Dying to Remember (The Station #2) Read online

  "This is beautiful," he says.

  I blink twice. Beautiful?

  He laughs softly, "The fountain…its beautiful. I've never seen one like it."

  Oh, right. I'm such a dork.

  I nod, unable to speak since my voice has run away again. I watch him drag his fingers through the cool water, knowing very well how therapeutic the fountain is. I can't believe he's here. Sitting next to me. Sitting right next to me. So close I could reach out and touch him.

  "What happened, Sloan?" I chew on my lower lip as his hand stills in the water suddenly.

  "Can I ask you something?" he asks without looking up at me.

  "Of course, anything."

  "From what I understand, you know everything about me. The good…and the bad." He finally looks up at me and our eyes lock, exchanging silent information through our gaze. I simply nod at him.

  "Okay. Well, it's weird you know, having someone else inside my head."

  I laugh so loud it makes him jump. "Believe me, I said the same thing to my Volunteer."

  "You've met your Volunteer too?" He seems shocked.

  "Yeah, but it was under totally different circumstances. I had no idea who she was; my Intake Specialist introduced us. I didn't know what to think of her when we met."

  "They told me it was a mistake when you were brought back here, that you probably should have stayed. Well, obviously you should have stayed," he says while slowly scanning my face.

  "I am so sorry, Sloan."

  I reach out to touch him, but I can't do it. Not yet, so I let my hand fall between us instead, onto the cool tile of the fountain rim.

  "It's not your fault," he says quietly.

  "It was my job, though. And I failed at it." I'm trying not to cry, so I look away from him.

  "No, you didn't. I remember how empty I felt when you were gone. It's like…I don't know…it was like a light just went out inside me. I couldn't handle anything on my own. That wasn't your fault; it was mine," he pauses to nudge my leg softly with his knuckles before continuing, "I think I missed you."

  I feel the breath stop in my throat as I bite down on my lower lip again. Please don't make me look at you, Sloan…or I'll burst into tears.

  He sighs deeply while moving his hand away from my leg. While the air leaks slowly out of the tiny pathway my throat has become, I silently count to ten before speaking.

  "I missed you too. But I have to admit, I didn't want to see you here."

  "When did you first get my case?" he asks, staring at me intently.

  "Uh. It was right after…you know, right after you bought the gun."

  "Oh. Okay. Yeah, you told me to get rid of it, didn't you?" His blue eyes bore into mine. I nod.

  "I didn't," he says flatly.

  The implication of his statement twists around in my gut until I'm sure I'll hurl my stomach lining onto his lap. I can't stop the tears now and they begin filling my eyes until the Station becomes only a white blur around me.

  "Piper, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Sloan is leaning toward me, with his warm hand on my back, gently squeezing my shoulders.

  Embarrassed, I flatten the heels of my hands against my eyes until the tears stop. Great, now you look like a baby, Piper. Good going.

  "I'm sorry…I just…I didn't want this for you," I say weakly.

  "It's okay, really," he says.

  "It's not okay! At all," I almost spit the words out, causing Sloan to flinch.

  "Crap. I'm sorry, I just thought everything would work out, you know?"

  He nods and looks up in time to see a boy about our age walk by with his head hung low. His pajama pants drag on the floor, threatening to catch on his heels with each step. The boy never looks at us, just follows the subtle curve of the massive fountain until he's almost out of sight. Eventually he slumps down to the ground, using the rim of the fountain as a back-rest. The lost look on his face is one I recognize. He's a new arrival, for sure.

  I suddenly hate this place. I hate that we are forced to live with the guilt of killing ourselves. I hate that we are forced to remember what we lost, what we just threw away. And I hate that we are forced to live with the guilt of failing our Assignments. It's not fair. I'm angrily staring off into the white nothingness of the Station 'sky' when Sloan reminds me of what we were talking about.

  "My Dad died," he says quietly. I turn to look at him while he shifts his gaze back to the refreshing water of the fountain.

  "I'm sorry, Sloan," I say.

  "Stop saying you're sorry. None of this is your fault, okay?" He splashes at the water and I allow a smile to tug at the corner of my mouth.

  "Okay, sorry," I say deliberately, and we both quietly laugh. "So, is that why you…you know?"

  "No. Well, I'm sure it was a part of it," he stops to look around us before nervously running his hand through his hair.

  "It's okay, I've already been in your head, remember?" I try and smile confidently at him.

  "Right. But it's still embarrassing, talking to you about my sex life and stuff."

  "Oh."

  "I mean is it even something you want to hear about?" He looks at me expectantly and I can tell he doesn't want me to say 'no', though every fiber of my being wants to rip my ears off my head at this very moment and sit on them so I don't hear about him having sex with Sandy. Instead, I give him my best smile and nod my head until he continues.

  "Alright, well. There was Sandy, but I guess you already know about that. Anyway, I was dodging some calls from my Doctor for weeks. I honestly didn't think they had anything to tell me that I didn't already know," he pauses, waiting for me to encourage him to continue, "I guess I just ignored them, hoping they would stop calling, you know? Well, they didn't. Eventually I picked up the phone and…shit."

  "And…what?"

  He takes a deep breath, and looks around us once more. "Piper, I was HIV positive. And Sandy and I…the first time we you know, well I didn't use anything."

  I blink at him. He blinks back at me before hanging his head so low his chin almost touches the grey collar of his t-shirt. Now it's his turn to nibble on his lower lip.

  "Oh my God, Sloan."

  "Yeah," he says back.

  "Did she…?"

  "Yeah," he answers.

  Crap. Double, triple crap.

  "When she told me she was positive, I don't know. I guess I just lost it. How could I do that to her…to Gabe?" His eyes are swimming with emotion and now I have to touch him. He lets me hold him while he cries quietly into my shoulder. With one hand I stroke the soft curls of his dark hair, breathing him in deeply while struggling to keep my voice calm and reassuring.

  "It's okay now, Sloan. You'll see, it'll be fine, I promise." I hope.

  Sloan is still leaning on my shoulder when I see a familiar pair of brown loafers standing to my right. I look up to see Niles with an expression somewhere between sympathy and understanding spread out on his face like a mask.

  He speaks gently so as not to startle Sloan, "I thought I might find the two of you here."

  ***

  We pull away from each other as if zapped by an electrical current. I'm not sure if he pushes away so suddenly because the intimate moment was interrupted or because he realizes he was crying on my shoulder.

  "Hi Niles," I say without making eye contact.

  "Hello Piper. Mr. Nash," Niles greets us with a nod in Sloan's direction.

  "Have you met my Intake Specialist, Sloan? Formally, I mean?"

  "Um, yeah. We've met," he says while slowly standing.

  "Of course, I guess I've missed a few things," I say dryly.

  Niles smiles warmly at me and for a moment I feel a pang of guilt for throwing insinuations so loosely into the space between us. Eventually I stand too, uncomfortable being lower than the two men.

  "Piper, I came to talk. Can I borrow you?" Niles asks.

  "Sure. Unless of course you plan on banishing me from the Station, at which case I'll just stay here, if you d
on't mind," I say with a joking wave of my hand.

  When Niles doesn't answer me, I blanch. Perhaps he has come to banish me.

  "You can stay here, I'll go," Sloan says before turning and walking away.

  No goodbye? Just walk away and leave me to suffer at the hands of the Powers That Be? Lovely.

  "Sorry to scare him off. That wasn't my intention," Niles sits down on the edge of the fountain seat with a soft sigh.

  "I don't think it was you, don't worry about it," I say as I take a seat next to him. The cool water bubbles behind me as it flows by its own current around the bowl of the fountain. I wonder briefly if I would get into trouble if I jumped in.

  "It sure is enticing, isn't it?"

  "What?" I'm caught off guard by the question.

  "The water…it has a pull; an emotional beckoning. I feel it every time I'm near the fountain too," he says softly while his eyes watch the slowly churning water with love.

  "I guess so," I say with an indifferent shrug.

  He laughs; a gentle and breathy sound as he dips one finger into the fountain then flicks the dripping water at me.

  "Hey," I say, struggling not to laugh or smile.

  I feel like being moody. Can't you let me wallow for five minutes? Another cold droplet of water lands on my forehead, then dribbles slowly into my eyebrow. I guess not.

  "Okay fine. I get it, you can stop now," I say with a grin twitching the corners of my mouth upward.

  "It will take him time, dear; to understand his place here and make friends."

  "Friends? We're talking about the same Sloan Nash, right? He's a wallflower," I chuff.

  "Yes, that may be true, but even the most stubborn of the bunch can make friends…look at you and Mallory, and Kerry-Anne. You could easily be a wallflower, but you chose to make friends."

  "Like you and Edith?" The question is out of my mouth before I realize I'm actually saying it out loud. I open my mouth to apologize but Niles begins laughing so hard his cheeks brighten.

  "Piper, when you've been here as long as Edith and myself, your own friendships may change as well," he says with a wink.

  "Right. Speaking of Kerry-Anne, where is she? I feel like I haven't seen her in ages," I ask, desperate to change the subject of Niles and his near-closet love life with Edith.

  "I'm sure she's on a case. But you know I'll send her your way when she gets back."

  "Thanks, I'm sure she'll flip out when she hears about Sloan," I pause to see Niles scanning the slowly moving crowd around the Consignment building, "I guess because he's still here, he chose to become a Volunteer?"

  "He has. Though I think it may be some time before he's ready for his first case," he answers.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Dear, he will work out his issues in training, just like you did."

  "Is that what he's doing right now, training?"

  "Piper, you should know better than to ask me about another Volunteer."

  Feeling chastised, I glance away and chew on the inside of my cheek as Niles slowly stands and uses both hands to smooth out the front of his sweater vest. Part of his shirt sticks out the back, giving him a slight 'tail' and I look away, afraid to giggle.

  "But…" he says over his shoulder as he starts moving away from me, "I think Mr. Nash might be easy to find somewhere around the Training building. Now, run along, back to Ones and be useful," he says with a grin. I smile at his back, watching as he easily merges into the crowd around the Admissions Department. It only takes seconds before I lose sight of his grey hair.

  With just one more dip of my fingers into the refreshing fountain water, I consider its purpose at the Station. For now, I'm content to simply have it as a meeting ground that I share with my friends. But in the back of my mind, something nags at me; more questions revolve around the Station than answers. One day, one day soon, I will get the courage to demand them.

  Until then I'll dip my hand in the water.

  I watch the pearly ground with curiosity as I slowly make my way back to the Ones building. Normally I don't stare down at my feet when I walk, but now that I do, I notice the ground changes slightly after my feet touch it. There's a response beneath the glassy surface, a subtle shift in pigment with each step. Just like the walls, it seems the floor is an organic element that responds to stimuli. Even though it's fascinating, I'm frustrated because I don't know what substance could cause such a reaction.

  I really should have paid better attention in Science class.

  CHAPTER 4

  Absolutely nothing in the Ones building holds my interest for more than a few seconds after I return from my emotional visit with Sloan. All I want is to find him again and talk to him. Right, you want to touch him again. Okay, maybe that too. I desperately try to push that thought out of my mind but it lingers so close to the surface that eventually it's all I can think about. I envision holding his hand…with his fingers tightly entwined with mine.

  There's also the distracting clean smell of his skin that reminds me of the ocean. And the soft feel of his t-shirt with the slightly frayed collar that he used to sleep in. Stop it. Just stop.

  I sigh heavily while I walk another boy about twelve, down the long and wide hall, distracted by my wandering thoughts and the sounds of our bare feet padding softly along the ground. We've passed the half-way point before I even realize he's crying. After I stop abruptly and blink down at his small form, I realize that his shoulders are lifting and falling with each quiet sob.

  Even after kneeling down in front of him he won't look at me. Instead he swipes his hand across his face, streaking snotty tears from one cheek to the other.

  "Hey, buddy. Look, it'll be okay," I say with my voice as soft as I can make it, "I mean that you know; you will be fine. They are going to take very good care of you over there, okay?"

  He shakes his head from side to side hard enough to toss his hair. When he looks up his eyes are still leaking tears. "That's not why I'm crying," he says barely over a whisper.

  "Okay, wanna talk about it?"

  The young boy plops down on the ground in front of me with a defeated look on his narrow face, so I copy his posture and sit with my legs bent and crossed in between us. I wait for him to glance up before nodding.

  "I miss River," his voice cracks on the name.

  "Who's River?" Another swipe of his small hand smears snot up the side of his nose and I bite the inside of my lip to keep from grimacing.

  "River's my dog. I miss him." More tears. More snot. So gross.

  "Oh. He's…at home still?" I ask, not sure of how to word my question. The young boy simply nods and leans over his leg to pick at one of his toenails. "Maybe you'll see River again."

  He perks up instantly, and stares at me with wide, brown eyes. "Really, you think so?"

  "Why not?" I smile and tug the lower part of his shirt up to wipe his face clean. "We can't have you crossing over with a messy face, now can we?"

  As I use the inside of his shirt to clean his face, his cheeks turn a rosy pink. I'm sure he's embarrassed but I don't blame him for being emotional. At times I want to sit down on the floor and cry for what I left behind too. Be it my favorite teddy bear that I had since I was three, or my Dad. That was the hardest part of the Station, living with the guilt and loss. And the memories were already starting to fade. Eventually, I wondered how much I would remember.

  I hug the boy close to me as we finish our walk down the hall, pausing momentarily before opening the door for him. With a big smile on his face, he tucks his pointy chin against my side as he gives me a final squeeze and I leave him with these words, "If he can, River will find you again, you'll see. Now go and enjoy what's next."

  Light as bright as the sun makes me squint as he passes through the door into a realm beyond the Station, never to return again. I hope River is on the other side, waiting for him.

  ***

  It seems like a lot of time passes before I see any of my friends or even Niles again. I'm so set into
my new routine that I have seen dozens of children come into and then pass out of the Station and hardly a moment goes by that I'm not focused on them. The little boy with the dog flipped a switch in me. These children need my undivided attention, even if I'm just the hall monitor. So I give it to them. We form relationships in the short minute-walk across the Ones building. But they are friendships that will last in my heart forever.

  I'm sitting on the ground of the playroom with three boys and two girls, waiting for the youngest boy to reach me and pat my head with a 'duck' or 'goose' when the door opens and Mallory smiles at me from the foyer. I see the flit of yellow fabric behind her and recognize it instantly. I'm on my feet, kissing the top of the bewildered boy who has his hand resting on the girl I was sitting next to, and I'm through the door before Laney has a chance to take her hand off the knob.

  After wiggling through the partially blocked doorway, I step into the foyer to see Kerry-Anne, who all but throws herself into my arms immediately. It's funny, every time I see her I expect her to look older. But that won't happen here, of course. Kerry-Anne will be fifteen forever. And Mallory, like me, will never age beyond eighteen.

  "Hey, I've missed you," I say with a laugh as Kerry-Anne bounces on her toes with excitement. She lets go only long enough for Mallory to move in for a quick hug.

  "We keep missing each other, so I came here as soon as I bumped into Mallory. She told me you're working here," Kerry-Anne has a look of awe on her face as she visually takes in the room and its meager details. It's the walls that draw all the attention. The room is devoid of furniture; the only thing of substance being the admission counter in the center of the room, so the space seems larger than it really is.

  "The poor girl practically ran here when I told her about your new job," Mallory says with a smile.

  "Well, it's temporary, but fun," I say.

  Laney steps into the foyer and ushers us toward the door with her arms stretched out wide, "Go on, and go take a break. We will be here when you come back," she says as she gives us a gentle shove out the front door.