Gravity

  "And there's just a small fracture at the top of the bridge," he said cheerfully, as if it were good news. Did he not see that I was a fifteen-year-old girl, not a college football player?

  "My nose is broken?" I asked, horrified.

  "Yes. But once it heals you shouldn't notice any difference in the way you look," he said dismissively before hurrying back out into the hall. Easy for him to say.

  "You'll be okay," Hugh said, his voice cracking.

  Hugh stopped at the drugstore on the way home, and stocked up on ice packs and tabloids, the best reading material when one is incapacitated. I watched farther down the street as the traffic lights turned green, yellow, red.

  "Does this mean I get to stay home tomorrow?" I asked when Hugh slid back in the car and plopped my haul on my lap. I began digging through the stuffed bag, immediately finding Twizzlers.

  "I suppose it does," he said with a tired, forced smile. I could tell he was worried, and I wanted to whisk that worry away.

  "You know, It doesn't even hurt now," I said softly. "You heard what he said, it'll heal soon."

  "You don't have to convince me, honey," Hugh said, patting my shoulder. His face was still tight and hard, jaw clenched.

  I leaned my head against the window as it bumped against the glass. My eyes kept sliding shut, lids heavy from a combination of swelling, tiredness, and medicine. I was suddenly very hungry but food sounded gross.

  By the time we got home it was dark, the stars twinkling benignly in the soupy sky. We went inside and Claire squeezed me in a tight hug. It was a rare show of affection for her; normally hugs and head pats only came on special occasions. I patted her back stiffly through her jacket.

  Pulling back, she inspected my face like Hugh had, her cold hands on my cheeks. Exchanging one of her glances with Hugh, they silently shared their worries.

  "I wanted to come to the hospital," Claire said apologetically. "I couldn't get off of work, and your father said it was all right. She looks awful, Hugh."

  "Thanks so much," I said, my voice stuffy from the cotton wads stuck up my nose.

  "She's fine, Claire. The doctor checked her out, he ran a head scan, and he didn't find anything to concern him. Her nose will heal. She's going to be okay."

  He couldn't stand still in the kitchen, tossing his keys on the counter and drumming his knuckles, then pacing over to the fridge and back. Unspent anger colored his cheeks.

  "Honey, why don't you go take a shower?" Claire said to me. That meant she wanted me out of the way so that they could argue. "The steam will probably make you feel better," she finished.

  The suggestion did sound heavenly. My spine ached from falling on the gym floor and laying in the hospital bed. Falling through the floor, my thoughts whispered. You fell through the floor and you saw...

  "Yeah, I think I'll do that," I said, willing my thoughts away. It was just a dream, no different than when I had dreamed of Jenna at the orphanage. So what if I had seen the ghost of a little girl merely a few days ago? That was a totally different experience.

  I knew I was fooling myself. Whatever fate had befallen Alyssa, there was a good chance the same thing had happened to Jenna. But I couldn't bring myself to try to dissect it now.

  I went into the downstairs shower, a towel slung on my arm. Hugh and Claire were talking in hushed voices, but I could still make out most of their words.

  "Is it dangerous for her to be at that school?" Claire asked.

  "I don't know," Hugh said after a moment.

  I paused, shivering in the bathroom even though it was warm. I hadn't thought about it like that. I turned the shower on hot, letting the steam fill the bathroom and fog up the mirror.

  "There's definitely favoritism," Hugh said. "The Thornhill reach extends all the way into the classrooms."

  "You really think it has to do with that silly committee?"

  Hugh didn't respond.

  I undressed and stepped into the shower. The throb of pain in my face was sharpening, meaning the painkillers were wearing off on schedule. I shampooed quickly, then just stood in the hot water. It felt good on my aching face.

  When I eventually finished and toweled off, I fully expected to hear Claire and Hugh yelling in the kitchen, possibly launching pots and pans. But silence greeted me. After I'd gotten dressed, I found the first floor was empty, the stove light the only one on. It must have meant they had retreated to their individual corners.

  A few pieces of baked chicken sat on a cookie sheet on the stovetop. I made myself a small plate, and while I didn't usually take food to my room, I figured this time would be all right. I trudged down the stairs with my tabloids and my food.

  It didn't take long after eating and taking my pills to fall asleep. The only nightmares I had that night involved Lainey's hateful eyes.

  CHAPTER 23

  I AWOKE IN the morning to find Hugh had already called in for both of us. There were also a few texts from Henry, wondering what had happened, if I had lost a limb or bled to death, if I was all right. I sent him back a reassuring message so that he would calm down.

  "What if Gwen needs you there?" I protested to Hugh at breakfast.

  "Gwen runs the place better than I do. Now eat," he replied.

  He slid two pieces of French toast from a skillet onto my plate. My favorite breakfast food since I was a little girl. I couldn't taste anything very well because of my nose, but it was still a nice change from plain cereal.

  I spent the day lazing about the house, watching daytime TV and putting together an old puzzle I found underneath the couch. I wondered what Theo was doing, hoping she was keeping her anger to herself.

  Around 3:30, I heard a knock on the front door. I got off the couch where I had been watching courtroom shows and answered it.

  Theo stood on the porch, her hands clasped demurely. She smiled sympathetically when she saw me. The world behind her looked inviting after being cooped up all day, even with the gray sky and cold ground. I didn't know how I'd lasted so long over the summer inside.

  "How are you?" she asked.

  "Bored," I said. "Come in. Did I miss anything at school?" I shut the door behind her, with one last longing look at passing cars.

  "No, nothing as exciting as yesterday," Theo said, taking off her sneakers. "You are the gossip around school, though." She ran a hand through her hair. "Henry asked me how you were; I thought you would want to know that."

  A little thrill went through me. "Oh."

  We sat down on the couch. It took a moment before either of us spoke. Theo picked up the cushion behind her and hugged it to her chest. Her admission yesterday about Jenna hung heavy in the air.

  "I wanted to check on you," she started. "But I also wanted to tell you more about what I said yesterday."

  I sat up straighter, bracing myself for whatever bad news she might share.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about seeing Jenna before," Theo said.

  "Are you sure it was her?" That was the biggest question that had been nagging at me. "You're absolutely positive that Jenna was the girl?"

  "Positive." Theo ran her finger along the hollow of her pale throat. "She was wearing a necklace with her name on it."

  Hope hidden inside of me deflated, right when I realized it was all that remained.

  "I gave her that necklace," I said. "For her tenth birthday. She gave me a turtle piggy bank." I didn't realize I was ripping a tissue to pieces until I noticed the mess on my lap. Scooping up the pile, I put it on my leftover plate on the table.

  "But I never saw her hang out with those girls, and she never told me they went anywhere together. We used to talk smack about them nonstop. I mean, they harassed us from the time we were little..."

  I knew no amount of rationalizing would help. I sat back against the couch cushions, turning the old coin again. Theo seemed on edge, and kept darting nervous glances my way.

  "She didn't do anything to me," Theo said finally. "It
was sort of how it was when you saw Henry stand by and watch that kid get beaten up. She didn't do anything wrong, really, but she didn't stop it, either. Maybe that wasn't her place."

  "What exactly happened?"

  Theo sighed, resting her hands on her knees. "I was at the mall with my mom, something I almost never do because I hate the mall with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. But she sent me off to pick out some summer clothes. I was walking, and I saw this group of girls all dolled up like they were going on dates. A voice in my head just whispered they were going to be trouble for me; it was like a flashback to middle school."

  "I'm sorry, if this is making you uncomfortable..." I began.

  Theo waved her hand dramatically. "No, no, it's fine. Good to get it out." She nodded as if agreeing with herself. "Yeah. Anyway, they just sort of stopped in the middle of the main walkway. It was busy, there were tons of people there shopping. So I went to go around them, and the blondest of them all—that's how I thought of Lainey at the time—stuck out her leg and tripped me. Very juvenile. But my leg twisted as I went down, and my ankle ended up being sprained."

  "And what did the other girls do?"

  "Madison laughed her hyena head off. Those eyes almost popped out and rolled around on the floor." She rubbed her knees again. "The lone brunette—Jenna, sorry, I give strangers nicknames—just looked at me with her mouth open."

  "That's all?"

  "That's all."

  I nodded. "Thanks for telling me. And I'm sorry that happened to you." As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was starting to think there were things about Jenna that I didn't know.

  ###

  I was ready to go back to school the next day. A lot of stares were aimed in my direction, but I clutched my books to my chest and did my best to ignore the inquiring eyes. In gym class, Coach insisted that I sit out even though I told her I was fine. I peered across the floor to the spot where I had fallen. The blood was all cleaned up, of course, but I could almost see it, a shiny crimson puddle.

  I didn't even look at Lainey and she ignored me in kind. We were instantly back into our old roles of popular girl and roadkill.

  At lunch, even though Theo had to serve her unfair lunch detention, I still sat in our old spot against the wall, enjoying my spooky spaghetti in peace. Theo had gathered up my homework from the day before and I was trying to blow through it as fast as possible, not wanting to fall behind.

  Henry suddenly crouched down in front of me. Oh no. I hadn't wanted him to see me like this. Texting about it was one thing, but seeing the actual nose brokenness...there was only so much I could hide with concealer.

  "Hi," I said, embarrassed. I tried ducking my head down, but my crouched position made it impossible.

  He remained where he was, shaking his head back and forth slowly. That didn't instill a lot of confidence in my appearance. "They weren't kidding," he said softly.

  I wished he would stop looking at my face. Why hadn't I armed myself with a paper bag?

  "What did the doctor say?" he asked.

  "I'm fine. It's not even that bad. Just looks ugly," I muttered.

  "Oh shut up," he scoffed lightly. "You're always beautiful, this doesn't change that fact."

  A thrill rushed through me, and I grinned up at him while he patted my nose with gentle fingers. My heart was dancing out a contorted rhythm underneath my shirt.

  "Did they give you painkillers?"

  I nodded.

  "Sweet," he said, grinning. "Gotta look at the benefits, right?"

  "Right," I said. I wanted urgently to kiss him again, even if it was in the middle of the noisy commons. But the dance seemed like it had been months ago. We hadn't discussed the kiss or the attraction between us.

  Henry looked at me for a long moment, and I thought he might actually read my mind and kiss me. Instead, he stood up swiftly and glanced back at the table he was sharing with Alex and a few of their male friends.

  "Well, I was just checking to make sure you were in one piece. I'll talk to you later, okay?" And he was gone, back to where his friends were waiting.

  It was the most recent of many times that I thought our relationship, as it were, had finally progressed into something more than friends. But I still wasn't entirely sure what I meant to him.

  He definitely seemed to care about me, and there was a real attraction between us. But he kept his maddening distance. He always went back to his world.

  ###

  Although Lainey and Madison carried on relentlessly with their missing girl's committee, stopping people in the hallways and handing out information cards, not much came from it. I wished that Alyssa's ghost had told me more; now all kinds of questions nagged me. Was she the one who had been banging on the walls and whispering? There had been no more noises in my room, but it wasn't the first time they had stopped temporarily.

  I didn't understand why Alyssa would appear to me of all people. To my knowledge, I had no connection to her. I'd never met her in real life, and I was pretty sure that all the times I'd seen her were after her death. The biggest questions were how she had died and why she kept messing with Hawthorne's lights. Accepting that I'd seen Alyssa's ghost didn't make those mysteries any less frustrating.

  In homeroom, a girl who sat behind me was talking about how her father moderated the police department tip site. Those sitting around her were listening intently to her words.

  "The missing child inquiry is clogged," she said, apparently enjoying her short time in the limelight. I turned back around in my seat, but kept listening intently. "They've been getting a bunch of false leads and prank submissions, hundreds a day to sort through. Every lead they've followed has been a dead end. The PD is talking about involving the state, maybe going on the national news. The mayor wants to keep it quiet, though, says it's bad for tourism."

  I knew that Jenna's profile had blown up, clogged with posts from various people with clues and bogus "tips." At first I had been extremely excited, until I started scrolling through them and saw that it was a bunch of garbage. The page had been cleared out and shut down, with a note to contact the Hell Police Department directly.

  I tried not to look at the flyers, but I gravitated towards them. Jenna's face seemed to follow me everywhere. Her ink eyes reminded me of how black they were in my vision. The possibility that she really might be dead like Alyssa loomed large, but I just couldn't accept it without proof.

  The lights began flickering often in school, and no one could figure out the cause of it. No one but me, but I couldn't tell. The inconvenience drove everyone nuts, especially the teachers. Electricians still hadn't been called, and even though we kept hearing it would happen during the morning announcements, there was always an excuse as to why no electrical crew showed up.

  "This is no way to conduct school," Warwick muttered after another blackout. "How is anyone supposed to learn in turtle soup?"

  I was watching him with my chin propped on my hands. Frowning at his words, I pushed the strange feeling aside as he went back to his lecture.

  The only teacher who didn't seem to be affected was Ms. Fellows. Her projector would shut off, and she would merely stare at the roll down screen, blinking, until the power came back on.

  After class late in the week, Mr. Warwick pulled me aside. My nose was healing pretty fast, although it was still so bruised that my caked on foundation was necessary.

  "Great job on the test, Ariel, really," he said. I had gotten an A on practically every history assignment I'd completed, but it still gave me an accomplished feeling. Seeing the big red letter on the page brought me back to first grade, when every check plus made me feel smart.

  He sat on the edge of his desk, analyzing me with cautious gray eyes. Warwick felt like an uncle to me, closer even than Aunt Corinne, and I'd gone to him several times as a kid when I'd broken something or skinned my knee. Still, that was the past, and as I'd grown older we'd started to begin the descent into strangers.


  "It must be hard for you," he said finally, crossing his arms. I noticed that his pale blue shirt looked wrinkled, like he didn't own an iron or didn't know how to use one.

  "What's hard for me?" I asked. My eyes found the globe behind his shoulder and focused there, picking out England, Spain, China.

  "Seeing your friend's face all over school," he said. "You've been doing great in my class, but I can tell that you're upset. You don't interact much with the other students. You don't ever raise your hand even though I know you know the answers."

  "I don't have anything to say," I said, shifting my binder from one arm to the other. I was very uncomfortable with heartfelt talks. My heart could stay right off my sleeve and inside my chest. "I prefer to write my answers down."

  "I just wanted to let you know if you ever need anything, there are people you can trust," he said. "I'm one of them. Your dad and I have been friends for many years. You could tell me anything that was bothering you. I could be your private ear."

  His head was tilted to the side, wide eyes staring at me intently despite the placid grin on his face. It struck me in that moment as sort of spooky, although I dismissed the feeling. I had just been thinking about how Warwick was like an uncle, and now I was spooked? Definitely ghosts on the brain.

  Still, he wasn't blinking. I mumbled my appreciation, looking at the floor. I was suddenly feeling very weirded out, and I wanted to get out of there. Whether it was my own imagination or not.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "So is there anything you want to share?" he asked. Twinkling eyes still wide, the weird placid grin remained firmly on his thin mouth. His head was tilted to the side, making it look like his neck was broken.

  "No, not right now," I said.

  "Okay," he said, jumping off of his desk. "Just wanted to let you know that I was there. Go on off to class now, I'll write you a hall pass."

  I took the pass and walked out of his classroom. As soon as I was away from him, I berated myself for reading into things. And why, because Warwick was blinking a little less than normal? Maybe he had eye trouble.

  In all honesty, I couldn't stand being talked to in such a saccharine tone. Maybe that was what squicked me. Did that make me ungrateful?