Envy (Fury) (28 page)

“We’re going upstairs,” she said firmly, and practically hauled Em up to her bedroom. Em protested but didn’t fight her.

Once they were in her room with the door closed behind them, Skylar turned to face Em, who was looking troubled. “Sorry about that,” she said. “My aunt is just a little cuckoo—she’s into, like, auras and spirits and stuff—and she acts like that around all my friends.” Which, unfortunately, was kind of true.

“Like the friend you told me about at the bonfire party?” Em asked.

Skylar tensed—she wasn’t sure if talking about Meg was a good idea. But Em kept going.

“The friend who gave you the orchid—Meg? How did you meet?”

Skylar sat down on the bed, picking at the quilted bedspread. “At the ice cream shop near school,” she said. “I went in there one day and we started talking.”

Em’s eyes were boring into Skylar’s, as though she was trying
to memorize not just what she was saying, but everything about her. It made Skylar feel like she was under a microscope.

Em continued, “And you’ve met her cousins, right? Ty and Ali?” Skylar shrank back under Em’s gaze; it was starting to look incendiary, angry.

“I’ve met them once or twice,” Skylar said. “They’re . . . nice.” Even as she said it, though, she flashed to their curiously impassive faces as they stared at the dead body. And Ali had
smiled
. “I mean, I don’t really know that much about them.” Again, a truth.

“Has anything weird been happening to you?” Em persisted. “Do you feel okay? Have you done anything you feel . . . maybe . . . ashamed about?”

Skylar could feel the blood heating her face. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, digging her nails into her biceps. “Nothing’s weird,” she said stubbornly. “Everything’s great.”

“It’s okay, Skylar,” Em said gently. “You can tell me.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t like the way Em was looking at her. “Look, dinner’s almost ready,” Skylar said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I think you should leave.” She stood up, opened her bedroom door, and waited expectantly for Em to walk through it.

But Em didn’t move. “That girl and her cousins are dangerous,” she said, and there was a pleading quality to her voice. “If you’ve done something, please tell me. You might not realize it yet, but something bad is going to happen.”

Skylar stood there, thin-lipped, refusing to speak.

“Whatever they’re trying to do to you, it isn’t fair. I want to help you,” Em pleaded. “Maybe we can work together. Mayb—”

With every bit of quiet force she could muster, Skylar interrupted. “Please leave, Em.”

Em seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon. “Fine,” she said, and Skylar could almost see her give up. They walked downstairs without saying a word. But right before she left, Em turned and spoke once more. “Please call me, Skylar, if you need anything. Or if you feel scared. I won’t judge you.” As she watched Em turn to go Skylar felt the strangest sense of déjà vu. She slammed the door after Em.

“I’ll finish the risotto,” she called upstairs to Aunt Nora, hoping it hadn’t gotten sticky after being abandoned. Her stomach was actually growling now.

She poured some chicken broth into the pot and stirred the rice, which fortunately hadn’t congealed into a gloppy mess. The clams glistened and the shrimp was pink and plump. She stirred absentmindedly, trying to distract herself from Em’s prying questions by thinking about the dance, Gabby, and Pierce. She had barely seen Pierce in the past few days, and he still hadn’t approached her about the dance as he had said he would. She had seen him with Gabby several times. For once, though, Pierce and Gabby weren’t what plagued her. Em’s words resounded in her ears. Was there truth to them? Em had said Skylar shouldn’t trust
Meg, Ty, and Ali. But as far as Skylar was concerned, those three were the only ones on her side.

She thought about all the advice Meg had given her since they’d met. That she shouldn’t allow herself to be so intimidated by everyone. That people might
seem
perfect, but it’s just a matter of seeing people’s weaknesses as well as their strengths. Em’s weaknesses were clear enough: She was out of her frigging mind.

And what else had Meg said? That you had to want something badly in order to get it . . . because once you wanted it badly enough, you could do anything.

Skylar knew what she wanted.

But what were Gabby’s weaknesses? Skylar was convinced she had none. And just then, as she poured more broth into the risotto, it hit her. The clams, the shrimp, the flaky bits of haddock—they reminded her of what Gabby had told her, right in this kitchen, last week. About her shellfish allergy, and how when she’d had a spot test for it, hives had popped up on her skin.

Bingo.

Skylar felt a surge of excitement. Meg had been right the whole time. Skylar was never going to get Pierce’s attention if Gabby was always stealing her limelight—whether she was doing it purposefully or not. She needed to get Gabby out of the picture, just for a few days. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

If she just mixed a
tiny
bit of clam juice into Gabby’s La Mer night cream—just a teensy bit—it would give her a rash, like
Gabby said. And what’s a few hives? Just enough to make Gabby über-self-conscious, to put her in the background momentarily, which would allow Skylar to step in and show Pierce how awesome
she
was instead. It was just a practical joke. And a way to buy herself some time.

“Dinner’s ready, Aunt Nora!”

Skylar spooned out the risotto as if she was dishing up liquid gold.

•  •  •

On Saturday afternoon Skylar asked her aunt to drop her off at Gabby’s on her way to run some errands. “I just need to drop something off,” she said. “Something for the dance.”

Though Gabby had been acting aloof since the upset at the dance committee meeting, she seemed to relent a little bit when Skylar arrived at her house bearing a gift: a sparkly Vanessa Lorent headband that Gabby had been eyeing to go with her Spring Fling ensemble but was sold out at the VL store in the mall.

“I found it online,” Skylar chirped, although the weird, coincidental truth was that Meg had given it to her in a bag of accessories. (“I was cleaning out my closet,” Meg had said. “I figured you might look cute in some of this stuff.”)

“Wow, thanks, Sky,” Gabby said, pulling the towel she was wearing tighter around her torso. “It’s freezing. Want to come in? I’m just in the middle of a home wax, but I’ll be done soon. Maybe we could have a cup of tea. I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.”

“Sure,” Skylar said. “I’ve never done a wax. Does it hurt?” She followed Gabby up the stairs.

“You get used to it,” Gabby said over her shoulder. “The things we do for beauty . . .” Then she disappeared into her bathroom, leaving Skylar alone in her plush bedroom.

“Oh, and I have your sweater, from the other day?” Skylar called into the other room. “I washed it.” She took out the carefully folded sweater from her bag.

“Cool,” Gabby shouted back. “Just throw it in the hamper—I’ll have to rewash it. Allergic to detergents.”

Skylar looked at the carefully folded sweater—she’d even dabbed it with a tiny bit of perfume, just like she’d done for Pierce when she’d borrowed his sweatshirt—before sighing and dumping it into the hamper. Nothing she ever did was quite right.

She circled the room. Her eyes fell on a plaque she hadn’t noticed the other day—an engraved certificate, commending Gabby for her charitable work at the regional food pantry. Then Skylar’s eyes took in the framed photos. Gabby hugging each of her brothers on their graduation days. Gabby and Em, tan and smiling on the beach. Gabby, younger, sandwiched between her parents with her hair in pigtails and her face smeared with chocolate ice cream.

Butterflies began to flap at the bottom of Skylar’s belly. Her purse, which she still had strung over her arm, was starting to feel
heavy. She was having second thoughts. Gabby was nice. A good person. It’s wasn’t her fault everyone loved her. Maybe Skylar would just give her the headband and leave it at that.

Bing
. A chat message popped up on Gabby’s laptop, which was sitting open on her desk. Skylar sauntered over coolly, keeping one eye fixed on the door in case Gabby emerged from the bathroom. She skimmed the screen, and her heart stopped.

Pierce Travers had just chat-messaged Gabby. Her breath caught in her throat, Skylar leaned down to read the message.

Hey pretty lady. I have a present 2 give u b4 the dance.

Jealousy pounded through her like a flash flood. She felt desperate. Blinded. Disoriented. So Gabby
had
been leading Pierce on behind her back, just to feed her own damaged ego.

Without thinking, she sat down. Typed back:
when??

Should be ready midweek,
he responded with a smiley face.

At that moment Skylar resolved that no matter what, Gabby would not get Pierce’s present—whatever it was. This had gone far enough. She had to make her move. She wrote,
meet me in the gazebo at 8 pm, Wednesday.
She added a wink for good measure.

You got it,
he wrote.

And then, mind whirring, she added,
but let’s keep it our little secret, okay? IM me at PinkLady13 from now on—my mom is a total control freak and she snoops in my account sometimes . . .

Then, with several frantic clicks, she closed down the chat window and deleted it from the conversation history. She
couldn’t have Gabby find out about this. If all went according to plan, Gabby would be out of the picture for a day or two. Skylar would show up on Wednesday night instead of Gabby. She would make Pierce see that he and Skylar were perfect for one another. Gabby would never even have to know that Skylar had gone behind her back.

As the finishing touches of the plan came together in her head, Skylar heard motion from the bathroom. It was now or never. Tingling from head to toe, as though she’d been plunged into a vat of ice water, Skylar moved deliberately from the desk to Gabby’s dresser, where her prized jar of La Mer cream sat next to a bottle of perfume and a shallow bowl of bobby pins.

The room felt almost windy as she unscrewed the cap on the bottle of clam juice. She whipped around. Was that a whisper? There was a prickle up the back of her neck, as though someone was watching her. But she found her hands still moving, as though they were not hers, as though they were possessed. She tipped a few splashes of the juice into the cream. Stirred it around a little with her finger so it blended. Quickly replaced the lid. Shoved the bottle back into her purse and wiped off her finger just as Gabby breezed back into the room, still wrapped in a towel, asking Skylar whether she wanted to join Gabby and Em at a movie.

“Em’s supposed to be here in half an hour or so,” Gabby said, meandering over to her closet. “I gotta get ready.”

“Actually, I just came by to give you the headband,” Skylar said, practically panting with nerves. “My aunt’s probably already waiting outside.”

She had to get out of the room before Gabby went near the cream.

“See you in school,” she shouted as she ran downstairs. She slammed the front door so hard she could have sworn she heard something shatter.

Persephone was down in the world beneath the earth. . . .

Em had shut herself up in the Dungeon all day, trying to do some work on her independent project for English before picking up Gabby for their movie date tonight. Despite two lattes and a regular coffee, she was—shocker!—finding it difficult to concentrate on school with thoughts of banishment rites weaving through her head. She’d been reading all about various sacrifice rituals, but it was only freaking her out. What could she and Drea do? It wasn’t like they were going to kill a baby pig. Or another snake.

And now she’d stumbled on this stuff about Persephone, the beautiful goddess who was kidnapped by Hades. She was tricked into swallowing pomegranate seeds while in his dark netherworld, and as a result, belonged in part to that underworld, where
she was forced to dwell for six months of each year for all of eternity.

Em heard Ty’s silvery voice saying,
This will bind you to us forever.
The coffee between her palms was still piping hot, but suddenly she went cold—What had she done?

Impulsively, she pulled out her cell phone and called Drea. She wouldn’t tell her the exact truth. But she could hint around it. She whirled one of her twin braids around her finger as she waited for Drea to pick up.

“We’ve got to talk,” Em said as soon as she answered. “I’m freaking out.”

“Hi to you, too,” Drea said. Then her tone turned uncharacteristically earnest. “Why don’t you come over to my place and let’s talk this through, okay? I think I might have some good news that will help you.”

Em agreed, hung up . . . and immediately realized that she had double-booked. She was due to meet Gabby in half an hour so they could get pizza before the movie. She typed out a text to Gabby—
Running late but be there soon. Promise!
—and was just about to press
SEND
when she heard a voice over her shoulder. “Tsk, tsk.”

She looked up. Crow was standing above her, holding a coffee, wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket. “Persephone should’ve listened when Hades warned her,” he said, pointing at her book.

She hadn’t seen Crow since that night at the underground club, which wasn’t to say that she was surprised to run into him here at the Dungeon—honestly, she wasn’t sure whether she’d been hoping for the chance to confront him, or if she’d wanted to avoid him. It wasn’t like she’d dressed to impress, in her ratty corduroys and green Gap shirt that she’d had since middle school. But there were tons of places she could have studied today, and she chose the coffee shop where Crow got his Red Eyes. That was an answer in itself.

Ugh.
She didn’t know
how
she felt. Everything in her life was messed up—that was the only truth she could cling to.