Eternity (12 page)

Suddenly JD felt terrible. Here he was, suspecting this girl—who was basically a stranger to him—of lying, of knowing Chase, of maybe even having seduced Chase on the night of his death. It was absurd, and now he’d gone and made her feel sad. He really had a way with the chicks.

The light was quickly waning, and the magic of the evening felt drained. “I think we should start heading back,” he said. He placed his cup back in the basket, along with the remaining food items.

“And miss the rest of the sunset?” Ty pouted. “Some urban explorer you are. . . . ”

“I’ve got homework,” he said, unable to come up with a clever response. When he stood, JD felt dazed, unsettled with the turn this conversation had taken.

She led the way back down to the main level, but as JD was descending the narrow staircase, one of the boards broke loose under his foot, and he felt himself falling forward.

Ty reached out and he grabbed her hand, steadying himself.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “The ground just completely came out from under me.”

“I saved you,” Ty responded, laughing in that same husky way that she had at the pizza parlor. “Looks like you owe me one.”

“W . . . T . . . F ,” Gabby said as she slid into the red vinyl diner booth. She drew out every letter. “You better tell me more about this Crow sitch.
Especially
if I’m going to be expected to cover for you. Thank god your mom fell for the I-was-having-a-boy-crisis-and-needed-Em-please-don’t-ask-any-more-questions bit.”

Em cringed, imagining what could have happened if Gabby hadn’t thought so quickly on her feet. “You saved my ass, Gabs,” she said. “I’m definitely buying your meal.”

The past forty-eight hours had been hell. Though she’d slept well in Crow’s bed, she’d basically been awake ever since. She’d lain wide awake in her bed the last couple of nights, staring at the ceiling and getting up periodically to peer out from behind
her curtains. The feeling of being stalked was constant. And she’d woken up with a hot, black anger flowing inside of her, like a physical force.

It was undeniable now. Ever since that night with Crow, she’d gained a horrible clarity—that the transformation was definitely happening, and quickly. She had no idea how to reverse it.

She would lose her life, her family. Her soul.

Which was why she was desperate to talk to Skylar McVoy in private. But all day at school, Em had been unable to corner her; the one time their eyes met across the hall, Skylar pivoted and scurried away, almost as if she were deliberately avoiding a confrontation.

Now it was nearly six o’clock, and Skylar’s rehearsal would be ending soon. But first, Em had to deal with someone she’d been desperately putting off: Gabby.

She had never intended to fall asleep in Crow’s bed two nights earlier, and was mortified—and panicked—when she woke up with her face mashed into his pillow, a little spot of drool next to her mouth, her shoes discarded on top of his sheets. She must have kicked them off in her sleep. The truth was, she hadn’t slept so well, so soundly, in forever.

But while she was dreaming in Crow’s bed, her parents had called Gabby early that morning.

“Em left us a note that she was going to your place, but it wasn’t clear that she was sleeping over,” Susan Winters had said
suspiciously. “It seemed strange for a Tuesday night. We tried her cell, but it’s off.”

Gabby had told them Em was in the shower—she wasn’t an idiot—but after hanging up with Mrs. Winters, she’d called Em in a frenzy.
Are you okay? Are you even alive? Where are you? You better get home.
All that stuff. Em had promised to explain everything later. But for two days, she’d been promising Gabby an explanation more detailed than the one she had given—which happened to be the truth. “I was with Crow,” Em had said. “He’s helping me with something.”

Obviously that hadn’t satisfied Gabby—in fact, she’d let out such a prolonged screech in the library yesterday that she’d nearly gotten them kicked out—and she’d finally guilted Em into an early dinner and a gossip session at the diner tonight, claiming she was craving a tuna melt. Em wasn’t thrilled about meeting at a diner with notoriously slow service; she looked at her watch, counting down the minutes until Skylar’s rehearsal got out—then scolded herself.
Gabby,
she thought.
You’re spending time with your best friend, Gabby.

“Bribes don’t work, Winters,” Gabby said once they’d ordered (a tuna melt for Gabs, just a strawberry milk shake for Em), leaning forward. “Spill it—everything. How long has this been going on? How far have you gotten? What about JD? I thought you had a big thing for him?”

Em couldn’t help but be slightly amused by the rapid-fire
questions. “It’s not what you think,” she said. “I didn’t
mean
to sleep over. It was an accident.” He’d been perfectly respectful, as he promised; Em had woken up to find him curled in a blanket on his floor next to the bed. It was weird to see how peaceful Crow looked in sleep—boyish, even. His mouth open ever so slightly, his scowl gone, his eyes fluttering lightly. She’d realized she was staring, and coughed loudly to wake him up.

“So,” Gabby said, not skipping a beat. “My best friend is sleeping with the Grim Creeper, a pot-smoking high school dropout. Should I call an intervention now, or wait until you become the new Teen Mom?”

Em dropped her head into her hands. “Nononononono,” she mumbled, half-laughing. “Gabby. Calm down. First of all, quit it with the nicknames—they’ve gotten me into enough trouble. And second, I am
hanging out
with Crow, and it is very unromantic.” She thought of his hand running through her hair and blushed; Gabby slapped her arm and gave her
a look
. “Okay, okay. We’ve kissed, like, once. But really, I
do not
like him like that. Like you said yourself, I’m still head over heels for JD. Crow is just . . . a distraction.”

“You, Emily Winters, are completely out of your mind,” Gabby said, shaking her head and sounding a lot like Em’s mom had earlier this morning. “I can’t believe I lied for you so that you could hang out—no, I’m sorry,
make
out—with Crow.” She took a huffy bite of the sandwich that had been placed before her.

Em looked down, disappointed that her shake looked so thick. “We’re just . . . it’s because of Drea,” Em said, the excuse coming to her all at once. “You know he was friends with her too. He’s kind of . . . broken up about the whole thing. We just wanted to talk about her. So I went over, thinking I’d just be there for a little while, and I ended up falling asleep.”

The explanation seemed to placate Gabby slightly; it was like a tacit agreement between them that Drea and Em’s unlikely friendship was off-limits. Em felt bad lying to Gabby, but in this case a lie really was better (not to mention more believable) than the truth. She was scared to get Gabby mixed up in this mess.

“Are you in trouble?” Gabby asked. “Did your ’rents buy it?”

“They seemed to go for the fell-asleep-at-your-place thing,” Em said, knocking on the non-wood tabletop. “I mean, they made a big deal about being clearer next time . . . but I was already late for school, so they didn’t go on for too long. They haven’t mentioned it since.”

“It almost seems like you
knew
you were going to sleep there,” Gabby teased, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Em could tell she wasn’t going to just let this one go.

“I promise, Gabs. Nothing is going on between me and Crow. Nothing.” More than anything, Em wanted that to be the truth.

“Whoa, that’s crazy,” Gabby said, suddenly transfixed by Em’s hands.

Em looked down and sprung her hands away from the glass.
There was steam rising between them, condensation from the heat of her hands against the cold milk-shake glass. Like she’d been sizzling on a stove.

She looked all around her and, with the strangest feeling of déjà vu, she tried to change the subject. “So what have you been up to?”

“I met with Ned about makeup on Monday night and then—”

Em put up her hand. “You met with
who
?”

“Ned—JD’s friend? The director? I’m going to do hair and makeup for the play!” Gabby smiled proudly.

“Now who’s keeping secrets?” Em asked playfully. “That’s awesome, Gabs. I had no idea.”

“I just decided on Friday,” Gabby said. “I figure it’s something good to put on the old college application, plus I’m good at it. And it won’t take up too much time. I mean, the play is coming up so soon. It basically just means I have to be there on Tuesday night.”

“Very practical,” Em agreed. “So you’ll be spending time with JD, huh?” She tried to sound casual, but Gabby knew her too well.

“Already thought of it,” Gabby said breezily. “I’ll take copious notes on what he does and say good things about you whenever I can. Plus, there is
no
reason for you to worry about those theater girls. They are cray-cray.”

“What would I do without you?” Em smiled. Here was an unforeseen benefit of telling Gabby about Crow: Out of nowhere, Gabby was rooting for JD.

Em felt a sudden rush of love for her best friend—her loyal Gabby.

Would she lose this, too?

• • •

Em was getting good—too good, maybe?—at following people, at tracking them down. If she couldn’t corner Skylar on their mutual territory, she’d have to go one step further.

After dinner, Em drove straight to Skylar’s house. It had started to rain, and the constant squeak of the windshield wipers was oddly comforting in the otherwise silent car. She’d decided against calling—there was less chance, this way, that Skylar could avoid her.

She was desperate and could think of no better options. Crow had said he’d help her, but what had he done? Nothing yet, other than write a few songs.

Em knew Skylar probably couldn’t do anything either. She was just another victim. One who’d somehow managed to escape the Furies’ long-lasting curse. But then there was Skylar’s aunt Nora.

Nora was knowledgeable about local lore and history. She knew Ascension’s secrets. She knew its ghost stories. Last time Em showed up at Skylar’s house, Nora had acted as though Em
had leprosy. For the first time, it hit her that maybe Skylar’s aunt had some intimate knowledge of the Furies—had, in fact,
recognized
the darkness in Em.

Even though the woman seemed to despise her, Em had to find out what Aunt Nora knew.

The old Victorian house was close to downtown Ascension, and as she drove up Em saw several lights were on. That was a good sign. She parked her car and made a run for it, ducking her head as drops pelted down on her. Once she got onto the covered porch, she wiped the rain off her face and knocked loudly on the door, hoping both that Nora would answer and that she wouldn’t.

But it was Skylar who came to the door. Her wig was askew and it took everything Em had not to reach out and adjust it. Em wondered about the scars on her scalp and shuddered.

Skylar flipped on the outside light, bathing Em in an orange-yellow spotlight. “What are you doing here?” she said.

Em held out a hand, as though to prevent Skylar from closing the door in her face.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I know we haven’t really . . . spoken since your—your accident. But we really, really need to talk.”

“I don’t—” Skylar began to speak, but Em cut her off.

“You know as well as I do that what happened to you wasn’t just random. It was retribution.” There was no time for mincing words—Em had to make sure that Skylar was paying attention.

She was. Skylar’s eyes grew wide and sad. “I was being punished,” she squeaked out.

“Exactly,” Em said. “Karma’s a bitch—or, really, three bitches. Called the Furies.”

Skylar nodded. “The ones you warned me about. I told them I was sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have . . . ” She trailed off, staring anxiously past Em into the front yard.

“Listen, Skylar. I’m sorry too. But they don’t care. None of that matters to them, so I’m hunting down a way to get rid of them. Forever. But I need to speak to your aunt,” Em said, shifting her weight restlessly from one leg to the other. “She knows something. About the Furies. I’m sure of it.” She couldn’t tell her
why
she was sure of it—then she’d have to admit what was happening to her, what was growing inside her.

“She’s not . . . ” Skylar started to say.

“Look, I know your aunt isn’t crazy about . . . unexpected visitors,” Em jumped in, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “But I’m . . . ”
Running out of options,
she thought. “I’m pretty sure she knows something
important
.”

“My aunt’s out of town,” Skylar offered apologetically.  “She’s down in . . . Well, she’s gone for a few days, anyway.”

“Where is she?” Em asked, hoping to be invited inside.

“She had to go down South to deal with some family stuff,” Skylar said. “That’s all.”

Em looked down at her feet and tried to conceal her
disappointment. Even this, a relatively minor blow, seemed to strike deep into her gut. She was running out of time. She knew this, could feel it, could already sense the change.

“I should have listened to you,” Skylar said in a whisper. “When you told me—about Meg and her cousins, or
whoever
they were.” Skylar twisted her thin fingers together. “I—I didn’t want to believe you. I wanted a friend, you know?“ She looked up at Em, her eyes wide, pleading, and Em felt a pulse of pity for her.

“I know, Skylar,” she said, and placed a hand on Skylar’s arm. “But those girls weren’t your friends.” She thought of the multiple times she’d attempted to find out more about Skylar’s relationship with the Furies. At the bonfire, at her house, at the hospital . . . rebuffed, every time. Still, there was always the chance that by warning Skylar in advance, Em had saved her from being targeted for the Furies’ continuous wrath.

“I know that . . . now,” Skylar said. Her green eyes were focused on something just past Em, into the now driving rain, and they looked filled with pain. Em could see that the girl standing in front of her was nothing like the mini Gabby of recent past. Her clothes were plain—medium-wash jeans and a gray shirt—and her face had the dull pallor of someone who hadn’t been getting enough sleep or enough sun. Still, Em noticed that without any makeup on, her eyes were big and childlike. She was cute. If it weren’t for the ever so slightly crooked wig and all those angry scars . . .