Corruption - Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

"Mike?" I whispered into the dark once more. I stepped onto the balcony. Mike had his back to me, looking at the moon. He had his shirt off, his bare chest gleaming in the moon. He was only wearing pajama pants, his bare feet perched on the stone cold ground.

He looked just like Aden had, but Aden was in the sun, not moonlight. The irony was so great in the situation, I had to choke back a laugh. Mike was breathing deeply, his chest moving in a steady beat. I walked towards him and put my hand on his back, remembering what I had done with Aden

Mike jumped, not knowing I was there. When he saw me, his lips turned up in a smile. I saw him look me up and down before he said anything. "I gave you those." he gestured to my pajamas.

I copied Mike's actions, looking him up and down as well. "And I gave you those."

"You couldn't stay away long enough, could you?" Mike asked, puffing out his chest.

I didn't answer. I really couldn't stay away; I wasn't going to tell him that.

I went to the railing and looked out. Mike had a view of the garden, small lights littered the trail's maze, lighting up the twists and turns through all the plants. I turned my back on the garden and hoisted myself up on the railing. I adjusted my body so I would be able to balance.

I watched Mike's movements, his body language. He was really fidgety, constantly moving something. I could tell he wanted to tell me something, to ask me something, but didn't know what. As I watched him closer, he bit the side of his lip, then I was sure he wanted to talk, he was just nervous.

I knew he wasn't going to be the first to bring up the topic he wanted to talk about, so I decided to try and figure out what it was he was thinking. "So, do you have any plans for the summer?"

Mike gave me a sideways glance. "No, not after I leave here."

"Me either. This summer is going to be pretty boring."

"Yeah."

He didn't turn to look at me. He was still biting his lip, making me very anxious. I decided that it would be easier to just come right out and ask him. "Do you want to tell me something?"

Mike slowly turned to face me. He leaned on the railing with one arm, resting there. "Yes." I waited for more, but he stopped there. He didn't say anything else. He came a little closer to me, I could see that he had a serious look in his eyes. This was going to be serious.

"Are you going to tell me?" he asked.

I tried to rack my brain, thinking. I had no idea what he was talking about. he didn't say anything else to explain himself either. I didn't know what to say to him. "I don't know--what you mean."

"About before." he said, solemnly.

Now I was the one who was getting nervous. Was it that personal that he was to nervous to asked me the question he really wanted to ask? Mike extended his forearm toward me, showing it to me. I could see light, slightly raised pieces of skin on his arm. I remembered exactly where he had gotten those. Marissa had done that to him. He was unconscious at the time, so he obviously didn't remember.

I remembered how he was lying on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his head. My hands felt like they were on fire when I touched Mike that night. All I could think about was he was going to be okay. I don't know how exactly I did it, but I did. No one can believe he didn't at least turn into a vampire, I can. He wasn't meant to be one. He was meant to be human, always has been, always will be.

"How did I get these? Why did I get these?" I glanced at his face. His eyes were full of wonder. He had finally wanted to talk about that night, that night that everything went wrong; but I didn't. I didn't want him to get upset or angry with me.

I shifted on the railing, not answering his question.

He asked some more. "What did that women want with you? And why you?"

I didn't answer those either. I wasn't ready to talk about it, and Mike knew that. He was so good about not asking me about it. I figured it was killing him inside not knowing. He nearly died that day, and he didn't even know why. I did. It was because of me. He was so miserable because of me. Mike came to Maine for me but his parents fought about it. His dad left him because of me. It was all my fault.

Mike grabbed my arm, swiveling me to look at him. "Please, Candace. I want to know, I need to know."

He was pleading now. I couldn't resist him any longer. "Marissa wanted the book."

"Why?"

I shifted again. This topic made me very uncomfortable. "Because it has powers."

"What kind of powers?"

"I am not sure. I only had them for a few minutes. They were really strong ones too. I loved it." I hadn't told anyone that before. It just felt right to say.

"You had the powers?" Mike asked a little stunned.

"Yes, don't you remember?"

Mike shook his head. "I was unconscious for most of it."

"You mean, you didn't see me?" I was really surprised by this. A little disappointed as well. That was one of my shinning moments, I didn't have many of those, and he missed it!

"Yeah. Why? Were you hot?" he asked slyly.

Red spots flared on my cheeks. I didn't know what to say to that. Thankfully I didn't have to say anything. Mike asked another question.

"Do you still have your powers?"

"No. They disappeared with the book. We burned it so no one can have them again."

Mike looked nervous again. He shifted where he was standing. He looked down at his scars as he spoke. "Why did she try to kill you?"

"Because she wanted the book and I wouldn't let her know where it was. She wanted me to tell her."

"And you didn't."

"No, I had people to protect.

Mike traced his fingers over the scars on his arm. "So why did I get these?"

"Marissa did that."

"Yeah, but why?"

I didn't want to answer that question. I was getting really upset just thinking about it, let alone talking about it. "Because of me." I whispered.

Mike sighed, frustrated. "So she did this to me so you would give her the book..." I nodded. "...but you wouldn't give it her. That is why she kept hurting me."

His voice was harsh, accusing. I knew he was starting to get angry with me. I flinched away from him, scared I was hurting him more than I thought.

I jumped down from the balcony. I started to walk away, done with this conversation. I wouldn't say anymore, I couldn't. "I'm sorry Mike."

"I..." Mike began but I interrupted. "Mike..." Tears were running down my cheeks, making them glisten in the dim light. I turned around to look at him. "...I am really sorry Mike. Maybe if I had called you back before...maybe if you hadn't had come here, things would have been different. Maybe so many people wouldn't have died, maybe more would have. I don't know." I chocked on every word I said, trying to get it out.

I gulped in a lung full of air, trying to speak clearly. "I'm not blaming you, I blame myself. It is my fault I didn't call you back. You got worried, I get that. When you came here, it was my fault you got hurt, my fault you almost died. If you hadn't come for me, your parents wouldn't have gotten into a fight. Then your dad wouldn't have left.

"Everything is my fault. I hurt you way too much and I am sorry for that. Maybe I should have given the book to Marissa. Then she might not have hurt you so bad, I don't know. I will never know. Maybe I should have let Marissa kill me. Then everyone would have been happier than they are now. Everything would be back to normal and you wouldn't hurt so bad. Maybe I'll do it myself. Then there will be no more drama and everyone will be happy again." I finished, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

When I said, 'Maybe I should have let Marissa kill me..." Mike jumped off the railing, hurt and anger on his face. He didn't come towards me as I talked. He stood there and waited for me to finish.

When I was done, I waited for him to say something, anything. Something in anger, in hurt, in happiness for all I care; it was better than the silence that was slowly surrounding us. What I didn't expect was for Mike to do what he did.

He cocked his head to one side, searching my face. I saw a single tear run off his cheek and onto the floor, making a very small splatter of hot, wet tears on the cement.