Wake

Chapter 18

Vinny

When I opened my eyes, I was still exhausted.

I hadn't gotten a lick of sleep, as if I'd expected to. Whatever shut-eye I did get was plagued by vivid memories of the crash, of the screeching metal as it split and bent, my back thrown against shattered glass, the crack of my arm against the ground. And of course, there was Cian--the crazed way he'd looked at me, his lips mouthing at me, I'm sorry.

It didn't matter. I was going to get him back. He was my brother, and besides my rather absent mother, he was all the family I had left. If not sheer will, it was the blood that ran in my veins--the same that ran in his--that convinced me I'd do anything to get him back.

With a sigh, I sat up, blinking around my bedroom, immediately jolting. "What--Lucie?"

She was sitting atop my dresser, having neatly set some of my soccer trophies aside. Her legs thudded against the wood as she kicked it, a childish smile on her face. "Aw," she said, "you're cute with bedhead."

I stared at her, then scrubbed my hands through my hair, giving whatever attempt I could at straightening it. Lucie watched me, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm not cute," I argued. "I am technically the undead. You should fear me."

"Oh, hush. You have a heartbeat, don't you?" Lucie replied, and the smile on her face turned rueful. She slid off the dresser with enough force that I expected a thunk, but her landing was noiseless. I wondered suddenly if this was what it had been like to watch me when I'd been a ghost: a silent image that was both live and dead at once, interacting with a world that wanted no part of me.

I asked her, "Have you been sitting there the whole time? Watching me sleep?"

Her face twisted into a subtle scowl. "Not the whole night; that would be plain creepy. I've only been sitting here for around ten minutes."

"Oh."

My eyes traced her as she moved forward, hugging her flannel tighter around herself as she came to a seat on the bed across from me. Part of me wanted some semblance of privacy, as I was sure I looked like crap. My hair was sticking up in places, and I was still clothed in an old San Francisco Zoo shirt, stained with a number of substances I could no longer identify. But here, with her--even if I couldn't touch her, even if her body was still locked away in slumber--I was the happiest I'd been in weeks.

Lucie folded her legs, leaning her chin into her palm. "I just don't get it. How did you stand it--this restless energy in you all the time? How did you...how did you sleep like this?"

"Most ghosts don't sleep; Cian must have told you that. So I guess I'm just persistent," I said, a slight smirk at my lips. I let out an exhale, flopping back down upon the pillows. "It's better than nothing, though. Like the exorcism that time...I just felt so bare and cold, like someone had torn everything from me..."

I trailed off. It wasn't something I liked to talk about, and I was sure Lucie didn't want to hear it, either.

I didn't know where ghosts went after exorcisms, but I knew it certainly wasn't to heaven.

I could feel Lucie's eyes on me, but she just let out a hefty sigh, laying down beside me. I glanced sideways at her, but her dark eyes were trained on the ceiling, black eyelashes like tendrils of storm clouds extended towards the sky. "I know Cian's...gone, but I want you to know I'm really happy right now, Vince."

Though I didn't feel it, her arm was brushing mine. No matter how hard I fought it, I was reminded of that night on the roof, of my hands in her hair and her lips on mine, how it had felt so wrong and so right at the same time. I didn't think I'd ever been confused as I had been then. "You are?"