On the way to the restaurant , I keep thinking about Riley, her sarcasm and her incredible meanness when she said that to me.
last arrow, before evaporating. For months I have been begging her to tell me about our parents, begging for the slightest
crumb of information. But instead of telling me what I want to know, she gets agitated, plays smart and persists in not explaining to me why I haven’t seen them yet.
One could imagine that death softens morals, makes
nicer people. Not Riley. She’s still the same spoiled, horrible brat. She hasn’t changed.
Sabine hands her keys to the valet, and we enter. The huge marble hall, the crazy bouquets and the splendid view of
the ocean makes me change my mind. Riley was right. It’s really classy. The great, very great class. The kind of place where you come for a romantic dinner, not with a grumpy niece.
A hostess accompanies us to a table covered with
tablecloth with candles, and small silver pebbles as salt and pepper shakers. I sit down and look around me dazzled. It’s so beautiful and luxurious, compared to
restaurants that I usually frequent!
But I quickly banish these thoughts. There is no point in dwelling on the past forever or rewatching the film of my previous life. Even
if I live with Sabine, and it’s hard not to compare. She’s my father’s twin sister: a living memory, in a way.
She orders red wine for herself, a soda for me,
before viewing the menu. Once the waitress left, Sabine
tucks a lock of her bobbed blonde hair behind her ear.
So, high school, your friends, how are you? she asks with a polite smile.
I adore my aunt, I assure you, and I am deeply in love with her.
grateful for everything she does for me. But it’s not because she can put twelve jurors in her pocket that she has conversation.
I’m fine, thank you.
Okay, I admit that I’m terrible at conversation too.
She places her hand on mine and is about to say something more, but before she can say a word, I jump to my feet.
I’ll be right back, I said in a whisper, before
rush towards the exit, almost knocking over my chair in the process.
I don’t need to question the waitress, whom I almost bump into in my haste, to find out where the toilets are, because she
spontaneously shows me the corridor after the door, wondering if I’ll get there in time.
I walk through a hall decorated with gigantic mirrors in gilded frames, lined up next to each other. Like us
It’s a Friday, and the hotel is packed with guests from a wedding that, from what I can see, should never take place.
I come across a small group whose auras swirl with an ethyl energy so disheveled that it also affects me and
leaves me dizzy, nauseous, to the point that I think I see the multiplied image of Damen in all the mirrors.
I stagger to the bathroom, where I grip the marble sink, struggling to catch my breath. I focus on the
potted orchids, scented lotions, stack of towels
immaculate on a porcelain tray, and little by little I manage to calm my agitation, to refocus it and to dominate it.
Guess I’ve gotten so used to the wild energy flows that I’ve forgotten how much it can bother me when I’m helpless, without my iPod. But the shock I felt when Sabine put her hand on the
Mine betrayed so much solitude, such resigned sadness that I thought I was being punched in the stomach.
Especially when I realized I was responsible.
Sabine feels alone, but I pretend to ignore her. We live under the
same roof, but we hardly see each other. During the day, she is at work, I am at school, and in the evenings and weekends I hole up in my room or go out with my friends. I sometimes forget that it’s not just me who lost my family, and that even though Sabine
welcomed and tries to help me, she still feels as lonely and empty as the day the tragedy happened.
I would really like to reach out to him, help him soften his
It’s hard, but I can’t. I’m too damaged, too weird. I am a poor girl who hears other people’s thoughts and talks to the dead. Especially since I have to hide it.
I can’t risk letting anyone get too close to me. Not even her. The best I can do is to
succeed in class to go study far from here, and allow him to return to a normal existence. A life where she might be able to date the man who works in the same building as her.
She doesn’t know him yet, but I caught a glimpse of his face when his hand brushed mine.
I quickly fix my hair, put on a coat of gloss and
returns to our table, determined to make efforts to help him get better, without revealing my secrets. I sit back in my place, drink a
sip of soda and smile at him.
I’m doing well. Really. So, are you working on any interesting cases at the moment? And by the way, are there nice guys where you work?
After dinner, I wait in front of the restaurant, while Sabine
pay the valet. The melodrama unfolding before me, between the future bride of tomorrow and her so-called maid of honor, absorbs me so much that I jump when I feel a hand placed on my arm. A wave of heat passes through me entirely the moment our eyes meet.
Oh, hello !
Damen looks at my dress and shoes, before looking into mine with his eyes, smiling.
You are beautiful. I almost didn’t recognize you without your hood. Was the evening pleasant?
I’m so tense that it’s a small miracle that I can nod.
I saw you passing in the hall earlier, he continues. I wanted to say hello, but you seemed in a big hurry.
What is he doing in a luxury hotel on a Friday night? He
wears a dark wool blazer, a black open-collar shirt, designer jeans and his eternal boots. He’s far too elegant for someone his age, but his outfit fits him like a glove.
I have visitors, he said in response to my silent question.
Sabine comes at just the right time, while I’m racking my brains
to know what to add. They shake hands while I make introductions.
Damen makes my palms sweaty, my stomach churns, and I think about him almost constantly!
Um… Damen and I are in the same class. He’s coming from New Mexico.
I hope this will be enough by the time the car arrives. My
aunt smiles at her, and I wonder if she too feels this wonderful well-being that invades me.
Where in New Mexico? she asks.
Santa Fe.
Oh ! It seems to be superb. I dream of going there.
Sabine is a lawyer, she works a lot, I said stammering, my eyes fixed in the direction from which the car should arrive in ten, nine, eight, seven…
We were going to go home, but if you want to join us, it’s with pleasure, my aunt suggested.
I stare at her, speechless, panicked. I can’t believe it: I didn’t even see it coming! I glance at Damen, praying he refuses.
Thanks, but I have to go back, he apologizes, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
My eyes follow the movement and stop on an incredibly beautiful redhead, dressed in a super sexy black dress and perched on thin heeled sandals.
She gives a cold smile. Barely a slight movement of
her lips pink and shiny. She’s too far away for me to read her eyes. However, I guess in his expression, his bearing
in his head, something mocking, as if it were deliciously funny to see us together.
Turning around, I am surprised to discover Damen nearby
from me, his lips parted a few centimeters from mine. He brushes my cheek with a light finger and picks a red tulip behind my ear.
And before I have time to react, I find myself alone in front of the restaurant, where he has returned with his guest.
I contemplate the tulip, and caress the ruddy petals and
fleshy and wondering where it could come from – especially several months after spring.
Much later that evening, in the solitude of my room, I realized that the red-haired girl didn’t have an aura either.
I must have slept soundly, because when I heard a noise in my room, my head felt so heavy and foggy that I didn’t even open my eyes.
Riley, is that you?
Not getting a response, I tell myself that this is another one of his stupid tricks. I’m not really in the mood to play,
I grab my second pillow and stick it on my head. But the commotion continues.
Listen, Riley, I’m exhausted, okay? I apologize for speaking to you like that and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I really don’t want to talk about this again right now, at…
I lift the pillow and glance at my alarm clock.
At almost 4 a.m. You don’t want to leave from where
you come and come back at a normal time? If you want, I’ll lend you the dress I wore for the end of year ball, scout word.
Except now, of course, I’m well and truly awake.
I toss the pillow aside and stare at the figure sitting in the chair next to my desk. What’s so important that can’t wait?
tomorrow morning ?
I apologized, okay? What more do you need?
You see me ? the figure questions as he approaches.
Of course I…
But words fail me when I realize it’s not Riley.
