Downcast (24 page)

Haley and Zack exchanged agonized glances. Haley nodded at Zack, whose face became set in grim lines as his hands tightened around Helen who was trembling slightly.

"I have to try it," Haley said to Zack.

"What if it goes wrong?" Zack replied. "You've pushed your luck already. You're not in as much control as you think."

"And you're any better?" Haley scoffed. "I haven't done any bodily...lasting bodily harm. Unlike you."

"You have?" Helen glared at Zack accusingly, and he had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.

"Dude, you made the guy go purple in the face," Zack threw back at his brother. "Twice. And, what if this is breaking the rules? You know she can't help you if you cheat."

“Wait, what’s this about lasting bodily harm?” Helen interjected indignantly.

“Uh, later?” Zack mumbled.

"This isn't cheating," Haley retorted, his sly grin sliding back into place. "This is a loophole."

“Bodily harm? Hello?” Helen jabbed her finger into Zack’s chest.

"A loophole?" It was Zack's turn to scoff.

"I would never have seen it," Haley replied smoothly. "Except, Stephanie thought of it. Since the idea comes from her, therefore, it can't be cheating."

Brother stared down brother in a contest only broken by the bell.

"Go to class," Zack instructed Morris and Helen. "Act normal. Oh, and Helen?" He caught her chin in his fingers and kissed the tip of her nose. "Don't forget to turn in our homework in chemistry. I'll find both of you later for the next step."

The sound of her slap was still echoing in my ears as Haley hustled me out of the restroom and down the hall to our next class of the day.

"WHY ARE WE
going to class?" I hissed to Haley as we headed down the hall.

"Education is important," he replied, smirking.

“Really? I’ve got green swirly things under my skin, and you think—Oh, God, you don’t think it’s some kind of parasite or worm?”

“Trust me, you don’t have worms,” Haley said. “And the ‘green swirly things’ are not bad. Just…pretend they’re not there.”

“Seriously?”

“Trust me for another ten minutes. Please?”

Uneasy, unhappy, but accepting for the moment, I moved to take the open desk by Rob, smiling at him without looking him in the eye. It was a cowardly move, but, I just couldn't deal with my guilt about him on top of everything else right now.

Before I could put my books down, Haley caught my hand and guided me to the empty desk next to him. Momentarily confused because I knew Jordan usually sat there, I looked around to see her moving mechanically to sit next to Rob, her expression oddly blank.

Haley tilted his head ever so slightly toward me and slid me a slice of his deliciously wicked. “Pay attention, this is going to be an important lecture.”

The second bell rang, and Mr. Brown came in. He opened his notes and looked up at the class to speak. His gaze passed over me, and he winced, squinting as if he was looking directly at the sun.

Dread filled me, and I closed my eyes to will back the nauseating fear.

Cool fingertips stroked the long line of my arm, and I felt calmer. I let the sensation of ice creep over my skin, sinking deep into my muscles and soothing the heat I still felt burning below the surface.

I breathed in and out, listening to flow of air. Then I realized that something was really wrong. That shouldn’t have been the only sound I heard.

It was completely silent in the classroom. There were no pens scratching paper, no rustles of shoes or clothes, no sounds of breathing.

My own gasp sounded too loud as I finally dared to open my eyes and look.

Every student sat eerily still. No one moved. No one blinked.

But, they were all there, still flesh and blood, flexible, touchable and warm. They were simply... still.

"Haley?" I whispered, not daring to look over and see if he was the same.

"Easy, princess," he replied, taking my hand. "Pay attention to the teacher."

I glared at him, severely annoyed. He smiled enigmatically and nodded in Mr. Brown’s direction.

That was another nasty shock.

Mr. Brown had the same purplish tint and bulging eyes that Mr. Applebee had shown yesterday under the mind mojo thing.

"Page two hundred and sixty-four," he said in an empty voice. "I will now read you ‘In the Garden of Proserpine’ by A.C. Swinburne."

I turned to Haley, but he simply kept his eyes on Mr. Brown, an expression of intense concentration in his eyes, but with a thin smirk on his lips.

Mr. Brown cleared his throat and read:

Here, where the world is quiet,

Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds' and spent waves' riot

In doubtful dreams of dreams;

I watch the green field growing

For reaping folk and sowing,

For harvest-time and mowing,

A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter,

And men that laugh and weep;

Of what may come hereafter

For men that sow to reap:

I am weary of days and hours,

Blown buds of barren flowers,

Desires and dreams and powers

And everything but sleep.

I frowned with the effort of trying to understand the exact meaning of the poem. He seemed to be describing somewhere bleak and otherworldly, and there was a lot of sentiment about being weary of life. But, I still didn’t know why Haley thought this was so important for me to hear.

No growth of moor or coppice,

No heather-flower or vine,

But bloomless buds of poppies,

Green grapes of Proserpine,

Pale beds of blowing rushes,

Where no leaf blooms or blushes

Save this whereout she crushes

For dead men deadly wine.

Mr. Brown frowned and stammered over a few words, his eyelids fluttering briefly until he seemed to find his place. Except, when I caught up to where he was reading, it looked like he had skipped a major chunk of the poem. Glancing over at Haley, I saw him nodding and mouthing the words along with Mr. Brown. I scrambled to listen to the words, reading them on the page at the same time to make sure I understood everything.

Pale, beyond porch and portal,

Crowned with calm leaves, she stands

Who gathers all things mortal

With cold immortal hands;

Her languid lips are sweeter

Than love's who fears to greet her

To men that mix and meet her

From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other,

She waits for all men born;

Forgets the earth her mother,

The life of fruits and corn;

And spring and seed and swallow

Take wing for her and follow

Where summer song rings hollow

And flowers are put to scorn.

Okay, as far as I could tell, the poem was describing some kind of goddess of death. Sorta. I was confused because it also sounded like she was all about spring and summer and things that grew. My head was throbbing even worse, and I swore it was making me start to hear things. I strained harder to catch the whispers I thought I heard behind Mr. Brown’s voice. It was like his voice had a shadow, and it was trying to tell me something.

Mr. Brown faltered again, and I gritted my teeth against my aching head and scanned the poem for the place he had jumped to.

From too much love of living,

From hope and fear set free,

We thank with brief thanksgiving

Whatever gods may be

That no life lives forever;

That dead men rise up never;

That even the weariest river

Winds somewhere safe to sea.

I waited for Mr. Brown to finish the poem because there was another verse on the page, but he simply stopped reading. A giant bell in some dark tower was ringing in my head, filling my head with painful sound. There was something obvious right in front of me, but it was all too loud, with too many bright colors and giant shapes for me to see it clearly. I was burning up. Even my eyeballs felt scorched.

"Everything alright, Miss Starr?"

Mr. Brown's normal, non-purple-face voice got my attention in no uncertain terms. My head snapped up, and I gaped at him, caught but unsure what to say.

Instantly, he shaded his eyes and turned his face away from me. The other students were blinking and looking around, expressions sleepy and puzzled. I noticed, though, that every time one of them happened to look at me, it was the same reaction: a wince before immediately looking away.

I turned to Haley, and even he seemed to be squinting at me a little, worry written on his brows and the downturn of his lips.

"Mr. Brown, I believe I need to help Stephanie get to the nurse," he said, his voice so liquid and smooth that I even I was agreeing before I realized what he was saying.

Apparently, Mr. Brown felt the same way because he nodded robotically, his eyes firmly fixed on the book in his hands.

"Hurry, princess," Haley urged me as he practically dragged me down the hall toward the staircase, hooking his fingers through my belt loops to pull me along.

"I'm coming!" I panted.

"A little faster, princess."

"Why? What’s happening?"

Haley stopped abruptly, spun me around into his arms, and kissed me.

Or, at least he tried to.

The moment his lips were against mine, he hissed and jumped back, his hand automatically going to his lips as if he had been burned.

Oh. My. God.

He had been burned! I had burned him!

"Does that answer why?" he said ruefully, looking away and careful not to touch my skin again. "Right now, you're dangerous. You're so dangerous that if we can't fix you, you’ll end up killing everyone in this school. I’d tell you more, but we really don’t have time."

My heart stopped. Hysterical laughter was only moments away.

"Okay," I whispered. "That's a pretty good reason. Let's go."

***

The library? Why would Haley bring me here, of all places? He had said he was taking me to see the nurse. If I was going to go thermonuclear for some reason, I was pretty sure he probably should have just taken me to the facilities guys. After all, they were the ones who had fixed the boiler the other day.

"Wait here," Haley said, leaving me by the door and positioning me so that I faced the wall, away from anybody who would pass by. "I need to make sure no one will see you."

"Do I look that bad?" I wondered aloud. "Like, am I Medusa now or something?"

"Poor Medusa. Let that be a lesson about insulting a poet."

"Wait, what?"

"I will be right back."

I rocked between frustration and numbness. Thankfully, Haley returned within a few moments, and he gestured for me to walk through the door. It seemed so odd that for the first time since school started, he didn't stare at me or reach out to touch me. I missed his eyes and his fingers.

"In that office," he directed me.

Well, color me not surprised. I was in Katie Jones' office. I slumped into a chair in front of her desk in the small room, and Haley stood behind me. When she walked in, I looked up at her.

And I almost bit my tongue in half.

Katie Jones no longer had blue eyes. Her irises were now swirling, glittering kaleidoscopes of every color imaginable. Her skin was as pale as Haley's, and her black hair stirred restlessly, even though she herself didn't move.

"Dial it down a bit, Miss Jones," Haley said drily from behind me. "This is hard enough, without you deciding to show off."

She gave him an arched wink, and her swirling eyes stilled and consolidated in the deep midnight blue I was used to. Her hair sat flat and still around her shoulders, and her cheeks were now flushed.

"Oh dear," she tsked. "Look at you. You're a mess. What happened?"

"Um..." My mind flailed around, trying to come up with a good reason to tell her everything. After all, she had been at the house with my mother and clearly knew more than she let on.

"Tell her," he urged. "She is on our side. She is the only one who can help you right now."

“Why?”

“Can we fix you first? Before you destroy everyone in the school?”

“Oh, right.”

I fought the urge to laugh hysterically and told the librarian everything. I even told her about what I thought had been a dream last night, with my mother's insane behavior, the light, and the heat. She gasped at that, and her eyes narrowed as she began to drum her fingers on her desk.

"Right," she said crisply, after I had finished. "Well, this was all going splendidly until Deborah decided to take a trip down the crazy aisle in the store. I don't know what she was thinking. She could have killed you!"

In shock, I clutched at the angular wood armrests of the chair.

Only to hear them crack and splinter under my fingers.

"Oh my God!" I whispered, looking down in horror at what I had done.

Katie Jones was on her feet and out the door of her office in a flash, then back just as quickly with a cup of water from the water fountain outside.

"This is completely unacceptable," she muttered as she set the water down then cleared her desk. "Why they ever gave her charge of living things when she is so desperately temperamental is beyond me. Really, shirking her responsibilities all this time, just to play house! Ah, there. It's not much, but it will do for a temporary fix."