Prophecy (12 page)

Liam watched me with a pinch between his eyebrows. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

Allison laughed. “You’re going to give yourself a headache. Relax. I was just sayin’. He
likes you
likes you. You’re attached at the hip. He’s a guy. Either something’s going on between you or it will be. You guys need to have
the talk
. Talk to him Friday night. He said you’re staying over.”

“You’re sleeping there?” Liam pressed his palms against his hips.

“His parents are going out of town,” Allison interjected.

Liam’s eyebrows shot up. “And you do this often? I thought you and Justin were…” He exhaled loudly. “I don’t understand the dynamic.”

“She’s pretending to stay with me, but I think I might stay at Justin’s, too, so I won’t need to drive anywhere. I plan to have a good time. No curfew. No DUI. Winning.” She shot me a massive victorious smile.

Liam sighed and turned his face to mine. “You’re drinking too? Is this why you’re staying?”

“Yeah. I haven’t had more than one drink in my life. I had to be on guard against my boyfriend’s advances.” I snorted at the ridiculousness of the truth.

“Understandable.” Liam rubbed his face with both palms. “Okay. I’ll come. Tell Justin Oliver and I will be there. I won’t drink. If you need a designated driver, I’ll take you back to Allison’s. Tell Tony and Adam the party’s cancelled.”

Allison shrugged. I doubted she’d heard anything past the fact Oliver was going.

I, on the other hand, had a lot of explaining to do before Friday. Justin and I finally had to have the talk.

I’d decided to talk with Justin at lunch. He’d never told me whether or not he thought of me as more than a friend, though he’d alluded to it more than once. I shook off the guilt pooling in my gut and strode toward my locker with purpose. My feet were heavier than my eyelids. Who knew how that was possible? I’d spent hours researching Norse runes and found dozens of various definitions for the one on Liam’s chest. If I didn’t need to talk with Justin, I would’ve feigned a virus and slept all day. Mom never doubted me or questioned a virus, but I wouldn’t risk the friendship Justin and I had cultivated over years of skinned knees and shared pizzas for a few hours of sleep.

Even if I wasn’t falling out of control, sideways, over a cliff for Liam and his damned secrets, I wouldn’t have acted on my attraction to Justin. I’d rehashed this all night. This was the right thing for everyone. Romantic relationships ended friendships faster than any other force of nature. People never broke up and remained friends. There was no going back from there. Nature was a bitch like that.

“Hey.” I hurried when I saw him.

Justin leaned against my locker, one shoulder pressed to the metal. Both thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

“You look like you ran to school. No more rides from Allison, huh?”

“Right. She’s got her eyes on Oliver Hale. She’s probably still applying makeup in the bathroom. I’m old news.” I spun the dial on my lock and switched out the books I needed and the ones I’d taken home the night before.

“Here come our doppelgangers. The anti-us.” Justin narrowed his eyes as Kirk and Hannah walked past.

I gawked. “Life is so unfair. Look at her.” Hannah was a mess twelve hours before, but there she went, bright-eyed and dressed to impress. “She was smashed last night and she still looks better than I do when I’ve had sleep and spent an hour getting ready.”

Kirk didn’t look at us.

“I’m confused. Did they walk past without spewing evil?” Justin straightened, watching their figures disappear into the crowd. “I don’t understand. Am I asleep?” He looked at his body. “Nope. In my dreams I come to school naked.”

Now, that would be something worth showing up for.

Uh uh. No. No. I shut my locker and refocused. “Can we have lunch outside today?” Someplace with fewer witnesses in case the conversation becomes dicey.

“Ah. Can’t.” Justin looked at me with wide blue eyes. “I’m only here half a day today. I’m helping Dad get caught up with the horses and the barns before they leave tomorrow.” He pushed hair off my shoulder, invading the space even good friends kept. “When can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Uhm. Well, I guess after dinner. I told my mom I’m meeting Allison at the party when she finishes her shift at Roll With It, then sleeping at her place. She might sleep at your place, too, if she’s drinking.”

“
Mi casa es su casa
,” he said in the strongest southern drawl and worst Spanish ever.

What about the awkward conversation? “I wanted to talk to you. How long will you work with your dad today?”

This triggered an unexpected response. Justin moved again, bringing the toes of our shoes together. He looked at me from the half a foot in height between us and his expression simmered with emotion. “We have all night Friday to sort things out.”

A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t swallow. Justin was all in and I was about to bail. I didn’t want to hurt him. I opened my mouth, but the bell cut me off. People scurried to classes. Three minutes before the tardy bell. Not even close to enough time to start this discussion.

“You feeling okay?” He rubbed my arm with one palm.

“Tired. I’m not sleeping well.”

“Up too late?” Concern furrowed his brow.

“Bad dreams.” Nightmares. Crows pecking through the glass in my bedroom window. Glowing green symbols in the cemetery carving themselves into my head. Waking to a woman’s scream. The usual.

Above a hundred heads, one face stood out, drawing my attention like a beacon. Liam caught my eye and almost smiled before disappearing from view. Justin leaned in, blocking everything else out. He pressed a palm to my shoulder and his lips against the top of my head as Liam reached us.

Justin’s smile was brilliant, content, and proud.

Liam’s frown was a mash-up of confusion, hurt, and concern.

I managed an awkward smile, my mouth twisted with anxiety and poor timing.

Liam’s steps slowed a second before regaining his steady pace. He turned his head as he passed, watching as Justin noticed him and took my hand. A puff of air hit my bangs. This situation was made for television, and I wasn’t remotely suave enough to navigate the storm brewing around me without a script and better lighting. Last week I’d ghosted through my days, avoiding Kirk’s wrath and counting the minutes until I swam again. This week I seemed to wear flashing neon, and the desire to sit beside Liam in class held more intrigue than any number of laps in the pool after school.

Justin tugged my hand, towing me toward homeroom at a clip. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Yeah. I told you I wanted to talk.” I hustled along beside him, taking two steps for every one of his.

We stopped at my homeroom door. Justin’s jaw moved side to side.

He examined my expression, apparently not liking what he found there. “Shit.” His shoulders rounded. He dropped my hand and looked at the big clock above us on the wall. We only had seconds.

“Justin,” I started lamely.

The bell rang.

“Shit.” His tight smile said the rest. He saw through me and recognized my interest in Liam for what it was: intense, premature, and stupid. He groaned and paced backward away from me, shaking his head, while holding my gaze. “I’m coming over tonight. We’re going to talk about this.” He turned and ran in the direction of his homeroom.

* * * *

Ohio History continued in the uncomfortable pattern of my life. First, Hannah strolled in behaving as if I hadn’t seen her messed up last night. Then again, who was I? Liam slid into his seat beside me ten seconds before the tardy bell, giving me a cursory glance and a quick nod. Very friendly. Mrs. Potter called the class to order and my chance to explain myself to Liam evaporated. Not that I owed him an explanation.

“I trust you’ve all had time to look over
Haunted Ohio
, thumbed through the stories and read more than the table of contents, yes?” Mrs. Potter peered behind the stacks of books, files, and coffee mugs littering her desk.

Half the class swiveled in their seats to look at Liam.

“Excellent. We’re pairing up for the project.” Mrs. Potter collected a stack of folders and moved to the front of her desk.

“I’ll be your partner,” Hannah whispered, hanging an elbow over the back of her chair and turning to face Liam. Her long honey highlights bobbed in ringlets at the bottom, bouncing against the back of her chair.

“No.” Liam looked past her like always, as if she wasn’t there.

“Miss Snyder?” Mrs. Potter handed her a folder. “You and Miss Spencer will be partners.” Zoe Spencer looked like someone slapped her face. Her eyes stretched wide and her cheeks beamed red. Mrs. Potter had hit her over the head with a bitchstick in the form of her partner.

The class erupted in whispers. No one wanted their partner assigned.

“Mr. Hale. Miss Ingram.” Mrs. Potter slid a folder onto our table and moved on, calling names and delivering paperwork.

“Given the book I selected this summer and the new addition to our classroom, I’d have to grade twelve papers on Chapter six. This saves me time and reduces redundancy. The partnership is for collaboration, but you will each complete an individual paper on the chapter inside your folder. I’ve included additional resources and past papers on similar locations for reference. You may take the remainder of class to get acclimated with one another and the location assigned. Remember, your paper is about the historical significance of the location.”

Liam flipped open the plain manila folder with a number six written on the tab. Hale Manor. Shocking. Except, it
was
a shock to Liam. His eyes widened as he examined the papers inside our folder. His last name typed neatly across the top of each page. Hale Manor, local focal point of all things urban legend and folklore. He snagged his book off the table and flipped through the pages, stopping at an old black and white photo of his current home. A low guttural sound vibrated through him. A groan of horror, I suspected. He read the first page of the chapter before looking around the room and finally at me.

“Yeah,” I sighed the word.

His lips rolled into a tight white line. The muttering he let out sounded mostly like curses. Some I knew but a few I recognized in tone and gusto only. He turned the page and continued reading. Thirty minutes later, he hadn’t looked up from his book.

Hannah packed her bag, waiting for the bell, and turned in her seat, ready for another try with Liam, who didn’t look up.

“What are you looking at?” she snapped when I caught her getting ignored again.

“Feeling better today?” I wasn’t sure where my mean streak came from this week.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her flippant tone suggested I was stupid. Her eyes warned me to shut the hell up.

Liam bolted out the door at the bell. My gut clenched and rolled with concern. Surely he’d known the speculation surrounding his home before seeing the words in print. He must have. Putting myself in his situation made my nausea worse. What if I’d moved to a new country where everyone at my new school grew up on horror stories of my family home? I didn’t have words to describe the awfulness or a single clue how to comfort him

I didn’t see Liam at lunch and he skipped study hall. My tummy swirled with anticipation, draining me of my already limited energy. At least we had detention together, assuming he showed. I drifted into a trance during my last two classes, existing somewhere between asleep and awake. In English, the teacher’s voice became a backdrop to a weightless sensation. During Calculus, we had a test. The numbers on my sheet swirled into a vortex of symbols. They were the runes I’d researched through the night, learning nothing from endless contradictory websites. The same ones present in my nightmare.

The screeching bell jerked me awake. My test stuck to one cheek as I lifted my head off the desk. Students filed into the hallway, dropping their papers onto the teacher’s desk as they passed. I rubbed my eyes and prayed for a makeup exam. I didn’t remember solving a single problem, and I couldn’t get a zero and a scholarship. When my eyes focused, I didn’t see the blank paper I expected. Heavy pencil scratches in the shape of Liam’s rune covered the test. The mark covered every square inch of the paper, written over the problems and along the margins in so many different sizes that the white of the paper barely showed through. I stuffed the paper into my bag and bolted for the back door of my classroom. Turning in a paper like that would land me back in the school shrink’s office, someplace I hadn’t been since childhood. I planned to keep it that way.

I swam harder than I had all week, desperate for the outlet, hoping to make up for my lack of concentration and a way to busy my mind. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Repeat. Chlorine stung my eyes and nose, burning my throat a bit when I caught a mouthful on my final lap. My lungs ached from exertion, and I welcomed the springy feeling in my bones when I pulled my legs back onto dry land.

Coach clapped from the doorway of his office.

I ducked my head and waved. It wasn’t my imagination then. My times had improved. Hope rose in my chest. I could get a scholarship. Get a degree. Get a life. All of the above without asking Dad for help.

* * * *

Cool wind whipped hair into my eyes. The fading light of an enormous setting sun cast scarlet rays on my world. I lifted a hand to the horizon like a child reaching for the images in a 3-D movie. Some days the sunset seemed close enough to burn me. I squinted my way along the sidewalk and into the empty parking lot. A black Mercedes sat across three spaces. Liam had said he’d stopped giving Oliver a ride home. I looked over my shoulder to the football field where trucks lined the perimeter.

Liam climbed from the driver’s seat and levered sunglasses onto his head. “May I drive you home?”

“I’m fine.” Lies. I was shaken, confused, and a little hurt.

“It’s no trouble. You’re on my way.” His mouth curved into a crooked smile, revealing a line of straight, white teeth.

Confident he had me, Liam walked to the passenger door and opened it. I counted to ten before accepting. He closed the door behind me and rounded the hood back to his place behind the wheel.