“What’s that on your shoe?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Vanessa tries to move her foot to the floor, but I’m too quick for her—I grab her loafer and pull it off.
“Ow, Jesus,” she says. “Break my ankle, why don’t you?”
I turn her shoe over. On the sole, written in block letters, is the line: Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
“Shakespeare?”
“Romeo and Juliet.” She snatches her shoe back and slides it on. “Grayson wrote it. It’s totally corny, I know. He’s totally corny. And ridiculously immature. I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Vanessa, it’s okay that you like him. It’s more than okay,” I say, leaning down to stuff my half-eaten sandwich into my bag. “I think it’s great.”
And I do think it’s great. Just because my love life is in the crapper doesn’t mean that I want hers to be.
When she doesn’t respond, I turn to look at her. My stomach drops. Her face is pale, wiped of expression. She’s like a wax figure, an empty shell.
“Vanessa?” I wave my hand in front of her face, but she doesn’t even blink. “Vanessa!” I shake her arm, and she startles.
“Huh?”
“Are you all right?”
“Sorry,” she says. She rubs her eyes. “Must have spaced out for a second.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“So Grayson really wants me to go to this basketball game on Friday night,” she says. “You and Spencer have to come with us. How’d your date go, by the way?”
Um, what? She doesn’t remember that I just told her that Spencer and I aren’t together?
Okay, don’t panic. Just because she checked out for a minute doesn’t mean that she’s possessed. I haven’t noticed any other signs—she doesn’t smell, she doesn’t have red eyes, her voice sounds normal. She’s not ticking any of the boxes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” Vanessa glances down at her half-eaten bagel, and her brow furrows in confusion. “Oh my God, I’m going to kill Izzy,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “She’s not going to think eating half of my sandwich is such a funny joke when I get home.”
I frown. She doesn’t remember eating the first half of her sandwich?
Maybe I should give her a good squirt of holy water, just to be on the safe side. But the bell rings as I’m reaching into my bag for my spray bottle. By the time I’ve pulled it out, she’s already out of the car.
“Crap. I can’t be late for my history test,” she says.
I relax a little. She remembers that she has a history test. That’s good. She’s fine. Clearly I just have demons on the brain.
Since I have a free period, I’m in no rush to get back into the school, where I might run into Spencer. I hang out in my car, playing the mobile version of Demon Souls, the super-addictive demon war game I played at Shane’s house, until my next class is about to start.
I lock the car and walk toward the school. I’m the only one in the parking lot besides a woman wearing a ratty old trench coat and a plastic bag on her head who’s lurking near the recycling bin. At first, I think she’s waiting for me to leave so she can dig through the bin for bottles to return, but just as I’m passing by her, she glances at me, and the world tilts.
It’s my mom.
Standing right in front of me.
Wearing a plastic bag on her head.
I’m so stunned, I just stare at her. My chest tightens. And then I burst into tears, because Mark was totally lying. She is definitely not okay. Besides the makeshift rain bonnet, her clothes are supergrungy, and I can tell from her sunken cheeks that she hasn’t been eating enough.
This is so much worse than I imagined.
I don’t think about the danger or about all the warnings Uncle Roy has given me against approaching demons. Or about how my mom is a portal and if I touch her, I could end up possessed. All I see is my mom. I take a step toward her. I want to hug her, to let her know that it’s going to be all right. That we’re going to fix her. The fact that she’s here, that she found me, must mean that she’s still inside there somewhere. I know that she remembers me.
But then our eyes meet, and I stop in my tracks. For a second, my mom’s face remains blank. And then she smiles, a smile so terrible, so full of evil, that it makes my blood freeze. Her hands fly up and start to claw at her cheeks. She shakes her head back and forth like a dog, like she’s trying to shake off the demon inside of her.
As suddenly as she started, she stops shaking and goes completely still. She looks at me, her expression filled with enough sadness to break my heart. “Shelby.” Her voice is pure anguish, but it’s my mom’s voice, not the voice of a demon, and I can’t help it—I take another step toward her. Her eyes darken, and I know I’m losing her again. “Don’t follow me,” she says, starting to growl. I’m full on ugly-crying as she turns and runs away from me, taking off toward the trail that runs behind the school.
Calm down. Breaking down isn’t going to help her. I take a deep, shuddering breath. I should call someone. Uncle Roy. Or Mark. I shouldn’t attempt to exorcise her on my own. It’s dangerous. I know this, but I reach into my bag for my crucifix anyway.
Neither of them believes I can do it, but neither of them is here. I am. I can’t let her get away.
But as I start to run after her, I spot someone walking out of the trees.
My fingers tighten on the crucifix. It’s Shane. He’s wearing headphones and his head is down, so he doesn’t notice my mom charging toward him until she’s almost right in front of him.
“Shane, get out of the way!” I yell as I sprint toward them, but he’s frozen to the spot, his eyes wide with terror. My mom knocks him over like a bowling pin. There’s a spark of red light as her shoulder connects with his. Shane falls to the ground and curls into the fetal position, his hands over his head, as my mom disappears into the trees.
I want to follow her, but I’m not sure I should leave Shane like this. That spark of red light can only mean one thing.
I chew my bottom lip. I’m so close to getting my mom back, but Shane is lying on the ground, totally dazed, and argh, I can’t just leave him. My mom would want me to help him. And so as she disappears into the trees, I drop my bag and crouch down in front of him, careful not to get too close.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I feel kind of funny,” he says. His face is pale and his blue eyes are starting to darken, the whites disappearing as his pupils expand.
Awesome. Uncle Roy claimed that my mom had to touch someone for a few minutes in order for a demon to pass through her. But this portal is obviously even more powerful than he suspected.
“Hold still for a minute.” I press my crucifix against Shane’s bare arm and feel the metal heat up. His skin doesn’t burn, though, so I guess the demon hasn’t been in him long enough to really make itself at home.
I say the incantation, and Shane’s eyes quickly return to their normal color. He tries to sit up, but he’s kind of out of it, so I gently push him back down. I’m about to reach into my bag for my holy water so I can finish this off when a hand shoots forward from behind me, holding out the spray bottle.
Chapter
21
I WHIP AROUND. Spencer is standing behind me. He gives me a small smile, but I don’t smile back, although it takes everything in me not to. My heart doesn’t seem to realize I’m still mad at him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, snatching my spray bottle from him.
Spencer turns his phone so I can see the map on his screen, zoomed in on the grounds at St. Joseph’s. A small cartoon devil hovers over the parking lot. “Remember that demon-detecting app Lucas created?” he asks. “I got a notification right as class started that there was a presence somewhere nearby. When I didn’t see you in geography, I figured it was worth investigating. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
My anger at him loosens a little. It’s sweet that he wanted t
o see if I was all right, but one nice gesture doesn’t make up for the fact that he knew what was going on with my mom for months and never told me.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask him as I squirt Shane on the leg with the holy water. No steam rises off his skin, so it seems that I’ve finally managed to exorcise a demon. Of course, Shane was barely possessed and didn’t put up any kind of fight, so I’m not even sure this counts.
“Long enough to see what happened,” Spencer replies.
I turn around and glare at him. “Then why didn’t you help me?” If he’d stepped in, maybe we could have prevented my mom from running off.
“Because I’m not an exorcist, Shelby,” Spencer says. “I can’t do it. I’m never going to do it again.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, I would have only made it worse.”
“It can’t be any worse,” I say. My mom is gone, and who knows if we’ll ever find her again. Maybe this was my one chance.
“That’s not true,” he says. “When I saw what was going on, I called Mark. He’s on his way here right now.”
Shane slowly sits up. “Hold up,” he says, staring at me. His dark hair is flattened on one side, and he has a blade of grass stuck to his face. “You’re an exorcist?”
I nod.
“And my mom made you come over that day because she thought I was possessed?”
“Yeah.”
He snorts. “Typical.” Shane tries to stand, but his legs are wobbly and he falls and lands hard on his butt. “Ow, shit,” he says.
Spencer leans down to help him to his feet. “We should probably take you home.”
“You take him.” I stuff my crucifix and spray bottle back into my bag. “I’m going to wait here for Mark.”
Spencer sighs. “Shelby, please just let him handle this,” he says. “Mark mentioned that he was going to swing by and pick up Father Roy. The two of them will have it covered. Let them take care of your mom.”
“In other words, I should stay out of their way,” I say.
“It’s probably for the best.”
I know he’s right—my mom couldn’t be in better hands—but still, the thought of just sitting around while they look for her kills me.
“Fine,” I say begrudgingly.
“Wait, that lady was your mom?” Shane asks, his eyes widening.
“Yeah.”
The horrified expression on his face actually makes me laugh. I get to my feet, and we walk across the parking lot. It’s a miracle that no one has seen us, and we’re able to get into Uncle Roy’s car and away from the school without interference.
“Blech, what’s that smell?” Shane asks, rolling down his window.
“Oh. It’s tuna,” I say. “Blame Vanessa.”
It’s only a short drive to Shane’s house. I wait in the car while Spencer guides Shane inside, concentrating on slowing my breathing. Spencer slowly walks back toward the car, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and I’m pretty sure we’re about to have “a conversation.”
And sure enough, as soon as he climbs into the passenger seat, he says, “I know I haven’t handled any of this very well.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Believe it or not, I was planning to tell you everything.”
I back out of Shane’s driveway. “Seems like being trapped on a Ferris wheel with a demon might have been the perfect opportunity.” Instead of letting me feel like a freak.
He blows out a long breath of air. “In retrospect, yes. But, in my defense, I wasn’t thinking straight. If you recall, I was barely holding it together that night.” His face flushes. “When I realized you were an exorcist, I panicked. I felt like an idiot because I’d spent two months getting to know you and I never picked up on it,” he says. “And I knew that if I told you about my family, you’d automatically assume that I was only hanging out with you to get information on your mom—”
“Which you were.”
He grimaces. “Yes, but that wasn’t…” He glances out the window before looking back at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
My heart starts to pound painfully. He kept the fact that he knew my mom was possessed from me for months. He wants to be my friend? He needs to trust me enough to tell me what happened to make him turn away from exorcism.
“Who’s Josh?” I ask.
When Spencer doesn’t immediately respond, I think he’s going to shut down, shut me out again, but he surprises me. “Riley’s brother,” he says. “I never should have tried to handle him on my own. I knew better. Rule number one: Always work in pairs.”
“What happened?”
He leans his head against the back of the seat. “Mark had just started dating Riley. I didn’t know Josh well; I’d only met him a couple of times. One night I saw him at a party. He was acting really weird, but I figured he was probably on something. Then I saw his eyes, and … well. It was clear that drugs were not the problem,” he says. “Instead of calling Mark and waiting for him to get there so we could exorcise him together, I got cocky. I figured I didn’t need Mark; I could do it myself.”
I think about Ms. C and how I tried to handle her by myself. And how much worse it could have been if I hadn’t called Uncle Roy.
“It didn’t work. Obviously. Josh crashed through the second-floor window in the bedroom I’d taken him to. He took off, and, long story short, no one has seen him since,” he says. “That was more than a year ago.”
My stomach tightens. I know exactly how it feels to worry about someone, to not know where they are. It must be even worse for Spencer, who’s weighted down by guilt. Just like Uncle Roy.
“It’s better for everyone if I stick to protection charms,” he says. “At least I know I can do that properly.”
We should probably talk about this in more depth, but we’re already back at the school. I pull up beside Spencer’s car.
“So why do you do it?” he asks me.
“At first, it was only because Uncle Roy believed I would be good at it,” I say, slowly. “But now … I don’t know. I think maybe I could be good at it.” If Uncle Roy would continue to train me, I might even be great at it. “It doesn’t matter, though, because, what happened with Shane aside, I don’t think I’m going to do it anymore.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. Now I’m the one blocking Spencer out. But I don’t think I can tell him that Uncle Roy no longer believes in me without crying. He spent a lot of time and effort training me, and he was right: I didn’t take it seriously. I blew him off, like it wasn’t important—like he wasn’t important.
I owe him an apology. And if Uncle Roy decides never to train me again, well, I guess I’ll have to live with that.
“If you don’t want to go to class, I could come home with you,” Spencer says. “Keep you company.”
I appreciate the offer, but I’m still shaken from seeing my mom and I just want to be alone. Also, my feelings for Spencer are all mixed up and until I work them out, hanging out with him one-on-one is probably not the best idea.
“I’ll be fine,” I say.
He gives me a sad smile. I watch him climb out of the car, wishing that everything between us weren’t so complicated.
* * *
At home, I grab a legal pad from the rectory and then head to the screened-in porch. I need to do something to keep busy, so I might as well get a head start on writing the report.
Yes. I am so desperate for something to keep me busy that I’m doing paperwork.
Case Number: EX104-17-3841
Incident: The Exorcism of Robin Black
Exorcist: Who knows
At around 1200 hours on May 29, I was eating lunch in my car (well, in Father Roy’s car) in the St. Joseph’s school parking lot. (Note to Father Roy: I realize I broke one of your cardinal rules—eating in your precious Honda—but I want to report everything as accurately and honestly as possible, even if that means putting myself in front of the oncoming train of your wrath. Also, if your car still stinks, it’s because Vanessa
had tuna fish.) I first noticed a woman lurking around the recycling bins when I was walking back into the school. When I got closer, I realized it was my mother, Robin Black. The reason I didn’t recognize her at first was because she was wearing a plastic bag on her head, which is something she would never do if she weren’t possessed.
I close my eyes. I want to believe that when Uncle Roy comes home, he’ll have my mom with him. But just thinking about how she looked when I saw her and the tight grip that demon had on her makes me feel so hopeless.
I start to bawl. I cry until my eyes ache, and then I fall asleep, my head resting awkwardly against the back of the chair.
And when I wake up, hours later, it’s dark outside and someone is banging on the front door.
Chapter
22
I WALK down the hall, still half-asleep. I flick on the porch light, and I see Vanessa through the little rectangular glass panels set into the door. She jiggles the door handle impatiently.
“Just a second,” I say. I’m surprised to see her, because she never drops by unannounced. She’s too afraid she’ll run into Uncle Roy.
As soon as I get the door open, Vanessa lurches toward me. She’s still wearing her school uniform, along with a pair of turquoise aviator sunglasses. Her hair is a tangled mess.
“Let me guess.… You were out with Grayson. Were you guys rolling around in a field or something?” I say, picking a leaf out of her bangs.
As a response, Vanessa lets out a monster belch, so big and thunderous that it practically blows my hair back. The smell of beer emanates off her, so strong that I have to hold my nose.
Great, she’s drunk. I guess that’s why she came here instead of going home.
“All right, so that was seriously gross,” I say. “What is up with you lately?”
She doesn’t answer; she just gives me a weird, lopsided smile. She pushes past me, kicking off her black loafers, and stumble-walks down the hall toward my room, making retching noises.
“Vanessa, please please please don’t throw up in my room,” I say, darting into the kitchen to grab a blue bucket from under the sink. If Uncle Roy shows up to find her drunk, he will for sure tell her parents and they will kill her and that will be the end of my only friend in the world.
When Life Gives You Demons Page 13