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  “I’m perfectly capable of playing the violin.”

  “Hmm, you could be just saying that. I think I’m going to have to decide for myself.” He took my case and opened it. It was as though he were opening my heart, too, revealing the soft, vulnerable part of me that I kept safely locked away as needed. “Play for me?”

  I took hold of the violin, my ever-trustworthy companion in times of need, my portal to another world, another realm, where the only thing that existed was sound. Beautiful sound. And it was all that was needed. It was my oxygen, my sun, my water, my earth.

  I shifted my posture and assumed the correct position, my chin taking comfort as it rested on the smooth, cool surface. An inner strength and power activated my arms, the unborn music surging through them, ready to dance to life on the strings.

  And then I played. Or it played me, responding to my thoughts and emotions. Each note was like a friend, a relative, surrounding me with support. I closed my eyes, the ocean whooshing faintly beyond the cliff, a backdrop to the melody that lifted off the strings and into the air, giving flight to my music. I thought of Dad, and how we’d tossed lilies into the ocean below in honor of his memory. Where had they gone? Did they still exist in some form, a shriveled, wilted remnant of the life they once had? It didn’t matter. They had served their purpose. And Dad had served his. He had helped bring us into this world, loved Mom, and loved us. In the end, that was all that mattered.

  I blinked as two tears dripped out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

  Damon wiped them both away with his thumbs. Then he took the violin and put it away in the case. He held my hand softly in his, leaned forward, and wrapped me in a warm embrace. I exhaled and relaxed beneath his gentle but firm hold.

  My dad was gone and I didn’t know what had happened or where he was. I might not ever know. But somehow I felt like I’d get through it, I’d survive. And Damon…his mother was dying, and he had a front row seat. He knew more than he probably wanted to know. But he too would get through it, he’d survive.

  So there we sat: two friends, comforting each other, in one of the most beautiful moments of my life. And right then, that was more than enough.

  Chapter 25

  This was it. The culmination of our hard work, time, and effort to create the perfect science project. As the second group to present its project, we stood in front of the class and went through it exactly as we’d practiced. Thursday’s session had been way better than Monday’s, on account of my renewed friendship with Damon and also because no ghostly voices had interrupted us telling us to go away, which meant that at some stage I was bound to visit the Jamesons’ house again, if my auditory prediction had been correct.

  Lara had been acting like nothing had gone wrong between us last week, and Damon and I had kept our relationship platonic. Who knew what would happen after today? I doubted Lara would suddenly jump up and say, “Well, our project is over, now you can kiss and make out with my brother whenever you’d like! Knock yourself out!” But at least our twice-weekly study sessions had come to an end, so I wouldn’t have to endure any awkwardness if things went sour.

  Lara was in her element as she spoke to the class. Her eyes were wide and bright, her voice clear and confident. Damon and I had our roles to play too, but Lara was the star. Our model with the pipe cleaners sat proudly on the table as Lara summarized each wave again to conclude our presentation. And then it was time for the controversial part of our presentation. Lara had wanted to do something different, memorable, to stand out from the crowd and leave the class with a smile on their faces. Damon, in all his quirky glory, had suggested a funny dance routine. At first I’d been like, “No way on earth am I dancing in front of the class,” but when he’d said it was more like a physical representation of each brain wave, and came up with an example, I actually thought it was kind of cool. He’d made me laugh, just like when he’d made the alien antennae, and after all we’d been through, I realized what a gift it was to be able to laugh. Life needed more laughter. There was too much to make us sad, fearful, and regretful.

  Enough.

  Laugh, I say.

  And laugh we did, as we choreographed the movements last Thursday. Even Lara had laughed, which was nice to hear. But now it was time to perform it for real.

  We each stuck a purple sticky dot onto our foreheads and got into our positions, and Damon flashed a “You ready?” expression. Lara pressed the play button on an audio track we’d inserted into the PowerPoint presentation. We jerked up and down in time to the hyper music. We were the physical embodiment of gamma brain waves. The class laughed. Then we removed the purple dots and replaced them with green dots as the music changed. Time for beta waves to have their fifteen seconds of fame. We jerked again, slightly less rapidly than the gamma waves, but still quickly, to show active brain function and alert thought processes. Next up: pink dots and longer, more rhythmic jerks and waves for alpha waves, to show conscious yet relaxed brain activity. Then the music switched to a slower track as our dots switched to yellow, and our movements became slower and softer for theta waves. And for the pièce de résistance: blue dots for delta waves and smooth, floaty music. We held hands for this one, rolling our arms up and down slowly in a continuous, drowsy, zoned-out kind of way as we bobbed and swayed. The hand-holding was also a sort of secret tribute to The Delta Girls’ abilities. As we had our eyes closed, I couldn’t see Savannah’s expression, but I was sure she would get the joke.

  When the music stopped we removed the dots and bowed. Mr. Jenkins clapped, and the class joined in. Relief washed through me. All done.

  I returned to my seat with a smile on my face, though it flattened out a little when I overheard a remark from Mandy as she leaned toward Samantha: “Pfft! Resorting to musical theater to win over Mr. J.” I ignored it, but then she said something else: “That girl thinks she’s God’s gift to the universe. Freaking Einstein.”

  I gritted my teeth. That was my nickname, without the “freaking” bit, but I knew she was talking about Lara, not me. And I knew Lara had heard her too, as her fingers clenched around her pencil so hard it snapped. Even after all Mandy had found out about Lara’s family situation and her inherited disease, still she put her down. I stroked my aquamarine pendant for courage, and turned around to stare into the face of the bully who sat behind me.

  “She’s more of a gift than you’ll ever be.”

  Mandy stared at me, speechless, and I turned back around and glanced at Lara. She held up her hand and smiled. I smiled back and slapped her hand in a victorious high five.

  • • •

  By the end of the week, all the groups had had a chance to present their project to the class. Some were great, some not that great, but only one group had performed interpretive dance. Savannah had struggled through hers at first, as Mandy seemed more intent on assuming an attractive posture in front of the class than on explaining the details of their research. But then Savannah had powered through it, and although I doubted they’d get an A, she had most likely saved the day for them and helped get them a decent grade.

  We would soon find out.

  Mr. Jenkins handed out sheets of paper to each student, displaying our grades for the project, and comments on each presentation. I turned mine over.

  A.

  I smiled. Lara straightened in her chair and excitedly tapped the desk with her palms. I thanked her for her role in the project. “It was a team effort,” she replied, and I wondered if Damon had made her rehearse that line so she wouldn’t say what she would most likely have said, which would have been, “You’re welcome. I agree, I was instrumental in achieving such a great result and you certainly couldn’t have done it without me.”

  I peered at Savvy’s. Grade C. Not too bad. She shrugged, and said, “At least it wasn’t a D.”

  When the class ended, Lara turned to me and spoke: “I made celebratory cupcakes in anticipation of our expected result. I would like you to come over and eat them with us.”

>   Wow. After telling me she didn’t want me around, she was now inviting me over? This was good progress. It seemed like she had gotten over our incident from last week, and all was back to normal. “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Cupcakes…

  Tamara’s taste prediction…

  Hmm.

  I went outside to grab my bag, texted Mom to tell her where I’d be, and met Damon and Lara at the school gate.

  When we arrived at their house, I expected to be greeted by Mr. Jameson and to say hello to Mrs. Jameson, but the house was empty.

  “It’s our parents’ wedding anniversary today,” Damon said. “Dad took Mom to the city to wheel her around an exhibition, and then they were going to the picnic spot where they had their first date. Well, sort of. With the chair they wouldn’t be able to get right onto the walking trail, but he said there was a picnic table near the parking lot and he brought blankets and candles and food she’d be able to swallow.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  Lara had already dashed into the kitchen, then dashed out a moment later carrying a plate with three blue cupcakes on it, each with a lit candle poking out of the center. “It’s only fitting that we have them upstairs where the project was completed,” she said. “Especially now that the ghosts have gone.”

  A lump formed in my throat. Had they really gone? Tamara had tasted cupcakes; I was about to, now, for real. Would anything else from our vision come true? It didn’t seem like Lara would cry—or scream, for that matter—she was so happy. We all were. All I could do was enjoy the moment and stay aware.

  When we’d walked upstairs and Lara placed the plate on the coffee table, I noticed that each of her fingernails was a different color. “Cool,” I said. “Brain waves!”

  “She wanted to paint mine too, but alas, it got too late at night so I figured I’d have to make do with the plain look.” Damon wiggled his fingers.

  “You could always make up for it now,” I suggested with a grin.

  “Yeah,” said Lara.

  Damon cowered behind a cushion. “Um, no, I’ll be all right. Thanks anyway. I think we should eat these while they’re fresh. Dig in!” He moved back to the coffee table and picked up a cake, blowing out the candle and removing it. I picked up one too, did the same, and bit into it.

  It was delicious. Lara could probably join Tamara in a catering business. Two foodies and one of them a no-nonsense business strategist—perfect.

  Damon put his iPod into a dock on a side table and pressed play. Music filled the room and added to the happy mood.

  “Oh!” I could almost hear a light bulb ding above Lara’s head. “In all the excitement I forgot.” She put her cupcake down. “I meant to make us some mocktails to toast our success! I have the ingredients ready; I’ll just get them made up. I’ll be about five minutes or so!” She left the room.

  “She’s loving this,” I said.

  “She sure is.” Damon smiled. “So am I.”

  I took another bite of my cupcake, partly because it was yummy and partly because I didn’t know what to say. An unspoken question hung in the air between us: what next? He’d said he would talk to Lara after the project had been completed, but he’d also said he’d see where we were by that stage. Where were we? Were we destined to stay just friends? I felt a strong bond with him now, stronger than before the kiss, but it was a different bond. A special bond. And I didn’t want to risk losing that by letting attraction get in the way.

  Damon went to the table near the wall and switched to the next song. He stayed for a moment, listening, as though deciding whether he wanted to play that one or another one. As his back was to me, and I noticed the broad curve of his shoulders and the muscle tone of his back, I remembered something. I hadn’t yet gotten him back for the tickling at the movie night we’d had when we watched White Noise.

  I’ll get you another time, when you’re not expecting it. Watch your back.

  He wasn’t watching his back now. But I was. I tiptoed over to him as he fiddled with the music, my fingers wriggling at the ready. Music blared from the speakers and I lunged forward, tickling his ribs with gusto. “Haha, got you! Told you I would.”

  He tried to grab my hands as he laughed and squirmed. I kept tickling until he’d succeeded in capturing my hands in his. “You don’t like to break a promise, do you?” he said with a smile.

  “Nope. I’m just as dedicated as you.”

  “But you’re messier than me.”

  “Huh?”

  He removed one of his hands from mine and swiped his thumb across my top lip. “You had a bit of blue frosting stuck on you.”

  Damon held up his thumb with the frosting clumped on it. “Now what do I do with this? I can’t let go of you or you might tickle me to death.”

  I scooped up the frosting with my finger and spread it on his cheek with a giggle.

  He looked at me with a defeated expression. “You did not just do that.”

  “I totally did.”

  He wiped it off, then swiped it across my nose.

  “Hey!” When I tried to remove it, he grasped my hand so I couldn’t.

  “Now you look like Rudolph’s chilly cousin.”

  So I gave him a gentle head-butt and the frosting landed on his chin.

  “I wish you’d gone a bit higher,” he whispered.

  And as I stood there with my blue nose, looking at him with his blue chin, I wished I had too. I wished we could resume where we’d left off that day, when my mind was filled with the blissful sensations of chocolate and marshmallows and caramel fudge all at once, times a billion. When nothing else mattered except the moment, and…

  Lips.

  His lips. On mine. Again.

  Well, hello.

  His arms were around me in a flash, pulling me close. All that existed was us and the music. It was more intense than the first time, and I was glad he was holding me, as I couldn’t be sure that my legs would continue to support my body. I ran my hands through his ruffled hair, and he caressed my cheek like a precious artifact. The cupcakes had nothing on this. Some of the frosting from my nose was now on his cheek, and I was sure the frosting from his chin was now on mine too. We took a breath and, our lips still close, laughed together at the mess of frosting on our faces.

  A pattering of footsteps scurried down the hall outside. A door slammed.

  Uh-oh.

  We dashed from the room and sobs came from Lara’s room. Oh no. She’d seen us.

  I exchanged a glance with Damon and he approached her room, knocked, then entered.

  She looked up at us, her eyes red-rimmed and glossy. “I came up to ask if Serena wanted a mango or raspberry mocktail, and surprise, surprise, you two are at it again! You lied to me!” she cried.

  “No, we didn’t. We kept our promise to stay friends and get our project completed, we did that.” He placed a hand on her shoulder as she sat on the bed, her face in her hands. “But it’s over now, and I was going to talk to you, about Serena. Tonight. Before anything happened. But just then, well…” Damon looked at me, then back at his sister. “Lara, I really like her.”

  “And she likes you more than me!” Lara said. “Pretty soon you’re going to forget about me, your poor ill-fated sister, and I’m going to lose the one person who’s always stood by me!”

  I gripped my gemstone pendant, as though it might shatter with the emotion in the room.

  Damon sat on the bed in front of her. He handed her a tissue, then placed his hands on her shoulders. “No, you won’t. You’re not going to lose me, I’ll never leave you alone. We’re twins, how could I?”

  “Easy. What good is a sister when you could have a girlfriend?” She pushed his hands off her shoulders and scrunched the tissue over her eyes.

  “Lara, he’s right. You’re not going to lose him. I’m not going to take him away from you. I just want to…be around him. And both of you.”

  Damon’s eyes connected briefly with mine. He pressed his lips together and suc
ked a breath in through his nose.

  “I’m going to lose Mom, then you. And then, well, we all know what’s going to happen to me, don’t we!”

  My heart bruised with the pain she was feeling.

  “Hey,” he soothed. “You’ve still got a long life ahead of you. And I’m going to make it my mission in life to find out everything I can about this disease and do everything in my power to make a difference. Who knows what advancements will be made by the time you’re older?”

  Lara looked up at her brother, though her eyes seemed to gaze just beyond him, like she was looking into the future. Her cries flattened out to weary sobs. “Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ll probably never have what you two have. What Mom and Dad have. Or had. I’m just not girlfriend material.” She lowered her head again. “And with the Huntington’s, well, what guy in his right mind is going to want to be with me when he finds out? I just have to get used to it. I’m destined for a life of loneliness.” She raised her hands and let them fall to the bed with a dull thump. “I like being on my own; it’s not like I need someone around me all that much. But now, seeing you two…” She glanced my way. “It made me realize that I do want it. I want to be with someone someday and have them like me, or even, hell, I don’t know, love me?” Her face scrunched up and her chin trembled like she was preparing for another onslaught of tears. She ran her hands over her head and yanked out the scrunchie that was securing her ponytail. She squeezed it like a stress ball, then threw it against the wall. “But I don’t think it’s possible!” Her body shook with tears, and her cry was exactly as I had heard in my vision. Sad. Alone. Hopeless. “Anything is possible, Lara,” I said, though my words sounded lame and insignificant.

  “So is nothing.” Her tears subsided and her voice sounded different. Clearer. Resolved. Like she refused to linger in a state of inactivity. Her eyes were distant. She rose from the bed and walked swiftly from the room and down the stairs. Damon and I followed.

  “Lara, where are you going?” he asked.