Oblivion (Page 114)
- Page 1
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
Varen’s eyes slid toward Gwen.
“Right,” she said, holding up a palm. “Outlaw don’t need no sling. I smell what you’re steppin’ in.”
Turning back to Isobel, Varen brushed a thumb across her cheek, over her scar, his touch causing her eyelids to flutter.
“I still attest it’s a good look,” he said.
Oh crap. He meant the mascara.
Flushing, Isobel bowed her head and fiddled with the tissue wad, sending a rain of graham cracker crumbs onto the dirt mound.
Having known how hard this would be for Varen—his first visit to Bruce’s grave and, consequently, the last time she and he would be together before the next school year—Isobel had wanted so badly to be strong. She’d been relying on the old cheerleader trick of fake-it-till-you-make-it, but tears or not, she should have known better than to think Varen wouldn’t see through her facade. Weren’t they done with masks, anyway?
Isobel heard the clink of his wallet chains as he shifted to stand in front of her, his ash-free combat boots sliding into view. Tucking his fingers under her chin, Varen lifted her face to his. With his other hand, he took the tissues from her and dabbed gently beneath her eyes.
“Good look,” he said, “but . . . not you.”
“No, no,” Gwen said after a beat, and stuffing the cookie sleeve under one arm, she snatched the tissues from Varen and inserted herself between them. “Not like that. Look. You gotta lick it first.”
“Gwen!” Isobel squealed, yanking her head to one side and batting away the now saliva-swathed tissues. “Gross!”
“Yet effective,” Gwen said. “Potent as paint thinner.”
“You were dropped as a child, weren’t you?” Varen asked her.
“Maybe once or twice,” Gwen said, “but at least I wasn’t raised by highly literate vampires who, every night just before bed, fed me a steady diet of dark sarcasm and gothic horror fiction.”
“Every morning before bed,” Varen corrected. Stepping forward, he moved toward the headstone. “We slept during the day.”
“Right,” Gwen joked, but even Isobel heard the hitch in her friend’s voice.
Varen crouched in front of the stone, resting one hand on top of it as quiet settled among the three of them. Birds twittered in the trees, and somewhere far away, cars swooshed by.
Isobel watched Varen as she tried again to suppress the surge of sorrow that flooded her system. But waves of emotion washed through her at the sight of that upside-down crow spread over his back, safety-pinned to the hunter green mechanic’s jacket that, for a time, had been hers.
After placing the bouquet at the base of the marker—three red roses for the three buried family members—Varen stayed low, staring down at the place where polished granite met dirt.
“It’s beautiful, you know,” Isobel said at last, when he didn’t rise. “The epitaph. Bruce, he . . . he would have liked it.”
Varen nodded, though he still did not rise or look back. Just hung his head.
More quiet. More birds. Swoooosh. Swooooosh.
“O Captain, my Captain,” Gwen said, brightening suddenly and snapping her fingers. “I know that from somewhere. Wait—don’t tell me. I got this. Eeehhh—Walt Disney.”
Slowly, very slowly, Varen rose. He turned his head with equal deliberateness to send a penetrating stare over his shoulder at Gwen. Minus the shreds of inky locks that had caged his face before, the look was the same one Varen had given Isobel on many occasions. Most notably when they’d met in the library that first time to study for their project. And again in the attic of Bruce’s bookshop.
“Whitman,” Varen said. “Walt Whitman.”
“Oh yeah,” Gwen said, plastic rustling as she dug for another cookie. “The guy from Breaking Bad. I knew that. Anybody want a Thin Mint?”
Varen shut his eyes.
He remained that way for what must have been an entire minute.
Then, without warning, tears escaped his lowered lids, rushing fast down his cheeks and over his own scar—that still-healing patch of torn skin dealt to him by the Nocs.
“Aaaand . . . looks like my work here is done,” Gwen said. “Think I’ll go try to chat up the Warden while you two . . . catch up. See if I can get m’self off the naughty list, since he’s in a pardoning mood.”
Gwen didn’t wait for permission but quickly walked away, hurrying toward where Isobel’s father stood beside the sedan.
Without looking, Isobel knew her dad had to be pacing, arms folded, scowl firmly in place. Blood pressure high, forehead vein well pronounced.
- Page 1
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123