Pretty Dark Nothing (23 page)

“
Believe you?”

Yes. The truth.

“That you hear voices?”

I can tell her anything.

“That you see demons? Do you think she would believe you when she can’t even see us? Even you don’t want to accept we’re real. But we are. Can your imagination do this?”
Invisible claws dug into her neck, increasing in pressure with every thought of resisting their wishes. “
You won’t tell.”

I won’t tell.
The demon retracted its claws, and Quinn rubbed at her neck.

“Quinn?” Teresa pinched Quinn hard.

“Hey. That hurt.”

“Good. First thing I want to know is why you stole my boyfriend’s Jeep.”

She wants an answer. What will I say? I’ve never lied to Reese before.

“Really?”
The grip around her neck tightened, and Quinn shivered.

No.

“Be a good girl. Stick to our story and we won’t hurt you.”
Another demon blinked onto Reese’s shoulder, talon’s digging into her flesh. Reese winced and massaged the spot where the demon stood.
“Or her.”

Not until tonight.

The pressure eased.
“That’s right. You know what to say.”
The voices soothed her nerves. The truth, she would
make
it the truth.

“I wasn’t feeling well.” Quinn paused. “Kissable,” the worst song ever, sounded even worse coming from Reese’s pocket. “Um, I think your pants are ringing.”

Reese pulled the bright pink phone from her pocket. “Hello? Your stupid Jeep is fine.” She hung up. “Second thing I want to know is what’s he doing here?” She pointed an accusing finger at Jeff.

“Maybe I should, you know.” Jeff gestured toward his truck. “Call you later?”

Quinn nodded. Neither she nor Reese spoke as they watched Jeff drive away, his left headlight a beacon in the darkness, the right one gray as the night.

“He should get that fixed.”

“What I really want to know is … ” Teresa’s phone sang “Kissable” again. She ignored it. “What the hell is up with you, Quinn?”

“Well, I went to get your purse.”

“Kissable’s” sickly sweet melody grew louder.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“Just ignore it.”

“Okay. So, when I got to the Jeep. I felt major sick.”

Quinn glanced at Teresa’s phone, clutched in her hand, singing and vibrating as if it were alive.

“I sent you a text. Didn’t you get it?” she lied.

Reese shook her head, clearly not buying it.

Quinn wanted to smash Reese’s cell with a jackhammer. “You know, I really hate that song.”

“I said ignore it. Go on.”

“Jeff showed up. Oh, for God’s sake!” Quinn jerked the phone out of Teresa’s hand, touched the answer button, and held it out for her to take.

Reese grabbed it. “No, he’s not here … He drove off on his motorcycle. I don’t have time to talk … Yes … I don’t know … Not my problem … You have two legs, walk.” She hung up. The phone sang again, and Reese answered. “What now?” She listened, and then held the phone out to Quinn. “It’s for you.”

Quinn mouthed the word
no
and shook her head. Teresa covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “I think you owe him an apology.” She grabbed Quinn’s hand and placed the phone in the middle of her palm.

“Hey. Yeah, the Jeep’s all right.” Quinn paced up the driveway. “No, not a scratch. Look, I’m sorry. I felt sick. What? Okay. Thanks, Marcus. I’ll tell her. Bye.”

“Now, was that so hard?” Teresa sighed, put her arm around Quinn, and walked in step with her back inside the house. “So, what did he say?”

“That he’s glad I’m not hurt, and he wants you to pick him up a cheeseburger.” Quinn shrugged and handed the phone back to Reese. “I can’t believe he’s not mad at me.”

“See? Trust us,”
the demons whispered.

“Marcus may not be mad, but Aaron looked like he might explode, and I’m super pissed off at you. I’m not buying the whole ‘I was sick’ line. I’m your best friend. Talk to me!”

“Marcus wants you to come pick him up. He said it’s getting cold. You should go get him.” Quinn chewed her bottom lip and leaned against the doorframe.

“No way. You’re not getting off that easy. He’s not going anywhere. And neither am I. Not until you tell me everything, starting with what happened in that kitchen.” She sat on the couch and pointed to the seat cushion next to her. “Sit. Talk.”

“Jeff kissed me,” Quinn started.

“And Aaron saw it,” Reese finished.

“That about sums it up.”

“And did you kiss him back?”

“No. Well, sort of.” Quinn sat next to Reese. “I mean, I was yelling at him. He apologized. The next thing I know. Wham. Lip lock. Aaron walks in, and that’s that.” Quinn added in a whispered tone, “He says he broke up with Kerstin.”

“And he wants you back.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you left?” Reese crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Jeff sent you a text, didn’t he? That jerk. And you had to go running to him? You ran out on Aaron? Quinn, seriously. What is wrong with you?”

People believe what they want to believe, and Reese had just provided her with the perfect cover. Quinn tried to look contrite. “What was I supposed to do? He told me it was urgent. I couldn’t very well ask Marcus to take me to see Jeff when I was on a date with his best friend, could I?”

“Do you know how shallow you sound right now? I don’t even know who you are anymore. Aaron wrote you a song! A song, Quinn. And you didn’t even have the decency to stay and tell him you liked it? You ran off to lip lock with Jeff instead? Please help me understand.”

“I can’t. I don’t even understand it myself. I made a mistake. I know I’m a shitty person.” Quinn grabbed Reese’s hand and begged. “Please don’t hate me. You might be the only person I have left on the planet.” And she meant it.

Reese narrowed her eyes, letting Quinn stew in silence. Sighing, she squeezed Quinn’s hand. “I don’t hate you, I’m disappointed, and I’m hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, seems like I’ve been hearing that from you a lot.”

“I know.” Quinn braided and unbraided the fringe that edged the couch cushion.

Reese grabbed the pillow from Quinn and punctuated each word by hitting her with it. “Don’t. Shut. Me. Out. Anymore. Do you understand?”

Quinn nodded.

“I mean it.”

Quinn nodded again, and Reese pulled her into a hug.

“Okay, the honesty starts now.” Reese slipped her flip-flops off and wiggled her toes. “Do you want to be with Jeff?”

“Maybe. No! I came here to tell him I didn’t want him back.”

“That’s not what it looked like. You couldn’t have texted him?”

“I did, but he said he would find me and ruin my date if I didn’t meet him. Ami told him where I was.” The demons nodded their approval of the lie. “What was I supposed to do? I was afraid he might make a scene in front of everyone. It was stupid.”

“Couldn’t you have met him outside or something?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I told him I would meet him at the house.”

Reese sighed. “Big mistake.”

“I know,” Quinn mumbled.

“Aaron deserves better than you.”

“I know.” Reese was totally right, Aaron did deserve better.

“I have no idea why he’s so in love with you.”

“He’s not anymore. You saw the way he looked at me. It’s over.” The words caught in her throat; the truth of them ate a hole in her heart that could never be filled.

“Do you want it to be over?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s so confusing. Jeff and Kerstin are broken up, Reese.” Quinn pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on top. “It’s what I wanted, right? He wants me back. Four years. It’s so easy to be with him. Aaron? He’s sweet, but maybe we’re just not meant to be. You know, rebound crush or something.”

“Then why are you crying?” Teresa pulled the sleeve of her sweater over the tips of her fingers and wiped the tear from Quinn’s cheek.

“I’m just tired, I guess.” Quinn sniffled and wiped her runny nose on her own sleeve.

“I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me all night.” Reese rubbed her forehead. “What about homecoming? Are you still going with him?”

Quinn shook her head. “I think kissing Jeff constitutes an un-invite.”

“Maybe I could talk to him for you.” Teresa hesitated. “And if that doesn’t work, maybe Marcus could talk to him. He’ll listen to Marcus.”

“Reese, no one listens to Marcus.”

“True.” Teresa put her elbows on her knees and let out a sigh.

“I think I should let him go.”

Teresa’s phone sang again.

“Hey. I’m leaving right now … No need to yell … Yes, I’m really leaving … No, I’ve never heard of that happening before … It’s fifty degrees outside … Whatever. Bye.” Teresa put the phone back in her pocket. “I better pick him up before he ‘freezes to death.’” Teresa gestured the quotation marks with her fingers and rolled her eyes. “Will you be okay?”

“Yeah. I just want to forget about this whole day. Tell Marcus I’m sorry again.”

“Sure, but promise me something. No more joy rides in my boyfriend’s Jeep. Okay?”

“Cross my heart.”

Teresa hugged her. “Call me if you need me. Love ya.”

“You too.”

Quinn closed and locked the door and pressed her back to the wall. She listened to the now-familiar hum of the Jeep’s engine as Teresa backed out of the driveway. A wave of fatigue washed over her, and the call of her bed couldn’t be ignored.

Quinn felt small and lost in the big, empty house, her footsteps echoing off the oak as she ascended the long, steep staircase. She had no choice. She had to make the journey. To sleep perchance to dream. The quote came into her mind, Shakespeare, she knew, but from which play, she couldn’t remember.
Didn’t that speech have something to do with death?
She shivered.
Please, no dreams tonight.

She opened her bedroom door. Pieces of clothing blanketed her room like new-fallen snow. What she wouldn’t give for a clothes plow. Not caring, she trampled over jeans, tops, shoes, and skirts, until she reached the mountain of her bed. Jelly replaced her bones, her muscles. Hollow thoughts, hollow heart, nothing left of her but a shell. She kicked off her boots then collapsed on top of the heap. She stared at the flowers Aaron had brought her, still sitting where she’d left them on the nightstand. They would be dead by morning if she didn’t put them in water. Brittle. Dry. Hollow. Like her. Dead by morning, and she didn’t even care. Past caring, past fighting the demons, the nightmares. Let them come. There wasn’t anything else they could take from her now. Nothing mattered to her anymore but the sweet relief of an endless slumber. Burrowing down beneath a soft pile of sweaters, she curled into a little ball and fell asleep.

***

The mountain’s peak, tall and snow-covered, ripped at the night, hiding the moon’s silvery body, but not its glow. Small and alone, Quinn clung to the side, an ant on a boulder. Any moment, she could tumble to her death or be crushed by a rock.

She tightened her grip, desperate to reach the top, to see the other side, to see the full, round figure of the moon again. The fog clung to the top half of the mountain like a spider—eight misty legs covering the entire mountaintop. The mountain stretched for miles, and the fog stretched with it. The tentacles reached for her; there was no escape. The shadow pushed its way into her body, gripping her tight and not letting go. There was no use resisting. She let go and fell, on and on into the pretty dark nothing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The door slammed behind Aaron as he barged into the dark, stuffy house. He flipped on the kitchen light, wiping sweat from his brow. The thermostat read seventy-eight degrees. He turned the dial to seventy and opened the kitchen window.

“What are you trying to do? Freeze me out of my own house?” His dad groaned and sat up on the couch.

“Why are you sitting in the dark? And why do you have the heat up so high?” Aaron asked.

“I was sleeping, and it was cold. Is that a crime?”

“Have you been drinking again?”

Aaron rummaged through the cabinets, searching his father’s usual hiding places for evidence. Finding nothing incriminating, Aaron poured himself a soda, drained it, and slammed the glass on the kitchen table.

“I haven’t been drinking.” The springs on the sofa creaked as his dad got up. “Had a long day at work, that’s all.”

Aaron blocked his dad in the hallway. His breath smelled of vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His dad crossed his arms and stared at his son. “What’s going on?”

“It’s time for you to sober up.” Aaron wanted his dad to choose sobriety on his own, but how much longer could he and Josh wait? He was sick of waiting, sick of putting everyone else first. What about what he wanted, what he needed? Aaron needed a father now, needed his advice, his love, his support, and he aimed to get it, even if it meant forcing his father into reality. He grabbed his father and pulled him close, catapulting deep inside his mind. His dad tried to pull away, but Aaron tightened his grip and probed deeper, pushing away his resistance, overpowering him, giving him a virtual shake, a psychic wake-up call.

He radiated the need both he and Josh had for a parent, pushed visions of Josh struggling in school and hanging out with the wrong crowd, held a virtual mirror up to show his father what it was like for his boys to see him as a drunk. He showed him Katy, his mother, disapproving and angry. He took his father to the abyss and dangled him there, let him contemplate and face the damage. Then, he pulled him back, reminded him of love and honor. He opened himself fully and radiated forgiveness to wash away the guilt and grief. And then he let his father go.

His dad blinked, and the alcohol fog faded from his eyes.

“Where’s Josh?”

“I’m not sure.” His dad wrinkled his forehead. “Has he been in trouble lately?”

Aaron nodded.

“What should I do?”

“Stop drinking.” Aaron slammed cabinets as he searched for alcohol.

“I hid the bottles in the potted plant.” His dad crossed his arms and motioned to the tall fern by the window.