by Megan Crewe
“Ah,” Dad said, shifting his Sudoku book and raising his pencil, “the seven goes here.”
The show’s opening came on, and Drew flopped onto the couch. “Amazing how they managed to fit so many hot guys into one show,” he said, turning up the volume.
Dad broke sooner than he usually does. He got up and stalked out of the room. Drew rolled his eyes.
You’d think, given how smart Dad is about science and medicine, he wouldn’t be quite so stupid about Drew being gay. But he acts like the idea of having a son who’s attracted to guys is so inconceivable he can’t even acknowledge it. I doubt he’d have agreed to look for a job on the island so quickly when Mom suggested moving back if he hadn’t walked in on Drew making out with his best guy “friend” a few months before. And Drew, of course, is determined to shove it in his face until…until he forces Dad into a total meltdown? I don’t know what he expects to happen.
I realize Drew’s completely in the right, but sometimes I want to scream at both of them.
Even if Dad had gotten over his bad mood from yesterday, I had a feeling his “conversation” with Drew made it come back. It didn’t seem like a good time to bug him with a bunch of questions. At least Rachel’s dad is being looked after now. I’ll probably hear all about his recovery in school tomorrow.
Sept 10
Rachel wasn’t in school again. No word about her dad.
Mackenzie didn’t seem to think her being absent was a big deal, but I couldn’t imagine Rachel skipping school two days in a row unless her dad was pretty much dying—and someone would have been talking about it if his condition was that bad. This is the same girl who argued that she didn’t need to go home after puking her guts out during last year’s English exam, after all.
Rachel’s never said anything, but I suspect there isn’t enough money for her to go to college unless she gets a good scholarship. Her dad just has the fishing, which isn’t going well for anyone these days, and her mom doesn’t work at all. It’s got to be tough.
So after school I called her to see how she was doing.
“Kaelyn!” she said when she picked up. “I’m so happy you called. I missed you!”
I hadn’t been expecting such an enthusiastic response. “How’s it going?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ve got this stupid cold and Mom said I have to stay home and rest,” she said, and sneezed. “God, it’s so boring. You want to come over? She probably wouldn’t like that, but she’s out grocery shopping, and what she doesn’t know can’t hurt, right?”
“Sure,” I said. Maybe she was acting weird, but I’d wanted to be better friends with her. Seemed like a good time to try.
When I rang the doorbell, Rachel opened the door and flung her arms around me. She only let go to cough into her elbow and then scratch her collarbone. Her nose was red. Just like her dad when I’d been over before—sneezing and coughing and scratching.
I started feeling nervous then. But Rachel seemed so excited to see me, and a real friend wouldn’t just take off. All she had was a cold. Her dad had gotten it really badly, but it wasn’t like they’d put her in the hospital too.
So when she tugged my wrist, I followed her into the family room.
On the TV, a VJ was interviewing some hip-hop singer. Rachel pulled me onto the couch and slung her arm over my shoulder.
“Talk,” she said. “I want to know everything I’ve missed. I’ve been stuck in this boring house too long.”
There wasn’t much to talk about. I didn’t think she’d want to hear that everyone at school was gossiping about her dad. I told her they’d announced swim team would be starting soon, since I’ve decided I’ll try out and maybe she’d want to come too, and then I remembered the story Mackenzie told at lunch—one of her usual “this famous person my parents know” deals, but really funny this time. As I started getting into it, Rachel grimaced.
“She’s such a snot, isn’t she?” she said.
I stopped and stared at her.
“I mean Mackenzie,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “As if she’s so special because she was born in L.A. She’s always got her nose up in the air. God, I want to rip it off her face sometimes, don’t you?”
Sometimes I do. But Rachel? She’s always looked like she was hanging off of Mackenzie’s every word.
When I didn’t answer right away, Rachel kept going: “And she’s so bossy too—it drives me up the wall! You know, I was kind of pissed for a while because she’s my best friend, and you were, like, trying to steal her for yourself. But you’re really so much nicer than she is. I’m so glad I’ve got you now! We can stick together, right?”
The weight of her arm across my shoulder had gotten uncomfortably heavy. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure.” Except the last thing I wanted to do right then was stick around. It wasn’t just the sneezing and the coughing—she was talking like her dad did last week too. Like she was spewing out every unpleasant and embarrassing thought in her head.
I shifted away, and she started scratching at her collarbone again, hard enough that the neck of her shirt slid to the side. She must have been working at that spot for hours. The skin was pink—not a flushed pink from pressure, but a dark, raw pink, like the blood was about to break through. Looking at it made my stomach turn.
Rachel only stopped scratching when she had to sneeze. She dropped her arm for a second, and I leaped up. But a music video came on at the same time. Rachel squealed.
“I love this song!” she said, jumping off the couch and grabbing my hands. “It’s so amazing!”
I bobbed along as she danced, wondering how I was going to get out of there. She raised her hands in the air and shimmied. “What d’you think?” she shouted even though the music wasn’t that loud. “I’ve been practicing in my room. Sometimes a striptease too! You know, for when I get a boyfriend. I’m going to rock his world.”
She spun around, laughing. The squeak of the front door opening right then was the most wonderful sound I’d ever heard.
“Rachel?” her mom called. “Sweetie, I told you to—”
She stopped short when she saw us. Rachel kept dancing, thrashing her hair from side to side. I’m not sure what upset her mom more: the fact that I was there, or the fact that her daughter was acting like a maniac. But she was definitely upset.
“Kaelyn,” she said, with a little tremor in her voice, “I don’t think this is the best time for Rachel to have guests.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “I didn’t know she was going to get so…worked up.”
Rachel skipped after me to the door. “Mom’s such a spoilsport,” she said in a loud whisper. “She thinks the other parents on the island let their kids run wild. But wild is freakin’ fun!”
She was scratching that spot again as she waved good-bye. I looked back when I was halfway down the block, and she was still standing there, waving and scratching.
I’m not just nervous now. I’m scared. I can’t make myself believe Rachel was drunk, or any of the other excuses I could have used for her dad. She was just not herself.
What the hell is happening?
Want to stick with Kaelyn as her world unravels? Keep reading The Way We Fall now!
Acknowledgments
No book ever comes into being completely on its own. I owe much gratitude to:
Deva Fagan, Amanda Coppedge, and the members of the Toronto Speculative Fiction Writers Group, for their input and encouragement during the early drafts.
Linda Nieves Perez and Elsa Viviana Munoz, for informing the book from a cultural perspective.
Dave Wilton and Alexis Hilgert, for their knowledge of government workings.
My editors at Help Me Edit and Absolute Editing, for polishing my prose.
Jennifer Munswami, for another cover you can’t look away from.
My husband, Chris, for his constant love and support.
And as always, the awesome readers who’ve spread their love for the Conspiracy of Magic series and wai
ted patiently for this second volume. I couldn’t do this without you!
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Megan Crewe lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband and son. She's been making up stories about magic and supernatural conspiracies and other what ifs since before she knew how to write words on paper. These days the stories are just a lot longer. Her other YA novels include the paranormal Give Up the Ghost, post-apocalyptic the Fallen World series, the sci fi Earth & Sky trilogy, the contemporary fantasy A Mortal Song, and the supernatural thriller Beast.
Connect with Megan online:
www.megancrewe.com