by Amanda Lance
“Rachel? Mark? Sorry to interrupt, but if you want a ride, I’m leaving…”
I walked a little further before I saw the toke of a cigarette. There was one before there were two. Quickly, I realized there was a third person there who wasn’t smoking. I was about to walk up to the group, ask them if they had seen my irresponsible, immature, jackass of a twin, but I held back. I think it was the stature of the group in the dark; the way they carried themselves in the blackness, the way they made the woods close in.
“Is it all there?” James asked.
“Bet your ass. What, you don’t trust me?”
I ducked behind a tree as two people walked away. Though I shut my eyes, because I knew that even while I tried to hide, my stupid wings were probably sticking out, the glitter making me visible from every angle.
I was being stupid. That wasn’t a drug deal I had just seen, it couldn’t have been. Even if it somehow was, what did it matter? People saw things like that every day. Technically, I hadn’t even seen anything; there were shapes and silhouettes, nothing else. I had heard the tail end of a conversation, nothing else.
“Hadley Grayson.”
His voice was instant relief in my body. “Hi, James.”
I stood up and tried to pick the thorns out from my tights. I felt a couple digging into my thighs, but at least I hadn’t ruined Sylvia’s dress.
His eyes widened a little, and as he removed his hand from his back pocket, his hardened face relaxed a little. “I w-wasn’t sure that was you.”
I tried smiling but a thorn dug into my skin. “You have a lot of other girls chasing you around in the dark?”
“Oh sure, but out of all my stalkers, you’re my favorite.”
I thought I saw him smile but when he saw me flinch, he stepped up and knelt in-front of me instead. I nearly fell over when his gentle fingers began untangling the thorns from my lower thigh.
“I actually thought you were a nymph.”
I pulled at my wings and grimaced, remembering the globs of glitter I had let Sylvia put on my face. “Oh yeah?”
He nodded but did not reward my sarcasm with the dimple as I hoped.
“Or maybe a ghost sent to show me the errors of my ways.”
His words sank into me, though ironically I felt myself floating from the solid ground. It occurred to me he was being sarcastic, but boy did he have a way of pulling a girl’s strings.
“Ha,” I tried. “That’s a lot like this epic poem--”
James shrugged as he rose back up to meet me. He smelled like pine sap and I couldn’t get enough of him.
“The Divine Comedy.”
I feigned surprise. “Here I thought you were a slacker in English.”
“I was.” He shrugged. “Am. There isn’t anything you can’t learn from Sparknotes.”
“Almost as good.”
“It’s the effort that counts.”
I smiled. “It is.”
Shouts coming from the house distracted us both. Swearing flared as a microphone dropped and squealed across the grounds. I must have jumped at the sound because James made a move to catch me.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I lied.
“I wasn’t going to be. You shouldn’t be.” He looked around as someone shouted into the woods.
“Why not?”
James face brightened with headlights as people started their cars. I could hear shrubs being rustled as lovers ran to escape, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from James.
“We have to go.”
“What?”
He pointed at the house, where red and blue lights bounced from the carbon coated siding. I had a vague memory of what Jenna said about the cops busting up the party by midnight and flinched.
“Oh crap.”
“Where are you going?” I felt the warmth of his arm as it shadowed around my waist, but he hesitated to pull me closer.
“I have to get Simon.” I hit myself upside the head. “And Jenna, oh poor Jenna—she’s wacked out of her head.”
What was left of the music stopped and the remaining crowds dispersed. Brighter lights flashed into the woods, I caught a glimpse of a girl trying to pull her shirt back on. I looked away.
“Almost everyone here is underage and way more than drinking is going on. The police are going to do more than just call parents. Does Simon have a phone?
“Yes, but—”
“Has he been drinking?”
“Probably—”
“Then he can call a taxi or get a ride with someone sober. If he doesn’t, then they’ll probably take him in.”
“If they do, I need to be there for that. My parents will throw a fit.”
I saw his eyes roll as the woods lit up in the artificial light. His arm pulled me behind a large shrub with red leaves and roots emerging from the ground. For a moment I didn’t understand why, my only comprehension being the slight pain I felt when my knee made contact with the ground. But then I could see vampires and bunny rabbits running while an officer chased them. An overweight police officer rolled away the remainder of the keg. Another prompted a captive to take a breathalyzer and one of the playboy bunnies ran away, making the officer chase after her.
“Come on, kids; pass the sobriety test, show us your IDs, and you can go home.”
“You can’t make us, pig!” Some of the remaining party-goers laughed and oinked, but it only garnered more annoyance from the police officers, who, I suspected, handled this event on an annual bases.
I lifted my head up to see if I could spot Simon, and while I did catch a view of Tim talking with an officer, I didn’t see anyone else.
Two more officers scoured the woods looking for anyone who may have remained. More people bluntly refused to perform any sort of sobriety tests, even those who were visibly sober, and appointed designated drivers. Some of them were prattling on about civil rights. One girl threatened to call a lawyer. Overall it was very entertaining. So much so that I almost didn’t see the light from one officer’s flashlight coming closer. As it was about to make contact, James pushed me down by my shoulders
“Hey!”
He shushed me and pointed in the direction of the oncoming light. Though I had done nothing wrong, there was a strange allure about being there with James McKay, a fear of being caught, combined with the genius of being so close to him.
The officer was doing a thorough inspection by slowly combing through the fallen leaves, occasionally even poking around in the piles there, as though a teenage jack in-the-box were going to jump out and surprise him. I was suddenly sure the stupid glittery wings would give me away. I tried to take them off, but James quickly stopped me when he heard the rustling they made. Instead, he scooted behind me and pulled the wings together and down so they were out of sight. As the light came closer, I told myself it was the suspense of the situation and not the feel of his ragged too-big coat against my skin that was giving me chills. I was sure it was the fear of being grounded until the end of time, and not the new pleasure of his legs against the outside of mine as he smashed us together. It’s only to avoid getting caught, I told myself. I heard, felt, his hard-beating heart beneath his chest and leaned up closer against him.
When the officer was satisfied with his search, we stayed there for a minute. I felt his eyes staring down at the top of my head, and his arms hot through the fabric as he wrapped around our legs. Around us a few lone crickets chirped in places unseen and a car backfired as it pulled away. The scene behind us was beginning to calm down, the drunken crying of schoolgirls and the festering static from police walkie-talkies were almost the only sounds remaining.
“I think I broke your wings,” he whispered in my ear.
“They weren’t mine to begin with. I only borrowed them.”
“Then I messed up even more.”
The wind rushed out of me like I had been punched in the stomach, only instead of pain there was a brief
flush of joy and a rush of adrenaline in my bloodstream.
“I have to go back for my brother,” I whispered.
“Won’t your ESP tell you if he’s in danger?”
“Twins aren’t really telepathically connected. At least Simon and I aren’t.”
I felt him shrug. “I know. I-I was trying to be funny.”
“You’re too adorable to be funny.”
For the second time since arriving in Ravel I wished I did know my brother’s thoughts. I knew I had to leave James and look for Simon. It was my obligation as his sister and friend, and yet I really didn’t want to. Right then and there, I was only interested in the hands that rested on mine.
Chapter 26
McKay
There are a dozen reasons why she should avoid the police. It’s easy to see she’s on the fast track to a good college somewhere (last time I checked they don’t look too favorably on arrest records), she needs to think about her reputation, and then there’s the legitimate concern of her parents…
Mostly, I don’t want her to leave.
I’m letting the bullshit stream from my mouth like it sometimes does when I panic, thinking what if she mentions to the cops what she saw. Wondering what she saw, grateful she’s letting me touch her, hold her, trying not to think if she lets other guys in Connecticut hold her like this.
Trying not to think at all.
Hadley smells like strawberries and mints (not like those cheap, artificial kinds you can crunch on all day long, but the real kind that comes out of the garden), the kind you see in teas and stuff, and I want to lean into her and pretend she is the whole wide world. I want to tell her how pretty she is and ask her how she can make those gym shorts look good. I don’t. I only get as far as putting my hand on top of hers. I am amazed that I get that far because my insides are shaking so badly my intestines could be dancing.
It seems like we’re both listening to the cops and waiting for the second we get caught. I try to mentally prepare for the moment they’ll think we’re just another couple of teenagers making-out in the woods. Yet, it occurs to me that they’ll take one look at the two of us and never believe that Hadley would ever be caught dead with me anywhere. I realize the panicking debilitation of my situation. I could say we were just a couple of kids in the woods making out, and that we had no idea the party was being busted. But if we were caught in this particular position, it would only look like I was holding Hadley down. My arms are practically strapped over hers, and I all but tore those stupid, fucking plastic wings off. Her dress is covered in spurs and her hair is coming undone. If she wants to say I pushed her to the ground and tried to…oh Christ. I’m having trouble breathing. The tree branches are coming to get me. I want to die. Less intelligent girls have ruined guys’ lives with a lot less than what she has now. I feel my toes go numb with nerves. The world closes in until I hear her voice again.
Chapter 27
Hadley
We remained in silence while the last of the police cars filed out; the only remaining party-goers were kids who waited for their parents and respective rides to pick them up. I felt my phone vibrate in my wristlet, but I ignored it and huddled closer to James instead. Realistically, it would have been safe for us to separate and disperse, but neither of us did, and neither of us talked about it.
“Why did you say I shouldn’t have been here tonight?
“Because I was here.”
“But what if I wanted to see you?”
“You can’t.”
I sighed. “Does that mean I’m supposed to avoid all things where you’re involved? Should we make a schedule for which days we can use the library and grocery store?” Though I was laughing, the sad part is that I was only half joking as I remembered how he had ruthlessly evaded me in the hallways and during class.
“I’ve been trying to stay out of your way.” I read the words for sarcasm but there were none, only sadness. “I’ll try harder.”
“James.” I turned to face him but I buried my nose against his chest instead. I nuzzled against him and inhaled. “I want to be your friend. The other stuff doesn’t matter to me.”
“Come on.” He sighed. “I’ll help you find your brother.”
I felt stiff as we stepped out from behind the woods and I didn’t want our talk to end, but the tone of James’ voice made it clear that the conversation was over, at least for now. James McKay would learn very quickly that when I resolved to get something I wanted, I usually got it, and at that moment in time, I desired his friendship above all other things.
There were only two cars in the empty lot across from the house and the Bull was not one of them. I cursed and looked around, half expecting to see it in a ditch a few yards away, but there was nothing else around except fresh skidmarks on the road. James wasn’t far behind me, talking with one of the few remaining partiers whose toga was covered with grass stains and vomit.
I took out my phone and checked my messages. Both were from Simon, saying nothing more than he had taken the car and to call him ASAP.
“Great.”
“Everything all right?”
“Simon ditched me.”
“Good.”
“Good? Why would that be good?
“That means I get to drive you home.”
James McKay’s form of transportation was a mediocre Chevy pickup that was somehow more dented than the Bull. Yet it was solid piece of machinery, and when I climbed into it, I felt like I was in a small tank, a private vessel where no one could touch us. James glanced at me from under his hat. I tried catching his eyes with mine but he turned them back to the road.
My phone began vibrating on the seat next to me with a picture of Simon’s face. I groaned and leaned up against the passenger window. “My brother is such an asshat.”
I don’t know why, but James found that astoundingly funny.
He only laughed for maybe twenty seconds, but it was longer than I’d ever heard him, and even in the dark of the truck I could see the dimple in his cheek emerge. Without question it completely made the night worthwhile.
Then my phone started vibrating again and James’ laugh downgraded into a smile that continued as I picked up the phone. I didn’t have time to analyze it before Simon was panicking in my ear.
“Hadley? Holy crap, Hads!”
“Simon? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m at the hospital.”
“What?” There wasn’t enough air in the truck, the world was closing in. Simon could have been impaled by a fencepost and still would have made it to the party. His definition of ‘fine’ wasn’t anywhere near normal.
“How many stitches do you need? Are they taking you to surgery? Don’t forget we’re allergic to penicillin—”
“It’s not me, Hads, its Jenna. I thought she was just high or something, but she started throwing up—” I heard something rattle in the background and the sharp inhale of breath.
“Simon? Simon, are you there?”
“Hadley, I’m freaking out here. I think she had a seizure or something…” As he trailed off, I heard a sniffle and the echo of voices on a loudspeaker.
“Okay, what hospital?”
“Saint Marguerite’s?” He swore at someone and his voice cracked.
James’ voice broke in through the pulse beating in my ears. “I know where that is.”
Before I realized it, the pickup was making a radically sharp turn and going in the other direction. The truck lunged forward, and as our speed increased, I watched the white lines of the road disappear before my eyes.
“Simon, call Mom and Dad and then put your phone on power save. Don’t use it unless you have to. I’m on my way over.”
James and I looked at each other for the briefest of moments before his eyes went back to the road; I watched his grip on the wheel tighten. I tried to focus on that instead of what was wrong with Jenna, and that instant guilt that ran through me, the glassy look in her eyes…
As we merged on the free
way, James finally spoke. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Jenna, s-she overdosed or something. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I sounded angrier than I meant to, but I knew immediately that the one I was angry at was myself. I should have gotten Jenna out of there when I saw her in trouble. Now who knows what my hesitation would cost her.
Even as I accused him, though, he stayed quiet. James only loosened his grip on the wheel and drove faster, much faster than I would have thought the older truck capable of. I gripped my phone as tightly as I could, waiting for it to vibrate. It didn’t matter what my parents did or how much trouble Simon was in. What if Jenna went into a coma and never woke up? What if she ended-up brain damaged or worse?
It only took a few minutes to get to Saint Marguerite’s. As James slowed down the pickup, I tried climbing out of the truck, but something held me back. I slapped James’ hand away from my wings.
“Get the hell off me.”
“Let me help.” His voice was soft enough to hurt, and despite my anger, I gave in and let him help me. The wings came off quickly enough and I cringed as his fingers brushed against my shoulders. I didn’t look back at him and ran through the emergency room doors. I saw Simon almost immediately; my parents were there, too; Mom on her phone and Dad saying something to Simon while he paced the floor.
“Guys? What’s happening?”
Simon hugged me tightly. As a clown, he was no longer comical but sad, his face smeared with white paint and tear stains. “She overdosed, I guess, but they haven’t said anything yet.”
