Mary, Will I Die?
Page 17
“Before she died?” The question popped out of Elena’s mouth even though it wasn’t a question at all. Her eyes met Grace’s. Saw the silent plea. And she knew. Elena wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to.
“Grace’s mother isn’t dead.” Elena spoke the words carefully, relishing every one of them. She wanted to make sure Calvin understood.
“Yes, she is,” Calvin replied, as if he were some sort of expert in the subject. “She died in a car wreck. You were there. You heard. We waited for her dad to come pick her up.”
Elena tsked, shaking her head. What had this girl gotten herself into?
“Her mom didn’t die.” Elena drew out the words like it was obvious. “She broke her collarbone. And then she left. She lives in Ohio.”
“No. That can’t—that can’t be true.”
Calvin had turned to Grace, disbelief causing his voice to waver. But Elena didn’t give Grace the chance to explain. What did she care about Calvin’s feelings?
“When did you take this?” Elena dangled the necklace in front of Grace’s nose, demanding an answer.
“It was an accident,” Grace sputtered, and Elena couldn’t tell if she was explaining it to her or Calvin. “I didn’t mean to—”
“When?” Elena cut her off. And Grace seemed to break in two, her shoulders collapsing as she curled in on herself.
“That day we were in your grandmother’s room. When my mom had her accident.”
She’d had it for five years? And pretended it was her mother’s all that time? Elena’s lips curled into a snarl.
“How pathetic.”
Elena turned to go.
“Pathetic? You want to talk about pathetic?”
Elena whipped back around. Was Grace really talking back to her? She’d never snapped at her like this.
“At least I haven’t been flirting with a seventh grader.”
Elena opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, Grace launched a second attack.
“And for the record, I’m the one who told Henry about your text messages. I snuck into the locker room and stole your phone while you were practicing. I’m the one who outed you as a cheater.”
Elena jerked back, her mouth falling open in shock. Grace had told on her? Grace had ruined everything?
“And you know what?” Grace barreled on. “I’d do it again. Because you’re mean, Elena. You’re a bully. You don’t deserve a boyfriend like Henry. And you never deserved a best friend like me. You deserve to be lonely and miserable.”
Rage coursed through Elena. An intense fury ten times worse than she’d ever felt. Her cheeks glowed red. They burned in the night, like Grace had slapped her across the face.
“At least I’m not a thief,” Elena shot back. But even that wasn’t enough. She needed to drive the dagger home. She needed to bury Grace. “At least my mom didn’t leave me.”
She knew she’d gone too far the second the words passed her lips. But it was too late to take them back. Too late to do anything but watch Grace’s face crumble. Watch tears spring to her eyes. Watch her turn and bolt into the night, her sobs echoing in her wake.
“You’re a bully,” Calvin muttered before taking off after Grace. And Elena suddenly realized that he was right. She was.
Where had she run off to?
Calvin’s eyes swept along the carnival aisles, looking for that white-lightning-streaked cylinder of hair. It shouldn’t be that hard to find a Bride of Frankenstein. His Bride of Frankenstein. They’d won the couples costume contest together, and now he felt suddenly incomplete without her.
Did he care that she’d lied to him? Yeah. It bummed him out that she hadn’t been honest. That she didn’t think she could trust him, especially after he’d opened up to her about his drawings and the visions. But that was also what made it hard to stay mad at her.
She’d listened to him. She’d understood. She hadn’t laughed or called him crazy. She’d actually believed him, something he didn’t think anyone ever would do. And now she was trying to save him. He couldn’t give up on her. At least not without giving her a chance to explain herself.
Moving through the crowd, Calvin’s head swiveled around like a periscope, hunting but not finding her anywhere. He couldn’t give up, though. He’d just have to keep searching until—
A flash of light in Calvin’s peripheral vision caught his eye. Immediately, he flipped his gaze around and spotted the building, its lights flickering as another bulb exploded with a sizzle and pop.
THE DEVIL’S FUN HOUSE.
Calvin shivered as he read the illuminated words. But something in him knew it was a sign. He knew he’d find Grace inside. Despite his better judgment, he made a beeline for the attraction. He ignored the BACK IN TEN MINUTES note stuck out front and eased the door open, letting himself be swallowed whole by the devil’s red, grinning mouth.
“Grace,” Calvin called quietly, squinting to see through the dimly lit room, through the fog rising up from the floor in chalky clouds. “Are you in here?”
He waded in deeper, coughing as he inhaled some of the fog, gagging at the ashy, brimstone smell. He held his hands up in front of him to make sure he didn’t run headlong into anything solid and tried his best to ignore the flames climbing up the walls, casting the whole room in a hellish red light.
“Grace, you can come out. You can talk to me. I’m not mad. I promise.”
Calvin took another couple of steps and froze as his reflection suddenly appeared twenty times in front of him, echoing off the fun-house mirrors. He looked tall and stout and willowy and buff all at the same time. And when he called Grace’s name again, his mouth went big, devouring his whole face, while in another mirror it shrank down, disappearing altogether into his neck.
“Grace,” he called again, but his voice came out smaller this time, the sound devoured by the jumping flames.
His breathing grew heavier and his legs wobbled underneath him as his eyes darted from mirror to mirror, traveling over all of the distorted faces, not recognizing himself in any of them. Losing his grip on reality as he forgot who exactly he was.
Was he sad Calvin? Grinning Calvin? Surprised? Angry? Scared? Betrayed? Laughing? Heartbroken?
His pulse jumped as his gaze fell on one reflection in particular.
Do you see?
Calvin wished he could unsee it. He hadn’t forgotten that fourth picture he’d drawn in the library. The one he hadn’t shown to anyone.
Is it how you always imagined it?
Calvin’s fingers inched along the lines of the reflection, tracing the curve of his cheek, drawing his eyes rolled up into his head. His mouth hanging open. His lips lax. His face void of any emotion at all. His skin pale. Cold to the touch.
Your end is coming no matter how hard you try to ignore it.
Calvin jumped as something skittered behind him. He whipped around and thought he saw it. Someone running, darting across the mirrors just out of reach. In and out. Over and through. He ran after it, making his way deeper into the maze, following the sounds because he couldn’t trust his eyes.
He weaved through the dozens of versions of himself, his breath growing short, his heart pounding in his ears. He raced through the fun house, trying to keep up. Trying to get ahead. He chased until he ran right into a dead end.
His fist pounded against the mirror, the glass shaking as it held firm. He exhaled and a puff of frozen crystals colored the air. His nostrils twitched as something foul ran under his nose. Grace could be anywhere. He’d never find her.
Then he heard it. A quiet sob. But he wasn’t going to be fooled. Not again. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold glass. However, the noise persisted. He wasn’t imagining it. This time, it was real.
He turned and followed the sound, navigating through the maze carefully this time, his fingers skimming the glass, keeping him on the right track. He moved out of his dead end and into an open space he had missed the first time through. And there she was, sitt
ing on the ground in a crumpled pile, her shoulders pulsing up and down as she cried.
“Grace?”
She lifted her head and looked up at him. Her tears had washed streaks of gray paint from her cheeks, and her eyes were red and swollen, shot through with pain.
“You found me,” she whimpered, so low that Calvin could barely hear. “I didn’t think you’d—”
But more sobs bubbled out of her.
“Grace,” Calvin said again as he bent down on his knees so that he could look her in the eyes. “It’s okay.”
She sniffled and swiped at the tears, smearing her face paint more, staining the fingers of her gloves.
“I’m sorry I lied to you. It’s just—sometimes it’s easier to think of her as dead. It’s easier than the truth.”
“The truth?” Calvin sat down in front of her, pulling Grace’s hands into his and squeezing them. He listened to her breaths. Waited for her to be ready.
“She left us,” Grace whispered, tears edging her voice. Only this time she managed to keep them from falling. “After the accident. She said it was a wake-up call. She could’ve died, and what had she done with her life?”
Grace hiccuped then, her lips curling into a pained smile, trying to brush it all off.
“She wasn’t happy. We didn’t make her happy. So she left. She abandoned us. She abandoned me. Just like Elena did when we were best friends. Just like you’re about to do now that you found out I’ve been lying.”
She dropped her head again and turned away.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Calvin whispered, his hand sneaking underneath her chin, gently pulling her eyes up to meet his. “I’m your soulmate, aren’t I? It’s fate.”
And as their gazes held for five and then ten seconds, something in Grace relaxed and a smile slowly blossomed on her lips. A real, heartfelt one, more beautiful than any Calvin could have drawn.
“Thank you.”
Then she hugged him, her face pressed into his shoulder, his shirt soaking up the last of her tears. When she pulled away, there was a new light in her eyes. An excitement in her voice.
“I think I found something,” she whispered, and then dug into her purse, pulling out the book of spells.
“You were looking through this while you were hiding?” Calvin couldn’t believe it.
“I said I’d find a way to save you. I couldn’t give up on you. Not even if you never wanted to talk to me again.”
“Grace.” Calvin shook his head, marveling as she rushed to show him what she’d found.
“Look, there’s a whole chapter in here about mirrors. About how they can be used for scrying or as portals. How they can be opened and sealed shut for good.”
She flipped through the book and showed Calvin.
“Somehow,” she went on, “we must have opened a portal five years ago. And if we want to get rid of this curse—this demon—we have to close it back up again.”
Calvin didn’t know what to say as Grace looked to him expectantly. He wanted to be as excited as her. As hopeful. But—
“How do we even do that?” Calvin asked. And Grace frowned, her brow wrinkling in on itself.
“I’m not exactly sure. But I think it has something to do with that inscription. The words running all around the mirror’s face. If I can just decipher it, then I might be able to break the curse.”
“Oh.” Calvin didn’t know why he sounded so disappointed. What had he really expected? Some magical cure? He’d stopped believing in that a long time ago.
“But I’m still going through the book,” Grace hurried to add. “I just know I’m going to find it. Something I can use to translate it and get the right pronunciation.”
You’ll never get rid of me.
And in the mirror, Calvin saw it, floating there in front of them, its hair swirling around its head, a look of wicked triumph stretching its lips into a grin.
Your end is coming, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
A cackle echoed through the fun house, its shrill pitch shaking the mirrors so that Calvin thought they might all break. Beside him, Grace could hear it, too.
“We have to get out of here,” Calvin shouted, and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the maze, too afraid to look back. They stumbled through the rows of mirrors, losing their balance over and over again, nearly falling flat on their faces.
“The book,” Grace shouted, and Calvin wheeled around, realizing she’d dropped it. “We can’t leave without it.”
And even though he could see the demon flying behind them, flitting from mirror to mirror, Calvin took off, running back into danger. He was already going to die, so what did he really have to lose?
He saw her swooping down, going for the book. But he couldn’t let her get it. At the last second, he dropped to his knees, sliding forward, his hands reaching, grabbing the book seconds before the demon could, his momentum carrying him forward as his foot collided with the mirror. A splinter shot up the glass, cracking it into a hundred pieces, and a horrific scream cut through the air, rattling every mirror in the fun house, shaking them until—
“Duck!” Calvin shouted, doing his best to get up. He lunged for Grace, his arms outstretched to cover her, but it was too late.
With a sickening crunch, every mirror in the fun house exploded, knocking Calvin and Grace off their feet, shooting thousands of shards of glass into the air in a glittering cloud of shrapnel.
A ringing filled Calvin’s ears as he staggered to his knees, shaking pulverized glass from his shoulders and hair.
“Grace? Where are you?”
He shuffled forward, squinting through the dark room. Glass tinkled around his feet, the sharp edges scratching at the ground.
“Talk to me, Grace. Tell me you’re all right. I can’t lose you.”
And then, just as the panic was taking over, he heard a cough. He saw something moving in the shadows.
“I’m here,” Grace called, and Calvin ran to her, relief breaking over him. He dropped the spell book and flung his bag on the ground, pulling her close as he checked on her. She had a long cut running up her arm, but it seemed shallow. It would be okay.
“I was so worried,” Calvin exhaled.
But the shell-shocked Grace didn’t seem to hear him. She could only stare into the empty space, her mouth moving even though no words came out.
“It was my drawing,” Grace finally murmured. But Calvin didn’t know what she meant. He hadn’t drawn this. Not like the scoreboard. He hadn’t seen it coming.
“Your premonition,” Grace explained. “The shards of glass.”
And then, before Calvin could stop her, she reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook. She flipped through the pages and grabbed the series of drawings he had shown her in her bedroom.
“See?” Grace pointed at the glass, the hundreds of shards that Calvin had drawn surrounding her face. “Elena. Steph. And now me. They’ve all come true.”
But as Grace flipped through the pictures, she froze. Her jaw dropped as her eyes scanned the page. As she realized there had been a fourth drawing in the series that Calvin hadn’t told her about.
“Calvin.”
It was all he needed to hear to know the truth. But still, he reached out to her, his hand trembling.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Why didn’t you show me this?” Grace asked, her brow furrowing, confusion clouding her eyes.
And Calvin couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t take the guilt. So he turned and stared at the page instead. Took in the details. His own body laid out on the ground, cuts open across his face, blood spotting the front of his shirt.
And the worst part—that Grace was there, too. Weeping over him. Cradling him in her arms as she sobbed. Crying over his lifeless body.
“Why didn’t you tell me that I’m with you when you die?”
“It’s not—” Calvin began, but Grace had already gotten to her feet. The drawings dropped from her trembling fingers, an
d she bent over. But she scooped up the grimoire instead, holding it close to her chest, like it might be able to shield her from another attack. Or maybe from Calvin.
“I can’t be with you,” Grace mumbled, still in shock.
“Grace, listen to me,” Calvin pleaded. “It’s just a picture.”
“No,” she insisted, starting for the door, blood beginning to trickle down her arm. “You have to stay away from me.”
Calvin reached for her. He tried to convince her to stay. He didn’t care about the drawing. He’d grown tired of running from his fate.
“I said, stay away from me!” Grace screamed, shocking Calvin, freezing him in his tracks. “I won’t let you die.”
And then she was gone.
The halls were empty when Grace poked her head out of the girls’ bathroom, which meant she’d succeeded in avoiding a certain somebody, as the entire student body had rushed home to start the weekend after the final bell had rung. And as a bonus, she’d nearly finished the grimoire translation, though it hadn’t been a very easy project to work on while tucked away in a bathroom stall, her notebook balanced on one knee while the spell book sat precariously open on the other.
She riffled through the pages of notes she’d made, mouthing the pronunciation guide she’d cobbled together. The grimoire had held the secret after all. And after two days of focused study, she thought she’d cracked the incantation from the mirror. She thought that maybe she could save Calvin.
That was why she’d pushed herself. Why she’d stayed up until she fell asleep at her desk with her cheek pressed against the spell book. Why she’d ignored his texts and avoided him in the hallways. Why she couldn’t see him. Not if she wanted him to stay alive.
That picture told the future. She was there when he died. She cradled his head in her lap. She heard the last breaths whisper past his lips. She felt his skin grow cold as his heart stopped beating. She was the last thing he saw, so why had he spent so much time with her? Why had he sought her out? Why had he lived so dangerously?