“Except,” Jake holds up a shaking hand, “become friends with Nessa. Who was trying to spend time with us and with him. You know how she is. She finds a hurt animal somewhere, and she has to help it. He’s not really different. He was alone and scared when he first started coming here, and she helped him. Get the hell over yourself and stop being such a damn dick. Or, before you know it, you’re going to lose her as a friend.”
That’s the longest speech he’s ever uttered…I withdraw. Why doesn’t he talk with me any?
After sitting there, pondering this for a little while, I get back to my feet and make my way out of the woods. How dark it’s gotten, and cold. I guess I really lost track of time. Mom’s probably worried sick, unless she’s out with her friends.
As I’m marching through all the overgrown grass, the hairs on the back of my neck and the feathers on my wings stand on end. I’m being watched.
Instead of giving away the fact that I know I’m being watched, I wrap my arms around myself against the chill and move at an agonizingly slow pace.
Eventually I make it out to the road in front of the Miller’s farm, and it’s only about a ten-minute walk to my house.
Finally home, I don’t smell microwaved leftovers like I usually do. So Mom is out with her friends. I find Billy intently staring at the takeout menus spread on our coffee table along with a bag of popcorn and an open beer. “Hey, squirt,” he greets without looking up. “I’m thinking Chinese. What about you?”
“All right with me.” I flop down in the chair and let my bag land beside me.
He places our order and disconnects. I only had to remind him of what I wanted five times. Old age is getting to him. “Should I even bother asking what took you so long?”
“I walked home.” It’s not a lie, but I’m not going into detail.
“Fight with your boyfriend?” He faces the TV.
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Uh….” He clears his throat. “Is this some kind of friends-with-benefits kind of thing? Do-does your mom need to have the talk with you?”
“I’ve always been in public school, dude,” I remind him in a bored tone. “We were taught about sex in fourth grade, not by the teacher, but by other students. Oh yeah, and Nicks is pregnant with my baby. Don’t tell Mom.”
His beer flies everywhere as he spits it out and then starts coughing. “Not.” Cough. “Funny.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Shut up.” He wipes at his nose. Ow, beer up the nose.
I start to reach for some popcorn, but he snatches the bag away.
“What?” I bat my lashes innocently.
“You’ll ruin your dinner.” Since when does he try to parent? “If you’re going to ruin your dinner, you need to do it right.” He goes from disapproving to smug. Then I catch on to where he’s going with this.
“Throw It All In, on a Tuesday? Dare we be that adventurous?”
He nods once then we fist pound. “Whoop, whoop!” We race each other to the kitchen, with him elbowing me, trying to slow me down. But I still make it there first and slide to a stop at the fridge. Then throw everything out of the freezer, all of the sweet stuff anyway. Popsicles, ice cream, frozen yogurt…and then we get everything out of the fridge. All of the sweet stuff, again.
Throw It All In Thursday was created when my appendix burst when I was thirteen. After the surgery, due to infection, I had to stay out of school and rest for nearly two weeks. One day—on a Thursday—Billy volunteered to stay at home with me so my mom could get a little break. I wasn’t the easiest kid to take care of when I was sick. I wasn’t a brat, I don’t like being still. For a kid who’s got ADHD, staying in bed and out of school is pretty close to hell.
Seeing how unhappy I was, Billy came up with Throw It All In Thursday, an ice cream mush party for two. We haven’t done this in years.
After our ice cream mush party for two, the Chinese finally arrives at our front door. We’re both too full to even eat an egg roll. We silently agree not to tell my mom.
<<<->>>
The next morning I try for a smile when my mom walks out of the door but I don’t think I pull it off too well. She doesn’t stop to ask questions. It’s just that I feel the falsity of it. I probably look like one of those clowns that are supposed to appear happy and friendly.
She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Yep, she was a teacher when I went there, too. That might’ve been the beginning of my being a freak, not fitting in anywhere, but, whatever. I’d rather have no friends than fake ones, and fake friends are what I’d have if I was Miss Popularity. The guys are my only real friends, and I’m fine with that. If only I could convince my mom that a girl can live without other female friends.
Knowing he’s here before he blows the horn, I’m already out the door and on the sidewalk. Getting in without saying anything is weird for me, but I buckle up and wait for him to take off. He doesn’t say anything either, doesn’t even start his truck.
“Is it wrong of me to want y’all to get along? Why in the hell is it so hard? I get along fine with you and I hate everybody!” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Why can’t my friends just try? You’ve been trying, which I’m grateful for. But Nicks picks a freakin’ fight for the hell of it. I don’t understand why. And I’m sick of getting my hopes up and then having them crushed. I just want there to be some peace here, ya know?” I pause, waiting for him to say something. Probably something sarcastic and annoying. “Say something!”
Then I see it. He’s holding up a huge stuffed panda bear dressed like a vampire. Well, actually he sits it on his leg because it’s so big. “I’m beary, beary sorry for being a douche.” He squeaks.
“Douche on a stick.” I struggle to hold back a smile.
“That, too.” He peeks over the bear and I can’t hold it back anymore. Wrapping my arms around both him and the bear, I feel close to tears. This time from happiness, because I’ve always wanted a panda bear—a real one, but same difference—and the vamp attire just makes it cuter because I love irony.
Chuckling, he tries to hug me back, but, like I said, it’s a big bear. “You’re awesome.” I settle the bear in between us.
“Just happy to be forgiven….”
I let him get the full view of my angry face. Then my façade breaks, and I wrap my arms around him again.
As we walk into the school, the whole student body is being escorted to the gym. There’s an assembly this early in the morning? Something’s not right. “Do you know what’s going on?”
He shakes his head.
Without a chance to even stop by our lockers, we’re pushed into the gym. He leads me to the top row of risers, where no one’s sitting. It’s usually the first spot to go.
I wonder what he’s making people see on this seat…a few start to come climb up, but then, suddenly, disgust washes over their faces, and they find somewhere else to sit, even if it’s on the floor. “I know you don’t want to be bothered by anyone right now,” he explains, “Neither do I.”
I nod.
“Nicks, over here bro!” one of the guys from the football team calls loudly to be heard over the bustle of the students.
Nicks and the guys appear in the doorway of the gym just then. When his eyes land on us, they light up. He smacks the guy who called for him on the back, and continues on up the bleachers.
“Seriously?” I growl through my teeth. Now everyone’s staring at us. But he keeps coming until he’s in front of me. The guys aren’t far behind him.
“Thanks for saving us some seats, man.” Kyle pounds fists with Devin.
“No problem,” he replies. Nicks sits down on the other side of me and beams. The guys fill in the other seats, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be sitting with the freak and the outsider, instead of their team.
Giving Devin a what-the-hell expression, I’m about to ask the question aloud, but Principal Knight taps on the microphone. “I need everyone’s attent
ion,” he announces in a very serious voice. Something that I think gets everyone’s attention right away. There’s never a lot of seriousness in this school.
“Thank you. I’m sure some of you have heard the news already.” He goes on, comments punctuated by the girls crying. “A beloved student, Racheal Montgomery, was murdered last weekend.” There are gasps around the room, one of them mine. I didn’t really know her that well, but she was a member of my mom’s Coven. I used to see her every holiday. She was a cheerleader who wasn’t a cliché. She was actually nice, one of the few people who didn’t call me a freak to my face or behind my back.
What in the hell happened? Oh, Goddess, I have to tell Mom.
Without hesitation, I do something I’ve never done before. My mom’s never even taught me how, but I mentally invade the principal’s mind. I expect it to be one of the normal reasons, car accident, abusive boyfriend…but I come back to myself even more confused. I keep seeing blood, so much of it, a cloaked figure with a knife and some impending doom?
I must be fabricating something.
Devin wraps his arms around me and tugs me closer. I guess he knows I needed it, even if I wouldn’t admit it aloud. Nicks takes my hand in his, I guess trying to comfort me, too. In other words, he’s sucking up.
My friends appear as scared and worried as I feel. Well, the “guy way” of looking scared, being angry. Especially Antonio, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry.
“Sheriff Morris is here to—” He shakes his head and steps away from the microphone, letting Billy take over.
“The town is going on alert. There hasn’t been any violence in years. Since the Alburgur incident.” Everyone on the last row freezes at the mention of his name. Denis Alburgur. A name I’ll never forget.
Denis used to go to school here. He was an outcast. Instead of bombers and people with guns shooting down everyone in sight, we have people claiming to be a part of the undead team. He claimed to be a vampire, claimed he had been since birth, and that he’d killed many. It blew up. All over the news, in the paper, on TV, online…it was all anyone could talk about.
I guess he thought people would bow down at his feet, like with Dracula. Love Dracula, the actual guy. Vlad the Impaler.
Instead, they sent in the guys with the big nets to take him to the nuthouse. Before they got him there, an angry mob stopped the van and tipped it over, killing the driver, the attendant, and torturing Denis until he bled out from his wounds.
He wasn’t actually a vamp, far from it. He was human. As far as we know, he never hurt a soul. I guess he just wanted to be loved. He grew up in a bad home, had a shitty life.
You could only imagine what they would do if they ever found out the truth about us. For obvious reasons, we don’t like saying his name.
“Two girls have already been kidnapped and murdered out of town. And the murder here has the same MO.
“Don’t go out at night. If you do, go in groups. Be safe, and trust no one.” Billy stares down the crowd. Why is he giving so much away? You’re not supposed to do that…are you?
He never was good with explaining or keeping some things to himself. I guess that’s why we get along so well.
I stand once the assembly’s over with. “I need to go home. I have to tell mom and we have to–” The gym’s not completely empty yet.
“Can you get a ride?” Devin flexes his hands. “I have a stupid test to take today. If I fail, there goes my grade for the rest of the year.”
“Poor baby.” I slap his arm.
“I’ll take her,” Jake volunteers, surprising us all. He hardly ever talks.
“Thanks, Jakey.” I give him a one-armed hug. Now I can question him….
CHAPTER SEVEN
~ A Wiccan Woman’s Cry ~
We pause by the door where Billy and Principal Knight are talking. Billy takes a look at my face and so does Principal Knight and an understanding passes between them. “Go on home. Make sure to eat something.” Billy goes right back to talking with the principal.
Without saying anything to each other, we make our way to the parking lot. Ever since I’ve known Jake, he’s never asked any unnecessary questions. He’s always just known things. So, when we get in his small truck and he turns to me with a serious expression and asks, “Are you okay? I mean besides you knowing that girl and all,” all I can do is stare for a moment.
“Yeah.” I reply awkwardly.
“About Nicks—” He pulls out of the parking lot.
“He has his asshole-ish tendencies.” I shrug it off. “No biggie.”
He gazes straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek. One of his nervous habits, not that he’d ever let on he gets nervous. Then he shakes his head, briefly glancing at me. “I know you. I know when you want to kick his ass. Why’re you pretending you don’t want to?”
“I’m just….” I lean heavily against the window. “Tired.”
“Then you should go home and get some rest,” he remarks. “Instead of sticking your nose in books.”
“Not that kind of tired,” I whisper, staring absentmindedly out the window.
<<<->>>
My mom gasped when the news left my lips. She sat unmoving for twenty minutes and then she got on the phone. First she called Racheal’s mom—Janice—and then I don’t know who else or even what all she did. Mostly because I zoned out, not wanting to be there anymore.
<<<->>>
In Wicca—which is what my religion is technically considered—we don’t do the “funeral” thing. We believe in celebrating the life she had the chance to live. Not crying as her body goes into the ground. We believe in helping her soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it, move on from this realm and be at peace with what happened.
She felt closest to fire, and it couldn’t be a more perfect day to celebrate her life. The sky looks like it’s ablaze as the sun slowly starts its descent.
It’s like she’s standing right here with us in the circle of men and women.
Mom lets the match fall into the fire pit and the heat welcomes me with its warmth. Seeing Janice standing there by herself at the edge of the group has my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. I hurry over and embrace her. After a moment of hesitation, she hugs me back. “Thanks, Nessa.” She whimpers and then lets me go, going on to accept hugs from other people.
As soon as my mom let out the SOS call, everybody hurried to our meeting spot. Down the mountain a little bit from our house, through the woods into a clearing in the shape of a circle, a place where people hardly ever go anymore. Because of the ghost stories and things people have “seen” down here.
It was rumored that an old, dark witch had a small cabin down here. She kidnapped little kids, sucked their souls from their bodies, and cooked the remains, feeding them to her animals.
It wasn’t exactly a myth, though. I would know because that old, dark witch was my Grandma Delliana. Except she wasn’t evil, she was just antisocial sometimes and she most definitely wasn’t a succubus. Ignorant people, I swear. A succubus isn’t a witch, she’s a seductress demon.
My grandma only liked you if you were family and even then only for a short visit. Soon you’d end up getting on her nerves because you’d “think too loud.” Still, she’d never hurt a fly. The rumors were created by close-minded people and drama queens who need entertainment in their lives.
She died before I was born, but my mom tells me stories.
My mom claps her hands twice to get everyone’s attention. As the High Priestess of our small coven, she leads us—especially me—into not doing stupid stuff. And as the High Priestess’s daughter I’m supposed to be well behaved. That part always doesn’t work out.
Soft music starts playing from my iPod.
“The Earth, the Air, the Fire, the Water. Return, return, return….”
She walks to Beth first. “Merry meet, Sister,” she greets, giving her a reassuring nod. This is her first time joining us and she grips a green candle in shakin
g fingers.
“Merry m-meet,” she replies.
“Just breathe.” My mom squeezes her shoulder, “From the sacred, sweet grass we stand on, this night. To the soil that feeds our trees. I call Earth to our circle.” Her clear voice carries. The green candle lights itself. “Thank you, Sasha dear.”
Sasha nods once trying for her normal devious grin, but I can see the sorrow shining in her dark eyes. She was really close to Racheal. When Mom calls Air, the wind bends the boughs of the trees and Molly coughs, guiltily staring down to the ground. This continues with each element. When Fire’s called, I get another sudden—much welcomed—rush of warmth. When Water’s called, it brings a drizzle, and I tilt my head back and try to catch raindrops in my mouth.
Then she moves to the center of the circle, and, once everyone’s calmed down again, she holds up a purple candle. “Tonight, on this rather windy night….” She gives a pointed, playful look to Molly, who grins sheepishly. “We welcome you, Spirit, with open arms and ask you to joins us.”
Once the candle lights itself, she takes a deep breath. Holding her arms above her head, she gracefully dances around the circle three times before stopping in the middle again, I want to clap happily but stop myself.
“We’re here to celebrate the life of young Racheal,” my mom calls out. “She was taken too soon, and now we’re here to help her move on.” Then she goes on to tell the story of when she and her mother first came to join us.
The stories continue around the circle, and Janice starts to cry at one point. My mom comforts her, and when it’s my turn, I freeze, until I get one of Mom’s reassuring nods.
“I actually didn’t know her very well, but she was always nice to me when we did talk. Um…. I think it’s obvious she’ll be missed, and I don’t know what else to say.” I pass her pom-pom on to the person beside me.
After the last story, the women and very few men bow their heads in silence. I try to, but the flame on the Spirit candle catches my attention. And then something rushes through me, probably one of the ghosts that like to hang around and torment Billy. But, with the rush, I get a sudden realization.
Freaksville Page 6