If her day hadn’t been depressing enough, it was now.
Tossing her backpack to the couch, she sat down and looked at the TV, tuned to CNN. “Did Mom give you a copy of my birth certificate? They need it at school, and I don’t have one, so I was wondering if you do.”
He didn’t answer, and she turned to look at him, noticing he seemed more red in the face than usual. “Everything okay?”
“Fine, fine. Just feeling a little under the weather today.” He glanced at her before returning to the news. “Don’t worry about the birth certificate. I’ll go by the school and square things away for you.”
“So you do have a copy?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll get it.”
She wondered why he was being so weird about it. “Thanks, Tim. The secretary also said you need to sign some stuff for me to be officially enrolled, so it’d be great if you go by.”
“Consider it done.” He cleared his throat again but didn’t say anything else.
When the silence grew awkward, she gathered up her backpack and headed for the stairs.
“I’m making chicken and rice for dinner, so be down here at six.”
“Okay.” She went to her room and started on homework, glad that Brett was at basketball practice so she could put off seeing him for a while.
When she went back down for dinner, she was ready for a showdown, but he wasn’t there. Tim said from the stove, “Looks like it’s just you, me, and Chris. Brett went over to the Easter kid’s house for dinner.”
She was almost disappointed, instead of relieved. She had wanted to see if Brett would be bold enough to stand by his lie when she confronted him about it at dinner, in front of his dad, who she was quickly learning didn’t get along with his oldest son. Chris was his obvious favorite, just as Brett was obviously Melanie’s.
On the upside, his absence meant more food, and she didn’t hesitate when Tim offered her a second chicken breast. She ate a lot of rice, and took a second slice of cake for dessert.
Chris didn’t say much, like always, but he looked at her when he said to Tim, “Kinda nice without Mom and Brett.”
“That it is,” Tim said as he lifted his bulk from the table and went back to his recliner.
That night, her dreams were once again filled with Jax, but they took a darker turn, strangely dangerous, more erotic, and she woke up blushing.
Tuesday came, and she was so glad to see him again. “Hi, Jax,” she said, standing next to his seat in English.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Hey, Sasha.” He looked like he was waiting for her to say something, but she was suddenly tongue-tied, and she walked away, to a seat at the front, as far away from Brett as she could get.
She didn’t listen when people read aloud from The Metamorphosis, dwelling instead on Jax, fighting with herself over whether she should try to talk to him, to apologize for what had happened at lunch yesterday.
By the end of class, she’d convinced herself she should say something, but when she headed toward him, he turned away and walked out with Thomas and Brody, Bubbles the Blonde hot on his heels.
Watching him leave, she realized she’d definitely burned the bridge. She felt way more sad about that than she did about being Superloser at Telluride High, although the shunning was getting to her.
At her locker after English, she heard Julianne tell her bees, “Brett says she got a backstage pass at a Kings of Leon concert and did every one of them in the dressing room.”
“Ew, gross! She’s gotta have a disease,” one said.
“She is a disease,” another said.
Brett enjoyed her misery, it was clear. She’d humiliated him in the lunchroom, and publicly announced she was a “no way” on the Ravens, so she was now subjected to nonstop insults and taunts. When she walked past him in the hall after Spanish, he said, “Hey, Internet Inga, who’re you filming with today?”
She ignored him, but her anger simmered. Just the sound of his voice made her angry. He was a murderer, a robot with no conscience, yet he was held up as some sort of demigod by most everyone at school. Even the teachers obviously adored him.
She, on the other hand, was less than dirt.
At lunch, Jax stared at her for such a long time, she thought for sure he’d come over and say something. But he didn’t. He talked to Bubbles and, when he was done eating, left the cafeteria without looking at her again.
The day just got better and better. Scott the Molester was waiting at her locker after lunch. He smiled at her, but it was more of a leer, and he didn’t hide that he was checking out her boobs. She looked closely and could swear she saw a slight shadow around his eyes. “You’re a Raven, aren’t you?”
He looked very proud. “Sure am. Too bad you won’t be joining.”
No wonder he was such a tool—he was a lost soul.
“How would you like to catch a movie up at Mountain Village?”
Waiting for the insult, she stood there and stared at him.
He lost his smile and took a step closer. “Always wanted to do it in a theater.” He added some details, not bothering to lower his voice, so everyone around heard everything he said.
Shouldering past him, she opened her locker and nailed him in the back of the head with the door. “Gosh, so sorry,” she said sweetly.
Holding his head, he glared at her at the same time he crowded her against the wall of lockers with his body. “Bitch, you really need somebody to—umph!”
Scott didn’t finish his thought on what someone should do to her. He was doubled over, holding his privates.
Sasha bent low and whispered, “I warned you not to touch me again. Back. Off.” When she straightened up, Jax was watching her, a slight smile playing around his lips. She shot a look at all the staring faces before she turned back to her locker and calmly took out her biology books.
It was harder to sit through history, not only because Brett kept throwing insults at her, but because Bruno allowed it. By the end of class, she was boiling mad. She went to her locker, anxious to get her stuff and get the hell out of the building, but drew up short when she saw that someone had stuck a sign on her locker: HOT RUSSIAN: WHORE: FREE SEX—JUST ASK.
She opened it and was loading her backpack with the books she needed when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Rose standing there, looking irritated. “Hi, Rose.”
“I’m still waiting for your birth certificate, Sasha.”
“I told my uncle, and he said he’d bring it by and sign the papers.”
“He didn’t. You need to remind him. Without proper enrollment, you can’t sit for finals.”
“I’ll remind him.” She closed the locker and noticed Rose’s eyes widen when she saw the crude sign.
“Who did this?”
“Somebody who believes my cousin’s lie about me, I guess.”
Rose looked away, clearly embarrassed.
“You’ve heard it, I’m sure.”
“Well, I did hear … something.”
“It’d really be great if you could call the headmistress at St. Michael’s and get the real story.”
“It’s not proper protocol for me to discuss something like this with another school administrator. If you were expelled from St. Michael’s, unless it was for a legal reason, it has no bearing on your enrollment here at Telluride.”
Sasha turned away from her and ripped the sign off the locker, wadded it up, and dropped it to the floor before she walked away from Miss Rose.
Back at the Shrivers’, it was a repeat of the night before, the only difference being the food. Melanie was still out of town, Brett was having dinner at East’s house, and it was just Tim, Chris, and Sasha at the table. They had pot roast, and she ate more than Chris, which might have embarrassed her at some other time in her life, but she was so down, she couldn’t really focus on much of anything except how much she missed Jax.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to forget about him. Instead, the
constant need to see him was almost overwhelming. If she knew how to get to his house, she’d take Tim’s Toyota and drive there and tell him she was sorry, she was wrong, and please, could he forgive her and like her again?
No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. He’s a son of Hell. He’s immortal. He kills people. She had to keep telling herself, over and over, and force herself to stay away from him. He’d be gone soon, and she could forget. She’d be able to move on, to lose this terrible, wonderful obsession.
Just thinking about his being gone made her nuts, made her want to run to him as fast as possible and beg him not to go, not to let her forget him.
“Sasha,” Tim said, startling her out of her reverie, “I’ve had a bit of trouble getting a copy of your birth certificate, but it should be here by tomorrow. Marin County requested a copy of my temporary guardianship papers, and they had to have those before they’d send the birth certificate.”
She was so caught up in wondering how she could lose this mania for Jax, she’d actually forgotten about Rose’s second request this afternoon. She nodded at Tim and said, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll tell Miss Rose tomorrow.”
Sleep was elusive, and she got up twice to check her e-mail, wishing she’d hear from her mother again, but there was nothing.
She finally drifted off after midnight, and her dreams were stranger than ever. She and Jax were in the woods, running from something dark and evil, something she knew could end his immortal life. She screamed for him to run faster, but the thing that chased them gained ground, and just before it caught up to them, she woke herself up, sobbing.
She dressed for school with a deep sense of dread, and the weather only added to her depression. The sky was dark, with low, heavy clouds that promised snow before the day was out.
Trudging to school with Boo, she seriously thought about ditching. She’d take some money up to the slopes and ski all day, alone, with just the mountains and trees and the solitude of the soft, quiet snow. But she couldn’t afford to miss classes if she had any prayer of passing finals. Maybe right now she couldn’t care less, but later, she knew she’d regret it.
Inside the school, she immediately knew something was up. Everyone was still downstairs in the front foyer, instead of upstairs in the high school hall. When she opened the door, they all turned to look at her and stopped talking. That’s when she noticed there were papers all over the floor—hundreds, maybe thousands, of pages of copier paper. Bending, she picked one up and saw it was a handwritten note on St. Michael’s letterhead, sent by fax.
Dear Mr._________________ (the name was blacked out),
Thank you for your note. I was terribly distressed to hear that Sasha Annenkova is having such a difficult time at her new school in Telluride. I can’t imagine what kind of mischief a student intended by spreading a blatant lie about Sasha. She was an exemplary student here at St. Michael’s, a leader, a young woman her fellow classmates admired and respected. She is sorely missed, and most certainly was not expelled. Her mother was called to Russia on important business, and Sasha went to live with family members in Telluride. This is the extent of the story, and I urge you to put matters to rights.
Warmest regards,
Doreen McAllister, Headmistress
Looking up, she scanned the faces of the students and noticed they all looked apologetic—all except for Brett, East, Julianne, and Scott.
Brett stepped up on the stairs and turned to the group. He looked right at her, unsmiling. “Pretty cute, Sasha. What’d you do, white out a letter from your old school and write a fake note, then make a billion copies?”
“Shut up, Brett,” Erin said. “The fax is dated yesterday, and it’s from a San Francisco area code. Just admit you made it all up and apologize to Sasha.”
He tried again. “She had a friend do it.”
Someone else said, “She’s your cousin, asswipe! What kind of loser tells gross lies about his own family?”
“Shriver does,” another student yelled, and the floodgates opened, people yelling and shouting at Brett, suggesting he do all sorts of things to himself. In the space of one minute, Brett Shriver went from Mr. Popular to scumbag.
Finally, Sasha found Jax’s face in the crowd. He stood at the back, taller than most, but far away, which is why she hadn’t seen him right off. She walked forward, and the other students parted to let her through. When she was just in front of him, she reached for his hand.
He turned toward the stairs and walked with her up to the high school hall. The others followed, and just as they reached the landing the bell rang, sending everyone scurrying for class.
When the hall was empty, she looked up into Jax’s wonderful face. She wanted to kiss him. “How’d you do it?”
“I had one of the Luminas hand deliver a note to her.”
“From who?”
He squeezed her hand. “James Hewitt, whose sons, Jack and Brody, are friends of yours. Mr. Hewitt was worried his children might be running around with the wrong kind of people. He sent a note and a donation for the school to Mrs. McAllister, hoping she’d be so kind as to tell him if there was any truth to the story about his sons’ new friend.”
Sasha grinned. “And she answered right away.”
“It was a very big donation.”
“And you made a zillion copies.”
“Actually, Brody did. Key’s Xerox machine freaks me out. We came up at four this morning and scattered the papers all over.”
Sasha sobered, gazing up at him. “Thank you, Jax.”
He leaned down and whispered, “Whatd’ya say we ditch English and go out for pancakes?”
She nodded, and they turned and walked back down the stairs and right out the front door; no one made any move to stop them.
They came back for second period, and the rest of the morning, Jax enjoyed every moment of what was happening to Sasha. It was as if the lie had never existed—kids talking to her, hanging around her locker, accepting her. She never strayed far from him, though, and if she looked around and didn’t see him right away, he saw a look of panic in her blue eyes.
“She’s falling for you,” Brody said after lunch, on the way to biology.
“It’s the change in her. She’s feeling weird, and I’m stability.”
“What you did was genius. Much more effective than beating the crap out of Shriver. Whatever influence he had is history.”
“Yeah, I guess, but that’s not why I did it.”
Brody gave him a cagey look. “Why did you do it?”
Watching her walking ahead of them, surrounded by the girls
who’d befriended her the first day, before Brett’s bullshit lie, he said, “She was suffering.” She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if he was there before she continued on toward biology.
“What’s next?” Brody asked.
Jax smiled at his pretend twin. “I was thinking about a moon light drive up the Mephisto Mountain.”
“That’d be nice. Or you could take her over to Jenny’s house to watch Star Trek outtakes.”
“And I suppose you’d be there, too?”
“Naturally.”
“You’re getting attached, man. Don’t do it to yourself, Brody.”
“I’m okay.”
“If it’s the damned outtakes you’re after, I’ll buy them for you.”
Brody didn’t answer, which was Jax’s first clue that his little nerdy friend was way more into Jenny Brown than was advisable.
Today, the biology teacher, Mr. Hoolihan, wasn’t at all friendly to her. Sasha was handed the day’s lab handout without even a hello. He pointed toward the back of the room and said curtly, “Sit down.”
She and Brody were assigned as lab partners, and Jax was with Thomas, who was without a lab partner since Reilly was gone. When Sasha slid onto the stool next to Brody, he leaned close and whispered, “How’re you feeling?”
“Okay, but kind of wobbly, or something.” She looked at him. “Was it weird to becom
e immortal?”
“Very weird.”
“How did you do it?”
“Just like the Mephisto. I jumped, and when I woke up, I was immortal. Some people they recruit lose faith on the way down, so when they wake up, they’re in their own bed, and they think they dreamed of falling.” Brody blinked at her from behind his dorky glasses. “Are you thinking about it, Sasha?”
She sat up straighter and shook her head. “I told Jax I don’t want to be Mephisto. I’m not even sure I want to stay Anabo.”
“I don’t understand. It’s a blessing, a gift—something so unique and rare, hardly anyone is ever born Anabo. Why would you want to give that up?”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying about being killed because of what I am.”
Class began, and Mr. Hoolihan passed out dead frogs. She’d dissected a frog just last month at St. Michael’s, so she knew what to do. Brody was staring at his frog, not making a move to touch it. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking about this frog. He was born to be a frog. If he’d had the opportunity to become, say, a turtle, or a fish, or a horse, do you think he’d have gone for it?”
“Lay off the analogy, will you? I’m not a frog, and I don’t want to be a horse. I’m a girl with a weird birthmark who’s thinking about getting rid of it.”
“Did Jax tell you how rare it is to be Anabo?”
“He said there aren’t many.”
“As far as we know, there are none. Except you. In a thousand years, the Mephisto have only ever found one other. Does that not make you think twice about giving it up?”
“I have thought about it, and it’s what I want. I’m not cut out to be Mephisto.”
“You don’t have to become Mephisto to make a difference, Sasha. Your whole life has made a difference to so many people, all because of what you are. You’re a light in the darkness, something to give people hope. Can you really give that up with a clear conscience?”
THE MEPHISTO COVENANT Page 19
