NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1)(78)

He looks at me, confused.

“The dragonfly. Did you see it?”

He nods. “Yeah, why?”

“Because… the story.” I tell him the story that I thought Finn had told me, the one that I’d actually read in his journal. The one about the dragonflies. And Heaven. And peace.

When I’m finished, Dare’s eyes are wide.

“Do you think it was Finn?” I ask seriously.

Dare shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it was a sign. Whether it was from God or from Finn or your mom. It was a sign. I believe that, Calla.”

I’m not crazy.

I smile and close my eyes, soaking in the warmth.

It is here, in the sun and against my will, that I feel peaceful for the first time since Finn died. It’s an amazing feeling, and I’m afraid to move, out of fear that when I do, the feeling will be gone.

But when I open my eyes again, it’s still here.

I’m still warm.

I’m still alive.

And Dare is with me. He smiles down at me, holding out a hand to help me up. I get to my feet, then stare at my brother’s name again.

Good night, sweet Finn.

“I love you, Finn,” I tell him, as I lean forward and kiss the top of his stone. “I’ll see you later.”

We walk through the cemetery arches but before we climb back onto the bike, I pause, staring up at the most handsome face in the world.

“It was you,” I tell him softly. “You’re the thing that brought me back. You gave me reality. You tethered me, anchored me, loved me. I thought you were going to break me, but that’s just because I didn’t understand. You were trying to help me all along.”

He pulls me to him and kisses me softly. “I love you, Calla.”

“I know.” And I do. For the first time in months. I can see it. And I believe it.

I climb on the bike behind Dare, pressing my cheek to his back.

Beneath my hands, his heart beats, vibrant and strong and alive.

I have to live, too.

I have a reason, and that reason is warm and alive and sitting in front of me.

The sun warms my back as we ride up the mountain.





44


QUADRAGINTA QUATTUOR



I sit with my brother’s journal on my lap, curled up on his bed. This is where I feel him the most, here among his things. It brings me comfort.

I open the tattered book, and flip through the pages until I find what I’m looking for… the last several entries. My blood runs cold as I stare at the words… the insane, crazy gibberish lining the page.

The handwriting is mine.

“I thought I was him,” I murmur. “But there at the end, his journal was mine.”

Dare sits next to me, careful of my brother’s space. He knows it’s sacred to me, especially now. “The human body is an amazing thing,” he says by way of explanation. “Your mind knows how to shield itself from too much pain.”

I trace the tarot card in my hand, following the ragged edges with my finger.

“I wonder what this means,” I whisper. “I didn’t know Finn ever had his cards read.”

Dare stays silent, because of course we’ll never know the answer.

I drop the journal and watch the pages flutter as it falls to the floor.

When it hits, the cover closes… a metaphor for Finn’s life.

The story is over.

I gulp.

“He did love a good metaphor,” I say aloud.

“What’s that?” Dare leans closer. I shake my head.

“Nothing.”

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Dare says with a small smile. “We should get some fresh air.”

We make our way down the trails and I cringe as we pass the Chapel because I remember the funerals now. I cringe when we pass the woodshed because I remember Finn chopping wood. And I cringe when we pass the pier, because Finn and I went out on the boat so often.

“That night… when I got drunk. I was waiting and waiting for Finn to come back with the boat. But it was me all along. I was out on the boat.”

Dare stares out at the water. “I watched for you, and when you stepped onto the pier, I knew right away you were drunk.”

I grip his hand tighter, but look away. Because God, how embarrassing. All of this.

“And Nocte,” I murmur. “Those initials were ours. We’ve been there several times before.”

“Yep. You and me. And also, you, me and Finn.”

I look at him, sharply now, because I’ve been focusing so much on my own pain, that I haven’t considered his. He and Finn had been friends for most of the year.

“You helped Finn with his senior science project,” I recall, a memory suddenly re-surfacing of Finn and Dare hovering over the kitchen table with test tubes.

Dare smiles. “Yes. He probably would’ve blown the house up on his own.”

I giggle in spite of myself. “Probably.”

I glance at him. “I haven’t asked you how you’re doing.”

Dare looks down at me. “I’m doing better now. For a while, I thought I’d lost you both.”

I swallow hard, remembering the day I’d found him punching the woodshed.

“It must’ve been so frustrating.”