Chapter 2 - A Million Rainbows

“Can I get this one?” Charlie pulled out a picture book with a stuffed bunny on the cover. It was probably better suited for a four-year-old, but this was the kind of stuff Charlie liked.

“Yeah, that looks cute. Just six though.” I tapped the seven books in her hands. She flipped through them and handed me one to discard.

We didn’t have a computer or many books at home, so Charlie and I were at the library nearly every day. I liked to read, something Charlie still struggled with, but she loved books as much as I did, and we both loved how clean and quiet the library was.

It was our little sanctuary. A place we could come and be swept away to worlds that were a little easier and a little more magical than our own.

I was picking up some books for school. My English teacher, Mrs. Ninn, gave me a recommended reading list—all classics that I wasn’t too excited about, but hey, they were classics—and I decided to make it my goal to read the full list before graduation.

The library had a limit of eight books, and Charlie and I split that two me, six her since my books were longer, and she sped through her short readers, swapping them out for new ones every day.

But on Fridays, we both forfeited a book for a DVD and had a movie night instead.

“Okay, put your book on the counter,” I said to Charlie.

I nodded hello to Mrs. Laurie, the librarian, a lady in her fifties with shoulder-length auburn hair and glasses.

Charlie pushed her book onto the counter.

“How are you girls today?” asked Mrs. Laurie as she scanned my card.

“Good, thanks.”

“Is school back in?”

I nodded.

“And what grade are you in this year, dear?” She was peering down at Charlie.

Charlie shrugged, too shy to answer.

“She has a little trouble reading, so she’s repeating first grade.” I felt the need to explain this to her since Charlie had been in first grade the last time she’d asked this question a year ago.

Mrs. Laurie smiled warmly—perhaps with a smidge of pity in her eyes, but I might have been imagining that—and proceeded to check us out.

We exited the library with our stack of books. I stopped to put them in Charlie’s backpack since her bag was nearly empty and mine was ripping at the seams.

I took Charlie’s hand, and we strolled down Main Street, stopping at the crosswalk near Dairy Queen.

Charlie’s head got stuck, magnetized to a patron’s dripping ice cream cone. Her neck twisted as far as it could, then her whole torso was turned around and she was practically walking backward.

“Not today,” I said, tugging on her hand and snapping her back.

Charlie’s favorite park was in the center of town, just behind Ellis City Hall, not very far from our apartment building. It was a big, grassy park with a soccer field, a baseball diamond, and a large, shaded playground.

It was another usual stop for us, and it was where she tried.

I hung upside down on a set of horizontal play bars. The setup came in three, and I was hanging from the tallest bar, my arms stretched out, fingertips grazing the ground, my eyes closed. Feeling lightweight and free, I breathed in the warm, soft breeze that brushed past me and cooled the sweat on my neck.

I opened my eyes to see Kyle Roberts and his friend Ryan Stevenson down the field, tossing a football. It wasn’t unusual to see kids from school here, but not usually Kyle.

Not that I cared.

But I didn’t feel so free anymore. I gripped the bar and flipped, landing in a puff of dust.

My seven-year-old sister, the one who should have been playing on the playground equipment, getting dirty and having fun, was sitting cross-legged on the grass, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes closed.

I joined her on the ground. “Any luck?” I grabbed her pink thermos and chugged some water.

She nodded, her eyes shut, her head of copper curls bouncing around.

“Really?” I was intrigued. I had learned long ago to accept Charlie and this “talent” of hers. But as hard as I tried, I didn’t fully understand it.

“Uh huh,” she said, her head still shaking in a nod.

“So tell me … is she different?”

Charlie opened her eyes. “She’s not different,” she pouted. “She’s better.”

“It might’ve just been a dream.” I knew it was futile to argue with Charlie. But hey, my mind was searching for a less unnerving explanation. Something other than this spooky, clairvoyant crap.

“It wasn’t a dream,” she said. She huffed at me and closed her eyes again.

I laughed, folding. It was pointless to argue with her.

Charlie’s belief in her abilities was iron-strong. There was nothing I or anyone else could say or do to dissuade her. It didn’t matter what I said, what reasoning or logic I used—she and her little psychic mind wouldn’t budge. She once tried to explain it to me. She said it would be like someone trying to convince me I couldn’t see. “If you can see, you can see,” she said. “No one can tell you that you can’t.”

Charlie believed she could tap into other dimensions—like for real. Like actual other realities and shit. Parallel universes. Future and past times, even. Places where all the possibilities were possible. Worlds where your biggest dreams and nightmares came true.

Ever since she could speak, from the time she was about three years old, she had these crazy stories of voices in her head, of worlds unseen, of times not yet lived. And to her, they were as real as the world we lived in.

I tucked my shoulders in and played with the grass, glancing up occasionally to watch Kyle and Ryan toss their football.

“You might have better luck communicating with this other ‘Mom’ at home, anyway,” I said, turning back to Charlie.

Charlie shook her head. “No. This Mom takes me to the park. She’s here.”

“Yeah, but she’s got to go home sometime. Maybe she left. You can try at home.”

“She doesn’t live at home.”

“She doesn’t?”

“No.”

“Where does she live then?”

“At a different house. It’s bigger,” said Charlie.

“A house? Like an actual house?”

Charlie nodded.

“Huh …” I said, that idea catching me up in a wistful dream for a second. It wasn’t the house I cared about. That wasn’t too important to me. But Mom, stable enough, having her shit together enough to get a house? It was hard to admit, but that was something a big part of me wanted.

Charlie was going to be stubborn about it, so I resigned myself to another hour at the park. I removed my library books from her bag and dragged my backpack over, unzipping it and pulling out my planner to go over my homework assignments.

“Here,” I said, handing Charlie a cherry Jell-O cup I’d saved from lunch. It was warm and melted, but she snatched it up gleefully and proceeded to slurp down the contents.

I stared with wonderment at my kid sister’s cherry-tinted smile, so easily letting a little sugar brighten her day. “So do you ever try to talk to her?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to scare her. I just wisten.” Charlie had trouble pronouncing her L’s.

I nodded, trying my best to understand, but it was impossible. I reached and playfully pinched Charlie’s side, making her laugh. “I want to know if she says anything about me, okay?”

“Okay,” giggled Charlie. She resumed her meditation posture, closing her eyes and breathing easily as she listened in on other worlds.

I opened my textbook, diving into the only world I understood.

I was deep in a math problem when I was jolted back, Kyle’s frantic voice shouting from down the field, “Incoming!”

I looked up just as the football he was trying to warn us about came hurtling at Charlie, hitting her right on the side of the head with a loud thud.

“Ow!” she cried. She folded over into her lap, tiny fingers grasping at her head.

“Ah, shit,” said Kyle, running over to us. “I’m so sorry.” He knelt in the grass in front of Charlie. “Are you okay?”

I was up, trying to pry her fingers from her hair so I could examine the damage. “Just one second. I need to see.”

She tentatively lifted her hand. There was a small bump, a bit of blood in her hair, but it didn’t look like anything to get worked up over.

“She’s okay,” I said, turning to Kyle.

He was panting and sweaty but pulling off the disheveled look with grace and ease. I marveled again at how someone could be so perfect (perfectly cute, that was, but I was trying not to linger on that thought).

“I’m so sorry, Bree,” he said, the guilt, heavy in his voice.

“It’s okay. She’s fine. Really.” Charlie was already recovering, sitting up and rubbing the spot on her head.

“I guess you can see why I didn’t make the team, huh?” Kyle ran a hand through his sandy locks. “I can’t catch for shit.”

I laughed. “Yeah, maybe you and Ryan should switch places.” Ryan was the star quarterback of the Ellis Eagles football team. He’d likely have caught it.

“Yeah,” said Kyle, lowering his head in shame.

For the second time today, this kid was letting me get under his skin, and I realized that maybe the fiercely confident, perfectly carved Kyle Roberts I had imagined in my head was a little more human.

“I was kidding, Kyle.” I was hoping to restore his ego. I preferred believing in the perfect, untouchable Kyle. As jealous as I was, there was something comforting in thinking there were people out there who had it all, who were on top of this world and were happy.

He smiled graciously and turned back to Charlie. “Look, maybe we should bring her to the hospital. Get her checked out? Just to be sure?”

I stiffened. “Oh no. That’s unnecessary.” A trip to the ER sounded expensive, and Charlie was fine. “She’s tough. She’ll be okay.”

Kyle pulled in a tense breath, a worried grimace pulling down his bottom lip, exposing great teeth, so white and straight. I was caught up wondering if he had worn braces or if his perfect smile was another God-given blessing, when he leaned into me, whispering, “Yeah, but I heard this story once where a kid died from just getting hit by a ball. It could be worse than it looks.”

“I don’t die from this,” blurted Charlie.

Kyle’s eyes widened at that declaration. He was still leaning in, and close up I could see they were hazel, a smoky mix of topaz and green.

“What?” asked Kyle, looking between me and Charlie, a cute smirk, dimpling one cheek.

I kicked my foot out, purposely pushing my sneaker into Charlie’s thigh.

Charlie wriggled away from me. She locked gazes with Kyle. “I don’t die today,” she said matter-of-factly. Her big blue eyes, unflinching.

He laughed, confusion and curiosity tight in his brow. “Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to die. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“I know, but …” Kyle turned to me, seeking help.

“She is,” I said.

“Yeah, but …” he tried again, obviously hesitant to let it go.

“Look, Kyle, if she dies, we’ll just tell them Ryan did it. He’s the one standing over there by himself not apologizing for anything.”

Kyle turned, glancing over his shoulder. “Yeah, that asshole.” He shook his head at Ryan. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am.” I just wanted him to go before Charlie started talking again. What the hell had gotten into her, anyway? She was usually so quiet around strangers.

“Okay,” said Kyle, tapping the ground with his fist. He was about to get up, and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but he stopped and picked up the copy of The Catcher in the Rye I had gotten at the library. “What class is this for?”

“Oh, it’s just extra reading for Mrs. Ninn.”

“Extra reading? Why would you do that to yourself?” The puzzled look on his face was cute … his nose and chin, all wrinkly.

I shrugged. “I like to read.”

He glanced at my textbooks. “Man, Dover, how many AP classes are you taking?”

I shifted uncomfortably. This kind of attention was unusual for me and coming from Kyle, it was unprecedented. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

I swallowed nervously. “Um … just three this semester.”

He looked me over, his smile impressed. “So where are you going to college?”

“BU. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“That’s Boston, right?”

“Yeah, I want to stay kind of close to Charlie.” I didn’t know why I was telling him that.

“Who’s Charlie? Your boyfriend?”

“Ah, no …” I pointed at Charlie. “Charlotte. Charlie,” I explained.

He nodded, throwing a glance at Charlie, who was being weird again.

She was sitting in a full-on meditation posture, her eyes closed, forgetting the world around her. Forgetting that Kyle—I wanted to scream at her—was right here!

“What is she doing?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing … just ignore her.” I glowered at Charlie.

“I’m listening to my mom,” said Charlie, her eyes still closed.

My head fell forward, and I had to stop myself from kicking her again.

“Your mom?” Kyle’s face was now a barrage of questions, a funny smile pulling on his lips. He lifted on his knees, craning around both sides of Charlie like he was looking for something. “I don’t see any Bluetooth on you. How are you talking to your mom?”

Charlie offered him a silent shrug, and I was glad for it. She was too comfortable around this kid. I needed to cut in, cut this conversation off before she started rambling.

“She’s just playing around, Kyle.”

“No, I’m not.” Charlie opened her eyes, her Jell-O-red lips frowning. “She was just here. She asked me if I wanted ice cream, so I think she left, but she was.”

“No, she wasn’t,” I hissed.

“Yeah, huh,” said Charlie.

“Why didn’t you go get ice cream with her then?” asked Kyle.

“I did.”

“But you’re here.”

“Yeah.” Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “I’m here. That Charlie got to go, though.”

“That Charlie?” Kyle’s eyes widened. “So what? Like an alternate reality version of you?”

Charlie shrugged. “I think so.”

Kyle’s face brightened, a big smile pulling his dimples deep. “So what, is she like a psychic or something?” He turned to me, a glint of excitement playing in his eyes, catching me off guard.

“Ah … no,” I said, not sure if I was reading him right. Maybe he would be open to the truth, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to say anything.

He narrowed his gaze suspiciously, not believing me.

I pulled my shoulders into a defeated shrug. “She thinks she is. Something like that, anyway.” I knew Charlie didn’t just think she was, but that’s as much as I was willing to say.

Kyle’s smile widened. “Holy shit, that’s awesome.”

My shoulders eased. “So you believe in this stuff?”

“Oh my god, yeah. Totally. I love it. You should see me. I’ll go deep down the internet rabbit hole with this supernatural shit. I eat it up.” Kyle’s whole body lifted with excitement. “Oh my god, I’ve got the coolest story, and you guys might actually believe me.”

He tapped my dingy sneakers beside him and sat down, crossing his legs, and going right into his story. “Okay, so this happened last year. I was home alone, getting a snack in the kitchen. It was this awesome seven-layer dip with cheese and beans and salsa and olives and …”

I stared, amazed, as Kyle continued to go over every last ingredient of his special dip, wondering how he had gotten so off track so fast.

“The dip was really good,” he said, seeing my confusion. “I’ll have to give you the recipe.” He hit my sneakers again. “Anyway … I’m in the kitchen, and the TV in the game room upstairs blasts on. A space documentary, with a posh British guy narrator, blares down the hall.

“Now, I had just hooked our house up with one of those Bluetooth gadget things. You know, the ones with Alexa and shit? So I’m thinking it’s just the tech glitching out. So I just brush it off, you know? Don’t think a thing of it.

“Anyway, I take my bowl of delicious, gooey, cheesy dip”—he sent a playful wink my way—“upstairs to play some Call of Duty. I walk into the room and standing right there in front of the TV is …” Kyle stopped for a second, rethinking something. “It was a man … just standing there.

“But I’m not scared. It’s not an intruder. I know that right away. I just get this weird sensation all up and down my body—like that pins and needles feeling you get when your foot goes to sleep—and I know something’s off.

“Then the man turns around, looks at me. Straight in the eyes. He walks up to me, then he keeps going … and passes through me. He walked right through me! It was a ghost! A fu—” He stopped himself from throwing the F-bomb in front of Charlie, “a freakin’ ghost.”

Kyle raised both hands, finishing his story. “Swear to God. Oh, and get this … the TV wasn’t even on. Screen was black. The space doc I heard—not even playing.”

He paused on me, waiting for my response.

“So what happened to the dip?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought the dip was going to come into the story again. Like you were going to drop it or something?”

“No, I ate the dip.” He smiled. “It was delicious.” He looked at us expectantly. “You guys believe me, though, don’t you?”

I did believe him. Because of Charlie, I believed all this spooky ghost crap, and Kyle looked eager for me to say yes.

I nodded.

“I believe you,” said Charlie. “But it wasn’t a ghost. Ghosts aren’t real.”

“But I thought …” Kyle let that question fade. “So you can’t talk to ghosts?”

Charlie shook her head.

There was a marked sadness that washed over Kyle, his whole demeanor deflating. “Ah … it was probably stupid, anyway.”

“What?” asked Charlie.

“Oh, I just thought maybe you could try to talk to him?”

“I can try. He isn’t a ghost, but I can still try and talk to him.”

“But the guy I saw is dead.” Kyle averted his eyes, letting them fall to the ground.

“That one of him isn’t,” said Charlie. “If you saw him.”

Kyle brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yo, Kyle!” We all turned our heads to Ryan, who was calling from down the field. “Come on, man!”

Kyle hesitated, pausing on Charlie and me, his shoulders slumped like he wanted to stay. “He’s giving me a ride,” he explained, his dispirited tone making me question everything about my existence. What strange reality had I found myself in, one where Kyle Roberts talked to me, where Kyle Roberts wanted to keep talking to me?

He turned a wide smile to me, showcasing two rows of perfect teeth. “The Escalade. Remember, Dover? You and me.” He paused on me, pointing a finger between us. “Twice in one day? Kind of weird, eh? Small world and stuff?”

“Small town,” I reminded him, but I was definitely questioning things.

He eyed me for a second, squinting thoughtfully. “I don’t know about that. Seems like the universe might have some plans for us.”

“It does,” blurted Charlie.

Kyle and I both looked at her. My look was a sneer, Kyle’s was a smirk.

A bigger smile stretched on his face, but he didn’t say anything. He got up and snatched the football from the grass. He gripped it in both hands. “I’m going to go and see if I can’t pelt Ryan with this. Get him back for you, Pumpkin Patch.”

Charlie giggled at the nickname he had given her.

“Don’t kill yourself for us,” I warned, thinking Ryan might just catch it and pelt it back.

Kyle looked to Charlie. “Do I die today?”

She shook her head, smiling big, her copper curls bouncing around her like a cheerleader’s pom-pom.

“Perfect,” said Kyle. He sprinted after Ryan and called back over his shoulder, “Catch you later, Dover!”