1st 5 Pages Oct Workshop - Simon Rev 2

Name: Kelsey Simon

Genre: Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy

Title: The Guilt of Healing

Pitch:

Sixteen-year-old Clay thinks it’s probably a good thing he’s not one of the rare people in the world blessed with the ability to heal. His best friend, Nicco, already pulls enough crazy stunts without a healer around.

Ever since Clay accidentally shot Nicco and almost took his life, his friend has chased after every adrenaline rush he can, often putting himself in danger―and Clay feels obligated to always be there to pick him up. Clay wants Nicco to be safe, but deep down, he also wants to be free from the guilt he feels. Maybe even free of Nicco. 

When a classmate healer fixes Nicco’s ankle after he jumps from a balcony, Clay is relieved. That’s one less trip he has to make to the ER. But the rush Nicco gets from being healed is his new obsession, and he starts throwing himself into more dangerous situations―situations that put Clay in danger too. Clay has to decide how far he’s willing to go, and just how much Nicco’s friendship―and his guilt―matter to him. Him and Nicco have been a duo for as long as he can remember, but if he sticks by Nicco’s side, he might just find himself arrested, or worse, hospitalized.  

1

Nicco leans out over the second-story balcony as far as he can. The gray of late evening spans out before us, the waters of the bay as dark as ink on the right. Below, a large pool rests in the center of a well maintained backyard, the whole area swarming with kids and booming with music.

“I could make it into the water,” Nicco says, eyeing the drop from the balcony to the pool. “It’s not a big jump.”

I clench my jaw and force back a sigh. When Nicco slammed my locker shut and told me we had plans tonight, I said what I always say―I’m in. Being with him is the best way to make sure he doesn’t do something crazy―like jumping from a second story balcony and into the shallow end of a pool. 

“Come on,” I say from my spot a few feet behind him. “You’ll get hurt.”

The kids below us have started to notice Nicco and turn to stare. Each set of eyes is one more reason he won’t back down.

“Why don’t you get down and have another drink,” I say, bargaining. That’s always the first step when Nicco gets a hunger like this one. Bargain first, argue second, get physical third, if the situation is desperate enough to warrant it. The two girls he’d been flirting with earlier whisper to each other behind me. One lifts her phone, obviously framing Nicco with her camera. He gives her a casual thumbs up, his grin wide.

I refrain from rolling my eyes.

“Oh, you come on, Clay. It’ll be easy.” His eyes widen as he turns to stare down at the pool and the challenge I know he’s contemplating. He’s probably imagining it―the drop down and all the eyes that would be on him as he fell.

“And if you get hurt?” I say, because that’s what I’m really worried about anyway. Nicco can drag me to a party two hours from home. He can leave me feeling awkward as I stumble through a conversation with a pretty girl I’ve never met before. He can even drink himself into a buzz while I stand sober, the designated driver. But him jumping from a second-story balcony for a few seconds of adrenaline and fame? That’s likely to leave him with a broken bone or worse? I can’t stand idly by.

“Well, at least there’s a healer here,” Nicco answers, pointing.

“What?” I step forward, joining him at the railing, following his finger to a girl standing at the front of the pool. “Is that Lacey Stephens?”

She’s tall, her hair the same rich brown as I remember it, just a few shades lighter than her skin. Not much has visibly changed about her, but she seems to stand taller. We had pre-calc together that year, but then she’d discovered she had the rare ability to heal, and left to attend Kisper High, the boroughs school just for healers.

“I’m sure if I hurt, she’ll heal me,” Nicco says, shrugging.

She pushes past a dancing couple, and just when she’s about to disappear beneath the balcony where we won’t be able to see her, her eyes flash up and lock onto us.

I jerk back. “That’s a stupid assumption,” I hiss. We don’t know Lacey, certainly not well enough to ask for a healing. Besides, who knew what she could heal, or how much or how fast. There were rules about those sorts of things, rules neither Nicco or I knew.

“I’m doing it,” Nicco whispers under his breath before he leans forward and shouts, “Do you dare me to jump?!”

“Don’t,” I say, stepping toward him but Nicco is already climbing the railing. He’s probably sees Lacey being here as a sign. “She’s not going to heal you if you get hurt. They’ll just call an ambulance,” I try to reason. I know he can’t afford an ambulance. His family doesn’t have health insurance like mine.

“It’ll be fine.” He glances at me over his shoulder, the muscle in his left cheek twitching and his eyes shifting side to side. He’s already feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins. He won’t back down. Not now.

Any whisper of the bay’s waves crashing into the nearby is completely drowned out in the chant of everyone below. Their words soar around us. “Do it! Do it!” It grows louder and louder as more and more kids pick up the chant. Everyone’s watching Nicco now, some even raising their drinks to the sky, cheering him on.

This is what he lives for. The attention, the rush. It’s probably not even worth me trying to stop him, but I’ll give it one more try. It’s why I’m here, after all.

“You’ll break a leg, just look,” I say, pointing over the railing to the pool. “That’s the shallow end, you idiot.” The deep end is the one farthest from us. He’s got three feet of water to stop his fall.

I’m judging the distance between us now, judging how hard it would be to grab his arm and yank him back. He’ll be mad. He’ll be roaring with the loss of the rush he didn’t get. He might even shove me down and do it anyway, his determination so solid not even I can break through it.

Let him jump and be there to pick him up and take him to the hospital? Or fight him only to get hurt myself and still see him jump?

He’s done worse than this and survived.

One of the girls behind me grabs my shoulder in excitement, and I turn my head. Just a breath, and I’m not looking at Nicco.

He disappears from the corner of my eye.

The crowd inhales like a single giant beast.

“Shit,” I shout as I scramble to the spot he just vacated, leaning over to see. He pulls up his legs, cannon-balling down, plummeting toward the water. He smashes into it, spraying everyone brave enough not to back away. I release the breath I’d been holding. He made it. Time to get down there and make sure he made it in one piece. I shove past the two girls and back into the house. I take the stairs down two at a time, pushing anyone in my way out of my path. I need to get to Nicco as fast as possible. I need to make sure he’s okay, and if he’s not, I need to get him help.

It’s hard not to see him in my mind, on the ground of his brother’s room, a pool of blood seeping from under his chest. I grit my teeth and wipe the memory away. That was three years ago. That was my fault. This isn’t the same. People shout and laugh as I squeeze past them―a good sign. Surely they’d be screaming if Nicco was injured. I jog down the stone path that winds around the house to the backyard, the salty, musty scent of the bay barely distinguishable over the smell of spilled beer, making my knotted stomach flip and bile rise up my throat.

Finally, through the crowd, I catch sight of him.  He’s in one piece, no blood, casually leaning against the edge of the pool like what he just did wasn’t dangerous and dumb. His black curls drip with water, and he even has the audacity to accept congratulations from the few people willing to offer it.