Poison (15 page)

“I suppose,” he said dismissively. “I wish you’d try to think
a little more broadly, though, if you can. You tend to lack imagination.”

That was a new one. “I do?”

“Well, all this speculating about legends and mystic things. It’s a waste of time. And an embarrassment, really.”

“Oh.”

“But perhaps it’s the best you can do, given your age and . . . inclinations.”

He was talking about witchcraft again. He knew by now that it was real—in Whitfield, at least—but he still felt that the “gifts” we exhibited were trivial and unimportant, if not downright goofy. Nothing like the
real
work of analyzing ancient French poetry or tracing the circuits of traveling troubadours.

I heard papers rustling in the background. “Anything else?” he asked, sounding far away.

“No. Thank you.”

“Good luck on your . . . ” I could tell he was reading now.

“Paper,” I finished. “Yes, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all one can expect, isn’t it?”

I didn’t answer right away. Dad must have gotten absorbed in what he was reading at that point, because during my silence he hung up.

“Yeah, I guess that’s all you can expect,” I said into the dead phone. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and tried not to think about what a disappointment I was just by being me.

Love you too, Dad.

•

Three days later Becca and I were in the library, studying for third-period geography. My hand, with its jumbo-size-bandaged thumb, lay on the table like a centerpiece. Actually, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Gram had taken me over to the hospital for stitches, but after a half hour in the Alternative Healing wing, I hadn’t needed more than a butterfly bandage and some superglue, plus the big poufy gauze wrapping to keep it from splitting open again if I bumped it.

Becca pretended to busy herself with maps of the arctic circle while she leaned close to me. “What would you say if I told you I was falling in love with Bryce?” she whispered.

“I’d say it was a pretty bad idea,” I said.

She gave me a squinty evil look. “Because he’s not from around here?” she shrilled.

I rolled my eyes. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of him not being human,” I said.

“What?”

Oh. My. God
. She didn’t know. This was why Hattie didn’t trust me with secrets. Because blabbing was my middle name. Katy “B for ‘Blab’ ” Ainsworth. “Er . . . I meant that he doesn’t seem to treat
you
like a human being,” I waffled.

“What are you talking about? He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever dated.”

Mrs. Miller, the librarian, gave us a look like a hawk eyeing mice.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking of someone else.”

“Someone else named Bryce de Crewe?” Becca asked sarcastically.

“Girls!” Mrs. Miller admonished. We both sank deeper into our seats, our maps held in front of our faces.

“As if
your
boyfriend is so great,” Becca said, and sniffed.

I looked over to her. “You know about Winter Frolic?” I asked. “Of course you do. Everybody knows, don’t they?”

“Uh . . . ” Now Becca had the
Oops
look on her face. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she said, trying to fix the suddenly awkward vibe between us. “Just because Fabienne—”

“
Fabienne?
Is that the name of Peter’s date?”

“You didn’t know?”

I sank down even lower. I knew my face was blazing red, but I was hoping no one would see. “She’s only fourteen,” I said. “A freshman.”

“Really? I thought she was one of those exchange students who’s already finished high school in her native country.”

I blinked. “So she doesn’t look like she’s fourteen?”

Becca swallowed. “Well, not really.”

“She’s not covered in zits?”

“Huh?”

“Is she gorgeous?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say . . . Um, well . . . Oh. There she is now.” Becca gestured with her chin toward Mrs. Miller’s desk, where a tall blond girl who looked like a contestant in the Miss Universe pageant was standing.

I heard a sound like a dying antelope escape from me.

“She has a big butt,” Becca said loyally.

The antelope moaned again.

“Miss Ainsworth!” Mrs. Miller hissed.

At the next table Verity was punching Cheswick’s arm. He didn’t seem to notice. He just kept staring openmouthed at the big-butted, underage French bombshell that my boyfriend was taking to Winter Frolic.

“You look weird,” Becca said. “Are you going to puke or something?” She edged her chair away from me.

I crossed my arms on the table and buried my face in them. “It sucks to be me,” I mumbled through my sweater.

“For sure,” Becca said.

There was suddenly a lot of subtle activity in the library. Everyone seemed to be looking either at Fabienne (even her name was gorgeous) or at me. I gathered up my things. “I think I’m going to go jump off a bridge,” I said, just as the door opened and the level of curiosity in the library leaped up about a thousand degrees.

It was Peter and Bryce, looking like models in a Prada ad. Peter was wearing a fleece-lined leather bomber jacket over a Missoni sweater and True Religion jeans. Bryce had on black chinos under a Burberry raincoat with a plaid lining that matched the scarf around his neck.

They were hot. I mean, watching them, you could almost
see them moving in slow motion with saxophone music in the background. I guess that’s what a little confidence and a five-thousand-dollar wardrobe can do.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Fabienne suck in her stomach and send a high-voltage smile in Peter’s direction. Peter caught it and sent one back to her. If he’d stopped, I might have slit my wrists with Mrs. Miller’s letter opener right then and there, but the boys kept moving toward us.

“Bryce!” Becca shouted, waving them over.

“My man!” Cheswick said, trying for a high five. God, but he could be embarrassing.

Mrs. Miller was listing from side to side, trying to wobble her way off her seat.

“Where have you
been
?” Becca squealed.

Peter put his arm around me. “Thailand,” he said, grinning.

I blinked in response.

The librarian had finally pried herself off her chair and was waddling toward us. “This is a library!” she said, coming as near to shouting as she allowed herself. She pointed toward the door. “I’m afraid you people will have to leave.”

“Certainly,” Bryce said, bowing slightly. “Our apologies.”

I let myself sort of float along with the group as we barreled into the hall. Verity and Cheswick ran to catch up with us, even though they hadn’t really been invited. Through the library’s glass panels I noticed that practically everyone inside was looking at us in an admiring way, as if we were the new IN crowd. Even Fabienne, who had probably never felt excluded from anything in her life, looked disappointed.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t help feeling a little cranky. Why was Peter once again spending time with Bryce instead of with
me? And why wasn’t Bryce looking for his evil fairy, if finding her was as important as he’d said it was?

“Did you say you went to
Thailand
?” Verity gushed.

“Affirmative,” Bryce said, evidently trying out his new vocabulary. “Check it out.” Anxiously he turned toward Peter. “Check it out?” he repeated.

Peter nodded.
“Perfecto,”
he whispered.

Bryce grinned. “Check it out . . . dudes.” He plucked at his shirt. “Thai silk.”

“But how—” I began.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Verity said, a little too loudly. “Bryce is a Traveler.”

“A . . . ” I narrowed my eyes at Bryce. Who was the blabbermouth around here, exactly? “What’s wrong with you?” I whispered. “I thought you said—”

Peter made a
Shut up
sign with his hand.

“I told you I could travel,” Bryce said with a wink. “Thailand’s no problem.”

So that was it. It was only Avalon that was the secret.

Becca pouted. “You didn’t take us.”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” Peter said. “Coach Levy subbed in gym. He made the whole class go for an eight-mile run.”

“We made it back in time to cross the line,” Bryce said.

“The finish line,” Peter elaborated. “Coach didn’t even notice that we weren’t in sweats.”

“Well, take us now,” Becca said, linking her arm around Bryce’s.

“Where, to Thailand?”

“Anywhere. Katy’s never been. Have you, Katy?”

“No,” I said, trying to stare Peter down. He knew I’d been languishing in my dorm, waiting for him to make some room in his schedule for me.

“It just came up,” Peter said defensively, as if he could read my mind. Although I suppose my face might have given me away.

“Is she angry?” I heard Bryce whisper.

I hated that more than everything else, hearing them talk about me like I wasn’t there. “No, she’s not angry,” I said between clenched teeth. “She has a geography class.” I walked away.

“Hey, so do we!” Cheswick called after me. “It’s not for forty minutes!” I ignored him.

Peter ran after me. When he tried to put his arm around me again, I squirmed away.

“Okay, what’s with you?” he said levelly.

It was hard to keep my tears in check. “Nothing,” I said. “Don’t make a scene.”

“You’re the one making a scene,” he said.

“This isn’t a scene,” I said. “I’m just not in the mood to hear about all your great adventures with
Bryce
.” I managed to make the name sound like a curse.

“Oh, come on.”

“
You
come on,” I said inanely. “It’s not enough that you expect me to go to Winter Frolic by myself while you take a date—”

“It’s not like that, Katy. You know that.”

“And now, instead of being with me . . . ”

“We were in gym class. Be reasonable.”

“I do not want to hear that again,” I said, stomping away.

“Hear what?”

“About being reasonable,” I shouted behind me.

He grabbed my arm. “Okay, then be unreasonable. But come with me.” He steered me toward the exit.

“I don’t want to go to Thailand,” I said as he propelled me into the parking lot.

“I’ve got her,” Peter called. The others swarmed out from behind an SUV, moving quickly so as not to be seen by Miss P or anyone else who might wonder what we were doing there.

Becca signaled behind her. “Hurry up, Bryce.”

“Katy doesn’t want to go to Thailand,” Peter said.

“No problem.” Bryce took my hand, careful of my bandaged thumb. “Very well, my friends. You must hold hands now, because you definitely do not want to get lost during this trip. Believe me.”

Peter squeezed my other hand.

“Are you ready? Everybody got a coat on?”

“Hurry
up
,” Becca said.

Bryce laughed. “Okay, then. We’re off.” He looked to Peter for reassurance. “Is that the right phrase? ‘We’re off’?”

“That’s it, bro.”

In the next second we were standing on an ice floe somewhere in the middle of a gray ocean. Freezing, blinding wind was blowing so hard that it threatened to sweep us off into the water. I could feel my eyelashes turning into icicles.

“What the—” Cheswick said. “Where are we?”

“Did you not complete your geography homework?” Bryce asked.

“It’s the north pole!” Becca screeched.

“Very good,” Bryce said approvingly.

“N-n-not really so good, babe,” Becca said, her teeth chattering.

“Don’t be so negative,” Verity piped. “My allergies are gone.”

“Seriously, dude,” Peter said, cocking his head toward me. “Think about the ladies.”

Bryce looked puzzled. “Very well. But we will probably be asked about the Arctic in our geography midterm examination.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Becca said. “Get us out of here, Bryce.”

Bryce checked our little circle. “Still holding hands?” he asked.

And then, just like that, all six of us were standing at the base of a sand dune, our shadows pooled like little puddles beside us. Overhead the sun beat down oppressively.

“Oh, come
on
,” Becca complained.

“Sorry,” Bryce said. “I overshot. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, no. We’re lost,” Verity wailed.

I closed my eyes, imagining how depressing it would be to be trapped on a desert island with Verity.

“And we’ll never . . . Oh.”

In that instant we were standing in front of a beautiful church in a beautiful city.

“Notre Dame,” I said. I recognized it from a picture in my French book.

“Alors.”
Bryce extended one hand, as if he were a stage magician drinking in applause. “Welcome to Paris,
mes amis
,” he said.

•  •  •

A couple of passersby looked at us strangely, but I didn’t know if it was because we’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere, or because Becca, Verity, and I were wearing heavy snow parkas and boots in a place that never got so cold that women had to abandon their high heels.

Becca actually screamed before throwing her arms around Bryce. Verity and Cheswick just sort of melted together until their heads touched.