Pretty Dark Nothing (11 page)

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Quinn cracked the door and peeked into the hall. Aaron tapped out a rhythm on the metal door of his locker as he spun the numbers of his combination. He turned, as if he sensed her watching. She fumbled the door shut and pressed herself against the tiled wall. She had forgotten his locker was right across the hall. She cracked the door again. Aaron switched a book from his backpack with one from his locker. He was a mix of rugged and broody with piercing green eyes—the complete opposite of the all-American, preppy Jeff. A pen slid from his hand and he bent to pick it up. Her cheeks grew hot. Part of her wanted,
needed
, to talk to him, but uncertainty held her back. Had he hung up on her because he thought she was crazy, or had the random phone malfunction cut her off? There was only one way to find out. Talking to Aaron would be the only thing good about her day, so why was she still hiding in the bathroom? Before her courage waned, she checked her hair in the mirror, squared her shoulders, and stepped through the door.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, freak.” Quinn stumbled as Kerstin rammed into her.

“Just leave me alone, all right?” Quinn rubbed her arm where Kerstin’s shoulder had hit her.

“Now, what would Quinn Perfect be doing hiding in the bathroom?”

“I wasn’t hiding.” Quinn tried to push past her, but Kerstin wedged her arm against the doorframe.

She prayed Aaron would notice what was happening and rescue her like he had so many times before. As if on cue, he closed his locker and turned around. His eyes found hers, and the world slowed. Knowing he was there with her, that he saw her, gave her strength. The world rushed back into sync as he turned and gave his attention to a girl with dark, spiky hair: Marie. Marie adjusted the collar of Aaron’s shirt, and he laughed at something she said. He picked up his backpack, and Marie brushed against him. They both laughed at the awkward moment. Aaron offered his arm, and Marie took it. As they passed Quinn, he glanced her way. She tried to hold his attention with a smile, but he looked away and turned his smile back to Marie. Quinn slumped against the doorframe.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kerstin cocked her head.

“You’ve had your fun for the day, and I’ve got to get to class.” Quinn ducked under Kerstin’s arm.

“Oh, the fun’s just beginning.” Kerstin let her go. “You’re lucky I’m on my way to meet Jeff. See you at the pep rally, Quinn Perfect.”

Quinn was past caring. What could Kerstin really do to her? All she cared about was why Aaron had walked right past her. Maybe the connection she felt to him was just in her head, along with everything else. Maybe it was for the best. He couldn’t help her anyway. No one could.

***

The locker room smelled of hairspray and sweat. Laughter and excitement energized the Westland High Fillies as they primped before the big pep rally, but Quinn dreaded walking into the gym. She was still technically on the team—allowed to wear the uniform, attend practices, pep-rallies, and games as normal—everything but actually cheer. She was still a Filly, but a lame one, put out to pasture. As if humiliation would motivate her to get her grades up.

“I still can’t believe your mom let you skip school to get a haircut.” Teresa applied pink gloss to her full lips, handed the tube to Quinn, and fished a can of Aqua Net from her gym bag. “Did she really call in sick for you? She’s so cool! My mom would never do that.”

“It was a surprise mother-daughter day,” she lied. “She thought I deserved a little pampering.”

“Well, I love the new haircut. You’re like a blond Alice Cullen. Totally vampire-chic.”

Quinn fingered the chunky, short strands that fell just below her ears. She still wasn’t used to it. It made her head look too small and her eyes too big. It had taken the stylist two hours, and Quinn more than a few tears, to fix the damage.

“You’ll never guess what happened at lunch.” Teresa plastered her onyx hair down on all sides, making sure no loose ends escaped. “Marcus asked me out! Can you believe it?”

“You said no, of course,” Quinn said.

“Well, no. You weren’t there to back me up. You know how persistent he can be. Besides, he’s cute, and homecoming’s next Saturday. That’s exactly eight days from today.” Teresa coughed and waved her hands in front of her to clear the hairspray fumes. “Besides, I don’t think I should hold out for Aaron. He’s seriously stuck on you.”

Quinn winced at the sound of his name.

“How could anyone, even a freak like Aaron Collier, want leftovers like Quinn Taylor?” Kerstin shoved her way between Teresa and Quinn, grabbing the hairspray from Teresa’s hand. “Haven’t you all noticed how he wears long sleeves, even when it’s ninety degrees out? What’s up with that? If you ask me, he’s hiding something. His dad probably beats him.”

“Well, we didn’t ask, and this is a private conversation. Hey, don’t you think you should put on some more makeup? You wouldn’t want anyone to see your real face.” Quinn shoved a bag of makeup at Kerstin and smiled sweetly.

Kerstin returned her smile with a saccharine one. “At least I know how to stand on my own feet. What a desperate act from a desperate loser. If you thought that little fainting spell and a new ugly ass haircut would get Jeff back, you were wrong. He wanted to break up with you last year, you know. He only stayed with you because he felt sorry for you after your dad left. That’s not all he told me when we were in bed together … ”

“You’re such a liar.” Teresa stepped in front of Quinn, fists on her hips, black eyes scowling, ready for a fight.

“What’s wrong, Quinn? Missed lunch? Too weak to fight your own battles?”

A shrill whistle broke the tension. “Okay, girls, time for warm-ups.” When nobody moved, Coach White blew her whistle again. “I mean now, ladies.”

“Come on, Kerstin, these losers aren’t worth it,” Spring said.

“You’re right. Quinn’s already humiliated herself enough. How many times have you been mistaken for a boy today with that haircut and flat chest?” Kerstin flipped her ponytail, hitting Quinn in the face. “You better hurry, Quinn, the pep rally can’t start without the head cheerleader. Oh, right, that’s me. Try to keep that bench warm.” Kerstin and Spring laughed, slamming the door behind them.

“Just ignore her.”

“Easy for you to say. She’s not sleeping with your boyfriend.”

“
Ex
-boyfriend.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Quinn said.

“Please! Kerstin is lying about sleeping with Jeff. And if he is sleeping with that monster, then he’s more of a jerk than I thought. He’s so not worth it,” Teresa said.

“Monster? Have you looked at her lately? She’s beautiful. Gorgeous red hair. Long legs. My legs are so stubby and short. And let’s not forget her boobs. She’s right, my chest looks like a boy’s.”

“Have you actually met Kerstin? Hello? Snotty, loudmouth, gossipy, shallow, liar, and, let’s not forget, mean. Do you really want to be like her? She’s not even fit to clean gum off the bottom of your shoe.”

“Yeah, just good enough to sleep with my boyfriend.” Quinn clipped a stray hair back with a bobby pin to keep it out of her face.

“
Ex
-boyfriend. I know it’s not easy, but you’ve got to face reality. They’re together. Whether he’s sleeping with her or not has nothing to do with you.” Reese shoved the makeup bag and spray can back in her gym bag and threw it in her locker. “Come on, we’ve got to get going.”

“Do you really think they’re sleeping together?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. And neither should you. Let’s go.” Teresa held the door for Quinn.

“I’ll be right behind you. Nature calls.”

“Okay, but hurry up. Coach White will have your ass if you’re late.”

Alone, Quinn took a deep breath, invoking the silence of the locker room to quiet her butterflies. She cupped her hands and splashed cool water on her face. Rivers of droplets flowed down her cheeks, pouring like tears into the shallow basin of the porcelain sink. She reached for a paper towel to dry her face as a locker screeched and clanged shut behind her. She whirled around.

“Reese?”

No answer. Quinn turned back to the mirror to check her makeup. Steam covered the glass, like someone had taken a hot shower. The drip of the faucet, amplified by the metal gym lockers, resounded like the tapping of a spoon on a water glass. Her hand trembled as she wiped the condensation with her sleeve.

She stared into the unreality of the looking glass; her reflection peered back. A gray fog surrounded her mirror image, smothering the room in gloom. Mesmerized, she watched the cloud writhe and squirm, growing darker and denser as it twisted itself into the claws and fangs of a living nightmare.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Quinn thought as she pressed herself back against the lockers.

The mirror held the beast’s complete image like a photograph. It sat on Quinn’s shoulder and cocked its head, an oversized prune with eyes, and clicked a forked tongue. Four leathery wings sprouted from a lithe, catlike body. The fog writhed around it—one moment covering the entire beast, leaving only disembodied, glowing orange eyes—then retreating to reveal the full horror of the creature.

And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came!

Unlike the boy in the poem, Quinn had no vorpal sword to slay her foe.

Not daring to look away from the reflection, she tentatively inched her hand up her arm until it reached where the thing should be. Her fingers didn’t find anything on her own shoulder, but the reflection showed a demon wrapping its tail around her wrist. Saliva dripped from its thick tongue as it slowly licked the back of her hand. She grabbed at the beast, tearing at her uniform to throw it off, but she clutched nothing but air and fabric.

What she saw in the glass wasn’t really there at all.

She turned back to the mirror, determined her imagination ran on a creepy path that she controlled. But there it sat, crouched on her shoulder, wisps of living smoke, coiled to strike. Her chest ached as cords of panic constricted her breathing. She took a step back and groped the bench beside her in search of a weapon.

“
We’re here to help you, Quinn. You need us.
” The demon, the smoke, and the voice worked like one symbiotic being. Each fused with the other, their whispers and actions overlapping.

Quinn shook her head. “You’re not real.” Her hand grasped a hairdryer one of the girls had left out, and she hurled it at the demon.

The mirror shattered. A dozen shards crashed to the floor, and, with each smash, a demon ascended through the portal of broken glass, corporeal, freed from their confinement inside Quinn’s illusion.

“Aren’t we?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The gym buzzed as all six hundred students of Westland High crowded onto the bleachers for Friday’s pep rally. All pep rallies were mandatory. “Have school spirit or else,” was Westland’s motto.

Aaron and Marcus waded toward the gym floor with a crowd of seniors oozing with school spirit. Those who were anti-school spirit swam against the stream, clawing their way to the top of the bleachers, as far from the madness as they could get.

Aaron watched the mascot jump around in a costume with so many faded patches it looked more like a piebald horse than a wild mustang. Bored with the antics, Aaron turned his attention to the signs that covered the walls.

Poster One: The Invitation

Student council of Westland High

Invites YOU

To The Annual Homecoming Dance

Yesterday, he’d actually considered asking Quinn to homecoming. Now he knew that had been a fantasy.

Poster Two: The Information

When? Next Saturday night

Where? In the gym

Tickets $15 a Couple

He should forget about her, but he couldn’t get her out of his head. He had sensed her distress in the hallway with Kerstin. She’d wanted him to interrupt. One look in her eyes, and he’d almost caved.

If Marie hadn’t shown up, he would have put himself right in the middle of it. And for what? His usual thanks? To have her push him away again?

Poster Three: The Evisceration

Be Sure to Join us Next Friday Night as we

Rip the Raiders

In our Annual Homecoming Game

Which brought him to the thing that bugged him the most—why would she block his number? It didn’t make sense. Why would you ask someone to call you, hang up on them, and then block their number?

Maybe he had been too hard on her. Maybe her phone had died or she’d hit a wrong button to block him by mistake, a misunderstanding. Or maybe she really didn’t want to talk to him, and he should stop making excuses for her. Marcus was right. She was damaged goods. Better to stay away from her.

A girl dressed in blue and white, her face painted like a cat, drew Aaron’s attention back to the gym floor.

“Here, Kitty, Kitty. Here, Kitty, Kitty. STOMP!” screamed a blond girl next to Aaron, her voice picking up others as the chant roared around the gym like a hurricane. With the urging of the crowd, the mustang chased the wildcat around and around the gym, bringing roars of laughter from his adoring fans.

Aaron laughed too, caught up in the frenzy of school spirit, and chanted along. “Here, Kitty, Kitty. Here, Kitty, Kitty. STOMP!”

Cornered, the cat rolled over on her back, cowering in fear as the mustang placed its mighty, ragged hoof on her belly, raising another holey hoof in the air. Victory.

“Look, there’s Reese,” Marcus yelled over the racket. “She is such a hottie.”

Fifteen cheerleaders, both Varsity and JV, stood in perfect formation.

Quinn was usually the first one through the doors, and she never missed a pep rally. Aaron’s stomach turned. “Do you see Quinn?”

“Why? Getting bored of being Clark Kent today? You must be dying to get into your blue tights again. Man, spandex does you justice. There’s not a girl in school who doesn’t wish she were your Lois Lane, or should I say, Quinn Taylor. Hey, if you develop the ability to see through walls, promise me you’ll take a look into the girls’ locker room.”