Chapter 20
20
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O n Tuesday the following week, after my second class, I head to the courtyard and FaceTime with Mom. It’s her day off, and I reach her while she’s catching up on some Real Housewives of Salt Lake City . I check in, asking about her symptoms. I keep waiting to hear about the tingling and fatigue, the usual signs that I need to make another trip home, but based on what she says, her MS hasn’t been bad since my last visit. I’m hopeful maybe we can make it to the holidays, at least.
I tell her about the test I just crushed when she suddenly eyes me suspiciously and says, “Why are you smiling so much today?”
I’ve noticed that look the last few times we’ve chatted, when she’s asked about my plans for the evening or if I’ve made any new friends—not the kinds of questions she normally asks. She’s probing for something.
“Guess I’m just feeling good today,” I lie.
I know why I’m feeling good. Because I’m only one more class away from meeting up with Luke at the library so we can chill…and, well, not chill together.
“Okay, it’s more than that,” I confess. “There’s a guy, since I know that’s what you keep dancing around.”
Her eyes widen. “A guy? Really?” she says, appearing genuinely shocked.
“Why are you acting surprised? This is what you’ve been hinting around all week.”
“I figured that’s what it was, but I wasn’t expecting you to tell me this soon. You’ve never mentioned a guy to me before.”
She grins like she already knows how into Luke I must be to tell her that. And I must admit, I’m getting pretty hung up on him.
Even with all the Sinners bullshit we have to navigate, I like spending time with him. Getting to know him better. Finding out the little things about him. Like how he needs his bangs to have that perfect curl in front. Or that he owns, like, five black thermal sweaters, which look the same, but I can see why they’re his favorite because they definitely show off his assets best. Or trying to guess how long I’ll see him with the book he’s reading—the one from last night might last until tomorrow.
And now that I’m thinking about those things, I’m smiling even more.
“So how do you know him?” Mom presses.
For some reason, that sets me on edge.
I met him because I’m part of a group that fucks around with magic, and we’re pretty sure between our botched spell and this guy arriving at the school, an evil monster has escaped from an alternate dimension, and we’re trying to stop it from going on a killing spree.
Not the kind of thing to tell Mom, you know?
“We go to the same school. Not a big mystery, is it?” I shrug.
“You planning to bring him home for Thanksgiving break or maybe Christmas?”
“It’s kinda early for that. He has an uncle he might spend it with, but…I’d like to introduce you two. I think you’ll like him.”
“Going by the good mood you’ve been in the past few weeks, I like him already.”
I can’t help grinning, a big, goofy grin, the sort only Luke can put on my face.
And really, it’s nice having this kind of conversation with Mom, when she’s healthy and in good spirits. Reminds me how far we’ve come from the bullshit Dad put us through.
*
“You guys gonna make out as soon as I leave?” Matteo asks as he packs extra clothes into his bookbag.
Luke scoops some pad thai out of his container with chopsticks. “You think we’re only gonna make out?” he asks before taking a bite, which makes Matteo laugh.
“Knew I liked this guy.” Matteo has quickly warmed up to Luke, and even now, on a Tuesday night, I know he’s made plans so we can have our space.
“You can stay, though,” I say.
“So you guys have to creep over to the showers and sneak around? Please. No. Besides, I’m really into this new girl, Lena. She’s a lot of fun, so for the same reason Luke would rather be over here, I’d rather be with her. And I don’t need to be around you now that I know about these mystical powers you have…” I tense up, thrown by the comment, before he goes on, “…to sway the straights into needing it up the ass.”
“What—I did not ever say that,” I tell Luke, hoping he knows I wasn’t going around blabbing about our private conversations. And especially not anything to do with powers. Or him bottoming.
Luke chuckles. “Relax. When you went downstairs to grab the Asian fusion, I may have mentioned I thought I was straight before I met you. But now I know I’m definitely not.”
“You don’t have to call your bi hookup Straight Boy in secret anymore,” Matteo says with a wink.
So clearly Luke told him about the nickname too.
“He’s not a hookup,” I snap.
“Ooh, careful,” Matteo says. “I was just gauging where you’re at, but you need to cool it down around this guy, or he’s gonna know you caught some serious feels.”
“Shut up,” I say, but Luke’s smirking.
Like he doesn’t already know.
“Okay, I’m done ragging on you,” Matteo says. “I’m gonna head out. If I stick around much longer, you might use your evil powers to rope me into a threesome.”
We all laugh, and he tosses his bag over his shoulder, leaving Luke and me to ourselves.
“You told him about Straight Boy?”
He shrugs. “Just as a funny thing. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be uncomfortable with that.”
“I’m not,” I assure him. “Just not something I thought you’d be chatting with Matteo about. When he said that about magical powers, I was worried I’d said something—”
“Oh, trust me, I knew what you were thinking, and I was trying to psychically project to you not to blurt anything out.”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, I like that you and Matteo get along. Wish Alexei was this cool about us hanging at your place.”
“Guess I’m more likable than you,” Luke says with a shrug. “Or maybe it has something to do with when you were an asshat to me during those pickup games.”
“Yeah, but Alexei and I have always been cool with each other. We’ve hung out because of the games, and also had some classes together. It’s weird suddenly being on his shit list.”
“He’s nice when you come over.”
“He’s polite ,” I clarify. “But he feels off, and like he wants to go somewhere else, and not in the way Matteo is trying to get out of our hair.”
“I’m confident that if you guys hang out enough, after a while, he’ll get used to you again. And he’ll realize you’re really good to me.”
“I am really good to you,” I say, which makes him smile, but just as quickly it fades and he groans.
“This sucks. I don’t want to train tonight. I want to just lie here and watch a movie.”
Meditating has been far from relaxing for Luke. I feel for him.
“Maybe tonight we could stay in.”
Seth and Cody wouldn’t be happy with that, but Luke’s only human. We’ve been trying since last week, and if Luke’s really this frustrated, maybe it will be a waste of time anyway.
“No, I need to go,” Luke says, fishing at his pad thai with his chopsticks.
“Hey,” I say, reaching over and resting my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right there with you.”
His lips twist into a smirk, and he nods. “Just not how I figured I’d be spending the first semester at St. Lawrence.”
I trail my hand to the back of his neck and offer a gentle rub, leaning close and kissing his cheek.
After we finish up dinner, we prep, then head out to the old church.
While we assume our usual positions, I receive a text from Seth: Good luck tonight. Keep us posted. I’ve been getting these sorts of texts since we started Luke’s sessions.
“That Seth?”
I nod, and I can see the frustration in his expression, like he already knows tonight is gonna be another failure.
“Wish me luck,” he says.
I get out of my meditation pose and crawl close to him so that my lips are right in front of his. “Good luck,” I say before planting a kiss on his lips.
I can feel his tension and uneasiness, but the more we kiss, the more he relaxes, and once I feel he’s eased up enough, I pull back, enjoying his smile as I cross my legs.
Luke closes his eyes, and I direct him through his breathing to start, like I usually do. He’s not cracking any jokes or shifting around, just obeys my instructions, and once he’s into it, I close my eyes and try to quiet my mind.
It’s not easy. I have plenty of my own bullshit rattling around in here…memories of my dad being an ass to me.
“You’re just like your mother.”
“The world’s not gonna be nice to you just because you’re my son.”
“Such a waste that you’re the one to carry my family name.”
Words that are always there, in the back of my mind, haunting me.
“Fuck,” Luke mutters, and I open my eyes. His eyes are closed, his expression twisted up, his cross floating up near his chin. He’s using his powers without touching me, seemingly without even realizing it. He raises his hand and hits his palm against his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters.
“Hey, hey.” I lean over and rest my hand against his wrist, which rests on his knee.
“I need a break,” he says, and opens his eyes.
I’m expecting to see his blue irises, but his eyes—even the whites—are pitch black. For a moment I think it must be in my head, but Luke’s eyes widen, and he searches desperately around the room.
“No, no, no!” he calls out.
“Luke?”
He thrashes about, pulling away from my hand and screaming, “Make it stop! Make it fucking stop!” His hands cover his face as he calls out, and then he pulls them away and the black is gone. I’m relieved, but that only lasts a moment because he continues searching the room, catching his breath.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asks.
“You were using your powers. Your necklace was floating without you touching me. But other than that, I don’t know. You tell me.”
His gaze keeps shifting about, like he’s still trapped in what just happened. “The memory I told you about the first time we tried this… Every time we’ve come here, I try to focus on my breathing, but that memory keeps coming back. And the harder I try to push it away, the more intense it becomes. This time, though, I was sucked back to the worst of my pain—like when Cody brought it up in the showers. And then when your hand rested on me, something happened. Not a memory. I was right there in that moment, and I wanted to get out. But when I opened my eyes, I was still there, sitting at Dad’s funeral.”
“I’m so sorry, Luke.”
“No, I had this realization—it’s that thing you described, where you know but don’t know how you know, like in a dream. I think that memory is what’s keeping me from having the Moment. I must face it. Sit with the pain and despair of it until I get through to the other side.”
Even as he says the words, I see the terror in his expression.
“Does that sound right?” he asks, as if wishing it wouldn’t be true.
“I’m not sure. For me, I didn’t have to face any bad memories to have the Moment, but you’re not experiencing any of this like we did, so it could be that you have to do something different to get there.”
“Fuck,” he says, his chin quivering. “Not that. Anything but that.”
“Oh, Luke…”
He pulls away and pushes to his feet, heading toward the other side of the cellar, and I let him have his space. I wish I could tell him he’s wrong, that he might have misinterpreted what he just felt, but I know better. I know what those kinds of realizations feel like, and if he picked it up that strongly, it’s likely he’s right.
“You said my necklace was floating?”
“Yeah.”
He tears up. “I don’t want to do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything right away.”
“What choice do I have? I can’t let this go on any longer. We both know what will happen if I don’t find a way to get on top of this.”
We do, and he wouldn’t be the Luke I know if he didn’t consider that over himself. But in this moment, I selfishly want him to do what’s best for himself.
He takes a few more seconds before returning to me and sitting back down. His expression is full of worry; he won’t look at me, and when he does, I notice a tear break free, slide down his cheek.
“Do you need me to do anything for you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. When you touched me, that’s when I knew I needed to do it on my own. No shortcut. The only path is through. The only way to have this Moment is to walk through the fires of hell.” He shakes his head. “Fuck my life.”
Silence stretches between us as my heart breaks for him. This is wrong. He shouldn’t have to do this. No one should have to relive the worst moments of their life.
“You should go,” he whispers.
“What?”
“It’s gonna be bad. Really bad.”
“I want to be here for you.”
“I know you do.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “And that’s very sweet of you, but I don’t want you to see me like this.”
That, I have to respect, but I have other concerns. “I want to be nearby. At least, in case something happens.”
“Maybe you can wait upstairs. Listen out? But you can’t come in unless I call for you. I have a feeling it’s gonna be painful. Excruciating, so even when it’s hard, you must let me feel it.”
I dread the thought of hearing him in pain. Will I be able to stop myself from bursting in when it was hard enough just to let him continue meditating when I saw he was distressed?
“You can’t disturb me too soon. This is what has to happen. The only way. And I don’t know that I can do this more than once.”
There’s not a trace of doubt in his tone. He knows what needs to be done, and it’s clear he’s doing this whether I want him to or not.
I cup his cheek, running my thumb across his smooth flesh.
“A little kiss before you go?” he asks.
I don’t give him a little one.
But despite his enthusiastic response, this isn’t like before we started this session. He stays tense, on edge.
I accept that my kiss isn’t enough to make that better, and when I pull away, he wears a solemn expression. “Go on. I’ll be okay,” he assures me, which only makes me feel like this is gonna be so much worse than I can imagine.
I grab my things and head upstairs, taking one of the desk chairs with me and setting it up on the other side of the door. I keep the room illuminated with my phone light, mentally prepping myself for whatever we’re about to experience.
It’s quiet for some time, giving me hope that maybe it won’t be as bad as Luke thought. But then I hear grunts, groans, and cursing before a wave of pain hits me, followed by an anguished cry from the cellar. It shakes me to my core, and I clench my fists, starting to my feet.
As Luke screams again, there’s another jolt of pain. I grab the doorknob but stop myself. There’s an impulse in me to just say fuck what we agreed upon and get down there and end his pain, but then I remember what he said: I need to keep it together. He’ll do this on his own.
Over my dead body.
“Fuck,” he calls out, followed by another cry.
I clutch the doorknob and press up against the door, gritting my teeth, knowing instinctively that the worst is yet to come.