I made up my mind not to use her personal problems against her in anger. I’d never stoop that low. Mrs. Piper said self-control was a gift, one I already possessed and needed to use.
A few employees ambled through the empty foyer. I rested my eyes as rain pelted the window. Were Mom and Pam waiting in the parking lot? Maybe I could borrow a phone and find out.
I opened my eyes just as Bianca and Lenni swung into view, sporting identical Dizzy t-shirts. Spotting me, Lenni quickened her pace. I swung my feet to the floor.
“We got you something.” Her words echoed through the vacant lobby. She unrolled a large poster across her body. “Ta-da! Do you love it? I thought it might make up for…everything.” She peeked around Dizzy’s picture, her eyes hopeful. “The new one, Dizzy’s Epidemic. You can add it to the collection on your wall.”
I gazed at it, my spirits lifting.
“See, Dizzy signed it for you, down on the corner.” She tapped the poster.
“Where?” I squinted at the red and black smear.
“Right here.” She tapped again. “Bianca accidentally spilled her raspberry soda on it, but she caught it before ruining the whole thing. She felt bad about it. We wiped off what we could.”
I looked closer at the splotch. I could almost make out part of my name.
The broken rubber band inside my mind quivered, loose ends itching my brain. Chicken pox without a diversion.
I stood, snatched the poster from Lenni and ripped it in two.
“No! Molly, why?”
I tore it crossways again, and again, and then threw the pieces into the air, scattering them on the tile.
Lenni’s lip trembled. Bianca’s twitched into a smirk.
“Hey! You’re gonna clean that up,” a man with a push broom yelled from the far end of the lobby. Lenni scrambled to her knees, picking up scraps of Dizzy, her tears wetting the floor. I glanced down at her, ignoring pangs of guilt.
Bianca stared at me, smug, tongue working inside her cheek.
I pointed my finger like an old woman chasing children from the flowerbed. “You’re no witch. You’re not even a witcha’be! Crazy, that is what you are. Insane, like your mother, over in Sugar Creek Manor!”
Bianca’s smirk fell, her bottom lip catching between her teeth. Her wide eyes swept the lobby. Muscles quivered under the pallid skin of her throat. The shattered expression looked foreign on her porcelain features. I relished it.
“What’s going on?” Lenni looked as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She pressed her paper-filled hands to her abdomen and gazed at Bianca from the floor. “What is she talking about? Did your mom come back from the mountains?” The corners of her mouth pulled down. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d love to meet h—”
“Wake up, Lenni. Bianca’s mother is not a witch living in New Mexico.” I turned to Bianca. “Tell her how you’ve been lying to her all these years. Convincing her that you are some kind of stupid witch-in-training, when your mother is really in Hopeford.”
Bianca looked at Lenni for a split-second then through the large window. She blinked, her eyes lucid.
“Is that true?” Lenni asked, dropping the shredded poster as she rose to her feet.
“I said, pick that up!” The custodian’s abandoned broom clacked to the floor as he bustled toward us.
Bianca bounded to the door.
Lenni and I darted after her, fliers sailing to the floor as we rushed by the display tables.
“You’d better run!” the custodian yelled. “Disrespectful little witches.”
We followed Bianca through the doors, into the damp air. Lightning lit the sky then faded, erasing the glow of streetlights. I threw my gaze around the dark lot, searching for Pam’s car. Bianca seemed more antelope than witch, her silhouette disappearing then reappearing several spaces away with each passing headlight beam.
“Where’s she going?” I asked breathlessly as we ran.
“I don’t know!” Lenni cried, her voice sounding panicked.
The streetlights flickered, recovering from the flash of lightning.
“Bianca, watch out!” Lenni screamed. The squeal of brakes split my ears. My blood ran cold as I struggled to catch up.
Oh, God, no! God…please…
Bianca’s knees pressed against the bumper of the car, hands splayed on the hood. Lenni threw her arms around her, crying into her hair while Bianca stood like stone, trapped in the headlights’ beam.
I slowed my jog as the doors opened, releasing Pam’s shrieks and Mom’s sobs. They lunged at Bianca, pawing her hair, patting her cheeks, murmuring how lucky she was, and how sorry they were.
“Oh, this is all my fault!” Pam lamented. “The movie ran longer than we expected. We didn’t realize it until we left the theater. I tried to call all three of you, I even left messages.” Pam took Bianca’s face into her hands and gazed in her staring eyes. “Bianca, are you okay? Do you need to go to the ER?”
“I’m fine.” She straightened her Dizzy shirt and smoothed her wet hair. “I’d like to get out of the rain.”
“Alright, sweetie.” Pam let out a sigh. “She’s okay.” She led Bianca around the car and opened the door.
“Thank goodness,” Mom breathed, holding her face up to the rain.
“C’mon, Molly, let’s go home,” Lenni said. “I’m sorry about the phones. We turned them off before the show. Then me and Bianca forgot to turn ours on after we left the backstage party,” Lenni said as we slid into the backseat.
“Backstage?” Pam said.
“Insane, right? Mom, you wouldn’t believe it. We got to meet Dizzy and the whole band! They were so nice, like regular…” Lenni glanced at me and lowered her head. “It was alright, I guess.”
“Sounds like it was more than alright.” My mom turned around in her seat. “What’d you think, Molly?”
I didn’t answer. My gaze flickered to Bianca, head back, eyes closed, red hair coiled around her face and shoulders.
Out tumbled a mass of long red hair. The little girl from my dream. I squeezed my eyes shut and reopened them, trying to clear her from my mind.
Mom cocked her head, waiting.
No need to spill my guts and make a horrible situation worse—if that was even possible. Between Bianca’s stealing my ticket and me spewing out her whole life story, the night was just a big disappointing blur I wanted to forget. “Really, Mom, as if backstage wouldn’t be cool?”
Lenni sucked in a sharp breath.
“Cool still means good, right?”
“Right, Mom.” I closed my eyes.
The heater blasted, nauseating me and making me sleepy at the same time. Heavy. Weighed down by wet clothing and a guilty conscience. I dreaded the miserable, hour-long drive home.
“Girls, we’re pulling into Redbend.” Mom roused us.
“Bianca, do you want to sleep over tonight?” Pam asked.
“No, thanks. Take me home, please.”
“Stay the night. We need to talk about everything,” Lenni said quietly.
“I’m going home.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Doubtful.”
I peeked over. Lenni gazed, misty-eyed, at Bianca, who stared straight ahead.
“Here you are, dear.” Pam stopped in front of Bianca’s crooked little house.
“Thanks.”
Lenni slid from the car, eyes filled with tears. Bianca brushed past without a word. Lenni scooted back into the seat, crying quietly.
Moonlight illuminated Bianca as she trudged over the cracked walkway. A week ago, she’d plucked my hair in the hall.
She seemed smaller now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
My phone vibrated on the nightstand. I opened Lenni’s message and tossed my feet over the bed, rolling Boo to the floor.
Come over, quick!
I threw on whatever my fingers found first, tucked my phone in my pocket, and then jogged downstairs.
“Where you headed, Mol?�
�� Dad asked, polishing his bowling ball while watching his favorite mechanic program on TV.
“I’ve got to run over to Lenni’s. She needs something. Where’s Mom?”
“She’s not feeling well this morning. Too much fun and excitement last night, I guess.”
Porch witch was less intimidating without her hat. The cool air chill-bumped my legs, tingling my toes as I jogged down the steps. My phone buzzed.
Hurry!
I quickened my pace.
Lenni stood on her porch, wringing her hands.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, jogging up the steps.
“Oh, Molly.” Her lip trembled. “It’s terrible!”
My heart froze. “What happened?” I gripped her shoulders, searching her watery eyes. “Where are your parents?”
“On their way to Brenda’s wedding.”
I led her to the porch swing and sat down beside her.
“Bianca’s furious with me.” She sobbed. “I called her this morning, to see if she wanted to come over and talk. She said she wouldn’t be talking to me ever again. She thinks you’ve turned me against her.”
“She’s not mad at you, she’s mad at me. She’s embarrassed because the truth came out about her past.” I rubbed a hand over Lenni’s hitching back. “It’ll be okay. This will all blow over.” I couldn’t believe I was consoling Lenni about Bianca.
“That’s not the worst part,” Lenni cried, wiping her nose on the underside of her shirt. “Come here, I’ll show you.” She rose from the swing and took my hand, guiding me through the house. She opened the French doors and pointed to the lush backyard. I followed her finger with my gaze. A large hole yawned in the grass beneath the oak tree. Tossed to the side was the sacred bloodberry bush, red dirt clinging to its exposed roots.
“When did she do this?”
“Must’ve been early. I walked to the patio while we were talking—I mean while she was shouting—on the phone, and that’s when I saw it.”
“The ground is still moist from the rain. We can replant it. Does your dad have a shovel?”
“No.”
“We’ll use one of my dad’s. I’ll run back home and grab one.” I squeezed her hand before turning to go.
“No. Dad has a shovel, but I won’t use it. I don’t want to replant the bush. The meaning is lost now, the memory’s ruined. It’ll never be the same.” She knelt beside the bush, touching the beautiful blooming flowers, the ugly knotted roots. She plucked a crimson berry from a branch and crushed it in her fingers, staining them red.
“Just give her some time, Lenni. Everything will be alright.”
“It’s over. The bloodberry bush is dead, just like the friendship between me and Bianca. I should’ve seen it from the beginning. You tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen.” Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” She threw her arms around my neck and sobbed.
Finally, I’d gotten what I wanted. Lenni was seeing Bianca as the lying, scheming, manipulator she really was. Somehow, the fruit of reckoning wasn’t sweet like I’d imagined. It tasted bitter.
We walked through the French doors into the house.
“Why don’t you stay over tonight? I want to go to church in the morning and I’d like you to come with me,” I said.
“I usually only go to church on holidays.”
“Well, let’s pretend tomorrow’s a holiday.” I nudged her shoulder.
She sighed. “What’ll I wear?”
“C’mon, Len, you have the holiest jeans in town.”
“You dork. Okay, I’ll come.”
We stepped into the kitchen. “Do you have a Bible? It’s okay if you don’t. You can borrow one at church.”
“Yeah, I think we’ve got one.” Lenni stopped in front of the large pantry and thumbed through a shelf of cookbooks. She slid a leather Bible from between the other books and wiped the grease-freckled cover.
I smiled and bumped her with my hip. “Let’s get your stuff. Do you need to call your mom and tell her you’re staying?”
“I’ll text her.”
We climbed the stairs. Lenni showered while I sat on her bed, eying the green bottle we’d spun the night I’d learned about Sam. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I crossed the room and glanced through her nail polish caddy. The slot for Sensuous Skin remained empty. I wondered what Bianca did with the doll after she took it from my bag. Not that it mattered now.
“I’m ready.” Lenni stepped through the door, model perfect, wearing a mauve t-shirt covered with silver butterflies and jeans covered with holes. Her still-wet hair glistened in a loose knot on top of her head. She buckled on a pair of silver sandals and tossed the Bible in her backpack.
“Let’s go,” she said, turning off the light. I followed her into the hallway.
“Are you sure your mom doesn’t mind me staying?” Lenni asked on the way down.
“I’m sure. She loves you. But I do have to warn you, she’s been a little moody lately.”
“Like, in a bad mood?” Lenni sounded apprehensive.
“No. Emotional. Weepy.”
“Your mom, weepy? I can’t imagine.” Lenni punched a code into the alarm’s keypad then shut the heavy front door.
“I know, it’s weird. She’s been sick a lot, too, especially in the mornings.”
“Maybe she’s not eating right.”
“She’s eating a lot of cabbage. Before, she couldn’t stand the stuff. Wonder if she’s allergic to it?”
Lenni stopped walking. “Molly, is your mom pregnant?” She looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“What? That’s crazy. She’s, like, forty-something years old.”
Lenni shrugged.
She was right. Of course, Mom was pregnant. It made perfect sense. The morning sickness, moodiness, sudden craving for cabbage. And Lenni—normally oblivious to the obvious—figured it out. Just like that.
“Do you really think so?” I asked, already convinced.
“Sure sounds like it.”
I recalled the dress she’d worn last night, too loose to show a bulge.
“You know, I never really noticed this church until you mentioned it last week,” Lenni said as we walked by Cornerstone.
“The youth center is around back, in the huge add-on. Mrs. Piper’s father, Mr. Cecil, is the bus driver. He took me home Wednesday night. We talked while he dropped everybody off around Redbend and Old Town.”
“Old Town?” Lenni asked, her brow furrowed.
“Yeah, several kids from the youth group live there—a set of twins, Kim, the amazing singer, and Derek.”
“Really? Wow. I thought just uppity kids went to church youth groups.”
“Uppity kids, like you?” I swayed into her, making her stumble.
“Quit. You know what I mean. Cliquey-kids.”
“It’s not like that. I really think you’ll like it. Tomorrow morning you’ll meet everyone. Maybe you can come back Wednesday night.”
“Can’t. The play, remember?”
I’d forgotten.
“It’s okay if you skip opening night. I’m not all that excited anymore,” she said.
I looked up at my house and tried to picture a baby living there. Porch witch sneered from her post as we ascended the steps.
“Mom, I’m home. Lenni’s here, too.” The smell of cabbage assailed my nose.
“In here.”
We followed the sound of Mom’s voice to the kitchen.
“I’m making German red cabbage and new potatoes.”
“Yeah, I want to talk to you about that, Mom—” Lenni stamped my foot. “Hey!”
Lenni shook her head, mouthing the words, “Not now.”
“You want to talk to me about red cabbage?” Mom asked.
“Never mind.” I rubbed my sore toe with the other foot.
“So, if I get tickets to this thing next month, will you come with me?” Mom motioned to the fridge where the battered Squall
er flier hung from a magnet. “I don’t think I can talk your dad into it.”
I stared at Mom’s stomach, ambiguous under her flared gray top, wondering how far along she was. Would excruciatingly loud and, by the looks of the band, obnoxious eighties music be good for the baby?
“Umm, we’ll see,” I mumbled. “Me and Lenni are going upstairs now.”
* * *
Sunshine seeped through my eyelids, coaxing them open. My room was way too bright. I jolted upright and checked the clock.
“Lenni, get up. I forgot to set the alarm. We’re going to be late.” I roused Lenni from sleep, shaking her shoulder.
“What?” She rubbed her eyes, insanely clear and blue in the morning sunshine.
“Church. We have to hurry.”
“Maybe we should skip it.” She rolled over, folding a pillow around her head.
“No. This is important to me.” I scrambled to the closet and pulled down my best jeans and the lime-popsicle top. “Please.”
“Okay, okay, gimme a sec.” She yawned.
“We don’t have a second. It’s almost nine forty-five. Church starts at ten.” I slid out of yesterday’s clothing into the outfit I’d pulled from the closet. Lenni mumbled and rolled from the mattress.
“Let me take a quick shower.” She stretched her arms above her head.
“No time. We have to go.” I slipped into one of my ballerina flats. “Eww! They’re still wet.”
Lenni chuckled, rising from the bed.
“Oh, well. Hope I don’t get foot fungus.” I slid the other shoe on. Finding this hilarious, she fell back on the mattress.
“Get up.” I grabbed her limp-noodle arm. “Or I’ll tickle you.”
“No! Alright, I’ll get up.” She wriggled and squealed, the mere thought of being tickled throwing her into hysterics. She rolled to the floor and crawled to her backpack, ferreting out a stick of gum, lip gloss, and her Bible. After rearranging the clip in her hair, she strapped on her sandals and stood. “Ready,” she said, folding the gum into her mouth and smoothing her butterfly top. She looked radiant. It just wasn’t fair.
Second Bestie (Redbend High Book 1) Page 13