by Patti Larsen
My respect for her notched up, big time.
Suzanne starting circling, her zombie girls following suit. It made Alison, dressed in her school colors, look like the sole survivor of a tragic cheerleader accident.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Suzanne hissed. “Thought you’d been too chicken to take your medicine.”
Alison’s head went up, shoulders back. “You invited me, Suzanne,” she said. “So I came.”
“You didn’t really think you were welcome to the party,” Suzanne faked shock. “Did you?”
“You told me to come,” Alison said.
“To bring back your uniform,” Suzanne corrected, in her face so closely I’m sure Alison was having trouble focusing on the other girl’s eyes.
“I brought it,” Alison said.
“You weren’t supposed to be wearing it,” Suzanne flicked her hand across Alison’s sleeve. “You were supposed to return it so we could burn it.”
The cheerleaders snickered while the rest of the party guests made a quiet and rapid retreat as far away from the action as possible without drawing attention. They needn’t have worried. No one looked at anyone but the newest fallen angel.
“I guess I misunderstood,” Alison said. No one believed her.
“You can’t leave with that uniform,” Suzanne snarled from between clenched teeth. “I won’t allow it.”
Alison frowned for the first time. “What are you going to do, Suzanne?” She half-laughed. “Take it off of me?”
I knew then, even if Alison didn’t, she made a terrible mistake giving Suzanne that kind of idea.
“As a matter of fact…” Suzanne’s voice trailed off as she backed up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She snapped her fingers at one of her girls. The cheerleader stepped forward.
Suzanne examined Alison from top to bottom.
“I think your uniform is missing something.”
As if on cue, the other girl threw a glass of red punch at Alison. It soaked through her sweater, dripping down the front of her short skirt, fat crystal drops gathering at the hem to fall in almost slow motion to the growing puddle on the floor at her feet.
I fought off my demon and made a move, but a strong hand held me back. Brad shook his head.
Suzanne went on, oblivious to me.
“It just doesn’t suit you anymore, Alison.”
Another girl stepped up, taking her place next to the first.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Alison seemed to recognize she created a very dangerous monster in Suzanne. Her eyes flickered to me. I pulled against Brad. He refused to let me go.
The two girls stepped forward. Each grabbed a handful of Alison’s skirt.
“You’re not one of us anymore,” Suzanne said.
The cheerleaders pulled. The whole room gasped. I saw Alison struggle, try to get away. The crowd screamed, some chanting to get her, some horrified at what they witnessed. It took me a moment to accept I was one of them.
Alison’s struggles only made things worse. With great, heavy rending sounds, the material of her skirt tore and gave way, the violence of the assault jerking her almost off of her feet as she was hauled at from every direction. I could see the tears on her face and hear her broken sobs but didn’t have the power in that horrible instant to free myself from Brad and help her.
I will always regret it.
Her skirt fell away. She staggered to her knees. I lost sight of her as the cheerleaders surrounded her crumpled form and finished the job, the sound of her sweater ripping apart more appalling than flesh being torn from the bone.
Finally, it was done. The panting pack of vengeance backed away, clutching bits and pieces of the destroyed uniform in their hands. To my horror, I noticed one of them was Page, her beautiful face masked with hideous satisfaction. Alison huddled on the cold tile floor, face streaked in tears, skin red and bruising where the mob pulled on her clothes. She pulled herself to her feet and was left standing there, with only a tiny tank top and a pair of boy shorts covering her.
She straightened, brushing tears from her cheeks, her sobs silenced, and did the most amazing thing I have ever seen anyone do ever.
Alison straightened her shoulders and stared Suzanne down.
I pushed forward, freeing myself from Brad, furious every other person in the crowd did nothing to help her, but angrier with myself I let Brad stop me in the first place.
I reached the circle of humiliation in time to offer Alison my huge, sparkly witch shawl. She took it with a gracious smile, back straight, brave face on. Her torn uniform lay scattered around her, parts of it still in the hands of some of the girls who were truly evil standing there in a vicious pack.
I spun on Suzanne, furious. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Suzanne backed up a step but her nasty expression didn’t change.
“Stay out of this, Syd,” she snarled.
“Or what?” I closed the distance between us. “You’ll do this to me?”
She glared at me. “Maybe,” she hissed.
“Try it,” I growled back. “I won’t stand here and take it.”
I turned back to Alison who watched me with a softly hopeful, brittle expression making my heart break. She wrapped the shawl more tightly around herself, gathering it and what was left of her dignity around her. I pushed my way through the crowd, leading her to the door. I jerked it open. She walked though, a thankful expression on her face. She disappeared outside as I turned back. My eyes fell on Brad and I knew he was as hurt as I was about it but just too weak to act.
Fine. I could handle it on my own, thank you very much.
“You people make me sick,” I snapped.
My lessons forgotten in my anger, my shields failed and my demon took me literally.
As I slammed the door behind me, I heard the horrific sound of almost a hundred kids being overwhelmed with a violent case of food poisoning.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
I paused on the front step, horrified at what I did but at the same time unwilling to reverse it. I may not have planned it, but it seemed a fitting punishment for such disgusting people.
Knowing I myself would be punished by the coven, I slumped my way down the driveway to the street, dragging my feet as I headed home.
To my surprise, I stumbled on Alison. She sat on the curb with the borrowed shawl wrapped around her, staring blankly out into the street. I stopped, not sure what to do but unwilling to leave her there alone.
I took a seat next to her, hugging my knees, discarding the hat to one side.
“Thanks,” she said.
“My pleasure,” I answered. “I just wish…”
“What?” She toyed with the laces of her red stained sneakers, once pristine white.
“That I reached you sooner. Before they… you know.”
She hugged the shawl to her. “It’s tradition. I was expecting it.”
“What?” How horrible was that?
“Well,” she said, “not quite that way. But when you are kicked off the squad, you have to give your uniform back. The girls usually make a big deal of it. But I think I’m the first to be publicly stripped.”
She gazed off down the street as she spoke. I knew it was because if she looked at me while she said it, her resolve would break and she would burst into tears. How did I know? Because I would have.
I shook my head in disbelief. It made me sick.
“Sorry,” I said, “but I still wouldn’t have done what you did.”
“I know,” she said. “Pretty stupid, huh? I thought I could be, you know, tough about it, like I didn’t care.”
“I think they got that,” I said.
She laughed bitterly. “You probably would have destroyed it yourself and left it in her mailbox or something, wouldn’t you?”
“Or something,” I muttered, thinking far darker thoughts. Like a midnight visit from a scary demon or two for Miss Suzanne and her bitch squad.
“It’s okay,” Alison s
aid. “I really did deserve it, Syd.”
“No one deserves that,” I argued. “No one.”
“I guess not,” she said.
“Would you have done it?” I challenged her.
She blushed but didn’t turn away.
Wow.
“The old me,” was her answer. “Thanks to you, I’ve turned over a whole new leaf. My mom hates it,” she giggled. “Not that she’s around much, but she doesn’t know what to do with me now.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of going through the same thing with my mom,” I said.
“Well, I guess I’ll go home.” She didn’t seem very happy at the prospect. To be honest, neither was I. How was I going to explain this? I watched a couple of little kids decked out as super heroes wander across the street in their costumes. I wondered if Meira was having fun.
“Well, I can’t go home yet,” I answered.
“I hope I didn’t get you into trouble,” Alison said.
“Not exactly,” I winced a little. “It’s just… there’ll be the questioning and the meddling and the grilling and after that the third degree, and I’m not in the mood at the moment.”
Alison laughed. “Lucky you,” she said.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
She shook her head and rested her chin on her knees. “I wish,” she said so softly I had to lean in to hear her. “There’s no one at my house.”
In a flash of insight, I knew exactly why Alison was the way she was. I felt a huge rush of regret for her. I struggled my whole life against the enveloping pressure of my family, feeling smothered and overwhelmed they wanted to be the center of my life.
Alison was my opposite. I could barely imagine it.
Two more kids found their way down the street. I had an idea.
“Let’s go trick-or-treating,” I said.
Alison made a face as she gestured to what was left of her clothes.
“Syd, seriously,” she said. “Who am I going as? A stripper?”
We both laughed at that.
“I’m wearing about six layers of stuff here,” I said, getting to my feet. “I’m sure we can share.”
A sparkle I had never seen before lit her eyes. She stood up, still smiling.
“Let’s do it.”
We ended up in the bushes in front of Suzanne’s house. The giggling commenced immediately. Two scarves made a nice skirt for her while a glittery pink shawl tied up into a nice shirt. Another scarf made a jaunty kerchief. In the end we looked more like a couple of sparkly bag ladies, but the hat was a perfect candy holder and it was good enough for us.
As we emerged, we dodged an ambulance roaring around the corner. It squealed to a halt at Suzanne’s driveway before pulling in. I could hear the distant sounds of puking and winced.
Alison frowned at the ambulance.
“What’s going on?”
I tried to be nonchalant while my stomach flipped over in sympathy. “Maybe someone was sick from the punch?”
I hurried her away, partly to keep her from seeing what I did and partly so I wouldn’t have to witness it myself. My imagination was bad enough.
Man, I wouldn’t want that cleaning bill.
Alison and I giggled and strutted our way through the whole neighborhood, ringing doorbells and squealing, “Trick-or-Treat!” like a couple of six-year-olds. I had never in my life had so much fun. I think from the expression on Alison’s face she hadn’t either.
By the time we hit the last house in full dark, I had my first real friend ever. I was glad things turned out the way they did in the end. Being with Alison, laughing and carrying on like a normal teenager, I managed to forget everything that was happening, had happened, and just be Syd.
As we reached the end of the driveway at the last house on the block, I peered into the overflowing hat at the huge pile of treats.
“Wow,” I said. “Meira’s going to love this.”
Alison rigged a hammock for her treats out of a scarf. It was also way too full and threatened to dump candy on the ground every time she took a step.
“Then here,” she offered me her haul. “Give her these too.”
I shook my head as she did her best to tie up the bundle and hand it to me.
“No way,” I said. “You earned those fair and square.”
She smiled at me, open and happy. “I don’t need them, Syd. I already had my treats.”
I took the scarf, knowing exactly what she meant.
I felt a brush of familiar power. Uncle Frank waited on the corner, leaning against a tree, grinning. I ran to him, relief pouring through me. I hugged him hard, ignoring the stray treats hitting the ground as I juggled the bag, the hat and Uncle Frank.
He hugged me too. When he leaned back, there was unspoken gratitude in his eyes.
“Uncle Frank!” I said. “You’re okay!”
He smiled, but his gaze went to Alison. It was only then I remembered we weren’t alone.
“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing me on the forehead, voice only loud enough for me to hear, “because of you. Thank you, Syd.”
“Any time,” I whispered back.
I turned to Alison and waved her forward. She joined us, a little shy.
“Alison,” I said, “This is Frank Hayle, my uncle. Uncle Frank, Alison Morgan.”
Uncle Frank’s eyebrows raised but he greeted Alison kindly. I noticed his color was normal, his body warm. He had already eaten, thank goodness, or she would probably have run from him, screaming.
“Nice to meet you, Alison,” he said.
“You too,” she dimpled.
“I thought you went to a party?” Uncle Frank looked back and forth between us. When his eyes hit mine I knew, knew, he knew what I did. My heart fell.
Crap.
“We decided to go trick or treating,” Alison said. “Syd’s idea.”
“Really,” Uncle Frank said. “Looks like a successful night.”
I lowered my gaze to my hands full of candy. Alison answered.
“You bet! Way fun, right, Syd?”
“Yeah, way,” I said.
“We should probably get you home, Syd,” Uncle Frank said. “Your mom will want to hear all about it.”
His eyes were unreadable.
“I guess,” I said. I turned to Alison. She looked at me funny. I winked at her. Her face softened.
“Did I get you in trouble?” She whispered as she came close enough to hug me goodbye.
“No,” I whispered back, “I managed to do that all by myself.”
She hugged me hard and let me go.
“I’ll get these things back to you,” she said.
“No hurry,” I answered.
“Thanks, Syd,” she said. “For being there for me. For suggesting this,” she laughed as she gestured to her costume. “For everything.”
Despite what I was about to face at home, knowing I not only helped Alison but made a friend, made everything I did so worth it.
***
Chapter Twenty Four
I waved at Alison as she walked away before turning back to Uncle Frank. He held out his arm, formally. I shifted the candy haul enough so I could link up with him for the walk home.
That act alone eased some of my concern. If he was really mad at me, and he was never mad at me, he wouldn’t be so casual about it. I relaxed and sighed away some of my tension.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad you are, too. Did Mom tell you Sassy’s missing?”
Frank’s eyes scanned the street as we walked. I wondered if it was a vampire thing or if he was being cautious after everything that happened.
“I’m sorry, kiddo. But don’t count him out,” he said. “He’s been around a long time. You never know with Sassafras.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a little better. “For all we know, he could be shielding himself to stay safe, right?”
“Anything is possible,” Frank said. “Even the weirdest things. Like, say, a
whole houseful of kids getting food poisoning all at the same time. That’s weird. Don’t you think that’s weird, Syd?”
I tried to swallow, my throat dry. “It could happen,” I said.
“Yup, you’re right,” he said. “It could.”
Uncle Frank started to snicker. His merriment grew, laughter getting louder and harder until we had to stop because he was clutching his sides and wiping tears from his face, barely able to breathe. I smiled a little at first, tentative. I started to laugh too as the tension of what I did ran out of me, leaving behind the absurd mental image of all those kids puking their guts out all over Suzanne’s beautiful house.
Uncle Frank and I laughed together. Finally, eyes sparkling from unshed tears and good humor, he grabbed me and hugged me hard enough I felt his power but wasn’t in any danger of being hurt.
“Oh, Syd,” he said, mirth still in his voice. “What are we going to do with you?”
I shrugged in his arms, face pressed into his chest. “I’m sorry, Uncle Frank,” I said.
He pulled back. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Did you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just…”
“Just?” He turned me and we started walking again.
Now knowing I could safely confess everything, eternally grateful to whoever gave me my Uncle Frank as a confidant, I poured it all out to him, from the bullying, to the confrontation with Alison, right up to everything that happened at Suzanne’s. By the time I finished, Uncle Frank was angry, but I knew it wasn’t at me.
“Syd,” he said, “if you tell your mother I said this, I’ll deny it, but good for you.”
What? First rule, biggest rule, was never use your powers against normals unless your life was in danger. Was Uncle Frank really congratulating me?
“Don’t get me wrong,” he went on, “I don’t agree with what you did. But, damn it, Syd, I wouldn’t have been able put up with it. And I’m glad you stood up for your friend. Despite everything, she seems nice. I think you’re a good influence on her.”
