The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  He put his hand next to mine on the desk, and I paused, looking up.

  “You are amazing,” he said softly. “Smart and beautiful and talented. Where did you learn all of this?”

  Embarrassment filled me, and I looked away. “Research, mostly. I’m just some dork who needs to get another hobby.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re—” He suddenly paused and glanced back at the door. Like he had heard something I hadn’t.

  And then I heard it too.

  Someone was right outside my room.

  A halfhearted knock came, and the door opened. I leaned back, getting ready to say something to Mom, and then I saw Beth, from school.

  Here.

  At my house.

  In short shorts and a bikini.

  “Hey, Abbey,” she said brightly, all smiles. Her skin glowed like she’d just been airbrushed to perfection, and the toned gap of skin between her bathing suit top and shorts made me all too conscious of the fact that I hadn’t exactly spent my summer running track like she obviously had. “I totally called first, you know.”

  Caspian moved to the closet. I watched him go, trying not to notice if he was noticing the short shorts.

  “Hey, Beth,” I said slowly, getting to my feet. “This is … unexpected.”

  She wandered over to the bed and sat down by the pile of drawings. Flipping past the top one, she stared at the garden of flowers. “Yeah, I’m on my way to the family beach house and thought you might want to come.” Her gaze flitted over to my sling and then swung away. “I, uh, heard about the whole hospital thing. How bad was it?”

  “It’s fine. This is just overkill, really. The doctor insisted.”

  “I hate when doctors do all this bullshit stuff just to tell you you’re fine. My mom works for an insurance company, and I swear, the things she says hospitals can get away with …”

  Her fingers idly traced paths down the page in front of her. I could tell she wanted to ask me more about the attack, and I groaned inwardly at the thought. Beth was really nice, and I liked her, I did, but I totally wasn’t in the mood to go through it again.

  “Thanks for the invitation,” I said, steering the conversation off that track. “I wish I could go, but …” I held up the sling as explanation.

  Beth looked down again. She’d found the drawing of the forest. “Hey.” She sat straight up. “Hey, Abbey, these are really good. I didn’t know you were an artist.”

  “I’m not. I didn’t. I mean, they’re not mine. They’re someone else’s.”

  Beth smiled. I groaned inwardly again because I knew that smile. And it was not one I wanted to see. “Ohhhh,” she said. “Someone drew them for you? Who are you dating, girl?”

  “No one,” I said weakly, trying to laugh it off. Technically, not true. But easier than the real answer … “Hey, what ever happened to Lewis? Are you guys still together?”

  “Ugh, no.” She blew her bangs out of her face with a disgusted breath. “He got too serious for me. He kept wanting to make plans for our future, and discuss what we’d do at college. And then! Then he brought up moving in together at some, like, halfway point if we went to different schools, so we could see each other on weekends. Seriously? I mean, dude, you’re a great lay and all, but I need some variety.”

  “Um, yeah. I totally get it.” No, I don’t. I’m going to be with my boyfriend for all eternity. Talk about a commitment.

  I tried very hard not to glance at Caspian, but I couldn’t help a quick peek. His face was blank, unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was purposely keeping it that way or if he truly didn’t have any interest in what Beth was saying.

  Or wearing.

  “So, how’d he take it?”

  “He was heartbroken, of course,” Beth said, drawing my attention back to her. She walked over to my desk and picked up the bottle of oakmoss oil. Her face wrinkled as she sniffed it. “Ew. Gross. That smells like dead plants or something.”

  I laughed and took it from her. “Here.” I handed her vanilla. “Try this one.”

  Her face lit up with a blissful smile as she inhaled. “Mmmmm. Could you make me a perfume like this?”

  And just like that, my thoughts were spinning. Already working. I could add Madagascar vanilla with just a hint of butter crème, and some brown sugar to spice it up. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

  Suddenly she hugged me. “Come to the beach with me,” she urged before pulling away. “We’ll find some lifeguard hotties and get drunk under the moon at midnight. I don’t care what Lewis says. I’m young. I need to live life. Look at you, right? You don’t have some high school boyfriend hanging around your neck like a chain, and you’re fine.”

  I didn’t even know what to say. “I … Beth … I …” I shook my head.

  “Puh-lease? Come on, Abbey. It’s just for one day. Just come hang out with me for one day. That’s all I ask.”

  The problem was that, in a normal world, it was something I might have agreed to do. But now Vincent was here, and so were the Revenants, and I didn’t know what to tell Caspian … and Mom. Plus, how could I act like I was single? It wouldn’t feel right flirting with some hunky boy. I had my own hunky boy right here.

  The only trouble was, no one could see him but me.

  “I can’t, Beth,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “I’d just feel awkward with my sling, and I’m not really up to finding some guys right now, after everything that happened. Maybe next time?”

  She gave me a pouty look, but I could tell she saw that I was serious. “Okay, fine. Whatever. Just don’t go all moldy being cooped up in here, okay? Get some air.”

  “I will.”

  “And you better make me some of that vanilla perfume too.”

  I laughed. “I will. I will. I’ll bring it to you on the first day of school.”

  Beth blew me a kiss as she went out the door. “’Kay. Later, chica. I’m on my way to go find some beach hotties on my own.”

  I waited until the coast was clear, and then I shook my head as I closed the door behind her. But I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.

  “She seems nice,” Caspian said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Why didn’t you tell her about me?”

  “Riiiiiight. What was I supposed to say? ‘Yeah, sure, Beth. I’ll go with you. But there’s just this one teeny, tiny thing. See, I don’t need to find a boyfriend because I already have one. He’s just dead and therefore invisible.’”

  Caspian laughed, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why was my life so complicated?

  Chapter Four

  MIND MOJO

  Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story …

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  The next week and a half passed by quickly, and I was just getting used to having the sling on when it was time to take it off. Caspian went with me to the doctor’s office, but it was when we got home that the real surprise of the day came. Cacey and Uri were waiting there for us, standing by a car parked at the end of our driveway as Mom pulled up.

  They were both dressed in khaki pants and business shirts—outfits similar to what they’d been wearing when they’d come to my room right after Vincent had been there. But Cacey’s blond hair was blue at the bottom.

  “Surprise!” Cacey said when Mom turned the car off. “We thought we’d come see you.”

  Mom, of course, was thrilled to see my new friends. “Well, hi! How nice of you two to stop by. Aren’t you working today?”

  Cacey shook her head. “Kame suggested that we come talk to Abbey to see if she wants to join the intern program at the real estate office with us. It’s such a fantastic experience. We’re sure she’d be great at it. There’s nothing more valuable than learning the lesson of hard work!”

  Trying to keep a straight face through Cacey’s BS was becoming a monumental task. Real estate interns … Yeah, right. How long was she going to keep this act up? It didn�
��t help matters when she started winking at Caspian.

  Mom must have noticed the winking, because she asked Cacey, “Are you okay?”

  “I think I have something in my eye.” Cacey winked again and then grinned unabashedly. “So, do you want to come with us, Abbey? We’re heading over to the office now, and you can see what we do. Learn more about the program.” She stretched out the word “program” into two long syllables.

  Mom glanced at me, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Cacey nod her head once. I followed suit. “Okay …”

  Mom’s smile couldn’t have gotten any bigger. Clearly she was pleased by my “initiative.”

  It’s not real, I wanted to tell her. They aren’t really interns, and Kame and Sophie aren’t real estate agents.

  But the less she knew, the better.

  “We’ll have her back by dinner, Mrs. Browning,” Cacey called, directing me to the backseat of their car. Uri said something to Mom to distract her, and Cacey motioned for Caspian to get in too. He slid in next to me, and I shut the door.

  “What are we getting ourselves into?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. But it must be important for them to come get us like this.”

  Cacey got in the front passenger seat and pulled down the mirror, checking out her blue-tipped hair. “I know. I know,” she said, almost to herself. “That was laying it on thick. ‘The value of hard work.’ Ha! But I get so caught up in this little drama. I just love it.”

  “What’s up with the whole pretending to be an intern thing?” I asked. “And the outfits?”

  “Just playing a role. It’s better for us to fit in when we can.” She smiled at me, and I had the distinct impression of a shark eyeing its prey. Her clear, gray eyes were wide and focused. The faintest scent of smoke, or burning leaves, filled the car, and then it was gone. I felt a rash of goose bumps run up and down my arms.

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of creepy?” I said suddenly.

  She burst out laughing. “Yeah. I am. Thanks for noticing.” Preening, like I’d just offered her a compliment instead of an insult, she patted her hair and air-kissed the mirror.

  Uri came over to the car and got in. “Hi, Abbey.” His smile was genuine and friendly, his voice smooth like chocolate. He slammed the door shut. “Caspian.”

  Caspian nodded back, and I wondered if this was it. Were they here to take me to my everlasting reward in a … “Hey, is this a Jetta?” I asked.

  “Yup.” Uri kept his eyes on the road and pulled out of the driveway.

  “Nice, right?” Cacey said. “Totally better than some of the other rides we’ve had. Do you have any idea how long a Volkswagen bus can continue to run? Even when the floorboards are rotting out and the dash is falling to pieces and the whole thing smells like a Sunday school nursery class?” She shuddered.

  “Well, it’s no sweet chariot,” I replied, and grinned at Caspian.

  He didn’t seem to get it.

  Or maybe he did, because he frowned.

  “Are we supposed to be impressed by your ability to remember church hymns?” Cacey asked. “Ooh, do you know one called ‘Amazing Grace’?” she deadpanned.

  Heat bloomed in my ears. “No. I meant ‘swing low, sweet chariot.’ Like the song? Aren’t you guys ‘coming forth to carry me home’ and all that? Aren’t we, you know … Going? To my next destination? A long drop and a short stop?”

  Cacey laughed, and it rang through the car like the clear high-pitched peal of a bell. “Dramatic much, Abbey? We’re just going to get some lunch.”

  I sat back and looked morosely out the window, feeling duly chastised. Highway blacktop rushed up to meet us, and the single lane became two. I felt a slow flare of sensation in my knee and looked down. Caspian was trying to nudge it.

  He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I thought it was pretty clever,” he leaned over to whisper. “The whole ‘sweet chariot’ thing.”

  “Good-looking and loyal,” I whispered back. “You’re a deadly combination.”

  “Deadly.” … Good going there, Abbey.

  But if he noticed my poor choice of words, he didn’t let on.

  “Hey, you two,” Cacey said. “This isn’t secret time. Do you want to share with the rest of the class?”

  “No.” I crossed my arms.

  “Fine. It’s rude, but whatever.”

  Cacey was calling me rude? The same person who had drunk all of her soda in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to share any of it when I was in the hospital and practically dying of thirst, and who had a snarky reply whenever someone asked her something, was calling me rude?

  I was about to launch into it, when all of a sudden Caspian leaned forward and said loudly, “So, Uri, about that Volkswagen bus …”

  Instantly the tension in the car broke, and I laughed.

  “Loyal, good-looking, and smart,” I said to him. “But you already knew that.”

  Uri grinned and switched lanes. “It was a 1951 VW bus, and it was a beast. Already going on forty years old when we, uh, acquired it. It had some interesting history.”

  “It was a crap-mobile,” Cacey said. “With pleather seats and orange shag carpeting. I swear it had to have once been a traveling sideshow circus car or something.”

  “Do you remember the mummified mouse?” Uri asked her.

  “Yup. Stuck between the seats.”

  “What? Ew. No way,” I said.

  “True story,” Cacey replied. “Someone had actually taken the time to mummify this thing.”

  “How could you tell?” Caspian interrupted. “Couldn’t it just have been a really old dead mouse?”

  Cacey tapped her mouth. “The lips. They were sewn shut.”

  “God, Cacey!” Nausea roiled through me, and I wanted to barf at the thought of seeing some poor little mouse that way. “That’s just insane.”

  “Do mice even have lips?” Caspian mused. Uri laughed, and they shared a grin.

  “Moving on,” I said.

  But Cacey obviously didn’t want to move on. “Its little fingers had been pushed apart. Splayed open, instead of curled shut.” She mimicked it with both hands. “And the eyeballs—”

  “I’m not going to be able to eat lunch,” I warned her.

  “Then there was the tooth,” she said.

  “Do I even want to know about the tooth?” I groaned, and then promptly answered myself. “No. No, I do not.”

  “… on a key chain,” Uri filled in.

  “Lost baby tooth?” Caspian suggested. “A family memento?”

  “Molar,” Cacey and Uri both said at the same time.

  “Must have been pried right out of someone’s mouth with something blunt, because the ends were all damaged and jagged,” Uri supplied. “The bus came from a junkyard in West Virginia. Crazy-ass place. Who knows what happened there.”

  Cacey laughed delightedly, and I shook my head at her. She saw me and stopped, but grinned at Uri. “Abbey thinks I’m creepy. She told me when she got into the car.”

  Something passed between them—more than just a look—and I got the impression there were silent words being spoken. “She’s right,” he said. And then he put a hand on her knee. “You are creepy.”

  Uri directed his next words to me and Caspian. “She totally gets off on this stuff. I don’t know why.” He shook his head bemusedly at her, someone who had obviously been putting up with his partner’s peculiarities for a long time and didn’t mind doing it.

  “Why didn’t you just get a new car if that one was so awful?” I asked.

  “Ooh! We’re here!” Cacey squealed. A restaurant called the Pink Peppercorn came into view, and we pulled into the parking lot. “First we go get a seat. Then I’ll tell you why about the car. Deal?”

  I nodded, but she was already climbing out.

  “Wait until I’ve stopped the car,” Uri admonished.

  She did. But barely.

  I got out and kept the door open long enough for Caspian to get
out too. “Are we going to be okay going in?” I said softly to Uri, nodding my head at Caspian and then Cacey. “I mean, all of us?”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said.

  Cacey heard my question. “He doesn’t eat much, right? Because it’s going to be embarrassing trying to explain his order.”

  “I don’t—,” Caspian said.

  “I know! I know!” She laughed. “I’m just teasing. Lighten up. It’ll be fine. Come on.”

  I glanced at Uri. “It will be fine,” he said again, ushering us to the door. “She’ll behave.”

  Doubtfully, I followed behind them as Caspian brought up the rear. When we got inside, Cacey flagged down a waiter, and he seated us right away in a large booth. The interior of the restaurant was decorated in pale pinks and grays, with tiny hints of black. It had a smooth 1920s vibe to it.

  “How’d you get service so fast?” I asked Cacey, settling in next to the space where Caspian was.

  “It’s the mind mojo,” she said absentmindedly, poring over the menu. “Works every time.”

  “Mind mojo?” I asked. “What’s that?”

  She pointed to the extensive listing in front of her. “Choose what you want to eat. Then talk. When he comes back, I want to give him our order. I’m starving.”

  I perused the list. It looked like the Pink Peppercorn was strictly vegan fare. I’d never been to a vegan restaurant before. “Where’s just plain breakfast?” I asked. “That should be safe enough.”

  Cacey flipped the menu and pointed to the back.

  “I guess I’ll take the tofu scramble,” I said after a minute. “Spinach, soy cheese, asparagus, and shiitake mushrooms with home fries doesn’t sound too bad.”