Dark Star

by Bethany Frenette

  But that night I hadn’t seen him.

  I looked at the time. It was past seven thirty. Gideon was my ride, and I’d told him I’d be at his house at eight, which meant I should probably hurry.

  I walked upstairs to my room and changed shirts. My hair —unruly even on its best days—had begun to work loose from its ponytail and needed to be fixed. Whatever I did with my face, Tink was sure to change by pulling me into the bathroom and dragging out her makeup bag, so I didn’t bother with anything more than a thin layer of lipstick. I looked pale. My summer tan had faded, leaving only a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of my nose. It couldn’t be helped, I supposed. I tossed my phone into my bag and headed back downstairs.

  I was almost out the door when, without warning, Leon appeared in front of me.

  I dropped my bag. A startled scream lodged itself somewhere in my lungs and emerged as a gurgle. I clapped a hand to my chest, trying to gasp in breath.

  “God, Leon! If you’re going to do that in the house, could you at least say BAMF! or something? I’m too young for a heart attack.”

  My reference was clearly lost on him. He just stood there, looking all innocent and confused. “Did I scare you?”

  “Like you didn’t do that on purpose.” I resisted the urge to hit him. I’d tried that once; it hurt. He was a lot more solid than he looked. “And you say I’m immature.”

  His arm slid out in front of me as I tried to push past him, blocking my path to the door. He stood looking down at me, giving me his best surly-sidekick glower.

  I wondered where he’d come from. Since he didn’t feel the need to enter the house in a conventional manner, he could’ve returned without me knowing. He was dressed as he normally was: white shirt, dark slacks, tie, and he smelled like soap, not frosting, which meant he was once again lacking in baked goods. I glowered back up at him. “Did you need something?”

  He didn’t move. “Where are you going?”

  “To plot your downfall,” I snapped. I bent to retrieve my bag and then sneaked beneath his arm. It wasn’t the most dignified exit, but it worked. I turned to face him, once I reached the door. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m meeting my friends at the Drought and Deluge. Mom knows.”

  “The Drought and Deluge,” he repeated, frowning. “Lucy knows about this?”

  Well. Sort of. She knew I was going out, at least. “Didn’t I just say that?” When he didn’t answer, I added, “I’ve been there before. They serve ginger ale and greasy mozzarella sticks. It’s not exactly a den of sin.” He went right on frowning. I might not be able to get a sense of him with my Knowing, but that was easy to read: he was worried about something. “All right, now you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

  “I just don’t think you should go alone,” he hedged.

  “I’m not going alone,” I said, turning as I reached for the doorknob. “I’m going with my friends. Problem solved.”

  “I think I should accompany you.”

  My mouth actually dropped open at that. I spun back around. “Shouldn’t you be out with Mom? Patrolling or whatever it is you Guardians do?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Studying, maybe?” Not that I’d ever seen him open a textbook. He was probably one of those obnoxious people who just remembered everything. “Seriously, exciting as the prospect of my very own sidekick is, don’t you have some crime to fight? Homework to do? Pastries to bake?”

  That annoyed him enough that he scowled down at me. “This may astonish you, but, yes, I can think of any number of things I’d rather do than spend the night watching you and your friends grind to embarrassing music.”

  “Great,” I gritted out. “Then go do them.”

  It was no use. Leon had gotten a particularly stubborn look on his face. Mom must have instructed him to play babysitter, and he was nothing if not dutiful. He took a step toward me and said, “I’ll drive you.”

  I’d been on Leon’s motorcycle before and had spent every moment of it fearing for my life, so I wasn’t sure why he thought that was an incentive. “I’m not taking a ride on your deathmobile. That thing is beyond being on its last legs. Or wheels. Or whatever.”

  “I wouldn’t let you ride with me if it wasn’t safe,” he said, looking a little wounded.

  Well, that was probably true. He did have a safety fixation.

  I stuck a hand on my hip. “Am I being punished for something?” I asked. Unfortunately, that only made him look more wounded. I sighed. He was going to use his Hungry Puppy eyes on me, I could tell. And that was definitely a losing battle. “Okay, you can come with me—but not dressed like that.” I leaned forward, flipped up his collar, and loosened his tie. “This? This goes. And you are not wearing . . . any of this, actually. Go change.” I paused, considering. “You do have other clothing, right?”

  He furrowed his brow. “It’s not a crime to dress well.”

  “It is at the Drought and Deluge,” I replied. “You realize that you’ll be hanging out with a bunch of high school students, right?”

  “I’m not going to be hanging out.”

  “What are you going to do, lurk in a corner and scowl?” Actually, it was probably best not to give him any ideas. Before he could respond, I said, “Whatever you’re doing, you’re still not doing it dressed like that. Go change. I promise not to run off before you get back.”

  ***

  Leon and I arrived late.

  Friday evening traffic was a nightmare, and Leon appeared to have taken a page from the Book of Gideon and refused to drive any faster than five miles below the speed limit. Which was probably a good thing, considering his motorcycle had made several discouraging noises before he finally got it to start.

  To my surprise, I enjoyed the drive. Leon was much easier to deal with when he wasn’t talking. And I knew he was right: I could trust that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. After a while, I was able to relax and just lean against him, watching the lights of the skyline rise above us. I breathed in, listening to the churn of the engine, the surge of traffic, the rush of cool air that billowed around me.

  I just hoped Leon wouldn’t mention how tightly I’d clung to him every time we turned a corner.

  Once we parked, I slid off and handed him my helmet. “You could’ve just teleported us,” I said, before he could get a word in. I took a cautious step forward; motorcycles made me a little wobbly.

  “Into a parking ramp full of cars and cameras.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, steadying me.

  “To the Drought and Deluge,” I suggested.

  “A building full of people.”

  “Some place out of the way. Like . . . I don’t know, the janitor closet.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay. Stupid idea. But you’re paying for parking.” Gideon saw us as soon as we entered the club, and stood waving us toward the table where he sat with Tink. Tink was difficult to miss: she wore a bright red dress and appeared to have sprayed something sparkly over her entire body. Either that or she’d rolled in glitter. She glanced toward me, saw Leon, and even across the room I could see her eyebrows just about shoot up into her hair.

  “You actually enjoy this place?” Leon asked. He’d clamped a hand on my shoulder again, which meant the odds of me losing him in the throng weren’t good.

  “Not really your style?” I asked. Or rather shouted. We had to push our way through crowding bodies, and it was not a place for inside voices. “You could’ve stayed home.”

  “And missed this sweaty, hormone-infested experience?”

  The Drought and Deluge was filled with groping teenage boys, and more often than not I had to be dragged to it by Tink’s pestering—but I felt defensive of it nonetheless. I made a face at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer. By that time, we’d reached the table, and Tink was giving me a displeased little frown. “Hello, Audrey . . . plus one,” she said.

  Officially, Leon w
as a friend of the family—at least, that was how we explained him whenever he encountered one of my friends. Unlike Gideon, Tink wasn’t much of a fan. That surprised me, since he was reasonably attractive and male, but as far as I knew, she’d never even tried to make a conquest of him. Maybe it was those disapproving glares he liked to give.

  “Leon’s doing a study on high schoolers in social settings for one of his college classes,” I said. “He’s here to observe. Just ignore him. That’s my plan.”

  Gideon, of course, gave another cheery wave and said, “Hey, Leon.”

  Leon didn’t seem pleased by my explanation. He mumbled some excuse about how he’d actually planned to meet a friend here, and disappeared into the crowd.

  I turned my attention back to my friends. “It’s just us?” Tink had invited a few others, but she’d really only perfected the art of bending Gideon and me to her will.

  “Kit had plans and Erica ditched,” Tink said, standing and tugging at my hand. “Okay, time to fix you up. Hold down the fort, Gideon, this may take a while.”

  And, predictably, I was hauled off to the ladies’ room.

  ***

  “This room is nasty tonight,” Tink said, wetting a paper towel and wiping the counter before setting her bag down.

  “It’s always nasty.”

  “Nastier, then.”

  “You’re in a strange mood,” I remarked. “If you’re mad about Leon, it’s really not my fault.”

  “I’m not mad. I just don’t like the crowd tonight.”

  The crowd didn’t seem any different to me, but I shrugged. Tink grabbed my chin, turning my face from side to side. When she was through with me, I supposed I’d have enough glitter on me that they’d be able to cut half the lights to save on electricity.

  “Close your eyes. And quit moving around so much,” she commanded. “What happened to your hair?”

  “I had a helmet on,” I responded, lifting a hand to tuck away a few stray curls. “It’s not that bad. Are you almost done? If you make me look like a handmade Christmas ornament, I swear I’m never speaking to you again.”

  “Shush. I am making the world a better place—one pale, freckly girl at a time. Although I really should be teaching you. Give a man a fish and all that.” After a few minutes, she paused, turned me toward the mirror, and made a ta-da sort of noise. “All done!”

  “I am transformed,” I said. “I sparkle like a fairy princess.”

  In truth, it wasn’t that bad. Tink knew what she was doing, even if she had a tendency to go overboard. Thankfully, the only dousing of shimmer powder had occurred on my neck and hair.

  “A pretty, pretty princess,” Tink agreed. “With helmet hair. That, alas, you will have to live with, for my talents lie elsewhere. And I do believe you’re going to have to dance with me. Be my date, pretty princess?”

  “You’re such a romantic, Tink. I always wanted to get asked out in a bathroom.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, putting her fairy instruments back in their bag. “I’m serious. Two girls dancing. It’s hot. Guys look.” “Which is clearly the main objective of our lives.”

  A wicked glint came into her eyes. “Easy for you to say. You brought your own.”

  It took me a second to catch her meaning. Then I snorted. “That’s right. My very own tall, dark, and uptight babysitter.”

  “Still a guy.”

  Well, that part was undeniable. “But I didn’t bring him—”

  She grinned, grabbing my wrist and dragging me toward the door. “Perfect. So you’re free to be my date, then!”

  “That was sneaky,” I complained, laughing. I didn’t know what sort of guy Tink planned to meet here, since most of them tended to just want to rub up against you on the dance floor, but her enthusiasm was difficult to resist. “All right, I’ll dance with you. But you try to feel me up, and we’re having a talk.”

  She paused, tapping a finger against her mouth. “I think I can restrain myself.”

  “Come on, then,” I said, grinning back at her. “Let’s go grind to embarrassing music.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  I looped my arm in hers and we headed out the door.

  7

  On the dance floor, I did my best not to bump into any one.

  The room was dim and crowded, a haze of blurred faces and flickering lights. Briefly, I caught Leon’s gaze from the edge of the room, but I turned away before I could see the critical stare he was certain to have fixed on me. Instead, I focused on the motion around me. Music and murmurs pulsed. Tink was so busy lifting her arms and tossing her head, I was afraid she’d get whiplash.

  I might have felt bad abandoning Gideon to his own devices, but as soon as Tink and I left the table, he’d found some girl eager to gain his attention. He was dancing with her not far from us—a tall girl in a dark blue dress. I felt sorry for her, and not just because Gideon was an even worse dancer than I was. Whoever she was, she’d be smiled at and maybe flirted with, then forgotten an hour later when his mind wandered back to Brooke Oliver.

  “Can we be done yet?” I asked Tink, shouting to be heard above the crowd. I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. My abilities weren’t always a gift: with so many bodies around us, Knowing had begun to creep into my consciousness, and I was once again having difficulty blocking it. I felt off balance. My senses were skewed, my frequencies scrambled. I inched toward the back of the room, dropping a hand on Tink’s shoulder to drag her with me. She shook her head, tossed me a grin, and turned back toward the flow of the crowd. The light sparked along the glitter in her hair.

  When the music slowed, I stepped away, pushing through the throng toward our table. Gideon had already retreated there. I took a sip of his ginger ale and sat, peering past the dance floor to the shadow of tables and bar. In corners, the light was thin and dusty. I wondered where Leon had disappeared to.

  The girl Gideon had danced with moved to a table not far from us. Away from the whirl of the dance floor, I could see her clearly. Her hair was black and thick and tumbled toward her slim hips. When she turned toward us, I saw her huge dark eyes pinned on Gideon. She looked like she’d stepped out of a movie.

  I nodded to Gideon. “She’s really pretty,” I said.

  He grinned, quirking an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

  “Desperately.” I leaned forward to drape myself across him.

  “You know how I yearn for you. I bet I could take her, though. That’s the real reason I’m in martial arts—to scare away your potential girlfriends.”

  He laughed, prying himself loose, and nudged me back to my seat. Then he tucked his hands behind his head and said, “I’ve always wanted girls fighting over me.”

  “Hey, I already fought Hannah Starkey for you. Remember? Second grade?” I remembered. Hannah had developed a crush on Gideon and had apparently never learned about boundaries. She’d pulled down his pants at recess.

  I’d pushed her off the slide.

  “Ah, yes. Your early life of crime. How could I forget?” It had been something of an ordeal. The school had wanted to put me in counseling. Mom put me in martial arts, instead. To learn discipline and self-control, she said. Gideon’s parents had signed him up, as well, though he hadn’t stuck with it.

  Gram, of course, had found the incident hilarious. “It worked, didn’t it?” A little too well, even; not only had Hannah never bothered Gideon again, for years she’d taken to running at the sight of us.

  “Too bad you didn’t get to her before she kissed me at the water fountain.”

  “Some battles, you have to fight yourself.”

  Gideon looked pained. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d had to kiss her. She had terrible breath.”

  I laughed. Around us, the music picked up again, and we settled in to people watch—which we were both much better at than dancing. Gideon’s girl sent one final, longing look in his direction, then turned and got up to dance with someone else. Her dark hair made
a glossy wave down her back. She didn’t look again. I decided not to pester him about it. Leave it to Gideon to find the most impossibly gorgeous girl in the room and then shrug her aside. I hoped he’d find the courage to ask Brooke out some time this century, but it seemed unlikely. Tink had once threatened to do it for him, and he’d stopped speaking to her for a week.

  I leaned back in my chair, gazing out into the crowd. I didn’t recognize most of the people around us, but a blond girl we’d met during our last visit to the Drought and Deluge stopped by the table to chat. Since I couldn’t remember her name, I nodded along to her conversation and let Gideon occupy her. After a while, I began to tune them out, letting my eyes wander. On the dance floor, the low lights skimmed across faces and the movement of bodies, catching at colors, here and there a slight shimmer—

  A sudden awareness rippled through me, an internal alarm that made my body snap. Something was wrong, in a way I hadn’t felt since that foggy, unforgotten morning when I’d realized Gram had died.

  Gideon and the nameless girl stopped talking and stared at me.

  “Audrey?”

  My Knowings didn’t often happen like this, but when they did, I paid attention. I paused. Focused. Listened. For just a second, the room around me went very still. I heard nothing, not even my own breath. Then, as the motion and noise and light rushed back, my frequencies abruptly cleared.

  The knowledge was intense, visceral. Something about the way the light flickered. Something about that flash of color, that glimmer. I looked around the room dizzily. And then it struck me: where was Tink?

  I knew it then. I should—

  Go to her.

  Find her.

  Help her.

  “Gideon—have you seen Tink?”

  He shook his head. I heard him say my name, a question on his lips. I didn’t answer. I hadn’t noticed myself rise, but suddenly I was pushing through the crowd, searching. She couldn’t be that difficult to find. Short or not, a blond pixie in a bright red dress would stand out.

  All at once, everything was sharp and clear: the bar, where a waitress in a tight T-shirt was snapping her gum; bouncers looking bored and scowling; the dark corners where smuggled-in beer was being drunk from plastic cups. All of this registered, settling in my senses.