3 Conjuring

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Nothing,” I sighed.

  Brittany turned to Will suspiciously. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Will shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  “What were you two talking about?” Brittany asked, scanning Will’s face for clues.

  “We were just talking.” Will looked like he was caught in a trap. I had to wonder how long he would stay here before he chewed off his own leg to extricate himself.

  “About what?” Brittany persisted.

  “Just stuff,” Will said, shrugging noncommittally as he shifted uncomfortably.

  Brittany swung to me. “I thought you were with Aric?”

  “I am with Aric.”

  “Then why are you out here having intense conversations with Will?”

  “That’s a pretty good question.”

  I cringed when I heard Aric’s harsh voice. When I glanced over at him, his face was unreadable. This wouldn’t end well.

  “See, Aric thinks it’s suspicious, too,” Brittany said primly.

  I glanced at Aric. “We were just talking. It wasn’t anything big.”

  Aric didn’t even look in my direction. “I warned you.”

  Will shrank in the shadow of Aric’s furious countenance. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “I told you to stay away from her.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Will repeated.

  Anger surged through me. “Who are you to warn him to stay away from me?”

  Aric shifted his gaze to me. “What?”

  “You’re not the boss of me, or him,” I pointed out.

  “I didn’t say I was,” Aric growled.

  “Then who are you to warn him away?”

  “I’m the guy trying to protect you,” Aric shot back hotly.

  “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “Since when?”

  “Excuse me.”

  “You’ve needed me to swoop in and save you since the day I met you.”

  “That is crap.” Now I was really angry.

  “It’s not crap. Who saved you the night this jackass was going to let the pack rip you apart?”

  “Hey!” Will broke in. “That is not what happened.”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” Aric replied disdainfully. “You sat there like a scared little girl and just let them attack her.”

  “I did not.”

  “Why are you two fighting over her?” Brittany interjected. “It seems pretty counterproductive.”

  “Shut up, Brittany,” I grumbled. “You’re not even a part of this conversation.”

  “Oh, because it’s always about you,” Brittany sighed dramatically. “I forgot.”

  “Come on, Zoe,” Aric held his hand out for me. “We’re leaving.”

  “Since when?” I asked. “Since when do you just order me around? Maybe you should get me a leash and pretty collar. I would prefer one with rhinestones.”

  Aric pursed his lips irritably. “Are you really going to make this a thing?”

  “You made this a thing. We were just talking. In case you forgot, we have a lot of history together that doesn’t involve you. We’ve known each other for a really long time.”

  “Fine,” Aric replied shortly. “You know each other. That still doesn’t change the fact that he can’t be trusted around you.”

  “Why?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “Apparently I’m just that dumb,” I replied bitterly.

  “He still has feelings for you,” Aric said plaintively.

  “He does not,” I argued, glancing at Will. I was floored when Will’s face colored with embarrassment. Crap.

  “He does so,” Aric replied. “Look at him.”

  “I don’t think he still has feelings for Zoe,” Brittany said pragmatically. “I think he’s just a good guy who wants to make sure that she’s okay. That’s not a bad thing. It’s like they’re brother and sister more than anything else. You should calm down.”

  “Shut up, Brittany,” Aric ordered.

  Brittany looked taken aback. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  Brittany swung back around to me. “Are you going to let him talk to me that way?”

  “Why are you even in this conversation?” I practically exploded.

  Brittany turned to Will, faux crocodile tears swimming in her blue eyes. “You don’t still have feelings for Zoe, do you? Just tell them.”

  Will straightened decisively. “I don’t have feelings for her.”

  Brittany smiled triumphantly even though she was the only one in the little circle who believed that statement.

  “Great,” I said. “That’s settled.” I turned on my heel and started walking toward the road.

  “Where are you going?” Aric asked angrily.

  “Home.”

  “The car is the other way.”

  “I’m not going home with you.”

  “I’m not chasing you,” Aric warned me. “If you want to walk home, alone, on a dangerous college campus, that’s your choice. I’m not going to chase you, though.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I mean it.”

  “So do I.”

  “Dammit,” Aric growled and turned in the opposite direction, stalking back toward the fraternity house. “You are just one big freaking headache. I swear. You drive me absolutely crazy!”

  “Take some Advil.”

  I was halfway across campus before I regained my breath. I was angry, that was for sure, but I couldn’t decide whom I was angry with. Aric? Yeah, that Neanderthal thing was a little too much, but it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d gone there.

  Will? He hadn’t really done anything to warrant fury. Brittany? I was always angry with her. She hadn’t done anything out of character. Me? That was just crazy. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Except go to a party I shouldn’t have gone to, I reminded myself. This whole situation was totally my fault. Crap. Who needs that?

  As I started to calm down, I realized the reality of my sudden isolation. Aric had been right. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have walked home alone. My impulsive nature often leads to immaturity. It’s my biggest fault – and that’s saying something, because I have a lot of faults. I have a list. I’ll show it to you some day.

  I glanced nervously around the path that led to the dorms. The sidewalk was well lighted, but this was still Michigan. There were plenty of foliage-heavy areas where someone could hide. I had just about worked myself up into a righteous frenzy when

  I heard a twig snap in the bushes to my right. I jumped involuntarily and then froze.

  I waited a few seconds, debating about the intelligence of searching the bushes, when I decided I had imagined it and it was time to move on.

  That’s when another bush, a little farther up the trail crackled. Crap on toast.

  I made a quick decision; instead of staying on the trail and walking past the bushes to my right I broke into a run and sprinted through the open area of grass to my left, not stopping until I hit another sidewalk that was close enough to the dorms that someone could hear me scream. If that became necessary, I mean.

  I scanned the sidewalk behind me, but no one had crawled out of the bushes to chase me. I figured I had imagined it until I saw a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye. When I glanced up, I blew out a relieved sigh when I realized it was just a student entering the front door of the dorms. I’d worked myself up for nothing.

  As the figure had traveled to the lighted area in front of the main door my relief turned to wariness, though, when I recognized the individual entering the building.

  It was Jessica.

  Huh. She couldn’t have been following me. Could she?

  Five

  I waited until I was sure the entryway was empty and then followed Jessica into the dorm. I glanced around the lobby, but it was vacant except for the student clerk behind the front desk. I flashed my iden
tification to her as I moved toward the stairs and then stopped and swung back toward the front desk. “Did someone come in right before me?”

  The girl looked surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “Right before I came in,” I repeated. “There was another girl who came in. Did you see where she went?”

  The clerk eyed me dubiously. “Are you high or something?”

  “No. I saw a girl with dark hair come in here before me. Which way did she go?”

  “No one came in before you,” the girl shook her head emphatically, her shoulder-length red hair swinging. “I think you’re imagining things – or hallucinating.”

  “I’m not … whatever.” This argument was clearly going to get me nowhere so I headed for the stairs. I climbed the three flights to my floor, making sure that Jessica wasn’t hiding around every corner as I climbed. I stalled outside my dorm room long enough to look up and down the hall – but no one was there.

  Once inside the room, I was surprised to find Kelsey rummaging through the crate full of food by our small refrigerator.

  “Hey,” I greeted her warily. “I thought you were out with Matilda at the party.”

  “She met some guy,” Kelsey muttered, wobbling slightly. “She went home with him.”

  She was clearly drunk. This was the most she had ever said to me, though – and in the most amiable manner – so I decided to press my luck. “How did you get home?”

  “I walked.”

  “Alone?”

  “It was either that or watch Matilda have sex with some random guy. It seemed like the safer choice.” Kelsey dropped to her knees, shoving food aside as she searched for something specific. Given how thin she was – she worked out every day – I had a feeling it was something healthy, which wasn’t enough to entice me to help her.

  “I see your point,” I said finally. “Does she do this a lot? I mean, take off with random guys.”

  “Every chance she gets,” Kelsey nodded wearily.

  “She’s a little boy crazy, huh?” I arched an eyebrow speculatively.

  “She’s a big slut,” Kelsey agreed.

  “I didn’t say she was a slut,” I hedged.

  “I know,” Kelsey replied. “That was me. I’m not that drunk. I remember what I said.

  Aha! I found it.” She pulled a can out of the crate triumphantly. The motion was enough to cause her to topple onto her rear and land on the cold linoleum with a thud. “Ow! That hurt.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Kelsey grumbled, popping the ring on the top of the can and peeling it off excitedly. I watched with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion as Kelsey dug into the can with her fingers and pulled out a beet and popped it into her mouth. That’s not exactly what I thought of when I yearned for a snack food.

  “Is that a beet?”

  “No,” Kelsey shook her head. “It’s a pickled beet.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Pickle juice.”

  How stupid of me. “You like pickled beets?”

  “Don’t you?” Kelsey asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really had one. I pick the regular ones off of my Greek salad, though.”

  “Try one,” Kelsey motioned for me to sit on the floor with her. I was fairly sure I didn’t want to eat beets, but I was also fairly certain this might be my only chance to make any headway with Kelsey. I opted for roommate solidarity.

  Sitting next to her, I glanced in the can dubiously. “What do they taste like?”

  “Pickled beets,” Kelsey replied simply.

  “You can’t pick another food to compare them to?”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, reaching into the can and grabbing one of the cold slices. What the hell, right? I popped it into my mouth and started to chew. I was surprised when I didn’t immediately want to hurl. “These are pretty good,” I said finally.

  “I told you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  We munched on the beets in silence for a few moments, Kelsey staring at the bare wall across from us and me watching her curiously. She really was strikingly pretty.

  She was all high cheekbones, long lashes, bright green eyes and long brownish-blonde hair. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed before. Of course, her usual scowl was absent, which might be why she looked so different.

  “Can I ask you something?” I finally broke the silence.

  “Sure.”

  “Why are you so … .”

  “Bitchy?” Kelsey supplied helpfully.

  “I wouldn’t say bitchy,” I answered carefully. “I guess I would say cold.”

  “I don’t know,” Kelsey replied honestly. “I guess it just takes me a little while to warm up to people.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to be bitchy,” I reminded her.

  “I know. It’s just that … I wasn’t sure what to think of you guys, you especially.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re kind of famous around campus,” Kelsey explained.

  I froze uncomfortably when Kelsey fixed her odd green eyes on me. “Famous?” I laughed hollowly. “How so?”

  Kelsey wouldn’t be the first person to know more about me than I knew about myself. I honestly hoped this wouldn’t be like that, though. I was just starting to like her.

  “You’re the girl who bagged Aric Winters,” Kelsey giggled.

  Oh, that. “Bagged? That’s a weird term.”

  “He’s like the hottest guy on campus. Everyone is after him.”

  “I guess,” I mused.

  “You also were there when that Zach guy went crazy,” Kelsey said. “Everyone on campus said you were seriously badass.”

  “Aric was badass,” I said. “I ran like a girl.”

  “You are a girl,” Kelsey reminded me. “I would have run, too.”

  “I know.”

  “Then there was that whole dead roommate thing first semester last year,” Kelsey continued. “Some of the girls from your floor thought that you did it.”

  “What?” I was flabbergasted.

  “Well, it was just so weird – the way she died in that alley,” Kelsey said. At least she didn’t know the real story – that was a relief. “People said you were questioned by the police.”

  “Only because we were with her at the bar before she disappeared,” I said hurriedly.

  “I figured,” Kelsey mused, digging into the can of beets again. “My dad is a cop in

  Detroit. I told people you weren’t a suspect, but you know how girls are. When they’re threatened by someone, they make up horrible things about them.”

  “Why would they be threatened by me?” I queried.

  “Because,” Kelsey replied simply. “You’re different. When people are different, that makes other people – boring people – look at the different person and wish they could be like them. When they realize that they can’t be like them, they start to covet what that person has.”

  “People covet my life?” That couldn’t be right. My life was a mess. “Why?”

  “Because things just seem to happen that launch you into the spotlight,” Kelsey rambled on. “Your roommate dies and people see you getting attention for it. You get stalked by a killer and saved by the hottest guy on campus and people wish that would have been them. Then, when you come back from summer vacation and that guy is all over you, well, then people just get outright jealous.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” I said. “My life is not something to be jealous of.”

  “You think that because you see all the flaws,” Kelsey replied sagely. “People don’t see the flaws when they look at someone. Don’t get me wrong, they’re willing to make up flaws when they dislike someone, but they never see the real flaws. They never see the things that haunt someone. They ignore those.”

  Huh. “You’re pretty deep,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting that. You’re wrong, though; people aren’t jealous of me. The
y’re afraid of me.”

  “Why would they be afraid of you?” Kelsey scoffed.

  “Because I’m different,” I answered quietly. “You said that yourself. People fear things they don’t see in themselves.”

  “You want to be different,” Kelsey was insistent. “Trust me. Five years from now, the faceless masses will be stuck in cubicles and following set life plans. They’ll be married and have 2.5 kids and they’ll be living in the suburbs. You’ll be more than that.”

  “You seem pretty sure of that,” I laughed.

  “I see greatness,” Kelsey shrugged. “I recognize it when I see it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I couldn’t help but like this Kelsey. Maybe I should keep her drunk all the time. That was an interesting thought – although I would probably go broke with the effort. “How do you recognize it?”

  “I see it in the mirror every day,” Kelsey smirked.

  I couldn’t help joining in with her laughter when she dissolved into giggles. “I bet you do.”

  Kelsey suddenly sobered. “Just be careful,” she warned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When people see greatness, they try to squash it.”

  “Good to know.” Apparently Kelsey was a philosophical drunk. At least she wasn’t a weepy drunk.

  “Matilda will try to squash it,” Kelsey muttered, her voice barely a whisper.

  “What?”

  “Matilda. Be careful around her, too,” Kelsey continued, her voice low. “I knew something was up when she insisted we live with you. I didn’t realize, though … I didn’t realize.”

  “You didn’t realize what?” I pressed.

  It must have occurred to Kelsey that she’d said too much, because she suddenly lurched to her feet and took a shaky step away from me.

  “You didn’t realize what?”

  “Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.” Kelsey rushed to the bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet.

  Here’s a tip: Pickled beets look even more gross when they come back up. Just keep that in mind.

  September

  Six

  I don’t generally consider Mondays fun, but when you’re starting a new semester and you finally get a chance to get a gander at your new classes, there’s a certain element of excitement that can’t be denied. And, when you’re in college, you can virtually ensure that those classes don’t start before noon.