Chapter 18
Ipull my sleeve back over the spot, my eyes wide and burning with tears. What’s happening to me? I try to take in a breath, but I can’t. Panicked, I look out the window to see the museum—and my Need—get farther and farther away. I gasp again.
The pain is overwhelming, but it’s the cracked flesh that’s scaring me. I feel my fingertips tingle, like there’s no circulation. The museum gets smaller in the distance as the first spots start to come across my vision. My face has gone numb; my lips feel cold. The world tilts.
“Charlotte.” Harlin moves to kneel on the carpeted floor of the car. “You’re turning blue!” I meet his eyes, not responding, not sure I can. I’m almost ready to welcome the dark when I feel him touch my hand.
And suddenly, a short breath enters my lungs. I just need Harlin. I lean forward and hug him, my face buried in his neck. He’s warm and still smells of cologne. I’m only getting air in short bursts, but it doesn’t matter. I cling to him.
“Monroe,” I whisper.
“No.” Harlin shakes his head, but doesn’t let me go. “We’re going to the hospital.”
I can still feel Harlin’s hand in my hair when the world around me fades away. Before I can make sense of the change...
I’m on the bridge again, rain pelting me. I know I’m supposed to climb on the metal railing but I take a few steps away from it. Suddenly, gold starts to glow around me and I look down to see my skin running off in flesh-colored streams of water. I clasp my hand over my forearm, trying to keep my skin on. But then I realize it’s just makeup washing away. And underneath, I’m only gold.
Harlin calls my name. My heart bursts in my chest when I see him running toward me, but I quickly cover my face. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t let him see the gold.
I feel a tug and bring my hands down, but Harlin is gone. Instead it’s Monroe standing in front of me, yelling. But his words are silent. All I can hear is rain, loud enough to make me wince and want to cover my ears.
But over and over, he mouths,Jump!
I push him back and move against the railing, grabbing it tightly. “No!” I look over the side to the dark, rough waters below. I’m terrified of falling.
Now!he silently screams, but I shake my head. And then my heart stops.
Onika appears from behind Monroe. Her face is beautiful again, not cracked and decayed like that one vision. She’s not getting wet, even though it’s raining. She puts her hand on Monroe’s shoulder, but he doesn’t react. It’s like he doesn’t even know she’s there.
She smiles at me while in the distance sirens blare as flashing lights enter the on-ramp of the bridge.
Monroe’s talking quickly and his eyes are closed as Onika snakes her body around him, whispering in his ear in unison with his mouth moving. It’s as if she’s telling him what to say.
“Stop!” I scream. It’s freaking me out and I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s real anymore.
With nowhere to go, I climb onto the railing and grip the cables, trying to keep my balance. To get away from them. I glance back over my shoulder and look down again at the choppy water.
Then the scene freezes, the rain suspended in the air, making the world around me distorted. I find Monroe as he stands, now alone, with his eyes closed. I’m about to call to him, but then he slowly looks up at me and whispers, “Jump.”
“I think she’s coming around.”
There’s a jolt and I’m awake. I feel disoriented as I glance around at the familiar white walls decorated with posters about STDs. I’m at the clinic.
I close my eyes again. “So I’m not dead?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. Even though I know where I am now, I can still feel the rain against my skin. The wind swaying me on the bridge. The word “jump” is still in my ears.
“Hardly,” Monroe says. I’m startled by how close his voice is and I turn to see him sitting next to me in a chair. His eyes are narrowed as he looks me over. “You gave your boyfriend a good scare, though,” he says in a tight voice. “Had to give you a steroid to open up your lungs. Why do you think you had this severe an attack, Charlotte?”
“Stress.” I manage to sit up. Harlin is sitting on a stool in the corner, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands over his mouth. He looks terrified.
“Hey,” I call. He doesn’t answer, he just stares at me and blinks back tears. “What?” I ask, and suddenly, I’m scared that he saw my skin, that he knows I’m a freak.
He sniffles and rubs roughly at his face. “You passed out,” he says quietly. “And I couldn’t wake you up. I thought you were dying. I—” He stops and covers his mouth again. Monroe was right—I had scared the crap out of him.
“Come here,” I say, and pat the space next to me on the cot.
“Charlotte,” Monroe begins, but I look at him sharply. He raises his hands like he gives up and stands, backing away. I have plenty to talk to Monroe about, but Harlin comes first. He always comes first.
Harlin walks over, his eyes red and his beautiful face a little blotchy. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he whispers. “You get worse every day.”
