Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [87]
“Yara,” he whispered at the same time Cherie called “Yara,” from across the room.
My eyes slid past Brent toward her, slamming the door on the moment we had just shared. There wasn’t much I could do for Cherie anymore, aside from stopping Thomas. She was beyond my ability to comfort. I was past the point of being much use to anyone . . . anyone but Brent. My eyes cut to Brent, then darted back and forth between the two, my past and my present, settling finally on Brent’s cocoa brown eyes.
My world lurched, a spasm of dizziness spun through me, and I brought my fingers to my head to steady myself. When the emotional earthquake stopped, I climbed to my feet, stumbling slightly. Brent held out his hand and made sure I was stable before releasing me, my skin hot from his touch. I peeked at him, shyly, from the corner of my eye hoping to see some proof that something had altered in him as well, but he seemed unchanged. He still had the same teasing smile, the same mischievous eyes and casual stance. By all appearances, he was the same old Brent, not one who had been so shaken when he thought he’d lost me. I had to wonder, inside the part of my mind where I could hide such thoughts from him, if I was imagining these significant moments.
Cherie reached out to where I had been standing in our bubble then wrapped her arms around herself. Her grief was still strong, but I could also sense that a kernel of hope had been planted inside her. Her eyes swept around the room as if she knew I was still there, smiling as her hope took root and blossomed.
“Bye, Yara.” She waved goodbye, walking a little taller than she had when she came in. I trailed behind her, following her outside, then watched her leave, knowing she’d be alright. Another hurt that had haunted me was now starting to heal itself, right now it might be like putting a Band-Aid over a wound that needed stitches and was gushing blood, but eventually it would get better.
“Is it always harder for the ones we leave behind?” I asked.
“When you disappeared into that bubble, I thought I was the one left behind. And yes, I think it is.”
My eyes followed Cherie until I lost her shape in the night’s gathering shadows. The moment seemed symbolic— me staying behind with Brent, while wistfully watching as Cherie moved forward in a yet undetermined future. For a few minutes more, I stared at the place where Cherie had disappeared from my sight, trying to imagine myself still beside her. The image wouldn’t form in my imagination; all it could conjure was me walking the path in the opposite direction, next to Brent.
A serene smile plastered itself on my face as I angled toward him, resting against one of the glass walls. “I had no idea that death could be so complicated. One death influences so many people.”
Brent stared past me, thinking. “Yeah.”
I pushed off the wall and walked back into the building feeling Brent behind me. He almost gagged before he covered his mouth and nose. “What is that awful smell?”
I breathed in deeply with a smile. “It isn’t awful. It’s beautiful. It’s Cherie.”
“Well, ‘Cherie’ is so potent, we’re going to be smelling her everywhere on campus for days.”
“I love it.” My fingers played with the necklace Cherie had given me. “She brought me a gift.”
“She was able to put that on you?” Brent’s eyes opened wide and he rocked back on his heels, as he studied the necklace curiously.
“Yep— it was Vovó’s idea.” I then told him all the new information I had received from Cherie.
Brent bit his nails, thinking. “Your grandma seems to know a lot.”
“Yeah, she does. All that time I wanted her to be normal; turns out she was smarter than the whole bunch.”
“It seems to be that way with life.”
I felt the familiar pull, taking me to reenact my death.