by Nancy Holder
“Can you stand up?” Rose asked.
Julie groaned. “I don’t know.” Ida loosened the torso section of the costume, and Julie pulled out her arms. She was wearing a simple white T-shirt and a jog bra underneath. Her ball gown was gathered around her hips, the torso and stump sticking straight out from her stomach. The pumping mechanism had shut off.
“We need to get help,” I said. “Maybe someone’s cell phone works up here. We can call security.”
Ida and Claire both grimaced; Julie shook her head. And Rose said, “Let’s think that one through, okay? It’s one in the morning and we are out here.” She looked around. “Maybe Mandy’s got an idea.”
“Go ask her,” Julie begged. “And tell her I’ll be right there, okay?”
Rose bounded away.
“I think I broke her costume,” Julie told me under her breath. She sounded very young and scared. I felt for her. She’d been so excited to be included.
“Well, she’s lucky you don’t sue her,” I replied.
“We could sling our arms under her shoulders and walk her back to the dorm,” Claire suggested.
“No, it’s almost a mile,” I argued. “Rose will come back with Mandy.”
But Rose jogged back empty-handed, shaking her head.
“They’re gone.”
“Oh, great,” Julie moaned. I could hear the hurt in her voice. They hadn’t waited for her.
“Hey,” said a deep masculine voice.
Two hiking boots were planted in front of me. Two long, muscular legs, in jeans. I gazed up to see the guy from the pines, tousle-headed, bedroom eyes . . . gazing directly at me. He caught my gaze and held it. All that was very nice . . . very nice . . . but it was his smile that mesmerized me. Sweet and kind of innocent. It actually made me smile . . . and tingle, and look down for a moment, to catch my breath. Then I looked back up.
“Chainsaw guy,” Ida breathed.
“Hi,” he said to me. “Need some help?”
ten
He stood in front of us, gazing down, his dark hair curling around his face, his eyes warm and deep blue. He had the kind of mouth that looked great when he smiled, with dimples on either side. His nose was straight, then a tad bit turned up, very adorable. His Lakewood sweatshirt clung to a fantastic chest and good arms. Jeans and boots finished it off. He smelled like wood smoke. It was a good smell for him.
“I saw you fall,” he said to Julie. He jerked his head in the direction of the pine trees. “I’ve got a car,” he said. “I can drive you back to Marlwood. Maybe you should go to the infirmary.” He looked at me again, as if he saw something he wanted to keep track of. Riley used to look at me like that.
There was no way Riley was going to share this moment. None.
I couldn’t seem to make my brain connect to my mouth. After an extended silence, I said, “Cool.”
That was brilliant.
“Can you get us close to our dorm instead?” Julie asked him. “We’re in Grose.” Julie looked quickly at me before continuing. “We can wait until morning to get it looked at. I’ll say I slipped on my way to breakfast. That way we won’t get in trouble.”
“No,” I said, picking up the layers of her dress and running my flashlight the length of her leg. Her jeans concealed her injury. “I say better a little bit of trouble now than, I dunno, gangrene setting in.”
“It’s just a sprain,” Julie retorted, but her voice was shaky. “And I don’t want to be in trouble, even a little. I want to go back to Grose.” Julie looked at the guy. “Please?”
“Sure,” he said, overruling me. “There’s a hole in the chain-link fence,” he told us. “You’ll have to crawl through.”
“I can do that,” Julie said.
He caught his lower lip and scratched his nose. He had dark eyebrows and just a hint of a five o’clock shadow. He was wearing a ring that caught the light. “You haven’t seen the hole yet.”
He looked at me, and my knees wobbled. “I’m Troy, by the way,” he told me. “Troy Minear.”
“Lindsay. Cavanaugh.”
We stared at each other for a second, and I felt something pass between us. It was physical, but it was more than that. After Riley, I thought I was over guys forever. One of the most appealing things about Marlwood was that it was an all-girls school. But now I was trying very hard not to drool.
“I could carry her,” he told me, pointing to Julie. I was normally a feminist type, but his heroic offer was seeming really hot right now. “Or two of you could let her sling her arms over your shoulders . . . what?” He cocked his head at me.
“Nothing. Sorry.” I had just been wishing I was the one hurt. I definitely wouldn’t mind being carried. I looked at Ida and Claire. “Are you guys in?”
“Yeah.” Ida bent down and picked up the weird porcelain head. “Is this what you tripped over, Julie?”
Julie nodded. “I want to keep it.” She reached out her arms. She looked guiltily at me. “If it’s valuable, I’ll give it back.”
“What is it, a head?” Troy said. “I’ll carry it for you.” He took it from Ida, wrapping his big hands around it as if it were a football. My imagination suited him up in shoulder pads and a helmet. Or maybe a basketball uniform. He was very tall, maybe too tall for football. If I ever tried to kiss him, I’d have to use a ladder.
Stop. But my heart was skipping beats. He was too, too hot.
And he was rescuing us—well, Julie, anyway.
Troy and I eased Julie to a standing position while Ida and Claire pushed down her costume. Rose folded it up.
“Can you put this in your trunk?” she asked him.
“Don’t put any weight on your ankle,” I told Julie, as she slung her arm over our shoulders and we started walking. Poor Julie moaned and hopped along. It was awkward in the extreme.
“Nice, kiddo,” Troy said. He was very gentle with her. “You look like a quarterback coming off the field.”
We reached the chain-link fence. Ferns and ivy braided the diamonds. Ida shone her flashlight along it, and we saw the jagged gap, which, luckily, was flush with the ground. Troy went through first, crab walking, then grabbed the top links of the hole and tried to stretch them upward. Each of us squirmed through; part of my mom’s sweatshirt caught on the broken fence, tearing the arm.
I helped Troy pull Julie through next. Julie sucked in her breath a lot, but we took our time. My fingers brushed Troy’s. I was hyperaware of touching him.
At last, the six of us stood on a rise. A hill spread below us, and there was a dark shape in the trees. His car. He fished in his pocket and handed a ring of keys to me.
“What kind of car do you have?” I asked. “So I’ll know which one it is.”
He chuckled. “It’s an old T-bird, but it’s the only car down there.” Then he looked at Julie. “It’s steep. We’ll go slowly.”
“This is really nice of you,” I said.
He didn’t say anything, but he did smile. I slid ahead of them down the hillside. When I saw his car—the T-bird was vintage, beautifully restored from some long-ago era—I smiled, too; it wasn’t what I would have expected from a rich boy at a private school. A Mercedes or a Beemer, maybe.
I got it open; Troy guided Julie into the passenger side while Claire, Ida, and Rose climbed into the back. I squished in on top of Rose and she said, “Hey, baby.”
The seats smelled like leather. The engine purred as he turned the key. Then he drove us down a winding road.
“This is Route 6 Bypass,” he said, “but locals call it Fire Lane. There’s an urban legend about a ghost who races down the middle of the road in a white nightgown. She’s screaming, and she’s on fire.”
“Oh my God, that’s creepy,” Julie said. “This place freaks me out.”
“Me, too,” Ida said.
“Three,” Claire agreed.
“That makes me four,” Rose reported in.
The car was close and stuffy. I rolled down the window with the crank handle. Cool
, silky air wafted against my forehead.
“Were you here tonight to help Mandy with her prank?” Ida asked him.
“No. I heard about the lake prank from Spider.” Troy sounded angry. “Way to nearly get someone killed. I thought I’d better come over and make sure tonight went smoothly.”
A fellow lifeguard, I thought approvingly.
“You go to Lakewood,” Claire said.
“Ever since seventh grade,” he answered.
“Have you ever seen a ghost?” Rose asked.
“No.” His voice was clipped.
I suddenly had the strangest thought. He’s lying.
The road seemed to disappear as he turned off his headlights when he reached the Marlwood admin building. He got out, tiptoed around to Julie’s side, and quietly popped her door. In silence, we scrambled out of the back, glancing in all directions to make sure no one was watching.
“We’ll take it from here,” Ida whispered. “If anyone saw us with you . . . ” She made a scratching sound and mimicked slicing off her head with her hand.
“Got it.” He steadied Julie while I took her arm. Rose popped open the trunk and pulled out the costume.
“Thank you,” Julie whispered. “You probably saved us from being expelled.”
He grinned at her. “You’re too cute to get expelled. Just like Spider told me. Night,” he murmured to all of us.
I didn’t know if I imagined it, but it seemed that he saved me for last. “Good night,” he mouthed, all dimples and that hunky five o’clock shadow.
“Yeah. Thanks again,” I managed. He didn’t answer, just smiled.
“What?” I asked.
He moved his shoulders. “Just lookin’,” he said in a twangy accent. Then he touched my hair. “Springy.”
“Wild. Untamed,” I replied.
“I like it.” His smile made my toes tingle. “So, what dorm—?”
“Guys, later,” Rose urged. Plink, our spell was broken.
“Later,” he echoed. Then he jumped back in his car, pulled out of the space, and drove away.
“Dang, he’s hot,” Ida breathed. “And nice. And did you check out what he said about Spider and Julie?” She fluttered her lashes at our wounded comrade.
Julie blushed.
“Yeah, but did you see the way he was looking at Lindsay?” Rose smacked her lips. “Yum-yum, freshman hottie.”
“Shut up,” I said happily.
“And you do not mean that in a trendy way,” Rose prompted.
I shook my wild, untamed hair and fluttered my long eyelashes. I felt positively radiant in my skuzzy jeans and tomboy sweatshirt.
It took forever to get to Grose. Ida crawled through the bathroom window we had cleverly left open, then tiptoed down the hall and let us in through the front door. She took the costume from Rose, who trotted off into the darkness.
Ida said, “There was a ghost in the bathtub. She was washing all her bodily cavities.”
“You’re evil,” Claire shot back. They both snickered.
I made Julie go to our room while I snagged the bag of ice from our freezer—practically the only thing in it—put there by Ms. Krige.
I carried the ice down the hall. Julie was sitting on the edge of her bed with Caspian in her lap. She had set the porcelain skull on the windowsill, and it gazed blankly at me as I crossed the threshold.
Our curtains were open; I thought we’d closed them. I saw nothing but the dark expanse of Jessel with its turrets and privet hedge. I wondered if Mandy and the others were back yet, and I marveled that we could do these things without getting busted.
At least so far. No more for you, Cinderella.
“Scoot back,” I told her. “I need to elevate your foot.”
I plucked my pillow off my bed and brought it to her as she obeyed. She sucked in her breath and clung to Caspian. I was seriously worried that her ankle was broken. I lifted up her calf and slid the pillow under it. Then I sat on the bed and carefully laid the ice over her ankle.
“Ow,” she said. “Ow, ow, ow.”
“Did you stash any painkillers?” I asked her. We were supposed to give all our medication to Ms. Krige, even our over-the-counter stuff. But who was going to go to all that trouble for cramps and headaches?
She nodded. “Ibuprofen. Little white bottle. In the top drawer of my dresser. My underwear drawer. Don’t look at my cup size.”
Smiling faintly, I got up and crossed to her dresser. Opened it. “I don’t care what your bra size is,” I assured her, as I came across a striped camisole and a matching bra beneath it. 32A.
Julie shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “My mom keeps saying I’ll fill out, but—”
“Oh, please, you have the adorable ballet dancer look going on.” I moved aside some cotton bikini underwear with little clouds and stars on them. Definitely angelic.
A light went on in the second story of Jessel. It was the turret room directly across from us, but no one went in.
I had a clear view; it was furnished similarly to Jessel’s downstairs—dark wood antiques, including a big desk and a four-poster bed. I marveled at the kind of wealth that allowed you to redecorate not just your dorm room, but your entire dorm. All I had brought was a picture of my parents.
I saw something on the turret room window and I squinted at it, blinking, making out the shape of a white oval. A face. There were two eyes and a half-opened mouth. It was the same face that I had seen in the window, the same girl whose reflection had appeared in the library.
“That is such a cool effect,” I said. I was actually a little creeped out. She—it—seemed to be staring right at me.
“What?” Julie half-turned. “Ow.” Stayed as she was.
“There’s a face in their window,” I said. “Like a reflection.”
“Of you?”
I squinted. Definitely a face, but blank. It didn’t move as I moved. Didn’t blink. The mouth stayed half-open.
“Nope. Just something Mandy whipped up. What was the rest of the house like?” Now I sounded like my dormies.
“Lots of gory fake body parts,” she said with a shudder. “They’re going to use them for their Halloween haunted house.”
The porcelain head sat silhouetted in the moonlight on our windowsill. White face, white brain marked into sections, with big black numbers. Where was the part of the brain that made you want to be with the cool girls even after they ditched your roommate?
Wait. Did it move?
I stared at the white head. It stared back at me. I gave myself a stern reminder about my conversation with Lara. I was not a gawker.
But the light glinted off it just then. . . .
“Hey,” Julie said, “are you okay?”
“Just really tired,” I said. Then I gave her what she needed to kill the pain.
eleven
October 31, Halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!
possessions: me
care package from CJ:
tons of Dove chocolate, God bless you, Stepmom
Too Faced makeup (given to Julie)
wool socks
some cool pajama pants
a new parka (her note said it’s going to snow. it’s very
sweet of her, but a little too . . . wrong.)
care package from Jason:
a Korean horror movie about a haunted girls boarding
school (thx, Mr. Snark)
army jacket. i love it!
OMG, Twizzlers!
RAWK! his old digital camera!!!!!!!!!!!!
a best friend ☺
mood: moody
listening to: “People Are Strange” off The Lost Boys ST cuz,
well, yeah . . . !
possessions: them in general
more stuff. it just keeps coming:
clothes
iPhones(no reception, but still...!)
jewelry—their parents send boatloads
more freakin’ furniture!
YET more stuff for the haunted house. can you say
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ENTIRE anamatronic graveyard in their front yard?
Light-up witch on the roof? OMG, OMG.
possessions: Mandy specifically
Lara
Kiyoko, who is acting weird
Alis—in! (and moved into Jessel!)
Sangeeta—in! (ditto!)
and Julie is, like, her total fawning puppy-dog
mood: INSANE?
listening to: the voices that tell her to be a bitch. ha.
plus: HALLOWEEN SCREAMS! TRICK OR TREAT,
YEAH!
Julie’s foot was sprained. At the infirmary they iced it and wrapped it. They told her to stay off it, but she was determined to wear her Tinker Bell costume and make the rounds of Halloweentown. Much hopping would be involved. Crutches were out; they clashed with her wings.
And that, pretty much, took care of October 30th. During the day, Marlwood was completely transformed. Eerie faces were sprayed on tree trunks with glow-in-the-dark paint. Motion detectors set off hysterical screaming all over campus, and fake bloody fingers writhed on branches and overhanging lamps. Dozens of the horse heads wore witch hats, and all of them disappeared under the obliging blanket of fog that swept over the campus at six-thirty, half an hour before the carnival was scheduled to start.
Grose had a totally lame cakewalk; they had already baked twenty cakes by the time I started school, and I helped frost a few. I made a spider cake and one that looked like a big eye with blood oozing out of it. Ida said I was sick. April offered to buy it then and there for a hundred dollars.
Marica decided we didn’t have enough cakes, and had a dozen overnighted from Charm City Cakes—scary Halloween villages, graveyards with little coffins that opened and closed, a big skull with eyes that we could set on fire.
Julie and I ran the cakewalk for the first shift. Since we had eight people in our dorm, and the carnival ran for four hours, we were gone in thirty minutes.
It followed that a girl who wore tattered jeans and sweatshirts would go minimalist for her Halloween costume, too. An old sheet, two eye holes, and I was a ghost. Ida, who had gone all out as a sexy vampire, told me I was “cunningly retro.”
