A Shimmer of Angels Page 11

  “Problem?” He asked.

  My heart thudded in my chest. There was no telling what he’d do if he found out I could see him. After all, Allison drew a man with wings—and therefore might have seen one—right before she died. What if Kade was that winged man? What if he killed people who could see him for what he was? What if Allison had the same ability as me and she was dead because he had learned her secret?

  My anxiety flared, causing my hands to tremble, threatening to cripple my tenuous grip on reality.

  He angled to the side to watch me closer, his wings leaving me the narrowest walkway. I leapt at the opportunity and edged through the small space. It probably looked odd to anyone who watched me edging along the wall, but at least I was out of there.

  He knew now. He had to. I’d made it so obvious. I should have gone into the back instead. Insisted I had a headache or needed a break.

  Something dragged across the counter. I jumped and spun around. Shelly shot me a confused look as she pulled Kade’s mug closer to her.

  Swallowing, I hurried to the art student’s table. The lovey-dovey couple in the corner left before I was done scribbling down the student’s order. Instead of returning to the counter, I shouted the medium-rare burger order to Shelly and cleared the couple’s table.

  To keep as far away from Kade as possible, I wiped down all the tables. Starting with the ones along the window, the farthest away from him. Still, I felt him watching me. I didn’t turn around.

  Back from break, Daphne delivered the last order of the night. The overwhelming scent of grease and stale coffee cloyed the air.

  I took my time wiping the tables four, five, six times, doing my best not to startle at every sound.

  When Shelly finally called out, “Closing time,” I nearly collapsed with relief. “Rayna, time to get the eff outta here. I’ve got three parties to go to tonight, and I can’t leave until you do.”

  Was it me, or did she sound a little colder than before? She’s the least of your issues, I reminded myself while preparing to look over my shoulder. It took me three tries, but when I did, Kade was gone. His mug sat on the counter, cooling and untouched.

  I hadn’t even heard the bell chime when he left.

  But at least, finally, something was going my way.

  I tried to shake the feeling of being watched as I grabbed my backpack and hurried through the dining room and out the front door, assuming Shelly would lock up behind me. After all, I didn’t have keys yet.

  Dad’s SUV waited at the curb. Right on time. I climbed inside, swallowing the sour taste of fear in my mouth.

  “How was your first day?”

  Too close. Way too close. And scary beyond belief. I plunked down my heavy backpack and tentatively waved bye to Shelly. “Not bad.”

  “I like your uniform.”

  Annoyance flushed across my face. The thought of small talk made me itchy, like my skin was too tight. Spending the last hour of my shift avoiding Kade had left me exhausted and jumpy, and talking to my dad—the one person with the power to send me back to the SS Crazy—while I was too tired to censor myself was dangerous.

  But he was trying. I knew he was trying. We were all still trying to figure out how to interact with each other after being apart for so long.

  In the end, I tamped down my aggression and said, “Yeah, thanks. I wasn’t enough of a freak, so I decided to dress like this.” I tried to force out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob, so I swallowed and shut my mouth.

  He looked at me the way everyone had the last few days. God, I was sick of that look. I had to tell him something so he knew I wasn’t losing it again. I considered divulging news of Tony DiMeeko’s suicide, but thought better of it, considering how well that went last time. Instead, I went with the good old, “Sorry, Dad. It’s been a long day.”

  He nodded and pulled away from the curb, fidgeting with the temperature knobs. “Ray, I’m concerned.”

  Not again. “Didn’t we have enough of this last night? Can’t we just have twenty-four hours of peace before we start this again?” I could feel the distance between me and Dad growing. I pulled down the unfeeling, stone face I’d relied on when he sent me away.

  “It has been over twenty-four hours, but we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

  Great.

  “I do want to apologize for last night, for Laylah.”

  I peeked out from under the shade of stone. “Laylah can’t apologize to me herself?” Tornadoes would swirl and carry me away to Oz before that was going to happen.

  Dad sighed, but his shoulders bunched with tension. “She said some hurtful things, but she was only expressing herself—” He pressed more dashboard buttons, always fiddling with his toys. “—which is what they told us to do in therapy—the family therapy she and I went to when you were away.”

  Away. That was what he called it. Like it had been my choice to leave. I gripped the side of the door to keep from screaming.

  “It was difficult for her when you went … in for treatment. She looked up to you—” Looked. Past tense. “—but it’s been her and me for a long time. We’re all readjusting. We’re going through a sort of reformatting. It might not hurt if you two spent more time together, tried wiping the hard drive clean and starting again.”

  I rolled my eyes. It was just like Dad to turn to his computers when things got too personal. Like that would help him distance himself so he didn’t have to deal with something emotional. “So now it’s my fault?” I didn’t want to play the antagonist, but that seemed to be the role he kept pushing me into. Even now I could feel the wedge growing between me and Team Dad-and-Laylah. “You know, Dad, that might actually happen if she didn’t spend every waking hour with those damn Musketeers of hers.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and looked out the window. “I feel like she told them.” And why shouldn’t she tell them? I thought about Laylah’s friends. Not that I really cared what they thought, but Laylah could have told them her messed-up older sister was certifiable. To stay away from her because she still belonged locked up. That living with me was a nightmare of psychiatric proportions, and no one should have to put up with that. “The way they look at me. It’s like they know I’m crazy—was—was crazy. I’m—I’m totally not anymore. I don’t see … anything.”

  God, I was such a bad liar. Dad and Laylah had to know I still wasn’t quite right. Maybe they were just biding their time, waiting for me to snap so the SS Crazy would have to take me back. Blood roared behind my eyes, sneaking in a new ache. Sweat formed in unlikely places, slicking the back of my neck, the crooks of my knees, and the flats of my palms.

  Please don’t send me back there. Please don’t send me back there. Please don’t send me back there.

  He patted my knee. “It’s okay, Ray. I know you’re in remission. Relax.”

  I did. Slightly. Wondering if he was humoring me or trying to convince himself, too.

  “Your sister would never tell her friends. And they make Laylah as happy as a Seagate four-terabyte hard drive makes me. As long as that keeps up, those girls are welcome any day, any time. The same goes for Lee. Speaking of, we haven’t seen much of him in the last few days. I miss talking graphics cards and beta games; he’s the only one I know outside of work who can keep up. Is everything okay with you two?”

  Our SUV rounded the corner. Our street was mostly quiet once the sun went down, the families around us all home from a long day. The car’s headlights brightened the trees and small planters that lined the street as we passed, but left them in shadows as we crept forward. Darkness engulfed the park across the street.

  We pulled up to the house. The porch light illuminated my potted flowers and plants crowding the front stairs. The car reached the steep down slope of the driveway, and we rolled toward our basement garage. Through the side mirror, I spotted the tree with the halo from the street lamp above. I swallowed, banishing the memory of the haunting nightmare out of my head.

  Dad pushed the
garage-door opener and flicked a questioning look at me.

  Lee, he asked about Lee. “I think so.” I didn’t know it was a lie until the words rolled off my tongue. Lee and his mom had been close since his dad’s death, but he didn’t normally spend so much time with her right after school. He usually spent that time with me. Was he avoiding me? He wasn’t acting any differently, but then I’d been distracted and hadn’t been paying the closest attention to him, either.

  Just one more thing I didn’t want to think about right now.

  Dad pulled into the garage and killed the engine. We got out of the car and trekked back up the driveway toward the front door. No one liked climbing the basement stairs. They were rickety and in desperate need of repair.

  “He’s been spending a lot of time at home,” I added, hoping that would convince Dad to drop it.

  Dad opened the door for us, and I swung my backpack over my shoulder. “I’ve got loads of homework to do, and I had a big bowl of soup at the diner, so I’m going to hit the books. Goodnight, Dad.”

  I headed straight through the living room, taking the stairs two at a time, not waiting for a reply. I spent the rest of the night in my room, but I didn’t so much as crack a book; not a school book, anyway. Instead, I skipped the hot shower I’d promised myself, grabbed a pen, and scribbled in my crazy-book until well past midnight.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning, fatigue burned behind my eyes and weighed heavy in my limbs. I threw on dark jeans and a lavender floral top, brushed my teeth, and slid on flat, brown suede boots which would have looked great with my Aunt Nora original jacket. But that was sitting in an evidence bag somewhere. I settled for a black, fleece-lined hoodie.

  I made my way down to Roxy’s Diner, a place I was convinced I’d want to burn down in a week if Kade kept coming in, and waited for Lee.

  He never showed.

  If I had a cell phone I could’ve called him, but to me, cell phones were just another leash.

  I waited twenty minutes, then finished the walk down the tourist-encrusted street alone, reaching the third floor before the warning bell rang.

  I slid into my seat, feeling like Honors English and I hadn’t exactly been friends lately. In an effort to enjoy part of my day before a set of wings ruined it, I buried my nose in my favorite summer-romance novel until the late bell rang. When I looked up from the book—which had almost every other page dog-eared—I noticed an empty seat beside me. Cam was either late or he wasn’t showing up for first period. It had only been a few days since he’d arrived, but he didn’t seem the type to skip.

  Unless he was off looking for Luke.

  Or another victim.

  Or was that Kade’s job?

  I pushed those thoughts to the furthest part of my mind and pulled out our assigned book, Fahrenheit 451. I didn’t know anything for sure. Cam didn’t look like a lying murderer, but then, what does a lying murderer look like? Probably more like Kade. I flipped through my worn copy of the book with more force than necessary, ripping a few of the pages. Nothing was certain. I just had to keep my eye on those two and not drive myself crazy in the process.

  I had the next two periods with Luke. He missed both of them.

  By lunch, the smell of my veggie chips and sugar-free juice made my stomach lurch.

  “You notice Gina Garson and Luke aren’t here today?” Lee said between bites of his tuna-fish sandwich.

  Had I said something out loud? I shifted in my seat. “Of course I didn’t notice. Why would I notice?”

  Lee stopped chewing. “A little touchy today?”

  “Yeah, right. Wait, Gina Garson’s gone too?” She’d seemed all right yesterday, but she’d been sick enough Tuesday to interrupt my pill-popping session. I hoped it wasn’t serious.

  “Yep. I heard she’s …” His gaze shifted around the lunchroom and his voice dropped to a whisper, “… pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” I repeated.

  “Keep your voice down. Do you want the whole school to know?”

  I resisted an eye roll; if Lee knew, that meant the whole school probably already knew.

  He adjusted his black-rimmed square frames. “Is that why you’re upset?” He rewrapped his sandwich and pulled out a chocolate bar. “You actually like that tool, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “You sprang to life the moment I said Luke’s name. He’s been trying to get at you since you got here. Didn’t I tell you he was bad news?” Lee set his chocolate bar down on the table without opening it. I’d never seen him refuse candy before. Whatever the reason, this hate for Luke was bigger than I’d thought.

  “What happened between you two?” I asked.

  “Why would you spy on Luke and Gina yesterday? Who does that?”

  Great, now that was all over school, too? I couldn’t catch a freaking break!

  “I—it was stupid. Nothing.”

  “He got all up in my face about it, like I knew what you were up to.” His brows drew together. “If my teacher hadn’t been there, I swear he would’ve tried to kick my ass.”

  I balked at his use of an actual, real-life curse word. My stalking had intensified whatever issues Luke had with Lee, but why threaten him for something I’d done? It made no sense. Maybe whatever Luke and Gina had been talking about was important enough to send him over the edge.

  “So is that why you don’t like Cam, ‘cause you’re already in-like with Luke?”

  “Um? Not … really. Lee—”

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” A worried peak formed a mountain above his brows. “Ray, you didn’t. Not with that jerk.”

  “Didn’t what? Lee … I …” What could I say? No, Lee, I didn’t hook up with Luke. I’m concerned for him because the suicides happening around here might not be suicides at all, but attacks by winged men. Oh, and by the way, I was in a mental hospital before I came here, and I very well might be going back there if I see another person with wings.

  I couldn’t lie to my best friend—my only friend. But I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth either, or I would be going back. I had no choice but to let him think whatever he wanted.

  I dropped my head into my hands. Could this day get any worse?

  “So you did hook up with him.”

  His accusation knotted my stomach, but I remained silent.

  “Wow, okay. Thanks for tellin’ me, Ray.” His voice was low, betrayed. “Whatever. It’s good to know what a great friend you are. And thanks for askin’ where I was this morning. It shows how much you care.”

  My head shot up. “Oh crap.” I had screwed up. Once again, someone else had a problem, and I was stuck thinking about myself, being the worst friend possible. Lee was one of my few tethers to reality. Lately, life felt like a hot air balloon ride, one where the ropes holding the basket were snapping. I’d already lost Laylah. Only Dad and Lee were left now.

  “I was there this time—really. And I’m sorry I missed yesterday. I wanted to ask you why you didn’t show today; I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” I flinched at my words. Too much on my mind. Too distracted with things that didn’t involve him.

  He wiped the emotion from his face. “No problem.” He stuffed his half-eaten sandwich and unopened chocolate bar into his crumpled lunch bag and stood. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow or something.”

  “But tomorrow’s a faculty day, and I’m working all weekend—” He was already walking away.

  The rest of the school day was a blur. My stomach complained about its vast emptiness as I hiked up our hill alone. Lee hadn’t been waiting outside for me after school. I half-expected to find him inside Roxy’s, or at the bus stop playing with his phone, but he wasn’t there, either.

  I paused outside Roxy’s, leaning against a streetlamp to collect myself. My eyes kept darting to the empty bus stop. I’d managed to alienate my only friend. Luke might be in some kind of trouble with the angels. And in five minutes, I’d have to slip on the world’s ugliest outfit, smile, a
nd pretend to be normal for the next five hours. Like I even knew what normal was anymore.

  Two days ago, I was desperate for this job. For a piece of normal. Now I would have given anything to slog home and hole up under the blankets for the rest of the weekend. I was beginning to learn it didn’t matter what I did; I couldn’t escape the crazy. It was part of me; it was who I was. The best I could do was try to hold it together while everything unraveled around me. Because I wouldn’t go back to the SS Crazy. I wouldn’t. So I pulled myself together. I gulped in the crisp October air, swept my hair back into a ponytail, secured it with a black ribbon, and began my shift.

  ***

  Friday’s faculty day meant no school, but I still had to work the dinner shift. Nothing went right. Shelly had the night off, so it was up to me and Daphne, who ordered me around with the finesse of a slave driver. I messed up orders, spilled food, and broke plates. The worst part had to be when the senior citizens came in for the early-bird dinner special—a tasty-smelling pot roast—and one broke out his cell phone, calling all his friends to come check out the new bumbling, fumbling waitress at Roxy’s.

  The old buzzards filed in over the next hour, a select few snickering at me as they packed the place with blue hair, canes, and walkers with little green tennis balls on the ends. With only two waitresses, Daphne and I had our hands full—Daphne waiting on the customers, me cleaning up my own messes.

  The rush eventually ended. My feet ached, my knees and ankles rebelled when I moved, and if I smelled another pot roast, I’d have to puke. The diner closed at midnight on Fridays, but my shift ended at ten. Daphne was in the back, “resting her corns.” If I had a choice between seeing those corns and smelling the pot roast, hands down, I’d take the pot roast.

  My last customer of the night, a pretty blonde, sat alone. Her fork clanked against her plate as I trekked toward her with as genuine a smile as I could scrape up.

  “Anything else I can get you?” I asked, check in hand.

  She shook her head and rubbed her flat stomach. I placed the check on the corner of the table.