by L. J. Smith
“Hello.” Was that her own voice, so quiet and self-assured? His eyes were green. Green as oak leaves in summer. “Are you having a good time?” she said.
I am now. He didn’t say it, but she knew it was what he was thinking; she could see it in the way he stared at her. She had never been so sure of her power. Except that actually he didn’t look as if he were having a good time; he looked stricken, in pain, as if he couldn’t take one more minute of this.
The band was starting up, a slow dance. He was still staring at her, drinking her in. Those green eyes darkening, going black with desire. She had the sudden feeling that he might jerk her to him and kiss her hard, without ever saying a word.
“Would you like to dance?” she said softly. I’m playing with fire, with something I don’t understand, she thought suddenly. And in that instant she realized that she was frightened. Her heart began to pound violently. It was as if those green eyes spoke to some part of her that was buried deep beneath the surface—and that part was screaming “danger” at her. Some instinct older than civilization was telling her to run, to flee.
She never moved. The same force that was terrifying her was holding her there. This is out of control, she thought suddenly. Whatever was happening here was beyond her understanding, was nothing normal or sane. But there was no stopping it now, and even while frightened she was reveling in it. It was the most intense moment she’d ever experienced with a boy, but nothing at all was happening. He was just gazing at her, as if hypnotized, and she was gazing back, while the energy shimmered between them like heat lightning. She saw his eyes go darker, defeated, and felt the wild leap of her own heart as he slowly stretched out one hand.
And then it all shattered.
“Why, Elena, how sweet you look,” said a voice, and Elena’s vision was dazzled with gold. It was Caroline, her auburn hair rich and glossy, her skin tanned to a perfect bronze. She was wearing a dress of pure gold lamé that showed an incredibly daring amount of that perfect skin. She slipped one bare arm through Stefan’s and smiled lazily up at him. They were stunning together, like a couple of international models slumming at a high school dance, far more glamorous and sophisticated than anyone else in the room.
“And that little dress is so pretty,” continued Caroline, while Elena’s mind kept on running on automatic. That casually possessive arm linked with Stefan’s told her everything: where Caroline had been at lunch these past weeks, what she had been up to all this time. “I told Stefan we simply had to stop by for a moment, but we’re not going to stay long. So you don’t mind if I keep him to myself for the dances, do you?”
Elena was strangely calm now, her mind a humming blank. She said no, of course she didn’t mind, and watched Caroline move away, a symphony in auburn and gold. Stefan went with her.
There was a circle of faces around Elena; she turned from them and came up against Matt.
“You knew he was coming with her.”
“I knew she wanted him to. She’s been following him around at lunchtime and after school, and kind of forcing herself on him. But …”
“I see.” Still held in that queer, artificial calm, she scanned the crowd and saw Bonnie coming toward her, and Meredith leaving her table. They’d seen, then. Probably everyone had. Without a word to Matt, she moved toward them, heading instinctively for the girls’ rest room.
It was packed with bodies, and Meredith and Bonnie kept their remarks bright and casual while looking at her with concern.
“Did you see that dress?” said Bonnie, squeezing Elena’s fingers secretly. “The front must be held on with superglue. And what’s she going to wear to the next dance? Cellophane?”
“Handiwrap,” said Meredith. She added in a low voice, “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Elena could see in the mirror that her eyes were too bright and that there was one spot of color burning on each cheek. She smoothed her hair and turned away.
The room emptied, leaving them in privacy. Bonnie was fiddling nervously with the sequined bow at her waist now. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing after all,” she said quietly. “I mean, you haven’t thought about anything else but him in weeks. Nearly a month. And so maybe it’s just for the best, and you can move on to other things now, instead of … well, chasing him.”
Et tu, Brute? thought Elena. “Thank you so much for your support,” she said aloud.
“Now, Elena, don’t be like that,” Meredith put in. “She isn’t trying to hurt you, she just thinks—”
“And I suppose you think so, too? Well, that’s fine. I’ll just go out and find myself some other things to move on to. Like some other best friends.” She left them both staring after her.
Outside, she threw herself into the whirl of color and music. She was brighter than she had ever been at any dance before. She danced with everyone, laughing too loudly, flirting with every boy in her path.
They were calling her to come up and be crowned. She stood on the stage, looking down on the butterfly-bright figures below. Someone gave her flowers; someone put a rhinestone tiara on her head. There was clapping. It all passed as if in a dream.
She flirted with Tyler because he was closest when she came off the stage. Then she remembered what he and Dick had done to Stefan, and she broke off one of the roses from her bouquet and gave it to him. Matt was looking on from the sidelines, his mouth tight. Tyler’s forgotten date was almost in tears.
She could smell alcohol along with the mint on Tyler’s breath now, and his face was red. His friends were around her, a shouting, laughing crowd, and she saw Dick pour something from a brown paper bag into his glass of punch.
She’d never been with this group before. They welcomed her, admiring her, the boys vying for her attention. Jokes flew back and forth, and Elena laughed even when they didn’t make sense. Tyler’s arm circled her waist, and she just laughed harder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Matt shake his head and walk away. The girls were getting shrill, the boys rowdy. Tyler was nuzzling moistly at her neck.
“I’ve got an idea,” he announced to the group, hugging Elena more tightly to him. “Let’s go someplace more fun.”
Somebody shouted, “Like where, Tyler? Your dad’s house?”
Tyler was grinning, a big, boozy, reckless grin. “No, I mean someplace where we can leave our mark. Like the cemetery.”
The girls squealed. The boys elbowed each other and faked punches.
Tyler’s date was still standing outside the circle. “Tyler, that’s crazy,” she said, her voice high and thin. “You know what happened to that old man. I won’t go there.”
“Great, then, you stay here.” Tyler fished keys out of his pocket and waved them at the rest of the crowd. “Who isn’t afraid?” he said.
“Hey, I’m up for it,” said Dick, and there was a chorus of approval.
“Me, too,” said Elena, clear and defiant. She smiled up at Tyler, and he practically swung her off her feet.
And then she and Tyler were leading a noisy, roughhousing group out into the parking lot, where they were all piling into cars. And then Tyler was putting the top of his convertible down and she was climbing in, with Dick and a girl named Vickie Bennett squashing into the backseat.
“Elena!” somebody shouted, far away, from the lighted doorway at the school.
“Drive,” she said to Tyler, taking off her tiara, and the engine growled to life. They burned rubber out of the parking lot, and the cool night wind blew into Elena’s face.
7
Bonnie was on the dance floor, eyes shut, letting the music flow through her. When she opened her eyes for an instant, Meredith was beckoning from the sidelines. Bonnie thrust her chin out mutinously, but as the gestures became more insistent she rolled her eyes up at Raymond and obeyed. Raymond followed.
Matt and Ed were behind Meredith. Matt was scowling. Ed was looking uncomfortable.
“Elena just left,” said Meredith.
“It’s a free country,” said Bonnie.
“She went with Tyler Smallwood,” said Meredith. “Matt, are you sure you didn’t hear where they were going?”
Matt shook his head. “I’d say she deserves whatever happens—but it’s my fault, too, in a way,” he said bleakly. “I guess we ought to go after her.”
“Leave the dance?” Bonnie said. She looked at Meredith, who mouthed the words you promised. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered savagely.
“I don’t know how we’ll find her,” said Meredith, “but we’ve got to try.” Then she added, in a strangely hesitant voice, “Bonnie, you don’t happen to know where she is, do you?”
“What? No, of course not; I’ve been dancing. You’ve heard of that, haven’t you: what you go to a dance for?”
“You and Ray stay here,” Matt said to Ed. “If she comes back, tell her we’re out looking.”
“And if we’re going, we’d better go now,” Bonnie put in ungraciously. She turned and promptly ran into a dark blazer.
“Well, excuse me,” she snapped, looking up and seeing Stefan Salvatore. He said nothing as she and Meredith and Matt headed for the door, leaving an unhappy-looking Raymond and Ed behind.
The stars were distant and ice-bright in the cloudless sky. Elena felt just like them. Part of her was laughing and shouting with Dick and Vickie and Tyler over the roar of the wind, but part of her was watching from far away.
Tyler parked halfway up the hill to the ruined church, leaving his headlights on as they all got out. Although there had been several cars behind them when they left the school, they appeared to be the only ones who’d made it all the way to the cemetery.
Tyler opened the trunk and pulled out a six-pack. “All the more for us.” He offered a beer to Elena, who shook her head, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt all wrong being here—but there was no way she was going to admit that now.
They climbed the flagstone path, the girls staggering in their high heels and leaning on the boys. When they reached the top, Elena gasped and Vickie gave a little scream.
Something huge and red was hovering just above the horizon. It took Elena a moment to realize it was actually the moon. It was as large and unrealistic as a prop in a science-fiction movie, and its bloated mass glowed dully with an unwholesome light.
“Like a big rotten pumpkin,” said Tyler, and lobbed a stone at it. Elena made herself smile brilliantly up at him.
“Why don’t we go inside?” Vickie said, pointing a white hand at the empty hole of the church doorway.
Most of the roof had fallen in, although the belfry was still intact, a tower stretching up high above them. Three of the walls were standing; the fourth was only knee-high. There were piles of rubble everywhere.
A light flared by Elena’s cheek, and she turned, startled, to see Tyler holding a lighter. He grinned, showing strong white teeth, and said, “Want to flick my Bic?”
Elena’s laughter was the loudest, to cover her uneasiness. She took the lighter, using it to illuminate the tomb in the side of the church. It was like no other tomb in the cemetery, although her father said he’d seen similar things in England. It looked like a large stone box, big enough for two people, with two marble statues lying in repose on the lid.
“Thomas Keeping Fell and Honoria Fell,” said Tyler with a grand gesture, as if introducing them. “Old Thomas allegedly founded Fell’s Church. Although actually the Smallwoods were also there at the time. My great-grandfather’s great-great-grandfather lived in the valley by Drowning Creek—”
“—until he got eaten by wolves,” said Dick, and he threw back his head in a wolf imitation. Then he belched. Vickie giggled. Annoyance crossed Tyler’s handsome features, but he forced a smile.
“Thomas and Honoria are looking kind of pale,” said Vickie, still giggling. “I think what they need is a little color.” She produced a lipstick from her purse and began to coat the white marble mouth of the woman’s statue with waxy scarlet. Elena felt another sick twinge. As a child, she’d always been awed by the pale lady and the grave man who lay with their eyes closed, hands folded on their breasts. And, after her parents died, she’d thought of them as lying side by side like this down in the cemetery. But she held the lighter while the other girl put a lipstick mustache and clown’s nose on Thomas Fell.
Tyler was watching them. “Hey, they’re all dressed up with no place to go.” He put his hands on the edge of the stone lid and leaned on it, trying to shift it sideways. “What do you say, Dick—want to give them a night out on the town? Like maybe right in the center of town?”
No, thought Elena, appalled, as Dick guffawed and Vickie shrieked with laughter. But Dick was already beside Tyler, getting braced and ready, the heels of his hands on the stone lid.
“On three,” said Tyler, and counted, “One, two, three.”
Elena’s eyes were fixed on the horrible clown-like face of Thomas Fell as the boys strained forward and grunted, muscles bunching under cloth. They couldn’t budge the lid an inch.
“Damn thing must be attached somehow,” said Tyler angrily, turning away.
Elena felt weak with relief. Trying to seem casual, she leaned against the stone lid of the tomb for support—and that was when it happened.
She heard the grinding of stone and felt the lid shift under her left hand all at once. It was moving away from her, making her lose her balance. The lighter went flying, and she screamed and screamed again, trying to keep her feet. She was falling into the open tomb, and an icy wind roared all around her. Screams rang in her ears.
And then she was outside and the moonlight was bright enough that she could see the others. Tyler had hold of her. She stared around her wildly.
“Are you crazy? What happened?” Tyler was shaking her.
“It moved! The lid moved! It slid open and—I don’t know—I almost fell in. It was cold …”
The boys were laughing. “Poor baby’s got the jitters,” Tyler said. “C’mon, Dicky-boy, we’ll check it out.”
“Tyler, no—”
But they went inside anyway. Vickie hung in the doorway, watching, while Elena shivered. Presently, Tyler beckoned her from the door.
“Look,” he said when she reluctantly stepped back inside. He’d retrieved the lighter, and he held it above Thomas Fell’s marble chest. “It still fits, snug as a bug in a rug. See?”
Elena stared down at the perfect alignment of lid and tomb. “It did move. I nearly fell into it….”
“Sure, whatever you say, baby.” Tyler wound his arms around her, clasping her to him backwards. She looked over to see Dick and Vickie in much the same position, except that Vickie, eyes shut, was looking as if she enjoyed it. Tyler rubbed a strong chin over her hair.
“I’d like to go back to the dance now,” she said flatly.
There was a pause in the rubbing. Then Tyler sighed and said, “Sure, baby.” He looked at Dick and Vickie. “What about you two?”
Dick grinned. “We’ll just stay here awhile.” Vickie giggled, her eyes still shut.
“Okay.” Elena wondered how they were going to get back, but she allowed Tyler to lead her out. Once outside, however, he paused.
“I can’t let you go without one look at my grandfather’s headstone,” he said. “Aw, c’mon, Elena,” he said as she started to protest, “don’t hurt my feelings. You’ve got to see it; it’s the family pride and joy.”
Elena made herself smile, although her stomach felt like ice. Maybe if she humored him, he would get her out of here. “All right,” she said, and started toward the cemetery.
“Not that way. This way.” And the next moment, he was leading her down toward the old graveyard. “It’s okay, honest, it’s not far off the path. Look, there, you see?” He pointed to something that shone in the moonlight.
Elena gasped, muscles tightening around her heart. It looked like a person standing there, a giant with a round hairless head. And she didn’t like being here at all, among the worn and leaning granite, stones of c
enturies past. The bright moonlight cast strange shadows, and there were pools of impenetrable darkness everywhere.
“It’s just the ball on top. Nothing to be scared of,” said Tyler, pulling her with him off the path and up to the shining headstone. It was made of red marble, and the huge ball that surmounted it reminded her of the bloated moon on the horizon. Now that same moon shone down on them, as white as Thomas Fell’s white hands. Elena couldn’t contain her shivering.
“Poor baby, she’s cold. Got to get her warmed up,” said Tyler. Elena tried to push him away, but he was too strong, wrapping her in his arms, pulling her against him.
“Tyler, I want to go; I want to go right now. …”
“Sure, baby, we’ll go,” he said. “But we’ve got to get you warm first. Gosh, you’re cold.”
“Tyler, stop,” she said. His arms around her had merely been annoying, restricting, but now with a sense of shock she felt his hands on her body, groping for bare skin.
Never in her life had Elena been in a situation like this, far away from any help. She aimed a spiked heel for his patent-leather instep, but he evaded her. “Tyler, take your hands off me.”
“C’mon, Elena, don’t be like that, I just want to warm you up all over….”
“Tyler, let go,” she choked out. She tried to wrench herself away from him. Tyler stumbled, and then his full weight was on her, crushing her into the tangle of ivy and weeds on the ground. Elena spoke desperately. “I’ll kill you, Tyler. I mean it. Get off me.”
Tyler tried to roll off, giggling suddenly, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated, almost useless. “Aw, c’mon, Elena, don’ be mad. I was jus’ warmin’ you up. Elena the Ice Princess, warmin’ up … You’re gettin’ warm now, aren’ you?”
Then Elena felt his mouth hot and wet on her face. She was still pinned beneath him, and his sloppy kisses were moving down her throat. She heard cloth tear.