Envy (Fury) (22 page)

“It was there, Drea. I saw it.”

“I believe you,” Drea said, turning to face her. “I know someone else who saw it once.” Another pause.

“What? Who? Come on, Drea. Spit it out.” Em thought she already knew the answer.

“Sasha,” Drea said. “Sasha told me about a house in these woods. Before she died. That’s when I gave her the snake pendant.
The one she was wearing when she . . . you know. Jumped.” Drea cleared her throat and looked away.

Something deep within Em was spinning. Like a machine rumbling to life after a long dormancy. The book, the spells, the Furies. She was tantalizingly close to figuring out this awful riddle. But she bit her tongue. At this point, saying too much could get Drea in trouble too.

“And, Em? I found something else,” Drea said, turning slowly back toward Em. She ran her hand nervously over the short-haired side of her head, which was starting to get messy and pixie-ish.

“What?” Em was breathless.

“You’ll have to see for yourself. Go park at the turnaround,” Drea said, pointing ahead. “I’ll take you there now.”

Despite the rain and her fear, Em parked without protesting and trudged with Drea into the woods, approaching, from behind, the clearing where the house would be. Em was certain she’d recognize the area when she stumbled on it, even as twilight continued to deepen around them. As they stomped through the rain, their shoes making sucking noises in the mud, Em looked for familiar signs. There had been a tall pine with a split trunk. She’d know it when she saw it.

“It’s right around this bend,” Drea said. “I can still see some of my footprints in the mud here.”

Em looked up, squinting as hard rain fell into her eyes. There
it was—the pine tree with two trunks, gnarled and stretching into the sky. The house should be right here. . . .

But it wasn’t. There was the clearing, and Em could even smell the acrid scent of smoke, but there was no house here. Not even a foundation. Just a clearing, with something looming in its center. The trees moaned around them.

“This is where . . .” Em trailed off. She swallowed. “It was here. I swear it was.”

“I believe you,” Drea said again. But her eyes were hard. “Come look.” She drew Em closer to whatever small structures were there in the middle of the circle.

Every nerve in Em’s body was screaming for her to run away. Her skin was tingling; her breath was shaky.

“Come on, Em.” Drea was insistent. They were both drenched.

With tentative steps, Em allowed Drea to lead her to what looked like small stone sculptures. No.

Not sculptures. Tombstones.

Three dark tablets, each marked with a carving of a flower. Em instinctively drew back. She knew those flowers. They were the same intricate orchids that the Furies carried. “What—what are these?” she whispered to Drea.

“Graves,” Drea said grimly, as though that wasn’t obvious.

Em’s mind flashed back to Skylar’s story—or rather, Skylar’s aunt’s story—about the three women who had died or been
killed in Ascension’s woods. Three women. Three stone graves. Three Furies.

“Something bad is going to happen soon,” Em whispered. “I can feel it.”

“Something bad is already happening,” Drea said, her voice strained, as it had been in the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

Back in Em’s car, they let an uneasy silence fall between them. Visions of crimson orchids ran through Em’s mind—the one Ali had handed her in Boston, the one Skylar had had pinned to her dress the other night, the ones adorning those headstones back in the woods. The ones that meant you were . . . marked. In her mind, the flowers merged with images from Sasha’s book, and with the stuff of pure imagination. Cauldrons. Bonfires. Sacrifice.

“Here,” Drea said, breaking the quiet as she fished something out of her pocket. Em’s breath caught in her ribs as Drea produced a gold-and-red snake pin from her jacket. “For protection. I noticed you lost yours.”

Em reached out to take it, her hands still shaking. Here was Drea, trying to save another one of her friends from the Furies. Like two magnets with the same charge put together, something seemed to be pushing her hand away from the pin. As she made contact with the metal, she felt a sharp pain in her palm. She gasped, and the pin fell onto to the seat below.

“What’s the matter?” Drea’s tone was sharp.

“I—I must have pricked myself,” Em said, examining her
hand. In the center of her palm was a deep-red mark and a bubble of blood forming where the pin had stabbed her. She wiped it away, leaving a bloody smear that led down to her wrist. She ignored the throbbing in her hand and stuffed the pin in her jeans pocket, Drea’s eyes watching her closely. The rest of the ride home the pin stuck into her hip uncomfortably. Like a cramp, it was impossible to ignore.

So when she got home, she threw it hastily into the back of her T-shirt drawer. Obviously, this good luck charm wasn’t going to work for her any better than it had worked for Sasha.

The idea had come to Skylar late last night: The dance ticket proceeds would go to the school activity budget, as usual, but the school could hold an additional raffle to raise money for the suicide prevention group Gabby had started in the wake of Sasha’s and Chase’s deaths.

The next morning she met with Mrs. Keough, a health teacher and Ascension’s social activities adviser. “It’s all well and good to talk about a suicide prevention club,” Skylar said, furrowing her brow, “but what’s the point if there’s no money to fund it?” She’d arranged her face to look both innocent and concerned, and Keough had gone for it.

The announcement was made over the loudspeaker during homeroom: “Tickets are on sale today for the annual Spring Fling
a week from Friday. We’ve got a great theme this year, courtesy of new student Skylar McVoy—so get your Smoke and Mirrors tattoo tickets while you can! And if you see Skylar in the halls today, thank her for organizing the first-ever Spring Fling raffle! Buy a raffle ticket for an extra five dollars and be entered to win a mystery prize! All raffle proceeds will go to the recently formed Ascension High Suicide Prevention Group. In other news, there’s a swim meet today at . . .”

Skylar floated through the next few periods, feeling as though she was coasting on a cloud. Everyone—even juniors and seniors—smiled at her in the halls. In French, Jenna passed her a note:
Want to hang out after school?
The group of senior girls whom Skylar had noticed on her first day at Ascension—mostly field hockey players, with long, straight blond hair and equally good-looking lacrosse-playing boyfriends—approached her between third and fourth periods.

“Hey, you’re Skylar, right?” said one of them. “I’m Jess. Awesome job with the dance and everything.”

Skylar laughed like it was no big deal. “Oh, thanks,” she said, letting her drawl drag out more than usual. She thought it made her sound more casual. “I’m just trying to bring some southern hospitality up north!”

The girls raised their eyebrows. Another one asked, “Oh, is that where you’re from—down South? I heard that you just moved here, but I didn’t know where from.”

“Yeah, Alabama,” Skylar said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sean and Andy walk by . . . which meant that Pierce was probably nearby too. She hoped he saw her chatting it up with these girls. “So, do you want to buy some tickets—I mean, tattoos?” She pulled a strip from the front pocket of her bag.

Jess nodded, digging in her jeans pocket. “We’re thinking of pregaming with some of the football and lacrosse guys before the dance on Saturday. Want to come?”

“Like, with Sean and Andy?” She tried to sound as though she hung out with them all the time.

“Yeah, all those guys,” another girl said, shelling out her money.

“Maybe,” Skylar said.
You have to seem in demand
. That’s what magazine articles always said about seeming popular and wanted. “I might have plans with Gabby and the girls. I’ll let you know, okay?”

And then the cherry on top of everything: As she walked away from Jess and her friends Pierce appeared around the corner.

“Hey, Sky,” he said with an easy smile. “I’ve been looking for you.”

The feeling of elation made it difficult to breathe. “Really? Well, here I am!” She was going to be late for her next class, but she really didn’t care.

“I wanted to talk to you about the dance,” Pierce said, and
she could swear that he looked nervous. “But I’ve gotta run—I have an English quiz.”

Pierce wanted to talk to
her
about the dance?! Skylar could have cartwheeled down the hall. Instead, she waved him off with a giggle. “Catch me at lunch,” she said, as though she wouldn’t have skipped the entire rest of the school day to hang out with him. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” As soon as he was out of sight, Skylar did a tiny dance of joy.

•  •  •

Halfway into fifth-period lunch she did a mental tally. She’d already sold forty-five tickets today.

“Two tickets?” She smiled, syrupy-sweet, at the boy in front of her—cute, but a bit emo-looking, in a plaid blazer over a vintage T-shirt and jeans. He wore thick-framed glasses, like Fiona. She thought he might be a junior.

“Yeah, two please,” the boy said, holding out ten dollars. Skylar ripped off two temporary tattoos and placed his cash in the metal box she’d been given by the front office.

Then, in a fake-stern voice, she issued a reminder: “Don’t put them on until the night of. . . . We don’t want their invisible powers to rub off!” She looked up at him. “Would you like to buy a raffle ticket for an additional five dollars? Proceeds go to the Ascension High Suicide Prevention Group.”

“Shutting down the whole damn school would probably be more effective than starting a club, but sure, I’ll buy one,” he
muttered, putting his books on the cafeteria table so he could get more money from his wallet.

“Great, thanks!” Skylar said, not really knowing if he was making fun of her or not. “What name should I put down?”

“I’m JD,” the boy said, running a hand through his messy hair. “JD Fount.”

As she racked her brain to think where she’d heard that name before, she caught a glimpse of Gabby’s bouncing curls out the window that overlooked the parking lot, and a prick of anxiety pierced her bubble of confidence. She hadn’t had the chance to run the raffle idea by her. Which she should have, of course, since Gabby was technically in charge of the dance. . . .

As Gabby and her companion came into clearer view, Skylar’s heart sank even lower. Gabby was walking with Pierce. They both held waxy paper bags from Dunkin’ Donuts, and their strides were in step. Now Skylar’s bubble deflated entirely. A little off-campus coffee date. During the lunch period when Pierce was supposed to find
her
, to talk to
her
about the dance. She watched them circumvent the entrance to the cafeteria, presumably heading straight for their sixth-period classes. She swallowed hard; her mouth felt dry. She only sold two more tickets for the rest of lunch.

•  •  •

As soon as the last bell rang, Skylar headed for the ice cream shop. The hollow feeling in her stomach hadn’t dissipated after
lunch. With the image of Gabby and Pierce coming back from their lunchtime romp pounding in her mind, she’d skipped sixth period to find Meg, but when she’d arrived at Get the Scoop, she’d found the place bolted shut and dark inside. She’d pressed her face to the glass. All of the tables and chairs were stacked in a corner, almost as if it was closed for the season.

She texted Meg:
Why aren’t you at work? I need to talk to you
.

I’ll be there after school,
Meg wrote back almost immediately.
See you soon.

And she was. As soon as Skylar walked in the doors and saw Meg presiding cheerfully over the empty store, Skylar wanted to cry. Thankfully, she held it together.

“Hey, girl, what’s the matter?” Meg leaped off her wobbly stool and glided over to where Skylar was standing, blinking fast.

“I came by earlier and you weren’t here,” Skylar said, pouting. “The whole place was locked up.”

Meg waved her hand vaguely. “Oh, I just open it up when I need a shift,” she said airily. “It is winter, after all. Not a big demand for ice cream. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“Everything was going
so
well,” Skylar choked out, trying to regain her composure.

“Yeah? They liked the raffle idea?” Meg put her skinny arm around Skylar’s waist and maneuvered her toward one of the shop’s uncomfortable wire chairs.

“Yes.” Skylar sniffed. “But—it doesn’t make any difference.”

“Why not? What do you mean?” Meg motioned for her to keep talking as she leaned over to grab some napkins so Skylar could blow her nose.

“Gabby will always be cooler than me,” Skylar burst out, “no matter what I do. And every guy will always pick her over me. Pierce will
never
like me back. Everyone in school was paying attention to me today. But he still chose her. He still went to Dunkin’ Donuts with her.” Skylar’s voice rose to a whine as she finished her sentence.

“Hold on, hold on.” Meg held up both hands. “That doesn’t
necessarily
mean he likes her, Sky. You know that. Maybe it was just a friendly coffee date . . . ?”

Skylar frowned. “It wasn’t friendly, just like it wasn’t friendly when he tried to kiss her at the pj party. He said he had to talk to me about the dance, and then he completely flaked!” She let out a moan. “I hate her.” She felt a twinge of guilt as soon as she pronounced the words. She didn’t hate Gabby. She loved her. Gabby was her only friend. Besides Meg, of course.

Meg brushed one of Skylar’s loose curls out of her face. “I can see how much you like Pierce,” Meg said sympathetically. “And believe me, I know how it feels when someone else has what you want. But Pierce will notice you, I know it. He just needs to see that you have things to offer that Gabby doesn’t.” Meg tilted her head in the way she did sometimes, like a bird looking down at her from above. “Want some ice cream?”

Ice cream was the
last
thing she wanted right now. Even
thinking about it made her stomach turn. “No,” she said. “I want to know what I could possibly have that Gabby doesn’t. She’s pretty and perfect, and that’s why everyone loves her.”