Bite Me! (6 page)

O
ctavia had left and I was finishing off a hemoshake trying to recover when the intercom buzzed.

“Excuse me, Liz, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a police officer here asking to see AJ.”

“Just a moment, Laura,” Mom said. She walked around the desk and held my hand tightly. “You don't have to speak to him yet if you're not ready.”

“Why would he want to speak to me?”

“I'm sure they're interviewing all the kids at the party. Like I said, if you're not ready—”

“No. I'm fine. Just don't leave me.”

Mom opened her office door and invited the officer
inside. My nervousness zipped out of me when I saw Cody Littleton. Thank God it wasn't the big dog, Sheriff Al Christopher. Cody is just a couple of years older than me, so he is a puppy compared to Big Al.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Cody said, removing his tan deputy hat as he entered the room. His reddish brown hair is cut military short, which would be intimidating if it weren't counterbalanced by his freckled face and soft green eyes.

“Hiya, AJ,” he said with a nod.

“Hey, Cody.”

He walked over to the couch and sat next to me, placing his hat on his lap. He played with the rim like he was nervous. “I'm real sorry about your friend. And I'm even sorrier that I have to ask you some questions.”

“It's all right.”

He pulled out his spiral notebook and flipped through a couple of pages. “Several people reported that they saw you and Noah together on Saturday night. Is that true?”

I glanced over at Mom, and she reassured me with a smile. “Yes,” I answered.

“How together were you?”

“What do you mean, Cody?” my mother snapped.

He glanced nervously from his notebook to me to my
mother. “I'm sorry, Dr.—”

“It's Fraser now,” Mom said, when he hesitated at her last name.

“Dr. Fraser. I do apologize for having to ask such an indelicate question. But we have reports that AJ and Noah were quite close on Saturday night, if you get my drift.”

My cheeks burned red—almost as red as Cody's. Maybe having Mom stay for my questioning wasn't such a brilliant idea. Nothing quite like being questioned about your sex life in front of your mom by the southern version of Ron Weasley.

“I get your drift just fine, young man. What does that have to do with his death?”

“Well, ma'am. It seems your stepson was seen with Noah, too.” He cleared his throat. “He apparently caught AJ and Noah in a compromising position. We have reports that Ryan was jealous and angry. And since he was the last person seen with Noah and since it looks like Noah had been in a fight before he died…” He trailed off to let us draw our own conclusions.

“That's not what happened,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I mean, it was kinda what happened, but not exactly. And I knew Ryan had nothing to do with Noah's death. “There was no way Ryan beat Noah up and
just left him there. He's not that guy.”

“Oh? Well, by all means, clear this up for us, AJ. All we want is a firsthand account of the situation.”

“Noah and I did go off into the woods together and we did make out for a little bit. But then I stopped things because it was getting out of hand and I wasn't ready.”

“And he was okay with you stopping?”

“No. He tried to force me to touch him and when he stuck his tongue down my throat again, I bit it.”

“And is that when Ryan found you?”

“Yes, but not just Ryan. Bridget Craig and Malia Gervase were with him.”

“What happened then?” he asked, steadily making notes on the pad.

“I told Noah off, and we left.”

“All of you?”

This wasn't fair. I had to tell the truth, even though my gut told me Ryan hadn't done anything. If anyone was to blame, it was me. I couldn't lie to a police officer, could I? No. Never. I couldn't.

Not even for Ryan.

“Yes, we all left together.”

Never mind, I guess I could. Great. Looks like I just purchased a one-way ticket on the handbasket to hell.

Cody cocked a copper eyebrow. “You and the girls, right?”

“No, all of us. Ryan, too.”

“Hm,” Cody said, scribbling another note. I leaned over to try to see what he was writing, but he closed the notebook before I could get a good look.

“Hm, what?” I asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about, AJ. Thank you for your time. We'll be back in touch if we have any more questions.”

Cody placed his hat back on his head and tipped it toward Mom. “Thank ya kindly, Dr. Fraser.”

“You're welcome, Cody. Give my best to your momma.”

Mom closed the door, then turned back toward me with her arms folded across her chest. “What's gotten into you?” she accused. “First you booze it up at a party and now you're lying to a police officer. This is just not like you, AJ.”

“What?” I said, trying not to stammer. “What do you mean?”

“I saw that look on your face just before you answered that last question. You
lied
to him.”

I sighed. “Mom, do you think Ryan beat Noah up?”

“No. But—”

“But nothing. He didn't. I know it, and you know it.”

“You lied to keep him out of trouble. That is never a smart thing to do. You need to call Cody right now and tell him the truth.”

“I already told you, we all left together.”

“Ariel Jane, this will come back to bite you in the ass, and you know it.”

“Well, it's something I'll have to live with, then. Ryan couldn't do that to Noah. He couldn't do that to anyone.”

“AJ, you're not a liar. You've never been a liar. Why do this?”

My heart felt like a wrung-out washcloth. She was right. The truth had always been important to me, even though I live a lie every day. Now that I think about it, honesty is important
because
I live this lie. It's not easy being one thing and pretending to be something else.

Lying didn't feel right. But I could live with it, because Ryan getting into trouble over something I know he didn't do would've felt much, much worse.

“Ryan wasn't there. We
all
left together.”

With those four words I completed my transformation from Dudette Do-Right to Little Miss Deviant.

 

Guilt clung to me like Saran Wrap as I drove home. The more I tried to shake my brain clear, the more layers of cling wrap I had to fight. My gut knotted and my heart hammered as I worked to force any thought of Noah out of my brain.

But I couldn't get rid of him. The more I struggled, the more I felt suffocated by my own apprehension.

I pulled into the driveway to find Ryan waiting for me.

“We need to talk,” he said as I closed the car door.

“Can't this wait?”

“I don't think so. C'mon.” He grabbed me by the elbow and escorted me to the backyard. A tire swing swayed gently in the breeze, practically inviting me to sit down. So I did.

“I'm tired, Ryan. I really don't have anything to say.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brown eyes dark with worry.

“Never better.” I laughed bitterly and toed the ground, launching the tire into a creaky sway.

“Cody Littleton came to see me today,” Ryan said. “He thinks I beat Noah up and left him unconscious.”

“Yeah, I got that feeling. He came to see me, too.”

“I
wanted
to kill Noah, but I didn't.”

“I know that. You don't have it in you to hurt someone
like that. If you were that guy, I wouldn't have ever gone out with you in the first place.” Much less let him under my shirt.

“I'm really sorry about Saturday night.” He paused. “I miss you.”

I missed him, too. I looked into his dark eyes and sighed as a blanket of chills covered me. It would be so easy to forget today. To forget Noah and the possibility that I was evil in a short skirt and just run away with Ryan like my parents had done. Of course, we all know what a good idea that had been.

“Ryan, I—”

Ryan stopped the swing and pulled me into a hug. I breathed in his scent. Earthy, spicy, and magically delicious. He pulled back, took my face in his hands. I closed my eyes and brought my hands to his arms, waiting for a kiss that shouldn't happen, but one I needed with every drop of blood in my body.

He leaned in and I mirrored the motion, sliding my palm along his arm to his hand. I felt him flinch and it startled me. I opened my eyes and pulled his right hand off my face and glanced at his knuckles.

My heart fell when I saw the bruises and swelling. Grabbing his left hand, I removed the Band-Aids that
covered his swollen knuckles. Dried blood crusted around the open wounds.

“You lied to me.” The irony of the situation hit me in the gut like an iron mallet.

“No.”

“Yes. You did. And I covered for you.” My hands were shaking. My voice cracked.

“I never asked you to do that, AJ.”

“I told Cody you left with me last night.”

“Why would you do something so stupid? Now it just makes me look guilty!”

“Isn't that what you are?” My insides were a jumble of live wires sparking and shocking their way through my system. Had I been wrong about Ryan? Did he beat Noah up and leave him there for me to suck the remaining breath from his unconscious body? Were we like some anti-superhero duo, working together to spread our evil stepsibling karma across the planet?

“I covered for you! I lied for you! I hate liars and now you've turned me into one.”

“I never asked you to cover for me, AJ. Don't blame your stupidity on me. Living a lie can be a bitch, so either come clean or deal with it.”

Who the hell was he talking to about living a lie? I
was the queen of dichotomy. Perfect little human girl on the outside. Raging out-of-control vamp on the inside. I knew lies. I just didn't like liars. (Yes, I know. I'm also a hypocrite.)

“Oh, that's rich coming from you. I hope you're ready to take your own advice. So you want me to call Cody and tell him, or are you going to, as you put it, ‘come clean or deal with it'?”

“I didn't kill Noah,” he said quietly.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

His silence was all the answer I needed. “The water can get really cold in the River Denial,” I said.

And I should know.

W
hat else could go wrong?

(Okay, just for the record, one should never ask that question, 'cause inevitably something else will happen….)

It really wasn't like Ryan to keep things from me—especially important things like “Oh, by the way, I beat the shit outta Noah last night but I didn't kill him. He was alive and kicking when I left.”

The truth was, I no more believed Ryan killed Noah than I believed in Santa Claus. The bigger truth—no matter what my momma and that “bite” test said, I still had doubts about my own innocence. I could only hope I'd feel better when Momma got those venom test results back.

The guilt weighed like a wet blanket, heavy on my back and shoulders, as I thought about Noah. Suddenly I could smell moss and wet leaves. As I had been in my mom's office, I was transported back to Saturday night, to the moment I licked the sweat from his neck. My heart kicked it up a notch and my mouth watered.

But a movement by the window startled me. I shifted to glance outside as the hairs on my neck stood on end. I quickly scanned the woods.

I was going out of my mind. As if someone was really out there watching me. From my second-floor window. What a schizo.

My cell phone rang as I crossed myself and pulled the shade down. My Catholic guilt might make me paranoid, but it didn't hurt to cover my window, anyway.

I sat down on the edge of my bed and answered, “Hello.” Spike stretched and meandered over to me, plopping down on my lap.

“Hey,” Malia said. “Are you okay? You nearly plowed me over running out of the office today.”

“Yeah. I'm fine. I had just found out about Noah and was totally out of my head. Sorry about that.”

“No prob. Finding out about Noah nearly did everyone in. They released us after the announcement today.
You could've heard a pin drop in the gym when they told us. Except for the sniffling, it was dead quiet.”

Dead quiet. How appropriate.

“So, anyway, I was calling to warn you about tomorrow,” Malia said with an edge to her voice.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Can you believe Crabby Crandall scheduled a pop quiz for tomorrow? She's giving us a ten-question test over tonight's reading assignment. That woman is completely out of her mind! She knows everyone is in shock over Noah and that the reading won't get done. Oh, and I heard they're having a memorial service tomorrow. You wanna go after school?”

I sighed and felt my shoulders slump. The very idea of going to Noah's memorial service made me sick to my stomach. “Yeah. Let's go together. I'm sure Bridget will come, too. So, how did you find out about the test? Is it on the syllabus?” The one I didn't get.

“I don't think so. I was still registering during her class, so I didn't get a syllabus. I overheard her talking to her evil minion assistant outside of the teachers' lounge after all the students were dismissed today. They were both so giddy, their dried-up raisin faces were almost plump with delight.”

“Dammit. I don't wanna study tonight. But I also don't wanna fail her test. I don't think I could handle that condescending smirk of hers right now. I guess I don't have a choice.”

“This is crap, AJ. Don't do the reading. She can't do anything if everyone fails.”

“If you didn't want me to study, you shouldn't have told me about the quiz.”

“Whatever. Mrs. Crandall shouldn't be such a hard-shell crab.”

Yeah, but failing her test wouldn't soften that shell anytime soon. As a matter of fact, I've always suspected Mrs. Crandall is a little bit (okay, a lot bit) of a sadist who takes pleasure in failing kids and making us miserable. So if there
is
a mass failing tomorrow, Mrs. Crandall might feel like she's in heaven.

I walked over to the mini-fridge next to my bed and pulled out a hemoshake. Exhaustion settled in. My eyes were heavy and my brain was this side of mush. I caved to the realization that there would be no studying tonight. So I flipped on the television and zoned out to some
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
reruns.

Maybe Angel and Spike would send me into a pleasant night of sexy vampire dreams.

 

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

It was dark. My eyelids were so heavy, I couldn't open them, but my heart was racing. Something had woken me from my death-sleep.

Scritch
,
scritch
,
scritch.

There it was again. My heart pounded loudly in my ears as I heard the scratching on my window. Like an insistent pet, scratching at the door to come back inside.

But my cat was curled up next to me, and I was on the second floor, anyway.

Scritch
,
scritch
,
scritch.

Maybe it was a breeze blowing a branch against the window.

I focused my hearing to listen for the wind. But I heard nothing.

I jumped up and flung the shades open. Nothing to see, either.

With my heart hammering in my head, I climbed back in bed and waited for the sunrise.

 

I wish I could say I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when the sun finally rose, but that definitely was not the
case. After jumping out of bed, I hadn't managed even one ounce of sleep. Whenever I did get my eyes to close, the hairs on my neck would stand straight up, and I'd hear the scratching on my window or a whispering in the distance. I'd check; nothing would be outside.

Still, I was totally creeped out. So to shake myself awake, I decided to pound my fatigue into the ground with a long run.

I threw myself into my running gear. I walked through the kitchen to leave a note for the family and, instead, found a note waiting for me.

How sweet. The necklace was a simple gold chain with two interlocking triangles carved in the multi-shaded red stone. I clipped it around my neck and hit the road.

The sun had barely winked at me over the horizon,
but the air already felt heavy and thick like wet cotton. It was definitely going to be “Mississippi hot” today.

Sweat ran down my face as I sprinted the last block toward home. Even in the light of day I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I stopped a few times and looked around but saw only the occasional animal or bird.

The feeling never went away.

With each step, my lungs felt heavier, my heart stuttered, and the hairs on my neck stayed at attention. Obviously, the fatigue and guilt were getting to me. Five miles felt like five hundred, but on the bright side, I was too tired to worry about anything but a shower right then.

The house was still quiet, as the rest of the brood wouldn't start rising for another half hour or so. Hopefully Ryan would make a quick exit like he did yesterday. I really wasn't in the mood to face him.

“Good mornin' to ye, dearie,” Aunt Doreen said from behind me. I swear, that woman just appeared out of thin air. “Would ye care for some tea?” she asked.

“No, thank you. I'm just gonna go take a quick shower.”

“I see ye picked up your trinket,” she said.

“I did! Thank you so much. I love it!”

She smiled and touched my shoulder. “That symbol is
the Seal of Solomon and it's verra special, just like you. Ye seem a bit fashed. What's troublin' ye, wee one?”

Wee one. That was funny coming from a woman who stood a good six inches shorter than me.

“I'm just tired from my run.”

“Ah, so this running you did, it gives you worry lines around the eyes, then? Doesna seem like somethin' I'd do willingly if it made me look old before my time.”

“No. The running helps the worry lines. I actually feel better now.”

“Oh, dear me. That sounds dreadful. You must've looked a fright before. Doesna seem fair, aye? Such large worries being put on such young shoulders.”

“I've heard people say life's not fair more times than I can count.”

“There's no' a truth greater than that one. However, if life were fair, it'd be a smidge more boring, I think.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I smiled and turned toward the stairs.

“Ariel, dear?”

“Yes?”

“Fate is a funny creature. She puts obstacles in your path to see what kind of character ye have. Life isn't fair, life is a test.”

“Aunt Doreen, if that's true, then I'm in a heap of trouble because I haven't studied one lick.”

 

Malia and Bridget were waiting for me at my locker between first and second period.

“So, did you study for Crandall's torture session this morning?” Malia asked.

“No, but I had plenty of time, so I should have. I didn't sleep a wink.”

“You do look like shit, even if your outfit is kickin',” Bridget said, giving me the once-over.

“You're the second person today to tell me that. I must really look bad.”

“Just tired,” Malia interjected, shooting Bridget a look. “Which is understandable, given the circumstances.”

Bridget raised her eyebrows and tightened her lips.

“It's not every day you get to be the last person someone will ever kiss,” I muttered.

“That makes it sound romantic. It wasn't romantic. I'm sorry he died, but he shouldn't have done that to you, AJ. He was a prick and though he didn't deserve to die, he surely didn't deserve you, either.” Bridget's hackles were up and she was in full-fledged-friend mode.

“Thanks, Bridge,” I said as the bell rang. “I guess it's time to face the music that is Crabby Crandall. Hey, are you going to Noah's memorial service today?”

“You haven't heard?” Bridget asked.

“Heard what?” I asked.

“Noah's body is missing. They can't find it anywhere. My mom thinks he was accidentally cremated and the funeral home doesn't want to admit it. Apparently this funeral home has a history of mixing people up,” Bridget said.

“Accidentally cremated? Really?”

“Well, what other explanation would there be? That Noah just got up and walked out on his own?”

Fear tickled my spine.

What if he hadn't been misplaced or accidentally cremated?

What if he
had
walked out on his own—?

Oh, God.

I needed to puke.

“Hey, we've gotta go,” Malia said. “I finally got my schedule this morning. It looks like I'm in three of your classes, starting with Mrs. Crandall's. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I'm fine,” I said, shaking the fear from my head. “Let's face Crabby Crandall together, then. See ya, Bridge.”

As we walked toward class, a couple of jocks ran past us, nearly knocking us over. They missed us, but not Meredith Taylor. She was just turning away from her locker when they bumped into her, sending her books and papers flying.

“Watch it, meatheads!” I yelled, rushing to Meredith's aid as everyone else in the hall just laughed. “We're not required to wear helmets in the hall, but maybe we should be. Here, let me help.”

I gathered her papers as she picked up her books. “Thanks,” she said. “You didn't have to—”

“Sure I did,” I replied with a smile.

She smiled back.

Meredith hesitated. After a few awkward seconds she finally spoke. “You know, for the record, I think it really sucks that you and Ryan had to split up because of your parents.”

“It does suck, but I'll get over it. I don't have a choice.”

“Lindsey's my best friend, and I'm happy she's finally with the boy she wanted, but I'm worried. I really like Ryan, but I'm just afraid she's going to wind up getting hurt. Nobody wants to be the rebound girl.”

“I can tell you from experience that good friends ease
the pain of a broken heart.” I laughed. “Okay, not really. But they make me laugh and that does help. All you can do is be there for her if she needs you.”

“I can do that,” she said.

“Even though we're not on each other's pom-squad, I really hope Lindsey doesn't get hurt. Getting over Ryan Fraser isn't very easy. And that's a fact.”

Meredith smiled sympathetically. “Thanks again, AJ.”

When Malia and I walked into the classroom, the busy hum of chatter came to an abrupt and very noticeable halt. I guess everyone knew I was the last person to see Noah alive. Great. AJ Ashe—kiss of death? Talk amongst yourselves. I took my seat in front of Ryan, who would not meet my eyes, while Malia found a desk on the other side of the room near the front.

The bell rang and Mrs. Crandall and her evil assistant, Mrs. Young (who was, by my estimation, at least 150 years old), entered together.

“Quiet,” Mrs. Crandall barked to the already silenced room. “There will be quiet in my classroom.”

Mrs. Crandall took a long look around the room and stopped when her gaze found mine. “So you've returned to us, Miss Ashe. And just in time for a pop quiz. I do hope you did last night's reading.”

“No, ma'am, I did not. I was a little bit preoccupied.”

“Mm. So I've heard. I guess Mr. James's absence yesterday is excused after all.”

The class gasped collectively, but not one person said a word.

“That's a terrible thing to say!” I started to stand, but I felt Ryan's hand on my shoulder.

I kept my bottom in my chair.

Mrs. Crandall quirked a bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrow as she watched our exchange. “Terrible? What is so terrible about the truth? I know you've had trouble with it from time to time, Miss Ashe, but I hardly think even you can say speaking the truth is a terrible thing.”

She turned her attention away from me toward Malia. “Class, we have a new student. Malia Gervase. Oh yes, and one more thing. Before Mrs. Young passes out your pop quizzes, I must announce a seating change. Miss Ashe, please trade with Miss Gervase. Also, Mr. Charles left this for you.” She handed me a sealed envelope. “Now, desks clear and pencils at the ready.”