Death and the Girl Next Door

“Positive.”

“Okeydokey, then. We’ll be over later.”

Just like every year, I was apparently still under a suicide watch and would be for the next week. I had to admit, with those two around, I didn’t have time to get too terribly depressed about my parents. Still, the minute they left my company, the sadness leached back inside me, as if it had been waiting all along, lurking in the shadows until it got the chance to slither inside. My dependence on their presence was getting ridiculous. It was high time I grew up and learned to cope with my parents’ disappearance on my own.

With a wave to shoo him inside, I turned and headed toward the library, determined to overcome the blahs all by my little lonesome. The public library stood in the middle of the town square in what was once the courthouse. Though I often went there to read and relax and just catch my breath, I usually ended up chatting with the director of the library, and my grandmother’s best friend, Betty Jo, instead. But what better place to do research? Librarians had an uncanny knack for amassing not only the talk around town, but the talk’s history to boot.

As I approached one of the three stoplights Riley’s Switch had to offer, an overenthusiastic skateboarder decided to stop right behind me. He failed. He tumbled off his skateboard and crashed into me, knocking me off the curb.

After almost twisting an ankle, I turned and stared him down, impatiently waiting for an apology. He was young and Asian with a slight build, which was probably a good thing. I could have been crushed.

“Sorry,” he said as his friends snickered behind his back, joking and shoving one another.

“No problem.” I stepped up and turned back to the light. Freshmen.

An October chill had settled in the air, making me wish for a jacket. My thin apricot shirt did nothing to block the crisp wind, and my capris left my ankles exposed and goose bumpy. I totally should have listened to my grandmother this morning. She always seemed to know what I should and should not wear in an eerie, sixth-sense kind of way.

As I waited for the light to change, the skateboarder, who’d been practicing tricks on a park bench, lunged into me again. I couldn’t believe it. I turned and narrowed my eyes on him, forcing him to mumble another insincere apology between laughs. This was getting ridiculous. Still, as a sophomore, I needed to exude a certain level of maturity. Maybe it would rub off, though not likely.

When I turned back to the light, I heard his friends teasing him, and a pang of empathy stabbed me. I shouldn’t have given him such a cold glare. He was just being a boy.

Probably more to save face than to retaliate against any actual offense, he pushed one of his annoying comrades. The friend pushed back, hard, ramming him into me for the third time.

But this time the force was too great to keep my balance. I stumbled into the street, dropping my backpack and skidding across the graveled road on my palms and knees. Before I could even conjure an emotional reaction, I heard my name behind me, like a whisper on the wind.

I struggled to my feet and turned to see Jared, tall and solid, on the curb where I had just been standing. My breath caught at the sight of him. The breeze tousled his dark hair. His full mouth curved into the suggestion of a smile, just enough for a dimple to appear at its corner. He stepped off the curb and walked to me, an animalistic grace controlling his every move.

Looking down into my eyes, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

I smiled warily. “Shouldn’t I?”

“Close your eyes,” he commanded gently.

I wanted to ask why, but found it impossible to question him. Unable to disobey, I let my eyelids close and lifted my face toward the sun. Its warmth soothed me, but Jared’s presence comforted me as well, lulled me into a state of abandon.

“It won’t hurt, Lorelei. I’ll make sure of it.”

I frowned in question. “What won’t hurt?”

Before he could answer, I felt the impact.

Something very large and very heavy slammed into my body. It ripped me from gravity’s selfish hold, and I flew through the air an unfathomable distance. My body quaked violently when it landed, broke as it slid into a lamppost.

I waited a short time before asking, “Can I open my eyes now?”

I heard Jared kneel beside me. “Yes.”

I peeked and then laughed at the glittering, magical air around me. “This is strange.”

He smiled at me again, a smile that seemed to know everything unknowable. “Yes, it is.” He placed a careful hand on my chest. “Close your eyes again.”

“Uh-uh. Not this time.”

“Please.”

I tried to shake my head, but my neck seemed to be broken. Curiosity drew my brows together. “Am I dying?”

“Yes,” he said, regret softening his voice.

“How odd. I didn’t think it would feel like this. And it’s the anniversary of my parents’ disappearance.”

“I know.” He seemed sad and I wondered why.

As I watched, he lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. Then, after a brief hesitation, he removed his hand from my chest and shook it. He sighed in frustration and watched me a long moment before looking up toward the heavens.

“I’m sorry,” he said, speaking as though sure someone was listening. He glanced back at me. “I’m sorry, Lorelei.” He placed his hand on my chest again. “Please, forgive me.”

I wanted to say I would forgive him anything. I could feel power emanating from him. I could feel the conflict warring inside him, ripping at his resolve. But before I could respond, he closed his eyes again. And in an instant, life began to flow back into me in great, pulsing waves. I gulped huge rations of air as the stifling weakness I felt evaporated. Strength flooded every atom in my body.