Dead Is Not an Option

by Marlene Perez

  The question was well-intentioned, but it brought a lump to my throat. I could practically see a neon Loser sign flash above my head. I pushed away my donut and mumbled something about a culinary-arts class, which, compared to their plans, sounded about as glamorous as being a professional file clerk.

  It was the sympathetic looks that really got to me. Obviously, everyone had already heard that I hadn't even gotten a reply from a single college. I got up from the table. "I need to check my work schedule," I said in a tiny voice, then fled the donut shop without looking back.

  I took refuge at Slim's, which was right across the street from the Donut Hole. I sat at the counter, and Flo took one look at me and made me a giant vanilla latte topped with a mountain of whipped cream.

  "What's the problem, Daisy?" she asked.

  "I'm a loser," I said. I took a sip of my coffee and nearly burned my tongue. "See? I can't even drink coffee properly."

  "Why do you think you're a loser?" she asked.

  "Because I'm going nowhere. Everyone else is leaving for college and I'm stuck here."

  "I know how you feel," she replied.

  "You do?" The surprise was apparent in my voice.

  She raised an eyebrow. "Did you think I always wanted to be a waitress at a diner?" she said wryly.

  "I guess not," I said. Truth be told, I hadn't thought about it much at all. Before now.

  "What happened?"

  "Our parents died and I felt compelled to stay in Nightshade with my brother," she said. "It was the right thing to do, and I don't regret it. Sometimes you have to make the hard choice, Daisy. But make sure you're the one doing the choosing."

  "Thanks for the coffee, Flo," I said. "And the talk."

  Ryan met me on my way back to the donut shop. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine," I lied. "I just needed to check the schedule, that's all."

  He picked up on the fact that I didn't want to talk about it and dropped the subject.

  "Jordan's having a party next Saturday night. Want to go?"

  "What kind of a party?" I said suspiciously.

  "No big deal," he said, a bit too casually. "Just an 'I got into Dartmouth' party."

  "I have to work," I said. I had no idea of my schedule, since I had forgotten to look, but I'd volunteer for that shift if I had to. "But you go ahead without me."

  "I don't want to go without you," Ryan said, but he didn't sound completely sincere. Who could blame him? It was senior year, and I knew he wanted to experience everything it had to offer.

  "Go," I said. "Maybe I can meet you after work."

  He took me home, and I collapsed into bed and slept until the sun went down.

  At school on Monday, I was still groggy from lack of sleep and had a steaming mug of coffee from home. I sat at one of the tables outside and stared at a wall.

  Ryan's voice calling my name finally brought me out of my fog.

  "Daisy, I've been calling you and calling you," he said. "You were really zoned out."

  "Just tired, I guess," I told him.

  "I think I have a solution to your college issue," he said. "Why haven't you called to find out what's going on with your applications?"

  "Honestly, I haven't had much time," I replied, but a tiny spark of excitement flared at his suggestion.

  He gave me a skeptical look.

  "Okay, I'm afraid," I admitted. "What if no one wants me?"

  "I want you," he said. "Always."

  I leaned in and kissed him.

  "You're right," I said. "I'm going to give the UC Nightshade Admissions Office a call. It's almost eight. Someone should be there." I grabbed my cell and dialed.

  The woman at the other end was courteous but ultimately couldn't help me. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I can't pull up your record right now."

  I just couldn't get a break. "Why not?"

  She lowered her voice. "I'm not supposed to say."

  "I'm desperate," I told her. "I haven't even gotten a letter, and I've been waiting forever."

  "I don't know that the information will be of any help," she said.

  "Please," I begged her.

  "Our computers were hacked into," she said. "Information was compromised on thousands of students, including those applying for the fall. It's a mess." Then, in a louder voice, she said, "Our systems should be up and running again in a few days. Please call back then. Have a good day."

  Then she hung up. I hoped she wouldn't get into any trouble.

  "At least I tried," I said. "But why would anyone want to hack into a university database?"

  Ryan thought for a minute. "I would guess that at least fifty percent of the students at UC Nightshade are paranormals. Do you think the Scourge could be behind it?"

  "I don't know what to think," I said. "But it's worth letting Nicholas know. He can tell the rest of the council."

  I was boycotting council meetings. They probably didn't even notice, but I was still peeved that they'd let Circe off while Lily still languished in the jukebox and Balthazar remained in a pig.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It turned out that I really did have to work the Saturday night of Jordan's party, which eased my conscience a bit. My mood improved at the thought that it was a huge computer error and not some personal flaw that accounted for my lack of acceptance at UC Nightshade.

  Still, it didn't change the fact that I didn't know what my plans were for the fall.

  I did know, however, that I was becoming this whiny self-obsessed person, and I didn't like her very much. I vowed to shape up and quickly.

  Which is why I didn't say no when Sam approached me about the senior talent show. The talent show was a tradition, and the date of the performance was always announced a mere forty-eight hours before the actual event.

  Everyone in the senior class was supposed to participate, but the rules were that you couldn't do something you were really talented at doing. So Sam couldn't boss people around, and I couldn't bake a cake. And we weren't allowed to practice more than once before the show. People broke a few of the rules sometimes, but the idea was to be as spontaneous as possible.

  "Want to do something together?" she said.

  "Wouldn't you rather perform with Sean?" I asked.

  "He's doing an act with Ryan. Very hush-hush," she said.

  I remembered my vow to try to get into the spirit of things.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "Can you sing or dance?" Samantha said.

  "No," I said.

  "Perfect," she said. "Then that's what we're going to do."

  I smothered a groan.

  "You already said yes," Sam reminded me. "Besides, all those years of gymnastics have to be good for something."

  After a couple of hours of debate, we finally agreed on a song, "I Love Rock and Roll," which was definitely done better by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.

  "Do you have any leather pants?" Sam asked me.

  "No," I said. "And I don't intend to buy any." Sam had the body for tight leather pants. I did not.

  "Do you think Nurse Phillips would let you borrow a pair of hers?" she said.

  I sent her a horrified look. "Poppy has a leather jacket I can borrow," I said. "I am not, under any circumstances, appearing in front of my classmates in leather pants."

  Forty-eight hours later, we were backstage at the talent show. Sam had chosen to go the full black-leather route. She wore skintight black leather pants and a short leather jacket over a red shirt.

  I did my best tough-girl impression in cheetah-print leggings and a black T-shirt. My hair was curling wildly about my face. Poppy had teased it until it added about six inches to my already-tall frame.

  The faculty advisor put a bunch of numbers into the hat to decide what order we would perform in.

  Sam reached in and pulled out a number while I prayed we wouldn't have to go first.

  "Seventh," she said. "That's lucky, right?"

  I started stretching, my body protesting as I used muscle
s that I hadn't even thought about since I quit the cheerleading team.

  Penny and Tyler were the first to go on, but judging from their laughter, it didn't seem to bother them. Penny was dressed as Sandy in Grease, after the big makeover, and Tyler was wearing something very similar to what he wore to prom—black jeans and a black T-shirt. They were obviously going to sing "You're the One That I Want." We heard the music start and then Tyler and Penny began to sing. I was right about their song choice. Penny was a little pitchy at first, but she ended strong. They finished to a burst of applause.

  Then a couple of the football players threw lit batons in the air and caught them.

  "That's cheating a little," Ryan said. "Brian Miller's sister is a twirler for marching band."

  The next performers were Jordan and Rachel, who did a comedy routine that had the crowd in stitches.

  "Don't look so nervous," Ryan said. "This is supposed to be fun."

  He and Sean were wearing matching white shirts with black vests and black pants.

  "What are you doing for the performance?" I asked.

  He only smiled and said, "You'll see."

  I bit my nails while I was waiting for our number to be called. There was a time when I was used to performing in public. As a gymnast.

  Then it was Samantha's and my turn. I put on Poppy's black leather jacket, took a deep breath, and followed Sam as she strutted onto the stage.

  When the music started, I took a deep breath and waited for my cue. The good thing about the song we'd chosen was that it needed to be belted out, so I really used my lungs as I sang.

  The crowd started to sing along, and suddenly, I felt freer than I'd felt in months. While Sam sang the last few notes, I launched myself across the stage and went into a handstand and then down into a split as the song ended.

  The crowd shouted its approval, and Sam and I took a brief bow, then ran offstage, sweaty and exhilarated.

  "That was fun," I said. "I'm so glad you talked me into it."

  She linked arms with me. "Let's slip into the audience so we can watch the guys."

  We found seats at the end of a row near the front.

  I noticed quite a few strangers in the audience, which was a little unusual. The talent show was open to the public, but I couldn't imagine wanting to sit through it unless you either were a graduating senior or knew and loved one.

  There was a woman sitting next to Mr. Devereaux. They seemed to know each other quite well and whispered to each other during the performances. She wore a white trench coat, scarf, and huge sunglasses that made her look a little bit like a bug.

  I nudged Samantha."Is that your father's new girlfriend?"

  "I don't know who that is," she said, dismissing the woman with a glance. "But Daddy dates a lot of women."

  We sat through three other acts before Ryan and Sean came onstage. Reese and Andres joined them, and the four broke into a song I'd never heard of called "Girl of My Dreams." I was happy to see that the animosity between them seemed to have disappeared.

  "I would never have guessed a barbershop quartet," I said.

  "I didn't even know Sean could sing," Samantha admitted.

  After that, we sat in silence, mesmerized by their voices. Halfway through, all four boys left the stage and walked down the aisles, singing as they went. They were obviously searching for specific people. Sean and Ryan stopped in front of Sam and me. Ryan took my hand and knelt in front of me just as the last bars of the song faded away.

  I looked around and saw that the other three boys had done the same thing. Sean was next to us, kneeling in front of Sam. Andres was kissing Lilah's hand, and Reese had Jordan in a low dip.

  The crowd jumped to their feet and gave the guys a standing ovation.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It was the end of May, and the feeling at Nightshade High was one of high excitement, mixed with a tinge of melancholy. Everyone seemed hyperaware that this was a time of lasts. It was certainly affecting me that way. Every time I walked down the hall, I knew it would be one of the last few times I went to my locker or ate lunch with Ryan and my friends in the cafeteria, that these were my last days of being a high school student.

  Even Sam's ordering me around took on a certain bittersweet quality.

  There was less than a month before I was going to graduate from Nightshade High, but I wasn't really looking forward to it. The conversation at the donut shop kept ringing in my ears. Was I destined for college at all?

  One Monday afternoon I was moping on the couch in old sweats and hadn't bothered with a shower. Poppy came in and turned the television channel without asking, which was something that normally only mildly annoyed me. Today I decided to pick a fight with her.

  "Hey, I was watching that," I said. "Could you stop being so self-absorbed for just ten seconds and ask before you change the channel?"

  Poppy practically dropped the remote, she was so surprised.

  "Sorry," she said shortly. She didn't seem like she meant it though.

  "What's your problem?" I snarled at her.

  "You're completely unbearable these days," Poppy said. "What's the matter with you?"

  "I'm such a loser," I said.

  "What are you talking about?" She moved my legs out of the way and sat next to me.

  "Everyone says long-distance relationships never work," I said. "And you should hear everyone else's college plans. Ryan should be going out with someone like Jordan or Rachel instead of a loser like me."

  "What's this really about?" she asked me shrewdly. "The Daisy I know would rather claw out her own eyes than give up Ryan Mendez, so what's the story?"

  "I still haven't gotten any acceptance letters," I wailed, bursting into tears. "Not even from UC Nightshade."

  "That's not right," she said with gratifying speed. "There's something rotten in the state of Nightshade."

  "I called admissions, and they said their database was down."

  "When was that?"

  "I don't know," I said. "A couple of weeks ago."

  "Why don't you call them again?"

  I followed my sister's advice, but the phone call wasn't that illuminating. "Yes, there was an issue with our database, but it's been resolved. New letters have been mailed out," the woman on the phone said.

  "You can't tell me if I've been accepted or not?" I asked.

  "I'm afraid not. You should receive your replacement letter any day."

  I thanked her and hung up the phone.

  "Well?" Poppy asked.

  "I have to wait until I get the new letter," I said.

  "That sucks," she replied.

  No kidding.

  But by Friday my mood had improved.

  "Guess what I finally got my hands on?" Ryan said. He jingled a set of keys in front of my face.

  "Excellent," I said. "When can we do it?"

  "How about tonight?" he said. "It's Memorial Day weekend and Officer Denton and Dad are always busy with the tourists."

  Ryan was right. There was no sign of Chief Mendez or Officer Denton when we slipped into the precinct. I had remembered my handy-dandy penlight and shone it around so that we wouldn't break a toe or anything.

  "The old files are in storage," he whispered.

  We passed by the morgue, and Ryan swept me into his arms for a quick kiss. "Just for old times' sake," he said.

  "As enjoyable as that was," I said, "we're on a tight schedule."

  The old files were stored in a creepy basement room with bad lighting and a musty smell. Row upon row of metal shelving contained white storage boxes with a year and a name written in a black Sharpie on the front.

  "Exactly how old is Mrs. Wilder?" Ryan asked. "That might help us figure out what year it's filed under."

  "I don't know," I said. "Maybe she's in her eighties? Lily was her older sister. Mrs. Wilder was a little girl when Lily disappeared."

  It felt like we'd already been there a long time, and I was worried we'd get caught and Ryan would get into trou
ble.

  "Maybe the evidence file was misfiled," I suggested.

  Ryan looked offended.

  "I don't mean by your dad," I added. "How far back have you looked?"

  "Nineteen thirties," he said.

  "Is there anything earlier? It's got to be here."Just as I said it I spotted the name varcol on one of the boxes on the top shelf. "This is it."

  Ryan grabbed it and put it on the floor. We sat and looked through it. I read quickly. "It shows the ring was entered into evidence, but it's not here," I said.

  Ryan lifted up the box. "There's a hole in the bottom. Maybe it fell out."

  With an inward shudder, I lay on the floor and shone the penlight under the shelving. I caught a gleam when the light hit an object.

  "I see something," I said. I stretched my arm out and wiggled closer in order to reach it.

  I closed my hand over a small, cold object and brought it out from under the shelving. Lily Varcol's engagement ring was in the palm of my hand. I felt like shouting with joy but didn't want anyone to hear us.

  Could it be so simple? Could it have been in the old police files all this time?

  I couldn't wait until the morning, when I could call Natalie. I was scheduled to work anyway. I'd see her even before Slim's opened.

  "We'd better get out of here," Ryan said.

  I put the ring in my pocket, and we managed to sneak out without getting caught.

  Ryan parked in front of my house and turned off the engine.

  "Ryan, I can't tell you how much this means to me. Thanks so much for going with me tonight."

  "You know I'd do anything for you. You have a smudge on your face," he said. Right before he kissed me.

  I was a bundle of nerves, though, and couldn't enjoy the moment. "I'm taking the ring to work tomorrow," I said. "I'll give it to Lily as soon as we break the enchantment."

  After we said good night, I went up to my room, still too keyed up to sleep. What should I do with the ring? I finally decided to put it on a gold chain and conceal it under my clothing.

  But when I got to work the next morning, there was an unfamiliar face behind the grill.

  "Where's Slim?" I asked Flo.