Chapter Twenty-One
Cade
T he way Sky flits from one class to the next, the way she pulls open doors, even the way she blinks, tells me our kiss did nothing to her, and that I’ve made the right decision. But just because I got my classes changed to stay away from her, doesn’t mean I can’t watch her.
I pull my fingers from the shelf of books, and a residue of dust coats the tips. Apparently, Ms. Lynn, the librarian, can’t reach to dust up this high. Which makes sense, seeing as how I’m six-foot-one to her five-foot. Sometimes my height has its perks, other times it does not. Like now. It’s exceptionally hard to stalk Sky when even crouching could give me away. But I’m making it work.
I slink down to the end of the stack and peer around the corner. She’s currently at a low lit table with a few books in front of her. I wouldn’t have pegged her as studious, but then again, I pegged her as a vanilla ice cream girl, and instead she went with rocky road. She’s defying all my assumptions, and it only makes my need to watch her more imposing. I should be doing my own course work, or adding to my crate, but instead I’m tethered to her as if I’m wearing a leash. It’s a fucking affliction I can’t shake.
When I’m not following her, I’m thinking about her. About those pouty lips that tasted like the promised land and how my ill-omened essence felt light for the first time. I can’t sleep, resorting to almost depleting my sleeping pills. But even when sleep finally finds me, I dream of her, of watching her. I’m in her room as she breathes softly, her delicate chest rising and falling while I stand in the shadows and admire her. I wake up so hard it hurts, and I have no choice but to grip myself until the ache subsides.
I suddenly clench my jaw. She’s gathering her hair, snapping a hair tie around those golden locks. It’s bad enough that she just exists, but when she moves her hair, jesus, I want to fall to my knees.
A goddess.
A false goddess.
A false goddess that was sent to undo me.
I recoil behind the shelf and lean back against the books. This is torture. I can’t look any longer. She’s killing me. It’s taking every ounce of restraint I have to not go over there, wrap her hair around my fist, yank her head back, and put my tongue in her mouth.
But that would be a mistake.
I have plans that an angel can’t come with me through. And I refuse to be derailed by enlightenment.
I should have never kissed her.
How many times are we taught to never do drugs, that just one time can get you hooked? I should have known better. Maybe I don’t even deserve Valedictorian.
“Hey, Cade.”
I whip my head and come face to face with green eyes. They run down me in a way that makes my skin want to shrivel up.
“Doing a little—” Britney stops, her gaze frozen below my belt.
God, damn it. I might be a little firm, and pressing against the seam of my pants. Fucking Sky.
“Wow, you really are a pervert.” She smiles in that evil way of hers, like she was taught by the spawn of satan on how to make a smile drip with disdain.
Little does she know she’s fucking with someone much more sinister.
I shoot out a hand and grab her arm, wrenching her three stacks over before she draws anymore attention. She struggles, but I dig my fingers into the soft of her flesh, daring her to make me touch her anymore than I have to. I won’t be so gentle if I have to subdue her.
“Oh, my God. What is wrong with you?” she shrieks.
Everything.
When I let her go—which isn’t fast enough in my opinion—she rubs her arm and narrows her eyes at me, those green beads making me sick. She’s one of them —a target and not collateral. One of the X’d out faces in last year’s yearbook. One of the main people who spread my pictures.
“You are such a freak,” she says.
“Yes. I am.” I back away from her, not wanting anything to do with her. “So stay the fuck away from me.”
I feel her eyes burn into the back of my hood as I make my way out of the library. My cover is blown for now, but maybe it’s for the best. Encounters like that are the reason I stay in my shack. Plus, I need to release some tension…
Once I’m under the canopy of trees, I breathe a little better, lower my hood, and make my way to the pine tree. It’s past the shack by a mile, but it has the oldest roots of all the trees and stretches high beyond the others, like a watchful grandfather, giving the saplings something to strive for.
I don’t know what that shit was with Britney. Typically, I’m invisible—I’ve made it just so. And she hasn’t spoken to me since Sophomore year. Not since she held her phone out in front of her, showing me what everyone thought was so funny. So why the fuck did she have the audacity to approach me? Did she see me watching Sky?
I slam my foot against the thick trunk and heave myself up to the first branch, letting the bark bite into my palm as I pull myself up. I push off with a leap and grab the next branch. I do this over and again, until I’m midway up and pause to look down. I’m probably ten feet up, but I’m feeling especially tense, and the top is probably my best bet right now.
I grab the thick limb above me with both hands and raise my chest over it, swinging a leg up and over, and then maneuvering myself until I’m sitting. I pant, tasting the deep pine on my tongue, and take only a second of a break before I carefully come to my feet. My arms burn in a good way. I don’t think there’s a greater work out for your muscles than forcing them to keep you alive. If I fell from this height, I would surely shatter every bone in my body—soft soil or not—and that’s a fate I deserve if I can’t hold on.
There’s a gap to the next limb, probably three feet, and if I want to go any higher, I have to jump to it. It’s like the tree is only willing to let those worthy elevate any further. I give a little customary bounce, testing the bough for new damage, before I spring and lunge at the limb. For a moment, I’m weightless, untethered, and a thrill rushes through me.
Sometimes I hope I don’t make it.
Sometimes I hope I’m not worthy just so I can meet my end.
I’m not religious, but I know where I’m going if I don’t die before graduation. I know that heaven’s gates won’t open up for me if I succeed. I’ve accepted it. But sometimes, the pearly promise of an eternity of peace tempts me.
So, yes, sometimes I want to die… because that’s the only way I can be stopped.
No such luck, though. My hands catch the limb, like they always do, and the thrill vanishes. I ascend the rest of the way in a somber dissonance.
When I reach the top, the train tracks are empty in the distance, and the sun is just disappearing behind the mountains. It casts an eerie glow through the leaves beneath me, and my spirits lift a little. It seems there is some truth in misery liking company. I wrap an arm around the thinning trunk and scoot until I can have a seat. I look out over the tops of the trees that create an infinite forest, keeping my back to Hillcrest. I don’t need its steeples ruining the view. But I still feel it, looming and brimming with rabid dogs. Rabid dogs that will be released into the world if I don’t succeed.
I suddenly feel a little bad about wanting to die. I can’t do that to society. I can’t let them be poisoned the same way I’ve been—even if I am resigning my soul to hell.
I sigh and look up at the emerging stars.
This is the closest to Heaven I’ll ever get.