by R. L. Stine
“There’s an even nicer path around the other side,” he said. “Lots of wildflowers. Of course, you can’t see them at night.”
“I . . . have to catch up to my friend,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay. Have a good one.”
I pushed open the doors and stepped into the lobby. No sign of Aiden anywhere.
It was late. There was no one behind the front desk. I could hear voices and music from the bar. I trotted down the hall to check it out and look for him there.
My eyes must have been playing tricks on me. There was no reason for Aiden to come to Marissa’s wedding. Not after what happened. I knew for sure that no one had invited him.
The little purple-and-gray bar off the hall was crowded. I recognized most everyone. They were from the wedding party. Doug sat at the end of the bar with a bunch of his buddies clustered around. They were clinking beers and laughing a lot.
Marta, Uncle Kenny’s ex-wife, sat at a low table across from my aunt Dawn. They both stared at martini glasses in their hands.
No sign of Aiden.
My cousin Sarah waved to me from a stool against the back wall, but I pretended I didn’t see her. The memories about Aiden were washing back to me, like ocean waves on a beach, one after another, an endless sweep of memories.
I gave the bar one last search. Then I hurried to my room. I wanted to be away from the laughing voices and the clinking glasses and the faces. . . . Away from all those faces, so I could remember.
I kicked off my sneakers and settled back on the bed, rested my head against the soft, padded headboard, and let the memories come, let the waves wash over me, cold and steady, chilling as they were, chilling and painful in so many ways. . . .
A year ago. No. A little more than a year ago. It was April of last year. Spring break and we were all looking forward to seeing Marissa, hearing about her semester, her adventures in Madison.
She always came back from college bursting with stories and funny anecdotes. She loved it at Wisconsin. I pictured her fluttering her arms like a bird—so happy to be free, so happy to be away from Shadyside and starting a real life on her own.
She was nice to me on those visits. I don’t really think she missed me when she was there with all her friends and her classes and the orchestra she played in. We’d talk maybe every two or three weeks on FaceTime. But our conversations were always short and awkward, and I could never think of anything interesting to say.
I was going through a serious guy phase. I was kind of crazed. I was hanging out with three—or four? I can’t remember exactly—different guys that year. So there was no way I could talk to Marissa about that. But when she came home during vacation breaks in her chirpy, excited, enthusiastic mood, she was nice to me, and even caring.
But believe me, we were all shocked when she came prancing into the house, pulling Aiden behind her. “This is Aiden,” she announced, as if that was explanation enough.
Mom and Dad acted as if they weren’t the least bit surprised, but, of course, they had to be. Robby and I tried to act cool, too. But I was stammering and maybe blushing a little, and couldn’t stop staring at him.
I mean, she could have warned us, right? It’s not like our family is big on surprises. Like, Dad gave Mom a surprise birthday party on her fortieth birthday, but he made sure he told her about it in advance. Get the picture?
And, of course, Doug was the 800-pound gorilla not in the room. I knew we were all thinking about Doug and how Marissa had vowed to wait for him as we stared at Aiden and tried to be casual.
You might expect Aiden to be a little uncomfortable, meeting us all for the first time, seeing that we had absolutely no warning from Marissa that she was bringing him. But he seemed totally calm, almost relaxed.
He had that little newsboy cap pulled over his curly blond hair, and he had a bit of reddish-blond scruff on his chin. He wore a black bomber jacket that looked perfectly broken in over faded jeans torn at both knees.
His eyes kind of sparkled. I know it sounds dumb but they did. They were big and dark. He had a warm, toothy smile, a soft voice, and he had this adorable little dimple in his chin.
I thought he was hot. I confess, it was like an instant attraction. I had this strong, ridiculous urge to kiss him just to see what it would be like.
Staring at him and trying not to look like I was studying him from across the room, I wondered what it was like when you were close to him. I wondered what he smelled like.
That’s totally weird, isn’t it?
And it’s not like I’m usually jealous of Marissa. I mean, I don’t have a sick thing about wanting everything she wants or trying desperately to be like her. But I had this feeling about Aiden. Love at first sight, maybe? Ha.
Marissa held his hand and told us how they’d met at a fraternity party that neither one of them had been invited to. They both crashed the party, and it gave them something to talk about when they bumped into each other. “We already had something in common!” Aiden exclaimed.
Robby laughed too hard at the story. Mom and Dad just nodded with these strange smiles frozen on their faces. I knew they were studying Aiden intensely, and they probably thought he was some kind of hipster with that hat and the beard and the tattoo creeping up his arm where his sleeves were pushed up.
Yes, I’m sure they thought he was some kind of arts major. Maybe a musician, not like good old solid Doug, who was already working in a furniture store and taking business courses—trying to make something of himself.
And then we were sitting around in the living room, drinking white wine to celebrate Marissa’s return for spring break (a special treat for Robby and me since we were still sixteen) and enjoying Mom’s great blondies. That was when Aiden revealed that he was premed and planned to be an orthopedic surgeon.
After that, my parents loosened up. Maybe that was the moment they decided to forget about Doug, too. I don’t know.
I remember that I kept thinking about Doug and wondering if Marissa had told him. And if she had told him, how?
Did she break up with him over the phone? Send a text message that said, “It’s over”? Marissa couldn’t be that cruel. I knew that for sure. But she certainly wasn’t mentioning Doug now. Maybe Aiden didn’t know about him.
So everyone was settling in, having a nice conversation. Aiden was talking about his parents in Milwaukee. They were both doctors, and that’s why Aiden was inspired to become one, too.
Robby was playing Candy Crush on his phone while we talked. He can never do one thing at a time. He always has to do at least two or three. Marissa asked me about my woodworking classes. I was actually flattered that she remembered.
“I’m really into it,” I said. I didn’t tell her that I took the class because a really hot guy named Zack was taking it, and I wanted to get to know him. Funny thing was, I quickly discovered I seriously liked working with wood—and I had a knack for it.
Zack and I hung out a few times, but we weren’t really into each other. He was too quiet and sincere for me. But I kept showing up at the woodworking class because I wanted to get really good at it.
“I’m building a cabinet in the basement,” I told Marissa. “I’ll show it to you later.”
Aiden squinted at me like I was weird or something.
“My dad has a workshop in the basement,” he said, setting down his wineglass. “Actually, it’s more like a studio. He does bronze busts of people. Very big heads.” He laughed. “He isn’t any good at it. He admits it himself. His heads are all lopsided. But it helps take his mind off his work.”
“How lopsided are they?” I asked.
“Well, they keep rolling over onto their sides,” Aiden said. “They don’t stand up.”
We were laughing about that when Nikki came in. She burst into the room, crept up behind Robby, and mussed up his hair with both hands.
“Hey—!” he cried out angrily, but then he saw who it was, and he laughed.
Nikki is all arms and legs, and
she was wearing a seriously short skirt, black and straight, and so tiny I thought it might be a belt. But she likes to show off those long legs.
She looks like a garden fairy with her white-blond hair in that undercut pixie, that pointy chin, and those enormous green eyes.
“Nikki, come meet Aiden,” Marissa said.
“Okay.” Nikki grinned and plopped down in Aiden’s lap. “Hi,” she said. Then she tugged hard on a lock of his hair until he cried out.
“Nikki,” I said. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because he’s cute,” she said. “You’re cute, aren’t you, Aiden?” She tugged his hair again, more gently this time. Then she climbed out of his lap, laughing.
“Um, nice to meet you,” Aiden said. He turned to Marissa. “Is she always like this?”
Marissa rolled her eyes and nodded.
“I have that same hat,” Nikki said, removing the hat from Aiden’s head and examining it. “Yep. I thought so. It’s a girl’s hat.”
“Nikki—” Robby started.
“But it looks good on you,” Nikki said. She handed it back to Aiden. “Are you and Marissa a thing?”
“Yes. We’re a thing,” Marissa said.
“Well, he’s adorable,” Nikki said.
“Glad you approve,” Marissa replied.
I could see that Nikki didn’t get Marissa’s sarcasm. She sat on the arm of Robby’s chair and mussed up his hair again.
The conversation turned to the Shadyside High Tigers. The basketball team went to the state finals, but lost in the first round. Then Marissa had some stories about her friends in Wisconsin.
And that’s how it went. Pretty comfortable, actually, considering there was a surprise boyfriend in the room. Everyone agreed Mom’s blondies were the best. Dad talked about how long our family had lived in Shadyside. “We were here almost since the town began. They even named a street after us.”
The seven of us were having a nice, relaxed get-to-know-Aiden chat.
A pleasant evening.
And then, two nights later, I did something crazy.
Twenty
I’ve had a long time to think about it, and I still can’t really explain why I did it. I’d like to blame it on the wine. I’d had two big glasses that night, and I’m not used to wine.
Robby and I drink beer at our friends’ houses all the time. But we never have wine. And I could really feel it. I mean, my head felt kind of feathery and the room was tilting a little bit.
But that doesn’t really explain all of it.
In the couple of weeks before Marissa came home with Aiden, I’d gone kind of crazy. I’d skipped school a few days to hang out with some older guys by the river. Just for the danger of it, I guess. Just for a little excitement.
Yeah. Excitement. Maybe what I did that night was because I wanted excitement. I mean, is there anything more boring than eleventh grade? When you’re not even old enough to drive?
Well, okay. Maybe I’m just making excuses. And there is no excuse for what I did.
The memory is still so fresh in my mind. And it comes up to haunt me no matter how I try to force it away, to push it back.
I read in a science magazine that brain scientists now know how to go into your brain and remove certain memories. Seriously. They can find the place where a memory lives in your brain and remove the cells that hold it.
If you have a sad memory that you want to lose, they can find it and remove it.
Creepy?
I don’t read a lot of science magazines, but that story seriously freaked me out. And if I could have someone go into my brain and pull out the memory of what I did that night last April, I would say, Do it. I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
I guess it started when Marissa was mean to me. It was a Saturday morning, and I slept in. When I shuffled down to breakfast, still in my nightshirt, still yawning, Marissa was waiting for me.
It wasn’t exactly an ambush, but I was only half awake, and it felt like an ambush to me. She slid the orange juice carton across the table, her expression thoughtful, like she was going over what she planned to say to me.
“Harmony, I’m having a bunch of my friends come over tonight,” she started.
I didn’t really want orange juice. I reached for the box of Frosted Mini-Wheats. “Nice,” I murmured. “From high school?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You know. Taylor and Olivia and Dani. They’re all in town. A few others from the orchestra. To meet Aiden.”
I nodded. “Cool.” I reached for the sugar. I know it’s crazy to put sugar on Frosted Mini-Wheats, but that’s the kind of person I am.
“I don’t mean to be harsh,” Marissa said slowly.
Uh-oh, I thought. She’s about to be harsh.
“But it’s my old friends and I really want them to have a chance to know Aiden and . . .” She hesitated. Her eyes locked on mine. “Maybe you could make plans of your own tonight?”
I took a breath. “You mean—”
Her cheeks flushed pink. She turned her gaze away. “Well, you’ve been hanging out with us constantly since I got home. Which is fine, of course. But . . . I’m a little worried that you don’t have friends of your own. I mean—”
“Don’t worry,” I snapped. “I have plenty of friends. I have a life, Marissa.”
“Well, you’ve been sticking so close to Aiden and me.” Her voice trembled. She had to know she was being cold. “Like . . . like moss on a tree.”
That made me laugh. “Me? I’m moss on a tree? Are you kidding me?”
“Just saying.” Marissa still didn’t meet my eyes.
I gripped the spoon but I didn’t take any cereal. I could see it getting soggy in the bowl. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you,” I said. I didn’t say it warmly. I said it as a challenge.
“I’m happy to see you, too,” Marissa murmured. “But maybe tonight you could find somewhere else to be so that my friends and I—”
I wanted to smash the cereal bowl in her face. But instead, I said, “No problem. Don’t worry about it. If I’m still at home when your friends arrive, I’ll stay in the basement. I really want to finish up my cabinet.”
Marissa pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. “Thanks. Tomorrow you and I will go somewhere, just the two of us. Maybe shopping?” Her tight smile lasted for only a few seconds.
Did she think I was a two-year-old? She seriously thought she could bribe me to stay away from her and her friends?
I dropped the spoon into the bowl, scraped my chair back, and stomped out of the room. Of course I was hurt and angry. But I was also confused. Why did she need me away from her friends? She didn’t want to hurt me, I could see that. She just wanted me to stay away.
Why?
From Aiden?
Was that it? Could she see that I was attracted to him? Did I stand too close to him, talk to him too much, laugh at his lame jokes? Enjoy myself too much while he was there?
Marissa is a very smart girl. And she’s very intuitive. She sees things. Had she seen that?
My emotions were swirling around my head. Yes, I felt hurt and angry. But I felt embarrassed, too. Embarrassed that I’d acted foolishly with Aiden. Embarrassed that Marissa could see through me so effortlessly.
So that night when Marissa’s friends began to arrive, I crept up to the secret attic room at the top of our house. I pulled out a spell book I had used before.
Yes, a spell book. I’m a Fear. Dark sides and weirdness are our birthright.
I lit the black candles I kept in a circle on the floor. And I chanted a few words, reading them carefully from the old book.
I didn’t do anything terrible or dangerous. I just gave Marissa a very bad case of hiccups.
I was careful. I used a weak spell. It would last for only an hour or so.
I admit it. I laughed to myself. I knew Marissa would try every remedy. And her friends would keep suggesting cure after ridiculous cure. And, of course, there is no cure for magic.
Back downstairs, I made sure Mom and Dad weren’t nearby. I stole a half-empty bottle of whiskey that no one would notice missing. I listened to the voices from the den. I recognized Marissa’s friends Taylor and Dani. I heard a loud hiccup. I’m so evil, it made me start laughing again.
I carried the bottle down to my basement workshop, along with my anger and my hurt and my disbelief that Marissa could treat me like that. Like some kind of mangy family pet, banished when the company was around.
The sweet smell of the cherrywood lumber usually calmed me, delighted me, and brought my senses to life. But not tonight. I took a swig right from the bottle before I started to saw a couple of shelf boards down to size.
My uncle Kenny is usually a pain. But when he heard I was into woodwork, he sent over a ten-inch table saw and a nice-sized table drill press. They were left over from the tool warehouse Kenny had owned, until he ran it into the ground like all his other businesses.
I tried to force my angry thoughts away as I moved a three-quarter-inch square of cherrywood through the saw blade. But even the whiskey didn’t seem to be helping to calm me.
I swore as my hand slipped—and I ruined one of the sheets of wood. I should have stopped right there. I knew I should have. But when you’re angry and bitter and confused and alone . . . well, you don’t always think so clearly, do you?
This is all a long preview leading up to what happened. I know I’m trying to explain myself and not doing a very good job of it. So . . .
I took a break and went upstairs, wiping sawdust off the front of my sweatshirt and jeans. I could hear Marissa and her friends in the den. They all seemed to be talking at once. Their voices rang all the way in the kitchen. I heard Marissa repeating in a high, laughing voice: “Oh my God! Oh my God!”
I crossed the hall into the kitchen—and stopped when I saw Aiden.
He had his back to me at the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer. He wore a maroon hoodie over faded jeans and, for once, he wasn’t wearing the little hat.
I stood there watching him. My head was spinning. Things were a little out of focus. Maybe I had more to drink than I remembered.
He turned when I took a few steps across the tile floor. “Oh. Hi.” He has the most awesome smile. It really is like his face lights up. “I wondered where you were, Harmony.”
