“You just pump it up, don’t you?” My voice rose an octave. “If you can’t scare someone one way, you just try another.”
“Scare . . . ” he said slowly, blowing out breath like smoke, like a ghost. He cocked his head, and the overhead light gleamed in his eye. He looked almost like an animal himself.
“The birds. The cats,” I flung at him.
He blinked. Then he snickered. “Oh God, you mean the Marlwood Stalker. You think it’s me?” He guffawed. “Really?”
“Most of us know it’s you,” I said. I was scanning the path behind him. It was deserted; no one else was out. If he tried anything, and I screamed . . . he could clap his hand over my mouth in a second.
“Oh, Linz. I haven’t got the energy.” He smiled ruefully. “And I’m too old for pranks.”
Pranks. God, was I so stupid? Was Mandy doing it all? Pulling one big uber-prank on the entire school?
Or is Belle?
Maybe Belle had come back to wreak revenge on the living. Maybe she wanted her story told, the guilty brought to justice, if only through the judgment of history.
“But she is the guilty one,” Celia said.
“What?” Miles said, narrowing his eyes. “Are you talking about Mandy? What’s wrong with your voice?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m cold,” I declared flatly.
“Then go and get a jacket,” he said. “And some better shoes. Not that those aren’t beautiful. I’ll wait.”
My eyes widened. Was he serious? “I’m not going anywhere with you. In fact—” I tried to push past him “—all I have to do is tell my dorm that you’re out here. And you’ll be going straight to hell.”
“Wrong. Been there. Got the T-shirt. Now I’m here.” He brushed his black- gloved hand over my lips. I jerked back my head. “And if you decide to hide out in Grose, I’ll still wait.”
“For what?”
“You.” He moved his shoulders as if to protest his innocence and gave me a lopsided smile, revealing his own white scar. It did look edgy, as he had said mine would look. “I think you’re kinda nifty.”
I shivered as if ice water had splashed down my spine. I wanted to come up with a sharp retort, but I was fresh out. Miles was diabolical. He was really, really good at scaring me.
“C’mon, admit it,” he said. “You’re a smart girl. Smart girls like smart guys. And I’m way smarter than Troy.”
“I don’t think Troy . . . ” makes out with his sister, I was about to blurt. Probably not the right thing to say to a psycho.
“I’ll go get that jacket,” I said.
He bowed with a flourish, stepping out of my way. I held my breath as I brushed past him, trembling, then opened our door and sailed inside. I leaned against it and closed my eyes. My body flooded with adrenaline and I shuddered for nearly half a minute. Then I propelled myself down the hall to find Julie.
She wasn’t in our room. Her top dresser drawer was open; a pink and silver scarf hung over the side. I asked; no one knew where she was, except that she’d left hours before and said she’d meet up with us at the dance.
Everyone else except Ms. Krige was there, trying on and rejecting outfits; spraying each other with perfume; borrowing makeup and jewelry. I returned Marica’s shoes and jewels and everyone else’s clothing; down to my panties and bra, I wrapped myself in Elvis’s fluffy sky-blue blanket and went back to my room. I crawled under the covers, watching the clock; it was eight thirty by then. I walked to the window and saw Miles standing on the porch of Jessel. He waved at me.
Was he even allowed on school property? Or, as usual, did the rules not apply?
“Hey, what’s up?” Claire said, hanging in my doorway. “You’d better hurry. We’re almost ready to go.”
I could keep my distance from Troy at the dance, but Miles appeared more than willing to invade my territory. Even if I locked all the doors and windows, I couldn’t be sure that I could keep him out. I’d have to rely on safety in numbers, then.
“Give me a minute,” I said, turning away from the window.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“HERE, WEAR THIS,” Ida ordered, bustling in with a very sexy, low-cut emerald green bubble dress, a pair of silvery tights with jewels creating seams up the backs, and yet another pair of arch-stretching heels, this pair silver.
“Dude, she’ll look like a Munchkin,” Claire protested.
“If she wears green, we have to take off her body jewelry,” Ida added. “Or she’ll look like a Christmas tree.”
“Let’s put her back in her dinner outfit,” Elvis said.
“She can’t dance in that,” Ida replied.
“Simple is best,” Marica declared. “American girls get too complicated. We’ll take all these colors away.”
Claire brushed her fingers against my cheek. “We have to leave on her jewels. She’ll look puffy if we take them off.”
They bustled around, and Marica sat on my bed with me for a few moments of quiet. She played with my hair, and then she smiled.
“Listen, Linz,” she began. “I think Troy is very nice, and I think he is trying very hard to let go of Mandy. I think you’ll win.”
“That’s very nice of you,” I said. My voice was a little shaky, and I cleared my throat. “But I’m not so sure.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve had a couple of little chats with him.” She wiggled her fingers as if to emphasize just how little they’d been. “To speak on your behalf.”
I burst out with a laugh, partly because I was so surprised and partly because of the way she put it, with her beautiful Mexican accent. She smiled gently, as if she knew I was a basket case, and tapped the cut on my cheek.
“We can conceal that,” she suggested.
“It’ll heal faster if we don’t.” I grimaced. “That sounds so deep and philosophical.”
“Don’t worry so much. You’re very beautiful. If you made an effort . . . ” She held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry, I won’t push my luck.” Then she kissed my cheek. “Tonight I think you’ll enjoy yourself very much.”
In the end, they left on my rubies and diamonds and put me in a slinky strapless black dress, no stockings, and strappy black heels. Marica added a silver cuff, which I clasped over my red thread, reluctantly leaving off my Tibetan prayer beads. I insisted on wearing my Doc Martens to the gym. And my too-cute parka from CJ. Suddenly I was determined not to dress to kill. I didn’t care if all these rich kids thought I looked low-rent. I was low-rent.
Then the five of us left Grose. I glanced at Jessel’s porch, to discover that Miles wasn’t there, and I wasn’t surprised. It wouldn’t be as much fun if I knew where he was. Or maybe he’d gotten tired of the game and had moved on. In a way, I was almost disappointed. If this was a power play, I wanted him to know not to mess with me. I didn’t want him to think I was scared. Though of course, I was.
As we slid through the snow, I looked at my excited, giggling friends and wondered if I should tell them what was going on. But I was afraid Miles would extract some kind of payback, and if that meant harming any of them—
“You will never guess who I saw lurking around after extracurriculars,” Claire told me. “Miles. He was waiting for Mandy. Who was not around.”
“Where’d she go?” Elvis asked.
“Out to buy some coke and pick up a sailor,” Ida snarked.
“Who cares?” Marica said, sniffing.
I licked my lips. “Miles confronted me. For going out with Troy.”
They all looked at me. Really looked.
“Oh my God,” Ida breathed. “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”
Claire gazed fearfully around. “Where?”
I was ashamed now, and mortified. Why hadn’t I told them? I was too used to keeping everything to myself, dealing with it alone. But every time I tried to get some help, my helper paid. Look at Julie. And Shayna.
And Kiyoko.
“I’m sorry. It was right outside Grose.” More staring, more dis
belief. “He was all dressed up. I think he’s going to the dance.”
“With a hatchet,” Claire said.
“And a chainsaw,” Ida put in.
“I swear I’m bringing a rocket launcher next year,” Claire muttered. “Or a bodyguard.”
“I’m not coming back next year,” Marica declared. She was looking around, peering at the shadows. “This place is too bizarre. But you should have told us, chica. We have a right to know if the Stalker is around.”
I apologized again, and we slid along to the gym, which was brilliantly lit with spotlights outside, the entrance bordered by six-foot-tall ivy topiaries shaped like hearts, festooned with white twinkle lights. Above the door, a vintage large plaster cupid was shooting a red fifties-style neon arrow that flew tick-tick-tick into the center of a glowing white heart. The freeze-frame movements of the arrow pulsed in time to the frenetic, booming beat inside the gym.
“When did they do all that?” Ida wondered aloud, as the anticipation of the dance began to overshadow their collective fear of Miles. “They must have hired some locals to do the set up.”
“There are no locals,” Elvis retorted. “We’re two hours from civilization.”
“Actually, there’s that resort near here.” I caught myself zipping and unzipping my parka. “Very fancy.” I didn’t think they used words like fancy.
“Oh, right, where Troy took you,” Claire said, and I nodded shyly.
We faced the gym. The music was practically blowing back my hair. I didn’t know Dr. Ehrlenbach had it in her, to let her students have a party that was actually teen-friendly.
“So . . . what do we do if Miles is in there?” Claire asked. “Linz, did you bring the crosses and holy water?”
Marica smacked her arm. “That’s not funny. He’s a menace.”
“It’s a public place,” Ida said. “What could happen?”
“I’m going in. I’m freezing out here,” Elvis announced, opening the gym door.
I twisted my little red thread. I couldn’t remember a single word of Hebrew. Or any of the words for any of the rituals for keeping the Devil at bay.
And then, as we swept into the gym, I could barely remember my own name. The vast, plain warehouse-like space had been transformed into a breathtaking fairy forest rich with the scent of honeysuckle. Both real and artificial trees rose to the vaulted ceiling of the gym; the artificial trees were purple, lavender, violet, and gray, with curling, mossy branches from which dangled thousands of heart-shaped leaves, shaking with the pounding bass of the music. Little cupids with wings and arrows darted on filament wires, appearing, reappearing, truly magical. The gym floor was covered with carpets painted with fallen purple and lavender leaves, from which rose fairy rings of giant glass mushrooms glowing with muted colored lights. The room was warm, and everywhere, people were taking off their coats, scarves, hats, and boots as they queued at a bastion of coat check tables.
There was a painted parchment scroll tacked to the nearest tree:
WHOSE WOODS THESE ARE, I THINK I KNOW.
HIS HOME’S ON MT. OLYMPUS, THOUGH . . .
“It’s a little bit mixed-mode,” Elvis said. “Fairy forest, Greek god of love . . . ”
“Maybe it’s Shakespearian,” Claire ventured. “Midsummer Night’s Dream . . . in the middle of winter. They definitely spent some major bucks.”
“Speaking of Greek gods,” Ida drawled, elbowing me. “Please, I’m begging you, lose the parka now.”
Through the trees, the main center of the gym was unadorned, except for a vast portable dance floor ringed by tables whose glass tops glowed with inset optical filaments. And seated at one of those tables was Troy, alone. We could see him, but he was unaware of us, and as my innocent girlfriends pushed me forward, my heart thundered. Could I have been wrong at the restaurant? Had he been humming a different song, but I was so jacked up and anxious I only thought I heard it?
Maybe Mandy’s been singing it and that’s where Troy picked it up, I thought, clenching my hands together. I had heard it a hundred times in the last four months. She must have, too.
We passed several glass tables loaded with Marlwood girls and Lakewood guys. I avoided looking at the reflective surfaces, and focused on Troy, who didn’t look like a guy who had broken up with his long-term girlfriend. Was Mandy even there yet? I didn’t see her, or her brother, Mr. Insanity Plea, anywhere. Maybe they wouldn’t show.
Maybe I was dreaming.
As we neared Troy, the girls bunched up behind me, as if they had to keep me from cutting and running. Preparing me for combat, Ida and Claire forced me out of my Doc Martens and into my heels. Then they stripped off my parka, leaving me half-naked in the tight black dress.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Claire muttered, examining the parka, “this thing is polyester.”
“Yeah, but Troy is 100 percent natural fibers,” Ida said. “What a fantastic tux.”
“Should we go with her to say hi, or leave our two lovebirds alone?” Elvis wondered aloud.
“Group,” I croaked.
“Why are you so nervous?” Ida asked. “You just spent three hours alone with him.”
“She wasn’t braless,” Marica declared. Then she slid a glance at me. “At least, not that we have heard about. I’ll put these in a bin for you,” she said, peeling off from the herd.
Then Dr. Ehrlenbach swept into my line of vision. Her dark hair was pulled back as tight as always, her face the same wrinkle-free mask. Red heart earrings of some kind of stone matched a red raw silk boat-neck blouse with three-quarter length sleeves and a draping black skirt that fell to the floor. Strands of sea pearls were wound around her neck like the colors on a barber pole, and I suppressed a giddy laugh at the thought. She was wearing silver cuffs with red enamel hearts on them, like handcuffs.
And she came fully accessorized with Miles.
He stood beside her, his coat and gloves off, in a black nubby sweater, a simple black belt, and black wool pants. Very Eurosophisticated, and the boy version of what I would wear if I had the clothes—off the grid, not quite playing. He wore his white-blond hair in a ducktail, and his icy eyes bored into me with unmasked pleasure. I had to admit there was something breathtaking about him.
“Lindsay,” Dr. Ehrlenbach said, “Miles was telling me about your discussion with him. I think it would be wonderful if you interned with one of their companies over the summer. If you went overseas, you could also do a language immersion.”
Ida made a choking sound. Marica dug her elbow into her side.
“We’ll just go dance,” Elvis announced, and they abandoned me, just like that.
“Dr. Ehrlenbach’s very excited about it,” Miles said, smiling at me.
“It’s very generous of your family.” Dr. Ehrlenbach’s face never changed, but she turned her head toward him; maybe that was her version of a smile. “An affiliation with the Winters name will open doors for our Lindsay.”
I am not yours. I am not.
“Let’s continue that discussion over a tango,” Miles said, coming toward me. He put one arm around my waist and took my other in his hand, ballroom style. His skin was warm and smooth. I had expected it to be cold. He smelled of clove cigarettes and wine.
Dr. Ehrlenbach moved aside to give us space to dance. The music blaring through the speakers was in no way, shape, or form a tango. It was weird and bouncy, and the vocals sounded like French.
“Welcome to my parlor,” Miles said. “You’re not shaking. I’m impressed.”
“I’m getting ready to stomp on your instep,” I informed him, and his smile could have lit up the room.
“Oh, spirited wench,” he drawled, “sarcasm poureth from thy lips as from others, sweet nothings.”
I ignored his joy in mangling Shakespeare. There was no way he could know that Romeo and Juliet was my favorite play in the entire world.
“What do you want? And what’s all this bogus crap you’re feeding Dr. Ehrlenbach?”
“Bad wor
ds. The weapons of anxiety.” He cocked his head. “No bogus crap. I think it’s a great idea. We’ve got a beautiful building in London. Comes with its own dungeon.”
“Where they keep you every full moon.”
He just smiled and moved me smoothly in a circle. I had the sense that we were actually performing some kind of specific dance, but I came from the shake-your-butt school, and I wouldn’t have known a tango from a waltz. Or maybe a rumba. I was aware that other people were watching. I turned my head slightly, looking for someone, anyone to save me. Dr. Ehrlenbach dipped her head in my direction, her seal of approval.
Then I saw Troy—or rather, the back of his head, and I started to pull away from Miles. Miles kept me close, and I glared at him. His eyelids drooped over his chilly eyes.
“Cocky, aren’t you?” he drawled, looking over my head in Troy’s direction. Then he smiled faintly.
I turned around and looked for Troy . . .
. . . Who had just begun to dance with Mandy. She was sleek in a thirties-style black satin halter dress with her hair wound into a smooth bun, and an oversized red rose tucked behind her right ear. And from the way she was smiling, it didn’t look like he was breaking up with her.
With the same cold and triumphant expression on her face, she looked straight at me. My cheeks burned. Then she pressed her bright red lips together and blew a kiss at Miles.
I broke from him and began to walk away, across the dance floor. Tears threatened to spill and I knew I had to get out of there. I didn’t want to go past Miles again, or Troy and Mandy, so I headed for the door that led into the pool room. I lifted my chin, holding my head high, my back to all of them. Let them bask in their dysfunction; let them go around and around in their stupid drama. I was out.
I was so out. When would I learn?
At least I got rejected by someone even cooler than Riley this time, I thought. But I didn’t think I was being funny.
I thought my heart was breaking.
TWENTY-EIGHT
DESPERATE to get out of there, I half-blindly pushed open the door on the opposite side of the gym. It read POOL NO ENTRY but no one stopped me as I crossed the threshold, hit by a blast of chlorine smell that mingled with the welling tears in my eyes.