by Carla Thorne
The eerie blob stopped and came back.
“Good idea,” Mary said. “There are jogging trails along there. We use them in athletics. This way.”
Scout fell in behind her. “Works for me.”
And, once again, I was in the back of the line with man-eating skeeters all around my head.
Crowd noise behind us faded into the solid beat of the bass drum line as the fight song signaled another TD. A flash in the nearing fire caught my eye. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Mary asked. “I’m trying to watch the path.”
“I saw it,” Scout said.
It happened again. Flames grew and sparkled and then appeared bright green. “What are they doing?”
“They’re messing with chemicals,” Scout said.
“No, really, what do you think they’re doing?”
“I’m serious. It’s beginner campfire entertainment. A handful of sugar, some of that powdered coffee creamer, maybe a wax disc with calcium chloride in it—”
“Wait. What?” Mary came to an abrupt stop. Scout crashed into her exactly in the cartoon-like way I expected.
“Sorry.”
“It’s OK. Now what about chemicals?”
“The fire,” Scout continued. “To get those colors and sparks, you use household chemicals—usually salts of some kind. People use them to add effects to campfire stories and stuff. It’s not a big deal.”
“That’s kinda cool,” I admitted out loud.
“You can get a white flame with plain old Epsom salts. Adds to ghost stories.”
“They let you do that in Boy Scouts?”
“Nah. My parents used to do it for my brother and me when we were little. We camped a lot.”
“No camping at my house,” I said. “I think my dad wants to, but my mom says her idea of roughin’ it is slow room service. I’ll have to go with your family if I want to do the whole sleeping under the stars thing.”
Scout didn’t say a word—which was unusual. Then I remembered I’d heard something about someone’s parents and little brother dying. Something about a car and floodwaters? Could that have been Scout? Of course it was Scout. I remembered it all of a sudden. Someone had mentioned it. That’s how I knew everyone called him Scout instead of Russell.
Stupid, stupid, stupid…
“Man, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Scout’s hand barely showed up in the darkness as he raised it to stop the conversation. “Hey, look. That one was really bright.”
“Back to the chemicals,” Mary said as if trying to bail me out. “Why do you think they’d be doing that?”
“Don’t know.”
I laced my fingers and rested my hands on my head. “Let’s go back. It’s just some kids goofin’ around a fire.”
“You’re probably right, but I still want to check it out,” Mary insisted. “Let’s duck behind the trees.”
“Why in the world would we do that? We already can’t see anything.”
“It’s not that bad,” she said and stomped forward. “I know these paths and the moon is bright. Let’s see what’s what.”
“Wonder Woman,” I said as I passed Scout. “She thinks she’s a super hero. You can’t see me,” I called ahead to Mary. “But I’m rolling my eyes.”
“Don’t roll ‘em too far, Deac,” she sniped over her shoulder. “You might miss a bat flying in.”
Scout laughed. “Good one, Mary, but seriously, what’s the point?”
“I have a weird feeling about it, OK? It won’t take long to see who’s out there. And can you two pipe down? You’d think you never snuck up on anyone before.”
“We don’t usually sneak up on people.” My exaggerated whisper gagged me. I had to clear my throat. Mary paused and elbowed me in the gut for making extra noise.
Twigs crunched under our feet, which I was sure earned more threatening looks from our fearless leader, even though I couldn’t totally make out her face in the dark.
The scent of wet leaves and decaying wood upped my skittishness to a whole ‘nother level. When a skinny branch smacked me across the face, I’d had enough. “That’s it. I’m going home.”
“Shhh,” Mary said and grabbed my shirt. “Get down. This is far enough.”
“What do you mean get down? I can barely see.”
She shushed me again.
“Who is it?” Scout asked.
“I don’t know,” Mary whispered back. “Looks like girls I’ve seen around school. That’s Paige Ryan. We play soccer together.”
“What are they doing?”
“I can’t tell. What’s that thing on Paige’s head?”
Scout poked his head up, then quickly ducked when the group of girls laughed. “I don’t know.” He leaned forward and peeked through the brush. “Is that Claire Cannon?”
“Where?” My heart thumped as my knee came down hard on a bulky pine cone. Water filled my eyes as it crunched into my skin. I shifted my weight and slid across the pointy ends. I opened my mouth to yell ouch! but managed to keep it to a low, growling noise.
Flame shadows flickered across familiar and unfamiliar faces. “That’s not Claire,” I said on a sigh of relief. “But look at that.”
A purple flame grew from the center of the crackling fire. Paige waved her arms and silver flecks popped and flashed.
“Potassium chloride,” Scout said. “That’s how you get purple.”
“Crazy,” I said. “Looks like they’re having fun. I think they have food.”
“Oh no,” Mary said.
“Oh no what? Is it a ferret or a beaver or something?”
“No, Deacon, it’s not a ferret or a beaver or any other animal that might actually live around here. Take a look at who’s sitting beside Paige.”
I moved. The rough ground once again jabbed my torn skin.
The group quieted as their leader spoke.
Scout let the handful of leaves and branches slip out of his hands until the opening in the scraggly underbrush closed. He slumped deeper onto the forest floor.
“Dang,” I whispered. “I guess now we know what happened to Ivy.”
Chapter 8
Ivy
“No…” I poked at the fading icon in the middle of my screen as if pounding on it enough would bring the dying phone back to life. I slipped the useless thing into the back pocket of my jeans and glanced first at the far lights of the football field and then at the dark shadows of the lower school buildings behind me. “Now what?”
Insects swirled in front of the brightly lit wooden sign that directed visitors to parking and various buildings, but there was nothing that explained how to find and sneak under the footbridge between the two campuses.
After hours.
In the dark.
And to find people I couldn’t text with a dead phone.
“Hey. Do you need to use my phone?”
I gasped as I turned. I also stumbled and clutched my chest and then totally understood when people said they jumped out of their skin, because I was pretty sure I’d just done that.
“Sorry I scared you,” the friendly voice continued. “It’s me. Paige.”
I recovered and took in the model-tall girl in bangin’ skinny jeans and a deep purple school hoodie. “You seriously scared the crap out of me. Paige, you said?”
“Yes, Paige, and you’re Ivy, one of the heroes of the parking lot. We’ve met.”
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t remember Paige, and that cozy chat in the near-dark parking lot was weird. Where had she come from?
“It’s my hair,” Paige said. “When we met at the new student ice cream social, it was longer and an unfortunate shade of red.” She struck a magazine photo pose. “Like it? It’s closer to my natural color. It’s almost as dark as yours. I wish I could get your color out of a box. It’s gorgeous.”
If Paige only knew how little I cared about hair color… “It’s nice, Paige. I remember you now.”
I took the phone and absently studied the words written in silver marker across the back. I couldn’t come close to reading it. “Ummmm… No. I don’t have the numbers of my friends memorized.”
Paige took it back. “Maybe I can help. Give me a name. I’ll check my contacts.”
I stifled a giggle. I was pretty sure Paige didn’t text Scout on a regular basis. “No, that’s OK. I’ll find them.”
“You were meeting people here?”
“Not exactly. My ride dropped me off at the wrong entrance and I got turned around. I’m trying to get across to the game by way of the footbridge.”
Paige crossed her arms and tapped one perfect long nail against the phone in her hand. “I can’t let you do that.”
My edgy gut reaction came out of my mouth in a hurry. “What do you mean you can’t let me do that?”
Paige laughed. “Oh, Ivy, relax. You should see your face. Really. I’m not trying to keep you from going. I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“How?”
“That whole area is closed during games. Wayne’s been known to take a spin on the golf cart through there at the end of the second quarter. After he’s cleared out, I’ll show you the way and you can meet up with your friends.”
I bit at the inside of my cheek while I thought about it for a sec. The last thing I needed was to cross paths with Wayne. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my own rattier hoodie. “OK, sure.” I scanned the lot and still there was no one. “Should we wait here or…”
“We could,” Paige answered. “But I’d rather wait with my friends. I brought lattes for everyone.” Paige started walking. “C’mon. I have food too.”
Friends? What friends? There wasn’t even a parked car, and I had to listen hard to hear a cricket. And if the wide-open field and the footbridge were closed at night, wouldn’t that area be closed too?
We stepped off the end of the concrete and snaked through a row of shrubs along the boundary. Paige used her cell for a snippet of light now and then, but otherwise seemed to find her way on the trail.
I stomped over flattened grass in her wake. The eerie vibe I caught from the whole situation make me wish I’d trekked to the main school road and followed that to the game. Now, though, I had little choice but to cling to the path a few steps behind and hope that Paige knew where we were.
The distant row of trees rose to a murky black wall across the open field. Shimmers from street lamps peeked through from what looked like an apartment complex that backed up to school property. We had to be a long way from the bridge. The highway would be… Where were we, exactly? And why?
“You OK back there?”
“Sure,” I said. “But I smell smoke.” I hurried to Paige’s side. “Wait. Is that a fire?”
“Yep. That’s us.”
I gaped at the unexpected scene. As if we’d fallen down the rabbit hole or passed through the secret garden wall, the small campfire circle appeared out of nowhere and bustled with soft chatter and friendly-looking activity. Six or seven girls sipped lattes while they sat on rocks. Some poked at the fire, and others passed around a bag of cookies. Someone even had a marshmallow on a stick.
Paige picked up the pace. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”
I stopped and blinked. Maybe it was a dream or vision. I re-focused. Nope. Wide awake and probably in trouble. “I didn’t know we were allowed this far out. Won’t someone see the fire?”
Paige returned to my side and hooked arms with me. “It’s fine,” she said in a honey-sweet tone and with a warm, welcoming smile that would compel anyone to stay. “It’s a thing we do on Friday nights during football season.” She tugged me forward. “No one knows we’re here.”
Fear prickled at the back of my neck. Should I have been scared? No one else looked scared.
Paige came to a fast stop near the circle. “You can sit here between me and Trinity. I’ll be right back. Trinity? Meet Ivy. Ivy, Trinity.”
Swirling air, thick with smoke, wafted into my face and burned my eyes as I sat on my appointed rock.
Trinity waved her arm and laughed. “Talk about bad timing. The wind changed direction all of a sudden.” As the air cleared, she extended her hand like we were at a business meeting. “Nice to meet you.”
From her sleek black hair and designer earrings, to the row of bracelets on her wrist, and on down to her brown leather boots—another expensive designer—Trinity was a page of new arrivals and must-haves from the latest issue of Teen Vogue. A dusting of sparkly shadow glittered at the corners of her striking eyes. If Beyoncé had another younger sister wandering around Texas, it could have been Trinity.
And I would have been in the custody of the make-up police after my epically disastrous attempt at a smoky eye.
Paige sailed past and put a warm cup of Starbucks in my hand. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” I said after her.
Trinity leaned forward and turned her cup in her hands. “I recognize you from the parking lot today. Everyone’s talking about how Mr. Berry was hit by a car. You were close, weren’t you?”
“Yes. Right place at the right time, I guess. I’m glad we were able to help.”
Trinity smiled and took a sip from her cup. “How do you know Paige?”
“We met at a new student social. I think.”
“You think?”
“She was a redhead at the time, and I didn’t remember her when I saw her tonight.”
“Ahhh… That explains it.”
“What about you? You’re not new here, are you?”
“Not even close.” Trinity draped her arm across her lap. Bracelets slid toward her hand, one at a time, and made tinkling sounds each time they met. “We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Our dads work in the same law firm in Houston.”
I glanced around the strange circle. “What is this group, anyway?”
Trinity shrugged and tapped the sides of her cup. “It’s something Paige started. We get together a couple of times a week and talk. Girl stuff, you know.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Paige calls us the Arrows for short. There’s another word in there. Paige will explain it.”
“So… Is it a school-sponsored group? I don’t remember seeing it on the list.”
Trinity smiled and tugged at her dangling earring. “You’ll have to talk to Paige.”
I scooted back on my rock. A few girls acknowledged me with a nod and a smile. Others literally looked down their noses at me as they walked past to talk to someone else. One girl’s hand shook as she stopped in front of me and presented a napkin with an oversized oatmeal cookie on it. No one but Trinity said a word to her.
As I searched for clues and answers about the disturbing meet-and-greet, I tried to keep the conversation going. “I like your name. It reminds me of a round piece of stained glass I saw in an art book at the doctor’s office. The Holy Trinity or something.”
“I’d like to say I’m named after something holy, but really I’m named after a river. My mother said it’s because she has good memories of fishing with her grandfather along the Trinity River. If that’s true, why didn’t she name me River?”
“River’s cool.”
“Ivy’s cool too. It’s vintage cool, kind of retro. Are you named after a favorite relative or something?”
“Hardly. I don’t know what my mother had in mind.”
Trinity laughed and raised her cup. “Well, here’s to moms who think they’re thinking outside the box. May they remain eternally clueless.”
Warmth from the growing fire blew like a wave into my face. I leaned to avoid the sudden heat. “Uh, Trinity? Is it me or is that fire changing colors?”
“That’s something Paige does for fun.”
Paige was nowhere near the fire, yet the flames grew and faded and occasionally popped and sp
arked in bright colors. “How does she do it?”
Trinity got all mysterious and leaned toward me. “Maybe it’s magic,” she said and wiggled a brow.
Was she being funny? More like Paige pulled some grade school chemistry project off YouTube. Either way, it was creepy. They weren’t twelve-year-olds at a slumber party. It wasn’t a séance—I hoped. I wanted to leave. Wayne had to be gone by then and I was sure I could find my way back. If not, I’d run toward the apartments.
While Trinity turned away to dig in her giant designer purse, I moved to leave—at the exact moment Paige came toward me.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
Paige, who had the only real chair to sit on, dropped into her seat. She pulled a metal crown-looking thing that resembled a twisted arrow from a bag at her side. She set it on her head.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Think of yourself much, Your Highness, Queen Paige?
She reached out to squeeze my arm. “Glad you’re here, Ivy. You can observe this time. If you’re invited into membership, we’ll have more to talk about.”
Invited? Membership? I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten there, and I totally didn’t belong. It was obvious I had nothing in common with girls who clearly paid for weekly manicures and hours in the tanning salon. My whole wardrobe would have fit in Trinity’s purse, and that other girl’s real diamond fleur-de-lis necklace would have paid my tuition for a year.
No, I did not need to be invited to join that group.
Paige spoke. As she thanked everyone for coming to their gathering, I planned my escape. I stashed my untouched cookie and latte alongside my rock. I was gonna ditch that circle in a hurry. I paused with my hands clutched on the rough, bumpy sides of my own seat. What if they tried to stop me? Would they do that?
Heavy footsteps and the noise of wrinkling paper interrupted Paige. A blurry image came into view through the heat ripples of the fire as one more girl arrived from the opposite direction.
“Sorry,” the newcomer said. “Sorry I’m late.”
Paige stood as the girl made her way around the circle and stopped near me. She made an awkward attempt to slide her bag next to Paige’s chair. Her hand trembled as she pushed long strands of hair behind her ear and made obvious attempts to avoid their leader’s direct and frosty glare.