Authors: Heidi Acosta
I stare at the shadows on my bedroom walls. Why is Cardelian trying to protect him? “
It’s complicated
.” His words bounce around my skull with Jaxson’s, “
I was in the woods behind your house.”
I shiver and pull the blanket tighter around me. There could be a million explanations as to why his hand is hurt. For instance, he could have burned it using his hair straightener because he must spend a lot of time to get it to fall perfectly in his eyes the way it does. Nobody wakes up with hair that perfect.
Why am I trying to make excuses for him? He practically admitted it to me that he did it. What is wrong with me? Jaxson could be out there right now, stalking some other poor girl. It will be entirely my fault if she gets hurt.
I get out of bed and walk over to the window, knowing Jaxson could be out there now, watching me.
‘I was in the woods behind your house.’
I tug the curtains shut, knowing what I have to do. I will not be that stupid girl. The right thing has to be done. I go downstairs, each step a reminder that this is the right thing to do. By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, I’m not entirely convinced it is. My palms are sweating as I grip the phone, pressing it hard to my ear. It rings three times before he answers.
“Hello,” he practically shouts.
I hesitate because, when I tell him what Jaxson said, there is no going back.
“Hello?” he says again, this time sounding annoyed.
“Umm. Hello, Officer Benson, this is Eden Day.”
“Eden. Is everything okay? Is Essie okay?”
I wrinkle my nose. Why does he want to know about my aunt? “Yes, she’s fine. I called because I think I know who attacked me.” The receiver is silent for a moment, and then I hear the shuffle of paper.
“Okay, go ahead.”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything, from the hurt hand to Jaxson telling me he was outside my house yesterday. When I’m finished, Benson sighs.
“I will check this out, Eden, but it is unlikely it is him. It sounds like he was just trying to get a rise out of you. This might not be the only joke. This is a small town and word is going to get around about your claims.”
I choke out a laugh. He still doesn’t believe me.
“Eden, if he does show up at your house, I want you to call me right away. Do you understand?”
I hang up the phone without answering him.
Essie shuffles into the kitchen with her arms full of grocery bags. Her hair is frizzy and damp from the rain. “Who was that?”
“Wrong number,” I say. “Is there any more bags in the car?”
“Only the bread and eggs.”
“I will get them.” I need to get out of here. I feel like the room is closing in on me. Why doesn’t anyone believe me? I slip on rubber boots and dart out the door. By the time I reach the car, I’m soaking wet. Essie left the headlights on and the driver’s door open, and the rain pours into it. I slide into the passenger’s side reaching over to take the keys out of the ignition.
As soon as I click the lights off, I see Jaxon, quickly I turn them back on, illuminating the space in front of the car. The light glares off him, making it almost impossible to see his features, but I know it’s him. His eyes seem to glow a light blue, making my heart stops as I stare, and my body shakes from a mixture of fear and cold. I blink several times, and his eyes are perfectly normal. I need to stop this! I’m not about to let him intimidate me anymore.
I turn the lights off, get out of the car, and slam the door shut behind me. I can no longer see him. It’s as if he has become part of the night. I squint, searching for him. “Jaxson, are you out here?” I whisper.
I step forward, bumping into him, and let out a yelp. Jaxson stands toe to toe with me. I stumble backwards, but he reaches out and grips my elbow, which causes another squeak to slip from my mouth.
“Careful, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” he says in a foreboding tone.
I yank my arm free from his grasp, slipping as I do, but he doesn’t help me this time. My boots are too big on my feet and are quickly filling with water.
“I called the police,” I say when I regain my balance. Telling him this is like a weapon in my hands that I can use against him.
Leaning against the car, he smiles. “I figured you would.” The rain makes his skin glisten like oil, the water beads off the tips of his hair and long eyelashes, and he looks perfect, dark, sexy, and soaking wet. My stomach flips at the sight of him. I’m sure I look like a drowned rat with frizzy hair, but I don’t care because I don’t like him. I can’t like him. Liking a boy that scares me is crazy, and I’m not crazy.
“They said to call them if you showed up,” I say taking a step away from him. Angling myself closer to the house, so I have a better chance of getting away if I need to.
“So call them.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out his cell phone, holding it out for me.
I contemplate taking it and calling, but wouldn’t they question why I was using his phone? That would make me look like a crazy girl with a crush on a boy and trying to get attention. He could spin the story to benefit him and clear his name.
Oh, he is sneaky.
I steal a glance behind me, seeing the blue light of the TV illuminating the window.
“She cannot hear you,” he says.
Panic crashes through my mind, sounding alarms.
“If you scream that is.” He watches me with a cold, calculated look.
I swallow hard. “Why are you here?”
He looks me over as if he is trying to decide something important. Finally, he answers, “I thought I owed you an explanation.”
“What did you do Friday night?”
“Before or after I was in the woods behind your house,” he says mockingly. In one swift movement, he pushes off the car and is in front of me. Faster than a human.
“Don’t come any closer,” I warn. My teeth clatter together.
An amused look spreads across his face. “All right, Ace, if that is what you want.”
“How did you hurt your hand?”
He pushes back his wet hair, contemplating the question. “I burnt it.”
“I don’t believe you.” I have to force my voice to be steady.
“Believe what you want, but it’s the truth. I was making tea and spilled hot water on myself.” He holds up his right hand, which is no longer bandaged, his palm is red with white blisters.
Ouch.
I cringe at the sight.
“You didn’t attack me,” I murmur with a mixture of relief and aggravation. “Who could it have been then?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says in a sarcastic tone.
“What were you doing in the woods?”
He rubs the back of his injured hand across his chin. “Let’s just say I was curious.”
“Curious? What does that even mean?” I take a step closer. The rain has slowed to a mist, and where it touches the ground, thin fog rises and swirls around our feet.
“I heard rumors that you and your aunt are crazy, the Boo Radley of Copake Falls, and I wanted to see for myself.”
I’m both impressed by his literary pun and insulted. “And?” I ask sharply.
He looks over my shoulder, and I know what he sees. The pie tin lined fenced and the odd Celtic statues that decorate the lawn. I’m just grateful that he cannot see into the house.
“And I think most of them are narrowminded. Like many people, they’re afraid of anything different.”
I’m happy he doesn’t think I’m a whack job like everyone else, but I am not sure I believe him. We are the Boo Radley of Copake Falls. If a few statues and pie tins around the yard doesn’t make him see that, then the aluminum foiled ceiling and Essie’s alien posters that decorate the living room walls will.
“Would you like to come in?” I ask, gesturing over my shoulder to the house.
He raises his brow at me. “Look, Ace, you’re a nice girl, but I don’t like you like that.”
“I never said that. I just thought you might like to come in out of the rain.” I stumbled over each word.
He wears a disdainful smile, amused by this little game he is playing. “Really?” he asks in a mocking tone.
“I–I–I … no. I don’t like you like that. Maybe we could be friends,” I manage to choke out. I’m grateful that the dark covers the heat rising in my cheeks.
“I don’t want friends,” he replies in a bored tone.
“But I … everyone needs a friend.” I reach out for him, but let my hand drop to my side. Why am I reaching for him? Embarrassment blisters inside of me.
“Not me,” he says.
At a loss for words, I open and shut my mouth.
“Look, this game that we’re playing will end up with someone hurt, and you’re a nice girl.”
I hate the look of pity he’s wearing. “Stop saying that! I’m not a child, and I do not play games.”
He gazes at me for a few minutes, his eyes scanning me over. I know what I must look like a desperate little girl. The T-shirt I wear hangs on me like a dress weighed down from the rain, the leggings are soaking wet, and my dad’s rubber boots are too big for my feet.
“Perhaps you’re not playing the game.” His face becomes unreadable.
“I don’t like you,” I blurt out again, wanting him to be sure that I wouldn’t want more than a friendship, if even that.
“Whatever you say, Ace.” He pushes past me and heads down the dark driveway, blending in with the night. It’s spooky how he does that.
When I no longer can see him, I grab the two bags left in the car and sprint to the house.
“I thought I was going to have to call the Coast Guard,” Essie announces when I burst through the door. “You’re soaking wet! What the heck was taking you so long?”
Trying to catch my breath, I lean against the door. “I thought I saw something,” I explain.
Essie’s face turns from amused to fear. “Something? What was it?” she asks, panicked.
I shrug. “Who knows? Maybe it was an animal. Don’t worry.” Telling her not to worry is pointless. I can see that her mind is already spinning images of fictional creatures lurking in the dark, ready to abduct us. I cringe as Essie goes into panic mode. I was stupid I should have just told her the truth.
I follow her into the kitchen as she mumbles under her breath. “Essie, it’s okay. I’m sure it was just a raccoon,” I say, trying to reassure her.
She opens a cabinet, removes a pot, and hands it to me. “Put this by your window,” she orders.
“Essie, I don’t think—”
She doesn’t let me finish. “It is iron, and aliens cannot cross over it. It burns them.”
“Isn’t that faeries?”
She straightens and stares at me for a moment before suddenly laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. “Eden, there is no such thing as faeries. Now, go put this by your window.”
I’m running through a forest, and a thick blanket of white snow covers the ground, silencing every step. Thin, finger-like tree branches reach for me—tugging at my hair and clothes. A thud, like a heartbeat, pulsates through the woods, growing louder and louder until it drowns out my own heartbeat. Stopping, I press my hand to my chest, making sure my heart is still beating. The heart beats in sync with the forest, becoming faster until it is no longer a steady beat but a high-pitched noise from behind me. I turn as a black arrow lined with golden feathers spins in my direction. I step out of the way just in time for it fly past me, but a golden feather slides across my cheek, slicing it. Blood drips onto the pristine snow, turning it crimson. The ground begins to give way, and I’m falling into a deep black nothingness.
I sit up, gasping for air and reach for my cheek, but my hand comes away clean. My cheek stings with the remembrance of where the arrow cut me. I flop back to the bed, pulling the cover over my face. It was just a nightmare. Essie has the heat off again, and my breath comes out in small white puffs. It explains why I was dreaming of snow. A sickening feeling settles over me, and somehow, I know that the heartbeat belonged to Jaxson. I rub my bare feet together, trying to forget, but wanting to remember every detail of my dream.
I need coffee. It makes everything better. I tug an old sweatshirt on over my nightgown and go downstairs. Every light in the house is on, which can only mean Essie did not go to bed last night.
Not good
. It also means she probably skipped her meds.
I stop short on my way into the kitchen. Paint covers the living room wall in a sloppy red line from ceiling to floor with an arrow the middle of it. It drips off the coffee table and onto the floor from a tipped over can. I back out of the room, but my eyes stay fixated on the disturbing picture on the wall.
I can hear Essie banging around upstairs. I want to go back to bed and redo the last twenty-four hours over again. I would begin yesterday with making sure she had her medicine. So much for the coffee. Drink abandoned, I grab her medicine out of the kitchen and race back upstairs.
Her bedroom doesn’t look much better than the living room, and the same sign is painted on her walls. Clothes are tossed across the room, a toppled light blinks in the corner. Essie sits in the midst of the destruction, cross-legged and mumbling something I can’t make out. She looks as if she hasn’t slept in days. Her eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in red. Her hair sits on top of her head in a ratty bun. I move closer, taking a seat across from her.
“Take wary steps along the dark and twisted road,
Listen to wings that beat between evil and good,
A sacrifice will be made,
One of heart that will beat no more,
Blood will spill if let along,
Fire will burn and ice will reign,
Death will be the only way,
If not for love the only cure.”
She repeats over and over, and I have to fight the urge to run out of here.