Envy (Fury) (6 page)

Meg giggled. “Just a guess. Go on, dig in. Have seconds if you want! You look like one of those sticks who could eat
anything
and never gain a pound.”

Skylar blushed; she felt embarrassed and a little proud. She had tried so hard to lose weight after Lucy . . . well, since the accident. She clutched the spoon tighter and was about take a bite when Meg stuck out her hand.

“Wait! I almost forgot the most important topping!” Meg started rummaging around behind the counter.

“Oh, I don’t need any toppings—I like it plain,” Skylar said. But Meg was already tucking a flower into the side of the bowl. It was shockingly red against the white ice cream. For some reason Skylar found herself thinking of a nosebleed, the way a tissue looked when soaked with spots of blood.

“There. Perfect!” Meg stood back, admiring the bowl. Skylar smiled too, and finally took a bite.

“It’s delicious,” she said, letting a spoonful melt on her tongue. “Thank you.” For the first time all day she felt her shoulders relax a little.

“I’m a Rocky Road girl myself,” Meg said, running a hand through her hair.

“So, where do you go to school?” Skylar asked.

Meg’s cornflower eyes met Skylar’s. “I’m taking some time off,” she said with a crooked smile, not offering anything else. Skylar anxiously wondered whether she’d overstepped some invisible line. Maybe Meg couldn’t afford college and that’s why she had the ice cream job.

“I like your hair,” Skylar said to change the subject, and took
another bite. The ice cream in her mouth, its texture and coolness, calmed her down.

“Oh, thanks! I kept it really short for a while, but I decided to grow it out last month.” Meg waved a hand vaguely. “I change my look a lot. Luckily, my hair grows insanely fast.”

Skylar pulled a handful of hair over her shoulder and examined it for split ends. “My hair is just so plain. Like my ice cream preferences, I guess. I’m thinking about changing mine too.”

“Like how?” Meg asked.

“I don’t know, like dye it even lighter, maybe? Or try bangs?” Skylar pulled her hair from the pins so that she and Meg could see it better. It felt nice to be chatting about hair with someone who wasn’t just telling her to spray the back of an updo with extra-strength hair spray.

“Bangs could be cool,” Meg said, pursing her lips like she was really thinking about it. “It’s so weird how even the smallest change can really make a difference, isn’t it?”

The prospect of changing her look made Skylar’s heart thump in her chest. “Yeah. Like getting bangs could be a total makeover.”

“Well, a
total
makeover would be a little more intense than a haircut,” Meg said with a gently prodding smile. “What else would you do? What else would you change?”

Everything
, Skylar thought. She thought about Gabby—how friendly she was, how popular she seemed to be, how effortlessly
she’d beckoned to Pierce. Her tiny frame and her bouncy blond hair. It was impossible not to be reminded of Lucy: the unforced social ease, the cute laugh, and the smile that made people feel warm from the inside out, like hot chocolate or a good night’s sleep. The way Pierce had simply jumped when Gabby called . . .

Skylar felt a familiar pang, one that spasmed just below her stomach.

“It’s just . . . have you ever noticed how it’s so easy for some people?” She pushed away the ice cream bowl and practically forgot that she was speaking out loud. “Sometimes I feel like I’d do
anything
to be one of them.” She pulled the red flower from the bowl, wiped the dripping ice cream off it, and twirled the stem in her hands.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that it was a bit of a surprise when Meg responded warmly, “Anything, huh?” Then Meg grinned, her teeth glinting in the fluorescent lights. “I couldn’t agree more.”

VANITY, OR THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL

“We’ll spend this class period in the library,” said Mrs. Haynes, the substitute who was filling in for the mysteriously absent Mr. Landon, “but you’ll need to do independent research on your own time as well.”

The assignment of the research project was the single piece of good news Em had gotten that week. Maybe now she wouldn’t fail out of school. Em had been unable to focus on schoolwork for the past few weeks, but now she perked up.

“You have until Friday to come up with a research proposal,” Mrs. Haynes continued. But as soon as everyone dispersed into the stacks and to the bay of computers to search for topics, Em approached her with purpose.

“I know what I want to write about,” Em said firmly.

“Already?” Mrs. Haynes pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Yes.” Em nodded. “Greek drama. And myth.”

“Oh, really?” Mrs. Haynes looked intrigued. “That sounds interesting. Although, that’s a very expansive topic. Do you think you could narrow it down?”

Em picked at the cuff of her deep blue sweater, suddenly feeling nervous. “Well, I’ve heard of this . . . type of creature? They’re called the Furies?” She left the word hanging as a question between them, hoping she wouldn’t have to explain much more.

“Of course! The Furies. Female spirits who appear in most stories in a set of three, right?” Mrs. Haynes tapped her lip with her finger, trying to remember something. “Alecto, Megaera, and . . . oh, what was that third one’s name?”

“Ty,” Em said automatically, and she couldn’t stop Chase’s face from flashing before her eyes. Chase’s sad, tortured face. So scared. So defiant.

“Tisiphone, yes!” Mrs. Haynes was thrilled.

Yeah, they’re pretty great until they start tormenting you
, Em thought.

“From what I recall—and forgive me, it’s been years since I’ve really delved into the lesser Greek myths—the Furies were vengeful, correct? Inherently evil?”

“Yes.” Em didn’t even hesitate. “Evil.”

“They exist to drive people mad,” Mrs. Haynes said, nodding
briskly. “This sounds like an ideal topic, Emily. May I suggest investigating how and where they have been depicted by different authors? I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”

Me neither
, Em thought dryly. And as she walked toward the computers, Mrs. Haynes’s words rang in her head:
They exist to drive people mad.
Was that what was happening to her? Her stomach turned as she remembered the five red seeds she’d swallowed at the mall that night. Could that be their effect? Craziness? Were the Furies going to make her insane?

Em took a deep breath and sat down heavily in front of a computer. She made a conscious effort to calm down. She had a chance here—some momentum. She could learn more about the Furies and maybe get a decent English grade. At this point she needed all the help she could get, on both fronts. Nothing good would come of hypothesizing worst-case scenarios. She’d been so paralyzed over the past few weeks that she hadn’t had the energy to sit down and think logically about what was happening to her. This was her chance.

Furies, Greek myth
. She typed the terms into the library’s catalog search engine. Only four results came up, all of them located in the classics section toward the back of Ascension High’s library. She marked down the call numbers, picked up her bag, and made her way over to the stacks. She felt a sense of relief as she did so—a sense of empowerment.

She found the books way in the back of the stacks, and she
allowed herself a moment to revel in their heavy bindings and musty smells. Old books were her favorite. She chose one at random and started leafing through it. The Furies were only mentioned as a footnote in the chapter about Greek sirens—beautiful creatures who lured sailors to untimely, watery deaths. Em replaced that book on the shelf and chose the next one and then the next one, running her finger down the indexes. She wasn’t finding much. A small mention here, a note in the appendix there.

But she hit pay dirt in the fourth book. A full chapter was devoted to the Furies—their history, their appearances in mythology, their legends. She found herself sinking down right there in the aisle between the shelves, leaning her back against the bookshelves and devouring it. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Em chose to ignore it—she could catch up on French later. At this rate she’d be happy to stay in the library all afternoon—at least through lunch, so that she wouldn’t be forced to decide between Gabby and Drea. She pulled a granola bar from her bag and settled in.

According to stories in the book, entire towns and communities could be affected by the Furies’ presence. The Furies had been blamed over the centuries for everything from droughts and epidemics to mass murders—and the problems always stemmed from the crime or conjuring of an individual or group of individuals. From there, the goddesses of vengeance spread their
tentacles, often unjustly. It was like once the Furies had been summoned, they couldn’t be stopped. They wanted more. More revenge. More misery. They wouldn’t leave until they’d had enough. Some believed the Furies had to be specifically called up by an individual desperate for retribution; other myths claimed that the Furies would sometimes appear on their own. And Em read one story that suggested this: If the Furies thought they missed their mark, their wrath increased exponentially.

Em shivered. Again, Chase came to her mind. How guilty he’d felt over what he’d done to Sasha . . . then dead below the overpass, a red orchid in his mouth. And her own punishment for betraying Gabby’s friendship and trust: losing JD, possibly forever.

Would the Furies spread their madness even farther?

Would they wreak havoc not just in Em’s life, but through all of Ascension?

She tried to focus on the words, but they blurred together like a watercolor left out in the rain. Then a single phrase jumped out at her:
Atonement ritual
. She blinked and sat up straighter.

She read:
Although unsubstantiated, many ancient texts have indicated that the Furies may be appeased by a ritual atonement.

Appeased. That meant they’d leave, right? Em turned the page, frustrated that the book didn’t say what the ritual
was
. Still, she felt hopeful. Maybe there
was
a way to banish the Furies. She just had to figure out what it was.

With a burst of energy, she shoved the book back into its
place and scribbled
atonement
in her notebook. As she left the library the next bell rang. She picked up her pace.

•  •  •

“Drea!” Em leaned into the locker room, where girls were changing for gym class. This couldn’t wait until after school.

Drea jumped, clearly startled. Her shirt was halfway over her head, revealing a delicate white bra that was completely uncharacteristic, Em noticed. “Jesus, Em! Stalk much?!”

“Sorry,” Em said, ignoring the stares from other girls, who were likely wondering what the hell Emily Winters wanted with Drea Feiffer in the locker room in the middle of the school day. “Put your clothes back on. Come on. You’re skipping gym.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Drea said, keeping her arms halfway out of their sleeves and pointedly refusing to move an inch. “Are you going to explain why you bailed on me yesterday?”

Em picked up Drea’s hooded black sweatshirt and tried handing it to her. “Yes,” she said. “In fact, I am presenting you with these low-caffeine teas”—she dug a paper box wrapped in pretty paper out of her bag—“to try to make up for it. You know, for your little caffeine addiction problem.”

Drea took the teas with a begrudging smile, and Em continued, “Look, I’m really sorry about yesterday. Gabby was being a diva, and I’ve barely seen Fiona and Lauren recently, and—”

Drea held up her hand to cut her off. “I’m bored already. Just don’t do it again, okay?” Then she started to put her Converse
sneakers back on. “At least you made it up to me by pulling me out of gym. It’s weight-training day,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “So tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Em said, watching as Drea carelessly threw on the rest of her outfit. “So we have this English assignment. It’s independent research. Whatever topic we want.” She waited for Drea to understand the significance, but Drea just looked at her quizzically.

“You’re making me skip class to tell me about a homework assignment?”

Em sighed. “So I proposed that I research mythology—specifically, the Furies.” She stopped to take a breath, and Drea gathered the last of her things.

“Let’s go.” Drea motioned for them to leave through the back door of the locker room to avoid getting caught by any of Ascension’s overly muscular gym teachers, a.k.a. People with Absolutely No Sympathy for Any Problem. “Okay. So go on.”

“Well, I’m doing this research,” Em continued, “and mostly it’s just different versions of stuff we already know. Like, that the Furies characteristically appear in the guise of three women, or that they want to wreak vengeance for crimes. Snakes in their hair. That sort of thing.”

Drea knew all this already, but Em could see that she was still hanging on every word. Em wondered for the millionth time why Drea was
so
invested in the Furies. It’s not like they were
chasing
her
. But she knew better than to ask. The first few times she’d brought it up, Drea had completely shut her down. Em didn’t want to push it. Drea was the only one who understood, who didn’t ask too many questions. Em had to return the favor.

“But then I saw something I’ve never seen, even in the articles you’ve given me,” Em said, experiencing the same sense of fizzing excitement she’d felt when she first read the words “atonement ritual.” They passed around the back of the gym toward the auditorium, where they’d be able to talk in both warmth and peace.

Drea paused and waited to hear.

“There’s a way to end it.” Em stopped walking too. They stared at each other.

“How?” Drea looked skeptical. She started walking again.

“I’m not sure exactly—yet. But apparently there’s some type of ritual, some ceremony that you can do. It works. It said so in the book.” She jogged a little to catch up with Drea. “Wait up, D. What do you think of that?”