was too real, too right, and too overwhelming to be a figment of my imagination. David was here. Now. With me.

"Why did you do it? Why did you die for me?" I shook my head and took a step back when he reached out to grasp my shoulders. I pointed to myself and said, "It was supposed to me."

"You were never meant to die, Alyssa," he said with a soft, comforting tone. "I was never meant to live amongst humans and..." He shrugged. "A balance has to be kept."

"Stop talking about the freaking balance!" Why did balance matter? "I don't care about that. Why did you have to die when I was supposed to? It isn't fair!" I stomped my foot and a splash of cloud lifted into the air as if I'd just jumped into the center of a puddle after a storm.

Unlike the aftermath of a storm, though, I was hardly calm.

David took a giant step forward and pulled me close into a firm hug, so tight that I couldn't wiggle free. Did I want to? Not really. But I wanted—no, I needed—answers or I would never be able to come to terms with my boyfriend dying for me. I don't think anything he said could make that better. What kind of person would it make me if it did? I mean, to feel okay with allowing your boyfriend to die for you? Not going to happen.

But what if this was my last chance to see him?

Sagging, I pulled my arms up from my sides and slid them around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest. "God, David, I miss you."

He groaned, the sound strangled. "I miss you." He shifted, holding me closer as he kissed the top of my head.

We stayed like that, my cheek to his chest and his lips to my head, for what seemed like forever, though it was still not long enough. Every second felt like it would be the last, and even though he was solid—I could feel him, breathe in and savor his smell—my stomach sunk with the sensation that he was fading. His death might not have been the end, but the pain it brought was leading to it.

His hold tightened for a moment and then he pushed me away, just enough so that our gazes could meet. "Alyssa, we need to talk."

"You think?" I looked around us for the chair that had been available the second time I'd been brought back and then sat where I stood, folding my legs underneath me. "For starters, why don't you start by explaining everything?"

I waved my hand in the air. "Why did you have to die instead of me, and why did I get sent back? How are you the voice—and don't tell me that you aren't, because I'm not stupid. The voice told me to change things, but never what is expected to be altered, and in the end..." I narrowed my eyes on the blank cloud in front of me, just before David's feet. "I was the only thing that changed." I sucked in a deep breath. "That's it, isn't it? It was me? All those times I was sent back?" I looked up to him. "I had to be what changed."

He paused, crossing his arms as he looked past me into the distance, and then nodded. "Yes." He glanced down and held my gaze. "You weren't meant to die, Alyssa. There—"

"Do not talk to me about balance again," I warned, raising my finger. "I'm sick of hearing about that."

He smiled. "I was going to say there were lessons to be learned by sending you back."

Balance. Lessons. It was the same thing. Looking down, I twisted my fingers to keep from slapping him again—or hitting a ground made of cloud, which would really dilute the serious tone of the conversation and ensure I never received answers. How could I be expected to accept the impossible?

Sighing, I dropped my hands in my lap and looked up at David. "Just tell me who you are."

"Alyssa—"

"Seriously, David." I swallowed and pointed to the empty spot in front of me. "Sit and talk. Now, or I'm out of here. I swear I will wake up and forget this ever happened." If I could forget him, I would have done it already and saved myself a lot of pain. "Please."

"Fine," he said, "but ask one question at a time, okay? And remember we don't have a lot of time, so make them count." He sat, the smile I loved tugging at his lips, making it hard not to give in and kiss him. He spread his arms and then dropped them, reaching out to take mine before resting them in his lap, his thumb drawing circles on my palm. "What do you want to know?"

"Start at the beginning—why was I sent back after dying in the woods? I'll figure out the questions as we go."

"Do you want paper and pen?"

"Don't joke!"

"I wasn't," he said and leveled his gaze on me. "But, Alyssa, I don't know if we have time to start at the beginning. I'm not supposed to be here, and I don't know how long I can stay."

"Then talk really fast." I nodded, smiling. How hard could the truth be? For someone who talked about loving me, it should be as easy as breathing, only he was dead. Did dead people need to breathe?

Maybe the truth would be too much to ask for.

"It's not that easy." He stopped rubbing my hands and entwined our fingers, squeezing once before resting them in the cloud between us. "What do you remember about this place? Why you were brought here?"

I closed my eyes and thought back, each death running through my head like a horror movie playing backward. Lowering my voice with my eyes still shut, I whispered, "I remember why I was here, David. I—I died, and then you died... And then I was all out of chances to fix it." Opening my eyes, I blinked and tried to stop the trembling of my lip. "I'm so sorry."

His finger brushed my tear away and then pushed my chin up so that I was looking at him, and he traced the outline of my lips. His gaze, so blue it was swirling like a fresh-water lagoon, bore into me. "Don't ever be sorry, Alyssa. None of this happened because of you."

"I don't understand any of this." Another tear escaped to roll down my cheek and David winced.

"I wish I had time to explain everything. I don't even know why."

"David—"

A gong sounded all around us, closer than before, and he jumped up, pulling me to stand in front of him. "Alyssa, you have to trust me, okay?"

"Of course," I said, and stepped into his arms, trying to memorize the way he smelled, like fresh rain misting up from an ocean. His death hadn't taken my trust when it had taken him away. "I love you."

"I love you." He kissed me hard, too quickly, and then pulled back to meet my gaze again. "I will do everything in my power to see you again, but I need you to do something for me, okay?"

"What?" I searched his eyes and the clanging sound came again, louder. My stomach flipped, making me want to grab hold of his hand and run far away or hold it so tight he was forced back to reality with me because whatever was happening was about to end. There wouldn't be another dream together. I didn't understand how I knew, but I didn't doubt the truth of my realization.

He looked around, wary, and then pulled me into his arms, holding me so close his voice was barely a whisper in my ear, "Something is special about you. I don't know what they know, but you need to prepare. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

I nodded, my words muffled against his shirt. "I don't know what you want me to do."

"I don't know, either," he whispered, "but do everything you can—defense class, running, studying everything. Whatever you can think to do to prepare your mind and body."

"This is too vague!" I stepped back and gasped. No! Not yet! "Tell me something you actually know and stop fading!"

He looked down at himself and winced as his body began to lose its substance. He glanced back up, his eyes wide as he began to glide backward, fading more and more until he was just an outline of features. "Look, Alyssa, they know I'm here. I don't have any more time. Just do what I told you, okay? Please?"

"Don't leave." Running, I tried to feel his hand but brushed against air. I pushed myself harder to run as fast as I could, hoping to catch up to him before he was gone for good. "David!" Oh, God. I couldn't lose him again. "David! Who are you talking about? Who is taking you? David!"

Another loud clang filled the air and he disappeared.

"You need to prepare, Alyssa."

"David?" I turned in circles, my hands fisting my hair. "David!"

My words fell on deaf ears and, just as David had, the world faded around me. Almost instantly I was back within my room, wide awake with only one thing occupying my thoughts: David wasn't coming back. What did he mean, I needed to protect myself? I rolled over onto my side and swiped at the tears flowing down my face.

Prepare for what?

Why?

Prepare....

*****

I woke in the middle of the night with the word repeating in my head. Dreams were gone, the loss I had cried myself to sleep feeling lessened only by the fact that I had been able to say goodbye. Confusion... Well, that pretty much blew the rest of my emotions out of consciousness, and I jumped up from my bed to search the computer for answers.

If I learned to fight, I could protect myself. Studying would leave fewer questions unanswered. My best friend is gone, but I gained another, and David's death wouldn't go unpunished. Bringing up my email, I clicked the link Suzie had sent me the day before and leaned back feeling an empty sort of satisfaction swell within my hollowed heart.

"Police caught the assailant when he went home after the attack occurred. Names have not been released to the public, but the boy will be standing trial as an adult in a few weeks after providing officers with what is reported to be a full and voluntary confession. No connection to the attack in Border City has been identified at this time. In a public announcement made earlier today, Chief Morrison of the Hidden Springs Police Department said that the assailant for the attack could not be the boy in custody as he was being detained at the time of the incident. He urges citizens to remain vigilant and take safety precautions."

Had it been a coincidence after all?

Maybe, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. I minimized the news report and clicked on the final possible entry of my search, picking up my pen so I could call first thing in the morning. Gus's Gym. All the others I found wouldn't help a girl, not when fighting was illegal as a sport in Hidden Springs. But training to defend myself would make sure I would never be anyone's victim—the pain I felt for David will never be felt by those I love. After all, the press called me 'The Survivor'.

If Death couldn't knock me down, life didn't stand a chance.

EPILOGUE

The Sisters of Fate

In The Void

It was too close a call.

Fate had always been ten steps ahead; this time they had barely managed one.

The Sisters gathered around their round wooden table and watched the hologram flicker to life once the girl had escaped Death's grasp for the final time. The lights flashed blue against the golden lacquer walls to refract spikes of light in the air as Alyssa's future once again became clear, yet limited. Just one more year until her eighteenth birthday, but it would begin so much sooner: the anniversary of her conception.

Acquiring experience didn't leave her protected though. Once the conception date passed, it would begin in earnest, and her uniqueness would start to be sensed. No chances could be haggled, and every choice could be her last.

"Did we do it?" Clotho asked, squirming in her chair, always eager and too impatient. "Did it work?"

Atropos twirled her golden-handled shears and then held them in front of herself so that she could admire her reflection in the sharp, life-ending blades. "I could cut another lifeline? Perhaps force another tragedy to unfold."

"That's all you do, isn't it?" Clotho rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers through the air in front of Atropos. "Oh, look at me! I'm so special. Snip! Snip! I can use... scissors!" She snipped her fingers closed a final time and then slumped back into her chair, sighing as she rolled her eyes. "You think you are so special because you can use those things? I've got a pair of crafting scissors that could do a better job!"

Atropos twirled to face Clotho with fire in her eyes. "I could cut your lifeline, you little—"

"You wish you could find it!"

"Enough!" Lachesis pinched the bridge of her nose. "You two are giving me a headache."

"We don't get headaches," Clotho said and looked to Atropos for confirmation.

"Well, if we did get headaches, I would have one." And she did. Lachesis's secret gifts, unknown even to her sisters, left her with a constant rage in her head that their bickering escalated into unbearable, it's-time-to-black-out-now proportions on a daily basis.

She wanted to crawl into bed.

But she had to check their progress with the girl, just to be sure. Fate had made sure that Alyssa Frank had died to gain the necessary experience she would need, and even though her life could be exchanged, no human could have died in her place. Not even Fate could change those rules. The death of an angel's mortal form satisfied Death's demands for life without killing the soul within.

"What do you girls suggest?" Lachesis raised her gaze to meet her sisters. The collaboration was but a formality to hide behind, a way to keep her secrets hidden for just a little longer. Just as she had always known where the real David had been, she knew what came next.

Atropos and Clotho shrugged in response.

Lachesis sighed, growing impatient. Their time for action was too short to wait. "The girl has been saved but has been left unprotected. How should we solve this?"

It was like sounding out the syllables within a word to first graders. Atropos and Clotho were more like squabbling teenagers than powerful Goddesses who couldn't die, and a disgrace to the legacy of Fate.

"It is a wonder you two have any responsibility to the living at all. Go. Fulfill your duties," Lachesis ordered with a careless flick of her hand. Knowing what she needed to do would be easier done alone.

Atropos and Clotho didn't hesitate. They hustled through the door without handles at the back of the room and returned to their duties—or another argument.

Lachesis didn't move until long after they had left, drumming her nails against the table as she went through her options in her mind, each scenario unfolding separately from the others so that she could determine the most desirable action to take. But, just as she had feared, there was only one decision sound enough to make.

She stood, gliding across the floor in her red pointed slippers so smoothly she appeared to be walking on water without the ripples of touch. The wall at the far right of the room glistened as she approached, reflecting the fire of the hearth that relocated itself behind her. It faded from gold to white to brown, finally transforming into an interactive view of a room so soft it appeared to be made of cloud.

"Brothers." She nodded to the group of angels that appeared, noticing the Second wasn't amongst them.

Just as well.

"I need to speak with the First," she said before their shock over her initiating communications wore off. "Alone."

Their surprise escalated, but not enough to keep them from scurrying away with respect. She appreciated it, but, as only she knew, it would not last.

"Lachesis." The First Brother nodded, taking a step forward once he stood from the bench he had been lounging on. "What brings you?"

"I need your help."

"I'm afraid that I'm rather busy cleaning up after the last time that we agreed to help you."

"Then think of this as an extension of your task."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Does He know of this?"

"No."

"I take orders from Him, Sister, and only from you when He says to do so."

She bit her bottom lip between her teeth. The next step that she took would change everything, and she could never take it back. Was it the right thing to do? Maybe not. But it was the only choice that she had.

"I would like to invite you to my home." She drew in a deep breath. "We need to talk."

"Why?"

"I believe that it is time that I tell you what I know about the girl, the Second, Heaven, and the Darkness that will be here sooner than we can prepare for." She met his surprised gaze with a steady eye. "Once you know what I do, I am certain that you'll agree—even offer—your services to the cause."

"I can't keep navigating the Void, Sister. I barely made it to you the first time, and that's only because I wanted to."

"I have made you an invitation. You can step through this portal and enter my home while never stepping into the Void. And I will send you home in the same manner, so long as you promise to hear what I have to say before denying my request."

"What's in it for me?"

"Saving everyone and everything that you know from being consumed by Darkness," she said, unblinking.

The slit of his eyes widened, and his mouth hung. In that instant, he made his choice. She could see it in the set of his jaw once his mouth closed into a pinched line. The First pulled his hands out of the hidden pockets of his white robe, just inside the overlaying flap in front, and took a step forward, into the portal's door.

Sparks flew and static zinged with flashes of blue-white sparkles like miniature fireworks lighting his way.

Three more steps and he appeared on the other side. With a great sucking noise, the portal shrunk to the size of a silver dime and then exploded like a tiny supernova in the air.

"Have a seat, Brother," Lachesis said and walked with him to the table.

He didn't move. He didn't look around. He focused on Lachesis with a serious, you-better-tell-me-or-I'm-out-of-here glare. With the same lack of emotion, he said, "Tell me what I need to know."

Lachesis sighed. "This is going to take a while, and you must promise this conversation never leaves this room."

"I told you I'm—"

"To be trusted? Yes, well, we will see about that." She pointed back to the table. "I have no choice but to trust you."

Without breaking eye contact, he sat, and she followed to the chair on his right-hand-side, scooting closer so that they could speak in hushed tones.

"Seventeen years ago, give or take a few months, a new breed was conceived. It is pure, strong, and more powerful than even Fate can foresee."

"The girl? She's one of the Pure Souls that belong at Glory Academy?"

"Yes." She nodded. "But what she is will not compare to what she does."

"And what is she going to do?"

"First, let me tell you what we need." She hesitated, waiting for him to nod. "The Second."

"He's... currently unavailable," he said. "As he was unable to fulfill his duties, he was assigned to instruct at the school until such a time comes that he can complete his role once more," he explained. "I don't think it's wise to ask him to help. He's too angry, and I fear he is close to severing his ties to our kind and the importance of his role."

Lachesis nodded, smiling, but her eyes remained downcast. "He will want to help us this time."

"After Alyssa?" The First scoffed and shook his head. "Not likely."

She looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Not even for Alyssa?"

"He's exhausted his mortal form."

"Nevertheless, we need him to protect the girl."

The First shifted in his seat as Lachesis explained what they would soon face, and how, without Alyssa, they would not survive. Everything she needed to acquire and experience and why. He absorbed it all in silence, intent on understanding every word. But despite her revelations, he knew there was more she didn't say. Or couldn't. Lachesis would only confess what she thought he needed to know.

It was enough.

"The Brothers will help in any way we can," he found himself saying when she finished.

"Restore the Second to his duties and then give them away for others to complete," she instructed. They walked back to where a second portal had formed in the same location as the first had been. "Then bring him here. When you are ready, I will open another window, but please hurry."

He nodded, pausing only when she called his name.

"And Brother? I am sure you understand why we will be sharing a very condensed version of the truth with the Second. I needn't remind you what is at stake?"

"You have my word," he said and left.

Lachesis sighed when the portal closed. What she'd told the First had been the condensed version; what they told the Second would be jot notes. She'd had to plan so far ahead just to stay in front and couldn't take the risk of full disclosure. Not now.

If they only knew what Lachesis knew, they'd be too afraid to face it. The life she'd lived full of secrets weighed on her heart, but such was the burden of Fate. Looking at the door her sisters had disappeared through, she knew the weight was hers alone to carry.

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sasha Leigh is a self-diagnosed dreamer. When she isn't stuck in worlds of her own making, listening to characters squabble for attention in her head, she's immersed in stories created by others. A lover of all things weird, Sasha's world is considered complete when she has her daughter at her side, her sketchpad, notebook, and something to write with. Working by day in the insurance industry, she spends her evenings and weekends devouring or writing new tales of magic, mythology, and all things supernatural (except dragons). Visit her at  Goodreads or Wattpad for more details on upcoming releases and sneak peeks.

OTHER BOOKS BY SASHA LEIGH

TWISTED FATE SERIES

(IN READING ORDER)

FATE'S EXCHANGE

PULLED AWAY

FATE'S RETURN

FATE'S DEMAND

FATE'S REVENGE

FATE'S DISGUISE (COMING SOON)

FATE'S ESCAPE (COMING SOON)

UNBOUND SERIES

(COMING SOON)

EMPOWERED

SHADOWED

AWAKENED
