The Sententia: Second Thoughts Part 10

As soon as Amy left, finally, I went into hyper mode, picking up the room, smoothing my sheets, putting out the candles where I'd planned them. I spent a long time straightening my hair until it was like gla.s.s, and making sure my dress fit just so. Maybe it was all silly, and not very spontaneous, but I'd waited long enough for this. I wanted it to be perfect.

OUR ANNIVERSARY DINNER was amazing-romantic, relaxed, everything I hoped it would be-and totally worth "sneaking out" for. I hadn't asked permission to go off campus, but on the first night of break, pretty much no one was around to care. We were on our way back in time for curfew though, just in case. Not that I wasn't planning on breaking a few more rules.

Carter held my hand, as usual, and gave it a brief squeeze as he made the turn onto Main Street. He'd worn a suit tonight that might have been new and unexpectedly even a tie. I really wished we had more opportunity for fancy dinners. I knew my dress was a hit too, from the impressed look on his face when I'd finally slipped off my long coat at the restaurant. I felt s.e.xy, the way he looked at me, and desired in exactly the way I wanted to be.

"Didn't you have a good time?" he asked, swinging my hand up to his lips for a quick kiss.

"What? I had a great time. The best. Didn't you?"

He kissed my hand again. "Of course. You're just quiet. You seem a little tense."

Okay, I was both of those things. I just didn't think it was that obvious. "No!" I said, a little too tensely, and cleared my throat. "It's just...almost curfew."

"Well, we're home now, with minutes to spare." He turned down the narrow road that led behind the bookstore and pulled into his spot. Tonight I actually waited for him to come open my door. When I stepped out, he added, "We even have time to walk the long way back."

Exactly like we had a year ago.

We took the same route, with the same quiet around us, and the same entwined fingers. Unlike a year ago, they were comfortable that way, natural. My fingers didn't tingle anymore when he held them; they just felt right.

When the curfew bell started to ring, we stopped under the oak tree, our oak tree, for a kiss. That still made me tingle, in all the right ways. When I pulled away, to lead us to my door, Carter hugged me even more tightly, whispering in my ear, "Not yet." He kissed me one more time before taking something from his coat pocket and holding it out. Whoa. I'd thought the fancy dinner date and sneaking out were his gift to me. I expected this less than the tie.

It was a small box in an unmistakable shade of blue and tied with a white ribbon. I sucked in a breath and couldn't seem to make my hand close around it. If not for Carter's help, I'd have dropped it.

"I love you, Lainey," he said. "I have since the first time you kissed me right here, and even before. Happy year." When my fingers shook as I tried to untie the bow, he laughed. "It's safe. I promise." He pulled the ribbon himself and eased off the cover.

Inside was a diamond, but not the kind I was way-way-too young for. Nestled in the white interior was a single bezel-set diamond solitaire on a slender platinum chain. It was too much, but I loved it anyway. In fact, I thought I might cry.

In the bright moonlight, it threw sparkles across my fingers and glittered like the frost that covered the ground. It also matched perfectly the ring I always wore on my right hand, the one my aunt had made for me from my mom's engagement ring for my thirteenth birthday.

"I love it," I told Carter as he clasped it around my neck. "I love you. And I have a present for you, too," I told him, and started toward my dorm building.

I kissed Carter on the porch steps, like we always did when he dropped me off, but this time it wasn't the kind of kiss that said good bye. I stepped backwards, pulling him with me, shus.h.i.+ng anything he might say with another kiss. Quietly, I opened the door behind us and, for the first time ever, tugged him inside. His eyes were a little wide, but knowing, and he followed me up the stairs without a word or a sound.

Once we were in my dorm room, I locked the door behind us and let the moonlight guide me to the candles arranged on our wide windowsill. The green walls looked romantic and warm in the soft light, like my roommate had chosen the colors just for this. Maybe she had.

Carter waited patiently just inside the door. He hadn't moved except to take his coat off and fold it next to my dresser. Much like the night a year ago when I'd first kissed him-really kissed him-when we'd first started dating, I knew Carter was entirely aware of what was about to happen, but he didn't rush anything, didn't make any moves at all until I was ready.

His gaze took in my room in the flickering candlelight, and I knew they saw the package of condoms still on my nightstand, before returning to linger on me. That look, full of equal parts love and desire, was all I needed to solidify my decision. I was nervous but excited and, for all my planning, not entirely sure what I meant to do next.

Carter made it easy for me. He smiled and cleared his throat before saying, "No more waiting?" They were the first words we'd spoken since we'd entered my dorm, and the last we'd say for what I'd remember was a very long time. He never took his eyes from mine and I smiled back, shaking my head. No more waiting.

To punctuate my answer, I unzipped my dress, letting it fall to the floor at my feet, and waited for him. After an intake of breath, he crossed the room and stood before me. His hands traced down my arms, so lightly and slowly it made me s.h.i.+ver, and he kissed me once before scooping me up and placing me gently on my bed.

It took him almost no time at all to take off his suit, shoes, and watch, the last thing he'd do quickly for the rest of the night. He stood before me, achingly beautiful in only a pair of boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, and I was nervous again. And excited and curious and a million different emotions that made my heart beat rapidly in my chest. I'd made the decision but now I needed him to make a move.

Like most times though, he understood this instinctively, without any prompting on my part. Carter joined me on the bed, where he proceeded to ease my nerves and make my pulse race in a different, much more pleasant way.

LATER, I RESTED my head on his bare chest, luxuriating in the sensation of his fingers running through my hair and the pleasant warmth of his body next to mine. I let my fingers play with the necklace he'd given me, the cool of the metal a contrast to the heat in my skin and my memories.

When I thought back on this night, our first night, I'd always remember how Carter had been patient, gentle, and tender. Pretty much everything I wanted for my first time. After all my talking and thinking and hearing about s.e.x, I was prepared for every possibility-pleasure, pain, something in between-but it was a little bit of each of them. All the talking and thinking in the world couldn't compare to experiencing it. s.e.x was something new, and foreign, and full of possibilities. I wanted to do it again.

As the candles burned out, one by one, Carter said, "I love you, Lainey," into the growing darkness. It was a simple sentence, one I'd heard many times before, but this time it settled over me with gravity, like a soft, heavy blanket. I'd never felt so safe or loved or right.

"I love you too," I told him, before I fell asleep for the first time in the warmth and comfort of his arms.

CARTER KNEW THE unspoken Northbrook rules as well as anyone, so it was shortly before dawn that he slipped out of bed, kissing me in my half-sleep before he quietly closed my door and left for home. My bed felt cold and empty in a way I'd never thought it was before, but I drifted back to sleep before long.

My phone woke me. I grappled for it with an odd feeling of dej vu, wondering what time it was and if it was my aunt, or Carter, calling like a year ago. But it was neither. It was Amy.

"So?" Her voice was excited, and far more awake than it usually was at whatever time of morning it had to be. It sounded like she was bouncing on her bed.

"So I was asleep?" I said vaguely. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. G.o.d, it was earlier than she usually got up but it wasn't that early. Not for me.

She giggled. "It must have been a really late night then. So, spill. How was it? No, scratch that, I can guess how it was. How many times?"

"Amy! Jesus!" The heat from my face could probably melt the phone.

"So at least twice then, huh?"

"AMY!" I rubbed my eyes again and sat up, slipping on my robe to go sit on the horrid divan. I couldn't have any of this conversation laying in the same bed she wanted to hear details about.

She laughed again but her next words were all genuine concern. "Seriously though, Lane. Did you do it? How are you?"

G.o.d, I thought again. She's worried about me. Before coming to Northbrook, I'd thought I was going crazy. It had turned out I wasn't, not in the way I thought, but I realized that didn't mean I wasn't crazy. But I loved Amy for her concern, and she wouldn't have been Amy without her curiosity. So I owed her some answers, if only I knew what they were.

How was I? I stretched, took a mental tabulation of my body, my brain. Blushed again as I remembered every moment of Carter slipping off the last of his clothes, and everything after that...

A thump, thump, thump sound interrupted my mental replay, like Amy had knocked the phone on her bed. For a moment, I'd actually forgotten I was talking to her.

"Lane, h.e.l.lo? Now you're worrying me."

"Sorry! I was...remembering."

"Now that's what I'm talking about! So remember out loud." I couldn't do that. I'd never, and she knew it, but I did answer her question. "I feel...different."

"Like a woman now?" she t.i.ttered.

"Shut up."

"Really though, I know what you mean."

I wasn't sure that was true. Something was different that I couldn't put my finger on.

Amy's voice interrupted my thoughts again. "Okay, Lane, I get it. You're still in ooh-la-la land, not really on the phone with me right now."

It was only half right, but I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry."

"Just tell me this-did you like it, or at least not, you know, hate it? You're kind of a freak about things you've never done before, so I figure you're a little extra freaked about this one."

After a brief hesitation, during which I really thought about the answer and also told myself to just relax already, I decided to tell her the truth. I cleared my throat. "Well, it wasn't magic and rainbows," I said, as she'd once joked, "but...I wish he was here right now, so yeah. I liked it."

"That's my girl! So, how many in-?"

"AMY!"

After we hung up, I went back to thinking. Really, what I liked most about it was that I was doing it with Carter. And it was true I wished he was with me right now, but really more for comfort than for s.e.x. I was fidgeting. I couldn't figure myself out. Yes, my body felt different in a not entirely unpleasant way, like when you exercise muscles you haven't used in a long time. Or ever, as the case was. But that wasn't what was bothering me. I liked that feeling. No, something was wrong.

I shook my head to try to clear it. My aunt's flight would be landing soon and she'd be here before I knew it. I had to get myself together before then. What was it? Why did I feel so...off?

Maybe the problem was simply that I wanted to see Carter. I was feeling strange and lonely and I needed to kiss him. To see the delighted expression he never hid whenever I walked into the bookstore, and remind myself that everything was fine. Better than fine. He wasn't just my boyfriend anymore. Now, he was my...lover. I'd never imagined using that word in relation to myself, but that's what he was. He'd make me feel better.

I decided to send him a message, or call, just to hear his voice. By this time, he'd already have run and showered and be downstairs in the bookstore, reading a newspaper or four. I reached for where I'd tossed my phone onto the divan next to me, sliding my fingers across the beautiful-creepy-silk when I stopped. That was it. I couldn't feel the couch. Not the silk, that was still there, but its history.

I couldn't feel the couch's imprint, the tiny bit of nausea it never failed to cause me, as its memories tried to force their way into my brain.

The whole reason I'd sat on it was to help wake me up while I tried to talk coherently to Amy. But it hadn't worked. I ran my fingers across it faster, but nothing came. Nothing but a tiny tingling, a spark of not warning but intuition, telling me there was something to know about this couch.

A spark.

I closed my eyes and opened my mind, letting loose the Diviner sense I usually kept tightly controlled. The vision that played out was clearer, and more precise, and more informative than any I'd ever had. I opened my eyes not a moment later and understood.

My Sententia gift had been sparked.

Chapter Thirteen.

I laughed. It wasn't exactly funny, but the longer I spent in the Sententia world, the more morbid my sense of humor became. Sparked! Me! Carter had told me about it, the way s.e.x could fast-forward the development of Sententia gifts, but it wasn't a possibility I'd entertained a single thought of. I'd been far busier thinking about other things, or not thinking at all.

But now! If I hadn't been laughing, I probably would have screamed. All the migraines, and all that time I'd spent working and fretting and pa.s.sing out, trying to develop control over my Grim senses. And all that time I'd spent worrying and fretting and waiting to have s.e.x too-what a waste! If I'd just gone ahead and done it months ago, I'd have solved all my problems and had a whole summer of lots of easy private time with Carter.

What. An. Idiot.

I mean, how often did that happen? Once every never? I was the girl who actually waits to have s.e.x and it turns out to be the wrong choice. Just my luck. I wished I could call Amy and tell her this. She'd understand and laugh along with me.

But I couldn't, so I decided I would call Carter, like I'd originally planned.

"HEY YOU," CARTER said, sounding so sweet and serious and happy that I called, all at the same time, that I temporarily lost the ability to respond. My mouth opened, but no words came out, like the right thing to say got lost and was trying to fight its way past my vocal cords.

All I managed to produce was a breathy, "Uh."

"What's wrong?" Just like that, the delight of a few seconds ago was gone.

"Nothing!" I lied. "I just...miss you. My aunt will be here soon, and I have to get ready. But I, uh, really want to see you."

He exhaled. "Okay, well, maybe I can help with the first problem. Your timing is perfect. Come downstairs."

I guessed that meant he was on my porch. Just like last year. "Um, can you give me a few? I'm not dressed." And not sure how to tell him what I needed to tell him, but sure I didn't want it to happen on the porch.

"I don't care. Seriously. Just go downstairs and you'll understand why." I sensed he was smiling on the other end of the line. I hated disappointing him.

"Okay, I'm going." I tied my robe tightly and tramped down to the front door.

Behind it was not Carter but a woman I didn't recognize, her back turned to the door. When I opened it, she turned around and smiled. "Oh, there you are. Lainey Young?" she asked. When I nodded, she handed me the exquisite bouquet of roses she was holding.

They were lush and full, a perfect mix of red, fuchsia, and deep orange blooms, and smelled like love and happiness. They also must have cost a fortune in November and probably came all the way from Vermont.

"They're beautiful," I told Carter, after I thanked the florist and closed the door.

"So are you," he said. Dropping his voice, he added, "So beautiful, it hurt me to leave you this morning."

At that I sighed, and almost thought I might cry. No matter what happened, I wondered sometimes how I got so lucky to have someone love me so much. As I stepped back into my room, and before I could think any more about it, I said, "Carter, I have something to tell you."

If he was concerned earlier, he was absolutely frantic now. "What? Are you okay? Did I...? Is it, it's not the vision, is it?"

"No! I'm okay, I guess. It's just, I...think I was sparked." The last words came out all in a rush. I wasn't sure why it seemed such an embarra.s.sing thing to say.

Silence. "Carter? Did you hear me?" I slumped back down on the divan. Now that I felt more in control of my connection to it, it no longer bothered me as much.

He finally said, "Which, uh, gift?"

Now that was an interesting question. I hadn't even thought how the other gift, the one I didn't like to think about, could have been sparked too, or what that might mean. I wondered, though. "Are they really even separate?"

"I don't know."

I looked at the roses, in all their blooming loveliness, where I'd placed them on my dresser. And decided to kill one.

The petals were like satin memories between my fingers, and I hated to do this to them, but I couldn't think of another way to test my theory. I was ready to Think the flower to its possible demise but decided the stem would be a better place to touch. Careful to avoid the thorns, I pulled one from the vase, closed my eyes, and Thought.

Nothing happened. The rose was still as beautiful as when I first touched it. I'd felt none of the electricity of Thought in my blood either.

"Lane?" I heard Carter say.

"Sorry, I was...testing something. I don't know about the other one, but Divining, yeah. Definitely."

"s.h.i.+t," he muttered. "I can't leave. You'll have to come here."

"What?"

"I'm the only one at the store. I can't leave. I need you to come here. I'm sorry."

"Why? You mean now?"