Body and Soul

Oh, no.

I raced forward, ignoring my ribs, my brain shouting at me to hurry, even though some part of me knew it was already too late. Whatever had happened had happened. And there was nothing I could do to change it.

I slipped in the dead leaves and half slid, half fell into place next to her.

Gathering her up in my arms, I caught the overwhelming scent of beer, but also the fainter scent of the sweet-smelling shampoo she used, both as Ally and Alona. Lily’s body was still breathing, I could tell, but there were no signs of life other than that. Alona was gone, and it was over.

So…that was it. Tears spilled down my cheeks, warm, wet, and stinging my various cuts and scrapes, but I didn’t care.

I lifted her up, holding her closer, her face pressed against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have been here. I didn’t mean for you to be alone.…”

“You know, I went to a lot of trouble to stick around,” she said quietly, her voice muffled against me.

I jumped a little at the sound, and then started to laugh and cry at the same time, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop. “You’re here.”

“It would be nice if you didn’t suffocate me right away,” she continued, sounding exhausted.

I tipped her head away from my shoulder, so I could see her face. “Are you okay?”

“Tired. Really tired, but okay. Nothing a gallon of mouthwash and a full decontamination shower won’t fix.”

She lifted her head slowly, like it was an effort, and it probably was. I kept my hand behind her neck to help support it.

She touched my cheek gently, and I winced. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Ben was feeling artistic. Wanted to rearrange my face.” I searched her eyes, looking for signs that she was as okay as she claimed to be. Lipstick was still smeared across her mouth, and I used the side of my thumb to rub it away. She’d hate it as soon as she saw it was messed up.

She smiled. “Fu

“What’s that?”

“You look good in bloodred, too, I guess.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, you’re a riot.”

“I try,” she said with a modest shrug.

Then it was all too much, and her eyes went bright and shiny with tears, and she looked away. “I thought…” she began in a trembling voice.

“I know.” I held her tighter, ignoring the pain in my ribs and various bumps and bruises. None of that seemed important at the moment.

“The light,” I said. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could have gone. It was giving me the choice. Like last time.”

That was news to me, and, dim as it was here in the woods, there must have been enough light for her to read that in my expression.

“Yeah, I didn’t know, either,” she said, looking down. “Didn’t remember. Not until it was here and I was on the edges of it.”

“You didn’t stay for me.” I hesitated. “Did you?” As flattering as that would be, I didn’t want it on my conscience.

She laughed, actually snorted. “Please. Who do you think I am?” She sat up straighter, seeming to grow stronger the longer we sat here. “I stayed because I could,” she said simply. “Because I could have been done, but I don’t think I am. Not yet.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but right now, I didn’t care. She was here.

“But,” she said, carefully avoiding my gaze, “your continued presence may have been a perk that I considered.”

I tucked her hair behind her shoulder, where it wouldn’t stay because of her new haircut. “I think, uh, I might be in love with you,” I said, my voice sounding gruff and awkward even to my own ears. Strange after everything we’d been through together that this would be so difficult to say, but it was. I couldn’t even look at her, focused instead on that errant strand of hair. “Is that going to be a problem?” I asked stiffly when she didn’t respond.

She laughed. “Probably. Probably lots of problems. But”—she put her hands on my shoulders when I tried to pull away—“we’ll figure them out. I’m not going anywhere.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tightly.

It would take more time and patience for her to get to the point where she was comfortable enough to saythat she loved me, but I knew in that moment that she did.

I leaned back to look at her, seeing only her, this girl who was Ally but also Alona, and who bore a resemblance to a friend I’d once had but was someone new. Someone I could live without, but didn’t want to.

I eased closer, drawn in by the desire to cement this moment in reality, in touch and taste.

She pulled away slightly, her hand covering her mouth like she had garlic breath. “Do you have any idea who Erin was kissing?”

“Yeah, so we’ll brush our teeth really, really thoroughly afterward,” I said, bumping her nose with mine gently. I wasn’t going to let anyonespoil this moment.

She lowered her hand slightly. “And burn our toothbrushes?” she persisted.

“I’ll buy you a case of new ones,” I promised, my lips moving against her cheek.

She nodded and lowered her hand the rest of the way.

I brushed my mouth against hers. She shivered, and her hands swept up to touch my hair and urge me closer. They were chaste kisses, in deference to the night we’d both had, but electric in their potential. I could feel the future in them. A future I never thought I’d have, and one I wanted more than anything.

Will was waiting for me in the pickup/drop-off area in front of school when I walked out at the end of my first day. At the sight of him, I stopped dead, blinking in the super-bright afternoon sun, not sure if I was seeing what I wanted or what was actually there.

It had been two weeks since I’d last seen him. When Will brought me home to the very worried, very angry Turners, I’d explained that he’d tracked me down at a party and driven me home. They were doubtful, but I insisted, and they eventually thanked him, albeit reluctantly.

Then they’d taken turns hugging me until I couldn’t breathe…and grounded me for a freaking month. No visitors, no phone, and no INTERNET.

Fun.

It had almost been enough to make me look forward to going back to school. Actually, no. It hadn’t.

Will had kept his distance for the last couple of weeks—trying to respect the Turners’ wishes, he’d said, on the few whispered phone calls I’d managed to make.

Okay, yeah, fine, I got it, but I missed him—more than I was willing to admit. And it was enough to make me start worrying. We’d already been through more than two people should go through in multiplelifetimes, which was not surprising, considering the circumstances. What if, after time to think away from the heat of the moment, he’d reconsidered?

I wasn’t sure I could blame him. It wouldn’t change my choice to stay as Ally—it couldn’t, really, anyway—but it would hurt. A lot.

So I’d been obsessing on what I would say, how I would play it—particularly with the other item I had on my agenda—when I saw him again, not expecting it to be for another couple of weeks. Which was why I wondered, upon seeing him waiting for me outside school, if he were a figment of my imagination.

But he didn’t shimmer into nothingness or morph into someone else. It was definitely Will. He was leaning against the Dodge, his hands in his pockets, watching everyone warily, as though expecting someone to proclaim there’d been a mistake and try to drag him back into the building.

I started toward him, and when he saw me, his tension seemed to ease, and he straightened up with a smile that made my heart—yes, mine, because it wasfor all intents and purposes now, even if I hadn’t been born with it, and making further distinctions at this point seemed ridiculous—give an extra-hard thump.

I had to check the urge to run at him. First, because ru