Shattered Grace

The reflection in her bathroom mirror didn’t seem any different than yesterday. Bending at the hips, Grace leaned over the sink for a better look. At closer glance, she couldn’t see any changes. She certainly didn’t feel different. Quentin said the sene-whatever band had changed completely, which meant she did too. But into what exactly? Chosen, she got that part. What was so special about being Chosen? The mirror still reflected the same Grace she’d always seen there.

Everything felt the same.

On the other hand, she did have angel blood coursing through her veins. How freaking cool is that? Chosen should feel different, not just the doom and gloom part of it. The pressure cloud hanging over her surely felt like change. How fair was it to have all the risk and responsibility, but no reward for the burden you bear for the sake of everyone else? There had to be more to this Chosen thing, she reasoned. With both hands, she pulled her face down, looking for changes in her appearance, other than the obvious long face.

“Why yes, Quentin, I’d love to go to dinner with you.” Nope, she didn’t sound different either. “Mo—”

“Hey, Grace?” Quentin tapped on her bedroom door. “You alright in there?”

Shocked, she squatted to the floor, gripping the edge of the counter. Why was she trying to hide? The bathroom door was shut, and so was her bedroom door. There was no way he could have seen her acting like an idiot in front of the mirror. Unless… Wrenching the bathroom door open, she stomped through her bedroom, yanking its door open as well. A surprised Quentin stood wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Can you see through walls?”

“Can I what?” His eyebrows drew together as he chuckled. “I’m not Superman.”

“Can you fly?”

“No.” He sounded completely unwilling to elaborate. “Are you almost done? You have school tomorrow and your mom has to get up for work.”

“Be there in a minute.” Relieved he didn’t witness her performance, Grace turned and surveyed her room. Not really wanting to pack, she stumbled to her closet, tossing clothes here, shoes there, and decided on bathroom necessities. With her suitcase dragging behind her, Grace returned to the family room. Quentin and Laney were both waiting.

Quentin reached for the suitcase. “Ready?”

“I got it.” The obnoxious hum of the suitcase’s wheels followed as she walked to the Jag.

Laney didn’t need to be told which room at Morgan Manor was hers. Every time their family had any gatherings that went too late in the night, she would sleep in the guest room at the very end of the hall from Grace’s. Laney and Quentin passed the doorway of Grace’s bedroom, a suitcase in Laney’s hand, and two boxes in Quentin’s.

Torn between being relieved her mother gave her no grief about moving and not wanting the homey feeling of the manor to be tarnished, Grace sighed and heaved the suitcase on top of the bed and started unpacking. Once she was done, she pulled some comfy pajamas from the dresser and went into her bathroom to get ready for bed. Mentally she gave herself a pep talk as she sat on the edge of the tub. She needed to talk to her mother to find out what else was going on. Why was Laney so ready to go and not surprised by the sudden urgency to get out of her house?

Quickly, Grace brought her hands down, slapping the edge of the tub with a loud whack. “Here goes nothing,” she said aloud as she stood up. Tiptoeing down the stairs, she strained to listen for voices. None upstairs and certainly none downstairs. The house was eerily quiet. She didn’t think that both her mother and Quentin would just go to bed their first night without saying good night. They could be somewhere in the house talking. She crossed her fingers and hoped they were.

Walking on the balls of her feet, she tried to be as quiet as possible. Maybe she’d get lucky and overhear what she wanted to know instead of having to face down her mother for the truth. Her mental switchboard was already running at full capacity and dangerously close to overloading. Tonight was not a good night for a Laney argument.

Grace twisted her fingers tighter, and sidled toward the aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen. Heels and back against the wall, she leaned her ear closer to the door. She still didn’t hear anything, but she knew someone was in there. Peeling herself off the wall, she walked through the doorway. Laney sat on the far side of the breakfast nook table, Quentin on the side closest to Grace with his left elbow on the table, the right hanging off the back of the chair. Both were quietly watching her. Waiting is more like it, Grace decided.

“Don’t tell me, ‘the band,’” she added air quotes, “told you I was coming.” Grace grabbed a coffee cup from the cupboard, poured herself a cup, and sat at the head of the table closest to her mother and Quentin.

“Don’t mock the band, hater. I knew you were lurking outside the door,” Quentin said with a slight smile.

Grace took a quick sip of coffee. “How’d you know I was standing outside the door?”

“Well, it’s kind of like what I said to you about the band helping me know how you’re feeling. It also helps me sense where you are.”

“It’s a GPS tracker?” she asked as her mother remained quiet, but obviously visually engaged in the conversation.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what, exactly? Stop speaking ‘Quentin’ and just spit it out already.” This beating around the bush thing was going to drive her mental.

“The seneschal band links us together. I sense you, feel you. Your emotions run through my veins … fear, sadness, happiness. The whole gamut.”

Laney still hadn’t said a word and the look on her face confirmed to Grace she wasn’t surprised by anything she heard. Grace’s head swiveled back and forth between the two. “So, what you’re telling me is, not only can I be sensed by the others, but I can also be tracked by you?”

“Basically.”

“Great, my personal paparazzi posse is now complete. Yay, me!” She jerked her chin toward her mother. “And why do you seem like you already know about all of this?”

Laney cleared her throat. “After listening to you and Quentin back at the house, it seemed like the smart thing to do was leave with you.”

“Uh-uh, that’s bull. I know you, and you would have fought him tooth and nail. Especially since he’s a stranger.” Laney’s eyes searched out Quentin’s. Quentin’s locked on Laney’s. “Oh, come on. You two never met before tonight, right?”

“Grace, listen …” Laney said, as she reached for Grace’s hand.

Grace pulled away from the table, pulling her hands away and holding them in the air. “Right, Mom?” Her mother didn’t say a word. “I can’t believe this. You’ve known?” Grace shook her head slightly as the realization sunk in. “Why would you not tell me? Is there anyone, anyone at all, who hasn’t lied to me my whole life?”

“Please, Grace, you don’t understand,” Laney pleaded.

“I understand you’re a liar!” Grace shifted her eyes accusingly to Laney’s. “I understand Christophe was a liar. I understand my father was a liar, and now I understand Quentin’s a liar. I completely understand that I have been and still remain surrounded by liars!”

She tried sipping her coffee despite the emotion rattling her teeth against the cup’s edge. Things just kept getting better. The more she knew, the more she wanted off the crazy train that had suddenly become her life.

“Grace,” Quentin said softly. She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she kept her eyes and hands on her cup. He sighed loudly, but continued. “We couldn’t tell you. In fact, we weren’t even supposed to tell Laney, but your grandfather insisted.”

Grace’s eyes stayed fixed on her coffee. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”

“It’s the rules.”

“So you guys broke the rules to tell her, but not me? Obviously, the rules can be broken.” With the tips of her fingers, Grace twirled her cup on the table.

“I didn’t—” Quentin began, but Grace slamming her hand on the table stopped him from finishing his sentence.

“Grace,” her mother snapped. “This may be your house, but I am still your mother and you will stop being rude. We’re only trying to help you, trying to keep you safe.”

Grace stood from her seat, both hands flat on the table. “Mom, you’re right, this is my house…” ‘So get the hell out’ teetered on the edge of her tongue, threatening to fall from her lips, but she managed to bite it back. “But I shouldn’t be rude.” She looked Quentin in the eye. “Quentin, I’m sorry. I’m really tired and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Avoidance had been working for her so far, and she decided that it would be the best choice for her tonight. “I’m going to bed.” She poured out what was left of her coffee in the sink, and put the cup in the dishwasher. A thick silence hung in the air as she left the kitchen.

Grace slid her finger along the wooden banister as she slowly took each step one at a time. She paused in front of her grandfather’s door, wrapping her hand slowly around the knob, willing herself to turn the handle. Not finding the inner strength, she relented, and rested her head against the coolness of the wood. She closed her eyes and lifted her hand to press her palm against the door, wishing the memories of her grandfather could calm her. “I miss you,” she whispered, and tapped her fingers four times gently against the door before she pushed away and continued down the hall to her room.

Seconds later, she collapsed on her bed, blinking hard against the burning that threatened behind her eyes. It was a hard thing to swallow learning that every adult she’d trusted, from the time she was a little girl, had lied to her in one way or another. She’d thought the day of her grandfather’s funeral was the loneliest she’d ever felt in her life. Boy, was she wrong. Curling into a fetal position on top of the bedcovers, she let go of both her brave front and her tears.

Quentin didn’t need to see her tears to know they were there. He felt each one of them fall. Every teardrop felt like a magnetic pull on his body. The pull so strong, he fought to stay put in the kitchen chair. She needed time and he needed to make sure their relationship stayed strictly Guardian and Chosen. Comforting her in the way he wanted would confuse his heart and mind even further. He rose from the table, walked behind his chair, and gripped its back so hard his knuckles whitened.

“She’s right, you know,” he said to Laney.

“How so?”

“We never should have told you.”

“Christophe thought it was the right thing to do and it was.” Laney pulled her chin up, meeting his gaze straight on.

The way Laney looked now, he could see where Grace got her stubborn resolve. “I’m not too sure it was. We’ve been keeping secrets from her since she was a little girl. It’s going to be hard to keep her safe, to keep her alive, if she doesn’t trust me and want me around.”

Quentin watched as Laney’s eyes narrowed into a threatening glare. “You’d better keep her safe, Quentin, because there’s nowhere I won’t go to hunt you down if anything happens to her.”

He met her eyes squarely as his lips twitched, knowing she wouldn’t find his amusement at all funny. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, but you don’t need to worry. I will keep her safe.” Stubborn resolve was one quality Grace got from her mother; the courage he felt from her was another. No matter how much these two women butted heads, the same strength of character ran through their veins, making them more alike than he knew either would ever want to admit.

“Good,” Laney said as she stood. “Then you and I won’t have a problem. I’ll see you in the morning. I’m tired too.”

Quentin’s gaze followed Laney as she walked toward the doorway. Before walking out, she turned back to him. “She doesn’t trust either one of us now. We both have a long road ahead.”

“I intend to do whatever it takes to gain her trust.”

“As do I.”

Laney disappeared through the doorway, and Quentin remained behind his chair. He tilted his face toward the ceiling; Grace’s room was almost directly above him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost visualize her curled up on the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally cried herself to sleep, the echo of her pain heavily lying over his heart like a paperweight. It killed him to know she was hurting. If only he could be a dream walker for a day, he could give her the dreams she deserved for a night.

Slowly, he made his way to his bedroom—the one directly across from Grace’s. He paused in front of her door. Softly, he placed his hand against the wood. Every breath, all the soft pulses of her heartbeat, each tiny sleeping twitch resonated within him as if they were his own. Yes, his bond with her was stronger than with previous Chosen, but he wasn’t too sure if it was solely from the seneschal band anymore.

When Friday came around, Grace found she didn’t remember much from the previous two days. Her emotions were so frazzled, she didn’t want to be around anyone. To make sure everyone at school stayed away, she told them she had a stomach bug, and it had been coming out both ends. As expected, they left her alone after that.

After spending lunch hidden in the bathroom stalls the last few days, she decided to make an appearance in the cafeteria. Getting only a bowl of soup, she sat at the table with her friends. No one really noticed her. Either that, or they all worried about catching whatever she had. Can’t catch this, guys, she thought glumly. With her spoon, she played with her soup.

“Hey, Grace,” Tommy said from the other end of the table. “You know, you don’t have to come tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Geesh, guys, I have a fake stomach flu, not the bubonic plague. Aloud, she changed her tone, trying to sound upbeat. “Actually, I’m feeling better. I’m just a little tired. I still want to go tonight.”

“Okay, sweets, but if you change your mind, or you start to feel bad again, just stay home,” Emily said.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Grace tried to sound convincing. “Hey, Tommy, if you see Zeke, let him know I’m still going.”

“Why didn’t you tell him in Keyboarding?”

“Because I didn’t see him.”

Emily turned to Grace. “Who are you riding with tonight?”

“Myself.”

“Why don’t you ride with us?” she suggested. “We can pick you up after we pick up Leah.”

It only took her a minute to think about it. She didn’t want to drive by herself, and she certainly didn’t want to ride alone with Zeke. “What time will you be by to pick me up?”

“I have to be there at seven since the show starts at eight thirty,” Tommy said, before Emily could answer. “So we need to be leaving town no later than six forty. Be ready to go by six thirty.” Tommy obviously understood female time.

“Yes, sir!” Grace said, mocking him with a half-hearted salute.

Tommy smirked. “At least you got my name right.”

When the bell rang after sixth period, a frisson of fear crept along Grace’s skin at the thought of running the gauntlet to her car, making the tiny hairs on her arms and nape of her neck rise. Ever since the Shadow Hounds had prowled the school parking lot, she’d feared their return. She knew Quentin was somewhere watching, so being afraid was stupid. Since finding out Quentin had lied to her too, she’d refused to talk to him. But he followed her to and from school anyway, sticking to her like her crappy mood. She wanted him to leave her alone, except that after school was the most likely time they might come back.

She took a minute to grab the books she needed for her weekend homework, glancing at the locker next to hers—Amanda’s—and realized she hadn’t seen her in school since Monday. Mentally she made a note to call her sometime over the weekend. Grace hoped her absence didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Peters.

The air outside was torrid and suffocating again. She wished the warm front would move somewhere else already. For the hundredth time in the last couple of weeks, she considered putting air-conditioning in the Shelby and once again, ixnayed the idea. She still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her loyalty to her grandfather annoyed her. Why couldn’t she just put the darn air-conditioning in the stupid car?

Because.

Because deep down she wanted to believe all of his secrets and lies were for her own good. She didn’t have the heart to change anything that remotely reminded her of him, including what was now her house. An ache settled in the center of her chest at the mere thought of redecorating. She purposefully put the thought way on the back burner of her mind.

As she stood next to the driver’s side door of her car, she spotted Quentin’s Jag parked across the street. His hand hovered above the partially rolled-down window before hesitantly waving. She got into her car, pretending not to see him, and drove away.

“You’re not going with me, Quentin,” Grace lashed out in protest.

“You can be mad at me all you want, but I’m going.”

“So what, you’re going to be parked outside all night like you do all day at school?” she said with her hands on her hips.

Her eyes narrowed to slits, Grace watched as Quentin ran a hand through his wild black hair, pushing it with irritation away from his eyes, while the other hand loosely held the area just below his hip. “I will if I have to.” His bunched muscles loosened as he widened his stance. He seemed desperate. She didn’t care. “Damn it, Grace.” His words came out in a hushed plea. “You have to let me protect you. I understand you’re mad at me—”

“Do you?”

He ignored her interruption. “I understand why you’re mad at me. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and trust me again, but until then, all I’m going to be is your annoying sidekick. Because I’m not. Going. Anywhere.”

“Fine,” she yelled, marching out of the foyer. Halfway up the staircase, she shouted down to him without stopping, “I have to get ready. My ride will be here in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be ready to go too,” he shouted back up to her.

With a “humph,” she slammed her bedroom door.

Twenty minutes later, Grace was thankful to be in the backseat of Tommy’s car. Relieved, she laid her head against the back of the seat. Her bones slowly settled and her muscles relaxed as her body pressed into the upholstery. She could finally pull in enough air to expand her lungs. Grace watched the colors of Utah pass by while she stared out the window.

It wasn’t until they were on the on-ramp of the highway when Grace realized Leah was bouncing nervously. “Are you alright?” Grace leaned over, speaking loud enough for only Leah to hear. Leah’s attention stayed on the window, her stilled foot the only clue she heard Grace when it stopped wagging. Smiling absently, she offered an “Mm-hmm,” and went back to flapping the sandal from the toe of her right foot, which was crossed over her knee. She knew Leah was only nervous because Brian was going to be there. Let’s hope the night will at least turn out good for her, Grace thought. She’d lost hope for herself.

Tommy was visibly nervous as well. He kept fisting the steering wheel so tightly, the skin on his knuckles pulled tight and turned white. He didn’t say two words the whole way to Bountiful. Every few minutes, Emily glanced at Tommy, smiling from ear to ear. “Proud girlfriend” oozed off her in possessive waves. Grace tried nonchalantly to peek out the back window, wondering if she would see Quentin tailing them. Luckily, no one in the car appeared to have noticed as everyone else was lost in their own thoughts.

The Board Shop was in the middle of town in an old theater that had been renovated. Tommy parked his Blazer across the street, but didn’t move too quickly from his seat, instead tilting his head and focusing upward. They all followed his gaze, settling on the lit-up marquee as flashing lights ran laps around the edges. Large red letters at the top announced the night’s main attraction, Falling Down. The name on the bottom in slightly smaller red letters spread across the center of the marquee like a giant bull’s eye—Distant Echo. Tommy leaned back in his seat for a moment, his eyes shining and his smile a mile wide, obviously enjoying his band’s fifteen minutes of fame.

They all piled out of the car, everyone quietly smiling. The heaviness that had covered them like a blanket in the car seemed to dissipate with every step closer to the building. Grace tried spying with her little eye a certain someone as she inconspicuously glanced from left to right before crossing the street. That certain someone was incognito, but she wasn’t stupid. Her Guardian was there … somewhere.

Tommy left them once they were inside to go find the rest of the band, while the three girls looked around for the nearest bathroom. Twirling around like a hyperactive ballerina, Leah spoke up. “Found it. It’s over there!” She pointed toward the back of the large, open room. Grace finally saw the restroom sign above the door to the left of the stage. Leah beelined for the sign, with Grace and Emily following after her.

Soon, all three girls stood in front of the mirror evaluating their reflections, trying to determine if they appeared concert-ready. Since it was still early, the restroom was blessedly peaceful and they didn’t have to jockey for space in front of the mirror. Later in the evening would be an entirely different story.

“Well,” Grace said, yielding to the image. “Trust me, I don’t get any better than this. Ready?” Emily bounced up and down on her toes, visibly excited enough to pee her pants. Leah’s face paled. She was worse than in the car.

Leah’s gaze fell to the floor for a moment as she took a steadying breath. She looked up, her eyes pained with insecurity, and asked plaintively, “Do I look alright, you guys?”

“Absolutely,” Emily said.

“Of course,” Grace assured her. “You always do.”

Leah was cute and petite with a sweet, innocent Alice In Wonderland vibe, except she had a fashionable blonde bob rather than Alice’s long locks. Her hair was short, almost jaw length in the back, coming to a longer collarbone length in front. She was totally adorable, and Grace tweaked her hair and gave her a grin to remind her of that. With another deep breath, Leah walked briskly out of the bathroom. Emily shot Grace a knowing, exasperated glance as they picked up the pace in order to keep up.

The lights outside the bathroom were turned up more than when they had first entered the building. The walls were painted black, adorned with skateboards of every imaginable shape and color, and the carpet was blood red. Red curtains fell from above the stage, pooling in organized disarray atop the wood below. Stage lights hung from iron posts above. Round white lights bordered the wood platform from left to right. The music from arcade games reached Grace’s ears, encouraging her to guess what games they were. In the corner was a small coffee bar. Grace looked around, impressed with the venue. She didn’t know there were so many different types of skateboards a person could buy. She liked the place. It had a funky but fun vibe.

Grabbing Grace and Leah by the elbow, Emily ushered them forward. “Come on. Let’s get a seat up front before they’re all taken.” Emily was so predictable: she always sat in the very front row whenever Tommy played, in the middle seat at the middle table in the middle of the room. She was dead center in the middle of the stage. A raging fire wouldn’t get her to move from that seat.

“I wonder if these tables can be moved?” Grace asked, trying to scoot the table next to theirs closer.

“Why?” Emily asked.

“For starters, where’s your boyfriend going to sit when he’s not onstage? In your lap? There’s only three chairs to a table and these are already taken. Plus, Zeke and Brian will need a place to sit, and so will the rest of the band.”

“Good point,” Emily said, reluctantly getting up to help slide tables and move chairs.

“See,” Grace said, plopping down in the seat next to Emily. “Better, right?”

Emily didn’t respond, too engrossed watching Tommy help the guys get the instruments ready. Grace eyed the stage, not really interested in watching the band set up, but there wasn’t anything else for her to do. Zeke wasn’t there to talk to, Emily didn’t want to talk, and Leah was clearly too nervous. Grace glanced at her friends and wondered when they both became nothing but about the guys they crushed on. She wondered if she should be concerned, or thankful she hadn’t met anyone who completely consumed her like that.

Much to Grace’s surprise, eight thirty rolled around before she knew it. People-watching happened to be one of her favorite pastimes, and as the room quickly filled up, there were plenty of people at The Board Shop for that.

Tommy stepped up to the mic, holding nothing but his confidence. “Hi, everyone.” The crowd hooted and hollered. His only saying hello disappointed her. This crowd was way bigger than at Latté Da’s and in a different town. It seemed a better way would have been a shouted, “Hellooo, Bountifullll!” with a fist in the air. Maybe she was dreaming too big for Distant Echo right now?

“This one’s for my baby.” Tommy grabbed the mic from the stand, then glanced back to the band to give them their cue. The drummer started first, keeping tempo for the guitars to follow, then the keyboard. True to his word, he didn’t scream words into the mic that made her want to curl in on herself and protect her ears. It was nice. Grace listened with excitement and fascination, mixed up with a little relief. The music definitely wasn’t like it was last week, and she found herself starting to relax.

Emily made sappy lovesick eyes at Tommy the whole time he sang. Every now and then he’d make eye contact back, winking his acknowledgement of his girl. Each time he did that, it was like a fan-girl took possession of Grace’s best friend’s body. She screamed, shouted, and fanned her face. Sweet and funny and rather annoying, Grace thought. But all in all, she really was happy Emily had found love. Her mind drifted a little, thinking about where Emily and Tommy’s relationship might go, and she thought about how she would kick her butt if Emily ditched her plans for going to college, a goal she’d shared with Grace and had been planning together since they were little girls.

Leah, on the other hand, sat on the edge of her seat, nervously turning around every few minutes looking toward the front door. A couple of songs in, Zeke and Brian finally showed up. Grace waved in their direction so they’d know where the group was sitting. Zeke sat next to Grace—no surprise there—and Brian sat next to Leah, which actually did surprise Grace since he was shyer than her. Apparently Leah was shocked as well. When the song was over, Zeke leaned on the table closer to Grace.

“Sorry we’re late. I couldn’t get my damn car to start.”

“Uh-oh,” Grace said with a slight smile.

He tried saying something else, but the music started up again and drowned out anything he attempted to say. Distant Echo played a couple more songs and then announced the headline band was coming on next.

Thumping drumbeats had Grace bringing her attention back to the stage. Her heart stuttered as she focused on the band. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. Standing only ten feet in front of her, dazzling underneath shining, brightly colored lights, was none other than Darius. He was the lead singer of Falling Down, the main act. Stunned, Grace listened intently as the band started to play.

The music was loud and angry. Not quite mosh-worthy, but close. Grace could only make out a word here and there. She understood enough to know the song was about lying and trust. Basically, about her life.

Zeke inched uncomfortably close, trying to talk in her ear. Every now and then she’d smile and give a polite nod or shake of her head. After a couple of nodding “Mm-hmm’s” and a few head-shaking “Uh-uh’s,” she wondered if she’d unknowingly agreed to anything. She scooted closer to the edge of her seat, meaning to make it clear she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to listen to the music. And to watch Darius.

When the song ended, Grace had to restrain her inner fan-girl. It was tough staying in her seat when all she wanted to do was jump up and down and scream. Listening to Darius sing made her want to slide off the chair into a puddle of goo under the table. Emily deserved a pass, she realized, as Grace finally totally got it.

“This next one’s called ‘Killing Man’ by Jack Savoretti.” Darius put the mic back in its stand and the band began a slow, ominous rhythm that shushed the crowd. Darius’ eyes closed as he hung on to the mic like a lifeline.

Grace’s knees trembled. This guy was definitely a danger to the heart. Her mind shot off warning bells to leave. Now. She bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring it, and tightened her fingers around her knees. The melody swam over her, making her shiver. She took in a cursory breath, and struggled to take in another. She should get up now, walk away. But the first line chained her to her seat.

In the haunting timbre of his voice was an outpouring of emotion that completely captivated her heart. Everyone and everything fell away as she sat enslaved, caught up in every word he sang. The song was a crying out of his soul. She felt it as surely as she felt her own heartbeat.

Darius was gone to the melody. The sad curve of his lips left her picturing ways to make them happy, wanting to feel them softly turn upward against her own. Wonderful, she thought, now I’ll never be able to stay away from him. Zeke whispered again in her ear, but she couldn’t make it out. Didn’t care to, either.

Darius didn’t open his eyes until the song was over. When he finished, no one moved. At first, there was only silence, and an eerie expectation that hung in the air. Something magical had happened onstage, and the crowd felt it too. All of a sudden, the roar of applause and shrill whistles jerked Grace back to her senses. Darius waved to the audience to quiet them, picked up his guitar, and swayed slightly to and fro as he started plucking the strings. He had yet to make eye contact with her. Still mystified by the song, she wondered what it meant to him.

After a couple more riffs, Falling Down announced they were going to take a break and Distant Echo would be back on in ten minutes. Grace was finally able to suck in enough air to be considered breathing normally. If Darius came over and talked to her, she didn’t know what she’d say or do.

Before she could get too deep in her mental conversation with Darius, Grace was torn from her thoughts, sensing something unusual from somewhere behind her. A tingling current pulsed through her veins, lifting her from her seat. It was different from what she’d felt in the parking lot of her school; not like what she’d felt from Limye either. This was a pull.

She left their table and weaved through the crowded room of mostly seated bodies, stopping at the edge of the seating area to scan the other half of The Board Shop. The sensation wasn’t coming from the people playing games, or from the lone couple sitting at the coffee bar. After seeing nothing, she contemplated going back to her seat when a man, dark as the night sky, crossed her path and went behind the counter in front of the skateboard display. The pull was coming from him. Grace walked up to the counter, feeling no fear, but suddenly at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say, “What the heck are you?”

The dark man broke the ice first, smiling down at her. “There hasn’t been a female in here for a while.”

Grace glanced around the room. “Uh, that’s kind of a weird thing to say. There’s girls everywhere.” Confused, she turned back to him.

“I’m not talking about them. I meant us.”

“Us?”

Placing an elbow on top of the Plexiglas, he sighed. “Okay, I’ll play it your way. What can I do for you?”

Eyeing the dark man’s smirk as he leaned on the counter, Grace sifted through her brain for what words to form. She came up empty, so she improvised. “Actually, I thought you were someone else. My mistake.” She turned to go back to her friends.

“Hold up,” he said, gripping her by the elbow. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Anger rushed through her as she glared at the hand wrapped around her arm. Who did he think he was? She didn’t give him permission to touch her. Yanking her arm free, she channeled all her anger into pinning him with her stare. “That’s because I didn’t give it.”

Surprised, he stood at full height, and backed away from the counter. “Whoa. Okay, I’m sorry.”

She stepped back up to the counter, feeling silly for overreacting. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t bother trying to get her name,” someone behind her said, then leaned on the counter next to her. “She won’t give it.”

Caught off guard, she gawked at the owner of the mystery voice. She snapped her mouth shut and forced a nonchalance she didn’t feel as Darius stared down at her with his intense green eyes and a slight upturn to his mouth. Inside, Grace frowned. She wanted his mouth turning up for different reasons. At her expense wasn’t what she had in mind.

He was teasing her.

She bristled. “Not to strange men yelling at me from a dark street corner.” Flirty and mysterious was what she was actually going for, not hard to get. But whatever.

“Well, I didn’t yell at you from a dark street corner,” the guy behind the counter said. “And I still didn’t get your name.”

Grace gripped her hips with angry hands. “No, you put your hands on me. That’s not okay.”

The guy threw his hands back in the air. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”

“Let’s play nice,” Darius said, staring down at Grace. “I’m Darius, in case you forgot.” The corners of his mouth hooked upward again. Seriously, how could she forget? “This is Mathias.” He waved a hand in Mathias’ direction. “Mathias, this is—”

He held out a hand expectantly as they both waited, anticipating a name. She had to give Darius credit for trying. The sexual menace he threw off made every nerve ending zing, reminding Grace why he was hazardous for her health. He’d probably played flirty little games countless times before. Grace couldn’t deny the draw to him, or the way his voice made her want to give everything over to him, but she couldn’t afford another compound fracture to her heart. Lately, her heart resembled a patchwork quilt, held together by minor repairs to the stitching.

The stitch of hope wouldn’t hold her heart together forever though. Grace thought it ironic she’d literally held hope in her hands at the bank the other day, and yet she wasn’t sure if she could truly believe in it. All week she’d hoped she’d see Darius again, but hope of a different kind had her turning to walk away. She surprised even herself. “Nice try. I have to get back to my friends.” For the second time, she tried to get back to her seat, but Darius stepped into her path.

“Are you seriously going to make me beg, because I’ll get down on my knees right here if that’s what it takes.”

She watched in embarrassment as he kneeled on the ground before her, hands together in a prayerful, pleading clasp. “Please—”

“Alright,” Grace forced through tight lips, tugging on the shoulder of his shirt. “Get up!”

“Alright what?” His lips turned up with sexual promise.

She glowered down at him. “Alright, I’ll tell you my stupid name if you get up.”

Darius stood, smirking victory as if getting what he came for. Her glare followed him upward. After a couple of very long and awkward minutes, he moved like he was about to get back down on his knees.

“Okay! Geesh.” Irritated, she stared past him, settling on the front door. Nothing angered her more than being told what to do, except for being manipulated. He was definitely yanking her chain. Obviously, Darius had played the game before, like she figured. In her peripheral vision, she could see his hands rise from his sides, joining together in another plea. As soon as her eyes met his, Grace knew she was in trouble. Unable to control it anymore, she gave in with a chuckle at his pathetic attempt at batting his eyes. God help me, she thought as she cast her eyes heavenward.

Extending her hand, she offered her name. “Grace.”

The planes of his face softened as he held her hand in his. The warmth of his touch shot to her soul. “Is that your real name, or the name you give to creeps you don’t ever want to see again?” Then he laughed, which only drew her in more.

“I figure I’ll run into you again. The fake one won’t work for very long,” she managed through her own laughter; however, hers didn’t come off as cool like his. It was more like a nervous adolescent girl’s chortle. Perfect!

Tommy’s voice rang out over the speakers, announcing the song that would begin their second set.

“I’ve got to get back to my seat. It was nice talking to you again, Darius.”

“I’ll see you around.” His lips lifted into his hypnotic boyish grin. Walk away, Grace.

Shaking her head to expel the thoughts her mind tried to conjure, she went back to her seat. Emily watched her sit with a quizzing gaze. Grace shrugged her shoulders. Zeke had passed his time visiting with Brian and Leah, but made his way next to Grace as soon as he noticed she was back. His eyebrows lifted in a “where were you” look. She just smiled, inside and out.

She’d run into Darius again just like she wanted, however, she was torn in two about it. On one hand, she wanted to walk along the dangerous, mysterious side of the road with him. While on the other, she wanted to run to Safety Boulevard away from him and the broken heart guys like him tended to leave in their wake.

Her mind wandered to the man somewhere outside watching over her. She wasn’t torn two ways, she was torn three. There were impossibilities in each situation. It made her sad to think about it, even though she was angry at Quentin. No longer hearing the music, she stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. She seriously didn’t understand how she could be with anyone. Not now. Not after knowing what and who she was.

A thought suddenly struck her. Darius had grabbed her hand and she’d felt nothing, sensed nothing. Impossible. She turned her head, raking her gaze from wall to wall. It wasn’t until she swiveled completely around in her seat that she finally found what she was looking for. Darius was leaning against the counter like he had been against the building; arms folded across his chest, feet crossed on the floor. He wasn’t watching Distant Echo. The laser beam of his gaze was zeroed in on her. The longer they stared at each other, the more intense the green of his eyes burned.

Grace focused on her breathing and staying put in her seat as she forced herself back around. She didn’t make eye contact with him again until he was directly in front of her. Still, she tried focusing on everything—anything—else on the stage, but his eyes. The few times she gave in to her mind’s pressure, she was rewarded with boyish grins and sexy winks. No matter how intrigued she was about her inability to feel his emotions, self-preservation was more important. She promised herself she’d steer clear of him. She had to.

When both bands called it a night, Grace was glad it was time to get out of there. Her heart and mind were barraged by conflicting thoughts and emotions, and she couldn’t stand still. Again and again, her eyes went to the front door with longing—freedom was so close.

Irritated that no one was moving fast enough toward the door, she crossed her arms and tapped her toe. Zeke stood next to her, keeping a friendly distance, and when he grinned her way, Grace pulled her lips back in a thin response. Tommy said his good-byes to the other band members and joined Grace and their friends, putting an arm around Emily’s shoulder. “Ready, babe?” Tommy kissed Emily on the eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.

The group sounded like a swarm of bees talking and laughing as they finally made their way to the door. Zeke and Brian were trying to talk them into going to a restaurant up the road when Darius stepped in their path.

“My man,” he said, holding a hand out to Tommy. “You guys rocked it tonight.” They did their little hand-shake and sideways shoulder-bump hug all men seem to know.

“Thanks, dude. That was fresh. What a rush.”

“Well, maybe Mathias will invite you back soon. Would you guys be up for that?”

Tommy let loose with a big smile. “Sure thing, dude!”

Grace turned toward the exit and gave her friends a mental command to follow her, hoping they’d take the hint. Their group began moving again, sweeping her up in their camaraderie as they made their way outside.

“Good night, Grace,” Darius called out from behind her, again.

Not trusting herself to turn around, she continued walking and kept her eyes forward while trying to shoo her friends to keep moving. “Night!” Grace waved a hand from slightly above her head.

Outside the door, Grace said a quick good-bye to Zeke and Brian and hurried across the street to wait by the passenger door of the Blazer. Tommy and Emily finished their conversation and crossed the street. Tommy pushed the unlock button on the key fob and Grace jumped in before he and Emily even reached the car. Emily had barely shut the door before twisting her head in what seemed like an uncomfortable position in order to pin Grace with an uncompromising stare. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Grace said, trying to pull off oblivious.

Emily eyed her, making Grace squirm in her seat. “Oh, whatever.” Emily wasn’t buying it. Grace could never get anything past her. “How do you know Darius?”

“I don’t,” Grace replied. At that, Tommy swiveled in his seat, both their faces letting her know that she hadn’t convinced either of them. Grace sighed. “I don’t know him, I just met him.”

Emily flipped down the visor, concentrating on putting more strawberries and cream on her lips. “Oh, you like him,” Emily teased.

“I do not!”

Emily’s hand fell from her face, as she fixed her gaze on Grace through the mirror. “You so do too!”

“Believe what you want.” Grace crossed her arms and stared out the window, uncomfortably aware that her actions were a dead giveaway that Emily had nailed it.

“Well, you’ve certainly got your hands full.” Emily chuckled. “Quentin, Zeke, and now Darius. Good luck with that one!”

“Zeke is just a friend, which I think I’ve been pretty clear about.”

Emily turned forward, smiling, as Tommy snorted and stifled a similar grin from his side of the vehicle. “Mm-hmm,” Emily murmured.

By the time Leah squeezed into the car, Grace was not up for talking. Leah filled the time driving back to Woods Cross gushing about Brian’s new awareness of her. This time Grace was grateful for the ease with which Leah chattered. Periodically, Grace glanced over at Leah to give the impression she was listening when in actuality, all she could do was think about touching Darius, and the strange normalcy of it. Sadness consumed her as she mourned the relationship she could never have. She wasn’t normal. She hated being her.