Radiant Read online

  R A D I A N T

  By

  Christina Daley

  Copyright © 2013 by Christina Daley. All rights reserved worldwide.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN 9781301177172

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Visit christinadaley.blogspot.com for information.

  For my sistas

  Table of Contents

  1 Interference

  2 Tear

  3 Recovery

  4 Crimson

  5 Reflections

  6 Rings

  7 Fake

  8 Phases

  9 Convinced

  10 Opt-Out

  11 Salt and Holy Water

  12 Without Words

  13 Lapse

  14 Epiphany

  15 Sci-Tech

  16 Touch

  17 Truth

  18 Ghost

  19 Translation

  20 Burn

  21 SPF

  22 Promise

  23 Wish

  24 Bad Day

  25 Watched

  26 Ultimatum

  27 Shot

  28 ICU Again

  29 Loss

  30 Therapy

  31 Can

  32 Release

  33 Martin

  34 Found

  35 A Better Human

  36 A Visit

  - 1 -

  Interference

  Mary rolled off the plastic lounge chair, hitting something hard and flat with a graceless thud. "Ow," she mumbled.

  She lay there for a moment, wondering if she should wake up enough to climb back onto the chair. Then again, the apartment roof wasn't so bad. Especially with the sunlight warming things up and…

  Mary's eyes shot open. The sun was up already and she wasn't ready for school yet?

  "Crap!" she gasped as she scrambled to her feet and made a break for the door. Her telescope was still standing where she had left it, but she would have to come back for it later.

  Mary flew down the stairs and into the apartment on the fourth floor. She stumbled out of her clothes and into the shower, where the cold water finished waking her up. This wasn't the first time Mary had fallen asleep on the roof. But this was the first time in a while that she'd woken up this late on a school morning.

  She took a cold shower, since she couldn't wait for it to warm up. When she had shut off the water and wrapped a towel around herself, the front door opened. Mom, still in her hospital scrubs, came in. As usual, she looked tired. "Hey, Sweetie—Mary! You haven't dressed yet?"

  "Fell asleep on the roof," Mary mumbled as she darted into her room, tripping over a stack of canvas paintings on the floor and knocking over tubes of paint on her desk. She headed to the closet and grabbed pieces of her uniform. She hadn't time to iron anything, so she just put everything on wrinkled.

  "Are you having breakfast?" Mom asked as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "Never mind. You'll miss the bus."

  Mary hopped on one foot as she tied her shoes. "Can you toss me an apple? I'll eat it on the way."

  Mom washed the apple in the kitchen sink while Mary tried to make sense of her wet hair. She couldn't, so she just let it be and grabbed her book bag.

  "Here's your apple, Mary. Have a great day and love-you-buh-bye!"

  "Thanks Mom, and love-you-buh-bye!"

  Mary was out the door and down the stairs, nearly colliding with Bruce, their Cambodian maintenance man.

  "Ay!" he cried. "How many time I tew you? No running!"

  Mary had a clever retort for him, but she held her tongue. Plus, she didn't have time this morning. He was still cursing her in Cambo as she bolted out the door and down the street towards the city bus stop. She rounded the corner just in time to see the bus pull away.

  "Crap," she huffed. There was no way she could catch it before it came to its next stop. Mary was just going to have to run to school.

  She tucked her bag under her arm for control before setting off. She felt like she was in one of those video games the boys in the apartment above played, trying to get from point A to B without crashing into something. Granted, bombs and bullets weren't flying at her, but that didn't make darting through the congested streets any less daunting.

  The school came into view at last. She wouldn't have time to stop at her locker, and she didn't know if she had all her stuff. Shoving the apple in her mouth to free her hands, Mary opened her bag and dug around inside. It looked like she had everything except…

  My brushes! she thought. Mary had left them in her brush bag on her desk, which meant they were probably on the floor with all the junk she knocked over in her haste. She was going to have to bum at least a round brush or something off someone in Art class, which sucked because she hated borrowing stuff.

  Just then, Mary ran out to the crosswalk without looking.

  SCREEEEEE—CRASH!

  "UGH!" she cried as something large slammed into her, throwing her across the ground. The pavement tore at her hands and knees, and everything went dark for a moment. Then, blurry lights and sounds began to surround her. Pain was growing all over her body, especially along her side.

  A voice called to her. It seemed close, and it was getting louder as the pain got sharper. "Hey? Hey! Are you all right?" it asked.

  Mary blinked several times before she could finally see again. She was in the middle of the street. The cars had stopped and people on the sidewalk were staring.

  "Are you all right?" the voice asked again. It was coming from a man wearing some type of uniform.

  "What…?" Mary tried to say more, but her voice suddenly stopped working.

  "Careful," he said as he helped her up. "Looks like you can move all right. Here, let's get you out of the street."

  He helped her over to the sidewalk. "Stay here. Someone's calling the paramedics." And then he was gone.

  Mary sat there, still in a daze. She started noticing familiar stuff all over the ground—an open book bag, books, folders, unused tampons, a shoe, and an apple with one bite mark. Her eyes followed the trail of debris to a brilliant red sports car, half of which was smashed in by a city bus.

  What had happened? Mary studied the whole scene, trying to puzzle together the pieces. Then it dawned on her. The car had hit her. Not intentionally. She had run in front of the bus without knowing it. It was about to hit her, but the car had gotten in the way first. It had saved her life.

  Mary thought about looking in the car. Then her feet sorta moved without her meaning them to, and she made her way to the passenger door. She recognized the person inside. Carter. She knew his last name, but she couldn't think of what it was. He was slumped over the seat with blood oozing all over his face. His eyes were shut.

  Mary knocked on the window. The tears in her hand stung.

  No response.

  She beat the window with her fist.

  Still nothing.

  Mary stared. She couldn't believe it. On any other day, she wouldn't exchange two words with this guy. Just yesterday, he nearly mowed down an elderly couple while driving out of the school lot. Mary had secretly wished he'd be taught a lesson. But she didn't mean this.

  She tried the door handle, but it was still locked. Suddenly, Carter's eyes flickered opened. He looked straight at her.

  Mary gasped and pressed her face against the window.

  Carter's eyes closed.

  She stared at him, waiting for him to open them again. Waiting for any sign of life. But he was still like he was before.

&
nbsp; Hands suddenly took hold of Mary, pulling her away from the car. Her feet moved on their own again. Someone was yelling "Miss" a lot. Parts of her brain found other noises too, like sirens, voices, beeping, and other things. The hands directed her to sit on something hard and cold.

  "Miss? Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?"

  Mary didn't answer. She still hadn't found her voice, and her mind was fuzzy, too.

  "Is that her bag there? Does she have a driver's license?"

  A different person spoke. "No license, but I found a student ID. Her name's Mary Phan. She's seventeen and a junior here at Lewis Prep."

  Mary heard a third voice. "I just talked with some of the kids on the sidewalk. One of them said her mom's a nurse at the memorial hospital."

  "Find out how to contact the mom. Anyone see what happened?"

  "Cops are questioning witnesses right now. Looks like she ran in front of the bus. It would've nailed her if that sportster hadn't gotten in the way."

  "Anything on the bus or the driver of the car?"

  "Everyone on the bus looks fine. The car belongs to a kid named Carter Maxwell. Also a junior." A sigh. "I wouldn't hold my breath. He looks really bad in there."

  Mary tuned out everything else. All sights. All sounds. The only thing she could see in her mind was Carter staring at her.

  Back to Table of Contents

  - 2 -

  Tear

  Mary didn't remember the ride to the hospital. She didn't recall going into the emergency room or the x-rays. She didn't register anything until she heard her mother's voice.

  "I want the name of that bus driver!" Mom screamed in the hallway. She threw in a few profanities as she threatened to sue the entire public transportation industry.

  Several nurses had to calm her down before they let her in to see Mary. The hysteria on Mom's face melted into tears as she ran to her.

  "Mary!" she cried.

  Mary hadn't realized how stiff she had been until she was in her mother's arms. She rested her head on her shoulder. "It was my fault."

  Mom shook her head. "It's okay, Sweetie. You don't have to—"

  "Mom." Mary looked at her. "It was my fault."

  Mom looked as if she was trying to make sense of what she said. Mary could tell she was trying to keep the blame on the bus driver. On anyone except her own daughter.

  "I wasn't looking," Mary explained.

  Mom stared at her. At last, she said, "Well, we'll worry about that later."

  The attending doctor came with Mary's x-rays. "Good news. I didn't see anything wrong. For getting hit with the side of a car, you're doing remarkably well, Mary." He turned to Mom. "She'll have some aches from her bruises, and I definitely recommend cleaning those scrapes on her hands and knees to keep them from getting infected. Might be good to keep her home for a couple days to rest."

  "Of course," Mom said in that professional tone she always used with doctors.

  "What about the kid the red car?" Mary asked.

  The doctor took off his glasses. "I'm sorry. He didn't make it."

  Mary stared at him. "But he looked at me."

  Mom and the doctor exchanged concerned glances. Mary looked down at her bandaged hands, trying hard to remember. A lot of details still weren't clear, but she did remember Carter opening his eyes. If only for a quick moment. "Can I see him?" she asked

  "I don't know if that's a good idea," Mom said.

  "Mom," Mary said. "Please."

  Mom's brow wrinkled. Then, she sighed. "We can see if his parents will allow it."

  The doctor released her, and Mary left the room with her mother. When they got to the end of the hall, they saw a homely couple speaking with one of the ER surgeons. The woman was crying, and the man clutched her as if he was keeping her from falling apart.

  "I'm very sorry Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell," the doctor said.

  "We're not the Maxwells," the man said. "I'm Marcos Romero, and this is my wife Linda. We're their housekeepers. Carter's father and stepmother are out of the country right now."

  "I see," the doctor said. "Have either of you contacted his parents? Or his mother?"

  "I called and left a message for Mr. Maxwell," Mr. Romero said. "Carter's mother past away several years ago from cancer."

  Mrs. Romero wailed. From the way she was crying, she might as well have been Carter's mom. Mary wished that she could cry with her. Mom once joked that Mary was born with the tiniest tear ducts in the world, so she didn't cry often. Now, she wished she could drum up a couple tears, if anything to not seem so unsympathetic.

  Mary looked at her mother, who nodded. Then, she cautiously approached them. "Excuse me. But I'm Mary. I'm the…what I mean is…." She couldn't find the right thing to say. Mary had always been terrible with words. Especially the sensitive ones needed for things like this.

  Mrs. Romero looked at her disheveled school uniform and her bandaged hands and knees. "You were the girl who was almost hit by the bus," she said.

  "Are you all right?" Mr. Romero asked.

  Mary nodded. "I am, thank you. But I was wondering if I could see him? Carter, I mean."

  "I would advise against that," the surgeon said. "The body…I mean Carter…is not—"

  "Please," Mary begged.

  The stout couple looked at one another. At last, Mrs. Romero said, "Let her."

  The doctor looked at her. At last, he sighed and gestured for Mary to follow him.

  Mary was used to hospitals, ever since Mom became a nurse. But she had never seen an operating room occupied. Instruments and equipment were still in the places where the doctors and nurses had left them when they were trying to save Carter's life. At the center was the operating table with a still figure on it, covered with a bloody sheet.

  The doctor took part of the sheet. "Are you sure about this?"

  No, Mary thought. But she nodded nonetheless.

  He pulled the sheet down to Carter's neck.

  Mary stared at the broken, pale face of a boy she hardly knew.

  "I'll give you a few minutes." The doctor left the room to wait outside.

  Mary studied Carter's closed eyes. Maybe when they had opened in the car, it was because of an involuntary spasm. Or maybe she really had just imagined it.

  Mary bowed her head, once again wishing she could cry now. But all she could offer was a meager, "I'm sorry."

  Mary took one last look at Carter as she turned to leave. But she stopped.

  A single tear slowly fell from the corner of Carter's right eye.

  Mary rubbed her eyes, making sure her vision was clear. Then she looked again.

  Another tear escaped from the corner of Carter's eye.

  Mary bolted from the room. "He's crying!"

  Everyone looked at her like she was a lunatic.

  "Mary, calm down," Mom said.

  "But Mom, he's crying!" Mary repeated. "He has tears coming from his eyes."

  The doctor looked at her curiously. "Are you sure? Maybe the tears came from you?"

  Mary frowned. Couldn't he tell she wasn't crying? "You have to check him again," she said.

  The Romeros looked at the doctor, like they had seen a glimmer of hope struggling through the sorrow. He sighed and shrugged, but he turned and went back into the operating room.

  A tense few minutes passed. Suddenly, the doctor burst from the door, calling for his team. Several nurses rushed in and the door closed again.

  Mary and the others hardly breathed, let alone spoke, as they waited in the hall.

  Finally, after what felt like ages had passed, the doctor came out again, followed by the undeniable sound of the heart monitor beeping.

  Carter was alive.

  Back to Table of Contents

  - 3 -

  Recovery

  When Mary woke the next morning, she was so stiff that she could barely get out of bed. Her side was one giant bruise, and everything ached. She didn't want to move, but her bladder finally forced her up and to the bathroom.
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  Mom took the day off to take care of her. She was also on the phone a lot, talking with police and insurance companies and such. It was a mess, and Mary had been given a citation for crossing the street when she wasn't supposed to. Carter apparently got one too, for running a red light.

  Mary stared at the amount for the ticket. "I'm really sorry, Mom."

  "Don't worry about it," Mom told her. "Just get better."

  But that didn't help Mary feel better. She knew money was thin between the rent, private school fees, her grandmother's medical bills that the insurance didn't cover, and the tiny bit Mom tried to tuck away for Mary's college. A police ticket was the last thing they needed.

  Mary sighed and let her forehead hit the kitchen table. "Ow."

  "Here, take your meds." Mom opened a bottle of prescription painkillers and put two in front of Mary.

  "I hate pills," Mary said.

  "I know. But you hate pain more," Mom said as she filled a glass with water and put it on the table next to the pills.

  Mary groaned, but she managed to choke down the medicine. Then, she stood and headed for the door.

  "Where are you going?" Mom asked.

  "My telescope is still on the roof," Mary said. "I need to get it."

  "No you don't," Mom said. "You need to rest."

  "But I don't want the wind to blow it over," Mary said. "And what if it starts raining?"

  "Then I'll get it," Mom said as she got up. "But you rest."

  As Mom went to get the scope, Mary sat on the couch and turned on the television. The only thing worth watching was a movie where a teenage boy died in a prank gone wrong, and a bunch of kids tried to cover it up. But the dead kid's vengeful ghost came back to haunt and kill each of them.

  The pills must've kicked in some time after the second kid was killed, because the next thing Mary knew, she was waking up to video game explosions creeping down from the ceiling. Mom must've turned off the TV when Mary fell asleep, and she had left a note on the coffee table saying she was going to pay the electric bill and pick up some groceries.