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Every Last Kiss, Final Copy, June 30, 2011, Page 2

Courtney Cole


  I shook my head.

  “No thanks, Jess. I’m just going to suffer in silence tonight.” I looked at my driveway, where my mom’s shiny silver car was now parked. “And I won’t be alone, so you don’t have to worry. Thank you for coming over.”

  The smile that I gave her was starting to get a little watery. Uh-oh. I needed to make a run for it before I started bawling. I reached for the door handle.

  “Okay,” she reached over to hug me. “But don’t forget, Mace… this is his problem, not yours. You’re perfect and he’s an idiot. Call me if you need me.”

  I nodded and got out, rushing without a backward glance toward my brightly lit house.

  I’d barely stepped in the back door, though, before my mom waylaid me. So much for suffering in silence. My chattery mother didn’t know the meaning of the word.

  “Macy, is that you?” she shouted from the kitchen.

  “Yes,” I called as I kicked my shoes off inside the door.

  Who else would it be? My dad hasn’t stepped foot in this house since last year, something he complained about regularly since he still had to pay half of the mortgage payment. Mom appeared in the doorway with a piece of half-wilted lettuce in her hand.

  “Was that Jessa?”

  I nodded.

  “She missed her check-up today. She probably hasn’t been flossing and was afraid to see me.”

  That was probably exactly right. My mom had been Jess and Jenn’s dentist since they had cut their first teeth- and she regularly slapped them on the backs of their heads when they didn’t floss. Literally smacked them. Italians are colorful people.

  “Oh, hey. While I’m thinking about it… this was on the porch for you.”

  She ducked back into the kitchen and re-emerged holding a small brown box out to me. It had my first name written on the top in bold black marker and nothing else. I didn’t recognize the writing.

  I raised my eyebrows as I stared at her questioningly.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, honey. It’s yours. I didn’t open it. Maybe Derek left it for you as an apology.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly, but the interested expression on her face betrayed her. She was dying to know what it was.

  I carefully opened the top and peered inside. For all I knew, Tara had left me a bomb. But it was harmless. A necklace glittered within tissue-papered folds.

  “It’s a necklace,” I stated simply.

  Mom gave up on subtlety and yanked the box from my hands, pulling the odd necklace out to examine it in the light. It was the most unique stone I had ever seen… a dark red quartzy looking thing, the size of half my fist with veins of black running through it. It was beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it.

  “It’s a bloodstone,” mom observed. “You don’t see these much anymore. And they’re usually green, with only a little red. This one is very unique. It has to be from Derek. He knows how much you love old things.”

  And I did. I loved retro jewelry, vintage dresses, old movies. But I had just come from Derek’s house- and this box had hadn’t been on the step when I left.

  I shook my head. “Why wouldn’t he have left a note? Besides, it couldn’t be from him. I just came from there and he didn’t mention it.”

  Surprise filtered across her face as she studied mine.

  “Really? Do you want to talk about it?”

  My rebellious chest started to quake. No, I didn’t want to talk about it. And I didn’t want to break down, either. He didn’t deserve my tears. I took a few shaky breaths before I spoke, gripping my own hands tightly so that my mom wouldn’t see them shake.

  “No, thanks. I don’t want to waste any more time on him.”

  The words sounded wooden, my voice flat. I was surprised at my own ability to get through them without screaming or throwing something through the window. I was also surprised and overwhelmed by the level of emotions I had been consumed with today. For being an easy-going person, I was feeling uncharacteristically violent. It was mildly alarming, even if I did have a very good reason. My mom looked concerned at the look on my face. I rushed to reassure her.

  “I’m fine, mom. I’m just really tired of dealing with it right now. We can talk about it later, if you want. But I need a break from thinking about it. And if he comes here, please don’t let him in. I don’t want to see him. And the next time he comes in for a cavity, if he has the nerve to face you, that is… don’t give him any Novocain.”

  She nodded quietly and stepped forward to hug me. Her dark hair, just like mine, swung forward and brushed against my shoulder, bringing with it the scent of apples and strawberries.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. You didn’t deserve this. But it will be okay, I promise. If you need anything…” her voice trailed off uncertainly and I nodded.

  “I know. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.” How about a baseball bat for his car? Or a tire iron for his femurs?

  But obviously I didn’t say those things. If I did, my mother would stick to me like Velcro for the rest of the night. Instead, I just walked calmly past her and trudged toward my room.

  “Honey?”

  I turned back around.

  “You forgot this.” She put the necklace back into the box and handed it to me. “It must be from your dad or something. It looks expensive.”

  I nodded as I turned around again and trudged away. I needed to get far, far away from her pitying looks.

  Tossing the box onto my bed, I dropped next to it like a sack of bricks, my breath whooshing out of me. Regardless of the fact that it was only 6:00, I was bone-weary. I didn’t even take the time to take my clothes off or stop to pee. I knew that if I thought about this mess for one more second, I might start screaming. Ramming a pillow over my head to block out the dying sunlight, I closed my eyes and slipped mercifully into the silent oblivion of sleep.

  But sleep betrayed me. Dreams of Derek cheating on me plagued me off and on as I tossed and turned, slept and woke. Pissed off and frustrated at my subconscious psyche, I crammed the pillow over my head again, inhaling the cool, cottony smell of my sheets as I tried to ease myself back into slumber.

  Before long, a pair of dark eyes stared at me. Blinking, I walked toward them, and they morphed into a man. A breathtakingly beautiful man. I literally couldn’t breathe as I stepped up to him, the sunlight bouncing off of his angular handsome face. His dark eyes, almost black, sparkled in the sun as he pulled me close, his strong arms wrapping around my back. His scent was intoxicating and familiar and I buried my face in his chest.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured into my ear, his voice husky against my cheek. “Don’t leave me again…”

  My eyes snapped open and I stared at the green numbers on my alarm clock. 2:00 a.m. Who the heck was that? I had never met that man…but I knew him. The familiarity was unmistakable. It was so strong that it was overwhelming. And I was annoyed that I had woken up.

  But something had woken me. Something had pulled me from my delicious dream. And I knew it wasn’t a noise or a light that had disturbed me. It was a feeling. A strange feeling.

  It took me until 2:01 to wake up enough to realize that I was clutching the bloodstone necklace in my hand. Apparently, I had grabbed it in my sleep. The cool stone was polished and smooth in my palm and as I turned it over, vivid images assailed me like a lightning bolt. Sloe-eyed, dark skinned people, the heavy scent of jasmine and blue eye paint. I gasped just as soon as I could breathe again and dropped the stone onto the floor.

  What the hell was that? I could swear that I still smelled jasmine.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared at the necklace in the corner. If I didn’t know better, I would think that the red splotches were glowing, rising above the surface of the stone and pulsing. But that would be impossible. Or I was crazy. And that was entirely possible.

  I waited until my raspy breathing returned to normal and then curled up in bed. Every two seconds, I glanced back toward the n
ecklace. It was lying motionlessly on the floor, as innocuous as ever. And it was not glowing. Either I was crazy or I had imagined it. I finally drifted back off to sleep as I desperately tried to convince myself that I had dreamed the whole thing… because I didn’t like the alternative.

  CHAPTER TWO

  To: Macy Lockhart

  From: Jessa Gray

  Subject: Advice for the day

  Stop Obsessing. Seriously- I mean it. Jenn said to tell you that if we survive, we’ll stop back by your house to check on you after our yearly torture session (aka Getting dragged to the Gray Family Reunion kicking and screaming).

  Love ya!

  Jess (aka The hotter Gray sister)

  I rolled my eyes. Jess was made of drama…everything she said or did was usually blown way out of proportion.

  She and her sister, Jenn were identical- from the tips of their delicate noses to their size 6.5 feet. Very few people could tell them apart so they were definitely on an equal ‘hotness’ plane, although Jess always insisted that she was the beauty queen in the family. It made me laugh.

  Suddenly, though, an image flashed through my mind that instantly stilled my smile. Green street signs, 34th and Elm, were being pelted with rain. My knees turned weak as I saw a black SUV barreling toward the intersection. And Jenn. She turned, her face frozen with surprise and fear. She scrambled backward, slipping in the rain and fell to the street- directly into the path of the SUV. I squeezed my eyes closed. And the vision stopped.

  Oh my God. Jenn. Did I just have a premonition? What the hell was happening to me? I wasn’t even touching the stupid pendant and my thoughts were being invaded by…strangeness.

  Something was definitely wrong with me. And every ounce of my being told me that it had something to do with the anonymous gift left on my porch. My heart was still pounding as I started clicking my mouse and within seconds, I was faced with hundreds of web pages devoted to bloodstones.

  I clicked on one.

  Bloodstone makes one more knowledgeable in ways of the world.

  Hmm. As in seeing strange visions of the future? I kept reading.

  Bloodstone is a hero’s stone and instills courage. Bloodstone enables one to see the benefits and patterns of change and to recognize the ‘turmoil prior to perfection’. Ancient Middle Eastern civilizations believed that wearing bloodstone could promote wisdom, protect from evil spirits and undo what had already been done. Bloodstone can help the wearer find what is lost.

  I sat back in my chair. Interesting. It was quite a piece of jewelry. Too bad it was all superstition and ancient mystical folklore. But still.

  Prior to the bloodstone’s entrance into my life, I had never had even one crazy vision. Now, it was like a floodgate had opened- I couldn’t stop them. And I couldn’t help but remember how the veins in the stone had throbbed wildly last night, glowing as if blood actually pulsed through them. It gave me shivers just thinking about it.

  A bloodstone. Even the name sounded…ominous.

  I glanced into the corner of my bedroom. It was still there, lying right where I had tossed it last night. It seemed perfectly harmless- there was no glowing, no throbbing veins. I sighed a long sigh and got up. There was no way I was going to be able to leave this be. I was just that compulsive.

  Hunching over it, I poked it with my finger. Nothing happened. No strange visions, no throbbing stone. I chewed on my lip then took a big breath- and picked it up. Almost instantly, white-hot heat rushed into my fingertips from the stone itself, racing up my arm and spreading throughout my entire body, radiating from my shoulder. I couldn’t even breathe as vivid images assailed me.

  A woman crying, dark eyes, swords, soldiers, blood…. the images broke apart and swirled together. I closed my eyes as the sensations became almost too much to bear, overwhelmed with waves of emotion too great to comprehend. I almost couldn’t stand it.

  I forced my stiff fingers open and I dropped the bloodstone to the floor once again. It nestled quietly between my feet on the carpet as though it was a perfectly normal necklace. But it wasn’t. I didn’t know what exactly it was, but normal it was not.

  My breathing came in ragged gasps and I tried to calm myself by taking cleansing breaths. Cleansing breath in, cleansing breath out. It didn’t work. Panic still overwhelmed me. What the hell was that? Apparently, it needed to be in contact with my skin in order to… do what it did, whatever that was. So, I carefully picked it up using a pair of clean underwear and hid it in my underwear drawer next to my cotton-candy colored bra.

  But I couldn’t shake the dark eyes so easily. They were still haunting me from my dream. Deep and dark- almost black, they were the color of melted dark chocolate, surrounded by a fringe of thick lashes. The expression in them had been familiar, loving. I knew him. Who the heck was it? I rushed through every memory that I’ve ever had and came up empty.

  And then a realization emerged out of nowhere, firmly planted front and center in my mind as if it was dropped there. I had dreamed about that stare before, off and on for years. The dark eyes of a stranger that I apparently knew, but couldn’t remember. Intriguing. And frustrating.

  My sense of wonder was rudely interrupted by a loud buzz on my dresser. I got up to find a text message waiting for me- an annoying text message from a pale, blonde cheater.

  Please, Macy. Can we go have coffee? I need to explain.

  Oh My God. What did he not understand? I never wanted to see him again- except for school when I absolutely had to. He had thrown away two good years for an orange colored tramp. And she definitely was a tramp. She had the stamp on her back to prove it. I saw it on her back in gym one day when her shirt slid up.

  Tramp stamp, fake boobs, overly-tanned skin…that whole mess was his to own- I was so done with it. Besides, I had other things to worry about now—like a pair of dark, brooding eyes and an insane necklace.

  I typed back Leave me alone and resisted the urge to throw my phone at the wall.

  What was it about relationships that made you feel so vulnerable? Oh, right. A relationship. In any relationship, you put yourself out there. You exposed all of your sensitive nerve endings and your heart and you just had to hope that you trusted the right person. Stupid me, I didn’t. But I wouldn’t make that same mistake twice.

  I wasn’t going to dwell on that now, however, despite my own obsessive nature. I had a much bigger problem than Derek hidden in my underwear drawer. It was a mystery that wasn’t going to solve itself. But before I could think about it for one second longer, I needed sustenance. My stomach was loudly reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet today.

  After yanking a hairbrush through my long hair, I pulled it into a low ponytail and threw some clothes on. There was a tiny deli just a few minutes away and I could hear a toasted portabella sandwich calling my name. Grabbing my keys, I ducked out to the garage.

  And froze.

  A man with a shaved head and long black robes stared at me. His dark face was damp with sweat and thick black eye makeup lined his eyes. A subtle musky scent permeated the air like incense. He didn’t even look startled to see me- he just stared at me calmly, as though he had been waiting for me.

  “All was lost, Charmian.”

  His grave voice was stark, slicing through the garage with hissing precision. Just as I collected myself enough to scream, he was gone.

  As in…disappeared. He didn’t walk past me to get into the house and there was no way that he exited through the garage door because it was still closed. I quickly walked a circle around my car. He was just gone.

  Holy Mary Mother of God. Had I gone crazy ? Had this whole mess with Derek stressed me out so much that I had lost my mind?

  I sat down on the step with a whoosh.

  Should I call the police? And tell them what? That some man wearing makeup and strange long robes was in my house and then disappeared into thin air? And if I added the fact that some strange necklace was giving me vis
ions, they would strap me to a gurney and send me to a place where lunch consisted of small orange pills.

  What to do, what to do. I picked up my phone with shaking hands and dialed… but it went straight to Jessa’s voicemail. The Gray family reunion….I forgot. There was no use calling Jenn, then. She was there, too. I didn’t want to call my mother- she would rush home from running errands and then promptly call one of her psychiatrist friends.

  As I was debating with myself, something rustled behind me, a strange whisper-like sound and I spun around.

  Nothing.

  The oddly dressed man wasn’t standing there, which was good…but there was also nothing else to explain the sound. And I knew, beyond any doubt, that it had been real. I scrambled up and looked behind every nook and cranny in the garage, kitchen and family room. Nothing.

  It was official. I was crazy.

  And about to get crazier.

  I suddenly felt an inexplicable pull- the need to begin walking, as though I was being pulled by an invisible cord. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the same sensations that I had experienced when I held the bloodstone. I couldn’t resist it. I felt like some sort of freakish robot as my feet began moving on their own accord, one after the other; through the kitchen, up the stairs and finally stopping in front of my closed bedroom door.

  As I stared at the wood grain, I knew beyond any doubt that I hadn’t left it closed. So, the burning question was…who had closed it?

  My heart started pounding and I pushed the door open.

  Nothing.

  Not a thing was out of place. My bed was made and my room was neat, except for the shoes scattered on the floor. Most importantly, though, it was empty. I almost took a deep breath of relief.

  But then the whispering began again. All around me… raspy whispering with incoherent, foreign words, getting louder and louder. The room seemed to spin and suddenly I was moving again, toward my dresser. My hand didn’t even feel attached to me as it reached out, pulling open a drawer.

  The bloodstone glowed wildly from among my panties, the veins pulsating. I couldn’t help myself- I reached out my shaking fingers and wrapped them around the stone. It felt like I was holding a beating heart in my hand.