Echo (21 page)

“I’m sure you look amazing,” Xotichl says. “But that’s not what I meant.”

Oh.
I look at her, wondering just what her blindsight is telling her.

“Part of you is stronger.” She lifts her hand from my mine, allowing it to hover as she assesses my energy. “And yet, part of you is
not
.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me earlier today. Paloma taught me to manipulate the elements. If it’s up to me, you’ll have your white Christmas and then some…” My voice drifts along with my gaze, claimed by the girl just a few tables away.

The new girl.

The one with the wild hair and exotic good looks.

She’s talking with Jacy and Crickett and a handful of boys whose names I keep forgetting.

“Daire—” Xotichl squeezes my fingers. Trying to stop me from staring, stop me from asking the question we both know is coming.

But I can’t stop either of those things.

“Who is she?” I ask, knowing there’s no need to explain who I’m talking about.

Noting the way Xotichl’s voice grows soft and resigned when she says, “Her name’s Phyre. Phyre Youngblood. Pronounced like fire—but spelled with a
P H Y
.”

Phyre.

Pronounced like fire.

The very element I bonded with—learned to control. And yet, Phyre the person leaves me feeling completely outclassed
.

“How do you know her? How come all of you seem to know her?”

I’m still staring, unable to look anywhere else. Watching as she laughs in a way that sends a cascade of curls bouncing over her shoulders, exposing a long, graceful curve of neck. Her movements so fluid, so elegant, so endlessly watchable—the boys can’t help but stare with unbridled longing, while Jacy and Crickett look on with unabashed envy.

She presses a hand to her mouth, hushing herself, as the boy standing before her—Brendan? Bryce? whatever—all I know for sure is that the sheer sight of her causes him to inch just a little bit closer, as though warming himself in her glow.

But the second she turns toward me, catching me staring, I tear my gaze away. Feeling awkward, stupid, and clumsy—wondering if I should maybe add the word
jealous
to the quickly growing list of my faults.

“She used to live here,” Xotichl says, pulling me back to my original question. “Then her mom disappeared and her siblings, Ashe and Ember, went to live with their aunt, while Phyre moved away with her dad. But now, apparently, they’re back. Or at least that’s the nutshell version.”

“Yeah? And what’s the other version—the one you’re keeping from me?”

I study her closely, knowing she’s only trying to be a good friend and protect me from things like “wrong ideas” or “hurt feelings,” but it’s too late for that. My mind is already spinning with ideas—both wrong and hurtful—and only the truth can set me straight.

The fact is, I saw the way Phyre looked at Dace.

I also saw the way he could barely bring himself to return the gaze.

There’s a story there.

One that probably has nothing to do with me—one that’s no doubt none of my business. And yet I still need to hear it, so I can try to make sense of the strange way I’m feeling.

So I can determine if there truly is something odd about Phyre—or if I’m just acting petty and feel threatened by the arrival of a girl who just so happens to be unbelievably pretty. One who may or may not share a past with my boyfriend.

Am I just pulling a Lita?

Or is there something substantial to worry about?

Having never been in this kind of situation before, it’s hard for me to read. Still, I’m really hoping the blame falls on Phyre—not me.

“You have nothing to worry about. Dace loves you and only you, you already know that.”

I look at Xotichl, seeing the veil of regret that crosses her face at revealing even that much. Knowing whatever she tells me only serves to add fuel to my fire—Phyre?—it’s now one and the same.

“Just tell me,” I plead. “What’s their connection? I mean, obviously they were together, but just
how
together?” I stare hard at Xotichl, remembering what Dace told me the other day at the not-so Enchanted Spring. How he’d only been with one other girl. And knowing deep down in my heart it was Phyre.

Xotichl sighs, toys with her bottle of water. “They both grew up on the reservation.”

“
And
—” I watch as she squirms, shifting uncomfortably on her seat. And while the sight of it makes me feel bad, that doesn’t stop me from pushing her further. “Look, I get it, okay? Everyone has a past. Heck, practically the whole school knows about my Vane Wick flameout.”

“No, not
practically
.
Everyone
knows. Even the teachers were talking about it.”

She grins. I laugh. But then I’m right back at it again.

“There’s something different here. I get the feeling she’s not quite done with him—not quite …
over
him. Or am I being paranoid? Am I acting like some pathetically jealous girlfriend who freaks at every pretty girl who so much as looks at her boyfriend? Because if that’s the case, you need to tell me right now, so we can stage an intervention and find a quick way to eradicate it.”

“Look,” Xotichl says. “I’m not up on all the dirt, but yeah, I heard the rumors, and Lita pretty much confirmed they had a thing. And when she confronted Dace about it today at lunch, he didn’t exactly deny it. She really gave him hell about it too. Told him he better not mess with you, or he’d have to answer to her.”

We turn toward the stage where Lita stands to the side, ready to grab the mic the second Auden’s guitar solo ends.

“She’s a very strange but surprisingly loyal friend. I can never quite get a handle on her. Anyway, it was impressive stuff. It’s too bad you missed it.”

“So, then you’re saying it’s true. I am being a jealous freak.” I turn toward Xotichl and slouch on my stool. Wondering if there’s a quick fix for envy—maybe a spell or an herb I can take?

“No,” Xotichl says, voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m not saying that at all. There is something weird about her just showing up out of the blue. And so far, I can’t quite get a grip on her energy. But I will, just give me time. Though as far as Dace is concerned, you have nothing to worry about. Or, should I say, nothing but Cade, anyway.”

Oh yeah. Him
. As awful as it felt to be mired in my pathetic pool of jealousy, it did provide a nice respite from obsessing over a much bigger threat that looms large before me.

“Think he’ll show up for the gift exchange?”

The question wasn’t meant to be serious. It’s just something I said to lighten the mood. Though before Xotichl can reply, we’re interrupted by Lita wrangling control of the mic.

She stands before us, her Santa hat tipped low over one eye, giving an extra edge to her sexy Mrs. Claus look. Roaming the length of the stage, allowing everyone an equal view. “I just want to thank all of you for taking the time to come to my Annual Rabbit Hole Christmas Party!” She pauses in a way that prompts the audience to whistle and cheer, shushing them when she deems it’s gone on long enough. “There’s a lot of new faces out there, and I know how excited you must be to finally be included. Just think of it as my little gift to you!” She pauses again, and when the cheers are a little more subdued than the last time, she places a hand on her hip and frowns until they kick it up enough to prompt her to proceed. “And speaking of gifts, for all of you Secret Santas out there, it’s time for the gift exchange—so, no need to delay, you know the drill—let the wrapping paper fly!”

She passes the mic back to Auden and exits the stage, as Epitaph breaks into a chorus of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” that sounds a lot like the Weezer version Jennika has on her iPod.

“So—how’d I do?” Lita stands before us all breathless and pretty as she readjusts her hat.

“Great!” I say.

“Excellent!” Xotichl confirms.

But Lita just chews on her lip, unconvinced.

“You know, I really thought he’d show.” She crosses her arms over her chest, as she does a quick scan of the club. Responding to the questioning look on my face, she says, “Cade. I’m talking about Cade. He’s gone completely MIA.”

“Lita, you’re not … you’re not still into him, are you?” I peer into her eyes, searching for signs of soul loss, which only seems to annoy her.

“Stop with the probing stare. You’re freaking me out. But to answer your question,
no
—I’m not into Cade. Not at all. Not even a teensy, weensy bit. But at the same time I can’t help thinking how he’s all too aware of just how hard I work on this party. He knows how much it means to me. Heck, I’ve been organizing this thing going all the way back to sixth grade. And broken heart or not, it’s completely rude of him to just blow me and my party off like we don’t exist.”

“But maybe it’s too painful for him to be around you,” Xotichl says, giving me a swift kick under the table that warns me to play along.

“Yeah, maybe he doesn’t want you to see what happens when he gets really upset?” I say, which only succeeds in garnering a weird look from both Xotichl and Lita alike.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Lita frowns. “I swear you are such an enigma to me. Anyway, the thing is, if Cade’s going to continue to pine over me, then the least he could do is have the decency to show up and pine in person. He could at least give me the satisfaction of seeing it firsthand!”

Xotichl and I nod, as though we totally understand.

“Well, at least his twin’s here. That should make
you
happy, right?”

I follow the length of her gaze all the way to where Dace stands, looking tall, lean, strong, gorgeous. His gaze instantly finding mine as an uncertain smile lights up his face.

“Listen—” I force myself to look away as I retrieve a small envelope from my pocket and shove it into Lita’s hand. “I’m not really sure how this Secret Santa thing works, but can you give this to Dace?”

Xotichl leans toward it, attempting to read its energy, while Lita pinches it between her index finger and thumb, her voice as disdainful as her expression. “What’d you do, Santos—write him a twenty-dollar check?”

“Just—” I turn toward Dace. He’s heading toward me, only a few feet away. Then I turn back to Lita, my voice hurried as I say, “Can you please do it?”

“Whatever. Your wish is my command.” She tucks the envelope under her arm as I shoot for the back door. Calling after me to say, “Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I put my money toward these boots, cool, huh?”

But I just keep running, plowing through the exit before Dace can reach me.

twenty-nine

Dace

When I’m ready to face her, I push through the door. Calling on all of my senses, just like Leftfoot taught me, to locate Daire in the throng. And the second I see her, everything stops.

The noise dims.

The light fades.

The room goes quiet and hazy except for the nimbus of soft golden light that surrounds her.

She’s beautiful.

I already knew that, of course. Yet seeing her now, with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, and her gaze burning on mine, I’m instantly transported to the day at the Enchanted Spring. Reminded of the way she looked lying beneath me, just after we …

I shake my head, check my pocket again to ensure that her gift is still there and make my way toward her. Covering more than half the room in just a handful of steps, only to watch her turn on her heel and bolt for the back door, as Lita steps before me and says, “This is for you.” She shoves a small, rectangular envelope into my hand. “Please keep in mind that it’s not from me. So, if it’s as lame as I think, don’t shoot the messenger. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She waves to someone across the room and leaves me flipping the envelope back and forth in my palm. It’s from Daire, that much I know. But since I can’t sense its contents, I’m reluctant to open it.

Is it some kind of official breakup letter?

Some change-of-heart memo that states:
I know you think you broke up with me, but really I’m breaking up with you—
?

Is that why she ran out the back door the second she saw me?

Or am I just being paranoid?

“Maybe you should open it and see,” Xotichl says, reading into my energy as she comes over to join me.

Of course, she’s right. No use standing here guessing. I slip a finger under the flap, and retrieve a heavy piece of cream-colored paper featuring a hand-scrawled map, which, though it doesn’t make any immediate sense, at least is not as bad as I imagined.

“Can I guess?” Xotichl asks, grinning when Auden comes up from behind her and plants a kiss on her cheek.

I hand her the map and stare down at my feet. I can’t watch them together. Their happiness makes me long for Daire so much it aches.

Xotichl screws her mouth to the side and runs her fingertips back and forth across the page. “Oh, it’s a map! Like a treasure hunt—how fun!” She returns it to me.

“How do you do that?” It’s not the first time I’ve asked such a thing.

But, like always, Xotichl just laughs as Auden jabs a thumb over his shoulder and says, “I think she went that way.”

I make for the door. Pushing past everyone who gets in my way, eager to be with Daire once again, see what she’s planned. When Phyre purposely inserts herself into my path and in a whispered voice says, “Hey, Dace.”

Her lips begin a slow curl as her gaze travels over me. But I don’t have time for this, and I’m quick to tell her as much. “Yeah, hey. Listen, I’m kind of in a hurry, so—” I start to move past her, but just like Leandro did in the alleyway, Phyre shadows me, insisting on having her say.

“Can’t you spare a few seconds for an old friend?” She cocks her head to the side, her eyes gleaming flirtatiously, but it’s wasted on me. Daire is my present. My future. Phyre is history. “It’s been such a long time.” She adopts the kind of timid demeanor that just doesn’t suit her. She’s not shy. Never has been. This is how she operates.