One (One Universe)

stop my tears now. I step closer to him.
    He’s touching me, body against body in so many more places than I ever imagined letting a boy ever touch me. But it’s warm and okay. The feel of his skin and bones reminds me that he’s just a boy, a sweet one. Not a threat.
    I sniffle, and I’m horrified at myself, but something about being in his arms is so warm and wonderful that I start to laugh. It’s not a giggle, and it’s not nervous. It’s relief, to be standing here in this room being held by a boy who understands me without words.
    He laughs, too, and we stay there for a long moment. He pulls back and looks down at me.
    “Mom really wanted me to take lessons,” he says, his voice low. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her when I finally decided I wanted to quit. You?”
    I laugh once. “Pent-up anger, I guess. Sucking at being a Super pissed me off more than anything else. No one cares if you beat drums, so…”
    He laughs again, and he’s so close I can feel his breath. His eyes focus on some part of my face in such a strange way for the briefest instant. Then, like a switch has been flipped, he stands up straighter, takes the slightest step backward. I try not to make my breath too audible.
    “We’ve, uh… I’ve gotta be back,” he says, his voice gentle and affectionate. He motions toward the door at the back of the room, which leads outside. “Let me walk you to your car.”
    I’m suddenly shy, but I have to say it. “Only if you promise I can come back. You know…to play again.”
    He nods and smiles that smile of his again, the one that’s small but real, and I shake a little.
    “Done,” he says. There’s a pause, and we just kind of stand there looking at each other.
    Elias walks me out the door. On the way down the steps, he reaches out and gently takes my hand.
    “What are you…” I say, and he guides me to the outside wall and presses my hand — palm first and then finger by finger — to a shining black panel there. It glows to life under my skin.
    “Rosie,” he says to the panel, “Give Merrin full house access, okay?”
    “Full house access granted to Merrin Grey,” Rosie says.
    I lean in toward the panel. “Um, thanks?”
    “You have to say her name.” The grin on Elias’s face is so infectious that I want to laugh.
    “Thanks, Rosie,” I say, looking at Elias.
    “My pleasure, Merrin,” she says. I shake my head and look back at the house.
    “When I say ‘come back any time,’ I mean it,” he says softly.
    “But I don’t even…”
    “Know me? Well, maybe you do a little better, now, huh?”
    The idea of driving all the way to Elias’s house to sneak in and play drums sounds enticing and silly at the same time. I shake my head in a way that could mean either “maybe” or “no, I wouldn’t do that,” depending on how he wants to see it.
    He beams. Guess he really does want me back.
    We walk back to my car, and the gravel crunches under our feet. My body shakes with the sudden chill in the air — the sunlight is the only difference between warm and chilly in the autumn.
    “Whoa,” I say. “I should have brought a jacket.”
    Elias picked up his sweatshirt on the way out of the music room but never put it back on. I can see goosebumps on his arms, but he swings it around my shoulders. The sleeves reach to my knees, and he smiles.
    Oh my God. He thinks I said it to flirt with him or get his sweatshirt or something. “No, I didn’t… I mean, there’s heat in my car.”
    “And there are more sweatshirts in the house. No worries.” He smiles at me, but there’s a hint of disappointment hiding behind it.
    Elias unplugs my car from the strip. I duck into the driver’s seat without looking at him, push the startup button, and shiver into the sweatshirt one more time, cranking up the heat. When I start to back up, I roll down the window.
    “Thanks. Um, you know. For everything.” Suddenly, I can’t make eye contact with him. Or I don’t want to. Or I’m afraid to.
    He starts back toward the house and waves over his shoulders with two fingers extended.
     
    That night, I have vague dreams, dreams that involve flashing golden light. It’s the only thing I can see. Something makes my hair lash across my face, blows it back again, and then it catches on my skin. It’s the wind, rushing past me. I only feel it on my back, even though my whole body is moving.
    The front half of my body presses up against something, but I don’t know what.