A Touch Mortal

A Touch Mortal - By Leah Clifford


CHAPTER 1





Eden dug her hand into the damp sand, black polish chipping off the tips of her fingernails. The sand was cold, the beach pockmarked by late afternoon raindrops. A gust of wind ruffled through her dark hair. Eden sighed.

Last month there had been a string of parties, out-of-control times. She checked her phone. No missed calls. She couldn’t figure out what she’d done to get the cold shoulder from everyone the last few weeks. Even her mom no longer questioned where she was, if she was even alive.

Screw them. I just have to hang on until graduation and I’m out, she thought, trying to convince herself she’d make it that long. An entire year. But then she could hit the road, go somewhere else where every day wasn’t bullshit. Start over.

Even in her head the words sounded like lies. It wasn’t like she had a college fund, or could take off to some faraway campus. She didn’t have the grades to get in anyway.

So that’s the extent of your brilliant plan? Eden sifted her fingers through the sand, coming back to the same facts. No car. No money. No job. If she got lucky, she’d spend the next fifty years working the front desk at one of the hotels in this crappy tourist town.

Her mind went to her other option, the one she considered more every day. What was the difference between feeling dead, knowing her whole life would be that way, and actually being dead? It wasn’t like anyone would miss her. They clearly didn’t now.

This time she didn’t push the idea away. She wanted the thought of death to hold some thrill, terror. Wrongness. Instead, it held an empty acceptance her body ached for.

She dug her fingers deeper, and something distinctly not sand hit her fingers.

“Sick.” She yanked up her hand, taking a cluster of decayed scales with her. The wind changed direction, bringing the faint smell of salty dead fish. “Little late for the warning,” she muttered, scanning the area for an abandoned towel, anything to wipe off the goo. She grabbed a soggy magazine page out of the sand and tried to scrape her fingers clean. “God, can nothing go right?”

As if in answer, Eden’s skin prickled. She raised her head.

The beach had cleared out while the sun finished setting. Only two couples remained, but she could barely make out their horizontal outlines in the darkness. Carnival sounds and the scents of popcorn and cotton candy floated down from the boardwalk. There were two guys walking close to the water’s edge coming down the beach. They were still a good fifty feet away, but closing the distance. She watched them for a moment, wondering if she knew them. They seemed to be heading right for her.

Eden rolled her eyes once she realized she didn’t recognize them, preparing herself. It was Jersey; getting hassled by guys was just another fact of summer. She normally put a few hours’ effort into achieving her normal balance between the fashionable “leave me alone” and a more stylish “I’m not afraid to knee your groin.” Lately though, even makeup seemed like too much work. She settled for a glare, hoping it would be enough.

The blond one was in a dark green polo, the color setting off his hazel eyes. With the short sleeves and his tattered-to-be-trendy jeans, he had to have been freezing. Suffering just to pander to underage cheerleaders. Clearly a winner, she thought, and then second-guessed herself. Something about him set her gaydar screaming. Lovers’ stroll? She eyed the other one. Brown curls, dark sweater, paired with cargo pants. Be gay. Be gay and keep walking. He noticed her giving him the once-over and smiled in a way no gay boy in history had ever smiled at a girl. She shifted her eyes back to the water, but they stopped next to her. Perfect.

When she turned toward them, the one who had smiled at her brushed his hair back from his face.

“Your eyes are blue, like the ocean.” She raised an eyebrow in annoyance, unable to believe he went with a line so pathetic. Slightly behind him, the other’s mouth cocked an apologetic half smile. At least he knew his friend was an idiot. “I think I’m lost at sea,” lover boy continued, his voice sincere. A snort of laughter burst from somewhere between her throat and nose.

“You can’t be serious.” She stood, brushing the sand from her black leggings.

“Damn. Gabriel, did you hear that? That was the sound of my heart shattering.” His face twisted in mock pain. He gripped his sweater so tightly it left behind divots. Next to him, Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Az.”

“F*ck off,” Eden enunciated each word, trying not to sound as amused as she was. “The water’s not even blue, jackass.”

She turned toward the stairs to the boardwalk and the guy grabbed her arm. Even through the material of her thermal top, his fingers were frigid. He offered up another smile and shrugged. “‘Storm-tossed’ seemed a bit cliché.”

Her lips twitched before she could stop them.

“Was that a smile?” He dipped a bit, studying her face.

She fought the treasonous grin, managed to smother it away. “Are you kidding me with this?”

She met his eyes for the first time. He jerked forward suddenly, more of a stumble than a step, as if she’d yanked him closer by some invisible string. She should have shot off some comment about staying out of her personal space but the retorts vanished, her thoughts melting away like scorched snowflakes. It was almost too bad his pick-up lines weren’t as pretty as his eyes. Their color like cooled anger. Blue sea glass.

“Wow,” she whispered. He looked equally stunned, his smile bringing out dimples so subtle she hadn’t noticed them until now. How could she not have noticed them?

“Az, stop.” The voice was faraway. She didn’t bother to really register it at all, just let it slide by as she sank deeper into those eyes. Nothing’s wrong, she wanted to say. Everything’s perfect.

“I’m not doing anything, Gabriel,” he said slowly. She couldn’t take her eyes off Az. A tingle started deep in her chest. She gasped as everything inside her seemed to come back to life, shift into place.

“Who are you?” Az asked, his words coming honey slow.

“No one,” she managed. “Nothing.” She hesitated before she ripped her gaze away, dizziness rolling in as the connection broke.

A pressure at her elbow held her upright as she slumped, unsteady. It was the blond one, Gabriel.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” She pulled her arm away slowly, trying to get her bearings. What the hell had that been? Az reached out to her, concern in his eyes. She stepped back, unsure and off-kilter.

“You look kinda shaky,” Gabriel said. He’d moved aside, but looked ready to step in if her legs gave out. Luckily, they seemed to be in working order again.

“Dinner,” she said. “I haven’t eaten yet.” Wasn’t even hungry, her brain spat out, let alone starving enough to hallucinate some dreamy lost-in-his-eyes stare down with a stranger. She pushed away any contradictions, forcing the excuse into reality. Just hungry. Which didn’t do much to explain how different she’d felt.

How alive.

“Would you let me take you out to dinner, then?”

She glanced up at Az, expecting the same rush when their eyes met, not sure whether to be disappointed when it didn’t come. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” He offered her a tentative smile. His hand hovered there between them, looking more orphaned as the seconds passed. But he didn’t move, a picture of patience as he waited. “Tell you what. You don’t smile, and dinner’s off.”

“Don’t smile?” She stared at him in confusion. “Easy enough. Why the hell would I have dinner with you, anyway?”

“Because I’m an amusing young gentleman wooing you into a better mood. Because, with your high standard of pick-up lines, I think you’d be able to hold a decent conversation.” He shrugged, his eyes dancing. “Because I’m paying?”

Eden crossed her arms, rubbing her lips together to crush his victory before it fully formed.

“Did I just see one?” He tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “Was that a yes?”

“Damn it,” she said, giving up, letting the smile break loose.

His own grin brought back the dimples.