The Golden Spiral (7 page)

“It’s a wonder you managed to graduate at all since apparently you have the attention span of a gnat,” Hannah muttered.

I aimed a kick at her ankle, which she deftly avoided. Little sisters were the worst.

“Be nice,” Dad chided both of us.

“Cindy!” Mom called out, standing on her toes and waving the graduation program in the air. “Cindy, over here!”

Cindy Kimball wove through the crowd, trailing Jason’s younger sister, Bethany, behind her. When Cindy reached us, she threw her arms around me in a lung-crushing hug. “I’m so proud of you, Abby. Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” I managed to squeak before she let me go in order to hug Mom and Dad and even Hannah. I rubbed at my chest, trying to introduce the circulation back into it. I couldn’t help but smile a little, though. Cindy’s enthusiasm was one of the things I loved about her.

“Isn’t it exciting that Jason and Abby are going to school together?” Cindy squeezed my mom’s arm. “You’d almost think we planned it that way.”

Mom laughed. “Now, Cindy, they seem to be doing just fine without us interfering.”

“But isn’t that our job? To interfere in our children’s lives?” Cindy winked at me.

I saw Hannah roll her eyes; Bethany leaned over to whisper something in Hannah’s ear. The two of them looked at me and laughed. I wished I could stick my tongue out at them, but Mom was watching me. Plus, now that I was officially a high-school graduate, I thought maybe I should act like one.

I did, however, want to put an end to this line of conversation. It was clear that Cindy thought I was still dating her son. And since neither Mom nor Dad had corrected her, it was safe to assume that the only person who knew the relationship was off was me. I had to get Jason and Natalie together—the sooner the better. Maybe in this version of the river Mom and Cindy still expected me and Jason to end up together, but I knew in the real world that wasn’t supposed to happen. How many times was I going to have to break someone’s heart?

“Where is Jason?” I asked.

Cindy looked around, unconcerned that perhaps she had misplaced one of her brood. “Oh, he’s around somewhere, I suspect. He’s taking you out tonight, isn’t he? I heard there was a party . . .”

I swallowed, feeling the sour churn of acid in my stomach. The ripple of change was growing wider, reaching further.

“I already have plans for tonight,” I started, quickly tacking on “with Jason” when I saw Cindy’s eyebrows lift in an unspoken question. “Yes. I have a date with Jason tonight.” The words felt wooden and clunky. I hoped they didn’t sound that way to anyone else.

“Mom, can we go now?” Hannah said, shifting back and forth. “This is boring.”

“It won’t seem that way when it’s your graduation. And no, we can’t leave yet. Abby still needs to turn in her cap and gown, and the principal wanted to talk to her before we go.”

“Hannah’s welcome to come home with us,” Cindy offered. “It’s no bother.”

“If you’re sure—” Mom started, but by then Hannah and Bethany were already racing each other for the double doors.

“Well, I guess it’s time for us to go,” Cindy said, laughing. She reached over and squeezed my arm again. “Congratulations, dear. We’re all so very proud of you.”

Mom wrapped her arm around my shoulder in a quick hug. Dad headed out into the crowd, clearing a small pathway for us to follow.

“Do you know what the principal wants to talk about?” I asked.

Mom hesitated, then hugged my shoulder again. “No, but I’m sure it’s nothing bad.”

Well, that didn’t help calm my fears. I felt uneasy as we left the crowded graduation ceremony for the slightly less-crowded hallway outside the principal’s office.

In all my years in high school, I’d never been inside the principal’s office except for the interview I’d done for the school paper. I tried to still my nerves. So much had already changed today, I hoped that what was waiting for me behind Principal Adams’s door was good news.

***

Principal Adams’s office hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d been in there. He still had the same framed pictures on the wall, the same dark brown desk with a stack of bright yellow legal pads on the corner, the same chipped coffee mug next to his computer. Principal Adams himself hadn’t changed much either: brown hair, brown suit, tired eyes. I breathed a small sigh of relief. With all the other changes going on around me, it was nice to find a spot that seemed untouched.

“Ah, Mr. Edmunds, Mrs. Edmunds. Thank you for coming.” Principal Adams looked up as we entered and rose to shake hands with my mom. “I’m sorry this is on such short notice.”

“It was no problem,” Mom said, smiling.

“What’s this all about?” Dad asked. I wondered the same thing.

“Please, have a seat.” Principal Adams gestured to the empty chairs in front of his desk. In addition to his two standard threadbare chairs, three additional chairs crowded close by, a mismatched trio obviously pulled into the office at the last minute. It seemed he was expecting a larger crowd than the three of us. Maybe Hannah had done the right thing in escaping when she’d had the chance.

“It’s good to see you again, Abby,” he said, directing a smile my way. “I could not have asked for a better student—a better valedictorian. You have done the school proud.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. In my real life, I didn’t deserve his praise, and I felt like a fraud sitting beneath his wide smile.

“And where is Hannah?” he asked.

“She headed home with a friend,” Dad said. “I thought you wanted to talk about Abby.”

“I do, but I thought the whole family might have enjoyed hearing the good news together.”

“Good news?” Mom asked, leaning forward in her chair.

“Oh, yes.” Principal Adams glanced between my parents and me, his smile growing wider. “It is good news indeed.”

I swallowed, feeling a small flicker of anticipation in my chest. After all the bad things that had happened, was it possible something good was coming my way?

“I know you applied to several schools,” he said directly to me. “And I know you have had your pick of places to go.” He paused, obviously savoring his next words. “In all your college shopping, did you ever consider Emery College?”

My heart almost stopped. It had only been a couple of hours since my terrible phone call to Dr. Cooke’s office. I frantically tried to figure out what the right answer was to his question. Emery had declined my application, and yet that meant they
had
an application to decline. Which meant that I had, at some point in this changed past, sent them an application.

“Um, yes,” I said quietly. “It sounded like a great school. I thought about going there.”
But not now,
I thought.
Not until I can get my real life back on track.

“You did?” Mom said. “I thought you wanted to go to USC.”

“Well, they said yes, but—”

“USC is a fine school,” Principal Adams interrupted and held up his hands in a calming gesture as though we had been arguing the fact. “But Emery is a little different.”

“Like, Ivy League different?” Dad sounded worried. My family couldn’t afford that kind of price tag—not then, not now.

“Better.” Principal Adams beamed. “Emery College is an extremely exclusive institution and they are perhaps the most selective of all the liberal arts colleges in the country. They take only the best of the best, and they offer a single full-ride scholarship a year.” His eyes danced. “Which is yours, Abby, if you want it.”

“What?” The word felt like a thousand-pound weight on my tongue. I could barely get it out.

“Wait, say that again,” Dad said, sitting forward.

My thoughts tumbled end over end; I tried to find a stable idea to hold on to and get my bearings. Emery had said no; now they wanted to offer me a full-ride scholarship? I didn’t understand. I pressed a hand flat against my stomach, wondering if I’d missed that internal warning system that things were shifting. But there hadn’t been any noticeable pain. No white flashes, no crippling nausea. I looked to my parents for help, but they looked as confused as I felt.

Principal Adams smiled a little. “I know this news is a surprise, but believe me, this is quite an honor for you, for Abby, and for the school. I’d like to introduce you to someone.” He pressed a button on the phone on his desk. “Rachel, would you send him in, please?”

“Abby, what do you think? I mean, I thought you’d settled on USC. Would you like to change?” Mom touched my arm.

It was hard to get a read on what she wanted me to do. Now that things had changed, I didn’t know what kind of conversations had happened before this. I didn’t know if we had argued, if I’d begged and pleaded to go to USC, or if they had made the decision and insisted I obey.

Even though I didn’t know what had happened in the past, I knew what I wanted to happen in my future. Emery had always been my first choice—my only choice—and if I could still go, then my decision was easy.

The door opened behind me. Principal Adams stood up, came around the desk, and held out his hand for the visitor. “Thank you for being here. I’m sorry for the wait.”

“It’s no problem,” a deep voice replied, the trace of an accent underscoring his words.

I knew that accent. I knew that voice.

It was—I twisted in my chair—no one I knew.

He was tall, dressed in a finely tailored suit with a dark red tie knotted at his throat. He carried a black leather briefcase in one hand. A mane of dark brown hair surrounded his face. Round, wire glasses framed a pair of faded blue eyes.

Those eyes flicked a glance at me so quick it felt like a whip-kiss against my face, a strange combination of warning and welcome.

I jolted back, startled and stunned.

It was Leo.

Memories crowded behind my eyes, each one vying for attention. Leo, behind the golden-railed bar at the Dungeon, a white towel slung over his shoulder, a story in his eyes. Leo, hunched over a table in the darkness, rubbing at the faded chains on his wrists, a confession on his lips. Leo, carrying me to safety while an inferno raged behind him.

What was he doing here in Principal Adams’s office? And when had he started working for Emery College?

“Mr. and Mrs. Edmunds, I’d like you to meet Mr. Casella. He’s made a special trip here to talk to you and Abby about Emery College. Mr. Casella, this is the Edmunds family. And this”—he gestured to me—“is Abby.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Leo said in his rumbly voice as he shook hands with my parents.

I stared at the scene in equal parts amazement, surprise, and fear. My parents smiled at Leo as though they’d never seen him before. But that was impossible. They knew Leo from the Dungeon; they knew him as Dante’s guardian. He had even come to my house once.

But perhaps they simply didn’t recognize him. I hadn’t at first, and I had seen him more often—and more recently—than my parents had.

Mom nudged me on the shoulder, breaking into my confused thoughts, and I stood up, automatically extending my hand to Leo.

“It’s nice to meet you, Abby,” he said, meeting my eyes directly for the first time. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hi,” I managed, wondering if I was mistaken about who was really behind the disguise.

Leo’s faded blue eyes held mine for a moment. And then he smiled.

A shock of relief ran through me.

It
was
Leo. And he knew me. He
remembered
me—the real me.

Whatever Zo had changed in my life, it seemed to have bypassed my relationship with Leo. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had someone I could talk to who would understand, who knew the truth. More important, I had someone who could help me rescue Dante.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Principal Adams said. “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions.”

More than you know,
I thought. I wanted to grab Leo’s arm and shake the answers out of him.

He caught my expression and a slight frown wrinkled his forehead.
Not now. Wait.
He sat in the chair across from me and set his briefcase on the floor by his feet.

“As I’m sure Principal Adams has told you, we at Emery are quite selective in our admissions.” He looked at me from across the desk and a small smile hovered around his mouth. “We don’t let just anyone in, you know.”

I couldn’t help it. I grinned; there was finally a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.

Leo extracted a folder from his briefcase and opened it for my parents. He spread out the pages and pictures I’d seen so many times before as I wandered through the Emery College Web site, dreaming of the day I’d be walking there in person.

Mom and Dad hummed and nodded their way through Leo’s introduction and explanation. I could feel their excitement growing as they considered the fact that their daughter could be granted such a gift.

“Well, it certainly sounds wonderful,” Mom said.

“How did you guys find Abby?” Dad asked. “I mean, you probably had millions of applications for this scholarship.”

“Well, I don’t need to tell you that Abby is one in a million.” Leo smiled again, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Seriously, though, I can tell you that I personally reviewed every application and there was indeed something special about Abby. I could tell it from the first moment.”