A Fractured Light Read online

“I know, Skye.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I wish I could make it easier for you. You have no idea how much I wish . . .” She left her sentence hanging there in the cold night air.

  We all grow up. But why did it have to feel like leaving everything and everyone I loved behind?

  Later I crawled into bed with the little black notebook. I thumbed through the pages as if this time I might find another clue, something to connect me to this nameless person who, at one time, had been in the same place as me. I longed for some little tidbit—anything, really—to guide me. To help me stay sane in all this chaos.

  I flipped over onto my stomach and stared at the handwriting on the first page. The letters looped together in a loose script, swooping across the page like they were flying. The way an angel might fly. The way I might fly, one day.

  I sat up straight in bed, my heart pounding. I realized where I knew this handwriting from.

  It was mine.

  Chapter 16

  My heart was racing as if I’d just flown down a mountain. Was I delusional? How could I have written this? I’d been unconscious almost the whole time we’d been at the cabin, and I would have remembered writing it when I was awake. I briefly entertained the idea that I’d written it in my sleep, during a particularly vivid dream. Except all of my dreams had been about dying.

  No. I was just exhausted—mentally, physically. Skiing again had taken a lot out of me. Fighting off Gideon’s mental manipulation had messed with my mind. When I thought about the sheer weight of everything, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

  I was looking for connections where there weren’t any. That was all.

  I got up and buried the notebook in my bottom drawer under a mountain of socks. If it was out of sight, I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. It didn’t exist. I crawled back into bed and turned off the lamp. Soon I was drifting off, letting every thought, every fear, every hint about my past and clue to my future slip away into the night.

  When I walked into the kitchen the next morning, the smell of chocolate and bananas beckoned.

  “Wow,” I said as Aunt Jo flipped pancakes at the stove. I walked over to the coffeemaker and poured myself a steaming mug. “Did I do something right today to deserve this? It’s only seven thirty.”

  She placed a stack of banana chocolate-chip pancakes on a blue-and-white floral plate and set it hesitantly on the kitchen table. I put the milk back in the fridge and turned to face her, raising my eyebrows.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you,” she said, fidgeting with her own mug of coffee as we sat down. “I was scared, too, okay? You are growing up and . . .” She stopped. “Oh god, this is so hard for me to admit, but you’re not going to live here with me forever. And it’ll just be a little lonely when you’re gone, that’s all.” She sighed. “You’ve always been one to follow your own star, Skye. Just make sure to pick a good one to guide you.”

  I stared down at my pancakes and took a thoughtful bite. How was I supposed to know which star was the best one to follow?

  “Do you want to have your friends over for dinner tonight?” Aunt Jo asked. “Cassie, Dan, Ian?” She took a deep breath. “Asher, if it means that much to you?”

  “Really?” I said through a mouthful of pancake, perking up.

  “Yeah, why not.” She smiled back. “I need to properly meet Asher. He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” She kicked me under the table.

  I grinned. “What gave it away?”

  “He can’t take his eyes off you. I don’t know what you’ve done to that boy, but that’s the kind of look that’s hard to erase from someone’s eyes, once it’s there.”

  I felt something expand in my heart.

  “Yeah, well, you know,” I muttered, trying not to let my burning cheeks give too much away.

  Aunt Jo smiled and cocked her head. “I know what that feels like,” she said. “But just make sure you don’t pick your star because it’s the star he’s chosen. Be your own person.”

  “Jeez, Aunt Jo. Seriously.”

  “I’m just saying!”

  “Okay,” I said, swallowing my last mouthful of banana chocolate-chip mushiness and standing up. “If you’re done with the lecture, I have to get to school.”

  “Listen to me, Skye. I know what I’m talking about!”

  I kissed the top of her head.

  “Love you, crazy,” I said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” She grinned. “Get to class.”

  I hesitated in the door to homeroom. Cassie sat in her usual seat by the window, her blue cast sticking out into the aisle so that people had to go out of their way to walk around her. I wished my old seat hadn’t been given up when I’d been out. With a sigh, I turned to the back of the room—and stopped short. Asher was leaning over my empty seat, talking heatedly with Devin.

  I couldn’t suppress the creepy feeling that they were talking about me. Devin remained stiff in his seat. He said something in a low tone, and it seemed to enrage Asher, who leaned forward and gestured heatedly. The animosity between the two of them was so electric that I could feel it all the way across the room.

  My presence must have been palpable, because Asher looked up right then and spotted me, guilt flashing across his face. Devin turned, too, and when he saw me, he dropped his gaze to his desk. I didn’t want to get between them again, but I had no choice. Asher sat down, and slowly I walked down the aisle and slid into my seat, aware that Devin was watching me again out of the corner of his eye. I didn’t look at him, but glanced over at Asher instead. He looked away. His foot was tapping loudly against the floor.

  “Hey,” I whispered, putting my hand on his arm. He was so angry that he was shaking under my touch. “Hey,” I said again. “Calm down.”

  He muttered something I couldn’t hear.

  “Asher,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice a storm in the blackest night.

  “Is now a bad time to ask if you want to come to dinner tonight?” I asked. “Special request from Aunt Jo.”

  His resolve faltered, and he looked at me questioningly. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I gave him a small, persuasive smile. “Will you come?” His foot kept tapping a constant rhythm in the background.

  “Yeah,” he said. The worry line dissolved from his forehead. He took my hand tightly in his and lifted his dark eyes to meet mine. “I’d love to.”

  I felt a swell of happiness, had a brief vision of Asher and Aunt Jo and all my friends getting along in one big wonderful, happy family. But Asher’s foot tapping continued, and a dark, uneasy feeling edged out my joy. What had they been talking about?

  At lunch, Cassie had that gleam in her eye.

  “Uh-oh,” I said, sliding in across from her. “I’ve seen that look before.”

  Cass glanced behind her, pretending I might have been talking to someone else with a gleam in her eye. She looked back at me and pointed at herself, mouthing, “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you, Crazypants. What’s going on?”

  “I was just thinking I’m so effing bored,” she said. “I hate this stupid cast. I can’t do anything fun. I miss the Mysterious Ellipses. We haven’t had a gig in weeks. Plus,” she added, “it’s been forever since we had a rager. The last one was the party at your house. I want some drama!”

  I raised an eyebrow. I knew what was coming.

  “No way,” I said. “I can’t host it this time. I’m on dangerous ground with Aunt Jo as it is.”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “Well, at any rate, I’m going to talk to Ian today.”

  “Talk to me about what?” Ian asked, plopping down next to Cassie and ripping into a huge slice of pizza. “I can’t give you guys any more free cupcakes,” he said through a huge mouthful of cheese and sauce. “My boss said he’s gonna fire me for real.”

  “If you haven’t been fired yet, it’s never going to happen,” Cassie said, brushing him off. “Cupcakes are child’s play. I have a real favor to ask you.” br />
  Ian rolled his eyes and glanced at me, but what Ellie had told me he’d said was still eating away at me. I couldn’t make eye contact with him.

  “Okay.” He turned to Cassie. “What’s the favor? I’m not agreeing to anything without hearing what it is first.”

  “Will you book the ME at the Bean?” she asked, fluttering her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, the ME? Is that what you’re calling yourself now?”

  “The Mysterious Ellipses,” she said with a pout.

  “Can you really perform in that thing?” he asked, looking dubiously at her cast.

  “Well, that’s the favor. I was thinking maybe you could, like, ramp-ify the stage.”

  Ian laughed. “Oh my god, Cassie.”

  “Pleeeease?” More eyelash fluttering ensued.

  He shook his head. “Okay, fine, I’ll ask. But I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to a potentially legendary ME performance this weekend,” I said as I got up. Ian opened his mouth to say something else, but I bused my tray and walked out into the hallway, eager to get away from him.

  “Skye! Hey!” He came running up behind me. I stopped and looked at him, one hand on my hip. “What’s your deal?” he asked.

  “So you’re hooking up with Ellie?” My voice came out angrier than I’d meant it to. Weirdly, I felt my face growing hot. I couldn’t possibly have been jealous—it was Ian!—but still. She was my archnemesis. And he liked me!

  “Um.” He turned red. “Just once. Well, twice. But it didn’t . . . I mean, I don’t . . . like her or anything.”

  “Oh, that’s great Ian. That’s real mature.”

  “Wait, what’s the problem? You turned me down, remember? We’re not together, so what does it matter?”

  “Well, it matters when you talk shit about me behind my back!”

  “Oh,” he said quietly. “She told you.”

  “Yeah. She told me.”

  Ian sighed. “Look, Skye,” he said. “You know I love you. Okay? But I have forgiven you a lot of things. Too many things. I forgave you every day that you pretended not to notice how I felt about you. I forgave you when you started pulling away from me—from us—when those two new guys showed up, and I forgave you again when you ignored my warning that I didn’t trust them, and when you decided you would rather be with either of them than with me.”

  “I—” I said, not sure what I thought I was going to say.

  “But when you ran away with Asher, you have no idea what it did to me! I was mad, okay? I may let you hurt me, over and over again, and that’s my own problem. But you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore!” His eyes were blazing.

  I stumbled backward. I’d never seen Ian get this angry in my entire life.

  “I—I had no idea,” I said quietly.

  “So, yeah. I went to Carmen Shane’s party and Ellie was flirting with me and I hooked up with her. And honestly it’s none of your business.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Well, whatever. I gotta go. I’ll see you or something.” He turned around and took off down the hall in the opposite direction.

  As I stood there, dumbfounded, the weight of his words crushed me, almost making it impossible to breathe. And the worst part about it was that he was right.

  All day, frustration and rage cycled through me. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Ian had said. If only I could tell him the truth about where I’d really been and why I’d left without a word. It wasn’t my fault. None of this was.

  I wanted to run away again, to hide. I pictured driving cross-country, my car kicking up dust as I crossed the flat middle of the map. In the rearview mirror, a flash of white feather. Everywhere I looked: a flash of sharp white feathers. Walking down city streets, between buildings, silhouetted against the glow of the sunset. Angels following me, a part of the skyline, for as long as I lived.

  What kind of life would that be? I knew running away was impossible. I had to face this. I just wished I knew what “this” was. And, despite what Aunt Jo had said, there was still a part of me that felt deeply that wherever Asher was, that’s where I needed to be, too.

  I couldn’t wait to get on the slopes that afternoon for our race against Holy Cross. I’d raced against them before. They weren’t as fierce as the Brighton girls, but I still had to do my best if I ever wanted to be captain. I crouched low at each bend in the course and leaned into the wind, imagining huge, feathery wings extending from my back. In my mind, they guided me, directing the wind to make me more aerodynamic, my path easier. I was gliding, flying. But when I closed my eyes and tried to see if they were white or black, I couldn’t.

  The sun grew low in the sky, and the dusk was rolling in, cold and crisp and blue. As I flew down the slope, an idea struck me. I focused on the sun, squinting my eyes as it sank lower, so that just a luminous arc was peeking out above the mountains. What if I wasn’t ready for it to set just yet? What if I needed more daylight to finish the race?

  My eyes stung, but I forced myself to keep staring directly at the sun, the force of my mind pushing with all its might. Come on, I thought, taking a sharp turn in the course with exact precision. Come onnn.

  And then the strangest thing happened. The sun stopped setting suddenly, and it began to float upward. I faltered slightly, then righted myself as my competitor drew up just behind my right elbow.

  “What the—” I heard her say before her voice was swallowed by the wind. The sky began to lighten, the dusk withdrawing into itself, pulling back the darkness. I swished across the finish line and slid to a stop.

  Coach clicked his stopwatch and looked up to catch my eye. He nodded. “You keep this up for our last big race next week against Southfield,” he said, “and you’ll be our next captain.”

  I fell back onto the snowy ground, breathing hard, staring up into the sky. I could feel my powers getting stronger, more controlled. I was exhausted but exhilarated at the same time. I closed my eyes and felt the sun begin to set again as the dusk settled in around me.

  I sat by myself again on the bus. Ellie was talking loudly about me a couple of seats away.

  “Freak,” I heard her mutter. “I bet she’s on steroids or something.”

  I sighed and leaned into the seat. The trees blurred past my window. Only a month or so ago, Ellie and I had kind of been friends. I closed my eyes again, willing the bus ride to be over.

  Aunt Jo had cooked a feast. She let me shower off from the race, and then the two of us set the table while we danced around to romantic comedy soundtracks. At eight, the doorbell rang, and I opened it to see Cassie and Dan standing on my doorstep. Cass was dressed up in her favorite vintage dress, the yellow one with the little flowers. One leg was cut off a pair of tights to fit over her cast. Her red hair was piled into a purposefully messy bun. The fact that Dan was wearing a jacket instead of his navy-blue hoodie meant that he had dressed up, too.

  “Yay!” Cassie said, clapping her hands. “Dinner party!”

  I hugged them both. “Come in!” I said with a flourish.

  “Hi, guys!” Aunt Jo called from the dining room. As we walked in, Cassie presented her with a bottle of red wine.

  “From my mom.” She winked. “She made Dan promise not to drink any so he can drive me home.”

  “That’s responsible,” Aunt Jo said, patting Dan on the back.

  Dan mumbled something under his breath.

  Aunt Jo brought heaping plates of food to the table while Cassie and Dan sat down. The doorbell rang again, and I got nervous, like Asher was here to pick me up for a date or something. I hoped he was in a better mood than he had been in this morning. Later I’d confront him about his conversation with Devin.

  Asher was standing on the porch, and when I opened the front door, he smiled down at me. There was a shyness in his eyes, a vulnerability that I still wasn’t used to. He was wearing a deep green sweater and brown corduroys, a
nd held out a bouquet of flowers.

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” He smirked. “They’re for Aunt Jo.”

  “Did you dress up for me?” I asked, smiling widely as he walked in.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “You did,” I said. “You totally dressed up.” With a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he turned on me, taking my waist and drawing me close to him. I shivered. He leaned in as if to kiss me but instead moved his head to the side and whispered in my ear.

  “I should probably say hi to everyone else.”

  I knew for a fact that I was turning red, and the room was growing warmer. Asher laughed. It seemed like no matter how good I was becoming at controlling my powers, he could still swoop in and ruin all of my progress with a single touch.

  “Guys?” Aunt Jo called. “Dinner!”

  It was the best dinner I’d ever had. Aunt Jo had prepared heaping family-style bowls of pasta, lamb tenderloin just the way I loved it—smothered in her ancho chile rub—and her special string beans. We’d opened the bottle of wine, and Cassie, Asher, and I were all flushed and happy. Dan was good-natured about it, but I couldn’t help but think how sweet it was that he was listening so intently to Cassie’s mom’s instructions. Cassie and Dan were like my couple role models. Maybe one day, when all of this was over—if it ever could be—Asher and I could be together in a normal way, living in some normal house, just being . . . normal.

  Sometimes, as I looked around the table at my old friends—Cassie, beaming at Dan as he passed her the pasta—I almost forgot what was happening to me, that I was trying to turn myself into a fighter. I felt strange, like I was keeping something from almost every single person at the table. And I was. But a houseful of people determined to keep me safe was better than a lonely, empty house. It was a feeling I’d never really had before. This was my family.

  Aunt Jo was laughing and smiling, but I noticed that the smile never fully reached her eyes. She looked far away, and every time she glanced at Asher, she began to fidget nervously, an uncomfortable look washing over her face. What was going on with her? I’d never seen her act like this. I started to wonder: had she been so upset because I had run away—or because I’d been spending so much time with Asher?