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Angel Fire

L. A. Weatherly

Page 102

 

  Seb sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets as we started walking again. “Don’t blame yourself,” he said, sounding tired. “You’re the kindest person I know – you would never have touched him if you’d realized. ”

  Even now, he could read my thoughts so easily. So what? I wanted to say. I’ve still been causing only god knows what damage to the boy I love more than anything. I didn’t bother saying the words out loud. And when it came to Mom, I couldn’t think about it at all. I just. . . couldn’t.

  We neared the house; it looked as vacant as always. I hesitated outside for a moment, the cool Mexico City breeze stirring my hair. I had the file buttoned up under my jacket again, and I touched my chest, feeling its cardboard outline. I wanted to see Alex so badly, and at the same time I dreaded it more than anything in the world.

  Please still be angry at me, I thought. Please – that’ll make it so much easier for us both. Otherwise, I could hardly stand the thought of what I was going to have to do.

  “Seb, will you help, if I need you to?” I asked finally, my voice faint.

  “Yes, I’ll help. ” But his face looked troubled; I could feel that he hated this almost as much as I did.

  When we went inside, Kara was sitting at the kitchen table with her head slumped on one hand, an untouched cup of coffee in front of her. Her chin jerked up as she saw us, her brown eyes going wide.

  “Hi,” I said. “We, um. . . we ran into some trouble. ” Remembering the blasts that had trembled through the cathedral – the screams, the bodies – my voice came out sounding thin and unreal.

  Kara slowly shook her head; she hadn’t stopped staring at us. “Oh my god, you’re really okay,” she murmured. To my surprise, a broad smile grew across her face. “Listen, I know someone who is going to be very pleased to see you!” She leaped up, sending her chair skidding. “Alex!” she bellowed in the direction of the boys’ dorm. “Alex, Willow’s here!”

  Apprehension and longing filled me. I swallowed and took the file out from under my jacket, setting it on the kitchen table. Though Seb was standing several feet away, I could sense his concern. Kara turned to me with a relieved grin. “He was out all night looking for you. He just got back about an hour ago – I’ve never been so worried about him, not even after Jake died. He was sure you’d been killed—”

  “Willow!” Alex burst into the kitchen. His gorgeous face was bruised and burned; there were dark circles under his eyes – and his aura had exactly the damage in it that Seb had described. I had a heart-wrenching glimpse of tarnished blues and golds, and then Alex had scooped me up into his arms before I could stop him. “Oh, Jesus, you’re alive—” I could feel him shaking as he held me, and for a helpless moment I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him back. I pressed my head tightly against his warm neck; the hard strength of his shoulder. Alex.

  “Willow, I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—” He buried his fingers in my hair as he kissed my cheeks, my eyes, my mouth. “I’ve been such an idiot. Please, please, forgive me. ”

  Kara had tactfully melted away somewhere. Seb still stood near the table, his face expressionless – and I knew to my absolute dismay that I was going to need him there to make this believable.

  It took every molecule of strength that I had to pull myself away from Alex. “Don’t, um. . . don’t do that, please,” I said, taking a step back.

  He froze as if I’d just cracked a slap across his face. I saw his throat move. “Willow, I. . . I know I’ve been acting like a controlling jerk. You’re right to still be angry at me – if you never forgave me, I’d deserve it. But—” He glanced at Seb with a sudden frown, and gently put his hand on my shoulder. “Look, let’s go someplace private, where we can talk— ” He broke off as I shook away from his touch.

  “No, don’t. I mean. . . thanks, but there’s no point. ”

  “No point?” he echoed, staring at me.

  I tried to make my voice sound normal, as if I wasn’t dying inside. “No, there isn’t,” I said. “Alex, I’m really sorry, but. . . ”

  He looked from me to Seb. His eyes widened. “No,” he breathed. “No way. ”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “It just happened. ” And the fact that something really had happened made my cheeks flush guiltily. I used it, hurrying on before I could weaken. “Last night we were hiding out, and. . . somehow we started kissing. One thing kind of led to another, and. . . ” I trailed off; I couldn’t finish. The frozen look on Alex’s face – the stunned hurt, the anguished disbelief – was killing me.

  “One thing led to another,” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” I got out. “I still really care about you, but. . . I just can’t help what I feel for him. I’m sorry. ”

  He slowly shook his head, like a dazed animal. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you and he—” He moved so quickly I hardly saw it; suddenly he had Seb slammed up against the wall with a thud that echoed through the kitchen. He spat something in Spanish; the muscles in his arms were rock hard. Seb didn’t move, didn’t try to defend himself.

  “Alex, no!” I tugged uselessly at his arm. “Please, stop – it’s just the way I feel; I can’t help it!”

  He and Seb were inches apart; Alex’s jaw was rigid as he stared at him. Finally he let go of Seb with a shove.

  “So let me get this straight,” he said. “While I was out all night in the middle of riots looking for you, going out of my mind, thinking maybe you were lying somewhere dead. . . you and Seb were—” He broke off as a muscle in his jaw leaped; turned away and raked a hand through his hair, breathing hard. When he spoke again his words were flat, dead. “Okay, got it. That’s really good to know. Thanks for coming here to tell me what a fool I’ve been. ”

  “Alex. . . ” I was close to tears; Seb must have sensed I was wavering. He put his arms around me from behind, drawing me close. I leaned against his chest, and wrapped my arms around his to hide my trembling.

  “It’s all right, chiquita,” he said, kissing my head. “Sorry, man,” he added to Alex. “These things happen, you know?”

  Chiquita. It was Spanish for “babe”; Alex’s word for me. He stiffened, nostrils flaring, so that for a second I thought he was going to punch Seb even with me in front of him. “No,” he said suddenly. “No, I am not just going to stand here and—”

  He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from Seb, hands tight on my arms. “Look me in the eyes, Willow,” he demanded. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you really don’t love me as much as I love you. I don’t believe it – I don’t care what you did with him, I don’t believe it—”

  I loved him so totally that I knew he must see it written all over my face; must feel it even through my clothes, burning out of me like the sun. In another second I was going to blurt out the truth. Alex would argue with me; he’d tell me that his sick-looking aura had nothing to do with me at all – that his migraines were only a coincidence. I wouldn’t be able to resist him a second time. I’d just curl up in his arms for the rest of my life, like I was a fraction away from doing now.