Book of Revenge

  Wes:

  “Here,” I handed Lacy the costume Emily had handed me. They’d warmed up to each other, but not enough to yet transfer gifts hand to hand. I was still the mediator.

  “What’s this?”

  “A witch costume,” Emily answered for me, her head still buried in the wooden chest of costumes we’d found in the attic.

  “Witch?” Lacy’s nose crinkled. “So cliché. Don’t you have anything better?”

  Emily sat up, something pink and purple in her hand. “Of course I do, but I’m wearing it. Besides, a witch suits you perfectly.”

  Lacy grumbled and marched to the other side of the room, holding the witch costume up in front of her. “I don’t even want to go to this stupid thing.”

  “Then don’t,” I interjected, growing tired of her constant pessimism.

  Stella was perched on another trunk in the corner, her eyes closed, unconcerned by the drama that was unraveling before her—apparently she was used to it happening, and that’s what scared me.

  “Here, Wes, catch.” Emily tossed a wad of green fabric at me. I caught it just before it hit me in the face. “And what is this?”

  “Peter Pan.”

  Lacy turned back to us, giggling. “I guess maybe I don’t have the worst costume, then.”

  I unraveled the fabric, pulling at a bit of plum colored nylon that turned out to be the leggings. “Seriously?”

  Emily turned and smiled a smile that was full of recollection. “It was my father’s once. I was a lost child that year, and he was my Peter Pan.”

  I shut my eyes, seeing there was no way around this. Lacy was still giggling lightly, though her back was turned, her hands untangling a black wig.

  “What time does this thing start?” I was stretching the purple leggings, hoping they wouldn’t castrate me by the end of the night.

  “Eight.” Emily had a small grin on her face, the faerie wings in her hands unfolding as she straightened the wires. “Isn’t it funny? Here I am, about to wear faerie wings and they’re nothing like what real faeries are like. I should have feathers in my hair and tattoos across my skin.”

  “People would think you were a biker-bird,” I added.

  Emily’s energy only grew more excited. “I know! But that’s what the fairies in Winter Wood are like.”

  Emily couldn’t get enough of Winter Wood. We’d gone there every day after school with Jane and Navia for a snack at the café. I wasn’t too keen on it, but watching Jane’s new friend made it worth the trip. It’s not that I had a crush on her or anything, it’s just that, well, she was breathtakingly gorgeous. It was like staring at a real life swimsuit model, only better. Luckily, I kept these thoughts in the vault of my mental mansion, behind a lead door that was three feet thick. I couldn’t risk having Emily hear them, and I couldn’t stop thinking them if I tried. Pixies had that effect, I guess.

  “Emily!” Emily’s mother called from the bottom of the attic ladder. “You’re friend is here!”

  Emily’s face popped out of the chest once more. “Jake’s here,” she announced a second time, as though we hadn’t heard.

  “Clearly,” I murmured.

  Emily ignored me and went back to rummaging in the chest, pulling out a black, furry lump of fabric. My brows were pressed together with interest.

  Footsteps ascended the ladder, and Jake’s head popped through the hole in the floor. Since he’d revealed himself to us, I’d grown used to seeing the shiny eyed, clean cut version of Jake, but today it was all nerd, and he’d laid it on thick. A pair of suspenders held his pants above his waist, his glasses like thick picture frames around his dull, green eyes. “Hey, guys.” His braces made his voice wet and annoying.

  “Hi, Jake.” Emily didn’t seem to care whether he was the nerd or the suave vampire. To me it just meant she didn’t find him attractive like every other soul in Winter Wood seemed to—that was all that mattered. Because he was a non-threat, I could be friendly to him.

  “Here,” Emily tossed him the wad of fur.

  “What’s this?”

  “A gorilla.”

  An uncontrolled snort escaped my lips like a laugh. Peter Pan suddenly seemed like designer duds in comparison. Sucked to be him.

  Jake glared at me for that comment. “I’ll sweat to death in this,” he protested.

  Emily shrugged. “But I figured this way you wouldn’t have to wear the getup,” she motioned to the glasses on his face. “You can hide behind the mask instead.”

  Jake grumbled, but conceded, trying on the mask that covered his head in a layer of black fur. Lacy eyed him sideways, and then leaned away. I’d told her about what Jake was, and she wasn’t too excited by it. She’d told me about shifters who had been attacked by vampires in Washington, thinking they were animals but quickly discovering otherwise. By then, it was too late to save the shifter.

  Jake removed the mask and eyed Lacy in return. “Don’t worry, darlin`. I don’t like poultry, either.”

  Lacy frowned, her cheeks turning a bright red that was accentuated by her fiery hair. “Good,” she grumbled. “Imp,” she added under her breath.

  “Have you ever met a real imp?” Jake shot back. “You’d reconsider your accusation if you did.”

  “Ass,” Lacy didn’t care what it meant.

  Jake shrugged. “That’s gettin` better, a mule.”

  “What about Jane and Navia?” I asked innocently.

  Emily looked up, a frown replacing her smile. “What about them?”

  “Are they coming?” I refused to look at her, afraid she’d find a way into my vault.

  Emily slammed the chest of costumes shut. “Yeah.”

  Her anger wasn’t directed at me, but rather the names themselves. I grew curious. Drawing closer as Jake and Lacy continued their banter, I whispered, “What’s wrong?”

  Emily was furiously detangling something in her hands, the wings she’d flattened now attached to her back by two loops of elastic around her arms. “Something about Navia bugs me. I don’t like what she’s doing to Jane.”

  “You mean all the makeup?”

  Emily’s eyes met mine. “Yeah, the makeup, the… I dunno.”

  I brushed my hand across her face, drawing her attention away from the tangle in her hands. I leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. “Don’t worry so much. You’re starting to sound like Jane.”

  “Ewwww…” Lacy squealed from across the room. “I told you guys to stop doing that kissy stuff in front of me.”

  I looked toward her, seeing that Jake also appeared awkwardly disturbed by our display of affection.

  “In front of us,” Jake added.

  “Sorry.” A half smile lifted my cheek.

  Emily blushed with embarrassment, once again fumbling with the fabric and turning away. Jake and Lacy had their costumes just about on.

  “Help me?” Lacy turned her back to Jake, exposing the unzipped zipper of her muumuu-like black frock. I was amazed to see them working together.

  “And Max?” Emily whispered.

  I turned back to her. She had given up on the fabric.

  I shrugged. “I still haven’t seen him.”

  “I wish I knew what happened.” She pulled her hair back in a pony tail, fastening it with a sparkly clip.

  Max and Jane’s supposed split was something we’d all been obsessing over all week. Jane’s explanation at lunch on Monday had given us zero leads, and we couldn’t understand why something so seemingly perfect could end so fast.

  I shrugged. “Maybe Max will be there tonight. Then we can ask him. I’m much more comfortable asking him, you know, man to man and all.”

  “So now you’re willing to talk to him.” Emily sighed. “Regardless, I doubt he’ll be there.” She looked at her watch and sighed again. “We should get going.”

  A chill ran down my spine, remembering my first and only party experience a few weeks ago, when Greg had shown his first signs of provable insanity with Emily’s friend, Alexis. She
hadn’t been the same since, and her parents ended up removing her from school all together, not that that act alone hadn’t done the school some good. Emily picked up on my apprehension.

  “He’s gone, Wes. This party will be much more normal, I swear. Come on. Let’s go.” She stood and met Jake and Lacy, ushering them down the ladder.

  I went down last, shutting the attic latch behind us. Fully dressed a few minutes later, we all met in the hall for pictures.

  “You guys look great!” Emily’s mother exclaimed, snapping photos from low, then high, having us sit on the stairs. “What’s your name again, sweetie?”

  “Jake.” Jake’s voice was muffled by the mask.

  “Give me a big grrrrr.”

  Jake obliged.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mom. We really need to go.” She took the camera from her mother’s hands, placing it on a nearby table.

  “Awe… Bye, guys. Have fun!” She wiped her nose with a tissue, looking as though she was going to cry, though it was more likely just the remnants of the flu she’d had.

  We all piled in my car, and on the way to the party, Jake was already complaining.

  “I feel like my butt is swimming in sweat,” he disclosed from the backseat.

  I heard Lacy gag slightly. Stella was perched between them and even she was leaning away from Jake at this point—no deodorant would have been strong enough to stifle the scent. We all laughed except Emily. She had remained distant since the conversation in the attic.

  “Here!” Lacy squealed, making me jump. “This is so the place!”

  I looked where she was, seeing a house up ahead, swarming with teenagers in any array of costumes.

  “This is so awesome,” Lacy added. “My first human party!”

  “Sure, now you’re excited,” I teased.

  Lacy shrugged. “A girl is allowed to change her mind.”

  I parked on the street and shut off the car. “It’s not that great,” I mumbled.

  Jane:

  “Really, being Disney princesses feels a little young to me, don’t you think?”

  Navia fanned me away with her hand. “Pish posh, darling. I’ve been around much longer than you and I know for a fact that Disney Princesses are the best princesses in the world, except for us, of course!”

  We were crammed into Navia’s other car, her white BMW sedan. Why we didn’t just take the Tahoe was beyond me. We stopped at a light, our blue and yellow dresses like layers of meringue. I felt funny, but I knew that every year the senior class went overboard with their Halloween party—hopefully this meant I would be fitting in with an outfit like this, unlike my dress in this car.

  The light turned green and we turned onto the streets of suburbia. I had no idea where we were, but Navia seemed to know her way as though there was also a GPS embedded in that perfect, little head of hers. Soon, the loud pump of music began to shake the car and I knew we were close. Turning another corner, our destination was obvious. We drove past rows of cars I was used to seeing in the school parking lot, now lined down the street. Each car we passed was a reminder of just how far I would have to hobble in three inch heels. Navia had to fight to find a spot. After what felt like miles, we at last parked. Navia backed against the curb without utilizing her mirrors, ever aware of her surroundings as though every move was a well choreographed dance at the ballet.

  She shut off the car. I popped open the door, feeling like I’d just opened a can under pressure. The hoops of my ridiculous Belle costume nearly sprung me right out and onto the sidewalk. Navia’s Cinderella dress naturally flowed in comparison as she gracefully spun out on her side of the car. Her curls bounced, so perfect and platinum it was as though Cinderella Barbie had suddenly become life-sized. If I could walk her through Disney World at this moment, packs of screaming girls would surround her, demanding an autograph.

  I tried to steady myself as best I could, hobbling to meet Navia near the bumper. She took my arm, nearly lifting me off the ground as she did so and making walking so much easier.

  “Better?” She wasn’t even struggling to hold my weight.

  I nodded. “Much.”

  We pranced toward the house at an alarming rate. The smile on Navia’s face looked permanently carved there, just like a Barbie’s would be. I saw Wes’s car parked thirty cars closer to the house, and wondered how early he’d arrived to snag such a spot. Reaching the door, the pounding music penetrated my soul. Navia simply walked in, demanding attention as she swept into the front hall. It was as though she were arriving at her own personal ball. I felt grand on her arm as everyone seemed to stare.

  “Jane!” I heard Emily’s voice above the music, the crowd pushing and shoving until her red hair burst through, wings on her back.

  Navia released my arm, floating into the crowd and chatting with Liz, who looked noticeably angry about Navia’s matching Cinderella attire and the fact that Navia looked infinitely better in it.

  “What are you doing here?” I frowned at Emily, so used to her old partying ways that I instinctually feared a night of endless stress. Then I remembered that she was with Wes—a senior, and a responsible one at that.

  “I’m with Wes and Jake,” she grumbled, clearly irritated by my accusations. “When are you going to get over it and accept the new me, Jane, seriously?”

  I ignored her. “Where’s Wes?”

  Just then Peter Pan broke through the crowd and approached us. I laughed.

  “Right there,” Emily giggled.

  I looked at Wes’s purple tights. “Nice.”

  Wes grumbled. “Are you here alone?”

  Emily took his arm, leaning against him with a smile and answering for him. “No. She’s here with Navia.”

  I saw Wes’s eyes twinkle slightly, a hidden joy glowing somewhere deep inside. He was a man, and like every man I’d seen in the vicinity of Navia, they all fell hopelessly in love her.

  Emily bit her lip, and I knew what question would come next. “And Max?”

  I drew in a deep breath, my hands gripping at the mass of yellow sateen that was draped from my waist. All I could do was shake my head.

  Wes puffed out his chest a little, looking as though he was trying to summon strength. “What happened, Jane? Spill. It’ll make you feel better.”

  I felt the chains wrap around me—I was out of excuses.

  Emily touched my arm. “Come on. I hate to see you like this, and truthfully, we miss Max, too. It’s not that Navia isn’t great, it’s just…” Her voice trailed, and I sensed a familiar feeling of disappointment from her.

  I swallowed, gathering my emotions and packing them up like a parcel for the mail, ready to give it to them straight. “I told him to leave.”

  Emily gasped, quickly cupping her hand over her mouth. Did she have to be so dramatic?

  “Why?” she crooned.

  I played with a ruffle near my waist. “It turns out that as his guarded, he and I can’t…” I stopped myself, knowing how shallow and naïve this was going to sound to an outsider.

  “Can’t do what?” Emily pressed.

  Wes gasped, getting something Emily wasn’t. “It?”

  I blushed and nodded. At least Wes got it. He knew that look on my face all too well—the look of disliking the term.

  “What’s it?” Emily asked dumbly, still not getting it.

  “Sex.” Wes said bluntly, looking Emily in the eye.

  I blinked a few times, taken aback by his direct remark. He’d never been so outward with the term before. “Well, in so many words, yes,” I said sarcastically.

  Wes snorted. “This isn’t really a subject I want to discuss, especially with you, so…” He shook his head, releasing Emily’s arm and walking away. Wes was pouting about it.

  Emily just rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Why?” She leaned in, cupping my elbow and pulling me closer. At least she could respect some of my privacy and reasoning, and it made me want to respect her in return—a rare feeling.

  “I guess
it’s something in the way we’re connected. Max borrows my emotions in order to protect me, but I suppose he can take that too far. If we were to…” I once again stumbled over the term.

  “Have sex?” Emily blurted, just as Wes had.

  I scorned her. “Yes. That.” I rolled my eyes. “If we were to do that, his draw on my emotions could get carried away. Max would suck the life right out of me.”

  Emily leaned back, looking mildly stunned. “Wow… really? That’s kinda heavy.”

  Her remark was less than impressive. I ignored her. “I mean, you can see why I’d send him away, right? I loved him—love him—and being around him, and wanting so much from him, how do I know I won’t get carried away one day? I certainly can’t leave it up to Max to be the only responsible one. That’s just irresponsible.”

  Emily grasped both my elbows this time, holding me square in front of her. “I can understand, Jane.” She shook me gently. “Besides, what we’re learning about Max’s past isn’t exactly…”

  “Reputable?” I finished her sentence for her. It was the perfect word.

  Emily shrugged. “I mean, I was going to say savory because I thought it sounded cool, but sure. I guess that works. I mean, everyone has a past, his just happens to be a little more… intense… and well… extensive.” I could see she was trying to play an even field, but there was also an understanding in her words, as though the issue was her own. “I know how it feels to overcome past… um… romances. I mean, you know, you and Wes and all.” She stumbled over her words. It wasn’t a subject we’d addressed in a whole lot of detail.

  “Emily, you know I don’t have feelings for Wes, and knowing and loving Max as I have now, I know that I never did. It was a comfort thing with him, that’s all.”

  Emily had dropped her hands to her waist, fiddling with a lump of my yellow dress as it invaded her space. “I know that. I do. What I’m saying, I guess, is that I understand. I want you to be able to talk to me about these things, and not just…” Her words trailed.