Instead, I swallow and ask, “Do you know where Leela lives?”
“I have a general idea.” His eyes meets mine and a thousand questions scroll through my mind. Is he annoyed with Pete? Does he regret his offer to go to the party? Or worse, does he regret our cover story? “Want to punch in her address?”
I plug it in and clasp my hands in my lap, wishing away the clamminess.
The lady in the GPS tells Luka to take a left hand turn.
My leg jiggles. I’m eager to get to Leela’s. Perhaps she and her little sister, Kiara, will dispel the growing tension in the car.
GPS lady tells him to make another left.
Luka makes a point of catching my attention and winks, as if to reassure me that everything is okay. Or will be okay. It’s a simple gesture, but it does wonders to soothe my jumpy nerves.
Eight minutes later, we’re idling in front of a ranch home with a small, tidy lawn. As soon as the headlights hit the house, Leela comes out, followed by a smaller version of herself—Kiara, a freshman.
Leela stops midstride, her mouth a perfect oval and Kiara runs into the back of her. I can practically read Leela’s thoughts. I never told her I was coming to pick her up in Luka’s car. In fact, I didn’t tell her Luka was coming at all. To her credit, she recovers quickly and the two hurry toward us. Leela opens the back door first, her eyes bright, a black triangle painted on her nose, whiskers on her cheeks. The second she catches sight of Pete, her face floods with color. I give my brother my best death stare over the seat.
Be nice.
If he sees it, he doesn’t react.
Kiara dances behind her. “Get in, Leels. I’m freezing!”
Leela hesitates for a moment, then climbs in, careful to keep a nice gap between her leg and Pete’s, squishing poor Kiara against the window.
“Hi Pete,” Leela squeaks. She clears her throat. “Where’s your costume?”
He smiles wide, showcasing his fluorescent yellow vampire teeth.
Kiara gives Leela a sisterly shove with her shoulder. “Be careful, Leela, he might bite you.”
It doesn’t seem possible, but Leela’s face grows a deeper shade of red.
“Where are your ears, Tess?” Kiara asks.
“And your whiskers?” Leela adds.
Luka reverses out of the drive and raises his eyebrows teasingly. “Yeah, Tess, where are your whiskers?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Halloween Party
Bobbi lives out in the country. The sound of music and laughter grows louder as we approach her house. Luka walks so close to my side our knuckles brush.
Cover up, cover up, cover up. This is all a cover up. Whatever connection we share is a natural byproduct of the crazy things we both see. Assuming anything else is only setting up my poor heart for some significant aches and pains.
“You okay?” His question tickles my ear.
I bob my head.
He presses his hand against my back. Even through the sweatshirt, I can feel the heat of his palm. I close my eyes. This is all just part of the act, Tess.
“If things get claustrophobic,” he whispers as we step onto Bobbi’s front stoop, “we can slip out and go for a walk.”
I swallow, unsure what is more frightening—walking in the woods on the eve of Halloween, or being alone with him. Leela and Kiara step onto the stoop with us as Luka jabs the doorbell with his thumb. Two seconds later the Bride of Frankenstein answers, letting the sounds of the party escape into the night. The bass thumps through my chest. Bobbi wears a floor-length white gown that shows off her figure, a black beehive wig with streaks of gray, and a choker with neck bolts. Just like Luka in his cowboy getup, she looks amazing. Not at all ridiculous.
“You came!” She flings her arms around Luka, then Leela and Kiara and even me. She points at Pete, her smile one hundred percent genuine. “You’re Tess’s little brother. I’m so glad you’re here!”
Pete gives her a dismissive nod, then slinks past her into the party. I’m half annoyed, half grudgingly admiring. I would never have the guts to leave the safety of the group I came with to venture into a party by myself, especially friendless.
Bobbi opens the door wider and yells over the din, “Come on in!”
We step inside to a mob of monsters and witches and angels and superheroes, dancing and mingling in groups, most holding red plastic cups. I spot Matt in the crowd, dressed as Frankenstein, of course, and beside him Jared wears his football jersey. They stand by a keg in the corner.
“Make yourself at home,” Bobbi says. “Keg’s over there—but I’ll warn you now, it’s just Root Beer.”
I exhale. A little too audibly.
Bobbi flashes me such a warm smile that I’m reminded of her relation to Leela. “Don’t worry, Tess. My dad’s the chief of police in Thornsdale. He would have me shipped off to boarding school if I threw a party with any type of illegal shenanigans. Both of my parents are upstairs.” She points toward the kitchen. “Food’s in there. Fire pit’s in the back yard, where it’s not so loud. People are actually bobbing for apples on the deck. Not my idea.”
The doorbell rings again.
“You guys have fun!” Bobbi turns away from our small group and flings open the door, the perfect hostess.
Luka leans toward my ear. “You hungry?”
I’m not, but I nod anyway, eager to get out of the foyer. He laces his fingers with mine and my palm catches fire as he pulls me through the crowd. I look over my shoulder, motioning for Kiara and Leela to follow.
A smaller group of guys exit the kitchen as we enter. They slap Luka’s free hand a high-five, eyeing me as they pass. Party food fills an entire counter—M&M’s, chips, licorice, Candy corn. A large, opened cooler sits on the tile floor filled with ice, water bottles, Dr. Pepper, and Red Bull.
“I’m gonna go find my friends.” Kiara grabs a handful of M&M’s, pops a few of the candies in her mouth, and leaves.
Leela turns to me. “You have to wear your cat ears.”
Luka pulls out the headband from my pocket. “I agree.”
“I’d rather be Goth girl.”
My protest must not be very convincing, because Luka fits the ears on my head. “You make a very cute cat.”
His words steal my breath. So do his eyes.
“Aw. Are we interrupting a romantic moment?”
I blink and turn around. Summer stands in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing devil horns, a skimpy red dress, and an ugly sneer. “How cute. Two little kittens.” Her eyes rove over Leela. “Well, one’s little anyway.”
Leela’s cheeks go bright red.
I glare at Summer, a slow burn of fury working its way through my blood stream. I hate her for that comment. “And you’re the devil,” I say. “How fitting.”
Luka coughs. I can’t tell if it’s an actual cough, or if he’s covering up a laugh.
Summer’s eyes flash, but then she struts into the kitchen. Jared trails behind her like a pathetic, lovesick puppy. She cracks open two Dr. Peppers and pours the soda into her cup, Jared’s, and an unused one from the stack. She reaches behind Jared, pulls a flask from his back pocket, jiggles it in the air with a wicked grin, then puts her finger to her lips. “We brought the party,” she whispers, mixing in a generous amount with the Dr. Pepper. Judging by the flush in her cheeks, this isn’t her first drink.
She holds out the cup to Luka.
He rests his arm behind me on the counter. “I’m good.”
She turns to me.
I shake my head.
“More for us then.” She raises her cup to Jared. He taps his against it and takes a long drink.
“Looks like Jennalee’s having fun with your brother on that couch over there,” Summer says when she’s done drinking.
I glance out into the living room. Pete lounges back on one of the cushions with his red cup of Root Beer, talking very intimately with Jennalee, who’s dressed like a slutty nurse—almost as cliché as Summer. Their heads ar
e bent close and whatever Pete says, Jennalee listens with rapt attention. I want to walk over and tear him away, especially when I catch Leela looking much more like a wilted flower than a kitten without her mittens.
“All sorts of unlikely people are getting together these days.” Summer shrugs, like her words mean nothing, then leaves the room with Jared. I watch her and her legs and her gorgeous pout leave the room before pinning my gaze on Pete.
“That was pleasant,” Luka says.
Jennalee stands and makes her way toward a crowd by the stereo. She whispers something to them. A few scan the party, then catch sight of me in the kitchen with Luka, their expressions openly curious, Jennalee’s triumphant. The heat in my bloodstream gathers and swirls. I leave the kitchen and stalk through the bodies and don’t stop until I’m standing in front of Pete. “What did you tell Jennalee?”
He looks up at me. “You and Mom want me to socialize. That was me socializing.”
“Pete.” I grind his name through my teeth.
He shoves off from the couch and brushes past. I want to stomp my foot, then go after him and force him to have a conversation. Enough ignoring the issue. If Pete’s still upset about our move, it’s time we hash things out. He’s acting like a passive-aggressive teenage girl, which is so far from the Pete I know that my confusion almost drowns out my anger. As I stare after him, my attention snags on Jennalee. She tilts her head back and laughs with a new group of classmates. My uneasiness grows. I take a step back, as if doing so might make me shrink, or maybe disappear. Instead, I run into something hard. It’s Luka. Leela stands behind him. The moisture in her eyes exacerbates my anger. Leela has been looking forward to this party for days and now because of a witch named Summer and an idiot names Pete, it’s turning into a miserable night.
“What was that about?” Luka asks.
“I’m not sure.” I narrow my eyes at Jennalee, unable to shake the feeling that she is talking about me. Great. So now, along with psychosis, I can add paranoia to the list.
Luka steps into my line of vision. “How about we get some air.”
I look at Leela. “Wanna come?”
She glances from me to Luka, her chin wobbling. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”
“Leela, you aren’t a third wheel.”
“I should probably go check on Kiara, anyway.” She gives me a weak smile, then turns around and walks away with deflated shoulders.
I watch her go, cursing my brother. Why can’t he see what an awesome catch Leela would be? Why do guys always go for the pretty face and the lithe body, oblivious to the ugliness inside? Luka takes my hand and maneuvers through the clumps of dancing, talking bodies while my nerves hop and tumble and skip. Some girls notice us, their attention flickering to our linked hands. Others don’t. They go about as normal—laughing, playfully shoving, teasing, making eyes with the boys. Any sliver of confidence I might have had dissipates. Because I will never be like them. I will never be a part of this. I have no idea how to flirt. It’s absolutely not in my DNA.
Luka guides me out the back door, where classmates hoot and holler and dunk their faces into a tub of water and apples. He leads us past the fire pit where several teenagers roast marshmallows and hotdogs. A girl in my Study Hall shrieks and runs away from a boy who holds something. A bug, maybe? My breath escapes in small white puffs as Luka brings me closer to the woods behind Bobbi’s home and releases my hand.
I scold myself for feeling disappointed. There’s no reason for him to continue the charade, not when nobody’s around to see. Of course he would let go.
“There are some pretty cool paths through here,” he says, stepping beneath the cover of the trees. A full moon shines overhead. Tree limbs break apart the light so that only parts of the path are visible. I keep my eyes trained on the ground, on the lookout for jutting roots or rocks. The last thing I need to do is trip and fall in front of Luka.
“Care to share what you’re thinking,” he says.
The pale moon illuminates half of his face. Night shadows the other half. It’s a darkness I’m thankful for. Because it hides the heat rising in my cheeks. There is no way I’m going to tell him that I’m thinking about my lack of know-how in the flirting department. Or that my hand feels much too cold apart from his.
He sticks his hands in his pockets. “I can never tell.”
I step over a stray branch and settle on a half-truth. Something I’m only partially thinking. “I feel bad for Leela.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she’s in love with my brother and he’s being a total jerk.” Dread puckers my insides when I think about the way Pete and Jennalee were talking on the couch. What could he have possibly told her to make her look at me with such unbridled interest?
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else are you thinking?”
“I really don’t like Jennalee.”
He laughs. “That’s refreshing.”
“What is?”
“You. Your honesty.”
“I don’t like Summer either.” I think about her mean remark to Leela. Don’t like is too tame. When it comes to Summer, I pretty much loathe her.
“A lot of girls pretend to like them.” We take a few more steps, twigs snapping beneath our feet. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why did your brother want to come tonight?”
“He didn’t.”
“So why did he?”
“It was between this, or sitting in the living room with my mom and dad.”
“Why’s that?”
“I told my parents he was hanging out with Wren and Jess. I may have implied that he’s doing drugs.” The moon glints off a spider web dangling over the path. I bat it aside and keep walking. “All he does is lock himself in his room. He never used to be that way.”
“What did he used to be like?”
“Reluctantly popular.” I glance at Luka. “Kinda like you.”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know. He sort of had a girlfriend in Jude. He blames me for moving.”
“Right. You said that before. The first time we talked, but you covered it up.”
“It was my fault. I went to a party with him. They got out a Ouija board.” I shudder. It’s not something I want to remember, but the image of people in straitjackets and the gnashing teeth and the cold presence is impossible to forget.
Luka draws closer, his body warm. “What happened?”
“We did a séance and I freaked out. I guess. I don’t remember that part. I just remember waking up in the hospital …” The wind brings chilly air up the path. It presses against my back and my neck. I can still hear my parents whispering.
I want you to promise me that our daughter won’t end up like your mom.
Tess is not my mother.
But we’ve always suspected …
I stop in the middle of the path. “What do you know about Wren and Jess?”
“Not much.”
“Has Wren ever gone to the Edward Brooks Facility?”
His lips curve into a crooked smile. “Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t make a habit of snooping into other people’s files.”
“Oh.” I scuff my shoe against the ground. “Just mine, then?”
“Just yours.” He sits back against a large rock off to the side of the path.
I scuff my shoe again. “So tell me about your dream last night. What happened on your end?”
“I fell asleep and woke up on the beach. I looked around for you, but you weren’t there, so I sat down and waited for a really long time before you showed up.”
“And then I disappeared?”
He gives me a small nod, his green eyes filled with intensity.
I cross my arms tighter. “I wish I knew how it worked.”
“So do I.”
“How about the dreams you had before?”
“Before I met you?”
&n
bsp; “Yeah. How do you think those worked?” How could he dream about me before meeting me? How in the world would science or my father explain that one?
He shrugs. “I wish I knew that too.”
“Are you sure it was me?” An image of the ordinary looking man who prevented me from freeing my grandmother in last night’s dream pops into my head. Apart from the scar, any number of men could pass as him. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there with dark hair and blue eyes and freckles.”
“It was you, Tess.” He takes my hand and pulls me toward him. With him leaning against the rock and me standing between his splayed legs, our noses are at the same height. “Exact same nose. Exact same eyes. Same chin.” He traces his thumb over a small white scar along my jaw line. “Even the same scars.”
My lungs stop working.
“I don’t understand how it worked. All I know is that when you showed up in Current Events that first day, it was like … this huge sense of relief.”
“Relief?”
“It seemed crazy to be consumed with thoughts about somebody who wasn’t real.”
I swallow the dryness in my throat. “Do you think there’s anybody else like us?”
“Like us, as in people who see the things we see?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe.”
I think about my grandmother and my dread grows. Luka must sense my disquiet because he shakes my palm a little, drawing my attention up to his.
“It’s going to be okay.”
I wish I could believe him. “We need to find my grandma. The dream I had about her last night? Finding out she’s alive? That she tried to kidnap me? I –I need to find her. She might have answers. She might not even be crazy.”
“I’ll help you. We’ll find her.”
“How?”
“Could you ask your parents?”
“They’d only get suspicious.”
“What about Dr. Roth?”
“I wouldn’t know how to go about asking. What if he wants to know how I know?”
“We can figure out what to tell him.”
A stick snaps not too far away. Luka stands quickly and pulls me behind him, his posture poised and alert, as if ready to lunge at the first sign of danger. A squirrel hops across the path, into a beam of moonlight, and the tension seeps out of his shoulders. He turns around. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”
The Gifting Page 15
