Amy Garvey - Cold Kiss

AMY GARVEY

FOR STEPHEN, AS ALWAYS.

KEEP THE TEA AND CUPCAKES COMING, BABE.

I WASNT THINKING ABOUT FALLING IN LOVE the day I met Danny Greer. I wasnt thinking about anything beyond the paper on the Industrial Revolution I hadnt yet started, and the cool pewter sky above me. I was lying on the top row of the bleachers facing the practice field, watching the clouds skid past, and absently wondering if I could lift myself off the cold metal. Just a few inches. Nothing anyone would notice.

There wasnt much chance of that anyway. A few people were hanging out on the lower rows, seniors mostly, passing around a Red Bull and wandering off to smoke in one of their cars. Out on the field Ms. Singers fifth-period PE class was choosing up sides for soccer. No one was paying any attention to me, which suited me just fine.

Jess and Darcia had drawn sixth-period lunch, and I had lunch alone. I didnt mind being out here on the bleachers by myself, which was where Id be every lunch period until it got too cold. By November Id probably hole up in the library, hiding a yogurt from Mrs. Gaffney at the table way in the back, behind Technology and Applied Sciences. Until then I was happy to read the clouds and make the leaves dance in scuffling, twisting funnels along the curb.

Or lift myself off the bleachers, even though it hadnt worked so far.

I closed my eyes, concentrating, the ridges of the metal bench digging into my spine through my jacket. The wind had picked up, spreading the familiar scent of earth and dead leaves, but something else, too. Something heavier, thick, almost electric, like a storm in the distance.

I opened my eyes to find someone staring down at me, and almost toppled over.

I thought you were asleep, the boy said, and straightened up.

And you thought staring was a good idea?

You could have been dead, he offered with a shrug. You were doing a good imitation of a statue. Or, you know, a dead thing.

I blinked. With the weak autumn light behind him, I couldnt see much more than a rough outline of an angular face, and shaggy hair that fell into eyes deep in shadow.

I could just make out his mouth, though. It was wide, full, and right then it was twisted into a smile.

Thank you, I said without thinking, and watched him bite his bottom lip. The electric thrill vibrating in the air was in my blood now, tingling, and for a moment I felt my spine hover over the metal. A breeze whistled between my back and the bench in the afterthought of space there.

Youre kind of weird, the boy said, but he was still smiling when he pushed my legs aside and sat down next to me.

That was Danny.

It wasnt love right away, because nothing ever is, no matter what the songs say, but it was the start of it. A beginning in one way, and the end in another. I think that might always be true of love.

We were completely different. Danny was tall, sweet, graceful despite legs that went on forever. I was little, moody, uncoordinated. We didnt like the same music or the same movies. He put onions and mushrooms on his pizza and never wore socks and could sleep through a pipe bomb. I survived on bananas and yogurt and always wore hats and got carsick unless I chewed gum with my headphones on.

It didnt matter. I loved him. I loved him so much that I couldnt see anything else for a while. Danny filled the cracks inside me, blotted out the cold, empty places in the world. It didnt take long before Danny was the only thing that mattered.

Love like that is what they make movies about. Its the thing youre supposed to want, the answer to every question, the song that youre supposed to sing.

But love like that can be too big, too. It can be something you shouldnt be trusted to hold when youre the kind of person who drops the eggs and breaks the remote control.

Love doesnt break easily, I found. But people do.

Cold Kiss: Copyright 2011 by Amy Garvey.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

www.epicreads.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Garvey, Amy, 1967-

Cold kiss / Amy Garvey. 1st ed.

p. cm.

Summary: When her boyfriend is killed in a car accident, high school student Wren Darby uses her hidden powers to bring him back from the dead, never imagining the consequences that will result from her decision.

ISBN 978-0-06-199622-1

[1. Future lifeFiction. 2. Psychic abilityFiction. 3. DeadFiction. 4. Interpersonal relationsFiction. 5. High schoolsFiction. 6. SchoolsFiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.G21172Co 2011

2010040421

[Fic]dc22

CIP

AC

Typography by Torborg Davern

EPub Edition AUGUST 2011 ISBN: 9780062103352

11 12 13 14 15 CG/BV 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

DANNY WAITS FOR ME IN THE LOFT ABOVE Mrs. Petrellis garage. Weve made a kind of nest there against the wall away from the broken window. Two ancient, sour mattresses are stacked in the corner, covered with an old striped sheet I took from my basement. Theres a blanket, too, mostly for me, a wooden crate full of books and paper and colored pencils, a couple of pillows, and a box of fat white candles.

We dont see much of each other in the daylight.

Mrs. Petrellis house is behind mine, and I cut through the ragged hedge that borders our yard to make my way to the garage. Mrs. Petrelli is that indeterminate kind of oldtoo ancient to work anymore, not that she ever did, as far as I know, but not frail enough to be carted off to a nursing home yet. When Mr. Petrelli died two years ago, she sort of deflated, curling in on herself like a yellowed piece of paper. She doesnt drive anymore, so she never bothers with her garage.

Dannys lying on the mattresses when I climb the wobbly pull-down stairs, but he sits up right away. In the darkness, its startling to watch him, the slow, graceful rise of his upper body, his head turning so he can smile at me.

You came. He sounds surprised, grateful, and the words twist in my chest, a tight little knot of guilt.

I always do. I curl up beside him, laying my head on his shoulder. I always will.

I shiver a little, pressing my cheek into his collarbone. Its getting harder to remember the way Danny used to be. That Danny wouldnt have waited so patiently for me. He would have called, snuck up behind me in the hall at school, and buried his face against my neck. That Danny had ideas, crazy, late-night fantasies strung together like a paper-clip chain. He was going to teach me to sing so I could join his band, and then we would go on the road. Ryan was going to be the one to finance our rock Odyssey, even though Becker was the one with money, because Danny said Ryan was the one with the brains. Dannys charm got under your skin the way a good song got stuck in your head, and after a while you couldnt help humming it.

Then there was the comic strip idea. Danny had pages of drawings of me, and one day I found him redrawing them with broader strokes, bolder outlines, exaggerating my pointed chin and the way my hair spiked up in the front. I thought I looked like a sullen baby chick, but he just shook his head and pulled me onto his lap. Youre going to be a superhero. Itll be awesome. Trust me.