Alfie rocks back on his heels and smirks. “If it is, then it's perfect. Just perfect.” Now Alfie is grinning. “That's where we're having the senior Halloween Dance. There was a last-minute cancellation so they're letting us have it there.”
Suddenly, it's like something is crawling up my spine. I stare at the mansion, swallowing, which is difficult because my mouth has gone completely dry. It's the last place I want to be on October 31st.
Chapter 26
Gabe texts me back as I'm getting to the skating rink for the seniors-only disco party.
My heart skips even though I'm a little disappointed he didn't text me first. He's happy to hear from me and sure, he'll ask his mom if Nicole had been hearing voices and whether anyone spotted a strange woman wandering around the house. Explain in person? he asks.
I agree to meet him the next morning at a cafe. He suggests picking me up, but I don't want to explain Gabe to my mother, who will have a hundred questions I can't answer.
The four of us girlfriends pile out of the car and wave at Madison's sister Mackenzie. On the drive over she makes it clear she thinks it’s awful that we’re going to a party so soon after the death of Monica Goodman. Mackenzie disapproves of our outfits, too. “You look like walking, talking female tropes,” she says.
“Can you not be a bitch for once?” Madison mutters, slamming the car door.
We got dressed at my house, with my mother watching and taking pictures. For once, she didn't make a big deal about me going to a party. And why should she? It involves dressing up and the whole thing is over by eleven. I'm wearing the rust colored slip dress she found online and even I have to admit it's perfect.
Chloe shocked us all when she walked out of the bathroom, her long black hair straightened and parted in the middle, wearing a silver pantsuit.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Madison asked.
“Cher!” Chloe said, rolling her eyes and flashing long, fake nails.
Destiny is dressed, of all things, like a disco witch and refuses to explain when we ask her about it. She's been acting a little funny all evening, quiet and moody. Not that anyone blames her. She's terrified she's going to spark again and almost didn't come.
Madison strides toward the skating rink door as heads turn to stare at her. She's wearing a gold halter dress, revealing way more of her six-one body than she normally does. Her hair is a mass of disco curls that my mother made happen with a curling iron.
When we walk in, the music is already blasting. Everyone has got into the 1970s spirit. There's shiny, stretchy fabric everywhere, with makeup that sparkles under the lights of the disco ball. Even the guys seem to be having a good time in their tight pants and unbuttoned shirts.
When we've finished pulling on our skates, Alfie spots us and glides over. He's dressed like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Somehow, he manages to look natural in a white suit and black shirt, as if it's something he wears every day. For a joke, he's also painted some hair on his chest which is hilarious because Alfie waxes.
He slips his arm around Chloe's waist. We're all watching to see how she reacts. She smiles and leans into him. Madison frowns. Destiny sighs and looks away. I ignore it, like it's not happening. We've been through this before, but this time, we're not going to take sides.
Alfie and Chloe head toward the snack bar, holding hands, and return with two cardboard holders of what looks like purple slushies. From a pocket, Alfie whips out a flask and pours something into each of the red cups. “Drink up ladies. Here's to escaping harsh reality. Let the party begin.”
Destiny stares into her cup suspiciously. “What is this?”
“Purple Rain cocktail. Sort of,” Alfie says, smiling over the top of his cup. His teeth are so white they are practically glowing.
When we've finished our drinks, Alfie leads Chloe out to the floor. All of us are decent skaters, so that's one less thing to worry about.
A basketball player Madison thinks is cute one day and not cute the next comes by and soon they're skating away. Destiny's becoming even more moody. She sits in a corner, arms folded across her chest, staring off into the distance. When I sit next to her, she shakes her head. “I'm fine. I just need some space, that's all.”
I leave her, reluctantly, and as I'm walking away, I run into Raj hanging out with some guys. When I ask him about Mary—they're an official couple now—he gives a little shrug. “She's been feeling a little out of it lately,” he says. “Probably coming down with something.”
I make it through about six songs, silently congratulating myself for not falling on my ass. Then the lights go on and off, signaling something special is about to happen. And it does. It's Alfie’s favorite song: September by Earth, Wind and Fire. Which means it is time to make my escape. I'm almost to the bathroom, where I plan to hide for the next three-and-a-half minutes, when Alfie catches me and pulls me to the middle of the dance floor.
Everyone is making a circle around us and clapping their hands. This is not what was supposed to happen. Alfie promised, swore, he would not make me do the California Swing. Our mothers taught it to us when we were little, and we've been dancing it ever since. But only when our families get together, not in front of people. And we've never tried it with skates strapped onto our feet.
Unlike Alfie, I do not enjoy being the center of attention. The idea of dancing in front of so many people makes me feel lightheaded. But there is no getting out of it, so I paste a smile on my face.
By now, I've had a couple of Purple Rains and luckily that's helping more than hurting. Pretty soon we're swinging out, skipping up, under arm passing and tuck turning — as best we can on wheels. Then I'm laughing because I'm actually having fun. Toward the end of the song, others join us, trying to swing dance but half the time a partner goes flying across the floor, only to slam against the boards.
Not that anyone cares, but we all seem to be feeling the same thing: relief that we're alive, relief that we can feel something other than worry and dread.
And then the song is over. I throw my arms around Alfie's neck and peck him on the cheek. He kisses me back, but he wobbles on his skates and ends up kissing me on the mouth instead. This makes us laugh even harder, even though Chloe isn't looking happy about it.
My heart sinks when I notice Destiny still sitting by herself, looking miserable.
A hand is tapping my shoulder and when I turn around, there’s my new neighbor Daniel Moore in a shiny bronze shirt. While he's dressed for the party, he's his usual serious self.
“Hi,” I say, pushing hair out of my face.
“Hi,” he says. “Had no idea you could dance like that.”
“I guess I forgot to tell you I'm such an amazing dancer.”
At this, he smiles. Then he looks around and says, “I thought you weren't allowed to go to parties.”
Get Down Tonight starts playing. “Your mom needs to stop talking to my mom,” I reply.
Daniel nods at someone standing behind me. When I turn around, it's Alfie. He's staring at us. “I think your boyfriend is wondering what's up,” he says quietly, leaning toward me. He smells nice, like expensive aftershave.
“He's not my boyfriend,” I stammer. Even saying it sounds weird.
“Oh yeah?” Daniel says, wiggling his eyebrows. And then he walks away.
This strange encounter leaves me feeling unsettled in a way I don't even understand myself. I join Destiny and together we watch people dancing, making the occasional snarky comment, but mostly we sit there not talking. When the party is nearly over, I see Daniel's attention is fixed on someone on the other side of the rink. He looks a bit stunned. When I follow his gaze, I see its Madison.
***
My dad picks us up after the party. It's nearly midnight when I get home. Destiny and Madison are sleeping over at Chloe's, but I make an excuse and say I have a headache because all I want is to be by myself, in my own room. Chloe's acting a little weird because of the accidental kiss with Alfie and I need a bre
ak from Destiny.
At home, I immediately sense something is wrong. My mother is sitting on the couch in the family room. She doesn't say hello, doesn't ask how the party went. Instead, she waves a piece of yellow paper in the air.
I recognize it immediately. It's my list of top college choices. A list that was hidden in a book in a drawer in my desk. Not one of the colleges is close to home. My mother has never seen the list because I’d kept it a secret. Going away to college isn't something we talk about, because she says it's not going to happen.
A vein in my temple begins to throb. My heartbeat sounds like someone is doing a load of wash in my ears. “Mom. What the hell? You went through my stuff?”
My father is standing in the doorway, looking like he's not sure he wants to enter the room.
“Do not, and I repeat, do not, curse at me, Samantha,” my mother begins. She waves the paper in the air, rising to her feet. For once, she's not wearing heels. We are the same height. “If you think you're going to some fancy college, to spend years on something that won't make you a living, and that we're going to pay? No way. Absolutely no way. You've got another think coming. Tell her, Marty. Tell her right now.”
I turn and look at my father, who's standing there, frozen. “Dad?”
“Well, mija,” he begins. His voice trails off and he looks away.
“My counselor says my grades are good enough that I can get into some good schools,” I say desperately.
“Your counselor isn't going to pay the bills, is she?” my mother snaps, her voice rising.
“But Mom, going away to school is part of the experience,” I say. Now a lump is forming in my throat. A big one.
“You can have all the experience you want in San Francisco. Or San Jose. Take your pick!” my mother says coldly. “Because that's where you're going if you want any help from us. We are not, not paying all that money for you to live in a dorm when you can live at home. Do you hear me, Samantha?” Then she sinks to the couch, puts her head in her hands and begins to cry. The yellow paper flutters to the floor.
Without saying another word, I walk out of the room. My legs feel like they're made of lead.
Chapter 27
The morning after our big argument, I bang out of the house without saying goodbye to my mother or explaining where I'm going.
She's not talking to me and I'm not talking to her. My father has tried talking to both of us, but my mother accused him of not backing her up and I called him a traitor for not backing me up on my college plans.
My eyes are puffy from crying as I walk into The Coffee Roastery in downtown Hillside, where Gabe is already waiting. He takes one look at me and says, “Hey. What's going on? You okay?”
That's it. That's all it takes. I hadn't planned on sharing any personal drama, but suddenly I'm telling him everything: how being an only child sucks, how my mother didn't go to college and doesn't get what a big deal it is to me, how she has no respect for my privacy, how she's always criticizing what I'm wearing, how she chopped off my hair.
The words just keep tumbling out. And all the while, Gabe is nodding.
When I pause to catch my breath, he reaches over and touches the ends of my hair. “I like your long hair better. But this looks good, too,” he says quietly. “It sounds like we both have issues with our mothers. Yours is controlling. Mine is needy, but at least my mom has an excuse. I think you need to focus on getting out of there, after you graduate.”
I stare at him. “But how am I supposed to do that? She says they won't pay for college if I don't live at home.”
Gabe gives my hair a little pull, smiles. “Talk to your counselor, explain what's going on. Maybe they'll have some advice. Your grades are good, right? Maybe there are some scholarships you can apply for.”
My heart begins to feel a little lighter. “That's a good idea.”
Gabe releases my hair and stands up. “Hey, we better order some coffee before they kick us out.”
When I get up, Gabe says, “I've got this.”
When he returns, he's carrying two frothy coffees in small cups. His foam is swirled like a leaf, mine like a heart.
When I look at the barista, a woman with a flower tattoo on her shoulder, she winks at me. Gabe is too busy stirring sugar into his coffee to notice. Now that I'm feeling a bit calmer, I notice he's wearing a black sweater. Almost as sexy as his poolside look.
“I know what will cheer you up,” he says, setting down his cup.
“And what's that?” His eyelashes, I notice, are ridiculously long.
“A swim. I've been heating up the pool. I even found the unicorn floatie when I was cleaning out the storage shed so you can't say no.” Then he looks at me, hopefully, with his large, dark eyes.
I say yes. There is no resisting Gabe and, amazingly, he remembers how much I loved the float with the unicorn head. I can’t believe it’s still around after all these years.
At the DeSilva house, there are packing boxes everywhere. It looks like Gabe has been busy since my last visit. I duck into a bathroom and put on the ass-baring bikini, but this time, I'm ready for it. Ever since the last time with the hairy thighs, I've been a slave to shaving. I walk out to the pool with confidence, even if I'm not exactly strutting.
And there's Gabe—in his swim trunks—waiting on the top step, holding the unicorn floatie.
“Your chariot awaits,” he says with a flourish.
“Why thank you sir,” I say. Since there is no graceful way to hop on, I take it and push it out and wait for Gabe to get in before clambering aboard. Gabe walks around to the deep end and dives in. He cuts through the water and disappears. Then he does some underwater laps before popping up next to me.
Water droplets glisten on his face. “Thanks for coming. Sometimes I forget Nicole died here, mostly because I never go into that part of the house. But since I'm stuck here, packing up, I might as well make the most of it.”
“What about your dad? Can't he help?”
Gabe shakes his head. “I wish, but he's in Singapore. On business. And my aunt won't step foot in the house.”
“What about at night? Aren't you afraid to be here?”
“You caught me,” Gabe says with a sheepish grin. “I tried. Couldn't do it. I'm sleeping at a friend’s place. He's got a guest room.”
The morning chill is gone, chased away by a fast warming autumn sun. It's my favorite time of year, but usually, I don't get to hang out in a pool the temperature of a bathtub.
“My mom got back to me this morning,” he says. “About your questions.”
My heart thuds in my chest. “What'd she say?”
Gabe paddles over and rests his arms on my float. “I'm not sure how you guessed it, but Nicole was hearing voices. That's one of the reasons why she thought Nicole was possessed. Or whatever. But she doesn't remember Nicole ever saying anything about a woman hanging around. What's all this about?”
I tell him. I tell him all about what we've learned so far. The outbreak of appliance fires, how Emily and Monica had been hearing voices before they died, how Emily went running out of the house, terrified the house was haunted, how Monica and Destiny sparked. When I finish, Gabe's eyes are wide.
“That's insane,” he finally says. “But maybe it explains why Nicole was drinking so much. To stop the voices.”
I wait for him to continue, but Gabe is distracted now. He is deep inside his head, thinking whatever dark thoughts are swirling there.
When it's time for me to go, Gabe walks me to my car and then leans through the open window, our faces inches apart.
“I've always liked you, Sammie,” he says.
My heart swells. Swells at the news that he's always liked me. And then it shrivels until it's the size of a sad little walnut without its shell. Because he likes me, and I was hoping for more.
Chapter 28
Since Not-The-Clarion isn’t an official school publication anymore, we can't use the media center for our editorial meetings. Principal Busk
in delivers the news to me and Alfie in-person, in his office. He looks so smug I feel like punching him.
“No problem, Mr. Buskin,” Alfie says breezily. “We'll figure something out.”
We decide to take turns holding the meetings. Destiny offers up her place first, so we gather there after school. She lives at the top of one of the highest hills around, with sweeping views of our little downtown and the bay beyond. Except no one can see it because the blinds are down on the floor-to-ceiling windows.
While Destiny and Chloe are getting snacks from the kitchen, I pull up the blinds. They don’t stay open for long. When Destiny sees what I’ve done, she lowers them again.
“Hey, Dest!” Alfie complains. “You just killed our light.”
Destiny responds by flicking on a switch. “There. Happy now?”
Chloe watches as Destiny walks across the room. “Is she still on that diet?” she whispers.
I shrug. “She's always on a diet.” But this time, whatever crazy food deprivation plan Destiny is on, she's losing weight fast. Madison is threatening to force feed her pizza if she keeps it up.
“I think she lost her appetite after the whole sparking thing,” Chloe adds.
The sparking thing, as it's come to be known. It hasn't happened since that one time at school, but it's yet another worry lurking around the corners of our minds. I've told Alfie, Chloe and Madison that Monica had sparked, too. And Gabe. But since we don't know what it means, we've decided not to tell Destiny. She's nervous enough already.
Raj is late, with Mary trailing behind him. She looks terrible. Her blonde hair is dirty, there are dark circles under her eyes and her clothes don't come close to matching. Most disturbing is her blank expression. She lets Raj lead her to a chair and she sinks into it, and gives us a vague, weak wave.
When I shoot Raj a questioning look, he comes over and quietly says, “She's feeling better today. She wanted to come.” Except Mary doesn’t look better. She looks like crap.
The Box in The Cuts: A Supernatural Mystery Page 10