by Jana Oliver
As the sound of moving water grew louder, it was nearly impossible not to remember that summer day ten years before. She and Saralyn, who had been five at the time, had wandered away from a family picnic and found themselves by the mill. It was something they were never supposed to do as alligators sometimes sunned themselves on the banks.
Oblivious to the danger, they’d clambered up and down the stairs, proclaiming the mill was their castle. Joshua had joined them and it’d been great fun until Saralyn had lost her footing. Briar had grabbed for her, but in the process had hit the railing that overlooked the river. It had broken in two, pitching her into the churning water below, leaving Saralyn safe far above.
Over the years Briar had heard different versions of the tale, often by people who hadn’t been there that day. How Joshua had pushed her into the water, how both of them had died. How it was all her fault that they were at the mill in the first place, which was another lie.
While her cousin ran for help, Joshua had gone into the water after her. It had been him who had drowned, not her. She still remembered that part as clearly today as when it had happened, Joshua’s hand clutching on to hers, his brown hair floating around him in the churning water as they were pushed along by the current. That strange jolt of sensation that had passed between them right after he’d stopped fighting and given in.
Briar was still breathing when she was pulled from the river, crying, begging them to help her friend. It’d been her uncle who had done CPR and brought Joshua to life. Finally he’d coughed and sputtered and choked out a bellyful of water. Then Joshua had begun to cry.
No matter the tale or who told it, from that day on, the river had been Briar’s mortal enemy. From that point forward Mrs Quinn had begun a personal vendetta against the Rose family, blaming her for what could have been a personal tragedy.
With the memories dragging her down, Briar halted abruptly. ‘Ah, I don’t like being near the water.’
Pat turned and studied her. ‘You can’t swim?’
‘No.’ He didn’t need to know her past. She didn’t want him to pity her.
‘Then relax, will you?’ he said. ‘I was thinking of us doing something else.’
The boy of her dreams stepped closer, cupping her face with his strong hands and then kissed the end of her nose. Briar smiled up at him, caught up in his spell. This really was like a fairy tale. The moon, the prince, the princess. All they needed was a white horse and a castle.
The next kiss was full on her lips. It was genuine, not the half-hearted kind Mike had always given her.
Briar found her heart pounding when it ended. ‘Wow,’ she said, her eyes widening.
‘Yeah,’ Pat replied, smiling. The next kiss lasted a lot longer, his hands sliding round her waist and pulling her tightly against him. His body reacted to their closeness and Briar found herself blushing. This was so perfect.
When it ended, Pat kept his arms around her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. He angled his head towards the mill. ‘We could go in there,’ he suggested. ‘No one would know where we were. We could be all alone.’
The mill part didn’t sound that good, but the all alone part did. Unless . . .
‘Umm . . .’
He gently touched her cheek. ‘I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not like Mike.’
Her ex’s name broke Pat’s intoxicating spell. ‘What’s Mike got to do with this?’
‘Nothing. Come on,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘We have some time before anyone misses us.’
When he tugged her forward towards the mill, he didn’t realize he’d triggered more of her memories. Saralyn had pulled her along in much the same way only a short time before Briar had fallen into the river.
‘No,’ she said, sliding her hand out of his. ‘Let’s go back to the party, OK?’
‘Why?’ he said, stepping close to her again. His hand caressed her cheek. ‘It’ll be fun.’
Briar stepped backwards, suddenly aware that there was no one else around. Still, her reaction made no sense. Pat wasn’t a threat. He was too cool.
‘No, I gotta go,’ she said, turning away. Pat quickly caught up with her.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, catching her by the wrist. Then he suddenly broke his grip and stared at his hand. His finger was bleeding. ‘That damned bracelet of yours bit me.’
‘Sorry. The axe is kinda sharp, I guess.’
He sucked on the wound, and then wiped his finger on his jeans. ‘Look, I thought we were good together. Why can’t we just hook up tonight?’
Briar blinked. ‘Hook up?’ He nodded. ‘You mean like . . .’ Pat gave another nod, a slightly irritated expression on his face.
This wasn’t just a kissing expedition – he was talking about going all the way.
‘It’d be good. I promise,’ he said, deploying that devastating smile of his. As if that would be reason enough to take that final step.
For a few precious seconds Briar actually considered it. This was Pat, and she liked him a lot. If the curse was for real, what would it matter? She deserved some happiness.
No. Not this way. It felt too needy. Desperate even.
‘I can’t. I’m not like that, Pat. I don’t know why you thought I was.’
He frowned now. ‘You’ve already done it with Mike, so it wouldn’t be like it was a big deal.’
There were so many things wrong with that statement she didn’t know where to start. ‘Who told you Mike and I hooked up?’
‘It’s all over his Facebook page. He didn’t use your name, but everyone knows it’s you.’
It can’t be. She’d unfriended Mike when they’d broke up, but he wouldn’t say things like that about her.
‘You’re lying!’ she said, growing angry.
Grumbling under his breath, Pat dug out his smart phone, hunted around for something, then handed it over.
‘Look!’ he said. ‘He put it up yesterday.’
There it was right on his page: Mike’s post, a response to the question ‘Have you ever done it in a car?’ was about the night he’d spent with a girl whose initials were BR. He went into graphic detail of their time in the back seat of his car, none of which was true because she’d called a halt long before they got that far.
Briar’s cheeks burned as if someone had doused them with gasoline and set them on fire. Ohmigod. Her ex had told the world they’d slept together. That’s why the others were laughing. They thought she and Pat were out here getting naked.
How many people had read this and believed it was the truth? Mrs Parker had said she didn’t believe the rumours. Is that what she meant? Did the whole town know?
Of course they do. That lying piece of . . .
Briar threw the phone back at Pat and took off at a run, her stomach close to heaving, frantic to find Reena and get out of here.
If this really was her last night on earth, it had just become a total disaster.
By the time Briar made the journey from the mill to the lake, she was crying and furious at the same time. She heard Pat behind her, calling her name, but she kept moving, desperate to find her friend.
Faces turned towards her as she ran up the path. Some showed concern, others were sneering.
‘Couldn’t handle him, huh?’ one of the girls said.
‘Briar?’ her friend called out, and hurried over. When Reena saw her tears, her eyes narrowed. ‘What happened? What did he do to you?’
‘He thinks . . . Did you know what Mike is saying about me? That he and I – went all the way?’
‘What? her friend blurted.
‘Yeah, on Facebook. Now everyone thinks I’m a slut who’ll put out for any guy who asks,’ Briar retorted, fury warring with mortal embarrassment. ‘That’s all Pat wanted. You were right about him.’
Sniggers came from some of the other kids, who’d gathered around to witness her mortification.
‘Hey, if the shoe fits,’ one of the guys called out, then laughed.
Briar glared the o
ffender, a classmate who should have known better. ‘It doesn’t fit. It never will.’
‘Briar, look I’m—’ Pat began as he caught up with her.
She whirled round, waving a finger at him like a weapon, bringing him to a halt. ‘You stay away from me, you jerk!’
‘Hey, I’m sorry. No harm, no foul,’ he said, raising his hands in surrender, but he didn’t appear that upset. More disappointed than anything.
‘Just so we’re clear – Mike lied. We never went that far.’
‘All you girls say that,’ one of the guys called out, then yelped when his girlfriend smacked him on the arm.
Briar zeroed in on Mike’s braying laughter as it was the loudest. For once she wished she was a guy – she’d flatten him in front of all the others and kick him when he was down.
‘I want to hurt him so bad,’ Briar said, her hands clenching into tight fists.
‘Makes two of us, but now’s not the time,’ Reena said, taking her arm. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Jeers accompanied them across the parking lot. Just as they just reached Reena’s car, Joshua caught up with them.
‘What happened with Pat?’ he insisted. ‘What’d he do to make you cry?’
‘Why do you care?’ Briar snapped.
‘Come on, tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?’
Why would a Quinn give a damn?
‘He needs to know,’ Reena said, unusually solemn. ‘I’ll be in the car. Don’t take too long.’
Briar leaned against the vehicle, not caring if her jeans got dirty now that her whole evening, her life, was ruined. She folded her arms over her chest, heart thudding and felt another tear roll down her cheek.
‘What did Daniels do to you? Just tell me,’ Joshua asked, closer now, but not so close that it made her uncomfortable.
‘He didn’t do anything bad. We just . . . kissed.’ Which had been great until he’d ruined it.
‘Then why are you crying?’
‘It was Mike,’ she said, and then spilt the details of her ex’s sick joke.
Joshua’s mouth dropped open as unexpected fire ignited in his eyes.
‘That bastard,’ he said. ‘And Daniels is just as bad. He shouldn’t believe rumours.’
There was irony for you – her family’s enemy sticking up for her.
With deep-seated regret Briar realized that Joshua had been really cool all along and she had never been allowed to see it.
She wiped away the tears. ‘You’ve been really sweet, even if you are a . . . well, you know. Thanks for the present. I love it.’
Right on cue, Joshua looked embarrassed. Thankfully, Kerry provided the perfect distraction, proudly bringing a stick, which she dropped at Briar’s feet.
‘It’s never been fair what our parents did. I don’t . . . hate you. Never did.’
He smiled. ‘I never hated you, either.’
The passenger-side window rolled down. ‘We need to get you home. It’s eleven fifteen.’
‘You better go,’ Joshua said. ‘Don’t want you to get into trouble.’
Like it would matter. What would my parents do? Ground me? Can’t do that if the curse is real.
As she saw it, not being around tomorrow might actually be a good thing.
Briar dejectedly climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt. As they backed up, she found herself watching Joshua. He was kneeling now, his arms round his dog. On impulse, she gave a wave and he returned it. He seemed so sad, lost even.
‘You never knew Josh really liked you?’ Reena asked softly as she pulled out of the parking lot.
‘No. Not much we could have done about it anyway.’ Briar took a deep breath. ‘You know what my mom’s like and his mother’s even worse.’
‘Yeah. He got grounded last spring because of you.’
‘Me?’ she asked, shocked. ‘Why?’
‘You were standing near him at a basketball game. You didn’t know he was there, too caught up in the game I guess, but his mom heard about it. She went ballistic. Josh said his dad stood up for him, but it was still really ugly.’
‘Wow, I didn’t know that. What is it with adults? Why are they so mean?’
‘Sometimes they’re that way because they’re scared,’ Reena replied.
Before Briar could ask what Mrs Quinn feared, her cellphone pinged. It was her dad asking if she was headed home. She texted back that they were on the way.
A fat tear rolled down Reena’s face, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her nails blanched.
Oh, man. ‘Hey, it’s OK,’ Briar lied. ‘This curse thing . . . it’s not going to happen.’
Reena didn’t reply as another tear coursed down her cheek, following the one before it.
Trembling, Briar laid her head against the side window and watched as the car’s headlights spotlighted the trees along the road, like candid snapshots of her life. If this really was the end, had she made a mistake turning Pat down? What would it have been like? Would it have been good or . . . What else would she regret not doing?
As they passed the roadside memorial, Briar wondered if her family would build her one, leave a cupcake in remembrance on the anniversary of her death. Remember her for what she was, not the lies others had told.
It’s not real. It can’t be.
But Reena’s silent tears told a different story.
CHAPTER SIX
As Reena pulled into the driveway, Briar’s parents were waiting for her. They sat on the front steps as ambitious bugs flitted around the porch lights. Though her mom’s eyes were dry now, her father’s were red and puffy. Both of them seemed to have aged in the last couple of hours.
What really ended Briar’s doubts was her friend’s great-grandmother, parked on the porch swing, her feet dangling in the air as she rocked back and forth. Tiny and birdlike, with silver hair and mahogany skin, Lily Foster held a Bible in her hands.
If she was here, then the curse was for real.
It can’t be . . .
Briar fumbled with the door latch and then was outside the car. Lily looked up at her and she swore the woman could see right into her heart.
Is it true?
The old woman nodded in return.
‘Oh my God,’ Briar said, her knees hitting the lawn as her will to stand vanished. ‘It’s real. It’s really . . . true.’
Her parents were at her side now.
‘Mom? Dad?’
They all collided in a big hug.
‘I’m so sorry, Briar,’ her father said, touching her hair. ‘I never believed . . .’ He raised his head to look over his shoulder at the woman on the porch. ‘Not until tonight.’
Hearing her dad so emotional shredded Briar’s heart. As she tried not to cry, the screech of grinding metal catapulted through her mind, followed by piercing screams. The nightmare again. She began to shake, her stomach nauseous, her head pounding.
‘Get me inside,’ Briar whispered, clutching her stomach. She refused to die on her family’s front lawn and give the neighbours something to talk about. She could hear it now: Did you see that Rose girl? Just belly flopped on to the grass like a dead carp. Got cursed, I heard. Can you believe it?
Her mom helped her into the house, through the front room and past the kitchen where a mound of tissues sat on the table next to three empty cups. As they made their way up the stairs, there was muted conversation behind her, Reena and Lily talking about something. Her friend’s voice was trembling, bordering on panic.
Once Briar reached her room the nausea had passed and with her mom’s help she stripped off her make-up.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, staring at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Why me? What have I done to anyone?’
‘It isn’t your fault. It never was.’
Briar’s anger burned brighter. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why wait until today? I could have done . . . . things.’
‘I just couldn’t tell you,’ was the soft reply.
Oh, God.
She could rage at her mother until midnight, shout and curse about the unfairness of it all. Then what? She’d just be leaving all the pain on her mom’s shoulders. Mom has enough.
Briar sighed and donned her favourite I’m a Princess nightshirt. It seemed the right choice.
What will they bury me in? Probably that sunny yellow dress she’d worn to church last Easter. She could still remember that day because she’d seen Joshua there, minus his parents. He’d made sure to sit a number of pews away, maintaining that required distance. What would he think when he found out she was dead?
Her mother was strangely calm now, loaning strength to her daughter. In her own way she was helping Briar get through this final night with dignity.
‘I love you, Mom,’ she said.
‘I love you, too. I am so sorry this has happened.’
Standing behind her, her mother combed Briar’s hair and braided it just like she had ever since Briar was little, making soothing noises as she did so. When their eyes met in the mirror, her mother’s were brimming with tears.
‘Who did this to me?’ Briar asked.
‘Someone who was very angry. Someone who couldn’t forgive,’ her mom replied. ‘It is not important who it was, Briar. She will be punished for the rest of her life.’
She?
Her mother finished the French braid. Out of habit, Briar smoothed it with her hands, admiring the intricate weave.
‘What’s this?’ her mom asked, pointing at the charm bracelet.
‘Ah, a birthday present.’ Please don’t ask who gave it to me.
‘It’s very nice. Did you have a good time . . . at the party?’
Just tell her. ‘I found out that . . . Mike’s been spreading lies about me. He’s telling people we went . . . all the way.’ Briar held her breath, waiting for the reaction.
Her mom touched her cheek. ‘I know, honey. I heard about it.’
‘What?’ Oh, crap. ‘Does Dad know?’
Her mom shook her head. At least that was some good news.
‘I didn’t believe it. You’re smarter than that. You always have been. I haven’t given you credit enough for that.’
They hugged and for once Briar wished she was still a little kid. They had had an evening ritual: her mom would braid her hair, her dad would read her a story, then she’d fall asleep knowing everything would be all right. Those days were gone.