As Dead as It Gets

by Katie Alender

  “It doesn’t really mean anything,” I said. “Mom took me to the salon a couple of weeks ago, and I told the lady to stop when it looked like this.”

  Megan pursed her lips, almost in disapproval.

  “I just sort of…liked it.” I knew how lame that sounded. The truth was, the white hair looked blank and empty, which felt like a good reflection of my life at the moment. Going back to my pink hair would have felt like putting on a costume.

  But I couldn’t say that to Megan. Not when she was looking at me almost like a stranger.

  “So, uh…what have you been up to? Did you get my texts?”

  She glanced around, as if people would be watching us. But no one was. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

  “How’s your new school?”

  “It’s not new,” she said. “I’ve been there for two months.”

  Yeah, but she’d never returned my calls when I wanted to ask her about it. So it was new to me. Jared went there, too, which meant I knew a little about Sacred Heart Academy itself. But he was a senior and she was a junior; they didn’t have any classes together. Therefore I knew absolutely nothing about how Megan was doing.

  And she wasn’t talking, so apparently that wasn’t going to change.

  “I got a car for Christmas,” I said, grasping now, trying to provoke some kind of response.

  It didn’t work. Megan’s eyes flickered to meet mine briefly, then flickered away. She gazed at the wall over my head, at the floor, at the front hallway—everywhere but at me.

  “Great,” she said.

  She didn’t even care what kind it was.

  “Megan.” My voice was thin and strained and so pathetic that I hated myself. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

  Her nostrils flared. “No, of course not.”

  “Then why won’t you—”

  “I can’t believe Carter and Zoe are together,” she said, studying her bracelet. “It’s so weird.”

  I had to make a conscious effort not to squeeze my cup until it collapsed. “What?”

  Finally, she looked directly at me. “He and Zoe Perry are kind of a thing now. It happened a week or two ago, I guess.…You didn’t know?”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t know.” I took a sharp breath in and leaned back away from the table. Even though part of me had expected it to happen eventually, I hadn’t known it would feel like this—like being punched in the soul.

  “Sorry,” Megan said. “I just figured you’d been to some of the parties and—”

  “I don’t go to a lot of parties,” I said.

  “But…you have a new boyfriend, right?” she asked. “That guy from my school?”

  “Jared,” I said. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Her lips pressed tightly together, and she looked around for an escape. “I’m sorry, Alexis. Truly. But I…I have to go. Maybe we’ll run into each other later.”

  I nodded and forced a painful half smile, feeling the muscles in my jaw pull tight as she walked away.

  Then, as if on cue, I glanced up at the door and saw them enter together: Carter and Zoe, her hand clenched around his. I was inordinately relieved that at least he’d cut his blond hair short, so she couldn’t reach up and touch his soft blond curls the way I’d always done.

  A few short months ago, Zoe had been a shining, golden girl—all sweetness and smiles. Needless to say, that was before she took the oath and joined the Sunshine Club.

  She’d come through the experience a little less sunny than most of the members, to put it mildly. For starters, she’d cut her long blond hair and dyed it dark magenta. And she’d ditched the preppy clothes—or rather, thrashed them. Everything she wore was like a torn, wrinkled, ripped version of its former self.

  With a jolt that felt like a zillion watts of electricity, Carter’s eyes met mine, and he snatched his hand out of Zoe’s. It felt like he’d done it for me, to protect me from having to see them together.

  Part of me was grateful, but part of me—a much bigger part—felt like the knife, once it had pierced the surface of my heart, might as well go all the way through.

  I checked the time on my phone. Eight thirty—still three and a half hours till midnight. I stared at the numbers for a moment and then sat back.

  Megan seemed to be slinking around the edges of the party, staying as far from me as she could, and Kasey was planted in the center of a group of kids, a glittery gold party hat stuck on her head, and her eyes squinting shut as she laughed at something. I watched her, aware of how relieved it made me to see her having fun, being goofy. It was everything I wanted for her.

  So I relaxed—minutely.

  A figure came and stood in front of me, almost obscuring my view of my sister.

  I sat up straight.

  “Yawn,” Lydia said. With a flat smile, she swept her hand across the surface of the table. It passed through most of the dishes but caught on my punch cup, which clattered to the floor, spilling bright red liquid all over the pale floor tiles.

  The room fell silent, and everyone looked at me.

  “Whoops,” Lydia said.

  A few seconds later, Pepper Laird came over with a roll of paper towels. The captain of the cheerleading squad kneeling to clean up my mess. I imagined it wouldn’t be long before Kasey’s invitations didn’t automatically include me anymore.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to help clean up, but more concerned with keeping an eye on Lydia.

  “Sorry,” Lydia mimicked. “Still kissing up to the cheerleaders. Oh, Pepper, please forgive me. You make me sick.”

  She disappeared, and I looked around frantically. There were easily a dozen former Sunshine Club members here. I didn’t want any of them to end up comatose like Kendra.

  “No big deal,” Pepper said, but I could tell she was annoyed. She stood up, her hands full of sopping-wet napkins.

  This whole night was a mistake. I grabbed my bag. “I’d better go. Thanks for letting me come. Sorry about the mess.”

  Pepper had to get to the trash can before she got dripped on, so she couldn’t protest even if she’d wanted to, which, frankly, I don’t think she did. I got up and headed for the door, with Lydia walking backward in front of me.

  “Leaving so soon?” She drew up all of her energy and bumped into a kid who was perched on a barstool. He grunted in surprise as he almost fell off, then steadied himself and shot me an irritated look.

  “Pardon me,” I said. I turned around to look for Kasey. I had to tell her I was leaving, but I couldn’t risk going back through the crowd.

  As I got to the front hall, the guest bathroom door opened and Megan came out. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I have to go. Um…could you do me a favor and tell my sister?”

  Megan’s forehead wrinkled. “Why don’t you tell her?”

  “Megan’s looking well,” Lydia said. “Too bad she wasn’t the one who died. Then you might be the tiniest bit sorry.”

  As she said that, she swung her arm at Megan’s forehead. I flinched as it went through and came out the other side.

  “Oh, no…not another migraine.” Megan winced and rubbed her temple. “So listen. There’s this thing I’ve been doing at school—on Tuesday afternoons—it’s like a club.…”

  I listened, trying to keep an eye out for Lydia.

  “And I was thinking, if you want to come with me sometime, maybe…”

  “Yes,” I said. “What time? Where?”

  She half laughed. “Don’t you even want to know what it is?”

  “No. I don’t care.”

  For a moment she looked as if she regretted mentioning it at all. “Tuesday, four forty-five, at the Sacred Heart Community Hall. The entrance is on Poplar Street.”

  “Great,” I said, glancing around.

  Oh, jeez. Lydia was studying the giant tropical aquarium in the dining room.

  My mere presence put every living creature around me in danger, regardless of species. I f
elt like a ticking time bomb. “I have to go,” I said. “Never mind about Kasey—I’ll just text her.”

  “I can tell her if you need me to,” Megan said. I heard a razor-thin edge of judgment in her voice.

  “No, don’t worry,” I said. “Bye.”

  But as I reached the front door, I heard my sister shout my name. She was pushing through the crowd to get to me.

  “You’re leaving?” Kasey asked. “What happened?”

  I looked around before I stopped. Lydia was gone.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Do you think maybe Keaton could drive you home? Otherwise I’ll come back and get you at one o’clock.”

  “What?” Immediately, she was suspicious. “Where are you going, Lexi?”

  “Nowhere. Away.”

  “Why?” She pursed her lips, clearly not looking to take any of my nonsense.

  “Because you’re a coward and a freak, that’s why,” Lydia said, popping out behind me.

  “I just…” I gestured around the room, which seemed overpoweringly jammed with bodies. “There are too many people here.”

  My sister followed me all the way out to my car, exhaling loudly through her nose to convey how annoyed she was. I pulled my gray hoodie over the shirt she’d made me wear—black and gauzy, with ruffles around the neck—and slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “When is this going to end?” she asked, her voice breaking. “When are you going to let it go?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “Now get back inside. It’s about to rain.”

  Kasey stared at me, on the verge of protesting. Then she stormed back up the front walk.

  I watched her go, thinking, You have no idea how lucky you are.

  The Sunshine Club ended up being an evil cult designed to feed on its members’ free will and life energy, but it started out as a scheme to become beautiful and popular. And maybe the craziest thing was—it had actually worked, kind of. Sure, the paranormal perks were gone, but the charm, the poise—all of the things that grew better with practice—that stuff stuck.

  As for the club’s evil supernatural roots, for the most part the other girls had managed to convince themselves and everyone around them that the whole thing was just a mild case of mass hysteria. The longer they told themselves that, the more they believed it. And why not? Let’s be realistic—the alternative was crazy.

  A few of us didn’t make it out unscathed—me, Zoe, Megan, Lydia. And poor Emily Rosen was being home-schooled and treated for PTSD. But for the lucky ones, that magic too-good-to-be-true popularity pill wasn’t actually too good to be true. It was just…true.

  Of course, all that could change. Their perfect lives could end in death and destruction if I didn’t find a way to stop Lydia.

  I kicked off my ballet flats and pressed my bare foot against the brake pedal, relishing the feel of its hard rubber ridges beneath my toes.

  “Oh, snap. Did I wreck your party?” Lydia materialized in the passenger seat. “Is Alexis scared? Is she running home with her tail between her legs?”

  “Shut up,” I said, on edge but relieved that she’d followed me instead of staying inside.

  She made a pouty face. “Waaaaah. Lexi wants to be alone. Lexi hates herself. Well, join the club. I hate you, too.”

  I turned the key and buckled my seat belt.

  Lydia made an irritated noise and faded out of sight.

  Until she’d attacked me—and then Kendra—I’d thought she wasn’t a very powerful ghost. But now I had to be constantly on guard. Because apparently it’s not hard for a weak ghost to get strong—

  And dangerous.

  I DROVE AWAY FROM THE LAIRDS’ upscale neighborhood toward the empty highways that led out of town, stretching the speed limit in my rush to get away from civilization.

  On the seat next to me, my phone lit up with a text message. The word mom flashed onscreen. I figured I’d better reply before I ended up grounded, so I pulled onto the shoulder.

  K SAID YOU LEFT PARTY ARE YOU COMING HOME?

  NOT YET, I texted. GETTING COFFEE.

  A second later, her reply came through.

  :-/

  “What’s wrong?” Lydia asked, fading in. “Tired? Dejected? Suicidal? Don’t let me stop you if you had any, you know, plans.”

  I took a deep breath, shut off the engine, and stared out the window. I was surrounded by farmland, no cars or houses in sight.

  What Lydia had done to Kendra erased any doubt in my mind that she needed to be eliminated. But even a week after Kendra had been found, something still kept me from going to Lydia’s house and facing her parents. I kept coming up with excuses—places to go, rooms of the house that needed scrubbing, distant school projects that needed urgent attention.

  The girls from the Sunshine Club were in danger, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. But the only reason Lydia had any power over me was that I gave it to her. All wrapped up with a pretty bow.

  “Lydia.” I steeled myself and tried to sound assertive. “I’m only going to have this conversation with you once. This has to stop.”

  “Or what?” she sneered.

  “Well, let’s see. I got rid of the hundred-year-old evil ghost that possessed my sister and tried to kill our dad. I got rid of Aralt in a room full of twenty-two people who wanted to kill me. So, no offense—but I think I could take you.”

  She tossed her hair. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, leave me—and all the other girls—alone, and I’ll leave your power center alone.”

  Her mocking smile disappeared.

  To a ghost, a power center isn’t something you joke about. They’re automatically driven to protect it, to prolong their existence—whether they have something worth existing for or not.

  Kind of like the rest of us, I guess.

  Lydia glared at me, arms crossed. “You wouldn’t dare. Don’t forget, you’re already responsible for my death. That would be like killing me twice.”

  Her words sent a spike of dread up my spine, but I was determined not to let her sense it. “Please believe me,” I said, “when I say it would be my absolute pleasure.”

  She pouted. “Lighten up! I was just having fun.”

  I wondered what part of putting Kendra into a coma or almost steering me into a murky canal seemed fun to her. I reached for my key. “Forget it,” I said. “I’ll just go to your house and do it right now.”

  “No!”

  “Then leave,” I said. “You have five seconds. Leave all of us alone. Forever.”

  She gave me a disgusted look. “You are extremely oversensitive, Alexis.”

  “One,” I said. “Two—”

  She disappeared.

  A magnificent silence filled the car.

  I closed my eyes and soaked it in for a minute before I reached down to start the ignition. The engine made a sound like it was going to turn over—but then it whined and died out.

  “No,” I said. “Come on. Not tonight.”

  I tried again. Nothing.

  The first drop of rain thumped like a drumbeat on the roof of the car. Then another, and another. Soon it was pouring.

  I couldn’t call my parents. I didn’t have a boyfriend. My best friend seemed reluctant to even acknowledge my existence. I was stranded.

  Then I remembered that there was one person who might care—who might come if I called him.

  I stood out in the sheeting rain and flagged Jared down—which may not have been necessary, considering the only thing besides me and my car was miles of farmland, furrowed in deep rows, with a low, dense winter carpet of clover. He parked his Jeep nose-to-nose with my car and got out, wearing a yellow poncho. He hurried over and offered me an umbrella.

  “What’s the use?” I yelled over the storm. “I’m already soaked!”

  We opened our hoods and he hooked up a pair of jumper cables between the cars. When he turned his car on, I tried mine again. This time the engine rumbled and
came to life.

  Jared disconnected everything, neatly rolling the cables and stowing them in his trunk. Then he came back over and watched me close my hood.

  “Thanks a lot,” I yelled. “I didn’t know who else to call. ”

  “Anytime,” he yelled back.

  There was a pause.

  “What are you doing so far out of town, anyway?” he yelled.

  I shrugged and yelled, “Nothing, really. So…I’ll call you this week or something?”

  He hesitated, then pulled me into a loose, tentative hug and backed away, giving me a little wave as he walked to his car.

  I sat in my driver’s seat, soaking my upholstery but absolutely powerless to do anything about it. According to the clock, it was nine fifteen. The cold began to seep through my clothes and chill my skin.

  My cell phone rang. Jared. With shivering fingers, I flipped it open.

  “Hi,” I said. “Thanks again.”

  “No problem,” he said. The rain still roared in the background, but at least we didn’t have to shout to hear each other. “So…I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and have some hot chocolate or something. Dad’s out of town, and I just didn’t feel like going to any parties tonight.”

  I knew he didn’t mean Dad’s out of town, wink wink. Mr. Elkins was hardly ever home even when he was in town. That didn’t automatically equal debauchery.

  “Well…thanks.” For a moment, I was tempted. I really did like spending time with Jared. But then my loner instincts kicked in, and before I could stop myself, I was saying, “But I think I’ll just go home.”

  “All right,” he said. “Make sure you get into some dry clothes.”

  I said I would, and we hung up. Then I wrapped my hands around my steering wheel and stared out at the road, determined not to think about the note of hurt I’d heard in his voice.

  I tried to cheer myself up by remembering that I didn’t have to go straight home—I could go get coffee, like I’d told Mom.

  But the rain came down in torrents, and suddenly I realized that I wasn’t remotely interested in sitting in a coffee shop, having everyone stare at me in my soaking-wet clothes, wondering why I was alone on a major party holiday. Only slightly less awful was the prospect of facing my parents and having to explain why I’d left the party early.