Annabeth Neverending (23 page)

Once outside the smoldering building, Gabriel and C. J. try to run back in to help any stragglers, but they aren’t allowed to enter.

“We’ve got it. We don’t need more students to save!” shouts a fireman.

We stand there idly, watching the flames demolish our beloved field house. Ambulances abound as victims of smoke inhalation and third
-
degree burns are being treated all over the parking lot. Some students are in shock; others are breaking down sobbing. Bernadette, Kerry, and I share a shaking embrace. We then turn to our respective boyfriends for comfort.

C. J. and I hold each other, happy to have a bit longer to enjoy this particular existence. Hector grabs Bernadette’s hand and looks at her thoughtfully.

“No offense, Bernadette, but I’m never coming back to your school again.”

Kerry is hanging on to Gabriel for dear life, but he stands there, seemingly unaffected by the tragedy that surrounds him. I find this to be the strangest reaction because it’s a nonreaction. His face is free of emotion, and his eyes are strangely vacant. He stands there, dumbly…numbly.

And I know why. Dear God, I know why.

23

T
he principal, Mr. Gruel, insists that the incident at the dance was caused by a shortage in the electrical system, but of course I’m skeptical. Then again, it’s not like any investigation is going to consider “black magic” a probable cause. The school and the whole town have been turned upside down by what happened. Mr. Gruel’s thin, manufactured explanation may provide closure for everyone else, but not me.

York High has been closed for days to clean up the mess and allow the teachers who worked the dance and the students who attended some time to heal. Several of my classmates are still in the hospital recovering from smoke inhalation and severe burns. Their injuries aren’t pretty, but things could be even worse. At least nobody paid the ultimate price for attending a dance with Gabriel.

I’m watching coverage of the fire on the local news when the doorbell rings. I answer it, finding a bleary
-
eyed Kerry standing there, her nose red and raw looking, like she’s been wiping it repeatedly.

“Gabriel just broke up with me,” she murmurs.

“He did? But why?”

Kerry runs her fingers through her blond hair, which is unusually mussed, thoughtfully.

“He said he has issues. And I’m pretty sure those issues are you,” she answers, like she’s dropping a bomb, though I saw this one coming from miles away.

“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I don’t need her to explain it. But I can’t exactly act like I suspected it all along.

“I don’t think he ever stopped liking you. I guess you can’t help how you feel,” Kerry reasons, resigned.

“You know I’m with C. J.,” I say quietly.

“Annabeth, some things just aren’t meant to be. At least, that’s the line Gabriel used on me. And maybe your relationship with C. J. is one of them,” she says, her bitterness palpable.

“I never encouraged Gabriel. I swear.”

“I believe you. But being around you…It’s just too painful right now. I hope you understand.”

I nod sadly. I feel bad for her, but I get it. If her feelings for Gabriel are even a fraction of what mine were…maybe even are…Well, she’s in for a world of heartbreak.

“Are you going to kick me off the squad?”

“Why? That won’t change anything. At least this way, whenever you see me, you’ll feel guilty.”

She’s got a point there.

“The irony is, the whole reason I put you on the squad in the first place is because I felt guilty.”

“About what?” I ask, not having the faintest inkling of what could’ve prompted those feelings in her.

“Well, I’m the one who posted the video of you sleepwalking. Billy and I found you. It was so crazy, so weird; we couldn’t help ourselves. We taped you, and then we called the cops. When I got home, I had to put it up. But I’ve regretted it ever since,” says a weepy Kerry.

So I didn’t earn my spot? It was given to me out of a feeling of remorse, a sense of obligation. Kerry did it only to ease her own conscience. Yes, it hurts my ego, but then again, I still got to be on the squad and proved my worth in the end. Whatever works, I guess.

Of course I’m hurt by her betrayal. But it all seems so trivial compared to everything else I’m facing.

“I just hope that someday you can forgive me.”

“I already do,” I say. And it’s true. I simply don’t have the energy to hold a grudge anymore.

“Just treat Gabriel well.”

She’s bossy even now, but at least I appreciate where she’s coming from…a place of concern.

“No matter what you might think, C. J. is the one I want,” I say.

But my voice wavers as I say it. This poses a problem. If I can’t even infuse my words with certainty, how can I infuse my heart?

Now that I’ve taken a little time to deal with the horror of the fire and gather up my courage, I go to find Gabriel. The fact that he dumped Kerry makes me worry about him even more. He isn’t returning my calls; he isn’t returning my texts. It’s radio silence. Even though I know the truth, I want to hear it from him. I hightail it to Brunswick and walk aimlessly around the storied Bowdoin campus until I find his social house.

If only the foliage were still on the trees, in peak color, the campus would be even more spectacular. But they’re barren, leafless, seemingly lifeless. They don’t fool me though. They’re only sleeping, hibernating, waiting for the time to come when they can bloom yet again. When they’re reborn.

Gabriel resides in Baxter, a large, white wooden building with stately pillars. Apparently, there are eight social houses on campus, and each one is designated for upperclassmen but affiliated with a freshman dorm. Being selected to live in one of the social houses is a highly competitive process. Of course they chose Gabriel.

Did he use some black magic to push it through?

I knock on his door. Nobody answers, but I can hear him stirring on the other side.

“Gabriel, it’s me. Annabeth.”

I stand there waiting, and finally he opens up. He looks pretty raggedy, with dark puffy circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping. Or paying attention to personal hygiene. Gabriel ushers me into his filthy room. Leftover food and takeout containers are scattered throughout.

This feels like the last part of a rom com, when the couple has broken up, leaving the guy bereft, until he finally comes to his senses and wins back his love in the contrived finale. The thing is…While in some weird universe what’s gone on between me and Gabriel may have been construed as “rom,” it isn’t the least bit funny. There is no “com” to be had.

“I need you to be honest with me. Did you start the fire?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation.

“But you didn’t mean to, right? It was an accident! Your powers went haywire again. Things were beyond your control,” I cry out.

Gabriel chuckles evilly. “Yes and no. Don’t you get it? You’re the one who keeps setting me off! I do horrible things when I see you with my brother. You’re the trigger,” he says as he clenches his fists, as though the very thought is more than he can bear.

Even though I knew it to be true, I couldn’t allow myself to believe the horror of it. I didn’t want to accept the blame, my part in all of it.

Why do I bring out such jealous devotion in both of these brothers? I mean, what’s so wonderful about me anyway? Most guys don’t even like redheads, let alone freckle
-
covered ones!

“Some of my classmates, some of my teachers, were hurt. Somebody could’ve died,” I say ominously.

Gabriel’s voice takes on a gruff quality. “I want you so badly. And my powers are making sure nothing comes between us. Nobody is safe if I’m around you. That’s why you need to keep your distance.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I say.

This is really messed up. He thinks he may have injured countless teachers and students, but he doesn’t sound absolutely positive, and his room for doubt fuels mine. Despite the probability of guilt, I’m still drawn to him, and now I’ve admitted more than I should have…to him or myself.

Gabriel’s crooked grin makes its appearance. I’m about to run out the door. But Gabriel won’t allow it. Instead, he grabs my arm. I try to jerk away, but I have no upper
-
arm strength on a good day
—
I can’t even do one pull
-
up
—
and I’m certainly no match for Gabriel on a bad one like this.

“No, I’m not letting it go that easy. I’m not letting you go that easy. I need to hear you say it. How do you feel about me?” he demands, snarling.

“You first,” I say.

“That’s mature,” he says with a leering grin…Kha’s leering grin.

Before, the last thing I wanted to hear from his lips was that sentence, “I love you,” and now I want him to say it. I’m not sure what I’ll do when it happens, but I know that I must hear it.

“Fine. I love you, and I’ve loved you ever since the first time I caught you in my arms. Happy now?”

Now that he’s done it, now that he’s put the words out there, in their wrongness they feel so right.

“No, I’m not happy! Damn it, Gabriel. You’re ruining everything.”

And it’s true. He’s singlehandedly destroying my relationship with C. J. simply by caring for me. And that’s only part of it. He’s already ruined so much more.

“I’m still waiting for you to say it back,” he demands hostilely.

“I want you because I shouldn’t, and I want C. J. because I should,” I admit with difficulty, though it easily pours out of me anyway. “But just because I feel that way doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.”

“I wouldn’t expect that. I’m much too dangerous,” says Gabriel as he wags his eyebrows. “Though you seem to like that, don’t you? Maybe Kha was really the one you wanted all along.”

Hearing him say it makes me think there’s a chance he’s right. And so I don’t answer him. Instead, I leave. I don’t bother saying good
-
bye. Why stand on manners now? I start with a walk, but it quickly turns to a run.

Will I need to run forever?

I don’t stop sprinting until I arrive at my mom’s car. I hop inside and lock the door. Did I keep all this from C. J. because I didn’t want to admit the terrible truth to myself? If I could have feelings for somebody who’s evil, that must mean that I’m evil too. Gabriel must have corrupted me in ancient Egypt, and surely he’s corrupting me again in this life.

And if that’s the case, why does it feel so good?

I can’t hide it from C. J. any longer. I have to tell him the truth. At least, the truth as I know it. It’s going to make me sound like I’m a lunatic, but C. J. has the right to know what’s going on. And maybe if I enlist his help, we can save Gabriel before he’s too far gone. And before I’ve gone with him.

Dora allows me into C. J.’s home, looking at me suspiciously all the while. “He’s upstairs in his room. You can go up and see him if you want.”

“Thank you,” I say while moving around her to head up the stairs.

“Now, you aren’t going to hurt him, are you?” she asks while inspecting her newly manicured nails.

What the hell? This is beyond good parenting, heading into weirdness.

“No, I just need to talk to him.”

“Because he really likes you. I’m just looking out.”

I try to tell myself that it’s sweet how much C. J.’s stepmother cares for him. But it’s not.

I rush into C. J.’s room. It could be the bedroom of any teenage boy in the country, filled with trophies and sports paraphernalia. Though there is one distinction. A poster for the movie
The Mummy
is hanging in the center of it all.

C. J. is lying on a plaid flannel
-
covered bed, wearing a University of Maine tee and jeans. He’s deep in the throes of a video game, but tosses the controller aside and sees me eying the poster.

“Do you like it? I got it at work.”

I nod, noting that he’s probably in the early stages of Egyptifying his bedroom. Who knew I was such a tastemaker? And why is it that I’ve had nothing but a positive effect on C. J. and nothing but a negative effect on Gabriel?

“We need to talk. Gabriel caused the fire at the dance,” I blurt out, even though I previously had a drawn
-
out explanation planned. I proceed to fill him in on the other things Gabriel had a hand in…the mugging, the burial alive.

C. J. crosses his arms and evaluates what must seem to him like a ridiculous tale, even to someone who believes the seemingly unbelievable. I feel terrible for being the one to bring this to light. Clearly, Gabriel never wanted his brother, his one ally in his family, to know the truth about his wrongdoings.

“That’s a lot to take in,” he says, betraying his doubt in my outlandish story.

“His evil
—
it’s building. Can’t you sense it?” I ask. I feel it with every inch of my being.

“No, I can’t. Annabeth, he’s my brother. I’ve known him my whole life. And if he’s a black sorcerer from ancient Egypt, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I guess I didn’t want you to be jealous, because I was engaged to him in a previous existence.”

“Oh, so now you were engaged…engaged?” C. J. cries, sounding tormented.

“I didn’t choose to be. My father selected him for me,” I explain, hoping that the details will be compelling enough.