“Just like a Band-Aid.”
Chapter Nine
It felt like the longest day of my life.
And the most exhausting. I knew it would be difficult telling everyone what had happened to our parents, but I had no idea it would be like this. In a way, I should have known it wasn’t going to be a quick fix. After all, how long had it taken me to simply become coherent again after figuring out what had gone down at the Elm?
After my talk with Fallon, we’d gathered the Cleri members who’d been at the Elm and discussed what we were going to do next. I told them about the dream I’d had of Mom and shared my suspicions that the Parrishables were, indeed, back. Given the circumstances, they couldn’t argue with this fact and quickly agreed. But identifying our enemies didn’t help to make us feel any better.
“I know this is beyond painful, but we’ve got to be strong for the others,” I said quietly. I studied each of the five faces that sat around the table in my kitchen. “They’re going to be devastated and scared. Some are going to fall apart. But we have to pick them up. I think our lives depend on it.”
A few people nodded, others sniffled, still trying to get a handle on their emotions. Jasmine, who’d been so strong just a while before, had mascara lines running down her face. I doubted she’d cried in front of anyone else, but it was evidence that she was hurting just like the rest of us. Sascha, who was usually so bubbly, had clammed up and wasn’t talking to anyone, and Jinx had her arms wrapped around herself, like the action was the only thing keeping her from crawling out of her skin. Peter seemed to be in shock.
And me, I felt uncomfortable, sad, and helpless. I had no idea how to make any of them feel better, and we’d just agreed that I would be the one to tell the rest of the Cleri—which meant I was about to double the grief in the house.
Once we’d all pulled ourselves together the best we could, we joined the others in the living room. Some had no idea what was going on, while others started crying as soon as they saw us. I choked back my own tears, remembering that the more I held it together, the better off we’d all be.
Then I commenced to give them the worst news they’d probably ever get in their lives. It dawned on me that from here on out, whenever they thought about the day that their worlds came crashing down, they’d be reminded of me. It wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to be remembered. But it was too late to worry about that.
Taking Fallon’s advice, I told them quickly, sparing them the more graphic details; no reason to give them nightmares on top of their nightmares. They were going to have a difficult time sleeping as it was. I used my powers of persuasion to try to fill the atmosphere with soothing vibes, willing them to feel comfort and a sense of calm as I explained that our parents wouldn’t be coming home and neither would we—for a while at least.
“I know that this is hard to hear, but we’re all here for you,” I said softly. “We’re each other’s family now. And that means we watch after one another and have each other’s backs. I want you to know that I will take care of you. The next couple of days aren’t going to be easy and you might want to give up, but just remember, we can get through anything as long as we’re together.”
As I finished up my speech, I could already feel that my persuasion had managed to help at least a tiny bit. There was still that cloud of sadness hanging over all of us, but it could’ve been so much worse. I found a bit of solace in the fact that I could be helpful in even the smallest of ways.
In the end, I offered myself up to anyone who needed to talk. A few had questions I didn’t have the answers to. Why did this happen? What’s going to happen to us now? How long will we feel this way? All I could do was try to answer them honestly, but I worried that I was leaving them with more questions than before. Many people snuck off to separate sections of the house, wanting to deal with the news on their own and crying themselves to sleep.
By the time things began to die down, it was around one in the morning and I felt like I was sleepwalking. Covering up those who’d already passed out and giving blankets and pillows to the rest, we tried to get some sleep. But even after I returned to my bed and closed my eyes, my mind wouldn’t shut down.
I’d felt the weight of the coven on my shoulders as I’d stood before them earlier. They were all waiting for me to tell them what to do next. It was clear on their faces. And all I had was the next phase in our plan: to get everyone away from danger. Mom had said it in my dream, and I knew we had to disappear. Go somewhere the Parrishables couldn’t find us.
And I knew just where to take them.
I’d been in and out of sleep all night, and as soon as I saw the first rays of the sun coming out, I got up and started preparing for our departure. The more I’d thought about it, the more I’d realized just how dangerous it probably was for us to be at the house. Every minute that we stayed put us closer to the possibility of running into the same people who’d gone after our parents. And we weren’t ready to deal with that yet.
One by one, I woke everyone up and told them we were leaving. Three of us had licenses and we quickly divided everyone up into cars. With thirteen kids rounding out what was left of our coven, everyone had to keep an eye on each other. Peter was one of the youngest and I was the oldest, with ages ranging in between.
Between my powers of persuasion and the threat of the Parrishables fresh on everyone’s minds, we packed up everything we could fit in the cars—blankets, food, and anything else we might need—and were ready to go within a half hour of waking. I took as many of my clothes as I could, knowing that I could always change them later with a spell.
Once everyone was outside, I sat down on the couch and looked around the house that I’d lived in since birth. Even though I’d been home alone dozens of times, it had never felt so empty before. My eyes fell on a framed family picture sitting on a side table. It was from six years before, and I was positioned between my parents and we were all wearing white. We’d been at the beach on vacation that particular weekend, and my parents had forced me off the sand and into my sundress in order to take the photo. I had made it quite clear that I was very unhappy to be taken away from the surf and the new friends I’d made. Kicking and screaming as they carried me up the stairs to our beach house, they forced me into the shower and then pulled my dress over my head.
By the time they’d gotten me outside and seated on the wall that separated the boardwalk from the beach, I’d stopped fighting them. But it wasn’t because I’d tired myself out; when I was younger, I had lungs that would make any scream queen from a slasher flick jealous. No, it was because another plan was forming in my mind.
Since we were at the beach by ourselves my dad had to set the timer on the camera in order to take the picture. So he lined us up in the camera’s window and then pressed the button. Shuffling back to us, he slid into place on the other side of me. I was front and center now, staring straight into the camera lens.
When the warning light went off, letting us know the picture was about to be taken, I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. As soon as I heard the click, I let my face relax and turned back to my parents.
“Can I go back to my friends now?” I asked.
“Sure. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” my mom asked me as I ran off toward the house to change back into my swimsuit.
Before I made it to the door I heard my dad say, “That’s going to be the best family picture yet.”
I snickered as I thought about the surprise he’d get when he developed the film a few weeks later. My dad didn’t like to use digital cameras and insisted on taking our pictures old-school, which meant that there was no screen to review the images after taking them.
In a way, my dad was right. That picture turned out to be my favorite family portrait. And although they rolled their eyes every time they looked at it, I knew that it had eventually become their favorite too.
I think that was when my parents first realized that I had a mind of my own and would do just about anyt
hing to get my way.
A tear rolled down my cheek and fell onto my hand.
There would be no more family pictures. That realization nearly knocked the wind out of me, and I had to force myself to take deep breaths. I reached out and ran my thumb over my mom first and then my dad.
Dad.
I had no proof that he was alive or dead at this point. Part of me knew that if the Parrishables had managed to find the rest of the coven at a random warehouse, they’d probably be able to find him, too.
But just in case, I ripped out a piece of paper from my notebook and began to write.
Dear Dad,
I’m not sure if you’ll get this—in fact, I don’t know if anyone will ever read this—but just in case you are reading this, I want you to know that I’m okay. Some pretty messed-up things have happened since you left and . . . well, I had to leave. We all had to leave.
But you don’t have to worry about me. I have a plan. If you do get this and want to come looking for me, we’re going to the place where you first taught me how to ride my bike. I figure we’ll be safest there.
Speaking of safe . . . none of us are. I think you were right—they are back and out to get us all. But don’t worry, I remember what we talked about and will keep my promise.
Please be careful and know that I love you!
Love always,
Hadley
When I was finished writing the note, I folded it up until it fit in the palm of my hand. Then I went through the kitchen to the back door and stepped outside. My eyes landed on a rock sitting next to the door. It was painted yellow and green and read “Welcome” in big, bubbly letters. I’d decorated it when I was just six years old and my parents had refused to let me get rid of it.
Picking up the rock, I turned it over to the flat side and ran my fingers over the smooth, hard surface. Closing my eyes, I quickly said, “Hiddemus opendum.” As soon as I’d said it, a hole appeared where the bottom of the rock used to be. When I was younger, this was our family’s way of hiding our house key. But almost from the beginning, my dad had also taken to hiding little notes for me in there. He’d leave me funny jokes or inspirational messages. Sometimes he’d just say he loved me. It was sort of our special thing. I used to leave him notes too, but as I got older and then entered high school, I started to carry my own house key and the messages just kind of stopped.
Still, I had to believe that he’d find it if he was looking for it. If he came home at all. My eyes started to tear up again and I shoved the letter into the rock, sealing it back up with a spell before I had a chance to break down.
Placing the rock back in its spot, I shook my head and blinked back tears.
“Hadley! We’re ready to go,” Sascha called out from the front of the house.
I went inside and locked the back door behind me. “Coming!” I walked through the living room, picking up the picture frame along the way and hugging it to my chest.
Something to remind me of home, just in case I never make it back.
I threw my bags over my shoulder and then made my way outside to meet up with the rest of the coven. As I locked up, I turned to look around my neighborhood for what might be the last time. Everything about it felt comfortable to me. After seventeen years of playing hide-and-seek and games of tag, and eventually sneaking around and finding secret spots to kiss boys, I knew everything about this place. I could navigate these streets with my eyes closed.
I sighed and started to walk toward my car. Everyone was waiting for me and I climbed in and started the engine. As I pulled out of the driveway, I looked in my rearview mirror once more. And as I did so, I saw something I wasn’t expecting. Squinting to make out what it was, I saw the guy my dad and I had seen the last time we’d gone jogging. Even though I was more than twenty feet away by now, I could have sworn he was looking straight at me. I felt a momentary sadness that I wouldn’t get to learn more about him and then felt guilty over the selfishness of the thought. The boy cocked his head to the side as he watched us drive away and I let the image of him fade as I turned the corner and focused on the road in front of me.
Right now, the most important thing was getting everyone to the cabin safely. I could worry about boys with piercing eyes later.
Chapter Ten
It shouldn’t have taken us more than an hour and a half to drive up to the cabin, but between the three cars and thirteen people, we had to stop practically every twenty minutes for either food, gas, or bathroom breaks. I had no idea what small bladders everyone had until I was forced into a road trip with them.
It’s called holding it, people!
The one positive thing about the drive was that it allowed us all to leave the horror behind us to an extent. We began to think more about what we were heading to, instead of what we’d lost. Our parents weren’t far from our thoughts, but the trip was a good distraction for everyone.
By the time we arrived at our destination I was so happy that we wouldn’t be making any more stops that I nearly jumped out of the car before I’d even pulled the emergency brake, and kissed the dirty ground we’d been driving on. Of course, I didn’t actually do that—I mean, what sort of message would that send to the rest of the coven?
No one respects dirt kissers.
Instead, I rolled down the windows and took in the fresh air that came along with being at this altitude. And then I saw our refuge. The cabin was smaller than I remembered it. But that was to be expected, I suppose, since the last time I’d been there I was still a kid. And everything looks huge when you’re only four feet tall. Still, even though it wasn’t exactly the mansion I’d been picturing on our way up here, it wasn’t small by anyone’s standards. Good thing, too, because we were about to have a full house.
I pulled the car up to the garage but didn’t have the remote to open the door, so I parked right there, turning off the engine and enjoying the relative silence. I didn’t bother waiting for everyone else before getting out of the car, and threw my arms over my head to stretch after such a long and painful drive.
There were only so many road trip games a person could take before freaking out, and apparently I was horribly slow when it came to identifying VW bugs. That, coupled with the fact that I wasn’t exactly in a game-playing kind of mood, and I was pretty sure I would never be playing slug bug again.
But even that couldn’t spoil my mood now that I was here. The air was crisp, but not cold, and I felt like I could just breathe easier. Lord knows we were all going to need a little bit of fresh air over the next couple of days. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about my parents, as I looked around at the place where I’d spent most of my childhood summers.
Over to my right, just behind the garage, was the shed that one summer, I’d insisted was my own mini-cabin. I’d somehow managed to convince my parents to let me clean out the storage space (and by clean out, I mean that I took all my dad’s tools and piled them up in the garage next to the cars) and made the area into my own personal getaway. Armed with an old cot, my comforter and pillows, my entire stash of stuffed animals, a few picture frames, a stack of magazines, a handful of books, and my battery-operated CD player, I decorated my new place in true tweenage fashion.
I bragged for hours about how I was going to spend the rest of my summer in the practically windowless shed and how amazing it was to finally have a house all to myself. It didn’t even cross my mind that a place as small as that was nothing to be proud of. Yet after I officially moved in, I posted a sign that asked visitors to please “knock before entering” (which, let’s face it, just meant my parents) and then spent the next couple of hours listening to CDs, reading magazines, and lounging on my new bed.
As the lights outside began to dim and the shed got steadily darker, I got my first inkling that Operation Freedom might not be as perfect a plan as I’d thought. For one, at the rate the sun was setting, I’d be heading to bed a few hours earlier than my regular bedtime, simply because I didn’t have electricity in the she
d and hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight with me. And there was also the fact that I’d left my secret stash of Pop-Tarts and Funyuns up in my old room. Finally, when my bladder started to fill up, I knew that my fantasy of having my own place at the age of nine was over. No way was I peeing in the woods just to get a little privacy.
And so I’d thrown all my stuff into the middle of my comforter and dragged it back to the house. They never said it, but I think my parents had always known I’d end up back home, and that’s why they hadn’t fought me when I’d “moved out.” It used to annoy the hell out of me that they’d always seemed to be one step ahead of me.
Now I would have welcomed a fight with them if it meant having them around again.
My smile faded and I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my cashmere pants. I’d seen a model wearing them in Cosmo a few weeks back and thought they managed to look dressy while still being incredibly comfortable. Besides, they made my ass look great. Not that I was trying to impress anyone here. But I was a firm believer that dressing nice when you felt like crap did wonders for your self-esteem. As Blair Waldorf would say, “Just because you feel like shit, doesn’t mean you have to look like shit.”
“Hadley, your cabin is freaking incredible,” Sascha said, passing me and walking toward the summer home to get a closer look.
“Yeah,” added Fallon. “The place is a chick magnet.”
“You do realize that you’d have to get the girls to actually agree to go anywhere with you first, Fallon?” I asked.
He stopped scoping out the grounds long enough to look back and glare at me.
Whoops. So much for our cease-fire.
“It really is amazing,” Jinx said, talking just loudly enough for me to hear, which didn’t take much effort since she’d managed to sneak up behind me while I’d been daydreaming about my short-lived stint in the shed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” I agreed. Too bad everything in this place reminded me of my parents and the fact that I wouldn’t be making any more memories with them. My face fell as I fought the direction my mind was heading.
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