Free A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark) by Jocelyn Davies

waking up in the cabin had melted away, replaced with a determined energy. I was back in River Springs, and I had things to do. I had to face my life again.
    I reached for my jeans but hesitated. Remembering how ready-for-anything I’d felt the night of Cassie’s show at the Bean, I pulled on an off-the-shoulder sweater dress, tights, and motorcycle boots. A little blush, some mascara, tinted lip balm, a necklace or three, and a scarf, and I was good to go. My eyes blazed silver in the mirror. I didn’t even worry that they might not be normal again by the time I made it to my car. Somehow I knew they would be. I had to start trusting myself.
    If I was going back to school, nobody was going to mess with me today.
    “Whoa,” Aunt Jo said as I stomped through the kitchen in my heavy boots. “What did you do with Skye? And are those my boots?”
    “I’m practicing mind-body consciousness,” I said, biting into a toaster strudel. “Look the part, act the part.”
    “Just be nice to your teachers.” She tried to hide a smirk as she refilled her coffee mug.
    “I am affronted!” I yelled, heading to the hall and zipping up my parka. “I am always nice!”
    “Well, be extra nice today,” she called after me. “Offer to do extra credit or something. Get yourself back on track.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled. “See you later.” I hesitated in the doorway, remembering what it had felt like to come home to an empty house for weeks on end. “You’ll be home, right?”
    “For sure I’ll be here. And you’re coming home right after school.”
    “Got it,” I said. “Love you!”
    “Ask the next time you borrow my things!” she called after me.
     
    Oh, how I’d missed my car. The way it hugged the curves of the mountain roads. The way the piercing cold wind whipped at my hair. I always kept my windows open, even in the most freezing temperatures. Maybe because it made me think of skiing.
    Or maybe flying.
    I was early, but I wasn’t going right to school. I was going to pick up my best friend.
    The closer I got to Cassie’s house, though, the more nervous I grew. What if she thought I had abandoned her? What if she never wanted to see me again? Suddenly, even though I felt sort of guilty for thinking it, the idea of Cassie hating me forever was so much worse than the thought of her dying.
    I pulled around a tight bend and the grayish white side of her house came into view. The front yard had the same slightly askew, lived-in vibe it always had. Toy trucks and an overturned bucket of little green soldiers littered the frosted ground. As I parked alongside the curb, I noticed that the car parked directly in front of mine belonged to Dan. My heart beat double time. I hadn’t expected to find Dan here, too. I was hoping to have my reunions one at a time, in bite-size pieces.
    Oh, well , I thought. Here goes nothing.
    Good thing I’d worn my tough-girl boots.
    The breeze was unseasonably warm today, the morning sky clear and bright, and even though it was still winter, I had a feeling I knew where to find them. Instead of ringing the front doorbell, I walked around through the side gate to the backyard.
    Cassie and Dan were sitting side by side on the swing set with their backs to me. Dan was holding her hand, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. She giggled and swatted at him stiffly. Suddenly I panicked. They didn’t want to see me. Why would they? Whether I meant to or not, I had abandoned Cassie, and now there was no room for me in her life. She had Dan.
    I took a deep breath.
    “I better not feel like the third wheel all the time, now that you guys are couple of the year,” I said loudly. Dan whipped around so fast he almost fell off the swing.
    “Skye! Holy crap, really?” He bounded over to me, grabbed me off my feet in a huge bear hug, and twirled me around.
    “Ow.” I choked. “You don’t know your own strength.”
    “Sorry,” he said, putting me down gently. “It’s just—you’re