The Witches of Santa Anna ( BKs 1-7 Complete Set)

by Lauren Barnholdt

  “And you’d do anything for me, anything to protect me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  I realize that I’m totally exhausted. I can barely keep my eyes open now. “Raine, I think I…I should go to sleep.”

  “I can let myself out, don’t worry,” she laughs. “Sleep tight, Cam.”

  And then everything fades out. I’m asleep before she even leaves my room.

  Chapter Three

  Natalia

  The thing about rumors is that people want to be believe them. It doesn’t matter if the rumor makes no sense, if it’s totally implausible, or if their gut tells them there’s no way it can be true.

  Which is why when Brody meets me at my locker on Tuesday morning and tells me that the Triad is on the warpath, spreading gossip about how I attacked Becca at the spa, I know everyone’s going to fall for it.

  “I can’t believe it,” I say, slamming my books into my locker one by one. Slam.

  Slam. Slam. My chemistry text is taking the brunt of my anger.

  “Wow,” Brody says, watching me, “I didn’t realize you were so violent.”

  “Only when I’m pissed,” I say. I’m out of books now, so I start on my notebooks.

  “Being pissed at the Triad is a waste of time,” Brody says, “They don’t care.

  They have no conscience. It doesn’t penetrate.”

  “I’m not mad at them,” I say. “I’m mad at myself.” Slam. Slam. Slam.

  “Yourself? Why?”

  “Because I should have known better.” All of my things are in my locker now, and I pull out the couple of books I need for my morning classes, shove them into my bag, and then give my locker door one final good, hard slam.

  “Whoa,” Brody says, stepping between me and my locker. He puts his hands on my arms. “Calm down, Rocky, we can’t have you destroying the junior hall.”

  “I just can’t believe I let them trick me,” I say. “I know girls like that are trouble.

  I didn’t even want to go to the stupid spa, but then….” I trail off, thinking about yesterday, about my fight with Cam in the parking lot, about Raine saving me from Derek.

  “Then what?” Brody asks.

  “Nothing.” I sigh. “It’s just frustrating that people have to be such assholes all the time.”

  “Definitely,” he says, nodding. He leans in close to me, and I can smell his aftershave, something sweet and spicy and delicious. “So is it all a lie?”

  “Is what all a lie?”

  “Everything they’re saying. That you punched Becca because you like Cam.”

  “They’re saying I punched her? The girl has a scratch on her face!”

  “So you scratched her?” he asks, grinning.

  “No! We were at the spa, getting pedicures, and the lights went out. Some kind of power outage or something.” I don’t mention the creepy stuff that happened, the way the three of them were looking at me before it happened, the whirring sound that wouldn’t get out of my head, or the fact that I kept seeing and feeling butterflies. “And when the lights came back on, Becca claimed that I’d scratched her.”

  “Well, it’s morphed into punch,” Brody says, his grin widening. “Rumor has it you have a mean right hook.”

  “Great.” I sigh. “Now I kind of wish that I had punched her. At least then I would have gotten something out of it.”

  “Nah,” he says, “You’re a lover, not a fighter.”

  “How do you know?”

  He shrugs. “Just do. But what about the other part?”

  “What other part?”

  “The part about you liking Cam? Is that true?”

  The question throws me off guard. I look at Brody. Brody looks at me, any sign of joking around disappearing from his face. “No,” I say, “No, I don’t like Cam.” Even saying his name makes my heart jump. But he made his choice. Raine. Not me.

  “Good,” Brody says, nodding in satisfaction. He takes my bag out of my hand and starts walking with me toward my homeroom. “So does this mean you’ll hang out with me after school?”

  “Depends,” I say, “Are you going to take me to a spa?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to make up a rumor that I punched you?”

  “No.” He considers. “Are you going to punch me?”

  “Only if you try something.”

  “Well, now that I can’t promise.”

  The bell rings then, and he hands me my bag. “See you at lunch?”

  “See you at lunch,” I say. And then I head into homeroom before I have a chance to run into the Triad.

  ***

  At lunch, I sit with Adrianna and Chelsey. They’ve heard the rumor about me and Becca, of course, but are nice enough not to mention that they tried to warn me about Raine Marsden. Brody sits with us, turning his back on his usual table, which makes me like him even more. Cam sits with Raine and the rest of Triad, not bothering to look over at me once. During study hall, I hole up in the library so that I won’t have to see him.

  By the time the final bell rings, I feel exhausted. The day’s taken a lot out of me, and so when Brody comes up behind me, puts his hands over my eyes and says, “Guess who?” I’m almost tempted to tell him that I can’t hang out after all. But before I can, he’s taking my hand and pulling me down the hall and out to the parking lot.

  It’s a warm day, in the mid-sixties, and so he drives us to Harvard Square. We order iced coffees from Café Crema and wander around for a while, poking into the shops and browsing through the Harvard bookstore.

  “I cannot believe there are people who actually understand this stuff,” Brody says, picking up a law textbook and flipping through it.

  “Well, they’ve had, like, three years to learn it,” I say. “And they’re constantly studying.”

  “Still.” He shakes his head and runs his eyes down the page. “Glued to these books, learning all this useless information…What a waste of time.”

  “Doesn’t your family expect you to do the same thing?” I tease. According to Adrianna and Chelsey, Brody comes from a long line of successful bankers. In his family, it seems like you’re expected to do one of two things – become a lawyer, or go into finance.

  “Yes,” he says, putting the book back on the shelf. “But that doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

  “So your family’s pretty chill about letting you do what you want?”

  “Well, they’re not going to like it,” he says, “But they’ll support me.”

  “That’s cool. My mom’s a lawyer, but she’s the same way. She wouldn’t care what I did.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  I think about it. “No idea,” I say, running my hand over the spine of the law books. “Maybe something with kids? Like a child psychologist?”

  He nods. “You’d be really good at that.” He says it like he means it, though, not like he’s just saying it to be polite. “Does that…I mean, do you want to go into psychology because of anything specific?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the way you kind of freaked out the other day,” he says. “At Raine’s?

  After I kissed you? I just thought that maybe you’d…had some experience in that area.”

  “You’re asking if I’m in therapy?”

  “Feel free to tell me to go fuck myself.”

  I grin. “Go fuck yourself.”

  He smiles back. “Fair enough.”

  “No,” I say, “I’m not in therapy. Not anymore. I mean, I never really was, I just started having these weird panic attacks last year, and so my mom made me go see this woman a couple times so I could learn how to deal with them.” I shrug. “Not a big deal.”

  Brody nods. “It’s good that you went to talk to someone. I think – ”

  “Brody?” A girl’s voice comes from the end of the aisle, and Brody turns.

  “Kaci?”

  “Hey.” She’s small, tiny even, short and very skinny, with blonde hair so light
it’s almost white. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that swallows up her frame. A huge pair of black sunglasses are perched on her head. “I’m just…um, I’m out on a pass.”

  “This is Natalia,” Brody says, stepping back. “Natalia, this is my sister, Kaci.”

  “Hi,” she says. She gives me a smile, and I smile back, holding my hand out.

  She hesitates, then takes it. When we shake, I can feel every bone in her fingers. And then I remember Raine telling me about Brody’s sister being in rehab.

  “Natalia,” Brody says, “Can you give us a second?”

  “Oh,” I say, “Of course. Sure.” I turn to Kaci and give her another smile. “It was nice to meet you, Kaci.”

  I walk around the bookstore for a few minutes, picking out a couple of cotton candy pink books from the front paperback tables to read for fun later, adding a few zombie books to round out the pile. I pay for my purchases and then circle back around to the law books where I left Brody with his sister.

  As I get closer, I can hear voices. Arguing.

  “Stop,” Kaci says, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do know what I’m talking about,” Brody says, “And it’s going to happen.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “Then you better step it up.”

  He shakes his head and laughs at her incredulously. “Whatever, Kaci,” he says,

  “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  He walks away from her, down the aisle, and I quickly backtrack and then head toward him, up another aisle, so he doesn’t know what I overheard.

  “Hey,” he says when he sees me. He gives me a big smile, looking at my bag.

  “Did you get some good stuff?”

  “Yup,” I say, “No law books allowed. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” he says, “Kaci’s, um.. she’s in the Cambridge Eating Disorder Clinic.

  And she was out on a pass for a couple hours.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling awkward.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he says. “So do you want to get an ice cream?”

  “I’d love an ice cream,” I say.

  But the light mood of the afternoon is gone, and by the time we’re done with our cones, we’re both ready to go home. Brody’s quiet on the ride, and I follow his lead, looking out the window, wondering what he was arguing with his sister about. It’s only when I’m getting out of his truck that I realize the whole time I was with Brody, I didn’t think about Cam once.

  Chapter Four

  Campbell

  I’m exhausted. As if I’ve been up for a hundred straight hours and then downed a couple of sleeping pills on top of it. That’s how I feel at the end of the school day.

  A few times I had to go to the bathroom during class and actually splash cold water on my face to try and revive myself. It helped for all of about three seconds.

  Which is why I’m back in the bathroom now, splashing even more cold water on my face. I’ve got practice in a little less than twenty minutes and I’d rather not be a zombie on the field.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”

  The voice comes from behind me as I’m pressing the hard, scratchy paper towel against my wet face. I open my eyes and see Aiden standing at the entrance to the bathroom. He looks nervous.

  “What’s up?” I say, trying to find some energy, but my voice sounds croaky.

  I ball up the paper towel and toss it at the waste basket. It doesn’t even come close.

  “You sound like you’re coming down with a cold,” he says.

  “I feel like someone drugged me.”

  “Maybe they did.” He smiles humorlessly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. So why were you looking for me?”

  He looks around as if someone might be listening.

  I snort. “Dude, we’re standing in the boys’ bathroom and nobody’s around.

  What do you think, the FBI is listening in on us or something? Homeland security?”

  “It’s not funny. I’m kind of creeped out right now.”

  “Just spill it. I’m tired, and I need to get to practice.” My phone starts buzzing as I say this and I pull it out.

  Aiden gives me a funny look. “Let me guess. Raine?”

  “So what if it is? First you didn’t like Natalia. Now you have a problem with Raine? Maybe you just want me all to yourself.”

  “Fuck you, dude.” Aiden turns and starts to leave. I grab his shoulder.

  “Hey, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not myself right now.”

  Aiden turns around and folds his arms. “You’re lucky I’m such a good guy.”

  “I am. You’re a great friend. Now tell me what you’ve been wanting to tell me already.”

  “Okay. But believe me, I know it sounds crazy.”

  “I’m sure. Go.”

  “You know I have cooking class with the Triad, right?” he says.

  “Now that you reminded me…yeah.”

  “Well, I do. And like you, they pretty much don’t know I even exist. I’m usually at the station right behind them—“

  “For obvious reasons,” I laugh.

  “Whatever. I’m always behind them, and mostly they don’t say anything interesting. Just the usual crap about hot boys, girls they hate, whatever.” He waves his hand. “But today, we were cooking with red wine vinegar and they started making these little jokes. At first I couldn’t tell who they were talking about, but I’m pretty sure it was you.”

  “What kind of jokes?”

  He sighs. “I don’t know. Like, Raine poured some of it into a glass and Becca said ‘It looks like blood.’ And then Teri said, ‘What’s that Raine, your personal stash of Camerade?’ And then they all giggled and Raine told them to shut up.”

  I get a chill. “Whatever. They’re just stupid girls.”

  “It wasn’t just that, dude. It was the way they were acting. The way Raine looks today. Did you see her last night?”

  I nod. “Yeah, she came over. So?”

  “She came over and now look at you.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Whatever they were saying, it’s just bullshit. Nobody did anything to me. I just have low blood sugar or something. Need a candy bar.”

  “You need to be careful.” He holds out his arms and starts to walk backwards.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And then he opens the door and leaves.

  After that weird conversation, I’m still tired and I’m also distracted. Not a good recipe for being an example for my team at football practice.

  When I miss my third tackle of the day, Coach Brown runs onto the field, screaming.

  “What on God’s green earth is wrong with you?” he shouts. Spit—and maybe a piece of gum?—flies out of his mouth.

  “I don’t know. Feeling…a little off,” I say, shrugging.

  “Feeling a little off? Are you on drugs? Is your brain turning to oatmeal?” His face is bright red. The other players and the assistant coaches are just standing there in awe, not daring to say a word or move a muscle.

  I’ve never seen him get this pissed off before. I mean, he has a little temper, but this is just off the charts.

  “Having a bad day I guess.”

  He grabs my facemask and pulls me towards him. “Didn’t I tell you—didn’t I JUST FUCKING TELL YOU to watch for the screen pass?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what did they run?”

  “A screen pass.”

  “That’s right. A goddamn screen pass. And where were you?”

  “I wasn’t reading the play correctly, sir.”

  “I told you the play. I told you and you still blew it and then you missed the tackle. Another missed tackle. You’re our team captain, our defensive leader, and you’re blowing tackles like a third string rookie.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t give a shit about your apologies, Elliot. This Friday we’ve got a game agai
nst the toughest team in the division and you’re stinking the joint up. Unacceptable.

  Totally unacceptable. I’ll bench your ass if this keeps up. I mean it.”

  He lets go of my facemask and stalks back to the sideline where he and the assistant coaches start conferring, probably about what a fuckup I am.

  I walk back to the huddle and see everyone looking at me like Coach just told them I have some fatal, catching disease.

  Maybe I do, the way I feel right now.

  Weak.

  Too weak to even be angry about coach reaming me out like that in front of the entire team. About taking shit for my work ethic when the co-captain of the team, Brody, cuts out on practice entirely. Meanwhile I feel like death warmed over and I’m still here taking an ass kicking.

  Luckily practice ends soon after. I change and make my way to my car.

  So tired.

  It’s only a ten minute drive back to my house and I’m literally falling asleep at the wheel. At one point I’m startled awake at a red light by someone frantically beeping their horn behind me.

  It’s strange. Last night is so vague in my memory. Was it because Raine woke me up out of a dead sleep that I can barely recall what happened? It kind of freaks me out. I mean, even when I was hammered on a twelve pack of beer I never got blackout drunk.

  Besides, I wasn’t drinking last night. But I remember stumbling around the house, dizzy, talking nonsense. I remember Raine laughing at me, kissing me, the way it felt as though I couldn’t breathe.

  But all of it feels like it happened years ago. Snatches of conversation, a strobe-like, blinking recollection of moments that seem disconnected and fuzzy as I think back on it now.

  Remembering the little bit that I do, however, is still enough to make me excited and warm all over. The way Raine smelled, her perfume, the way she looked with that sheer top that let me see…well…everything. The way her body felt pressed against mine…

  I snap out of my daydream and realize I haven’t even been paying attention to the road. A kid on a bike is suddenly right in front of me and I swerve to avoid him, just missing and instead running my car up the curb and into a big manicured wall of bushes in my next-door neighbors’ yard.