by Becca Fox
A vein began throbbing on my aunt’s forehead so I hurried to conclude my tale. “He was worried something bad might happen to me since I was alone, and offered to walk me home. Now, here we are. Oh—” I shrugged out of his windbreaker. “And he let me borrow his jacket because mine sucks. Thanks, by the way.”
Charlie accepted it, quickly shoving his arms through the sleeves. “Don’t mention it.”
I crossed my arms against my chest. A shiver ran down my spine. I watched Aunt Dinah expectantly.
The old woman continued standing there, trembling in rage, mouth working as if searching for the right words. Charlie zipped up his jacket and threw me a questioning look.
“Oh, this is normal,” I told him, further sealing my horrible fate. (If you’re going to hell, you might as well have fun on the way there, right?) “See, it takes her a minute or so to come up with the right punishment and the nasty-ass words she wants to use to deliver said punishment. You can probably go.”
“You may not go!” Aunt Dinah snarled.
Charlie stayed where he was.
Then came the familiar chirp of a cop cruiser. Charlie and I turned to see the car slide into park on the corner of Meridian and eighty-sixth, blue and red lights flashing.
“That’s my uncle.” Charlie turned back to Aunt Dinah. “He’s a detective at the North Precinct. I asked him to come get me once I’d seen Esmer home safely.”
“If any of that is true, I’ll be very impressed,” Aunt Dinah grumbled. “Thank you for returning my niece to me. Goodnight.” Then she turned on her heel and marched back to the house.
I blinked after her, my mouth drawn back in an upside down parabola shape. “Oh-kay, then. I guess that’s my cue to exit stage right.” I smiled at him. “Thanks. Really. This was fun.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It kind of was.”
I brushed the dancing hair out of my face. “So I guess I’ll—”
“Esmeralda!”
I jumped at the fierceness with which she said my name and then hurried across the lawn. “See you in art class, Charlie boy!”
I didn’t hear a reply.
Aunt Dinah shut the door after I’d entered the house. She came uncomfortably close to my face. I think her nose actually touched mine. I took a step back so I could see something other than her murderous eyes.
“I’ll be hiring someone to install a security system tomorrow morning,” she growled. “I’ll be arming it every day after you get home from school. If you sneak out of your window again, young lady, I’ll be giving your description to the police and telling them you stole something very valuable of mine. No one will be paying for your bail. Have I made myself clear?”
“If you bark at me like that again when there ain’t no good reason for it, I might just confess to the crime and spend the rest of my life in prison,” I said through a plastic smile.
Aunt Dinah reared back as if I’d slapped her, but she quickly regained her haughtiness and came in close to poke me in the chest with a bony finger. “Prison isn’t nearly as nice as it is here, Esmeralda!”
“Oh, I know,” I said, stepping out of her reach. “I’ve been there before. The rooms suck and the food tastes like feet, but the company is a lot better.” I ambled up the stairs while she sputtered incoherently. “Goodnight.”
* * *
Chapter 10
Jasmine
“I still can’t believe you didn’t introduce us,” I said with a pout.
Charlie glared at me through the rear view mirror. “I didn’t even know you were in the car until I got in.”
“There was still time!”
“What’re you talking about? Esmer was already inside and probably getting scolded by her aunt.”
“All right, you two,” Uncle Vic grumbled. “That’s enough arguing for one evening.”
Lightning cracked overhead and spurts of rain hit the windshield. The wiper blades came on, squeaking occasionally as they made their way across the glass. Charlie crossed his arms and burrowed back against the passenger seat, glaring out at the rain like a child. Uncle Victor was no better; he scowled as he came to a stop and then turned his head sharply in both directions before accelerating into the intersection.
I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I wanted to meet the girl who’d made my brother think about someone other than himself. I’d gotten a glimpse of her through the dark windows of my uncle’s police cruiser. Esmeralda Barnes was long and thin, but carried herself with enough confidence to attract attention. Her reddish-orange hair had been a splash of color against the shadows. I hadn’t been able to see much of her face, but I thought she looked good in my brother’s windbreaker. I leaned forward as much as the seat belt would allow and poked my finger through one of the holes in the prisoner cage. The tip touched Charlie’s shoulder.
“Did you get her number?”
“No.”
“Did you get to hold her hand?”
Charlie snorted and turned away from me. “Why would I want to hold her hand?”
Uncle Victor was watching us out of the corner of his eye. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who was curious about my brother’s outing.
“I have it on very good authority that holding hands is a common desire for people who are crushing on each other,” I said, smiling sweetly.
“I already told you; I’m not crushing on Esmer.”
“Well, I think you are.”
“Me too,” Uncle Victor added and then pretended to cough when Charlie sent him a withering look.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”
“Jasmine, tell your brother I was only commenting on what you said.”
“I can hear you just fine!” Charlie said. “I’m sorry I stormed out on you guys. I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone. I’m sorry I made you worry. Are you happy now? Can we skip the Five Stages of Vic’s Favorite Punishment? I didn’t go far. I didn’t get hurt. I didn’t get into trouble. I never do. Jesus, I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I’ve only ever had one rule,” Uncle Victor said, raising a finger for emphasis. “One rule, Charlie. You may not be a kid anymore but you’re still cursed. What happens when you have a vision and collapse in public? What happens when you get hurt? I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are.”
“If something like that happened, I would handle it. Because I’m an adult.” Charlie twisted around to aim his death glare at me. “Esmer and I are just friends so stop talking about her like we’re going to get married or something. It’s not a big deal that I’m hanging out with a girl from school. Just drop it, will you?” Then he faced forward again and continued his staring contest with the windshield.
I leaned back into my seat, biting my lip. Uncle Victor sighed heavily through his nose and turned on his blinker. Charlie shifted a little in his seat, occasionally brushing his cheek with his shoulder as if he had an annoying itch.
After a long period of silence, I said, “The windbreaker still smells like her, doesn’t it?”
He flushed. “Oh, shut up.”
December 14th, 1911
Dymeka’s fear has come to pass. It is nothing short of surreal, unfathomable. I can hardly believe it actually happened but Dymeka always suspected it would.
We were in Salvador, Brazil, when we found them. We had just gotten back from an expedition to the South Pole and our return ship made birth in Salvador, when we both felt something strange. I can only describe it as a sense of unnatural peace, as if we were meant to be there. No sooner had we stepped foot on the docks when we heard Izz and Segil’s names. They had new names, of course, but there was no mistaking their reputation: Revolution.
The whole town buzzed with both an excited and fearful frenzy of the possibility of an oppressive leader being usurped. We were instantly anxious despite the strange sense of security we felt, most likely caused by our proximity to our immortal brethren. We decided to stay right by the docks to be gone the
instant our next vessel was ready. We inquired of them that night at the tavern we resided in, only to receive a lengthy description of the foreign couple who seemed far too interested in setting up some sort of political standing for themselves in this city’s vulnerable state.
Within a few hours, we received an intimidating invitation to visit the esteemed revolutionaries’ home by some rather fierce-looking men. I knew Dymeka wanted to run immediately but I held his arm firmly and nodded ahead. Dymeka led me amongst the guards and we traveled only a few moments down the street to the compound.
We were immediately brought to the dinner table and offered spectacular food and wine by Izz and Segil. Their appearance had much changed, mostly their hair and wardrobe, but I still recognized my dear friends. I cried a little, feeling so complete with them again but knowing full well we were not friends.
We soon began to quarrel. My emotions caused Dymeka and Izz to be defensive. Segil was irritated by me instantly. They made it clear how little they thought of us. They accused us of being inactive, unproductive cowards.
We argued that this world wasn’t ours to rule or conquer. Because we will live for eternity, it would be unethical to change things when we ourselves would be the only ones benefiting from those changes. It was selfish and dangerous. They would be recognized over time and history would not be kind to them, especially if our true nature was revealed. But they, so proud and confident, replied, “Do you think us simpletons? Every precaution has been accounted for. Even if our secret was discovered over centuries, what could those little mortals do?”
“You would be driven away, persecuted, forced to live like wild animals, tortured, just like before,” Dymeka said boldly. “The world is shrinking. Soon there will be no place to run to, no place you would not be recognized.”
“What would you have us do, oh wise one? Travel like rats all over the world?” Segil retorted. “Never settling, never owning something, never making a difference?”
“We live free of guilt!” I defended us.
“Guilt? What guilt?”Izz inquired haughtily.
Our arguing was clearly going nowhere, so Dymeka took me and we tried to leave the house. But their guards barred our every escape.
“You may leave when we have dismissed you,” Segil said.
“Be forewarned,” Dymeka told them, “Death will not allow us freedom forever. And if she does not stop you in your games, then someone else will.” Dymeka threw himself through the window we were standing by, pulling me along with him. We sailed to the ground two stories below and ran as fast as we could, away from the flying bullets chasing us. We were both shot, but what were bullets to us? Temporary pain.
We swore from then on never to make contact with our immortal brethren again. We stole a small vessel and sailed to Europe, unsure when we would ever feel safe enough to return.
* * *
Chapter 11
Esmeralda
A shadow appeared over the new book I was pretending to read. I looked up, mouth full of chicken salad sandwich. Charles stood there, holding his lunch tray in one hand and gripping the strap of his backpack with the other.
I hurriedly chewed and swallowed. “What up?”
“How are you eating hunched over like that without getting any chicken salad on your dress?” he asked.
Today, I’d decided to wear a short, white, lacey dress from my Goth stage. I shrugged, gripping the sandwich more tightly in one hand so I could reach for a napkin. “It’s a special talent of those who like to wear white.” I wiped the mayo from around my mouth and tossed the wrinkled napkin onto my tray. “Looking for someplace to sit?”
“Yeah.” Charlie cast a harsh look over his shoulder. “A group of brave jerks decided to commandeer my usual table.”
I nodded at the other side of my bench, having taken another bite of my sandwich.
He lowered his backpack to the ground and kicked it under the bench before sitting.
“Careful,” I said with a cough. “I might chip your skateboard.”
Charlie shrugged, tearing open packages of mustard and ketchup. “It’s old.”
I finished the last of my sandwich and wiped my fingers against another napkin. “So are you grounded for life?”
“Yeah, kind of, but I’m already a recluse so it’s really just superficial grounding. You?”
“I’m not exactly grounded, but the old bat’s having an alarm system installed in the house. If I break out again, she’s going to sic the troopers on me.”
“Nice.” He spread the condiments across his hotdog and shoved half of it into his mouth. While he chewed, his gaze flitted across the campus.
Indecipherable mutters and sporadic laughs echoed across the picnic area and the stone amphitheater to meet us. Clouds danced over the sun; the wind from last night had died down into a lazy breeze, but it still had bite. Winter was coming.
I felt someone watching me and turned casually to meet Randi’s death glare. She stood with her posse under the awnings shading the wall of classrooms next to the picnic area. The tall, burly chick with the dude’s haircut elbowed Karen, her second in command, and nodded at me. I stiffened, preparing for a fight. But Karen took one look at Charlie and shook her head. I looked over at my new friend, wondering if he was giving them the death-glare or something. He was still eating and surveying campus.
Were they afraid of him?
“Nice choker, by the way,” Charlie said once he’d swallowed.
“Thanks,” I said, a bit distracted by the argument going on between Randi and Karen now. Randi was gesturing at me, getting angrier by the second. Karen was still shaking her head. I snickered. “Don’t look now, but Randi’s pissed.”
Charlie sat up and looked around, suddenly concerned. “If Randi and her gang are around, you should probably hide. We went to the same high school so they won’t mess with me because they know I’m weird but—”
“Looks like I’m safe as long as I’m with you.”
Charlie spotted them just in time to see Karen march away from Randi, who shouted, “Bitch, don’t turn your back on me when I’m talking to you!” and stormed after her. The other three nameless followers trailed after her, eyeing me with a mixture of curiosity and frustration.
I flinched at the outburst, but my smile stayed in place. “Karen is so demoted once Randi catches up to her.”
“Huh,” Charlie said, relaxing back into the bench.
I reached for my water bottle. “Guess it’s a good thing we decided to be friends, huh?”
Some pink appeared across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess.” He finished his hotdog and popped open a can of soda before he spoke again. “My sister wants to meet you.”
I bit back a smile. “Yeah?”
“You came up in conversation once and she was surprised because, you know, I’m an outcast.”
I inclined my head in his direction. “So I’ve heard.”
“And now she won’t leave it alone. You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I can tell her you can’t because your aunt won’t let you or whatever, but at least I can tell her I asked.”
“Sure, I’ll come over.”
His head snapped in my direction, surprise making his eyes bulge. “You will?”
“I’ll tell my aunt you’re helping me out with algebra homework. I suck at math and my teacher can tell her that if she calls to ask.”
He let out an incredulous chuckle. “You remember Jasmine is insane, right?”
“What kind of heartless bitch would I be if I said ‘no’ to someone who’s mentally ill?”
Charlie stared at me for a minute and then nodded once. “Good point. How does Saturday sound? I can pick you up at noon.”
“That works.”
“Hey.”
We looked up to see a trio of douche bags standing before us. I knew they were douche bags because of the creepy little grins they were wearing, the confident glints in their eyes, and the way they carried themselves. Like they exp
ected me to be impressed by them.
I suppressed the urge to flip them the bird and simply said, “Hey back.”
“You’re Esmeralda, aren’t you?” said the leader, a tall, lean guy with perfectly styled blond hair and lazy hazel eyes. “Sorry, sorry. You go by Esmer, right?”
He looked somewhat familiar. I must’ve had him in one of my classes, but I wasn’t sure which. I glanced at his cronies and definitely recognized the one on the left, the one with the spiky black hair and freckles across his nose. I remembered thinking he looked a little like my older brother before he hit puberty.
“Yeah,” I said. “Who’re you?”
Charlie had become a statue beside me and none of the douche bags had acknowledged his presence. Any second now, one of them was going to glance at him, smirk, and say, ‘Hey, freak.’ I just knew it.
“I’m Allan,” said the leader. “These are my boys, Cole” —a nod at Spiky Black Hair and Freckles dude—“and Winston.” He gestured to the beefy black kid with the dimpled chin.
I flashed the angled peace sign. “’Sup.”
There was a round of snickers and guffaws, and then Allan went back to acting cool. “We’ve heard a lot of interesting things about you. Care to set the record straight?” He glanced at Charlie, smirked, and said, “Hey, psycho.”
Close enough. The asshole.
My new friend didn’t answer, just finished his soda. Then he crumpled the can in his fist and tossed it into the garbage can a few yards to his right.
I stood and dusted non-existent crumbs off the front of my dress. “Set the record straight, huh? Yeah, I guess I can do that for you.” I crossed my arms. “I’m from Boston. I was in a gang. I dated the leader. Was he abusive? Yeah, and I still managed to dump his ass. He taught me how to use a switchblade before I did, though. It’s hidden on my person at all times.” I glanced at Cole, who looked like he was going to say something pervy, and deadpanned, “Don’t.”