THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL

by NICOLE O’DELL

  Heather giggled. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  “Real mature.” Lauren splashed water at Heather’s face.

  “Hey, don’t do that.” Heather wiped water away from her eyes and pulled clumps of hair from her mouth. “This stuff is full of gross chemicals.” She blinked and looked at Joy. “But how about you? Are you and Austin going to get back together?”

  Lauren’s mouth dropped open. Her brown eyes wide with horror. “Heather!”

  Joy stared at Heather. Had her teammate really just asked something that stupid? How could she? Convenient she’d waited until Coach wasn’t around.

  “What?” Heather mustered up an innocent look. “Those two have had a thing for each other for like ever. She’ll forgive him.”

  Don’t count on it.

  “Oh man. That was a total fail.” Heather slumped onto the bus seat after the final volleyball game of the State Championships. Well, the final one their team would play, anyway.

  “I totally wanted that State banner for the gym.” Lauren sighed.

  “Sure. Of course we all did. But we played a good game.” Coach walked down the aisle and chose a seat among the players. “I’m so proud of you guys. Don’t be down about your performance. You did nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Sure. Except for the three serves Joy messed up. No one said it, but she knew they were thinking it. Oh, and then there was the out-of-bounds dig that cost her team the ball. And the win. What a difference a day could make. But at least they weren’t talking to her. That was a plus.

  “I want to honor a player who is no longer with us. Melanie Phillips would have had a blast at this event…. She deserved to be here.”

  And they probably would have won with Mel at the helm.

  Coach reached down to the space in front of her seat and lifted one of the large plaques. “This was Melanie’s team plaque. I want Joy to have it, to commemorate Melanie’s forever spot on this team.”

  The team broke into applause.

  Joy accepted the engraved piece. It would have a spot on her wall, right beside her own. Joy traced her finger along the engraved letters on the gold metal square. How had life become so difficult? So sad?

  The bus ride home was somber. The complete opposite of the ride to the State Championships. IPod playlists blared through headphones, and conversations stayed to a minimum … just the way Joy liked it.

  “Talk about dropping the ball,” Stephanie Powell muttered as she passed Joy’s locker.

  Joy rolled her eyes. The team statistician had been so snotty since they lost the State game. Just ignore her.

  She came back around until she was directly in front of Joy. “You can’t win them all, I guess. Apparently even when your team is counting on you the most.”

  What a jerk. Joy slammed her locker door and spun to walk away.

  Steph chuckled and muttered, “Melanie would never have …”

  Enough. “What was that? Got something you want to say to me?” Joy felt the rage boiling in her chest and extending out through the tips of her fingers. Must be what the Incredible Hulk felt like as his skin turned green and his clothes stretched then ripped.

  Steph inched away from Joy, her face white.

  “Just as I suspected. You’re nothing but a coward.” Joy jabbed a finger in her direction. “Keep your mouth shut around me. Understand?”

  That’s all it took to snap Steph out of her stupor. “Who do you think you are? You going to stop me?”

  “Gladly.” Joy threw her stack of books to the floor with a loud smack. She dove at Stephanie, yanking her by the hair.

  “Ow!” Stephanie yelped, fingers clawing at Joy’s hands. “Get your hands off me.”

  Joy gritted her teeth and threw Stephanie to the floor with a loud crash. The textbooks slid like dominoes from the impact.

  Steph’s eyes grew huge, and she stared at Joy like she was some kind of stranger.

  Maybe she was. Joy didn’t much care. She straddled Steph’s body and sat on her stomach then reared back a fist and prepared to let it fly.

  A strong hand grabbed Joy’s in midair. “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”

  Joy looked up to a pair of steely blue eyes. Oh great. Mr. Cavanaugh. “She started it!” Joy jerked her head toward Stephanie. The fact that Joy still sat atop Steph like a bull rider probably didn’t help her elicit sympathy from the teacher.

  “Physical violence is never the answer, nor allowed, no matter who provoked it. Come on. I’m taking you to the principal’s office.” Mr. Cavanaugh steered Joy down the hallway, directly into the empty office. “Have a seat. We’ll wait.”

  Joy crossed her arms and stared straight ahead, unblinking. What a joke.

  “What has become of you, Joy? You are so different. You used to be so happy. You were the life of the party, someone everyone could depend on for a kind word or a smile.” Mr. Cavanaugh looked at Joy, his eyes sad. “Now you’re …”—he gestured to her body—“always in black with the dark makeup. I don’t get it. Plus the things I’ve heard coming out of your mouth lately … such morbid things. Where is all this coming from? I get that grief has a powerful effect on people, but this is really extreme.”

  Joy looked down at her clothing. Was it all black? Hmm. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black Converse. She hadn’t made that change on purpose. Hadn’t even noticed it really. She shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know. I guess I’m sad. I guess I’m in mourning.” She turned a glare on him. “I mean, didn’t people used to wear black and cover mirrors and never smile while they mourned the loss of someone they loved? Don’t I deserve at least a little bit of time to get over the death of my best friend?”

  Mr. Cavanaugh nodded. “Well, sure. As long as that’s what it is. But something tells me it goes deeper.”

  You think? Joy slumped down in her seat. She just wanted silence while they waited for the judge and jury to enter the courtroom. Ridiculous. She was getting busted for something that wasn’t even her fault.

  The seconds ticked into minutes.

  Mrs. Crosby burst into the office, panting and fanning her pink cheeks. She sank into her desk chair and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. “I don’t know why I wear this shirt on days I know I’ll be back and forth across this school a thousand times. It’s too tight.”

  Well alrighty then.

  “Okay.” She exhaled and turned to Mr. Cavanagh. “What’s the deal? What happened?”

  “Well,” Mr. Cavanaugh said, “maybe we should let Miss Christianson tell the story.”

  Joy nodded and raised her chin. “Yeah, I’m all for it.” Finally, she’d have a chance to say her piece. Joy uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “You know, it’s tough. It’s really hard for me right now. People are picking on me for things and, you know, saying stuff to me that … I don’t know … I don’t even know how to explain it. But Stephanie pushed my last button. I had nothing left in me to restrain myself.” Joy clenched her fists. “It was all I could do not to choke her.”

  Mr. Cavanagh jerked his head back and looked at Mrs. Crosby, his eyes wide.

  Oh great. Now they were going to think she needed to be committed.

  Principal Crosby waited for Joy to say more.

  “You guys, I don’t mean literally choke her. I just mean I came unglued. I’m human, and a lot has gone on in my life. How about cutting me some slack?”

  Mrs. Crosby folded her hands under her chin and looked into Joy’s eyes. It took almost a full minute before anyone moved.

  How awkward. Joy tried not to blink or look away.

  Mrs. Crosby nodded. “Okay, I understand. But I have to address the fact you got physically violent with another student. You will be suspended for two days, which is minor compared to what could have happened.”

  “That’s cool.” Two days off. Sounded more like a reward than a punishment.

  “But because I’m reacting so minimally to your actions, I want you to meet with the guidance cou
nselor at least once a week for the foreseeable future, to talk about how you’re doing.”

  Oh great. More emoting.

  “Don’t see the counseling as punishment. It’s meant to help you.” Mrs. Crosby smiled like she was proud of herself.

  “Yeah, I can see that. I should tell you though, I’m already in counseling. Did you know I see a shrink every week already?”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I would hope so after all you’ve been through. I would really hope so. But here at school we need to make sure we’re dotting our i‘s and crossing our t‘s.”

  Right. Not about Joy at all. Just taking care of business.

  “There have been some changes in you we simply can’t ignore. Your personality, style”—she looked Joy over from head to toe—“demeanor, actions, self-control … mood … all of those things signal there’s something really deep going on.”

  Joy jumped from her chair, knocking it to the floor. She put her hands on Mrs. Crosby’s desk. “What? Did you really just say that? You think there might be something deeper going on?” Joy stared her down. “Why can’t you people just let me grieve in my own way instead of pressuring me so much to be this perfect person you think I’m supposed to be? Just back off.”

  Principal Crosby stood up. “The order for counseling stands. The two-day suspension stands, and I will be talking with your parents because they need to know what’s going on. I can’t ignore all of this. I hope you understand.”

  “Whatever. Am I excused?”

  “You’re excused, but I really want you to realize you dodged a bullet here today. If I hadn’t known you your entire life, you’d be facing some deep trouble for the way you acted in this school today.” Principal Crosby shook her head. “I’d like a little gratitude for the light punishment and some recognition we’re trying to work with you. Can you dig deep and find some?”

  If it were in there, Joy would have already brought it out. “I’ll do my best.”

  Whatever that meant.

  Chapter 8

  Joy’s damp hair clung to her neck in icy strips. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned, her dry lips cracking like they did when she snored with her mouth open most of the night. Lovely. She squinted to see in her dark room. It felt like morning, but where was the sun? Pulling her covers tight around her shoulders, Joy rolled to her stomach and parted the blinds at the window behind her head.

  Snowy mounds covered the bottom few inches of her garden-view bedroom, and judging by the sky, it had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Just what she needed. Now she could pull the covers back over her head and hide from the world all day long. No one would notice. With Mom and Dad already off for their day of Saturday real estate showings, Joy could probably make it for the next ten glorious hours without talking to a single living soul.

  Then again, a day stuck in the house was probably the last thing she should be hoping for. She threw the covers off her body. She had to do something. But what?

  Joy shivered as she slipped her arms into the fuzzy pink robe she’d gotten for Christmas the year before. When she’d first seen it, Melanie piped in with a Reese Witherspoon quote from Legally Blonde, “Whoever said orange is the new pink was seriously disturbed.” Indeed.

  No. Don’t go there. The movie quotes would start filtering through her consciousness. Then Joy would pull out the DVDs and pop one into the player. Probably something like Steel Magnolias. Ugh. The scene where Sally Field is at her daughter’s grave and her friends ask her how she’s holding up. “I want to know why! I want to know why Shelby’s life is over!” Sally had screamed with blood-curdling sounds of utter grief.

  Ten minutes of a movie like that, and it would be all over from there. A box of tissues and a frozen pizza would be the extent of her Saturday. Yeah. Joy needed to avoid spending her day embroiled in the fictional misery of others at all costs.

  Beatrice. Perfect. She’d go hang out with her sweet cousin. Joy fumbled on the nightstand for her cell phone. She touched the icon for messages and typed one to Aunt Sue.

  OK IF I COME HANG WITH B TODAY?

  The reply beeped within seconds. PLEASE. SHE’D LOVE IT.

  That settled that. GR8. GIMME AN HOUR. C U SOON.

  Now to let Mom know.

  GOING TO HANG OUT AT BEA’S. WANT ME TO PICK UP DINNER ON MY WAY HOME?

  Joy headed to the bathroom. Mom never replied right away, especially on a busy Saturday when, like all good Realtors, they usually had showings back to back all day anywhere between Ogallala and North Platte. At least Mom and Dad got to work together, their different personalities complementing their business. Mom loved paperwork, and Dad could sell diet pills in Ethiopia.

  After showering off the sweat from her rough night, Joy used her blow dryer and round brush to smooth her hair. She’d leave it long and straight so Beatrice could play beauty, as she called it.

  Joy stepped into her most holey jeans. One day the legs would fall right off of them. Until then they’d provide her the comfort, in more ways than one, she longed for. A black tee and her black North Face fleece over it, she was ready to go.

  The phone buzzed and vibrated on Joy’s desk. She glanced at the display to find a message from Mom.

  LET’S EAT AT HOKE’S. 6:00. IF YOU NEED $$ FOR THE DAY, THERE’S SOME IN THE DRAWER.

  Cool. One great part of having parents who worked so hard was their guilt made them way more free with their money than other teens’ parents. Little did they know, as much as Joy loved them, she didn’t mind the time alone. At all.

  Another text buzzed in. JOY? IT’S B-B. WHEN ARE YOU COMING?

  RIGHT NOW.

  “My Joy!” Beatrice grinned her lopsided smile as she jumped from the porch, loped to the driveway, and reached into the open car door to help Joy out by tugging on her arm. Oh, that smile brightened Joy’s day instantly. When Joy finally stood in front of her on the driveway, Bea threw her arms around Joy’s neck and squeezed.

  Beatrice wanted nothing from Joy except love and attention in return. Two things Joy was perfectly happy to provide. At least to Beatrice.

  “What are we going to do today, Joy?” Beatrice linked arms with her hero, her grin never wavering, as she pulled her toward the house.

  “I don’t know. What did you have in mind?” Joy was game for anything.

  Beatrice scrunched her face in confusion and tapped her chin. “Hmmm.”

  “Well, do you want to go somewhere, or do you want to stay home?”

  “I know one thing. I want to get a taco with extra sour cream.” She licked her lips.

  Joy should have seen that one coming. “No problem. We can get tacos for lunch.” Good thing she’d pocketed that twenty-dollar bill from Mom’s cash stash in the kitchen. “But what else?”

  Bea’s eyes brightened. “Can we go play checkers right now? I have a new one called Trapdoor Checkers. It’s so much fun. The pieces fall through the trapdoors.”

  Joy felt her heart rate slowing more and more the longer she was in Beatrice’s presence. God sure knew what He was doing when He gave the world her innocent heart. “Perfect. Let’s go.” Joy smiled and stuck her hand out.

  Beatrice grabbed Joy’s hand and practically bounced with excitement all the way to the front door. “I missed you so much.” She glanced behind her as she pulled, grinning.

  “I missed you, too.” Joy squeezed her cousin’s hand, embarrassed by her selfishness. She should have thought of Beatrice’s feelings during the past weeks. Of course it had been too long, and Bea simply didn’t understand what might have kept Joy away. She took it as a personal affront … assumed Joy didn’t want to be with her. The thought broke Joy’s heart in two.

  “What happened? Why didn’t you come see me for so long?” Beatrice’s lip poked out in a pout.

  Be honest. But not too honest. “Like we talked about the other day, I had some hard things happen, and I stayed at home being sad.”

  “I’m sorry you were sad. I heard my mom say o
n the phone that your friend died. I’m very sorry about that.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Bea had mastered the art of eavesdropping when no one thought she was paying attention or assumed she didn’t understand.

  “But I’m here now. I need to have some fun, so I’m just glad to be here with you. Let’s be happy and play some games, and then we’ll go get those tacos. If you win, you can have two.

  Deal?”

  Beatrice beamed. “Deal.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Beatrice pulled Joy to her bedroom, dragged her inside, and shut the door. She pressed her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s a surprise, okay?”

  “I’m not going to say a single word about your surprise.

  What is it?”

  Beatrice dove onto the floor and scrambled as she reached for something under her bed. “Got it.” She stood up and handed Joy the sheet of construction paper with crayons and stickers and glitter all over it.

  “Look, look.” Beatrice pointed a stubby finger at a stick figure kneeling by a bed. “That’s you praying. Look up here.” She pointed above Joy to what looked to be an angel, as evidenced by the halo and the wings.

  “This is great, Bea. But the angel looks mad. Why is she mad?”

  “It’s a he. Angels are boys. Turn the paper over and you’ll see why he’s mad.”

  On the flip side of the paper, Joy found a stick figure standing with her hands on her hips and a book on the floor. There were two devil-looking people standing behind her.

  “This is you. This is a demon, and this is a demon. Oh, and this is the Bible on the floor.”

  Joy flipped the page back over. So that’s what was going on in Bea’s mind. “So the angel’s mad because of the demons or because of the Bible on the floor?”

  “No, the angel is mad that you looked at the demons.” Beatrice shrugged.

  Joy stared at the paper. Was she worried because of her own fears, or did Beatrice truly have some special connection to the spirit world?

  Bea was a mind reader; that had to be it. Joy felt so exposed. “How did you think of this? What do you want to say to me with this picture?”