Lover of the Light Read online

  "Oh."

  "Yeah… the first time I felt it was on your birthday. It was just a fluttery feeling."

  I start picking grass from my shoes, breathing evenly.

  "Oh." I let the word hang there, not really sure how to respond.

  I think about the life becoming a person now. There are ears, lips, eyes, fingers, toes; a full heart in there. And Brightside can feel it.

  "It doesn't hurt. It almost feels natural."

  "Almost?"

  She gives me a small nod as the corners of her lips curve upward with an almost-smile.

  "Almost."

  Chapter 24

  July 12th, 2012

  1:12 p.m.

  "I know you can pitch, man." Chase tosses the ball my way, and I barely catch it.

  I squint against the sun's glare and find it difficult to remain out here much longer. I used to be the kind of person who played outside and loved sports. Now, I enjoy my art, my music, and an occasional book. Nature doesn't soothe me, air conditioning and instant gratification does.

  "I'm not feeling it." I shake my head, using the back of my free hand to wipe the sweat from my forehead. "Can I go back inside now?"

  I've been standing under the hot sun for the last two hours. I'm miserable. Chase said he wanted to "throw the ball around," which I assumed meant fifteen minutes of tossing a baseball back and forth. I was wrong. He dragged me out back to pitch for him, and he's pissed that I can't throw anything over sixty.

  I'm not an athlete, and I have no problem with that.

  "You pitch like a girl, Blakey," he taunts, as if I really care. "Are you even trying?"

  Not really, and I don't even feel bad about it. I just want to go back inside, take a shower, and go pick up Audrey so we can go to the movies tonight.

  "It's hot," I complain, kicking the grass with my sneaker as I toss the ball back. It hits Chase's shoe. "And I'm hungry.”

  Chase laughs without humor, removing his baseball cap to wipe his own sweaty forehead. He looks around himself, and I try to figure out an excuse he would accept for me leaving.

  "I know you're going away soon, and I'm really sad about that, but can't we just go smash mailboxes or something?" I ask. “I mean, this wasn't exactly a thing we did, Chase.”

  He stares incredulously, widening his arms at me. "When have we ever smashed mail boxes?”

  I shrug, cracking a small smile. "I guess there's a first for everything.”

  He shakes his head, palming his cheek. "Is this a mental breakdown? Are you finally cracking up on me?”

  I roll my eyes, shrug my glove off and toss it to the grass. "I'm done playing."

  "Uh…" I hear him call from behind me. "Wait! Let's talk about this, Blakey!"

  "Quit calling me that!" I shout over my shoulder, heading back toward the house. "I don't want to talk to you, I just want to chug a Gatorade and get my life together."

  "That's why I brought you out here!" he yells after me. "Blake, come on, just one more. Make it count."

  I stop in my tracks, looking over my shoulder to eye him skeptically.

  "Just one?"

  "One." He has a winning grin on his face as I walk back to my earlier position at the edge of the backyard. "But you have to make it count. Don't hit me with a sissy pitch, I want you to put everything into it. And I mean everything."

  I suppress another eye roll, nodding lazily.

  "Whatever, man, just throw the ball back already."

  "I'm serious about getting your life together. This is good therapy, trust me. Just think about something that really stresses you out, or you can picture me as someone you want to hit—like that Casper Gray fuck. There's this guy who was in Hailee's chemistry class that I pictured—"

  "Why would I picture Casper Gray? He's my friend." That's a lie and a half, but whatever. It's not like I want to hurt him. I'm pretty much over the thing with Audrey, it's not like he knew I was sort of falling in love with her. But he's been pretty much absent from my life since March, which isn't exactly a coincidence.

  Casper Gray doesn't make me angry.

  Audrey doesn't make me angry.

  But still, I'm pissed.

  I'm only seventeen, and I feel like I have a reason to be angry with somebody.

  Or something.

  Or everything.

  Life isn't fair, so maybe I'm just pissed in general. Audrey makes me happy… but I'm still a class A sulker.

  "You know how to aim." Chase nods, swinging his bat. "Let it out man, show me what you got."

  "If you hit me again I'll kill you," I tell him, adjusting my footing. "I'm serious."

  He smirks, shaking his head. "It's not my fault. Stop throwing like a girl. Dad taught you how to throw a ball when you were two."

  I roll my head on my neck.

  Dad taught me a lot of things. I don't think about most of that anymore.

  "Today, sissy," he taunts.

  I glare back at him, ready to aim the ball at his fucking face. He winks at me as I pull my arm back. Ready to hit him with another lazy swing, I feel the ball rolling up to my fingertips as I shift my weight towards my arm, and I let it all out.

  I think about everything at once. Dad before he died, Mom taking up drinking after the car accident, Brightside telling me she feels the other life, and then the thing that hurts the most—Channel Three, and I throw, giving it my all.

  Before I even realize what I've done, I hear a loud crashing sound.

  Breaking glass.

  I cringe immediately, squeezing my eyes closed as my mom starts yelling from inside the house. I hear my brother bust out laughing, and I open one eye to see him hunching over the air conditioning unit.

  Crappppppp.

  "I'm sorry, Mom!" I yell out to her, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

  Chase stops laughing and shakes his head. "Oh, dude, that was fucking awesome. You're a dumbass, but that was awesome. I bet you feel better though, right?"

  I nod, staring at the broken window.

  Crazy thing?

  "Yeah." I nod, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. "I do."

  After I've reassured my mother I will fix the window, I leave and head to Audrey's house. My brother's words are still on my mind, and the feeling of unleashing the pent-up emotions is still racing through my brain.

  When I reach Audrey's house, I make the decision to wait at the door for her instead of texting her to come out. I’ve never used a phone before to have her come outside, and I won't now.

  I knock twice and step back, waiting. A few moments later, the door opens and her father is standing there.

  Without word, he steps back, a motion which invites me into his home. “Thank you,” I say as I pass, almost a little too quiet.

  As he shuts the door I try to make myself look less nervous by peering around the house I’ve been in a dozen times. I try not to think about the fact I’m in a room alone with the father of the girl who I impregnated, whom happens to be a rightful gun owner.

  “I'll let her know you're here,” he says, heading to the stairs.

  “Thank you, sir,” I reply, my voice wavering at the last part.

  He stops at the bottom of the staircase. “You seem like a good kid, Blake. As a parent, I don't think I'm capable of understanding why you made such dumb choices.” He faces me, and I can't exactly pin his expression. “I know that you make my daughter happy. I know that she wakes up before noon on Saturday and eats breakfast with her family because she's excited to be awake and see you.”

  While his words are wholesome, his tone is not. “I'm counting on that to hold her together once that baby is gone, Blake. I’m counting on you to be here when everything isn't all sunshine for that girl, because trust me, it won't always be that way. Will you still be here, Blake?”

  His words stun me. I don’t know how to react initially, because all I can think about is the expectation that she wont be able to cope, and I won't stick around for it.


  “Oh, hey you.” Audrey appears at the top of the stair. “Dad didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

  It takes me a second to respond. “No, not at all.”

  “Ready to go?” She grabs her jacket from the coatrack by the door. “I won't be home late, Dad. And no parties.”

  “Yeah, wouldn't want a repeat of the last one,” he mutters. She heads out the door and I follow suit, stopping as she heads to the car. I turn back to him as he starts heading away from the stairs and into the kitchen.

  “I won't run,” I tell him, and I know he's listening when he stops in the doorway. “I'm not with Audrey because I have a guilty conscience, and I've cared about her from the beginning. I’ll be there as long as she wants me to be.”

  It isn't what he wants me to hear, it’s the truth.

  “Good answer,” he says.

  “It’s the only one,” I reply before I close the door, hearing him snicker just before it closes.

  Chapter 25

  July 29th, 2012

  11:25 a.m.

  I appreciated silence before I, mind you—unexpectedly, found love. I used to find it blissful. Now it haunts me.

  I am a boy, and I feel small. Sitting in a cold chair, beside a ticking clock, before a clean desk. Anxiously awaiting nothing. My fingers clutch tightly to the girl whose voice I crave, and yet I’m stunned into complete stillness. I’m trying to remain brave and strong; however, moments like these I don’t feel I’m capable to endure much.

  As Audrey takes the photo—which resembles a small, blurry gingerbread man in a fuzzy screen—I keep the tremble in my hands hidden by tucking them between my legs.

  This doesn’t feel real.

  It started with a heartbeat.

  The third life has a heartbeat. This isn’t a heartbeat like mine or hers, this heartbeat is racing. This life, this barely formed being, is living, beating, and moving. And while I adjust to seeing my son, who I know now is very much a son, I struggle to feel the reality of giving something—him—a life.

  With someone else.

  And finally, I understand what people mean when they say they feel the weight of the world on their shoulders. I feel responsible. And it feels awful.

  "You know," Melissa speaks, breaking the silence. Audrey is broken from her own trance as her mom places her hand on her shoulder. "I know that this is hard. But I want you to think about what you're doing, the life you’re going to give this boy.”

  We are, but it still hurts.

  I look to Audrey, her glossy eyes meeting mine. I send a smile, not a happy one, but just enough to give her the hope and reassurance she needs. One that tells her: I love you.

  I can't imagine how Audrey feels. She's the one who carries the life. She is one with it at the moment. Everything I feel, she feels, but this is so much more. Our life is a part of her, more than I will ever be capable of understanding, and I wish I knew how to make this better.

  I try to understand Audrey, but I cannot deny my doubts that she truly feels she wants this. This is a girl who has perfected the charade of bliss and perfection, turning every dark tunnel of a moment into a ray of light.

  "It really does kind of looks like channel three," she says without warning, case in point.

  I turn to her and watch as she cracks a smile, one that isn't without effort. Melissa furrows her brows at her daughter, and I crack a smile.

  "You know, like the fuzz on the TV when you're trying to hook up the HDMI cord." She looks to her mom, willing her to understand that chaotic mind she possesses. She laughs a little, a sound that squeezes my soul.

  "I'm glad this is funny to you." Melissa huffs, tucking a dirty blonde strand of hair behind her ear. "Here I was thinking you were sulking."

  Audrey bites onto a coral-colored bottom lip and sighs under her breath. "I'm trying not to."

  I hold her hand a little tighter, because, honestly, I know she is.

  "I thought it was funny," I interject.

  Audrey turns to me, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "Then smile."

  “I am.” I widen my smile for her.

  Because Channel Three is a boy, and I'm Mr. Brightside these days.

  I kinda wonder if he's going to look like me. If he's going to have my eyes or Audrey's… My hair or Audrey's… My smile or Audrey's.

  I hope Audrey's.

  Oh God, please let it be Audrey's.

  I stare down at my cheap shoes as I hold Audrey's hand, thinking all of this is so screwed up, but it's all right at the same time.

  I'm mad, and then I'm relieved.

  I'm happy, but then I'm sad.

  I'm a mess, and then I'm okay. For her.

  Palm-to-palm, I hold our hands up and shake them so I can get her attention. She looks to me and raises an eyebrow. "Hi."

  I look over to the rounded area where life grows, and I think I want to throw another ball out back with Chase.

  "We don't have to do this, you know." I don't know why I say it; the words leave my mouth before I even realize what I did. I see Melissa turn her head toward me out of my periphery. "We're not alone."

  Audrey stares back at me for a moment before she shakes her head, dropping her gaze back down to her stomach. "No. We do. I'm okay, I swear. It's just… real. You know? I'll be fine, don't worry."

  I shake my head, thinking that it's impossible. I can't just not worry.

  "Are you okay?" she asks, giving my hand a trying squeeze. "Are you still… okay with this?"

  I nod, swallowing back the bitter taste in my mouth. "I'm okay. It is real."

  Melissa stands up then, stepping over Audrey’s feet. My feet. "I'll be back," she whispers in a brittle voice as she passes. "I'm going to find a restroom."

  I turn back to Audrey as she leaves. "I really am okay, I swear. I'm a little emotional, but just stick with me, okay?" She doesn't look up at me as she uses her free hand to wipe at her cheek.

  "Audrey, I'm not going anywhere." I touch her cheek, cold with tears. "I won’t lie and tell you this doesn’t hurt, but you already know that. I’m here, but you have to talk to me. I know you can talk."

  She nods, turning to flash me a misty-eyed smile. "I meant to tell you that I found someone on the website last night. A couple, from Terrance... it’s not far from where we are now. They seemed like really good people in their profile, and they're not so far from home, you know?"

  My chest feels tight with anxiety. "Someone to adopt Channel Three?"

  "Yeah..." She nods. "Someone to adopt Channel Three."

  Chapter 26

  August 1st, 2012

  10:12 p.m.

  "I like your face."

  "Thanks."

  "You're very focused right now, Blake. You're very hot when you're focused."

  "I'll focus more often." I scrub a hand through my long hair and toss the paper to the ground, a page filled with information Audrey printed out about the couple in Terrance.

  "So, Nancy is a lawyer and her husband is an accountant. They've been married for fifteen years, and they've been trying to have a kid ever since. Doesn't it seem—"

  "Too good to be true?" she interrupts, shrugging. "I called the adoption connection place, and they've only been with the system for a year, which apparently isn't very long. They seem kind of cookie cutter, but we won't know that for sure until we meet them."

  I shrug. "Why not just buy a baby then? They seem to have the money for it."

  "Did you read anything about the adoption connection I sent you?" she asks. "You can't just buy a baby. It's a process. These people have been trying to conceive for a long time, and it's not happening..."

  "I believe you." Bringing my knees to my chest, I sigh aloud. "I just want to be sure that we're picking the right people."

  "We can't be sure," she whispers. “Not until we try.”

  Audrey is three shades of blue tonight. She sits on the floor by my side at the end of my bed, wearing a pair of my navy sweats, since she complained about her own clothes not fitting r
ight. The baby blue tank top she's wearing clings to her skin, revealing every curve, and I easily find myself distracted by her chest.

  I drop my eyes to her neon blue socks, the third shade of blue.

  "My dad thinks they'll check out," she says, biting down on her bottom lip as she shakes her head. "But it's scary."

  And just like that, I'm back to normal.

  I clear my throat, snapping out of my boob-induced trance. "I'm sure they will... maybe."

  She looks at me through her long, dark lashes and nods. "I'm a little worried. What if they turn out to be psychos? What if these people are total baby mongers? What if this turns out to be a scam, and they sell our baby to some—"

  "Baby mongers?” I interrupt.

  “Yeah…”

  “What exactly is a baby monger?” I question.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess someone insane. They take babies and trade them to other countries for gold.”

  I shake my head.

  I bury my head between my knees and groan aloud in frustration.

  Not helping.

  I freeze up as I feel warm, pillowlike lips press against the exposed skin at the back of my neck. Feeling my shoulders slouch, all the tension melts away as pacifying warmth settles in my chest. Twisting my head back slowly, I’m met with the slightly upturned corners of her lips.

  I don't know much about love, but I think it has a lot to do with hope, and she's filled with it.

  She pushes herself up on her knees to gives me her lips, smiling when I lean in to kiss her. "It'll be alright," she tells me, pulling back an inch. "We just have to be careful. Channel Three is our world, we won't let him go to just anybody."

  I smirk back at her, loving the fact that she's calling him “Channel Three.”

  "No, we won't."

  She sighs, curling her bottom lip over her teeth.

  "What's wrong?" I stretch my legs out and turn to face her.

  She shakes her head. "It's stupid."

  "Tell me," I push. I need to know what she's thinking. I always need to know.

  She sighs through pursed lips, tucking a wavy strand of red-brown hair behind her ear. "Lainey messaged me the other day. She said that the whole school knows I'm pregnant, and I should think about transferring because I'm going to get a lot of flak for sleeping with Blake Tucker a few hours after meeting him." She rolls her eyes and places her hand over the bump. "I asked her how they would know that, and she didn't have an answer. I unfriended her on Facebook, but it seems kind of stupid now that I think about it. I mean, we're supposed to be family, but she's apparently telling everyone my business."