Forgotten Lyrics: A Watersong Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

Delia said. “We just need to be up.”
    “Why? What for?” Lydia looked over at the alarm clock next to her bed. “It’s, like, two in the morning. Why do we need to be up?”
    “Just wake up and meet me downstairs in five minutes,” Delia said, then she disappeared.
    Lydia yawned and looked over at the blue troll doll standing on her dresser, the jewel in its stomach glinting from the hall light. It smiled brightly, as if it didn’t know that she’d just been awoken from this really great dream about a cute guy in her English class.
    “You’re entirely too happy about this,” Lydia told the doll, then got up out of bed.
    She went to the bathroom and smoothed out her black hair, which somehow had gotten so messy from sleep that it stuck up all over the place almost as bad as the troll doll’s did.
    Delia had instructed her to wake up, but hadn’t told her if she needed to be dressed for this mystery occasion, so Lydia decided to pass on the clothes and went in her plaid pajama pants and T-shirt.
    When she came downstairs, she discovered Delia sitting at the dining table drinking a cup of coffee. She wore the same U2 shirt from earlier but paired with a pair of pajama shorts for bed, so Lydia wasn’t completely off base in her attire.
    “There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen if you want some,” Delia said.
    “Do I have time for a cup?” Lydia asked.
    Delia shrugged. “Maybe.”
    “What’s going on?” Lydia asked. “Why are we awake?”
    “I just had a sense that we should be,” Delia said. “You know how my senses are.”
    Lydia had spent her whole life hearing about Delia’s senses and following up on hunches . Most of the time they turned out be right. Delia hadn’t ever really explained what they were, other than some type of feeling, and Lydia guessed that her grandma had some kind of mild psychic abilities.
    “I don’t know, Nana,” Lydia said as she glanced around. “It seems like your senses might be wrong this time.”
    Just then the doorbell rang, a loud booming noise that echoed through the whole house.
    “Never doubt your Nana,” Delia said with a sly smile. “Now get the door.”
    When Lydia opened the front door, she found the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. Her long chestnut waves framed her face, and the porch light made her hair positively glisten. Thick lashes hooded her russet eyes. Her tanned skin was impossibly smooth, making her look almost unreal, like she was a hallucination or a CGI creation. The pale blue dress she wore was soaked, so it clung to her curves, and the fabric dripped water on her bare feet.
    It was a few seconds before Lydia even noticed the bloody boy in her arms, and even then she couldn’t form the words to speak.
    “Who are you?” Lydia asked finally, sounding far more in awe than she would’ve liked.
    “I’m…” She seemed to hesitate, then the boy in her arms groaned, and she glanced down at him. “I’m Aggie, and I need your help.”
    “Lydia, let the poor girl in,” Delia commanded.
    She’d gotten up from the dining room table and was on her way over when Lydia opened the door wide enough so Aggie could come in. She had to step carefully to keep from knocking him against the door frame.
    Aggie didn’t look much more than eighteen or nineteen herself, but she carried the injured boy with surprising ease. He was much taller than her, with his long legs dangling over one arm, and he appeared strong and muscular, so he had to be heavy, but she didn’t seem to notice.
    “Lydia, get a blanket so we can lay him down,” Delia said.
    Lydia ran to the hall closet and grabbed an old blanket. When she returned, Delia had her head to the boy’s chest, listening for his heartbeat while Aggie held him.
    “Do you need me to get your kit?” Lydia asked as she spread the blanket out on the floor.
    Delia shook her head. “Not yet.”
    Aggie lowered the boy down on the blanket. One of his arms flopped to the side, and, almost