Downcast (23 page)

I sat up, threw the car door open and was about to get out.

"Don't go," Haley said softly, and the tender pleading in his voice was almost my undoing.

I turned to him and cupped his face in my hands. I knew what I felt for him, and I believed I knew what he felt, too, but I needed to hear him say it. It was the only way I could go, could get out of this car, and could face whatever was waiting for me in my mother's house.

"Do you love me?" I asked gravely.

The corners of his lips tugged up ever so slightly.

"Love is such a mortal word."

***

The first thing that I noticed when I walked into the house was how hot it was. Outside was freezing, but in the house, the air felt hot and stale.

"Mom?" I called out.

No answer. She wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Putting my bag down quietly, I paused and listened intently for any sign of her.

A small, single creak broke the silence.

She was upstairs.

As quietly as I could—and avoiding every single squeaky spot on the stairs—I crept to the door of her room and pressed my ear to it. Her voice came through, low and muffled, but rhythmic and slow.

Carefully, I pushed the door open and looked inside. Confusion and fear swallowed me and all of my screams. All that came out was a desperate little whine.

Mom knelt naked in the middle of the floor in her room, shallow silver bowls of water spread around her in a semi-circle, with stalks of wheat, dried corn kernels, and what looked like gold-painted eggs scattered before her.

Her head whipped up almost inhumanly fast at my gasp, and I instinctively cringed, stumbling back out of the doorway and into the hall, tripping over my own feet and falling on my butt.

Terror froze me in place as she stood up to her full height—how had I never realized how tall Mom was? I couldn’t look away, even though I didn't want to see her naked. But she didn't seem to care. If anything, her body was nowhere near the saggy middle-aged mother body I had simply assumed was underneath all those baggy dresses.

She reminded me of a Renaissance painting, her body full and solid. Sturdy. Strong. Her skin was warm and golden, like she'd been in the sun, though I know she was paranoid about the health effects of tanning. Her hair was long, restless corn silk.

But her eyes...

Her eyes were the color of a hot August sky, pale and hazy from too much sun and scorching heat. They were too bright to focus on, but I couldn't look away. I couldn't shield myself from her.

She took a step toward me, and the whole house shook. I half-convinced myself it was a trick of the old floorboards.

"There will be an end to this," she said, but it wasn't her voice. It was electric, echoing, amplified, and buzzing in my ears.

"Mom?" I croaked out, backing up and falling over a pile of laundry on the floor. I landed on my butt and scrambled backwards.

She took another step toward me, and now I knew the house was actually shaking from her footfalls. She loomed over me, terrible and awesome. I saw madness in her eyes, and in that moment, my mind became completely blank from the intensity of my fear.

Her eyes widened in shock, and her face quickly contracted into lines of rage.

"Your chill, child!" she shrieked. "What is this chill?"

She dropped to her knees and brought her face too close to mine, her eyes restlessly searching me. Her gaze zeroed in on where Haley's pendant lay cool against my overheated skin.

Faster than I could follow, she snatched the chain from around my neck, breaking it and pulling the necklace from me. She stared at the round gold disc, the rubies blinking brightly, her face a monstrous grimace.

"No, wait," I pleaded weakly, my voice stupidly quiet and broken from terror. "That's mine!"

Her head swung in an unnatural way to me, the grimace still upon her face. More screams died in my throat and echoed silently in my head.

"Never," she hissed.

Without warning, everything grew too hot and bright. My eyes burned from the light, and I felt like my flesh was melting from my bones, white flames incinerating my veins as they raced through my body.

And then, finally, came the blessedly cool, quiet, lonely dark.

***

I fumbled for my alarm clock, knocking it to the ground as usual, as my fingers tried to find the right buttons to turn the thing off.

Tumbling out of bed to hunt and kill my beeping prey, I rolled onto my back on the floor and simply stared at the ceiling, blinking and thinking.

Wow. Just, wow. Those were some crazy dreams.

With a groan, I got up from the floor and trudged through my morning routine. Helen was going to come pick me up again this morning, so that meant being ready sooner than usual.

I still felt groggy as I slumped down the stairs to the kitchen. Even my shower hadn't helped me shake off the lingering exhaustion of my dreams. I was sluggish mentally and physically, like I had run a marathon.

"Good morning, sweetie," Mom said pleasantly, not looking up from behind her giant newspaper and green tea.

Well, this was a nice change, and I was super grateful for it. My brain couldn't have handled another morning of petty snipping with Mom. She looked like herself today and nothing like my crazy dream. But honestly, given how groggy I felt, I wouldn't have noticed if she had purple spots and horns. Okay, maybe the horns.

"Morning," I mumbled, trying for a smile, except it made my head hurt.

"I need to leave early today," Mom said, folding up her paper. "Do you think you could get Helen to take you to school? Why are you looking at me like that? Do you feel well? Are you sick?"

My jaw snapped shut, but I still looked at Mom in shock.

"I thought you didn't like Helen driving me," I replied timidly, wary of unleashing the whole crazy-obsessively-protective-Mom again.

Mom smiled serenely at me, lowering her eyes. "I just realized you were right, dear. You're changing, and certain things will have to change as a result. Don't forget you have work tonight."

"I...won't."

"Good, now I need to get going. Have a good day, sweetie."

I texted Helen as I watched as Mom sweep up her bag and leave. I made tea and simply basked in the peaceful calm, feeling grateful for Mom's newfound perspective. Maybe things could be good between us again. Maybe things could even be better than before.

My phone beeped to let me know Helen had just pulled up.

I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

That's when I noticed.

My necklace was gone.

***

The ride to school was quiet, but Helen kept giving me odd looks and opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it firmly. I was glad. I was in no way ready to talk about my nightmare and the uncomfortable fact my necklace was missing.

By the time we got to school, I was starting to feel sick. My nightmare had really done a number on me. My body was jittery and twitchy, but at the same time exhausted. I wondered if I had a fever because from the inside out, I felt scalded and raw. Even my eyeballs felt hot.

It probably didn't help that it was scorchingly hot outside, with blistering sunshine and air that was full of dry, windless heat like the blast from an oven.

"Hey, it's still summer, right?" I asked Helen as we walked into the building.

"Yup," she replied. "Saturday night is the fall equinox."

"Oh," I said, and we lapsed back into silence.

I stopped at my locker, and Helen walked on to hers, but not before turning back to give me one last puzzled look. I frowned and wondered what was bothering her—among the obviously many topics in my life to pick from.

"Oh, crap!" I exclaimed when I finally turned to look at my locker.

It had been decorated with amazing photos, graphics, and mini-posters promoting me for Homecoming queen. Instantly, I knew who was responsible. Only Snub Clubbers would have the wit, computer skills, and artistic talent to produce all of this so well and in such a short time.

Apparently, I even had my own "Like a Rock Starr" meme now.

My lips twitched in a grin at that. Joe, Matty, and Chad would burn with inarticulate rage when they saw it. That is, of course, assuming they got that the joke was on them in the first place.

Jeremy Sterling stopped at his locker and stared at mine before laughing appreciatively. His eyes flicked over to me, then widened, and he wrinkled his brow.

"Hey, uh, did you do something to your hair?" he stammered.

"Um, yeah," I replied, confused. "I cut it over the weekend."

"No, I saw that. But, it's like different now, or something."

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged apologetically.

Sharp, tinny bangs of locker doors reminded me that I needed to get my stuff and get up to class. I was sad I wasn't going to get a chance to see Haley before class, but there was the rest of the day. I just hoped Jordan wouldn't be on the warpath, and that Rob would...oh crap, I'd forgotten about Rob.

Cringing, I clutched my books to my chest and bit the inside of my cheek, trying to convince myself that Rob just wanted to be friends, and that he wouldn't really care about me and Haley, since he'd never really noticed me before.

Except he had. He said so yesterday.

Part of me wanted to say, "Whatever, he had his chance for eleven years." But, the voice of my own suffering suggested that maybe he was as trapped by his status as a Jock as I had been by the Snub Club. We both could have reached out, but that stuff only ever happened in romance novels and after-school specials.

The only comfort I could find was the thought that Rob was an awesome guy, and in a few months, he'd be free of high school hell, just like the rest of us, and he'd find someone awesome as well in the great wide world.

With a deep breath of completely fake courage, I headed upstairs.

What happened next was so fast that all I truly remember was the sound of Zack's drawn-out "Whoooa!" and Haley’s sharp “Stephanie!” and then the jumbled hustle of multiple people into the girls' restroom across from Ms. Collins' class.

I blinked and found myself standing in front of the sinks, staring at myself in the mirror.

"I told you," Helen proclaimed, slapping Zack's enormous bicep with the back of her hand.

"Freaky," Morris whispered. "Is it weird that looking at her hurts my eyes?"

"Yours, too?" Helen exclaimed.

"Not mine," Haley said from behind me, smiling like a guy who knows a sinful secret and wrapping his arms around me while pressing kisses to the top of my (much shorter) head.

"I can't believe it's actually happening," Zack swore, casually resting his hands on Helen's shoulder. "I mean, don't get me wrong, this is great. But, I don't think this is how it’s supposed to happen, exactly."

I wondered if I was losing my mind. What I saw in the mirror confirmed it.

The reflection of Stephanie Starr in the mirror had green eyes so bright and clear, they almost seemed to give off their own glow. Stephanie-in-the-Mirror also had light, bright copper hair, the kind of shiny, sunlit, copper pink tint of a new penny.

Stephanie-in-the-Mirror’s pale skin had strange, whispery, vein-like tendrils of pale green that subtly shifted, pulsed, and slowly swirled from over her heart and across the skin revealed by her V-neck t-shirt.

"I didn't get a green tattoo," I said, because that was the only fact I was absolutely certain of in that moment. In a daze, I trailed my fingers over the lines in my skin.

Helen and Morris were looking away and glancing at me from the corners of their eyes, as if it really did hurt them to look at me.

I leaned in closer for a better look, even though I could see perfectly from where I stood. It was a normal habit, and I was holding onto normalcy like Jordan to a football player.

Haley's cool hands brushed the sides of my neck and rested on my shoulders. His breathing was even and deep against my back, and I realized I had been holding my breath. Wait, how long had I been holding my breath?

Gulping in air, I lifted my eyes to his in the mirror, and he returned my gaze gravely.

"Where is your necklace, princess?" he asked softly.

"My chill," I replied automatically. "She said it was my chill."

Haley's body remained relaxed around me, but his voice was precise and direct, "Who said that?"

"Mom."

"When?"

"Last night? When I got home. No, in my dream. No, I walked in the door. But, I had to have dreamed it. Didn't I? That couldn't have really happened, could it?" My voice was growing high-pitched with a dog-whistle whine behind it.

Haley wrapped his arms around my shoulders and exhaled into my hair. His calm, cool presence stilled the panic that stared back at me from green eyes that were now unnaturally bright—bright enough to make Morris squeeze his eyes shut, and Helen inadvertently turn to bury her face in Zack's chest.

My gaze ping-ponged from Haley to Zack, the only two who could still look me in the eye, and yet, even they seemed to begin wavering just a little.

"What happened last night?" Zack asked quietly, his arms loosely wrapped around Helen's back as his fingers rubbed reassuring circles on her back.

His reflection showed discomfort in the lines of the squint around his eyes, but he held my stare.

Haltingly, I told him and the others about what I thought had been a dream. When I got to the part about the light and the heat, Haley's hand shot out to the counter and convulsively gripped it, sending a million little fractures through the Formica.

"She could have killed you!" he hissed, and I felt his shudder ripple through my own body. Even in the numbness of my panic, it seemed simple and right that what he felt, I should feel.

"I thought it was a dream because I've had so many weird dreams lately," I stated in a flat, muted voice.

"What kind of dreams?" Morris asked, still resolutely facing the door of the restroom.

"Mostly just being in a place that's dark and cold, where there's no up or down," I replied, frowning and trying to call up the printed tissue paper memories of my dreams. "But, once, there were voices. Maybe three voices? They said something weird about life and death, and something unwinding."