Uncle Mark nodded as he pulled me into a hug.
“I’m proud of you. Both of you.” He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “I want you to know how much I love you. I need you to understand that.”
I blushed, feeling embarrassed. I’d learned how to deal with a few people knowing I spoke to the dead. It almost felt natural to talk about that now. But hearing my uncle tell me he loved me and was proud of me still made me feel queasy inside. I was never that close to my own parents.
Uncle Mark was so amazing, and he even chuckled because he knew how squeamish hearing those three words made me. He gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head, and freed me, glancing down at his watch.
“I guess at this point you may as well skip school. Just try and stay out of trouble.”
“Uncle Mark,” I said, feigning offense, “what kind of trouble would you think I could get in?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sure you could think of something.”
We shared a smile before he excused himself, climbed into his patrol car and drove away.
“So,” Payne said, “what do you feel like doing now? We could talk to your grandfather.”
“He’s off at the lodge this morning with all the other old men.”
“Okay,” Payne said. “You hungry?”
I rolled my eyes. Was he serious? Our friend was dead and he was thinking about food. What is it about men?
“No,” I answered. “Can we just, y’know, drive for a bit?”
Payne nodded as he went and opened the passenger side door for me. I slid in, and watched Payne make his way around the car to the driver’s side. I glanced up at the rearview mirror, and saw we weren’t alone.
“I couldn’t stay there anymore,” Eric said. “I can’t believe how badly I screwed up. How do I make this all right? I just want to make it better.”
“You can’t,” I answered, just as Payne got into the car. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Confusion played across Payne’s face for a moment. Then he looked at me, and he understood.
“I take it we’re not alone?”
“No,” I answered.
“Payne knows?” Eric asked. I nodded.
“I never knew,” he said in a small voice.
“Not many people do,” I explained. “Maggie doesn’t. I don’t share this. It’s private.”
“What happens now?”
“For your family? They mourn. They bury you. They’ll grieve for you, and they won’t ever get over you. They’ll never understand. Hopefully, in time, they’ll forgive you, for their own sake.”
“You don’t hate me now, do you?”
“No,” I answered. “But I am mad at you.”
“Damn right,” Payne mumbled.
“Payne,” Eric said, “please don’t be angry. Look, you don’t have to babysit me at school now.”
“Eric,” I said. “He can’t hear you, and I told you, Payne and I weren’t babysitting you. We were your friends.”
“Babysitting? Is that what he’s saying? Is that what he thinks?”
I watched as Payne gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Without warning, he pulled off the main road and into a secluded area. I felt the car come to a sudden stop on the gravel that crunched under the tires.
“Eric,” Payne barked, not bothering to look back since he couldn’t see the person he was talking to. “Don’t you get it? Why the hell would you think I was babysitting you? I thought we were friends!”
“We are!” Eric yelled back, even though Payne couldn’t hear him. “You and Bristol are closer to me than anyone. Bristol, tell him. Please.”
“Payne,” I said. “Eric wants you to know he was your friend.”
“Was he?” Payne snapped. “Then ask him why he didn’t talk to me before he did something like this? How could he do this to all of us?”
Shocked at Payne’s reaction, Eric seemed so broken inside.
“Eric,” I said turning to look at him, “we’re all upset. We loved you, but we will forgive you. Now you need to forgive yourself. You can’t take this back. There’s nothing left for you to do except move on.”
One minute, Eric was in the backseat shaking in grief and despair. The next, he faded away.
I sat back in my seat and sighed.
“He’s gone?” Payne asked.
I nodded.
Payne took my hand.
“You okay?” I asked him.
He shrugged, refusing to look at me. “Are you?”
I returned the shrug.
Finally, Payne glanced over at me. I could see the grief in his face.
That was when I started to cry.
- two -
Bristol “Bam Bam” Blackburn
“There’s something wrong with this picture,” Payne said, as we slowly got out of the car in the Spirit High School parking lot. “We could be anywhere today.”
“We’re not cutting,” I said. “It’s wrong for us to use this day like that. Besides, I need to tell Maggie and the others about poor Eric.”
Payne nodded and looked at his watch. “There’s only what? Two periods left?”
“I’m not going to class,” I answered. “I just think we should be here.”
Payne didn’t ask why. He just took my hand, and together we walked inside. Inside, the hallway walls were covered with posters for different clubs and an upcoming student election. Behind them, the paint was a dull green and badly chipped. As we walked, we could hear chatter from the classrooms. Every once in a while, someone passed us, but we didn’t stop to talk to anyone until we ran into Mrs. Fairbanks, who looked startled to see us.
“Payne. Bristol. What are you two doing out in the hallway?”
“Sorry,” I said automatically. “Something happened this morning. You know our friend, Eric Wilson?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Fairbanks said, examining our tense faces. “What happened? Are you all right?”
I didn’t want to deal with this. I couldn’t right now.
“Payne,” I said. “I’m going to go wait for Maggie. Can you explain? Please?”
Payne nodded and a moment later, he and Mrs. Fairbanks disappeared into her office. I kept walking down the hall, waiting for Maggie to come around the corner as the bell rang. Kids of different ages flooded the halls, most with their cell phones in their hands and ear buds in, playing their favorite tunes. Most of them passed me without looking up, too busy catching up on social media to notice me. Finally, my best friend appeared.
Maggie Sheppard was a dark-skinned girl whose colorful outfits expressed her zany personality. Today, she was dressed in mint-green stretchy pants with a bright purple striped top, paired with matching shoes and her usual thick-rimmed green glasses. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed she had killed Barney the dinosaur for that getup.
She wasn’t alone. Hunter McKnight, Payne’s cousin, was walking beside her, followed by Ian Lewis, a tall, geeky kid who had lately developed a very acute interest in the history of the feud between the Blackburns and the McKnights.
Of course, he’d developed a very acute interest in Hunter, too. Who could blame him? With her bright red hair and gorgeous body, she looked like a supermodel without the anorexia or stuck-up attitude. She was wearing a short, black skirt and a green silk shirt that brought out her green eyes. Her makeup was subtle, but striking. Trailing behind her, Ian looked so clumsy he was almost tripping over his own feet. He was dressed in his usual khakis and a blue polo shirt. His dark hair was curly and just a little on the long side.
They were all friends with Eric. I wasn’t looking forward to telling them what had happened.
“Hey, guys,” I called. “Over here.”
I got them to the side and told them what had happened. Both Hunter and Maggie started to cry. Ian looked like he wanted to hold Hunter, but was afraid to touch her. So he shoved his hands
into his pockets, looking nervous.
As I was in the middle of explaining, a few more faces showed up.
For most teenage girls who didn’t know anything about them, the image of Archer, Chase, and Blasé McKnight walking down the hallway would be a beautiful sight. Each was a fine specimen of a male teenager.
Archer was walking on the far left. He wore a gray t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. With his close-cropped brown hair, square jaw, and a backpack slung over one shoulder, he looked like an all-American.
Chase was on the opposite side. His thin build and long brown hair made him look like a musician. He was no less extraordinary to look at.
Behind them was Blasé, whose smug attitude was written all over his perfect face. He was blond, blue-eyed, and in my opinion, a class-A jerk.
The first time I’d seen him, he and his cousin Archer had been having fun tripping Ian in the lunch room. Ian had been mortified. They had both acted like immature brats.
When they reached us, Archer and Chase saw Hunter and Maggie crying, and knew something was wrong. Blasé either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He used his shoulder to bump Ian out of his way.
“Watch where you’re going, Ian. You don’t want to end up falling on your ass again.”
“You son of a bitch,” I said, putting myself right in Blasé’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Everyone looked taken aback. Blasé and I had never gotten along, but since I was with Payne, he left me alone most of the time. Part of me thought he felt guilty for nearly killing us with his ability to create and control fire, when Jay possessed him. That didn’t upset me. It just ticked me off that Blasé was such a jerk.
Of course, part of the reason he left me alone was that he was scared of Payne, and with good reason. But right now, Blasé needed to worry about me.
“I think,” Blasé answered, “I’m the hottest guy in this school. Probably the whole town. You may not want to stand so close, Bristol. Not unless you want to get burned.”
I understood the veiled threat. I just didn’t care.
“You egotistical, ignorant, conceited, and incredibly stupid little boy!” I said, poking my finger in his face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Blasé took a step back, but the look in his eyes suggested he was struggling for control. “Nobody talks to me that way, especially not some orphaned Blackburn. You may have my cousin fooled for now, but I see right through you. Right now, Payne’s not around to protect you.”
Hunter, Archer and Chase were trying to get us to back off.
I wasn’t interested.
“Do I look like I’m waiting for Payne to come to my rescue?”
Blasé pulled his hand back like he was ready to hit me. Or maybe he was trying to ignite a fireball to jam down my throat. I still didn’t care.
“Knock it off,” Ian demanded, as he grabbed Blasé’s arm and gave him a shove. “You’re not touching her.”
Blasé looked like he wanted to belt Ian, but didn’t. Ian just pulled his hand away from the McKnight’s arm, as if he’d been burnt.
“Blasé,” Hunter said, “Eric killed himself.”
Blasé thought for a moment. “Who?”
“His mother found him dead this morning,” I told him. “He swallowed a bunch of pills because he hated coming to school and dealing with bullies like you.”
A deadly silence echoed through the hallway. Normally the halls would be empty by now, but there were still groups of students waiting and watching the show.
Archer was staring at me. “He can’t be dead. That’s got to be wrong.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not. I was there when they took his body away. I held his mother. He’s dead.”
I turned back to Blasé. “So I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Blasé just shrugged. “Hey, some stupid kid decides he’s too much of a wuss to deal with life and it’s my fault? I didn’t kill him.”
I was shocked. He didn’t get it. He just didn’t care.
Next to him, I could see Chase was stunned. He hadn’t been as much of a bully as his two cousins, but he’d often watched and laughed when they went on their rampages through the school.
Archer looked shaken and was trembling in shock. From what Eric told me, one McKnight was finally growing up. That meant something to me. I should have probably said that. I could feel the guilt and remorse rolling off of him in waves. I just wasn’t in the mood to be nice.
But from Blasé, I felt nothing except anger at my having spoken to him like that.
“You didn’t kill Eric, but you pushed him. You dished out fear and humiliation just to amuse yourself. I don’t know if that even registers with you. But I think the fact that you can’t even admit what you did makes you the biggest coward I’ve ever met.”
I turned on my heel and started to walk away when I felt a very hot hand grab my left arm and swing me back around. Blasé wasn’t about to let me get the last word. He squeezed my arm and pulled me close. His palm on my arm burned, like I had gotten too close to an oven.
Behind us, I could hear his cousins shouting at him to let go of me.
When he opened his mouth, I knew every word that he was about to say. I could see it, clear as day.
So I punched him right in the middle of his pretty, perfect face.
Blood spurted from his nose, and he yanked back his hand to clutch at his face.
“Now,” I said, “who’s the wuss that needs Payne to defend them?”
“What the hell is going on here?”
I turned around and saw our new principal, Mrs. Bennett. She was tall, lean, and carried herself in a no-nonsense way.
“We don’t tolerate violence in this school from anyone.”
“Too bad that didn’t help Eric Wilson,” I snapped.
Mrs. Bennett looked me up and down. She’d just started as our principal last week. It wasn’t fair of me to blame her, but I wasn’t in a mood to feel fair right now.
“My office,” Mrs. Bennett snapped back. “Now.”
Outside the principal’s office as we waited for our families to arrive, Blasé was slouched into a seat across from me. He couldn’t stop smirking, but it looked hard to maintain that expression with giant cotton balls shoved up his bruised and swollen nose.
“You’re in for it now. Grandpa is going to be pissed that you went and put your hands on me.”
“You put your hands on me first.” I said. “I was walking away. I was done with you.”
“I didn’t wimp out because some guys at school were mean to me. You want to blame me because you and my lovesick cousin didn’t do a good enough job babysitting that kid?”
Oh, how I wanted to pop him another one.
“He was only seventeen years old. He had so much to look forward to. His mother and sister are devastated. And you took joy in his suffering. Doesn’t that bother you?
I watched Blasé, and for a brief moment, I thought I felt something, like a glimmer of guilt or remorse from deep inside. Maybe he was sorry. Either way, it didn’t matter. Eric was still gone.
The murmurs by the secretary’s desk increased, and I knew without looking that Varick McKnight had arrived. Varick was an intimidating man: over six feet tall, muscular, and with a moustache that probably had its own personal assistant. School officials practically curtseyed in their rush to direct him to the principal.
After a few minutes, Blasé and I were finally escorted inside the principal’s office. We were each directed to a chair in front of Mrs. Bennett’s desk. She was seated behind it, looking stern. Uncle Mark was standing to her right. I could see the amusement in his eyes as he saw Blasé’s face.
Varick’s jaw was set in disgust as he loomed on Mrs. Bennett’s left. He hadn’t said a word to anyone since coming in, but his scowl spoke for him, letting everyone know he was very displeased.
“I know today has been a rough day,” Mrs
. Bennett said. “I’ve been brought up to speed on what happened with Mr. Wilson, and I’m very sorry. But we can’t allow violence in our school. Bristol, why did you strike Blasé?”
I sat up straight and looked Mrs. Bennett in the eye.
“He grabbed my arm,” I explained. “I was walking away from him. He grabbed me and spun me around. I defended myself.”
“Is this true, Blasé?” Mrs. Bennett asked.
“She’s the one who came at me,” Blasé answered. “Making these crazy claims that I drove that idiot kid to off himself, when everyone knows he’s just a—”
“That’s enough,” Varick snapped.
“But Grandpa,” Blasé began, looking shocked.
“I said, enough.” Varick wasn’t used to repeating himself. “Did you put your hands on Bristol when she was walking away?”
Blasé slumped in his seat. Clearly, this wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would. “Blackburns don’t get to speak to McKnights like that and walk away. She wants to blame me for what this stupid kid did.”
“Well?” Varick asked. “Does she have a point?”
“No!” Blasé insisted. “I mean, we teased him. But it didn’t mean anything. I’m not responsible.”
“Oh, really?” Uncle Mark said. “As I understand it, you were one of the kids who routinely made Eric Wilson’s life a living hell. Tripping him. Pushing him in the hallway. Calling him all sorts of names. You don’t think that behavior had anything to do with Eric ending his life?”
Blasé just shrugged. “Not my fault he couldn’t man up.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” Varick asked. “Let me tell you something. You didn’t act like a man when you tormented that young boy. You didn’t act like a man when Bristol told you that a mother will now have to bury her child. You certainly didn’t act like a man when you grabbed her.”
“But—” Blasé protested.
“No,” Varick shut him down quickly. “Since your father died, you’ve been let off too easy. This is going to end. You understand me?”
Blasé looked stunned. He squirmed in his seat, unsure of where to look or what to say. Finally, his eyes settled on me.
Vision of Serpents Page 2
