Rowan

by Josephine Angelini

  “Not going to happen, Jules,” Lily replied cheerfully as she went to let Tristan inside. She pulled the door open and smiled at him, her stomach filling with butterflies even though she saw him every day.

  “What did you do to your hair?” Tristan immediately asked, a scowl forming on his face.

  Lily’s hand darted up automatically to smooth her already smooth hair, her excitement disappearing. “Juliet did it for me.”

  “Hey, Tristan,” Juliet called out.

  “What’s up, Jules?” he called back in greeting.

  “You don’t like it?” Lily asked him, feeling defensive. This wasn’t how she’d imagined this moment at all. After she’d spent hours sweating it out under a hair dryer, he was supposed to be staring at her slack-jawed.

  “It’s okay.” Tristan shrugged in a noncommittal way, his eyes scanning her. “What are you wearing?”

  “A dress.”

  “Kinda little, isn’t it?” He grimaced. “I can see, like, all of you.”

  “Oh, the horror,” Lily deadpanned. She pushed him outside and called back to her sister. “’Night, Jules.”

  “Have fun,” Juliet said, her face apologetic. Lily gave her sister a pained look before she closed the door and followed Tristan to his car. He didn’t start the engine immediately. He turned to Lily, starting to say something, but Lily cut him off.

  “The next thing you say had better be a compliment,” she said incredulously. “Tristan. I’m wearing makeup. This may never happen again.”

  Tristan shut his mouth and started the car. He pulled out of the driveway and was halfway down the street before he spoke. “Cute shoes.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

  They drove the rest of the way to Scot’s in comfortable silence. Scot’s street was already lined with cars. He had the kind of parents who went out of town a lot and didn’t seem to mind that their son threw huge parties in their absence. They had to know about it—everyone in town knew about Scot’s parties—but since being the “party guy” made Scot incredibly popular, his parents turned a blind eye to the whole thing. All they asked for was plausible deniability in front of the other kids’ parents, and Scot was good about that. He always hid the valuables, covered the furniture, and cleaned up thoroughly before his parents got home.

  “Vomit,” Tristan warned, yanking Lily out of way before she could step in a chunky, orange puddle in the grass.

  “Good eye.”

  “Lots of practice. Scot’s front yard is always touch and go.”

  Lily slowed down and tried to take shallow breaths. A bunch of kids were smoking out front on the wraparound deck, and she could smell it halfway across the yard. Several of the smokers spotted Tristan and started calling out to him, peering through the gloom at the girl on his arm.

  “Hey, man! You made it. Who’s that with you?” a kid everyone called Breakfast asked. Lily realized no one recognized her without the usual meringue of curly hair on top of her head.

  “Hey, Breakfast. It’s me. Lily.”

  “Lily?” Breakfast immediately put his cigarette behind his back—thoughtful, but like that would help. “Are you okay? I mean does this bother you?”

  Her eyes were watering, but she smiled and waved at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She didn’t want to make him feel bad. She liked Breakfast. He’d always been a bit on the goofy side, but he had a way of winning people over—even the bullies who wanted to harass him.

  “Lily?” Tristan’s brow creased with worry, and he tugged on her arm, angling her away from the smoke.

  “I’m fine. Come on.”

  They left Breakfast and his smoking buddies on the porch with a parting wave and went inside. More people called Tristan’s name as soon as they spotted him, like he was a celebrity.

  It’s not that everyone loved Tristan. In fact, most of the guys glared at him as he passed, their jealousy palpable. Everyone either wished they were Tristan or that they were with him, and he knew it, but the attention didn’t make him stuck-up. It made him cautious. As Lily fielded some withering glances of her own, she finally understood why Tristan had always worked so hard to maintain their friendship. He didn’t have that many real friends. But then again, neither did Lily.

  Lily smiled and waved at a girl from her poetry class whose writing had always impressed her. The smart girl, Una, waved back politely, but then returned to her conversation without inviting Lily to join her. It wasn’t meant as an insult—they just didn’t know each other outside of school. To be honest, Lily hadn’t really hung out with anyone besides Tristan since her mother started screaming destructive nonsense in public. After that, most girls were only nice to Lily so they could get closer to Tristan.

  It had hurt a lot more than she would ever admit. Once she’d realized she was being used, Lily had become guarded around anyone who tried to be friendly toward her—even people who didn’t deserve it. Her chilliness had been a twisted form of self-preservation. But now that they were so near the end of high school, Lily regretted how she had behaved toward some of the girls in her class. Like Una.

  “Hey, man,” Scot said smoothly as he greeted Tristan. “Wow. Lily. I think this is a first.”

  Scot faced Lily, taking in her altered appearance. He was a big guy, as tall as Tristan, if not quite as developed, and Lily had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. He stood close to Lily, smiling down at her in a friendly way. Scot had always seemed a bit too sly to Lily, like he was trying to find an angle on any situation, and she’d avoided him because of it. Now she wondered if she had judged him too harshly. He had a nice smile, she decided. Lily didn’t want to be the snide, cold loner anymore. She wanted to be a part of her class—if only for a few months.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Lily asked, smiling back at him.

  “Are you kidding? I’m going to have to throw another party to celebrate you actually showing up to one of my parties.” Scot flashed his smile even wider, making Lily feel truly welcome. “Drink?”

  “I’ll have a beer. Water for Lily,” Tristan answered. Scot raised an eyebrow. “Lily doesn’t drink,” Tristan stressed, a hint of a warning in his voice.

  “That’s cool. I’m not drinking tonight, either,” Scot said as he waded through the crowd to the kitchen. He pulled a beer and a bottle of water out of a giant tub of ice on the counter and brought it over to them. “Just a heads-up. Miranda’s here,” Scot said as he politely opened the water bottle for Lily and handed it to her.

  “Christ,” Tristan said under his breath, scanning the growing crowd.

  “She’s downstairs in the family room. Dancing. Or stripping. I can’t figure out which at this point,” Scot said with a wry grimace. “Why don’t you go and talk to her before she comes up here and starts throwing things at you?”

  Tristan glanced at Lily, silently asking permission.

  “Go. Seriously. You need to take care of that,” Lily replied immediately, sounding much more encouraging than she felt.

  “I’ll keep Lily company,” Scot offered. “Make sure she doesn’t get trampled by the hockey team.” He gestured into the kitchen with his head, where four beefy dudes were downing shots and doing a lot of unnecessary shoving and bellowing.

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a bit,” Tristan finally decided. “Or I’ll be back in bits, depending on what kind of mood Miranda’s in.” He drank most of his beer in one gulp.

  “Courage, man,” Scot said bracingly, fixing Tristan’s shirt.

  “Thanks, dear,” Tristan replied, like they were husband and wife. Lily watched their joking around, feeling the warm glow of inclusion.

  When Tristan had gone, Scot took Lily’s elbow and steered her in the opposite direction. “I think it would be a good idea to keep you as far away from Miranda as possible.”

  “There’s no reason for her to be upset with me,” Lily said.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Scot stopped to admire her. “You really look great toni
ght.”

  Lily dropped her eyes, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Thanks.”

  “Look out.” Scot grabbed Lily’s arm and pulled her toward him suddenly, making her drop her bottle of water. Behind Lily, two drunk girls stumbled past, debating which path to the bathroom would lead them by the cutest boys.

  “Sorry about that,” Scot said after the girls had left. “I’ll get you another.”

  “It’s okay, really,” Lily began, but Scot had already picked up the bottle and was making his way to the kitchen. Lily took some napkins off a nearby coffee table and mopped up the spilled water as best as she could while she waited for Scot. He came back moments later with a glass of bubbly red juice.

  “No more water. Sorry. The only thing in the fridge was cranberry juice and seltzer. I mixed them. Is that okay?”

  “It’s fine,” Lily said, taking a sip of her fizzy cranberry juice. It tasted a little sour, like it had gone bad, but she swallowed it and smiled anyway. “You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to, you know.”

  “I know.” It was Scot’s turn to blush. “I want to, though. I’ve always wanted to hang out with you. Did you know that?”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  Another wave of partygoers passing through the busy living room made Lily and Scot reposition themselves.

  “Do you want to go somewhere cooler?” he asked. “I know you get hot easily. Tristan told me once.”

  Lily was so surprised she just nodded. She had no idea that Scot knew anything more about her than her name.

  “How’s your drink?” he asked as he led her upstairs.

  “Great.” Lily took another big gulp to be polite, even though the mix of seltzer and cranberry burned her tongue a bit. “It’s really stuffy in here.”

  “There’s a balcony off my room.” Scot swung the door to his bedroom open and went inside. Lily stopped on the threshold. Something didn’t feel right.

  “You don’t have to worry,” he said, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture. He rushed over to the balcony doors on the other side of the room and opened them for Lily. She felt a gust of cool, clear air rush toward her and nearly sighed with pleasure. “It’s just, everyone’s smoking on the patio out front, and my room faces the back. You can leave the door open if that makes you more comfortable.”

  She felt stupid for doubting him.

  “It’s okay. And you’re right. I’d rather be on the non-smoking side of the house.” Lily resisted the urge to giggle. Her body felt warm and gooey. She crossed the bedroom and joined Scot on the balcony, breathing in the crisp air, trying to clear her head. “Can’t catch my breath.”

  “The heat got to you. Sit,” Scot urged, and Lily sank down next to him on the outdoor love seat.

  “This is really nice. I’ve never seen a teenager with his own balcony. But then again, I haven’t been in many guys’ rooms.” She had no idea why she’d just said that. For some reason, she felt like telling her life story, and she shut her mouth to stop herself from spilling her guts.

  “You’ve been in Tristan’s room,” Scot countered quietly.

  “Sure. Thousands of times.” Lily saw a question steal across Scot’s face, and then disappointment. “Oh—but not like that.”

  “Really?” Scot narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “Never? Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

  “We only just started seeing each other like that.” Lily started laughing. She had no idea what was so funny, she just couldn’t seem to stop herself. Lily took another sip of her drink, trying to calm down, but instead of cooling her off, the drink only made her feel hotter and more flushed. She put the sweating side of the glass against her cheek.

  Scot stared at her for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. “I knew you were it.”

  “What?”

  “The only girl in town he hasn’t been with yet.” Scot took the drink out of Lily’s hands and slid closer to her. She moved away and her back hit the arm of the love seat. Lily tried to stand up, but Scot leaned over her, putting his hand on the armrest and caging her against the cushions. Lily’s vision swam unsettlingly, and she froze, trying to keep the horizon from tilting back and forth.

  Lily was still trying to make the floor stop spinning underneath her when she felt Scot’s tongue in her mouth. She tried to squirm away but she felt dizzy, like any sudden movement would make her slip off the edge of the world. Heat prickled under her skin. She twisted her head and closed her mouth, evicting Scot’s slug-like tongue. Her skin burning with fever, Lily pushed against his chest.

  “Stop. Scot, stop now,” she managed to say as white and blue blobs of light flashed in front of her eyes.

  “Why?” he said, annoyed. “You think Tristan isn’t doing exactly the same thing right now?”

  “What do you mean?” Lily asked.

  “You really have no clue, do you?” Scot stood and pulled Lily up after him. “Okay. Let’s go find your brand-new boyfriend,” he said with a sneer. “Let’s see what he’s up to.”

  Scot nearly dragged Lily after him. Her legs were heavy and clumsy. As she stumbled down the steps, Lily heard a few bystanders on the landing say the word “drunk” and something clicked in her fuzzy head. Lily stopped dead and yanked on Scot’s arm, turning him around to face her.

  “Did you put alcohol in my drink?” she asked. She must have said it louder than she’d intended because the room got quiet all of a sudden. “Did you?” she repeated, intentionally raising her voice this time.

  “A little vodka,” Scot admitted with a casual shrug.

  “How could you do that?” she asked. The only other time Lily had tried alcohol, she’d spent the night in the ICU with a fever of 115 degrees. She ran her hand across her forehead, and it came back dripping sweat. “Oh, no.”

  Scot’s eyes widened with fear when he registered just how pale and sweaty Lily was. “It was half a shot. I swear,” Scot said, pleading his case to the gathering crowd.

  “Are you okay?” Breakfast asked in her ear.

  Bleary as her vision was, Lily felt Breakfast take her arm before she actually saw him do it. She leaned against him, her head spinning and her vision bending sickeningly around the edges.

  “Tristan. I need Tristan,” Lily whispered desperately. She felt a building sensation in her body, as if she were a roller coaster reaching the top of its climb. She knew that in a moment she would be powerless to stop the descent.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Breakfast said gently.

  “I need Tristan now!” Lily insisted, shouting over him.

  “He’s in there,” Breakfast said, pointing to a door a few steps away from where Lily was standing. It was the bathroom door.

  Breakfast kept a steadying hand on Lily’s arm while she knocked. Tristan didn’t answer her, but she could hear him talking to someone else in there. His voice sounded low and urgent. Something was terribly wrong. Lily pulled open the door.

  At first it didn’t make sense. Why would Tristan be half naked in Scot’s bathroom? Then Lily saw Miranda behind him. She had her bare back turned away from the door, but Lily didn’t need to see her face to recognize her long, bleached-blonde hair.

  “What?” Lily started to ask, and stopped herself. She knew what was going on—she just couldn’t believe it.

  Tristan finally managed to pull his shirt over his head and noticed Lily’s condition. “Lily,” he said, taking a step toward her.

  Revolted, Lily backed away from him, plowing into Breakfast. She latched on to Breakfast when her legs gave out. It felt as if her own clothes were smothering her. Her muscles began to twitch as the electrical storm in her overheated brain took over. Her arms and legs went rigid, and her entire body convulsed with the superhuman strength of a seizure.

  Frightened voices rose up from the crowd that had gathered around the humiliating scene. “What the hell is wrong with her? Is she’s having a fit?” the voices murmured.

  Breakfast guided Lily gent
ly down to the floor as the seizure descended on her in earnest. Blobs of light in her eyes and a clanging in her ears crowded out all of Lily’s other senses. She couldn’t feel anything. She was on the floor, her fever eating her up inside, and then it all shifted.

  She saw herself lying there, teeth clacking together, spine bowing and arching as her muscles pulled her bones and joints to their limits. She hovered there, above herself, watching her body tear itself apart. Then—she didn’t hear a girl’s voice, not exactly. It was fainter than that, like it was coming from far away, and the words were being placed inside her head.

  You are sick in this world.

  Lily wondered if she was talking to herself.

  Come to me and be the most powerful person in the world.

  But … I don’t want to go, Lily thought. The faint voice went away, and Lily fell back into her body.

  She saw Tristan’s face, desperate and yelling over hers, but all she heard was the whoosh of the blood in her veins. She tasted leather and blood. Hands held her down. She felt herself being lifted and carried. Pale faces, frightened faces, flashed past her.

  “Tristan?” she lisped. Something was in her mouth. She got her fingers to obey her enough to pull it out, and stared at a leather strap. A belt.

  “It’s okay, Lily,” Tristan said, his voice high and fearful. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “Won’t make it,” she whispered. Her tongue was so swollen it filled up her mouth. “Too hot.”

  “Okay,” he said, immediately understanding. “I’ll take you to Juliet.”

  Lily saw Breakfast running in front of them. He opened the car doors and helped Tristan put Lily in the front seat and buckle her up.

  “Oh my God. She’s burning,” Breakfast said in a quavering voice.

  “Just leave it. There’s no time,” Tristan growled. “Shut the door.”

  Breakfast obeyed and got in the back. Tristan sped to Lily’s house, and he and Breakfast carried her inside.

  “Tristan? What’s going on? What happened?” Juliet cried as soon as she saw Lily.

  “Some bastard slipped vodka into Lily’s drink. Get ice.”