Starfall (10 page)

“Hi,” she says, smiling. “I'm Vera, but you already know that.”

That's about all I know.

“Having any trouble finding your way around?” I ask.

Excellent! Now I sound like the hall monitor, exactly the type of person whom a newbie is going to want to befriend in order to be able to hobnob with the A-listers.

“No,” she replies. “I know exactly where I'm going.”

If I weren't so desperate to find out who Vera is, I'd be put off by her haughtiness. She's got that same air of superiority that Nadine has. I used to think it was merely an East Coast thing, but now I know it's much more than that. It's an indication that Vera is something other than what she presents herself to be. She may look prim and conservative and reserved, but I know she's something else. I know something completely different lies just underneath the surface. Knowledge that Nadine and I share.

“Oh, hi, Nadine,” Vera says.

Just after turning the corner into the hallway, Nadine stops short. She's so startled by Vera's presence that she can't even stifle her gasp. When she hears Vera's voice, she loses her balance and practically teeters over and slams into the lockers.

“It's nice to see you again,” Vera adds.

Again?! So these two do know each other. I knew they came from the same town, but there was always the possibility that they ran in different circles, went to different schools, but now I know they share a past. I've got to find out what else they share. Nadine has other ideas.

Mouth wide open, but unable to make any sound, Nadine looks as if she's gazing at her soul and finally understands what she's looking at, as if she might finally take ownership of the horror she's caused. Looking at Vera, Nadine is afraid. And like the coward she is when confronted with something that is frightening, she turns and runs. The sound of her shoes squeaking lingers in the hallway long after she's gone.

Vera shrugs her shoulders and smiles at me clandestinely, as if I'm supposed to understand the depth of what has just taken place. There's only one reason Nadine would react so obviously: She must perceive Vera to be a threat. But that doesn't necessarily translate to a good thing for me and my friends, because while it could mean that Vera is a very good person and has come to help put an end to Nadine's reign of terror, it could also mean that Vera is even more dangerous than Nadine and Luba, with powers that make even evil cower and run away.

The excitement I felt upon Vera's arrival is short-lived. Now I'm not sure if this is the beginning of something good or just the beginning of the end.

If you can't find someone online, do they even exist? That's the question I've been pondering all week. I've kept the meager bit that I know about Vera to myself, lest I be labeled the girl who cried wolf in addition to the girl who became a wolf. I wanted to find solid evidence to prove that the mysterious newcomer is a threat before alerting the troops. After a week of research online and off—I actually did some old-fashioned sleuthing and called Cos Cob High School—I still can't find any proof that Vera Bailey-Clarke, Vera Bailey, or even Vera Clarke existed before coming to town. I was encouraged, however, to discover that Cos Cob High School's nickname is the Two C.

“So it's like she just magically appeared one day and waltzed into town?” Arla surmises. “Stranger things have happened within our borders, you know.”

I do know that, which is why I'm scared. But not as scared as I get when we enter the lunchroom and I see Archie sitting with Nadine.

“This has got to stop!” I cry.

I don't even get to take one step before Arla stops me.

“He misses me,” she says.

Well, not Arla, but Napoleon doing their ventrilospiritual-ist thing again.

“He needs time,” he orders. “But you must watch him.”

That's what I've been trying to do, but it's been difficult with everything else going on lately. Nadine's pregnancy, Caleb's leaving for college, Vera's arrival, not to mention trying to, oh I don't know, enjoy a moment of senior year before it's all history.

As if reading my mind, Nap as Arla replies, “Try harder.”

And on top of everything else I have to deal with ghos-tude!

Shaking her head, Arla grabs onto my arm to steady herself. Looks like she's back from Napville. “I blacked out again, didn't I?”

“Yes,” I confirm, steering her to a table as far away from Archie and Nadine as possible. “And the next time you talk to Napoleon, tell him to cut the attitude.”

“I can't be held responsible for anything Napoleon says when he uses my vocal chords,” Arla replies, flicking the bangs of her blond wig out of her eyes. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to know every word that he said.”

“Same old ‘watch Archie,' ” I offer, without offering up the part about watching out for Archie's soul.

“That's it?” Arla asks, plopping into a seat across from me.

Ignoring her, I go off on a little tirade.

“What good is it to have supernatural connections if we can't get any answers?” I whine. “Between not knowing what Archie's going to do next, not knowing who fathered Nadine's baby, and not knowing where Vera came from, I feel one hundred percent human.”

Unsnapping the lid off of a Tupperware container, Arla grabs a raw carrot and bites into it. Chewing with gusto, she sums up what I'm feeling. “And being human is so last century.”

Being a friend, thankfully, is not.

Having resisted the urge to drag Archie from Nadine's lunch table, I take Napoleon's advice and keep an eye on him while we're both on the football field, him during practice as a starting running back of this year's varsity football team, and me as cheerleading co-captain. I almost quit the squad this year; I didn't think I had enough oomph left in me to keep rah-rahing. But then I found out we were getting new uniforms. I do have my priorities. We swapped our traditional skirts for navy blue boy shorts topped with long-sleeved, white-collared shirts that have our new logo on the back in blue sequins—W
²
. Thanks to the school uniform policy, my daily style is restricted, so I couldn't pass up this opportunity to expand my wardrobe.

Even though I get to wear a more fashion-forward outfit, my heart isn't into cheerleading, so I usually let Deeanne Ulrich, the other co-captain, run the practices. Her rahs still have capital
R
's, so she's a much better leader than I am. Plus, she doesn't have a friend who needs an intervention.

Because of my heightened senses, I see Archie throw the punch from across the field before Sully does, which is unfortunate for Sully, because he's the guy on the receiving end of Archie's fist. By the time I sprint over to them, Archie's sucker punch has escalated into an all-out brawl between the two guys, and their teammates are screaming and shoving and debating whether to join in.

Despite the fact that Coach Emerson has grabbed Archie around the waist and is holding his right arm behind his back, Archie continues to hit Sully with his left. It's horrifying to see Archie lifted off the ground, horizontal, and still so filled with rage that he can't stop his arm from swinging into Sully's body. One of the assistant coaches finally drags Sully far enough away that Archie can no longer make contact. Once his fist isn't ramming into flesh, Archie calms down, as if his fury without a target has finally escaped him.

Immediately, I look at his eyes, certain that I'll see they're two different colors, but I'm wrong; they're both their normal shade of violet. Maybe Archie wasn't consumed by some demon; maybe he doesn't need protection; maybe this was just a guy thing? Unfortunately, it's now turned into a disciplinary thing.

Outside Dumbleavy's office, Archie is sitting by himself for a moment, hunched over in his chair, his face covered in his bruised hands, scraped and bloodied knuckles exposed. Inside, Emerson is filling in our illustrious leader on the latest on-campus act of violence. I'm sure I'm not supposed to be here, but I'm only following Nap's orders.

But before Archie raises his head and sees me, before I can even try to console him, I see something that breaks my heart. Underneath his stark white hair are dark roots. It looks like an oil spill on a snowdrift, one natural occurrence destroying another. At least one mystery is solved. Archie is definitely changing because of what Nadine did to him in the cabin. He's been changing emotionally, and now he's changing physically. I'm staring at the proof.

When Archie looks up and sees me standing in front of him, I keep staring. I will not abandon my friend, no matter how difficult it is for me to keep looking at him. Or how painful it is for me to listen.

“What's wrong with me?” Archie asks.

His voice is thick with fear and confusion and something else that I can't describe. I pray that it isn't knowledge. I pray that he doesn't know what's happening to him. Let him stay in the dark for a little bit longer, because I had to learn the hard way that once the truth is learned, innocence can never be retrieved.

The truth, however, is that innocence is merely something that's borrowed. We have it for such a short time, some longer than others, but eventually we're stripped of it. It's taken away from us either by age or circumstance or incident. I went through agony not knowing what was going on with me after I was initially cursed, and I know that Archie is struggling with the same frustrations. Perhaps I owe it to him; perhaps I'm the only one who can explain what's happening to his mind and his body and his soul.

“It started that night in the cabin,” I say.

But before I can explain further, Dumbleavy calls Archie into his office. Their talk is going to come first, so ours will have to wait.

 

On my way home I feel so tired that I have to rest. It isn't physical weariness, but the weight of an emotional burden. Leaning into The Weeping Lady I let her absorb some of my feelings, let my frustrations seep into her bark, let my anxiety intertwine with her branches so I can have a bit of peace, so I can breathe easier.

I close my eyes and wait for the comfort to wash over my body, but it doesn't come. When a tree grows tired of your intrusions, you know you're pathetic! I mean really, what else does The Weeping Lady have to do? My cell phone vibrates, and I see Caleb's name pop up on my phone. At least he hasn't abandoned me. When I look at his text message, I wish he had.

What is he talking about?! Sometimes if you want to communicate, you have to use your mouth and not your fingers. As I hear his phone ringing, I can feel my heart starting to beat faster. He must be mistaken; there's no way he could be right.

“That's impossible!” I scream the second the phone clicks and I know he's on the other end.

“I wish it were, Domgirl, but I just saw her,” he replies. “Nadine is here.”

Stupidly I look around as if Nadine is going to pop out from behind The Weeping Lady or I'm going to see her staring at me from across the open field. “I just saw her at school. There's no way she could be at Big Red!”

The moment the words fly out of my mouth, I realize that I'm the one not making sense. Nadine is a witch; normal modes of transportation are unnecessary for her if she wants to travel. She may not have a broomstick, but she doesn't need a car to travel. But why? Why did she make the trip? The answer is obvious.

“Stay away from her, Caleb!” I cry. “She's going to try to trick you or cast a spell on you or do something to you that she's going to regret.”

“I don't think so,” he replies. “She didn't come here to see me.”

What?! “Then who did she travel all that way to see?”

“My roommate.”

What?!

“What does Nadine want with Jeremy?” I ask.

Actually, that doesn't matter. The real problem is that if Jess ever finds out that Nadine is visiting Jess's brother at college, she'll ignore the fact that she's bound by spiritual limitations and make a very mortal decision to kill Nadine.

“Caleb, don't do anything that could get you into trouble,” I instruct, “but you've got to find out why she's there.”

“I think that, um, I'll be able to do that.”

Why is my boyfriend stuttering? “Why are you stuttering?!”

“You'll never guess who just walked into my room.”

Nadine!

“And she, um, wants to speak to you,” Caleb announces.

“Hi, Domgirl.”

That word sounds disgusting when it comes out of her mouth.

“I figured I'd save you from death by curiosity,” she starts, chattering into Caleb's cell phone. “I'm here because Jeremy is doing a paper on physical therapy, and he asked me for some information about The Retreat's policies and procedures.”

Kudos for the kinda-believable lie, but I totally don't believe her.

“And you just had to hand deliver the info yourself? You couldn't e-mail?” I ask. “Don't they have Wi-Fi in the fiery pit of hell that you come from?”

I have to pull my ear away from the phone or else go deaf from crazy mother-to-be's cackle. “Your girlfriend is so funny, Caleb! You really are a lucky guy,” Nadine says. “And, Domgirl, contrary to popular belief, I have lots of friends, and I made the trip up here to see one of them.”

Jeremy Wyatt can't possibly be her friend. Could he? He does make poor choices when it comes to women; I mean he did date Rayna Delgado.

“Hey, Domgirl, it's me,” Caleb announces. “Nadine just left.”

Thank God! “Lock the door! Maybe you should call security in case she comes back.”

“I'll be fine,” he assures me, even though we both know we can't guarantee anyone's safety as long as Nadine is alive.

I'm so disoriented that I don't even flirt with my boyfriend; I just say good-bye and rush home. This uncomfortable feeling doesn't leave me, and when I get inside I'm dizzy, but oddly the problem isn't coming from inside of me; it's the light. I feel as if I'm standing directly underneath a spotlight, cranked up to megawatt power; it's so blinding my vision is all blurred. When I see Vera sitting at my kitchen table, I know I'm hallucinating.

“Hey, Dom. I think you already know my new science tutor.”

Barnaby's explanation does nothing but confuse me even further, so much so that I have to grip the back of a chair because I feel like I'm going to faint. I hear voices and words forming sentences, but I can only splice a few bits of information together, because the voices are talking too quickly and my head is spinning too fast. Guidance counselor, AP classes, science major. Finally, the room stops circling around my head at about the same time Barnaby wraps up his monologue. After a moment of silence, Vera continues.

“I've already taken some classes in scientific research, biology, and physics, so our counselor . . . Sorry, I forgot her name.”

“Miss Martinez,” Barnaby offers.

“Yes, thank you,” Vera says. “Miss Martinez suggested that I tutor Barnaby, share some of my knowledge and make a new friend. You know, the old win-win.”

Great! My brother finally severs ties with one supernatural creature and he is already cuddling up to someone else of equally mysterious heritage. There should be some code inhuman beings could use to identify one another; then I'd know if Vera was like me, more than just a girl. I can't even get a feeling from her; it's like she's put up a wall so no one can find out what she is. Well, if I can't use my superpowers, I'll have to go old school once again.

“So what brings you to our little town?” I ask, pulling out a chair and sitting down. I even fold my hands and place them on the table to make myself appear more like an inquisitor at the start of an interrogation.

“My father's company transferred to the area,” Vera replies. “He tried to find a job back home, but they were willing to help us move, and when he dragged his feet they offered him a raise, so we really had no choice.”

“Ah, the old offer-you-can't-refuse,” I say.

There's no need to glance over at my brother to know that he's giving me the “shut up, you sound like an absolute idiot” look. I've heard my own voice, so I know how dumb I sound. It doesn't prevent me from continuing. “You must've known the Jaffes, right?”

I'm staring right at Vera, not even blinking, waiting for her reaction, waiting to see a flicker of something flash across her eyes that will give me a clue as to what she's really doing in town.