These Vengeful Hearts

by Katherine Laurin

  “Where is here?” I strained to see in the weak light of her head beams if we’d come to an actual destination. Didn’t seem like any place special.

  “This—” she seemed to struggle finding the right words “—is my place. It’s where I come when I need to be reminded.”

  “Reminded of what?”

  “That this moment, this day, this year, is just a blink of an eye when you consider the vastness of the universe.” Her voice had a faraway quality to it. Haley had never been so open with me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was showing me something most people never got to see. My first impression of her as someone who’d destroy me without a second thought didn’t fit anymore.

  “That sounds very depressing. Not like something you should drive twenty minutes to remind yourself of. Just look around you at school.”

  “School is part of the problem. It’s easy to get sucked into it all and feel like it will never end. Never get better. When I’m out here—” Haley gestured to the darkness cocooning us and the sky’s canopy of stars “—I’m reminded that nothing, not even the moon, is permanent.”

  I was beginning to understand. “You come here when you feel bad about something you’ve done. Red Court work.”

  She nodded, her face a painter’s palette of emotions—sadness and anger and hunger. Somehow, they all worked together to form a determined look, like when you mixed three colors together and got something totally new.

  “I understand.” I turned to stare into the distance. The lights from my neighborhood were visible, or at least I could see the way the sky reflected their glow. “I’m a bit relieved, actually. I was thinking that I was the only one our work affected.”

  “You’d have to be made of stone not to let it get to you, even just a little, but it gets easier every time.”

  I couldn’t let an opening like this pass me by. “Do you think the Queen of Hearts feels that way?”

  She chewed her lip. “It’s better not to think about questions you’ll never get the answer to.”

  Haley’s guarded attitude reminded me of the way I acted when someone spoke ill of Gideon or even mentioned my sister. It was almost as if she was defensive, like I was talking about someone she knew, someone she cared about. Did she somehow know the Queen of Hearts?

  The conversation was striking a nerve. I had to pull back or I’d risk all of the ground I gained. There didn’t seem to be a safe way of asking about the Queen of Hearts. What I needed was to find a way to get Haley to open up more and trust me.

  “You said school was only part of the reason you come out here. What’s the other part?”

  Her jaw locked and something dark came over her face. “My stepdad.”

  Neither Haley nor I had mentioned her stepdad’s drunken behavior the night I was at her house. “Dave. He seems like a real gem.”

  She huffed through her nose. “He married my mom five years ago. At first it was ok, but eventually I saw through his act. He’s just one of those guys who makes himself feel bigger by pushing the rest of us down.”

  “What does your mom say?”

  “Nothing. She’s always making excuses for him. Spineless.”

  We watched the car’s headlights shine into the endless night. It was like the track at dawn. Nothing and no one around. Maybe Haley found the idea of being the last person left alive comforting, too.

  “I can’t wait to get out,” she whispered fiercely.

  “Where will you go?”

  “Art school hopefully, but I’d need a scholarship to pay for it.”

  She let her words hang in the air until I understood the pause. “The favor.”

  “The lady in the postgrad office? Her sister is on the scholarship review board at the art institute I want to go to.”

  “But how will that work?”

  “The same way all of this works. Until then, I have this place. I like the openness of it.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for taking me here. I feel better.” My mind ached to wander through our conversation like a gallery and dissect every moment as though they were still-life photos. I found myself thinking of Haley’s painting from school, the flame, but I couldn’t say why.

  I turned to her. “I bet you won’t even need the Red Court to get the scholarship. Your paintings in the art display are great.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered without looking at me, like she wasn’t used to compliments on her work.

  After a few more minutes, Haley drove me back to my car. I went home without incident and pulled out my corkboard and an old yearbook. The corkboard remained empty on my wall unless I needed it. It was only pulled out for big projects as a place to put all my thoughts before I could arrange them into logical threads. I often tacked ideas or articles or pictures to the board. Something about looking everything over at once helped me put together the bigger picture, like everything on the board was an individual puzzle piece. I just needed to find where it fit.

  I set up a wheel with thirteen spokes—one for each member of the Red Court. On three of the spokes, I wrote the names of the Red Court members I knew: Haley, Shauna, and me. I added Haley’s and Shauna’s yearbook photos to each of their spokes. When I wasn’t dead on my feet, I’d begin adding details about them, but this was a start. At the center of the wheel I added a red cartoon heart I foraged from an old sticker book. I flipped it around so the work was facing the wall and the blank backside was visible.

  Still in the cat burglar uniform, I crawled into bed. As I drifted to sleep, I realized why Haley’s painting had come to mind earlier. Looking at her work had given me the oddest sensation of looking at a reflection of myself. Listening to her speak tonight had given me the same feeling, like I was looking into a mirror.

  * * *

  The next day, the Homecoming Court names were announced and not even a whisper of the break-in and subsequent bust was to be heard. To no one’s surprise but her own, Maura was named Queen. I watched from down the hall as she teared up in front of the display decreeing her royal in silver glitter and distributed hugs to her friends and boyfriend. No matter what else happened, I was glad Maura won. She looked genuinely happy, and I was proud of my role in that. From the corner of my eye, I caught a swish of blond curls and a grim smile that reminded me I had work to do.

  Before heading home for the day, I stopped by my locker to dump some notebooks I didn’t need over the weekend. Waiting for me on the top shelf was another Queen of Hearts. Did the QoH have dozens of card decks lying around without one of their queens or did she somehow order them à la carte? The familiar swoopy lettering covered the back of the card.

  A job well done deserves a reward.

  Leave a card here with a request.

  You have until Monday after school to decide.

  If I had until Monday, that meant the QoH would need to come collect that afternoon. For the first time, I knew where she would be and when. She was as good as mine.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE MORNING OF HOMECOMING dawned clear and cool. At least it would be sunny, if not quite warm.

  “Thank goodness it’s going to be a nice day,” I said to my mom at breakfast. “If the debate team had to do another car wash in the cold, I was going to call in sick.”

  She looked at me over the top of her laptop, doubt evident in her quirked brow.

  “Ok, I wouldn’t have called in, but I would have worn a waterproof suit of some kind.”

  My dad walked into the kitchen and placed kisses on the tops of both our heads.

  “Should we bring a car by for you guys to wash? We’re pretty good tippers.” My father could have written the handbook for cheesy dad remarks.

  Hmm. My parents at the car wash fundraiser? No, thanks.

  “Umm, that’s ok. I’ll call you guys if no one shows. Otherwise, we should leave room for non–debate team families. It w
ill raise awareness for our program in addition to money to send the team to Nationals.”

  Neither of my parents were fooled by my flimsy excuse. I got the double-brow-quirk treatment from the two of them. Did they have to practice that to do it in unison?

  My dad gave me an indulgent smile. “Sure thing, honey. Whatever you need.”

  He went about making a breakfast smoothie for himself, but I felt his words like a shot to the heart. Didn’t my parents know how hard I tried every day to not need anything? Ever since our talk a week ago, my dad had been extra attentive, so I was on my A-game at home. He didn’t need me to add to his worries.

  A car horn sounded from the driveway. “That’s Gideon.”

  “Doesn’t he want to come in for breakfast?” My mom’s forehead creased. She was crushed at missing out on some quality Gideon time.

  “We don’t have time. Maybe he can come in for a bit after the carnival.”

  With my mom slightly mollified, I darted out the door to meet Gideon.

  “Hey,” I chirped when I climbed into the passenger seat of his dad’s car.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Gideon’s hair was styled with a deep side part. A pair of black Wayfarers and a faded tee advertising Palisade peaches added to the retro vibe.

  “My mom misses you.”

  “Who wouldn’t miss me?”

  He didn’t miss a beat.

  We pulled out of my neighborhood and headed toward Hell. The annual Homecoming carnival was set to start at ten. I was in charge of the debate team’s car wash and had to arrive early to set up.

  I’d been prepared to tell Gideon about my latest card from the Queen of Hearts, but the words lodged in my throat. I’d promised to stay honest with him about the Red Court, but I was beginning to think he was safer the less he knew.

  Counting the previous card from the QoH, which I’d never mentioned, this note was the second secret I had kept from Gideon. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone in my life I could be fully honest with. I grabbed my journal to put my thoughts to paper.

  October 27

  You reap what you sow. I dread my harvest of secrets.

  I tucked my journal away and looked to Gideon. Journaling was one of the few things beyond his scrutiny. He knew what it meant to me, how important it was to my sanity.

  “Remind me why you’re coming to the car wash?”

  “I have nothing to do today. And something interesting always happens at the Homecoming carnival.”

  This was true. Whether it was someone getting too aggressive at the pie-a-teacher-in-the-face booth or seniors commandeering the dunk tank for an impromptu pool party, the Homecoming carnival provided enough gossip to keep the school going until the end of the semester. The administration would have canceled it years ago if it didn’t fund half the clubs and teams for the rest of the academic year.

  The coup de grâce was of course the parade. The debate team’s float was a car covered in what looked like soap suds to double as an advertisement for our car wash. School families and alumni all turned out to support the Heller High community. Everything wrapped by early afternoon to give us time to get ready for the dance, or to watch movies at Gideon’s again, whichever.

  Gideon steered his way through the mass of students zipping around the parking lot getting booths set up and carrying supplies. He parked as close to the car wash as possible, which was on the other side of the school. Last year, half the team had come down with a stomach flu, and I was left to run everything. This year, trusting no one else, I volunteered to steer the ship as team captain. When we picked our way through the melee, I was shocked to find Gigi barking orders to everyone, including several senior boys.

  “Nice work,” I said as Gideon and I surveyed the orderly way everyone was lined up, supplies ready to go. Some of the debate team members eyed us warily, and I looked to Gigi for an explanation.

  Gigi, who stood all of five feet, beamed in my direction. “I may have implied that you’d randomly draw a name for someone to be kicked off the team if you got here and found a mess.”

  Gideon barked out a laugh and tried to disguise it as a cough.

  “I appreciate the initiative, but we need everyone’s help if we’re going to meet our goal for this year.”

  Gigi had the kind of tenacity that surprised people, if only because of her small stature. She was a spitfire, hungry to impress and eager to win. After only her first debate meet, she asked me to start coaching her. When I looked at her drive to succeed, I saw myself mirrored, the better parts of myself.

  Gigi excused herself to terrorize some juniors who were tossing buckets of frigid water at each other. The idiots were going to get hypothermia. October warm was not July warm.

  I had just tossed my bag down when my phone started to buzz. I grabbed it and stared at the screen. Nothing.

  “I think it’s your other phone.” Gideon’s eyes were wide with meaning.

  I scrambled to grab my burner from the depths of my bag, ignoring the itch plaguing my palms at the thought of doing Red Court work today of all days. There had to be a better place to store my other phone so I wouldn’t get confused at which one was ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, we have a situation.”

  “What kind of situation?” Having this call in front of Gideon felt too much like my worlds colliding. The two were not supposed to meet.

  “The kind where something went wrong with another team’s job and they need us to clean up.”

  “What do you need me to do? I’m working the carnival today. It’ll be hard to get away.”

  “I know, I know. I’m going off the script. I have an idea you should be able to complete during the carnival. Just keep doing what you need to and be ready. I’m going to herd them to you.”

  “What are you talking about? What sort of job is this?”

  She huffed, obviously annoyed that I couldn’t keep up with her evil plan. “It’s a setup. We need to put two people together and hope they stick in time to go to the dance tonight.”

  “Are we matchmakers now?”

  “Sometimes.” She sounded distracted. “This is not my kind of thing. I’d rather anything else than this, but no one else could pull it off today.”

  I’d never asked what happened when you failed at your assignment. If work well done earned a reward, the opposite must be true. Whoever screwed this up was bound to be punished.

  “Ok. Just tell me what I need to do.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Haley clicked off the line and left my snappy remark to die on my lips.

  “What’s happening?” Gideon asked.

  That question had at least a dozen answers, most of which Gideon wouldn’t care to know.

  “I’m to play cupid in some desperate fool’s attempt to find a date for Homecoming.”

  Gideon smirked in a self-satisfied way. “I told you. Something interesting always happens at the carnival.”

  CHAPTER 19

  THE CARNIVAL WAS well underway by the time Haley texted me with instructions. Despite the nice weather, the debate team’s car wash wasn’t shaping up to be the fundraiser we needed. Our team even wore coordinated red tees that read “Will get dirty for dollars.”

  Haley: u need 2 come by the main stage in 20 mins

  Me: Fine. What do I need to do?

  Haley: crash the stage and steal the microphone

  Me: Pardon? You must have made some typos.

  Haley: nope

  Me: ...

  Haley: crash the stage and make a pitch for the car wash

  Haley: I can do the rest

  What was Haley thinking? Me, crash the stage? There were probably things in the universe less likely to happen, but I couldn’t think of any.

  Gideon had wandered off to find some funnel cakes f
or us, so I handed the reins to Gigi and took off to think of a plan. The main stage was at the center of the carnival and the source of noise that could be heard for miles around. Each year, student council hosted a battle of the bands to raise money for some part of the school that was crumbling—the weight room was this year’s lucky recipient. Most of the money seemed to go to athletic equipment.

  “Ember!”

  I turned to see Chase walking up, arms laden with the cheap stuffed animals that lined the game booths.

  “Hey,” I said. “Do you think you have enough teddy bears?”

  Chase’s grin stretched across his whole face. “I have a gift for ring toss.”

  Being friendly with Chase still left me feeling like I was in an alternate universe, even as my heart skipped enough beats to be dangerous each time I saw him. “You can say that again. What are you doing with all of those?”

  “My little sisters love them. I was commanded to come home with no less than six this year.”

  How much did he have to spend on ring toss to win—I counted—seven bears? “Looks like you have an extra.”

  “Actually, this one is for you.”

  Chase handed me a white bear with a little red rose in its hand.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  A cute boy giving me a bear he won at the ring toss booth. It sounded like something that happened sixty years ago to couples in old movies. It was also unbearably sweet. The kind of thing that should have me gagging but instead put a strange pressure in my chest, like the air in my lungs was trying to escape through my heart.

  Chase looked away with a pleased, shy expression. He shouldn’t have given me the bear. He should have found someone else who could say more than thank you. Someone who could tell him yes when he asked her out on a date.

  “I can’t accept this,” I murmured and tried to hand it back.

  He gently stopped my hand and shook his head. “I insist. You’d be doing me a favor. I have two sisters and seven bears. That’s bound to cause a fight when one ends up with four. They’ll probably agree to split the bear in half, so you’re really doing it a favor, too.”