by E. Van Lowe
Mrs. Chambers had just ushered Erin in. They’d spent the morning at the zoo, one of Erin’s favorite places back then. But the zoo had been just an excuse to get her out of the house so her father and older brother, Bill, could get things ready for her tenth birthday party.
I remembered the party well, even the oaky smell of her father’s aftershave as he knelt next to me. He had pulled me up front with him and Bill so Erin would see me as soon as she came in—her best friend.
But this time it was different.
At first I didn’t know why, but then I saw it. Everyone looked exactly as they did back in 2006, everyone, that is, except for me, Matt, and Erin. We three were our nearly sixteen-year-old selves, Erin wearing the same black sweater over white top she’d worn the day of Matt’s funeral.
“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” she cried, a little girl’s voice coming out of a big girl’s body. She danced in a circle like she’d done all those years ago, and we all laughed and clapped.
“Thank you, Mommy,” she said, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders.
“Happy Birthday, Baby,” Mrs. Chambers replied, planting kisses on both Erin’s cheeks.
“Yeah, Happy Birthday, toad stool,” Bill called.
“Thank you, pig’s-butt breath,” she called back. They were always teasing each other.
“Erin!” Mrs. Chambers said in a chastising tone. “Watch your mouth. Just because it’s your birthday, don’t think I won’t give you a time-out.”
“Sorry,” she said with a big unapologetic grin.
Her father nudged me forward. “Go on,” he whispered
“Happy Birthday, Erin,” I said. My voice was normal. I held out the brightly wrapped package in my hand. I didn’t remember what was in the box, but I remembered I’d wrapped it myself, insisting my mother not help me.
Erin looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time, and all the joy drained from her face like salt through an egg-timer.
“Who invited you?” she asked, ignoring the gift, her voice turning little girl mean.
“Umm. I don’t know.”
Erin turned to her mother. “Mommy, she doesn’t belong here. She killed Matt.”
“No, I didn’t,” I protested. “Look. He’s right over there,” I added, pointing.
Matt was no longer standing by the table.
“Where?” she demanded, her head whipping from side to side, as her eyes scanned the room. “I don’t see him.”
“He, umm, must have gone to the bathroom.”
“Megan Barnett, you know good and well Matt’s not in the bathroom. Matt is in hell.”
There were snickers from a few of the boys present.
“That’s… that’s ridiculous,” I said, my voice rising into an upper register I only used when I was frightened. “And that’s a mean thing to say,” I added, trying to get indignant.
“But it’s true.” She took a single step toward me. “Matt is in hell. You know that; you sent him there,” she added pointing an accusing finger at me.
“Matt is in hell,” Mrs. Chambers said in a flat monotone. Her eyes had taken on a blank Stepford-like quality.
“Matt is in hell,” her father, standing next to me, repeated in the same monotone.
Each of the guests took up the refrain.
Matt is in hell… Matt is in hell... Matt is in hell...
The guests began closing in around me.
Matt is in hell… Matt is in hell... Matt is in hell...
“No, he isn’t,” I said, raising my voice. “He’s in the bathroom.”
The knot of party goers tightened around me. There was no escaping their dead eyes and the continuous refrain.
Matt is in hell.
Erin pushed her way through the crowd, getting nose-to-nose with me.
“And you’re going to join him,” she said. But she was no longer speaking in the little girl’s voices. It was the voice of a demon. Her breath smelled of sulfur. “They’re coming for you, Megan Barnett. The demons in hell are coming for you. You’ll be there with him soon enough.”
I sat up in bed, my eyes snapping open as if I’d been slapped in the face. It was a dream. Yes, of course it was. I knew I was dreaming while it was happening. But that didn’t stop the dream from scaring the hell out of me. I blew out the breath that I realized I’d been holding in.
I looked around the room, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My dreams were different from those of most people. Most people’s dreams were just that—dreams. With mine there was always a truth buried within. Sometimes it wasn’t buried. The last time I dreamt about Erin, she turned into a demon in the dream. Days later, a demon showed up in our garden.
I sat in the darkened room willing my heart rate back to normal. I had no idea what this current dream meant, but if it was anything like my former dreams, the trouble it suggested would be arriving soon.
Chapter Three
The heat spell broke during the night.
Monday morning when I arrived at school, as I was walking from the bus stop across campus, Guy’s white Mustang came into view circling the student parking lot. My heart fluttered even though I knew Guy wasn’t behind the wheel. Guy’s Mustang was being driven by Harrison, the twenty-one-year-old demon tracker Nephilim, who had at first hated me but then defended me so eloquently at the expulsion hearing.
I detoured into the parking lot when I saw him. It was a lovely morning, so I didn’t mind staying outside.
As I approached, the driver’s window went down. “Fer crikey’s sake, Megan! It’s as tight as a fat man in a bunny suit in this lot.”
“Ah,” I said, a smile spreading across my face. “Leave it to you to come up with a colorful phrase. What are you doing here?”
“Lookin’ fer a park.” The car was still slowly creeping through the crowded lot. I walked alongside.
“This is the student lot, Harrison, and you don’t go here.”
“Thank goodness fer that, cause if I did, I’d be late ta school every day.”
My smile blossomed into full blown laughter. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Lookin’ fer my favorite student. What else would I be doin’ here?” He pulled the car over, blocking in a small pick-up truck. Swinging open the door, he unfolded his lanky frame out of the car. “Are ya goin’ ta give us a hug, luv?” he asked, spreading his long arms wide.
I moved in and he enveloped me into a hug. Harrison had become like a big brother to me. Like any big brother, his watching over me came with a heavy dose of teasing. I didn’t mind. It felt good having Harrison in my life, although sometimes I got the feeling he was checking up on me for Guy. I’d never ask because I knew he’d never admit it.
Caution filled my eyes as I broke the hug. “Is there a demon in the area stalking me? Am I in danger?”
Inside the building, the first bell rang. If I continued the conversation, I’d be late to first period.
Harrison laughed. “Yer in danger of worryin’ too much,” he said with a teasing grin. “Can’t a friend stop by fer a reason aside from saving yer bloody life?”
I laughed. “Of course you can. I appreciate you stopping by, Harrison, but I have to get to class, so I can’t talk long.” I glanced at the main building where English was about to begin.
“Why don’t I meet ya after school then?”
“And you’re sure there’s nothing wrong?” My eyes narrowed as I ran a hand through my hair.
“Nothin’. Just want to run something by ya is all.” He shot me a disarming smile. Harrison was drop dead gorgeous, with chiseled features and brilliant hazel eyes. He had flowing blond hair worn in a ponytail. His muscled frame was draped in a fitted white shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trademark blood red jeans and scuffed black cowboy boots completed the outfit. Most girls would not complain about him waiting for them.
“Okay. Sure,” I said, wondering what he could possibly want to run by me.
I looked n
ervously back at the main building. The second bell was due to ring in a few minutes. I wasn’t curious enough to sit through detention.
“Gotta go.”
“Get outta here,” he said, noting the panic rising in my eyes. “I’ll be waitin’ fer ya after school. Maybe by then I’ll find a park.”
I laughed out loud as I sprinted off to class.
I was glad the semester was drawing to a close. Getting through it had been difficult after Guy’s departure, yet somehow I’d managed, getting mostly B’s and a few A’s. Sitting through class was always a struggle, but I’d managed to concentrate enough to get by, even though Guy’s presence was everywhere.
I got to English moments before the second bell. Maudrina was already in her seat. She hadn’t called all weekend, which I found odd. I knew when she and Curtis dropped me off, she had been dying to talk to me. Of course, I wasn’t going to call her. I didn’t want to talk about the incident at Splashtopia until I had time to process it.
As I passed Maudrina, moving to my seat, I noticed her eyes were bleary, as if she hadn’t slept in days—or she’d been crying. A stabbing pain jabbed into my heart. Did Curtis break up with her? Is that why she didn’t call? Just when I’d let my guard down about Curtis and begun to trust him, he dumped her.
“Hey,” I said sliding into my seat.
“Hey, there.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m not.”
Class began, so there was no time to continue the conversation. I don’t know what I would have said to her anyway. I couldn’t ask. That would be too forward. I had to let her tell me on her own. All I could do was be there for her, the same way she had always been there for me.
After class, we walked to our lockers to change out books. We avoided the minefield conversation of the past weekend. My minefield was Splashtopia, and hers had to be Curtis. Instead, we talked about the hot weather and what we had planned for the summer, carefully side-stepping what was on both our minds. As we approached the locker area, a group of girls led by Ashley Scott descended upon us.
“Are you all right?” Ashley asked, stepping in front of me. She infused each word with as much fake concern as possible.
“Sure,” I said. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
“You nearly drowned,” she said leaning in. “We all saw it.” The girls around her were now nodding. “We think you should sue.”
“What? Sue Splashtopia?” I started to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, until I saw the seriousness in their eyes.
“My father’s a lawyer,” Becky Geary piped in, stepping forward. “He said to give you his card.” She reached into a stylish Coach bag, pulled out a business card and handed it to me. I wished she’d handed me the bag instead.
The girls all stared at me expectantly, as if I were the speaker of the day ready to regale them with words of wisdom. “Umm, thanks,” I responded after a few dead air moments. I stashed the card in my purse without looking at it.
“What did your mother say when you told her?” asked Ashley. She fluttered her eyelids, an act to imply interest.
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, so I didn’t tell her.” My head was suddenly spinning, as images of the incident returned.
“You nearly drowned!” Ashley repeated, as if I were too dumb to realize it for myself.
“No… No, I didn’t. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed,” I needed to get my emotions under control, needed to stop my head from spinning. Visions of that idiot boy, Jack Parson, drifted in.
Guy was ai’ight. But he wasn’t all that.
As Ashley continued her harangue, a twinge of anger fired up in my belly, and with it came new thoughts, thoughts about Ashley Scott being a meddlesome pain in the butt who needed to be put in her place. And wouldn’t it be killer fun to tell the pain in the butt to butt out—pun intended—in front of all her friends? The look on her face would be freakin’ hysterical.
A small smile snaked its way to my lips.
Ashley saw the change in me and abruptly shut up. From the look of her, she was confused over the humorous expression that had found its way onto my face. All of a sudden, she shot a quick, knowing look to the girls. The look implied I was in denial. The girls all began nodding their heads as if in total agreement with her.
“That’s what I love about you, Megan. You’re so brave.” Ashley stepped even closer and gave me a lingering hug. Her hair smelled of verbena. Then each girl after her did the same. By the time the hugs were complete, I’d managed to get my emotions back under control. I couldn’t help but wonder where the anger in me was coming from, but I put those thoughts aside for the time being.
The bell for second period rang.
Ashley cast a concerned look in my direction. “You should really think about suing,” she said, before she and the girls moved away, heading off to class.
I turned to Maudrina: “Drama queen,” I said in a teasing sing-song. I moved to my locker, quickly changing out books and leaving the anger behind. “I’ve gotta get to class. See you at lunch?”
“We need to talk about that,” Maudrina said. She was eyeing me with concern.
“About what?”
“About what happened at Splashtopia.” And there it was; we’d been traipsing through a minefield of issues and one of them just exploded right in front of me.
“I know, but I’ve really gotta get to class now. Later,” I replied, hoping to put an end to any talk about Splashtopia. Something was happening to me. It was as if it were the start of allergy season and I had come down with a case of Angry-itis. I needed to understand it better before I was ready to talk about it.
“Sure. Later,” she replied.
I started away.
“Don’t you want a hug?” she called.
“A hug?”
“You know, like you get from your other friends.” A smirk was now playing on her lips.
“Funny.”
“Oh, Megan you’re so brave,” she said with sardonic flair. “You’re just about the bravest person in the whole wide world.”
I was glad to see the change in her attitude. Maybe Curtis didn’t break up with her after all.
“I gotta go. See you in the bleachers at lunch, if you can get your head out of your behind long enough to find your way there,” I said with a smirk of my own. I started away.
“You hug all your other friends, why not me?” she called as I retreated.
“Because you’re an idiot,” I called back amidst waves of laughter.
*
“Hey, Megan.”
I was half way to French class when I heard him behind me.
“Oh. Hi,” I said, without turning to look at him. I continued toward my room. Jack Parson caught up to me and bounced alongside.
“I would’ve gone in, too,” he said. I still wasn’t looking at him. He was in my French class, so I knew shaking him would be impossible, but I wasn’t going to look at him, hoping he’d get the message and move on. “I was going to come in and rescue you, but the lifeguards, they wouldn’t let me.”
“It’s okay,” I said, still not looking at him. We both knew what he was saying was a big fat lie. My emotions had just been through a workout, and I wasn’t looking for another, so I kept walking.
“Man, I almost got into a fight with one of em. Should’ve kicked his ass.”
“Oh, really?” I heard myself say. I wheeled around, stopping in front of him. The move was so sudden he nearly crashed into me.
It was as if another driver had grabbed the wheel of the Megan-mobile and suddenly taken control of my body. “You almost got into a fight because they wouldn’t let you rescue me?” My voice had taken on a taunting tone I’d never heard before. It was as if some other person’s rage was coming out of me.
“Well… Yeah… I couldn’t just leave you there.”
“You’re not pulling my leg, are you, Jack?” My voice lowered. I could feel a sneer pushing its way onto my lips. “I
could have sworn I saw you backing away.”
“No, I wasn’t backing up. I was makin’ room for the lifeguards. I mean… they’re professionals, right?” My new No More Mister Nice Guy attitude had thrown him. He took a step back.
The attitude had caught me off guard as well. It was then I noticed the gentle breeze at my back, as students in the hall sensed an argument brewing between us and began nudging each other.
“Didn’t I see a wet spot on your trunks?” The sneer on my lips twisted into an evil grin.
What’s happening to me?
“A wha… A wet spot?” His eyes widened, and he was looking at me as though he was trying to make sure he was talking to the right person. This mad woman standing before him with a smirk on her lips could not be the Megan Barnett from French class.
My voice grew low and conspiratorial. “Yeah, you know, like maybe you got so scared you let loose just a little.”
A few random snickers erupted in Jack’s direction.
“’Course not!” He staggered back another short step, as if he’d been sucker punched. “We were at a pool, dumbass! My shorts were wet from the water.”
Despite knowing he was performing for the gathering crowd, spires of anger began radiating through me.
The breeze increased.
It was as if a summer wind had sprung up right there in the corridor. No one seemed to notice. Aside from the students agitating for a fight, the rest of my classmates went about their business, as if breezes sprang up in the corridors of G.U. all the time.
I noticed it. But maybe that’s because I was the one causing it.
“I gotta go,” I said, suddenly pushing past Jack, heading back in the direction I’d come.
“Where ya goin’? Class is the other way,” Jack called. The infernal bravado was back. The idiot thought he’d won. He thought he’d run me off.
“I left something in my last period,” I called over my shoulder as I quickly retreated. I needed to get out of that corridor and take my anger and the breeze with me.