Gravity

  Time had lost all sense of meaning. I saw the basement around me, and then I was up in the teacher's lounge. I didn't know how long I'd been there, I just realized that I was sitting at their table, staring at the vending machines. I kept thinking I heard Warwick's voice, far away but distinct. Yet when I listened harder, there was no one speaking.

  Henry was next to me, as he had been the whole time, rubbing my back, my shoulders. His hands hadn't left my body. It seemed like it should be nighttime, but school bells still rang faintly in the halls at steady intervals.

  "How long have we been here?" I asked Henry.

  His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. "Not as long as you think."

  I stood up, stretching my compacted legs. At the counter, I poured a cup of disgustingly strong coffee from the pot. I felt cold inside, and the heat helped as I gulped it down, tasting its burnt flavor. I realized as I sat again that this was not my first cup today.

  "You need to slow down or your heart is gonna explode from the caffeine buzz," Henry said, putting his hand over the cup and moving it away.

  The door opened, and I expected another police officer. A tall, well-dressed man strode into the room, clutching a tan briefcase. Henry's eyes widened, as though he'd seen a terrorist.

  "Is that another cop?" I asked wearily.

  "That's my father," Henry said. I studied the man closer now, shocked.

  "I just heard," Phillip Rhodes said in a robust voice. His facial features were quite a bit like Henry's: the same nose, the same full mouth. But I could tell he had a different type of personality. Phillip seemed aloof and sly, definitely fitting the lawyer image.

  "So you rushed over here," Henry mumbled. He'd suddenly gotten very quiet and withdrawn. He had snatched his hands back, and they were now in his lap.

  "Of course I did. That pig Warwick, he was always a loose cannon. Let's get going, Henry."

  Phillip's words seemed strange. I wasn't aware he'd known Warwick. They didn't seem to be the type to run in the same circles. Hell's neighborly ways again, I supposed. Henry started to stand, and I jumped up too, taking a cue from Theo and extending my hand to Phillip.

  "I'm Ariel Donovan," I said, my voice too peppy due to the coffee and the giddy stress of almost being shot. "Nice to finally meet you."

  Phillip smiled politely at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes. I've heard about you. Good to know that you two are all right."

  "It's also good to put a face to Henry's Lexus chauffeur," I joked, but it came off flatly. Phillip's smile tightened. He put his brawny hand, the fingers clad in gold bands, on Henry's shoulder.

  "Tell your little friend goodbye, son."

  "Yes, sir," Henry said, his eyes cast downward. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but in light of the situation, this was probably just how Henry dealt. "Goodbye, Ariel."

  Phillip led him away out the door. I wanted to reach out to Henry; I wanted to keep him with me. I was suddenly frantic, but there was nothing I could do. I've lost him, I thought, as I had early on when I'd seen him surrounded by popular kids. But he was only going home.

  Yeah, and Jenna was supposed to be back before midnight.

  He disappeared out the door, with one final, sad look in my direction.

  CHAPTER 28

  MY PARENTS ARRIVED just minutes after Phillip and Henry departed, so soon that they must have passed each other in the hall. I warned them that I'd had about twelve cups of coffee, but they didn't react.

  They took turns throwing their arms around me and sobbing into my hair. I wanted to ask them to stop doing it, but I didn't want to come off as rude. If my kid had almost been shot, I would have wanted to hug her, too.

  I rode home in the backseat. Claire kept glancing back at me, thinking I didn't notice. Hugh was crying silently, sniffling and wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. I couldn't take that, the sight of my father in tears. I shut my eyes.

  The coffee must have been decaf. I'd never been so tired or detached in my life. When we got home, no one wanted to cook anything, and no one wanted to eat. Bed came early, and I fell into a dead sleep.

  School shut down for a week, to help assist in the police investigation. McPherson appeared on a news conference, looking very surprised that all of this had happened while he was away. Various theories were expounded over why and how Warwick had done it. My theory was that he'd lost his marbles. All of his final rambling had led me to believe he'd been dabbling in the occult in his free time. The police seemed to agree.

  But how did McPherson fit? I couldn't forget his strange meeting, the odd smell coming from the shed behind his house...yet he seemed to not be involved. He had been out of town, after all. So I tried not to think about him.

  I didn't know what to do with all the time off. There was nothing to distract me from thinking. All of my usual pastimes were too intertwined with death.

  There had been no sign of Jenna in that horrible basement. Just more confirmation that everyone had been right. She had abandoned me.

  Although there was relief that she had apparently not been murdered, there was no sense of closure. If that made me selfish, than so be it. I checked my email every day, as automatically as brushing my teeth, hoping maybe she'd get a hold of me. No note ever came.

  I pictured Jenna in gigantic designer knockoff sunglasses, a floppy hat over her curls, mugging for a camera. She could easily be residing in Las Vegas or Hollywood now.

  Still questions lingered about my visions. Why had I seen her among the ghosts? Why had her eyes been black? Maybe the head trauma had made me hallucinate.

  I sent texts to Henry, but he didn't reply. I tried calling him several times when my resolve broke down, but he sent me to voicemail. I thought back to the haunted look in his eyes when his father told him to tell me goodbye. But I was too drained to analyze his up and down evasiveness. Avoidance was how he dealt with being overwhelmed, just as I had done before. He would come to me when he was ready.

  Theo visited almost every day. We had sleepovers in the living room, with me on the couch and Theo on the recliner beside me. I didn't have any dreams at all, scary or regular variety. Whether Theo's presence was what kept the dreams at bay, or whether the whole nightmare was finally over, I couldn't tell. We didn't talk much, but her company was welcome.

  It was even stranger going back in school, as it had been the first day. Like sleepwalking. Having all that time off just made stepping inside more surreal. But I told myself that this could be a fresh start. Maybe things could get better now—maybe I could move on, instead of being obsessed by death.

  I was walking to homeroom on Monday, lost in thought. My classmates had treated me with a kind of reverence so far, which made me uncomfortable. At first that disquiet masked another, deeper buried feeling. But then I shuddered. It was as though someone had walked over my grave. I had the strongest feeling that something was wrong.

  I quickly, almost frantically, brushed it off. I stopped in the middle of the emptying hallway, my hands clutching my backpack straps. Everything was okay now, I assured myself.

  I rounded the corner of the hall and stopped dead in my tracks.

  At first, I didn't believe what my eyes were seeing. My brain didn't know how to process the elements of the picture, which seemed so out of place and wrong, like looking at torn pieces of a photograph.

  Henry and Lainey were in the hall by her locker, talking intimately. Her hands grasped the lapels of his shirt. She squished herself so close to him a piece of paper wouldn't have slid between them.

  As I stood there, mute with shock, she reached up and kissed him on the lips. I thought he'd push her away, rebuke her, spit on her even. But as my blood ran cold, I saw him reciprocate, the sickening look of his mouth moving. I could see her tongue poking past his lips, the lips I'd been obsessed with, suffered with want for, treasured every kiss from.

  My throat ran dry, tasting betrayal. Lainey broke off the embrace, smiling
brightly. Her beautiful, evil doll face was full of adoration and triumph. She waved him goodbye and then sauntered off to class, her golden hair swishing down her back.

  I walked up to him, my legs barely able to support me. This was a sick joke. It had to be the sickest joke ever. After all that we'd been through, all that we'd seen...

  "What the hell was that?" I demanded, shaking so hard I thought I would erupt. My vision kept doubling, and my cheeks burned hot.

  He jumped, having not realized I was there. That hurt even worse. "Ariel..." he muttered, his face registering something like guilt before quickly smoothing out, like a wave over sand, into a flat bank. "What are you doing? Were you watching us?"

  "Yeah, I saw you. And I want to know what you were doing."

  He cleared his throat. His voice was monotone as he stared deeply into my eyes. "Lainey and I are together now, Ariel. I'm sorry. I know it's out of the blue. But it's for the best. It's a good match."

  I felt all the blood flee my head for other destinations. I swayed on my feet, my arms loosening around my books. But I wouldn't give him the evident satisfaction of seeing me fall apart and faint.

  "Who are you?" I spat acidly. "What is this?"

  "I wanted to tell you before you saw," Henry said, running his hand through his stupid hair. "I didn't want you to find out this way."

  "Why would you even care?" I asked. I was swaying, shaking more. It took everything I had not to lose my grip. But I could fall apart once he was out of sight.

  "I should never have wormed my way into your life," he said bluntly. "You told me once that we lived in different worlds. You were right...we're not meant to be together."

  "Where is this coming from?"

  "I just woke up, that's all."

  He turned and without a second glance, shuffled away from me. I couldn't look away from him until he had turned the corner.

  The shaking brought me to my knees. Pressure in my chest became a hole. Henry had taken whatever I had left with him.

  I thought I was alone. But then I heard a voice I never expected. "Well, wasn't that a heap of shit, little mermaid."

  I turned around, and saw Ambrose Slaughter leaning up against the lockers. His mass of blonde curls glowed, his arms crossed tightly over his muscled chest. He had a cigarette in his hand, and he took a deep inhale, blowing a puff of white smoke directly at the security camera overhead.

  Before I might have been afraid; after all, he had threatened me several times. But by his relaxed stance, I knew I was in no danger. And I was too numb to care about self-preservation.

  "Are you talking to me?" I asked.

  He ignored my question. "I never trusted him," he said, not making eye contact. He'd never spoke a word to me that wasn't laced with malice. "Not one bit. I know a scam artist when I see one; my dad is a great example."

  "I did. I trusted him," I said quietly.

  The bell rang, but I didn't move. I had half a mind to ditch altogether, run outside underneath the security cameras, now that I'd picked up on where the blind spots were from Henry and my snooping in the office.

  Ambrose assessed me then, his jutting jaw and handsome features hard. He tucked the cigarette between his lips.

  "That's your first mistake. Never trust people like us. It's dog eat dog, and leads to nothing but getting hurt. Especially for girls. You get too emotionally attached to people."

  "You're just an expert on love now, huh?" I asked through gritted teeth. Though I was weirdly fascinated that he was speaking to me, I also wanted to slap him.

  "Take it from me—don't fall in love so easily. I learned that the hard way. You have to cut that part right out of you." His fingers were scissors, cutting the air.

  Inhaling one more time from his cigarette, he dropped it on the floor and stubbed it out with his dirty loafer. Then he strolled off down the hall, whistling.

  I spent all of the next two periods in the bathroom. I couldn't cry, so it felt as though my face was going to explode. But I couldn't function, either. If I'd had to try and act normal, paying attention to the blackboard and answering questions, I would have collapsed.

  When I finally did make it to class, I kept my eyes straight the entire time, and zoned out as much as possible. Theo had already heard about Lainey by the time that art class arrived. With permission from her mother, she took me down to the counseling office, where I sat in the waiting area with her until the final bell rang. She patted my back and made me color in one of a pile of coloring books on national landmarks.

  "Coloring is soothing," Theo told me, pressing crayons into my hand.

  I eyed her skeptically. "I can't stay inside the lines."

  "You're missing the point," Theo said gently, putting her crayon tip on her own book. They were giving them out for free, and since it was a high school, there was a stack of them. "The point is not to care."

  I didn't want to go to school the next day. But I also didn't want to give Lainey the satisfaction of seeing that I was missing. And I knew she was paying attention. She knew she'd won.

  I'm waking you up in the morning. Wear something sexay, Theo texted me that evening, banishing any plans I'd formed. Jealousy is the best payback.

  I don't own anything sexy. I own t-shirts, I wrote back quickly.

  Tight t-shirt. Several sizes too small. Shovel on the black eye shadow.

  Any other time I would have laughed, and I appreciated greatly how much she was supporting me and trying to force me out of my funk. She had been the one with the smarts to tell me there were other handsome boys in school, not to get so hooked on Henry. If only I had listened to her advice, I would have skipped so much hurt, or so I tried to tell myself.

  The truth was it would have hurt either way, with or without him.

  "I can't believe I was so stupid," I told Theo in gym class. I was not, in fact, wearing an abnormally tight shirt.

  "You weren't stupid. He was a good actor. I never would have guessed he was a jerk, he seemed like an okay dude."

  "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

  "No, I mean it. But you can't always tell. Look at Alex."

  "If that's your point prover, I don't think it's working."

  "He's not so bad once you get to know him. But I never would have given him a chance if we weren't thrown together via weird circumstances."

  "You mean my weird circumstances."

  "Well, it's not every day your buddy asks you to chat with dead people. But that's what I love about you, Ariel. You're loopy. I'm loopy. We can be loopy together."

  "Thanks. I am done with boys, forever. There is too much drama," I said. "When Henry is the ass, and I'm getting dating advice from Ambrose Slaughter, it is time to throw in the towel of romance."

  "The towel of romance? That's a little gross," Theo said, trying to make me laugh. She had this horrible sympathetic look in her green eyes that spoiled the effect.

  We were performing belly dancing to an instructional DVD while Coach Fletcher updated charts on the sidelines. Lainey looked so incredibly smug; it took everything I had not to track down a tennis ball.

  It felt so surreal, like any moment the truth would reassert itself. I'd dreamed uncommonly vivid dreams before. But as time passed, the startling realization asserted itself that this was the truth.

  "It is time for thirty cats," I said.

  "I wouldn't go that far yet," Theo said, laughing gently. She rotated her hip in a circle, but she went a bit too far, wobbling and falling into me. I crashed onto my butt, with Theo right next to me, almost draped in my lap.

  I exchanged a glance with her, and we couldn't help but burst out laughing simultaneously. The rest of the class turned their heads, looking at us like we'd lost our minds.

  Lainey wrinkled her nose at me, and when Coach's back was turned, I flipped her off. She tossed her hair dramatically, but turned away. This only made Theo giggle more. Laughter was a release, of all the tension and the
pain that had been festering in my belly the last week.

  I didn't notice Nurse Callie come into the room. I was paying too much attention to our clumsiness. But I saw her now as she and Coach Fletcher came over to where Theo and I were helping each other to our feet. Coach's face was more serious than usual, which was saying something for someone so humorless.

  "Ariel, I'm here to take you to the office," Nurse Callie said.

  I looked between their faces. "Am I in trouble?" I asked, the humor instantly dying from my lips.

  "No, honey," Callie said. She was very quiet. "Don't worry about changing. Just come with me."

  I looked back at Theo, her frown mirroring my own. Everyone in class was still looking at us, the joyous belly dancer on the television unaware that she was dancing alone.

  I walked with Nurse Callie to the office. It had already been a surreal nightmare of a week, and it was only Tuesday. How could anything else go wrong? The universe couldn't be that unfair.

  Hugh and Claire were standing in front of the reception desk when Callie and I arrived.

  "Everyone looks so serious," I said, trying to break the ice. They just looked at me solemnly.

  "What are you doing out of work, mom? Did something happen?" She didn’t correct me calling her that. This couldn't be good. My parents looked at each other, at Callie. No one was telling me anything, and fear began to creep up on me.

  "Tell me what it is," I said, panic rushing upwards inside my chest.

  But some part of me knew.

  I had known the words were coming all along.

  "They found Jenna," Hugh said, his voice cracking. It struck me as funny. She'd always driven him nuts. "She's dead."

  The entire world shrunk down to the badly lit office. Everything I'd done and every word I'd said in the last few months. A distracting prickle hit the back of my eyes. I wiped off my cheek, and my hand glistened.

  I was crying.

  EPILOGUE

  I COULDN'T GET my seatbelt to buckle. I kept fumbling with the metal clip, thinking it was sliding home, only to realize I'd missed the slot. I finally abandoned my effort. If I flew through the windshield, that would be that. A rain of glass, a rich splash of blood. The crack of my head against the pavement like an egg. Goodbye Ariel, everybody dies.