Chapter Forty-One
FORTY-ONE
I WOULD BE LYING IF I said I haven’t been waiting anxiously by the phone for Maureen to call and tell me that she’s finally set up a meeting with the Asheville coven.
Now that I know there are more people out there like me, I can’t stop fantasizing about what it will be like to meet them.
Will they look like me and Gigi? Will I be able to feel it? The connection between us?
It wasn’t long before I broke down and called her. When she didn’t answer, I left a voicemail. But that was a few days ago already.
In the meantime I’ve spent any spare moment I have in my room, struggling to master my power, to wield it at will instead of succumbing to it. I empty my mind and envision what it looks like.
It’s a mass of golden rope coiled at my core. I reach toward it, unraveling the tendril like a whisper, gently extending it outside myself, guiding and training it to do my bidding.
Sometimes it feels controlled and lethal. Sometimes it sputters, and I’m not sure why. I try to call it, but where there should be a swell, it’s merely a leak. Over and over and over again, I wrestle with my power until my brain feels like overworked dough.
In the moments between practicing and classes and homework, I’m tucked into Lucas’s side.
It’s the only way I can sleep. In fits and starts throughout the day.
Dreamless. Devoid of nagging whispers and static like panic in my chest. Though, when I wake, I feel more tired than before, until it becomes nearly impossible to wake at all.
When I showed him the bracelet, he didn’t seem surprised.
“She must have dropped it somewhere on campus,” he said sadly, eyes wide as he poked at it.
“Curt the daytime security guard is kinda weird. Keeps a couple lost and found boxes in the cabin. Things he swears people will come back for one day, even though the school’s policy is to throw stuff out if it’s not claimed after a year.
“You should give it to Missy,” he added. “I think that’s what Fiona would have wanted.”
I nodded. I’d already been considering it, even though so far I hadn’t been able to force myself to show anyone but him.
Things with us are still uncertain. I can tell sometimes when he looks at me that he wants us to be more than whatever this in-between thing is, but I’m just not there yet.
And it wouldn’t be fair to promise him something I can’t give.
Especially when my nights alone are still plagued with nightmares.
Piercing green eyes and raven beaks, knife-sharp feathers and blood-red cloaks.
This is why the dance tonight is going to be so good for me—for all of us. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’m ready to put Maureen and Fiona and Asheville and magic lessons out of my head for one night.
For one night I can forget about Malachi, forget about the crushing weight of grief that still strangles me in my sleep when I’m alone. I can forget about the hedge maze and moonlit daggers and the disembodied voice.
I can forget about the loneliness of the eternal dark.
Sam and I link arms as we approach the propped-open doors of the gym.
Their costume turned out more greaser than Thackery Binx, but they still look amazing.
I’ve pulled my hair back into two large buns, curls loose around my face.
My lips are bright red, and my eyes are shrouded in a dark purple and green shadow.
I’ve emphasized the smattering of freckles across my nose with glitter and brushed some along my chest.
Daisy is a fashion genius, and the emerald corset top with gold detailing and long bell sleeves she found for me lies over a full violet skirt that hits halfway down my thighs. I didn’t want to wear fishnets, but Daisy insisted they make me look hot(ter). I don’t disagree.
“Oh. My. God,” Daisy says as we cross the threshold into the gym and her eyes grow wide. “This is amazing!”
The gymnasium has been completely transformed.
Large wooden dividers section off a haunted house with different scare sets themed after classic horror icons.
The ceilings are littered with fake spiderwebs, and purple and orange strobe lights flash in time to the music that’s luring students to the dance floor.
“It’s all right, I guess,” Missy says, her eyes cutting to the group of cheerleaders in the corner. They quickly turn away when they spot her.
“Fucking losers,” I mutter, angling my body between them.
Daisy’s top lip curls when she sees Missy’s face. “Who cares what those dicks-for-brains think? Let them stay miserable.”
“Yeah,” Missy says, her face flattening with disinterest. “Totally.”
“Uh, let’s find something to drink,” Sam calls over their shoulder as they pull us behind them. “If we don’t have fun tonight, I swear I’m going to have a mental breakdown.”
Ha, I think. Same.
We weave our way through the different sets, screaming with each new jump scare orchestrated by actors from the drama department. It’s not long before I feel it: a slow release. A tentative, temporary relaxation between my shoulder blades.
Our cheeks are pink and sore from smiling by the time we reach the room set up like a creepy doctor’s office, the exam table covered in snacks and a bowl of fruit punch with ice meant to look like eyeballs.
We pour ourselves drinks, Sam sliding a flask from their jacket pocket and tipping two healthy servings into each of our cups.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” they say as we stand outside the haunted pathway.
I lean my head on their shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”
And for once, I really mean it.
We join Daisy and Missy, who are swaying their hips hilariously offbeat to a tune no one else can hear. Everyone around us jumps up and down, flinging their arms in the air, matching the tempo of the fast-paced hip-hop song that plays over the speakers.
Lucas was supposed to meet me, but so far he’s MIA.
When I lift my cup to take another sip, I realize it’s empty.
“I’ve gotta get a refill!” I shout at Sam over the music, pointing at my cup.
They nod and pass me the flask, which I tuck under my arm as I head back to the punch bowl.
It’s quieter in the makeshift haunted house, and I’m breathing heavy, sweat gathering above my lip and the back of my neck.
I tip more liquor into my punch quickly before winding through the props, stopping to admire some of the handmade decorations.
I spot the raven I sculpted in art class from papier-maché, a headless snake dangling from its beak, and I shudder, the visual holding so much more weight now than it did before.
Farther down the hall, the low murmur of whispering drifts to my ears. I pause, straining to listen. The voices sound familiar, and I find myself shuffling toward them.
It’s not okay to eavesdrop, but I’m self aware enough to know I’m not above it. I’m not above most things, apparently.
“Just come to the stupid dinner. Dad’s worried about you.”
“He’s not my dad. And I’m not coming to the dinner.”
Gooseflesh erupts along my arms when I realize it’s Lucas and Malachi.
“Come to the dinner,” Lucas pushes.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
A thud and a grunt, but the words are softer in tone than I’d expect. “Why are you like this?”
“What are you not getting? You can’t change my mind.” Malachi’s voice is growing more distant like he’s walking away. I creep closer.
“You’re better than this… I know you are.”
“You don’t know shit, Luke. You think you’re being virtuous by trying to stop me, but you’re wrong.”
There’s a pause, like Lucas is thinking of what to say.
“Kai.” He releases a frustrated breath. “I just want what’s best for you.”
What are they talking about? I slide my feet across the floor silently, nearing the temporary wall separating us. On instinct my heart rate picks up at the thought of getting caught spying.
“You have no idea what’s best for me…” Malachi trails off hesitantly. When he speaks again, it’s so quiet that I can barely make out the words. “When I look in the mirror, all I see is him.”
I freeze, my hand pressed firmly to my mouth as I pace my breathing.
“But you’re not him,” Lucas’s voice is strained.
“Listen, I’m not doing this with you right now. Not tonight. Not ever.”
“Kai—”
The sound of retreating feet and an exasperated sigh.
My phone vibrates against my chest, and I pull it out. The photo of the fog-shrouded evergreen on my lock screen illuminates with a single notification. From Lucas.
sorry not feeling well
don’t think im gonna be able to make it :/
I clutch the phone against my shirt, smothering the light as firm steps barrel toward me.
Flattening against the shadows, I hold my breath as Lucas storms past and into the next room, his gait slightly off.
I recall him saying he sustained some minor injuries during football practice earlier this week.
I text him back.
oh no, hope you feel better xx
What the hell was that about? What does Malachi have planned? It seems like Lucas is trying to help him despite how much distance has grown between them over the last year.
But I can’t think about this right now. I didn’t come to this dance just to keep spinning my wheels on the same tired drama. I have to stay focused on tonight. On having fun. Everything else can wait. Until tomorrow. Until I have no choice but to face it.
I use my pinkies to wipe along my lower lash line, smooth back my hair, and take a deep breath.
When I emerge from the scare zone, I pause on the perimeter of the dance floor and smile as I watch my friends.
Fingers trail up the backs of my arms, searing sparks following in their wake.
I freeze.
“Dance with me,” Malachi whispers against my ear.