Charade (Heven & Hell)

by Cambria Hebert

  My thoughts were interrupted when Mrs. Britt introduced the teacher’s assistant that was coming along on the trip to help chaperone. She was a tall woman with strikingly sharp features and dark brown eyes. Her dark hair was long and curled down her back. When she walked in, most the male students sat up a little straighter.

  “This is Ms. Merriweather, everyone. She will be assisting us in our studies abroad.” Ms. Merriweather gave us all a wide smile and a small wave. “We are very lucky to have her,” Mrs. Britt continued, “because she speaks perfect Italian and has actually lived in Rome for a time. She will be very helpful in getting us around.”

  The new lady stepped forward and spoke up. “Please, call me Tabitha, and I am very excited to have this opportunity. I’m very sure that we will all have such a wonderful time together.”

  “What happened to Mrs. Malone?” Cole whispered toward Sam and me.

  I shrugged. Mrs. Malone was supposed to be the chaperone with Mrs. Britt. She was the home economics teacher. “I don’t know,” I whispered back.

  As if she heard, Ms. Merriweather’s eyes snapped up to where we were sitting. I fell silent and slumped a little in my seat.

  “Way to go,” Kimber muttered. “Pin us as the bad ones before we even take off.”

  I didn’t bother to reply because Ms. Merriweather was still watching us. I focused on her aura, but it wasn’t anything unusual or even stunning. In fact, it looked a lot like my mom and Henry’s the last few times I saw them: calm and cool, relaxed and happy with a lot of blues and greens. I hoped that meant that she would be easy to get along with. She looked up at us again and I smiled, hoping to impart the message that we wouldn’t be problem students.

  From beside me, Kimber groaned then cursed beneath her breath, and without warning, a clipboard slammed across my lap. I jerked and both Sam and Cole whipped around to see what was happening. I focused down on the paper in my lap. It looked like some sort of chart… for hotel roommates.

  Uh-oh.

  Never mind the fact that we had to share a room, which meant Sam and I weren’t going to be able to sleep in the same bed, but I had a sinking suspicion that I wasn’t going to like my bunk mate. I scanned the list for my name and used my finger to go across to the next column to see who my roommate would be… Kimber.

  Great.

  I glanced at Kimber and offered her a tentative smile and she practically sneered at me. “Prepare for a memorable trip, roomie.”

  My stomach knotted. No way were we going to be able to share a hotel room for two weeks and not kill each other. Just as I was about to raise my hand and request a change, Mrs. Britt announced, “There will be no changes to the roommate roster. I expect everyone to get along and cause no problems… or else.”

  Wonderful. I glanced at Sam and he patted my leg while pulling the clipboard from my lap. I looked over his shoulder to see who he was paired with. He let out a snort and handed the clipboard across Logan to Cole.

  Who’d you get? I asked.

  Your brother.

  I snickered. That should be interesting.

  Finally, the meeting ended and students began filing out. Sam and Logan made their way to the stairs. Kimber stood and gathered her bag and turned to walk away. “Kimber.” I reached out and grasped her hand.

  Her shoulders tensed, but she turned. “What?”

  “Can’t we put all this behind us and be friends again?”

  “Are you serious? You stole my boyfriend, you’ve been a lousy best friend, and to top it off you’re a liar.”

  “I’ve never lied to you,” I protested, hating myself. In a way, I had lied to her by omitting many things about myself, Sam and even Cole. But those things were only done to protect her, not to harm her.

  She snorted. “So you’re telling me that Cole didn’t dump me because of you?”

  “No, he didn’t.” I turned and looked at Cole for some back up.

  He sighed and stepped forward. “Come on, Kimmie.”

  The use of his nickname for her seemed to anger her more. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Fine.” He gritted his teeth. “But, I told you, this is not Heven’s fault.”

  “So you said,” she snapped. “But yet every time I turn around, you’re at her house, or at her work, hell, you even sat with her today!”

  “I thought we were all friends,” he said.

  “Not anymore,” Kimber said, yanking her hand from my grasp and rushing away.

  I turned on Cole. “What happened with you two?” I demanded. “You should have told me you broke up.”

  “It just happened last night.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s just things are different now. I feel different and Kimmie just…” He sighed and sat down on the bleacher.

  “Yeah, I know. You feel different.” I reminded him of our little conversation the night he came over and was a little drunk.

  “Damn beer,” he muttered, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s for the best anyway. I don’t want her involved in everything that’s going on.”

  “I get it,” I said sadly, sitting down next to him and laying my hand on his shoulder. “Did you at least tell her about our father?”

  “No,” he said. “I told my mom I wouldn’t tell a bunch of people. She isn’t dealing with this so well and the idea of word getting out…”

  “Yeah. Okay.” I stared forward, trying to think of something to say, to do, anything to make any of this easier. Ms. Merriweather was dawdling at the bottom of the bleachers. When I first looked her way, she was staring at us with a thoughtful expression on her face. When she noticed me looking, she turned away, but I had a feeling she was listening to our conversation. Sam and Logan were already standing down at the bottom behind her, waving at me to hurry up.

  “Come on,” I said, standing. “Let’s go.”

  The four of us walked outside, none of us speaking until we made it to our cars. Cole was the first to climb in his truck and back up, but before driving away, he stopped and rolled his window down. He didn’t look at me, though, but at Sam. “So I’ll see you later on at the farm… for training?”

  Sam’s eyes widened like he forgot, but then he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Training?” Logan asked. “What kind of training?”

  “I’ll tell you about it in a few,” Sam answered quickly.

  I wondered again what was going on with Sam and exactly what it had to do with Logan.

  “Cool.” Cole nodded at Sam and then gave me a wave before driving away.

  “He seems awfully eager to get his butt kicked,” Sam mused, watching the truck pull out of sight.

  “I don’t think he’s thinking about getting his butt kicked so much as who is going to be kicking it,” I murmured.

  Sam whistled between his teeth. “Gemma and Cole?”

  “He’s interested—that much I know. It’s all over his aura.”

  Sam laughed. “Something tells me Gemma would be a handful.”

  I didn’t think it was very funny. Cole already had his hands full with an angry ex-girlfriend hell bent on revenge.

  * * *

  Maybe what I did next wasn’t the most intelligent thing ever, but still. I had to see if my friendship with Kimber had any chance of survival. I felt bad for the way things had been going and for the fact that she was hurt. And I knew she was hurting. I have been friends long enough with Kimber to know when she was putting up a front and she definitely was. Kimber was really good at making people see what she wants them to see: a spoiled daddy’s girl whose only worry was what to wear the next day and what flavor coffee she was going to drink. She’s gotten so good at the charade that even, I, her used-to-be best friend, bought into it.

  With Sam spending a few hours this afternoon with Logan (I still didn’t know what was going on) and then his training session with Cole and Gemma (a training session he didn’t really want me around to watch), I figured that now was as go
od as any time to see if our friendship was salvageable because, deep down, I still hoped it was.

  I turned onto the street that led to her house and drove slowly past the huge lake-front homes while I wondered if she would even let me in.

  See, the real Kimber feels as alone and insecure as the rest of us—if not more. Her parents ignore her and barely notice when she is around. She’s come to think that having money and popularity is the only way she’ll ever get noticed. In a sad way, it’s worked for her. But there is a price for popularity, which I learned too well last year after my accident and was left scarred. The more popular you get, the more you have to hide because if one thing gets out that goes against that perfect image you crafted for yourself, then it’s all over. Kimber may not realize it, but high school friends are fickle and only looking for the next thing (or person) that can make them feel like somebody. I’d guess that right about now, Kimber’s perfectly crafted world is tumbling around her, and her only ‘real’ anchors (me and Cole) were gone.

  I pushed away the niggling thought that maybe Kimber had been using me all those years to gain her popularity and maybe we just weren’t that good of friends. I didn’t want to think that way. Kimber and I did have some great times before my life took a wild turn. I wasn’t ready to believe that those good times were all for the sake of her popularity.

  I took a deep breath and knocked at the front door, waiting to see who would answer. I was beginning to think no one was going to answer when the door cracked open, and through the small space, I could see Kimber’s green eye staring at me.

  “Go away.” She started to close the door, but I threw my palms against it and pushed.

  “I want to talk.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “I brought you a mocha with whipped cream…” I sang, dangling the cup in front of the crack.

  The door opened and I suppressed a smile. She snatched the cup from my fingers and started to close the door again.

  “Hey!” I yelled and pushed myself inside.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Are your parents home?”

  “No.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared from sight. I knew where she was going and followed, making it through her bedroom door just before she slammed it.

  “Look,” I began, feeling a light breeze from the window and turning. “Why is your window open?”

  “Huh?” She placed her coffee on her dresser and went to the window and closed it. “I felt like some air.”

  “You never open the window. You don’t like bugs and your parents run the AC.”

  “You came all the way over here to discuss my window?” She lifted a brow.

  “I wanted to apologize for hurting you. I was hoping we could come to some sort of truce before we leave for Italy.”

  “You mean so I don’t make you miserable during our trip?”

  “No,” I said, working to hold onto my patience. “I thought we were friends.”

  “Well we aren’t. Not anymore.”

  “There are things you don’t know about Cole,” I began. “And when you find out, you’ll understand everything. I swear.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “So you know about all of these things that Cole is ‘going through?’”

  Oh, boy. That didn’t really come out right. “Sort of.”

  She laughed. “You have some nerve. You sure are full of yourself since you got rid of those scars.”

  The barb stung, but I refused to let it show. “I need you to trust me. When you find out…”

  “Tell me now then!” She flung the words at me in challenge.

  “I can’t. It’s not my information to share.”

  “You can leave now. I have packing to do.” She went into her bathroom without looking back.

  I looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Coming here had been a huge mistake. Kimber was too angry and hurt to listen. At least I could leave knowing I did everything I could to repair our ‘friendship.’ Maybe she was right. Maybe we never had a real friendship to begin with.

  Just as I was about to leave, I noticed something sitting on her dresser. I’d been in this room a million times and I had never seen it before. It wasn’t very large and looked like a box you might get a bracelet in. It was wood with a small silver clasp on the outside. I found myself moving forward and reaching out to pick it up. My fingers closed over the smooth surface and I realized that it wasn’t wood at all-but metal made to look like wood. My fingers itched to open it and see what was lying inside…

  “Snoop much?” Kimber snapped and grabbed the box out of my hands, tucking it into the pocket of the fluffy pink robe she was wearing.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “What’s inside?” I knew she wouldn’t answer, but I had to ask.

  “Geez, can’t you take a hint? Get out!” she yelled. The bathroom door behind her slammed shut as if to punctuate her scream.

  Her eyes went wide and she jumped, looking over her shoulder at the door. When she turned back, her face was pale.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Like you care.” The cloud of worry around her dissipated and red took its place.

  “I do.” I reminded her.

  “You need to leave,” she said, much softer this time. Another cloud of brownish-yellow surrounded her head.

  “You can talk to me, you know.”

  For a minute, I thought she might say something, but then the walls around her went back up and she said, “I’ll talk to you when you talk to me.”

  “I can’t tell you Cole’s business.” Or mine.

  Her shoulders slumped and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe. I imagined her hand closing tightly over that mysterious box. “Please, go.”

  I went without looking back. Clearly, she was agitated, and my presence only made things worse. I climbed into Gran’s car with a heavy heart. I came here for answers and I got them. Kimber’s and my friendship was dead and there was nothing I could do to resurrect it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Heven

  I hated sleeping alone. Without Sam, the bed felt too large, the room too cold. Even though he said he would be here, I watched the minutes turn to hours on the clock. Still no Sam. I tried not to be upset with him because I knew that he wanted to be here.

  So I blamed Logan, instead.

  But really that wasn’t fair, either, because even though Sam hadn’t told me yet, I knew that there was a lot going on with Logan. Something must have happened this morning—something that Sam needed to be with Logan for. Still, I couldn’t quite ignore the nagging feeling that Logan was trying to keep Sam away.

  But why would he want to do that?

  Something didn’t make sense. I just didn’t know what it would be.

  I rolled over and punched my pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh and resisted the urge to reach out to Sam and find out what he was doing. Doing so would only distract him and cause him to worry that something might be wrong here. I sat up, taking a sip of water and squeezing the back of my neck with my free hand. The pressure was back, sending small sparks of pain through my brain. I rubbed at my temples next, but nothing I did lessened the pain.

  I flopped back onto the pillows and pulled the covers to my chin. With one last look at the clock, I rolled over, putting my back to it. Sam would be here when he could. Until then, I would sleep. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to concentrate on my breathing, taking long, deep breaths. Finally, I drifted into slumber.

  I should have stayed awake.

  As soon as my body surrendered to sleep, I felt like I was being sucked through a tunnel, all the air being sucked right out of my lungs. My stomach was tossed up into my throat right before I landed forcefully on a hard surface, flat on my back. With a groan, I opened my eyes. It wasn’t quite dark, but the lighting was dim and murky. Almost like a terrible storm had just passed, but the
black, heavy clouds still hung low in the air, sucking out the life and creating a sallow, depressing cast to everything.

  I stood up, noting that I was still dressed in the black shorts and white baby tee I wore to bed. My T-shirt was smudged with something that looked like soot. The back of my head throbbed as I took stock of where I was. The landscape around me was colorless and barren. The rocky, uneven ground consisted of dirt and chunks of shale that cut into my bare feet. It appeared that there once might have been trees, but now they were nothing more than broken limbs and stumps jutting out of the ground. All of them looked like they had burned in a fire. It would explain the soot on my clothes and the ash in the air. It would explain the desolate, dead way everything appeared.

  Come to me.

  I felt the power in his voice. It was raw and strong, and before I could think better of it, I was walking forward. I knew I should be frightened, part of me was. The other part of me knew that I was dreaming. People couldn’t get hurt in their dreams, could they? I didn’t think so. I walked on, curious about this place and the pull of the power that summoned me.

  As I walked, the world around me changed very little. I came upon a river flowing alongside where I walked; its water was thick and black like oil. And it smelled. It smelled of sulfur and death. I veered away from the water, feeling a little sick, and came upon a valley. Before venturing down, I stopped on the hill and studied the scene below me.

  There were demons. Lots of them. Some were fighting with one another, screaming and biting, causing pain where they could. Others were raiding the few shacks that scattered the area. The tiny broken buildings would shudder under the attacks, but none fell down. A few small fires burned around them, but no one seemed to care. I took a step backward, wanting to get away from the horrible scene. Unfortunately, my movement caught their attention.

  Every demon below stopped what they were doing and turned toward me. I felt the hatred and excitement from their beady, soulless eyes burn right through my core.