See Page 14

  I walked slowly to him, sliding the strap of my guitar around myself. I then sat down at his side and gripped the neck, feeling a hum of energy soar through me. Draven reached in his pocket and pulled out a black pick, then handed it to me. I tried to hold my hand steady as I reached for it, but a tremble managed to escape. He smiled as I plugged in my guitar, then he looked down at the guitar in his hands.

  As he arched his fingers around the neck, I recognized the chord he was preparing to play.

  “C?” I said, asking if that was what I was supposed to do.

  He nodded. “C is always first – at least in my book.”

  I arched my fingers around the neck to get my fingers to line up on the strings. I saw him shake his head no. I knew what I was doing was wrong; my fingers weren’t bent the right way, and I was deadening other strings by pressing against them. I raised my fingers, only letting my fingertips touch the strings. I felt a burning sensation and the slicing pain of the chord as I tried to hold it in place. I then let the pick strum across the body.

  I released my fingers before the sound had a chance to end.

  “Listen,” Draven said, playing the chord.

  One chord; that was all he played, and it was beautiful. It sounded like a perfect beginning, the onset to a beautiful song that could go in any direction.

  All at once, memories of me playing…playing with him, started to invade my mind. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on them, but they vanished. I let out a jagged breath.

  “Are you OK?” he asked quietly.

  I shook my head no as I looked down at the guitar across my lap. “I think I’m going crazy,” I mumbled.

  “You’re not crazy…just lost,” he said tenderly.

  I slowly looked to my side at him to see anger trying to hide behind his calm expression.

  “Why do I make you so mad?” I asked timidly.

  His face flushed as he stared into my eyes. “I’m not mad at you…I promise.”

  A numbing calm came over me. It was if I’d craved to hear those words. I moved my head from side to side and said, “I don’t believe you.”

  We stared at each other for countless seconds, both trying to understand the other. “Play for me…” he finally said, letting his eyes fall to the guitar in my lap.

  I looked down, then arched my fingers again, squinting with the pain. My fingers fell, deadening the strings just as I went to play the chord. I felt an embarrassing frustration come over me. It was just one chord - how hard could it really be? I tried again, only to find one of my fingers falling again. I stretched my fingers out, ready to just stop trying - at least in front of Draven, anyway.

  At that moment, I felt a warm sensation come through my arms and into my hands, then a gentle pressure closed my hand around the neck. My fingertips lined up across the fret, and I played the chord, but I didn’t stop there; my fingertips moved on to D, and then E. My fingers flew through those three chords at least five times in random order before the sensation left my hand. I managed to play C and E before I fumbled again.

  I looked nervously up at Draven. In his eyes, I could see an immense amount of respect and sorrow, but most of all understanding.

  “How did that feel?” he asked.

  “That was a fluke - not me. I don’t – I don’t know how I did that,” I said, looking down at my guitar and hoping I hadn’t just imagined that.

  “Feel the music and let your fingers play,” he said, nodding to the guitar.

  I raised my fingertips up and stared at the strings. I fumbled through the idea of playing a chord or just playing, then I began to move my fingers at random; it was horrifying at first, but then I’d remember what sounded awful and refuse to move my fingers in that way again. After a minute or so, it started to sound like music. I could feel the sound all around me, like I was the core of its existence. I wasn’t understanding how it was made; I was the music.

  When I didn’t think I could stand the pain of arching my fingers any longer, I let go. Draven moved closer to me and stared into my eyes as he reached for my hand; it was too numb to tremble as he took it. His eyes fell from mine as he pulled my hand gently to his face so he could see the marks the strings had left on me. Slowly, he let his lips rest on my burning skin. I bit my lip, trying to hold in a gasp that was desperately trying to escape. I was screaming at myself to stop; I didn’t want this, not now.

  He let my hand fall and reached his fingertips around the strings of his guitar. “I’ll play for you now,” he said, smiling slightly. I was so paralyzed by his touch, I couldn’t even bring forth an expression of compliance.

  As he started to play, I let my eyes fall to his fingers; they just seemed to glide across the strings, and the simplest move of his hand would command a sound so powerful, you could feel it in your core. I was absolutely captivated by the raw talent I could see in him; others could only dream of playing this good. He played through at least four songs before he stopped.

  “Now, you play again,” he said, winking at me.

  I took in a deep breath and raised my eyebrows, trying to tell him that I was never going to reach his level of play. As I gripped the neck and stared down at the strings, he moved closer to me and raised my chin.

  “Close your eyes...feel the music...see it before it ever comes to life,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.

  I slowly closed my eyes, having no idea how I’d even manage to position my fingers that way. As I began to play, it almost sounded like a chord, so I decided to just stop thinking about it. I moved my fingertips in a pattern that should have reflect a solid chord, but they didn’t; the sound was harsh and unforgiving. I smiled through it with my eyes still closed, telling myself it didn’t matter if it was good or bad; it was sound, sound that wouldn’t have existed if I hadn’t played it. It was an overpowering experience. When the pain became too much, I let go and opened my eyes to find Draven smiling at me.

  “Perfect,” he said.

  I only meant to smile, but laughter escaped me. It felt so good; the music, laughing, just being Charlie.

  “That’s two laughs; make sure you tell Aden about that,” he said, grinning at me.

  I shook my head no. “What happens in this room, stays...,” I said, raising my eyebrows, trying to make it seem more dramatic than it was. His look of bewilderment just made me laugh harder.

  “I’m getting good at this,” he said, laughing as he reached for his phone.

  He read a text and shook his head no, then blushed slightly. His fingers raced across the screen to answer it. Almost instantly, a response came in, and he answered it at lightning speed, grinning at the words he read.

  “Everything OK?” I asked.

  “She’s just insane,” he said, typing another text.

  Jealousy raced through every part of me, and I couldn’t understand why. I had no claim on him, and I didn’t want one. I saw the way all of those girls looked at him last night...I’d be a fool to think I was the only girl he ever talked to.

  “Do you need to go?”

  “According to her, I do,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Well, don’t make her mad,” I said, trying to make my legs stand so I could walk away from him. When I finally did, I walked to the stand and gently set my guitar down.

  “I could kill Aden for buying her this app,” Draven said under his breath as he sent another text.

  I stood as still as possible and waited for him to leave. He put his phone in his pocket and set his guitar in the case, leaving it open. He then stood and walked slowly to me. I stared into his eyes as they searched all around me, and he stopped just a few inches in front of me.

  “Listen, Nana…my grandmother has insisted that you come for dinner tonight - and she’s also insisted that I leave now so I can take her to the store so she can get what she needs to cook dinner.”

  “That - that was your grandmother? Nana?”

  He smiled. “Yeah…Annabell – you better not call her that, though,�
�� he said, raising his eyebrows as if to warn me.

  “She was the one who you were texting?” I asked, trying to process what he was saying.

  He nodded and tilted his head, curious to why I was confused.

  “Your Nana can text at the speed of light - but your friend Wesley just figured out how to read them?”

  “She isn’t texting; it’s an app - she says want she wants to say, and it sends the text. Aden’s idea – but oddly, she never texts him,” he said, smiling slightly. “He thinks it’s hilarious.”

  I let a nervous smile come across my face. “Dinner sounds good.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Yeah, why? Was I supposed to say no?” I asked, feeling a burning sensation in my ears.

  He shook his head no as a warm smile spread across his face. “Alright,” he said, looking at his phone, “it’s four now; can I come get you around seven?”

  “I can drive; it’s just right there,” I said, nodding at the window.

  “It’s at least fifteen minutes - the road is long, and it twists and turns.”

  I nodded, knowing exactly what his road looked like. “GPS,” I said, smiling.

  He nodded. “Seven, then.”

  I looked down and stepped back, trying not to look like I was expecting anything from him. He reached for my fingertips and brought them to his lips, holding my stare. A breath I couldn’t hold in escaped as I felt his warmth. He let my hand fall and smiled shyly before walking past me to the stairs; once again, I was left paralyzed, having to call myself out of some kind of trance.

  The guitar sound that had remained in the background reached a new pitch, as if to say, “Goodbye, see you soon” to Draven. My eyes moved across the empty room, trying to see what I could feel all around me.

  “You like him, don’t you?” I whispered.

  The sound seemed to echo a “Yes” as the pitch changed again. For a second, I wondered if that was what Draven meant when he told me to listen to what I was hearing, and I would hear what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it.

  “From where you are, I’m sure you can see what I’m fighting. I can’t let anyone follow me.”

  The sound echoed the grief I felt. I looked down and sighed before I left the room.

  As l landed on the bottom step that led to my room, I heard my phone vibrating. I was sure it was just a reminder of the one that Britain had sent. I reached for the phone and read the last text: ‘Good morning can I hear your voice now’.

  I let my thumb run across the screen, trying to think of something to say. I knew he’d want to talk to me about my dad, too, and by now he would have carefully plotted how to answer my pleas for him to stay away.

  Through the echo of the house, I heard Madison laughing. I smiled, feeling grateful she was here. I texted: ‘Madison is over here – not now’.

  I’ve never asked him what he thought about her – why I felt this odd energy between them that one time they met. Sometimes I thought they hated each other; others, when he’d ask about her randomly, I thought he might like her – Madison has never said either way. She’s never really had a crush or anything – she’s always too busy with her art, and when someone did make a move for her heart, she usually called them out on their shallow intentions. I think the only thing that would bother me about Madison and Britain being together was Bianca – I didn’t trust her. It’s not that I wasn’t sure Madison could see through the endless manipulation Bianca seemed to spew at will; it was the fact that I wanted Bianca out of my life - and if Madison was in Britain’s, she’d be too close for comfort.

  ‘Tell her I said hi – text later,’ he answered.

  Madison raced up the stairs to my room and jumped across my bed and spread out. She was still wearing the clothes she had on last night and looked like she hadn’t been to sleep - at least, not for long.

  “So I just came back to get my car, and there was a Hummer blocking me in...I guess Draven Michaels isn’t a forgotten memory anymore,” she said, rolling to her side to smile at me.

  I sighed. “I don’t remember him before yesterday,” I said quietly.

  Her excited expression fell.

  “Should I?” I asked as the memories of me playing with him came to life in my mind again and my heart started to race.

  Madison sat up and pulled her knees to her. “Yeah,” she said quietly.

  “Tell me why,” I said in a shaky voice.

  She moved her head from side to side. “I shouldn’t have to – the fact that you don’t remember should prove to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bianca is dangerous.”

  “I know… but how could she make me forget one person? How could those drugs be so selective with my memory?”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with the drugs…you’ve only forgotten the things that make you strong. If I were your enemy, that would be exactly what I’d make you forget, too.”

  “You make me strong; I remember you.”

  She smiled slightly, but the concern in her eyes overshadowed any comfort I could have given her.

  “You know they’re here, right?” she asked.

  I felt sick, so sick I was dizzy. ”Who? Bianca? Britain?”

  She nodded. “I just passed his Aston Martin.”

  I rubbed my hands across my face. “Maybe she’s not here – at least, not yet.”

  “I think you had this all wrong, and it’s a big problem because they’ve been playing with your mind for a while now – I guess they just got tired of waiting on you and went to extreme measures the other night.”

  “Tell me what I had wrong – help me remember...I can’t stand feeling this way,” I said, scooting closer to her while pleading with every part of me.

  She stared at me for countless seconds. “You have to remember how to see…Draven needs to teach you that.”

  “What do you mean, ‘see’?”

  She reached her hand for mine. “You have to….you have to see what you hear.”

  I froze as I thought of every shadow that terrified me – the horrible whispers. “I don’t wanna see that...”

  She squeezed my hand. “I know how you feel right now…we all felt that way when we were just kids – and you were the one that figured it out. We’d all be mad by now if it wasn’t for you.”

  “You hear whispers?” I asked.

  She looked down. “We all see and hear differently.”

  She let go of my hand, then reached in her bag and pulled out her sketch pad and turned to the first sketch of the man with darkness all around him. “Draven can see the fear – the anger behind what you hear – if you know what someone is afraid of, you can either choose to help them overcome it or use it to defeat them.”

  My heart started to race. I knew that there was no way the darkness I heard was afraid of anything - and even if it was, it would be too horrifying for anyone to see. I felt my heart break for Draven, How could anyone live with that?

  She turned to the next sketch, the one that looked less dark. “Aden can see the lost ambitions – their dreams.” She turned the next page to the one with a girl and all the colors around them. “I see emotions…in auras of energy….I feel their agony…every emotion they ever had.”

  “Oh my God,” I said, fighting back the sick feeling that was rising in my throat.

  She turned the page to the next sketch of another girl with the dark figure before her and all the scenes around her. “You see it all….you see through their eyes.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?” I said with a trembling voice.

  “Everyone…do you remember any of this?” she asked as her eyes danced over my face.

  I shook my head no. “Nothing…I don’t wanna see what I hear.”

  She looked down. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you any of this…Draven can help you more than I can.”

  “I don’t think he can…I can’t think straight around him…you have no idea what he does to me. I can’t breathe, my heart races, my hands trem
ble….I think I’m falling for him…and that scares me because I don’t even know who I am – I’m sure he thinks I’m insane….and something is telling me that I’m leading him into danger just by being around him.”

  “You’re not. He doesn’t think you’re insane.” Her eyes moved across my face. ”I’m actually quite proud of him – I would have expected a Taurus to have lost their temper long ago.”

  As she said those words, my memory was cruel to me. I remembered seeing him furious – we were screaming at each other, and I told him to leave – that he had to. I felt sick to my stomach. If there was a memory I wanted to forget, it would be that one.

  “Charlie…stop…I can see what you’re feeling, and you’re being too hard on yourself – this is why we wanted your memory to come back on its own – this is making you weak.”

  “You can see my emotions?” I asked, doubting now that we’d been talking about the shadows that I hear.

  “Not clearly…you hide behind your shield…the fact that I can slightly see how you feel tells me that it has to be powerful.”

  “I don’t understand anything you’re saying,” I said as I got up and started to pace the floor.

  “I’ve already said too much…for all I know, I could have made this worse.”

  I stopped my pacing and crawled on the bed next to her. “No – no – it’s not worse, I promise – tell me what I wanted to talk to Britain about – is Bianca dangerous? Could she hurt me – him – anyone? You have to tell me – don’t let me sit here blindly.”

  “Baby steps…you’re safe…the war we fight is with our minds – not our physical strength.”

  “Tell me about Britain – he’s here – should I be running away from him, or to him?”

  Her eyes widened as if that were the most absurd question I’d ever asked. “I’m gonna tell you to stay away…but the Charlie you were a few days ago was convinced that he was a victim of Bianca – that if you could wake him up, you’d be able to protect yourself from her.”

  “Wake him?”

  “You said you felt blind a second ago – most people are – blind to the energy and what’s really happening around them, but I’m almost positive you were wrong – he’s not only wide awake – he’s the devil’s advocate.”