Night World - Dark Angel Part 6

Amy and her mother were staring.

Gillian stood defiantly.

"But you never wear black," her mother said weakly.

Gillian knew. It had taken a long time to cull these things from the forgott en hinterlands of her closet. The camisole was from Great-grandma Elspeth, t wo Christmases ago, and had still had the price tag attached.

"Didn't you sort of forget to put on a sweater on top?" Amy suggested.

(Stand your ground, kid. You look terrific.) "No, I didn't forget. I'm going to wear a coat outside, of course. How do I lo ok?"Amy swallowed. "Well-great. Extremely hot. But kind of scary."

Gillian's mother lifted her hands and dropped them. "I don't really know yo u anymore."

(Hooray!) (Yup, kid. Perfect.) Gillian was happy enough to give her mother a flying kiss. "Come on, Amy! W e'd better get moving if we're going to pick up Eugene." She dragged the ot her girl behind her like the tail of a comet. Her mother followed, calling worriedly about breakfast.

"Give us something to take with us. Where's that old black coat I never wor e? The fancy one you got me for church. Never mind, I found it."

In three minutes she and Amy were on the porch.

"Wait," Gillian said. She fished through the black canvas bag she was carry ing in place of a backpack and came up with a small compact and a tube of l ipstick. "I almost forgot."

She put on the lipstick. It was red, not orange-red or blue-red, but red red, the color of holly berries or Christmas ribbon. That s.h.i.+ny, too. It made her lips look fuller, somehow, almost pouty. Gillian pursed her lips, considered her image, then kissed the compact mirror lightly and snapped it shut.

Amy was staring again. "Gillian . . . what is going on? What's happened to you?"

"Come on, we're going to be late."

'The outfit just makes you look like you're going out to burgle something, but that lipstick makes you look . . . bad. Like a girl with a reputation."

"Good."

"Gillian! You're scaring me. There's something-" She caught Gillian's arm an d peered into her eyes. "Something about you-around you- oh, I don't know wh at I'm talking about! But it's different and it's dark and it's not good."

She was so genuinely shaken that for a moment Gillian was frightened herself . A quick stab of fear like the flick of a knife in her stomach. Amy was neu rotic, sure, but she wasn't the type to hallucinate. What if- (Angel-) A horn honked.

Startled, Gillian turned. Right at the edge of the driveway, behind Amy's Geo, was a somewhat battered but still proud tan Mustang. A dark head was sticking out the window.

"Standing me up?" David Blackburn called.

"What-is-that?" Amy breathed.

Gillian waved to David-after a sharp nudge from Angel. "I think it's called a car," she said to Amy. "I forgot. He said he'd drive me to school. So-I gu ess I should go with him. See you!"

It only made sense to go with David; after all, he had asked first. Besides, Amy's driving was life threatening; she sped like a maniac and wove all over the road because she couldn't see without her gla.s.ses.

It should have been satisfying. After all, yesterday Amy had stood her up f or a guy-and a guy like Eugene Elfred. But right this moment Gillian was to o scared to be smug.

This was it. David was going to see her new self. And it was all happening to o fast.

(Angel, what if I faint? What if I throw up? That's going to make a great first impression, isn't it?) (Keep breathing, kid. Breathe. Breathe. Not that fast. Now smile.) Gillian couldn't quite manage a smile as she opened the car door. Suddenly she felt exposed. What if David thought she was cheap or even freakish? Lik e a little girl dressed up in her mom's clothes?

And her hair-all at once she remembered how David had touched it yesterday . What if he hated it?

Trying to breathe, she slipped into the car. Her coat came open as she sat d own. She could hardly make herself look toward the driver's seat.

But when she did, her breath stopped completely. David was wearing a look th at she'd never seen on any guy's face before, at least not directed toward h er. She'd seen it, occasionally, when guys were looking at other girls, girl s at school like Steffi Lockhart or J.Z. Oberlin. A stricken gaze, a compulsive movement of the throat, an expression that almost made you sorry for them. An "I'm lyin g down and I don't care if you walk on me, babe," expression.

David was looking at her that way.

Immediately all her fear, including the little stab induced by Amy, was swept away. Her heart was still pounding and little waves of adrenaline were still going through her, but now what it felt like was excitement. Heady, buoyant antic.i.p.ation. As if she had started on the roller coaster ride of her life.

David actually had to shake himself before he remembered to put the car in g ear. And then he kept sneaking glances at her out of the side of his eye.

"You did something to your . . . and your . . ." He made a vague motion ne ar his own head. Gillian's gaze was caught by his hand, which was strong, brown, long-fingered, and handsome.

"Yeah, I cut my hair," she said. She meant to sound careless and sophisticated , but it came out shaky, with a little laugh at the end. She tried again. "I f igured I didn't want to look too young."

"Ouch." He made a face. "That's my fault, isn't it? You overheard that stuff yesterday. What Tanya and I said."

(Tell him you've been thinking of doing it for a while.) "Yeah, but I've been thinking of doing it for a while now," Gillian said. "It's no big deal."

David glanced at her as if to say he disagreed with that. But it wasn't a disa pproving glance. It was more like electrified awe . . . and a sort of discover y that seemed to grow every time he looked at her.

"And I never saw you at school?" he muttered. "I must've been blind."

"Sorry?"

"No, nothing. I'm sorry." He drove in silence for a while. Gillian forced h erself to stare out the window and realized they were on Hillcrest Road. St range how different the landscape looked today. Yesterday it had been lonel y and desolate; this morning it seemed harmless, and the snow looked soft a nd comfortable, like old cus.h.i.+ons.

"Listen," David said abruptly. He broke off and shook his head. And then he di d something that absolutely amazed Gillian. He pulled the car to the side of t he road-or at least as far to the side as he could get it-they were still in t he flow of traffic-and parked it.

"There's something I have to say."

Gillian's heart now seemed to be beating everywhere, in her throat and her f ingertips and her ears. She had a dreamlike sensation that her body wasn't s olid anymore, that she was just a floating ma.s.s of heartbeat. Her vision s.h.i.+ mmered. She was . . . waiting.

But what David said was unexpected. "Do you remember the first time we m et?"

"I-yes." Of course she did. Four years ago; she'd been twelve and tiny for her age. She'd been lying on the ground beside her house, making snow angel s. Kind of childish, sure, but in those days a stretch of new snow had affe cted her that way. And while she was lying on her back, arms out, making th e imprint of the angel's wings, a tree branch above her decided to shrug of f its load of snow. Suddenly her face was covered in damp, closely packed c oldness and she couldn't breathe. She came up spluttering and gasping.

And found herself steadied. Something was holding her, wiping her face gen tly. The first thing she saw when she got her vision back was a brown hand and a lean brown wrist. Then a face came into focus: high strong bones an d dark, mischievous eyes.

"I'm David Blackburn. I just moved in over there," the boy said. He was wipi ng her face with his fingers. "You'd better be careful, snow princess. Next time I might not be around."

Looking up at him, Gillian had felt her heart explode and leak out of her che st.

And she'd walked away on air, even though he'd patted her head after releasi ng her. She was in love.

"Well, back then, I sort of got the wrong impression," David was saying. "I thought you were a lot younger and more-well, more fragile than youare." There was a pause, and then he said wonder-ingly, not quite looking at h er, "But, it's like, there's so much more to you. I started realizing that yes terday."

Gillian understood. David didn't have a reputation for being wild for nothin g. He liked girls who were bold, das.h.i.+ng, out there. If he were a knight, he wouldn't fall in love with the pampered princess back at the castle. He'd f all in love with a female knight, or maybe a robber, somebody who could shar e the Adventure with him, who'd be just as tough as he-was.

Of course he had a strong protective streak. That was why he rescued maiden s in distress. But he didn't go for the maidens who needed rescuing.

"And now," David was saying, "Now, I mean, you're ..." He held his hands up in a whoa motion. He wasn't looking at her at all.

In a moment of perfect bliss, Gillian thought, I'm cool.

"You're kind of incredible," David said. "And I feel really stupid for not noti cing that before."

Gillian couldn't breathe. There was something between her and David-a kind o f quivering electricity. The air was so thick with it that she felt pressure all over her. She had never been so awake before, but at the same time she felt as if most of the world was insubstantial. Only she and David were real.

And the voice in her head seemed very far away. (Uh, dragonfly, we've got company. Incoming.) Gillian couldn't move. A car drove by, swerving to avoid the Mustang. Gill ian couldn't see well through the Mustang's steamed-up windows, but she th ought faces were looking at her.

David didn't seem to notice the car at all. He was still staring at the gearsh ift, and when he spoke his voice was very quiet. "So I guess what I'm saying i s, I'm sorry if anything I said hurt your feelings. And-I see you now."

He raised his head. And Gillian suddenly realized he was going to kiss her.

CHAPTER 7.

Gillian felt triumph, wild excitement-and something deeper. An emotion she c ouldn't describe because there weren't any ordinary words for it. David was looking at her, and it was almost as if she could see through his dark eyes.

As if she could see inside him . . . see the way things looked to him . . .

What she felt was a little like discovery and a little like deja vu and a litt le like waking up and suddenly realizing it's Christmas. Or like being a kid l ost in a strange place, cold and bewildered, and then suddenly hearing your mo ther's voice. But it really wasn't like any of those things; it was more. Unex pected welcome . . . strange recognition . . . the shock of belonging . . .

She couldn't quite put it all together, because there was nothing like it in her experience. She'd never heard of anything like this. But she had the feeling that when David kissed her, she'd figure it all out and it would be the revelation of her life.

It was going to happen-now. He was moving clser to her, not fast, but as if slowly compelled by something he couldn't control. Gillian had to look dow n, but she didn't move back or turn her face away. He was close enough now that she could hear his breath and feel him. Her eyes shut of their own acc ord.

She waited to feel the touch of warmth on her lips. . . .

And then something in her mind stirred. A tiny whisper, so far back that she could barely hear it, and she couldn't tell where it came from.

Tanya.

The shock went through Gillian like ice on bare skin. Part of her tried to ig nore it, but she was already pulling away, putting a hand up, turning to star e at the window.

Not out the window. It was too steamed up now to see anything outside. Th ey were in their own coc.o.o.n of whiteness.

Gillian said, "I can't. I mean, not like this. I mean-it isn't fair, because you already-and you haven't ... I mean . . . Tanya."

"I know." David sounded as if he'd been hit with ice on bare skin, or as if he'd come up from deep water and was looking around dazedly. "I mean, you're right. I don't know what I was . . .

It just-it was like I forgot. . . Look, I'm sure that sounds stupid. You don't b elieve me."

"I do believe you." At least he sounded as incoherent as she did. He wouldn't think she was a total fool; her facade wasn't broken.

"I'm not that kind of guy. I mean, it looks like I am, right here, it looks exa ctly like I am. But I'm not. I mean I never-I'm not like Bruce Faber. I don't d o that. I made a promise to Tanya and ..."

Oh, G.o.d, Gillian thought. And then a sort of inward scream: (Help!) (I was wondering when you'd remember me.) (He made her a promise!) (I'm sure he did. They've been going together a while.) (But that's terrible!) (No, it's admirable. What a guy. Now say you've got to get to school.) (I can't. I can't think. How are we going to-) (School first.) Dully, Gillian said, "I guess we'd better get moving."

"Yeah." There was a pause, and then David put the car in gear.

They drove in silence, and Gillian sank deeper and deeper into depression. S he'd thought it would be so easy-just show David her new self and everything would fall into place. But it wasn't like that. He couldn't just dump Tanya .(Don't worry about it, kid. I have a cunning plan.) (But what?) (I'll tell you when it's time.) (Angel-are you mad at me? Because I forgot about you?) (Of course not. I'm here to arrange things so you can forget me.) (Then-because I forgot about Tanya for a while? I don't want to do anything t hat's wrong. . . .) (I'm not mad! Heads up. You're there.) Gillian couldn't push away the feeling that he was mad, though. Or at least surprised. As if something unexpected had happened.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had to get out of David's car and gather herself and face the high school.

"I guess-I'll see you later," David said as she reached for the door handle. H is voice made it a question.

"Yeah. Later," Gillian said. She didn't have the energy for anything more. S he glanced back- once-to see him staring at the steering wheel.

She could see people staring at her as she walked to the school building. It was a new sensation and it gave her a spasm of anxiety.

Were they laughing at her? Did she look silly, was she walking wrong som ehow?

(Just breathe and walk.) Angel's voice sounded amused. (Breathe-walk-head up-breathe. . . .) Gillian somehow got through halls and up stairs to her U.S. history cla.s.s wi thout meeting another student's eyes once.

There, arriving just as the bell rang, she realized she had a problem. Her history textbook, along with all her notes, was floating somewhere down tow ard West Virginia.

With relief, she caught Amy's eye and headed toward the back of the cla.s.sr oom.

"Can I share your book? My whole backpack went in the creek." She was a li ttle afraid Amy might be miffed or jealous at the way she'd run off with D avid, but Amy didn't seem to be either. She seemed more-awed-as if Gillian were some force like a tornado that you might fear, but that you couldn't get mad at.

"Sure." Amy waited until Gillian had scooted her desk closer, then whispe red, "How come it took you so long to get to school? What were you and Da vid doing?"

Gillian rummaged for a pen. "How do you know we weren't picking up Tan ya?"

"Because Tanya was here at school looking for David."

Gillian's heart flip-flopped. She pretended to be very interested in history.

But she gradually noticed that some of the other students were looking at her. Especially the boys. It was the sort of look she'd never imagined getting from a boy.

But these were all juniors, and none of them was in the really popular cliqu e. All that would change in Gillian's next cla.s.s, biology. Half a dozen of t he most popular kids would be there. David would be there-and Tanya.

Gillian felt, with a sudden chill, that she might not really care anymore. W hat did it matter what other people thought of her if she couldn't have Davi d? But she had a fundamental faith in Angel. Somehow things had to work out- if she just stayed calm and played her part.

When the bell rang, she hurried away from Amy's questioning eyes and into the bathroom. She needed a moment to herself.

(Do something to your lipstick. It seems to have gone away somehow.) Ang el sounded as puzzled as any human boy.

Gillian fixed the lipstick. She ran a comb through her hair. She was somewhat rea.s.sured by the sight of herself in the mirror. The girl there wasn't Gilli an at all, but a slender, insubstantial femme fatale sheathed like a dagger i n black. The girl's hair was silky, the palest of all possible golds. Her vio let eyes were subtly shadowed so they looked mysterious, haunting. Her mouth was soft, red, and full: perfect, like the mouth of a model in a lipstick com mercial. Against the stark black of her clothing, her skin had the slightly t ranslucent look of apple blossoms.