Epilogue
The authorities chalked our disappearance up to an excessive after-party. Everyone assumed we holed up in a hotel room on the strip for the weekend to drink beer and do drugs. Sam's parents may have grounded her for pretty much the rest of her life, but at school she was a living legend.
Apparently missing persons reports had been filed and most of the students at the dance were interviewed for any leads. A new badass reputation sent Sam's social capital through the roof. Every guy in our class was clamoring for a chance to be with the coolest girl in school. She'd have dates lined up for at least a year, if her parents ever allowed her to leave the house again.
My own parents seemed relatively unfazed. My father eyed me a bit more warily when our paths crossed. If having his plans derailed bothered him, he hadn't let on. Not yet. My mother touched me whenever she could, stroking my hair or holding my hands. It took a lot for a Wayward to change their ways.
Zach was avoiding me. He went so far as to have his schedule rearranged so we didn't take any classes together. He even took a different lunch period. Band class was almost unbearable. Ms. Tripoli blamed me personally for him changing electives, assuming the 10-page essay she assigned me on the history of the triangle was any indication.
When we made it back to Los Angeles, Cynthie and I left him sleeping in his car, still parked in the school lot. The memory spell she'd cast either didn't work or Cynthie lied about performing it. If Zach caught sight of me in the halls, he immediately turned on his heel, eyes full of fear and mistrust.
It hurt to be without him, but I had other problems to deal with.
I dreamed of Valentine. When it was quiet, his voice whispered through my mind as if he stood over my shoulder. I would see him out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to look, I was alone. Maybe the memories needed time to fade. Maybe I was going crazy. I could only wait and pray.
The Blooded were mine to control, at least for now. No challengers had stepped forward—Darius took my threat seriously and disappeared—but it was only a matter of time. Valentine's power still burned within me, wild and uncontrollable, enough to protect me from all comers. But, if I released the monster inside of me, there was no guarantee I could gain control of it again.
The second of week of March, on a Thursday night, we crowded into the school's auditorium for the Senior Showcase. I'd originally had no intention of attending but Sam's dance team was performing a number in the third act. School events were the only thing she was allowed to participate in unchaperoned, so I had no choice but to be there.
I gritted my teeth through the first act. The juggler wasn't bad, but the yodeling twins were almost too much to sit through. The curtain came down on a ten-minute recitation of the Minute Waltz and I rose quickly from my seat. Sam was backstage. She wouldn't notice if I left for a few minutes to get some air.
The curtain came up and Zach took center stage.
I sank back into my chair and my heart hammered painfully in my chest. In the darkened auditorium with the spotlight blinding him, there was no way Zach could see individual faces in the audience. I could only imagine that we were alone, that he could still stomach the sight of me.
He sat on a stool in the center of the stage and his guitar rested on one thigh. He strummed a single chord and the sound was strong and sweet and heartbreaking. He played the guitar like a long-lost lover.
Then he began to sing.
Pretty girl
with the sad eyes
Magic girl
with a cold smile
You don't realize
That I see through your lies
You don't realize
I know when you cry
Because I realize
That it's all a disguise.
The audience held a rapt silence. I was the only one not staring transfixed at the stage, mesmerized into stillness. An uncomfortable feeling grew inside me.
Lovely girl
with the broken heart
You've got me
And you don't even know it
You've got me
And I can't even show it.
I felt ripped open and exposed. Every hurt and slight was laid bare for the world to see. Zach rose to a standing ovation while I seethed inside.
When the curtain closed, I leapt out of my seat and hurtled down the side aisle. I wrenched open the door that led backstage and looked frantically through the crowd of students gathered in the narrow space.
I didn't see Zach.
Two girls in matching leotards sat on the floor close to the wing of the stage.
"Did you see where Zach went?"
"Who?" The girl on the right asked, rolling her eyes.
"Zach—the guy who was just on stage."
"The goth kid," the dancer on the left said to her partner. She pointed to a side door that led to the parking lot. "I think he went through there."
I pushed open the door and ran to the parking lot. It was deserted. I jogged around the side building. I saw Zach in the carpool loop, tucking his guitar case into the back of an old Civic hatchback.
I approached him slowly. I had no idea what to say to him. A hundred possibilities ran through my mind but when he raised his head and a faint spark of recognition lit his eyes, my mind blanked. I said the first thing I could think of.
"Where's the Indian?" I winced as the words passed my lips. I was pathetic.
"Guitar won't fit on it." He slammed the hatch closed. "This is my mom's car."
There was a long silence.
"How are you?" I asked finally.
"I've been better," he said with a shrug. "You?"
"The same, I guess."
Zach nodded slowly and gave a short laugh. "You got a lot of nerve, you know that?"
"What does that mean?"
"There's three days of my life that I can't remember. My parents called the cops while I was gone. I can't answer any of their questions."
"Do you want to know what happened?" I wanted to cry.
"Not really." He kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot. "Something tells me I don't remember for a reason. My mom thinks it was drugs."
"I'm sorry, Zach—"
"There's something wrong with you, you know that? Something weird. Something crazy."
I looked away, my lower lip trembling. I'd chased after him. I asked for this.
"And I can't stop thinking about you."
My incredulous gaze swung back to his.
"These last few weeks without you have been the worst of my life." He laughed harshly, at me or at himself. "You're all I think about. I wrote a song about you and sang it in front of the entire school, for Christ's sake."
I sniffed loudly. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I love you and I can't live without you. All that mushy, greeting card stuff."
"I love you, too." I spoke the words so softly they may have only been a thought.
"If this is what you want—" His voice grew serious. "—if I'm what you want. You can't hide from me anymore. No more lies."
"No more lies," I agreed solemnly.
He grasped my hands and pulled me closer. His head bent towards mine and a mere inch kept our lips from meeting. The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them.
"I'm a witch."
He pulled back. "What?"
"That's what's weird about me." I forced the confession out. "That's what's different. I'm a witch. My whole family is, actually. We cast spells. We're witches."
He eyed me steadily. "Is this a joke?"
"You said no more lies." I wanted so desperately not to lose him, but keeping secrets was what pushed him away in the first place. "That's what I've been hiding from you. I'm a witch."
"I got it. Okay." He breathed in slowly. "Can you prove it?"
"I can and I will." I bit my lower lip. "But I really think you should kiss me first."
Zach leaned forward and pressed his warm lips against mine. He tasted like spearmint gum and sun
shine. In that moment, nothing else—not Valentine, not my family, not even the future—mattered to me at all.
The End
Visit Ashley Girardi online at:
https://ashleygirardi.blogspot.com
Wayward Page 35