Blood of the Pure (Gaea) (3 page)

They talked about our impending afternoon all throughout lunch, but my mind had been wandering ever since I’d sat down with my tray. I focused on eating everything I’d bought as fast as I could and it only took me the whole of ten minutes to be done with it, soup and desert included.

I stood up, hoping no one would notice my absence, but Steph didn’t allow me to leave that easily.

“Going already?” she asked, knowing full well where I was headed. I blushed, nodding. “Good luck then!” she added, winking, and I walked away with my empty tray before any of the others could ask me anything else.

After placing the tray on its rightful place, I ran from the cafeteria towards the north building and out into the cold, pale day. The wind that cut through my clothes made me shiver and hold my breath for an instant, but a second later none of it mattered anymore. Because there he was — Michael Heaton.

His smile froze me instantly and all I could do was watch him from where I stood. As always, Michael was surrounded by his usual group. At the time, they seemed to be talking about something amusing and, even though I was too far away to hear, I noticed his sandwich had been forgotten, his attention completely focused on what one of the other boys was saying.

Forcing myself to take a few steps as the glass door to the cafeteria building closed on its own, I sat down in the middle of the small stairway just to look at him.

Michael was simply ... perfect.

His blond hair was soft and shiny. His green eyes seemed to glow. And his warm and purely wonderful smile made my heart beat like crazy, so much so that I wondered if those who walked by me were able to listen to it. At about six-feet tall, he had long, well-built legs and his movements were incredibly smooth. Just watching him, even from a distance, brought a new light into my day making me positively certain that, after all, it was really good to be alive.

Michael was only one grade above mine, even though he was two years older. He’d also enrolled in Christ the King at the beginning of the year and it had been during the opening ceremony that I’d seen him for the first time. He’d become one of the most popular guys in school even before the first week was up, but he still didn’t seem to take any pride in that.

From what I’d heard, Michael had been in some kind of accident and hospitalized for almost a year. And, even though he seemed completely recovered, he’d apparently lost his memory. For a long time the police had looked for someone who could recognize him, someone from his family, a home to where he could return. No one had come forth. Around that time Father Jorge, who was visiting a family member in the same hospital, learned about his case and decided to become Michael’s guardian, enrolling him in Christ the King.

Despite his unfortunate situation, Michael maintained a smile for everyone, always cheery and friendly. Besides attending classes, he assisted Father Jorge at Friday mass, which led me to visit the school’s chapel quite regularly.

It would be impossible to deny I was completely in love with him. I knew his routines by heart, the courses he was taking, his schedule and customs. He usually brought lunch from home trying to save up some money, probably not wanting to weigh too heavily on Father Jorge, who now looked after him. He always had lunch outside under the trees. And although bringing your own lunch from home could definitely been seen as uncool for anyone else, no one seemed to think that of Michael. Everyone had naturally accepted it.

Luckily, most of my classes took place in the same building as his, although his classrooms were on another floor. Even so, lunch period was the only time I dared take a few moments to simply stare at him, hoping my freaky behavior might go unnoticed.

As to be expected from someone shy and introverted as me, my low self-esteem would never allow me to even speak to someone as popular as him, much less confess my feelings, no matter how much Steph insisted on it.

As I sat on a step, time went by without me even noticing it while I watched dazed at his every move, even the smallest and most insignificant.

The school bell startled me, forcing me out of my waking dream and I jumped to my feet. Usually I’d be gone before the bell rang so that no one would notice my unwanted presence. This time, however, when I looked up Michael and his friends were walking towards me and I panicked. I had to get out of there!

I spun around before he could take a real look at me and ran up the stairs. But in my clumsiness, my foot slipped on the last step. The only thing I recall is the feeling of time being stopped, and of me falling slowly on my back. A shout rang in my ears and something cushioned my fall. At first I was too dizzy and confused to know what had happened, but the sound of voices soon became clear and started making sense again.

“Michael! You’re all right?”

Panicking once again I noticed the arms around me, that I was sitting on the ground, and that I wasn’t alone!

“I’m OK. Don’t worry.” A soft warm voice answered so close to my ear that my heart skipped a beat, leaving me petrified. “Hi! Are you all right?” His arms released me and when I turned towards his voice, I saw him kneeling right beside me, his perfect face painfully close to mine. Michael was worried about me. “Did you get hurt?” he asked once again and I shook my head, mesmerized by his gaze. I watched him stand up and the hand he stretched towards me.

Still shaky, I tried hard to accept his help since I thought I’d never be able to move again. His big, warm hand surrounded mine and pulled me to my feet with ease.

“You sure you’re all right? Maybe I should take you to the infirmary just in case,” he suggested and I wished I could lower my gaze and hide my blushed cheeks, but I simply couldn’t turn away from his green eyes.

“No ... I’m fine, thank you,” I answered in a low voice, wondering how I’d been able to speak without stammering, and he smiled, breaking my heart into several pieces.

“Good. That could’ve been a serious fall,” he noted, measuring the stairs with a critical look. “Hmm, were you lost? Looking for someone?” he asked me again in a helpful tone. I shook my head, commanding my voice to be heard.

“Was going to class... History.”

As expected he didn’t even know I existed. By his question, he’d probably thought I belonged to some other school and had gone there looking for my older brother or a friend. And to think I’d been so worried about him noticing me, sitting daily on those stairs.

To confirm my suspicions his expression was one of surprise, but a friendly smile immediately took over his face.

“Which grade?”

“Twelfth.”

“Ah, a year below ours. My name is Michael.” He introduced himself as if I already didn’t know it.

“Mariane,” I replied in kind and the second bell rang, dragging us both back to reality.

“Damn! We’re late!” one of the other boys said rushing inside as the rest followed him, leaving me still dazed.

“Come!” His voice rang in my ears as if it were a dream and the hand that still held mine pulled me with him, making me run as well. When I realized we were already on the first floor, and his hand released mine leaving me temporarily lost and cold. “Your class is here, right?” he asked and all I could do was nod. “Mine is upstairs. See you around,” he added, blinding me once more with his smile, and then he turned around and disappeared up the stairs.

I hardly listened to anything said in History class. There was the slight remembrance of Steph’s inquisitive look due to my tardiness. I know she asked me about it, but I don’t recall my answer. My head was somewhere else. And, by the time class was over, I could still feel the heat of his hand on mine and the scent of his skin where he’d touched me, the same scent that had surrounded me when he’d put his arms around me to break my fall. The sound of his voice rang in my ears and I prayed that those memories would remain engraved in my mind for all eternity.

It was in that near-sleepwalking state that I said goodbye to my friends and returned home. From our group, I was the only one who lived at a walking distance from school, which thankfully allowed me to enjoy a few moments of peace and quiet.

As expected, no one was home to greet me, but for the first time since we’d moved, I didn’t miss the sound of operas that my father often played in the house.

I went up to my room and dropped my bag on the desk, lying on the bed with a sigh. I could hardly believe the day I’d had.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just like the night before, the same dream tortured me that night. Those hands touching me, robbing me of strength and sense alike, leaving me in complete surrender before his touch. My body burnt and melted at his every move. His skin was smooth and cool, his daring mouth ripping shameful moans from my forcibly sealed lips.

Like the day before, the sound of the alarm clock dragged me once more from his caressing arms, and I buried my face on the pillow trying to regain my breath. It had been the tenth consecutive night and I couldn’t help asking myself how many more nights I’d be tortured by those indecent scenes.

The last time I’d had recurring dreams, my parents had announced their divorce a few days later. In that dream I was always on the run, always alone, running through London’s cold and deserted streets. I was desperately looking for something that I couldn’t find. And the loneliness made my chest hurt. There was no one else ... just me.

The dreams only stopped when my mom decided to tell me what was going on. And I understood then that I’d been reacting like a child, filled with fears of abandonment. The difference was I’d reacted a bit too soon. And now this.

To make things even worse, my meeting with Michael floated back into my mind. And I couldn’t help wondering if that dream wasn’t a mirror of my desire and, like the ones before, a sign that my wish would eventually come true. Michael and I ... in a scene like that! Pulling my own hair I forced myself to come back to reality and turned around to take a deep breath.

“I’m such an idiot!”

As if something like that would ever happen. It was only a dream, probably brought upon by the complete lack of the slightest contact with the opposite sex, beyond some brief ‘Good mornings’ and ‘See you tomorrows.’

Rachel’s voice warned me about the time and I got dressed as fast as I could, unwilling to be late again.

“Mari, I have another meeting today. But I’ll probably be home earlier,” she explained while checking the documents she’d placed inside her briefcase. Her perfume overlapped the smell of fresh coffee. Like always, that morning my mother was the perfect image of a modern woman. “If you get hungry there are some steaks in the fridge ready to grill. Or make some eggs if you prefer,” she instructed. She drank the rest of her coffee as I munched on the yogurt with cereal that filled my mouth.

“It’s OK. Today I’m going out with the guys. Steph invited me to go shopping with them,” I told her, knowing she’d be excited about my plans and, as if not to disappoint me, a smile stretched her carefully painted lips.

“Oh! That’s wonderful. I always tell you, you should go out more! But please be careful, OK? And don’t come back too late.”

“Don’t worry. I still have my homework to do and tomorrow is a school day again,” I answered, trying to reassure her. She kissed me on the cheek.

“Have fun then. And try to buy something new to wear. I swear, you’ve been wearing the same clothes for the last ten years!” she teased. I stuck my tongue out, aware that she’d been referring to my small-sized clothes. Anyway, I was rather confident about looking at least older than a seven-year-old. “If you need something, call me. I’ll have the cell on at all times.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go already and have a nice day!” I responded, knowing she’d end up being late. Rachel left the kitchen, taking her briefcase with her.

The first class in the morning was English, which Steph and Joanne also attended. However, unlike Mr. Frederich, Mrs. Turner seemed to be rather deaf, or simply couldn’t care less if we were paying attention in class. After all, we were all big boys and girls, old enough to know what was really important in life. And so the most pressing thing at the moment was our plan for the afternoon, at least until the subject changed.

“But tell me! Yesterday you went to see him again, right? You didn’t tell me anything after that. Did you finally talk to him?” Steph asked, lowering her voice. I nodded, blushing noticeably. “You did!” she contested in a louder tone, her eyes wide open in disbelief as if she’d never expected it to be even possible. “Oh my God!”

“Sh!” I hushed her, looking around, making sure no one was listening. “Not so loud!”

“Just spit it! Tell me everything!” she demanded, ignoring me completely and I shrugged.

“There’s nothing to tell, really.” Which was far from the truth. Those fleeting minutes had been engraved in my mind in all detail since yesterday. But how could I ever tell her that? That I could still feel the warmth from his hand on mine? It was just too embarrassing. “I told him my name,” I added to satisfy her curiosity. Steph’s smile was warm and honest.

“That’s great, Mari! Finally! And what about today? Have you spoken with him yet?” she asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and I flinched reflexively as if she’d just threatened me with some sharp object.

“Of course not! Why, do I have to?”