Aries Rising

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  Some guy at the Beat Museum started checking Chili out, and Stella mother-henned us to the safety of Nordstrom. As usual, she wanted to buy everything in the city for us, but we weren’t that into it, not even Chili. I think we all sensed how important it was to get back home.

  Finally, we were, and finally, it was Monday. Good-bye, Logan. Hello, Star Crossed.

  “Why so quiet?” Chili asked on our way to school that morning.

  “Just thinking about the column.”

  “It will be fabulous,” Paige said.

  “I hope I’m there when he sees it for the first time. He is so going to love it.”

  “Are you starting to like Frankenstein?” Chili asked as we pulled into the school parking lot.

  It was a simple question, but I couldn’t answer it. I was still kind of afraid of him, but he’d been nice to me. Knowing that he was hot for Snider—something I hadn’t told anyone—somehow made him more human. Maybe the article would show Snider his sensitive side. Maybe they’d get together, and he’d be so grateful that he’d personally call the college in Monterey, and . . .

  “Logan?” Chili shook my arm.

  I realized that she and Paige had been staring at me while I was picturing his undying gratitude. Daydreaming. Must be my Pisces Moon.

  “Sorry,” I said. “My mind was drifting.”

  “I asked you if you’re starting to like Frankenstein.” She said it the way she might ask if I was starting to like canned peas.

  “Chili, please.”

  “It’s all right if you are. Paige and I just need to know, is all, so that we can like him too.” She made a face. “Or at least not trash him anymore.”

  “Well, he’s a Taurus,” I said.

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  I nodded. “Can be. Often is.”

  “Then why’s he so, you know? And do we like him, or don’t we?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think we do.”

  I went directly to Frankenstein’s room. Just as I imagined, he sat at his desk the newspaper in his hands.

  I stepped into the room in the khaki sweater Chili and Paige said matched my eyes.

  “Hi,” I said, and waited for the kudos I knew would follow.

  Honestly, it wasn’t even about the praise anymore. Sure, I wanted the fellowship as much as ever, but I also just wanted to see that usually surly Frankenstein face happy for a change.

  He looked up slowly, and I could tell that I was the last person on earth he wanted to see just then.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What have you done?” I rushed to the front of the room and took the newspaper he handed me. There it was, just as we’d laid it out. Everything looked fine—except my column.

  My mouth went dry, and my whole body went numb. My mind tried to unscramble the cruel joke I was holding in my hand. Someone had photoshopped devil horns on Frankenstein’s photo. And the article I’d worked on almost as many hours as I’d spent going over Fearless Astrology was no longer an article, only a series of words. Make that one word.

  devildevildevildevil

  devildevil

  devildevildevildevil

  devildevildevil

  devildevildevildevildevildevil

  devildevil devildevil

  devildevil

  And so on. That’s right. Someone had completely destroyed my column. Trashed it. All that remained of the original piece was my byline. Frankenstein had a right to be furious. But so did I.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” I said.

  “Then who did?”

  I couldn’t stay and argue with him.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and started for the door. “But I’m going to find out.”

  “ Wait.”

  “Sorry. I can’t. I’ve got to talk to Snider.”

  With that, I left him and ran down the hall to the journalism classroom, remembering that I’d forgotten the Ms. in Ms. Snider. Oh, well.

  When I burst into the room, I heard a gasp and realized it came from Snider herself. Clearly she’d just seen the paper. Sol from Texas sat with a stunned, frozen expression. Geneva and Charles sat side by side, Geneva’s face in her hands, Charles shocked and wide-eyed.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Snider demanded. “Logan, what happened? Why?”

  “She didn’t do it.” Geneva lifted her head. Her expression was pained. “I know she didn’t, Ms. Snider. Logan and I left together Friday night.”

  “That’s the truth,” I said. “I was in San Francisco all weekend, and I can prove it.”

  “You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Geneva said. “I watched you get into your, um, vehicle that night.”

  Rub it in, Libra, even during a crisis.

  “You saw the layout,” I told her. “Who touched it after we did?”

  “Only the print shop.”

  “And after that?” I looked toward the sound of the voice and realized that Frankenstein had followed me into the room. “I want to know who touched this newspaper after Logan and Geneva left on Friday.”

  “Only the print shop,” Geneva repeated. “They process on Friday and deliver on Monday.”

  “Who delivered?” Frankenstein demanded.

  Geneva turned slowly to Charles. His voice was barely audible.

  “Please,” he moaned.

  “I’m sure he’s innocent,” Geneva said. “Just because he was the last person to see the newspaper doesn’t mean that he’d . . .”

  For a moment I thought Frankenstein was going to grab Charles.

  “Wait.” I stepped between them. “He wouldn’t.”

  “Well, who would?” His eyes were wild, like the Bull he was.

  “Who do you think?” I looked around the room at all of them, saw the anger in Frankenstein’s face, the fear in Charles’s expression.

  “The Gears?” Charles whispered the question.

  “Exactly,” I said. “I know Charles didn’t have anything to do with this, Mr. Franklin.”

  “The Gears,” Charles repeated, his voice stronger now.

  “They did it,” I told him, “and they set you up to take the blame.”

  “I realize that now,” he said. “But who’s going to believe me?”

  “I’m not,” Frankenstein bellowed. “Not until you answer a few questions.”

  NOTES TO SELF

  I’m writing this down fast in the restroom because I promised to meet Charles in the hall. He didn’t mess up my column, I know that. The Gears did. And they did it to hurt me. Why, though? They must think I’m getting too close to figuring out who they are! I need to clear my head and do a quick search for troublemakers. Here I spent all weekend trying to forecast danger days, and I didn’t even realize there was one waiting for me as soon as I got home.

  16

  FIRE SIGNS ARE NOT THE ONLY DISRUPTIVE ONES; THEY ARE ONLY THE MOST OBVIOUS. ARIES, LEO, AND SAGITTARIUS EACH HAVE DIFFERENT REASONS FOR BEING BAD. ARIES IS RULED BY MARS, THE GOD OF WAR. SOME RAMS WOULD RUN DOWN THE STREET NAKED IF THEY COULD. LEO, RULED BY THE SUN, WAS BORN IN THE LIMELIGHT, AND THE LION INTENDS TO STAY THERE, NO MATTER WHAT. LEO WANTS ATTENTION BECAUSE HE THINKS HE DESERVES IT. SAGITTARIUS IS RULED BY JUPITER AND FEARS COMMITMENT ALMOST AS MUCH AS HE CRAVES ADVENTURE. THE ARCHER RUNS IN ORDER TO STAY FREE. THESE ARE THE ACTION SIGNS, AND, YES, THEY CAN BE DANGEROUS. BEFORE YOU JUDGE, HOWEVER, LOOK AT THE WHOLE CHART. DON’T JUDGE A SIGN BY ITS SUN.

  —Fearless Astrology

  I was hoping the book would give me a clue, but from what I could tell, any sign could be disruptive. Standing at the basin in the girls’ restroom, I ran my fingers over those tarnished stars. The answers were beneath the cover of this book. I needed to get better at finding them.

  Just as he’d promised, Charles met me in the hall.

  “Sorry to be late,” he said. “Thanks for what you did in there.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You told the truth. If you hadn’t, I would
have gotten blamed for what happened.”

  He was right. “I know. You were totally set up.”

  “Something was different that night.” His voice was so soft that I could barely hear it.

  “What do you mean, Charles?”

  “After you and Geneva left, someone else came back,” he said. “Said we needed to proof the pages again. I was all right with that. I should have been more careful.”

  “Who came back?” I asked.

  He gave me a helpless look. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Color spread across his face.

  “Well, I was kind of spending time with someone,” he said.

  What did he mean, spending time with someone? Was he trying to say he was with a girl? That was insane.

  “I’m your friend,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

  He nodded and said, “Yes.”

  I was his friend, wasn’t I? When had that happened? Maybe the first day Frankenstein gave him a hard time in class. The way he used to give me a hard time.

  “You need to tell me who you were with Friday night,” I said, “when you were supposed to be overseeing the printing of the newspaper.”

  “I can’t.” He looked down. “It’s my fault this happened.”

  “It’s not your fault, Charles. This is a Gears’ job. You must know that.”

  “I just feel so stupid.” His voice was miserable, and he looked so lost that I almost wanted to hug him.

  “Come on,” I said, and stepped into the library.

  He followed reluctantly and continued to look at the floor.

  “Mr. Franklin’s going to get me kicked out of school,” he said. “He’s always hated me.”

  “I don’t think that’s the right word. I mean, I think it’s been a difficult year for Mr. Franklin, with the divorce and all.”

  “He’s divorced?” He glanced up at me, then quickly returned to his examination of the carpet on the floor.

  “Since the end of last year,” I said. “The only reason he’s so angry with you at the moment is because he thinks you had something to do with what happened to my column. Tell me who you were with, and we can clear it all up right now.”

  Finally, he met my eyes. “I can’t,” he said.

  “All right, then. I respect that you want to protect the person you were with. Could you tell me where you were when someone came back to proof the pages?”

  He turned an even brighter shade. “In the copy room.”

  That little four-by-four closet with a copy machine and a bunch of foul-smelling chemicals the photo department stored in there? Yuck. What could he have been doing? No, I didn’t even want to explore that one.

  “You do realize that by protecting whomever you were with, you’re protecting the Gears, don’t you?”

  “I’ll take the blame if I have to.” His attitude had changed from wimpy to almost defiant.

  “Fine, if that’s the way you feel. If you change your mind, let me know,” I said. “I need to get to class.”

  “Wait.” He reached out for my arm, got my sweater instead. “You’ve been really nice to me, Logan. Nicer than anybody, except Ms. Snider. If I told anyone, you’d be the one.”

  “Then think about it,” I said. “Please think about it, for your sake as well as mine.”

  “I feel rotten that it was your column it happened to. You’re the one person I think kind of understands me. You know what it’s like to have a famous parent.”

  I could see through the window that it was starting to rain outside again, but I could tell that he hadn’t noticed. And what was he trying to say about famous parents?

  “Meaning ?”

  “Meaning I know it’s not easy,” he said, and I knew he was studying my face to gauge my reaction. “My dad was Charlie Bell.”

  “Charlie Bell, the race car driver?”

  Make that crashed and dead race car driver, one of our small town’s heroes. How could quiet, nerdy Charles Bellamy be the son of Indy great Charlie Bell?

  “Right,” he said.

  “Oh, Charles, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “He died doing what he loved.” I could tell that he’d said this before any number of times. “My guardian is my mom’s brother. Very few people know who my dad was.”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  He paused, then said as if reciting from a memorized script, “She has a hair salon in Beverly Hills. It’s not the proper environment to raise a young man.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.

  Those pale eyes didn’t blink, but I sensed the unshed tears there.

  “Because it’s not that different with you and me.”

  “But my mom’s a golfer.”

  Not a suicidal, crazed race car driver, I thought.

  “It’s not that different,” he repeated. “I need to go to class too. Thanks again.”

  I watched him walk out of the room but I couldn’t let him go. There was something I needed from him first.

  “Charles, wait.” I ran after him and managed to catch him before he moved, without protection, into the sudden storm.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Your birth date,” I said. “Give it to me, and you can have this.”

  I handed him my big fat black umbrella.

  “You don’t need to do that.” He shoved it back in my hands. “The twenty-fourth of June, 5:25 P.M. Thanks again for trying to help.”

  I watched him walk out into the rain, bareheaded, and wondered what to do next. Why did Charles make me feel so sad?

  NOTES TO SELF

  Just figured it out. Charles is a Cancer—translation: emotional, mom-driven homebody—with a Scorpio/secret Moon. I never would have guessed he shares a Sun with Michael Phelps, Lindsay Lohan, Derek Jeter, and Prince William.

  His focus is all about family, but from what I can tell, he doesn’t have one, other than his uncle/guardian. He thinks we’re alike, but I’ve got news for him: I have a family. Charlie Bell died in one of the most dramatic crashes in the history of the Indy 500. Maybe I’m making it up, but I can almost remember it. Can almost remember my mom saying, “Such a tragedy, such a good man.” I can ask once she’s home again. Once I have my mom back.

  17

  THERE’S MUCH POWER IN ARIES, AND THE RAM OFTEN EASILY OBTAINS THE DESIRED OBJECT OR PERSON, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT IT’S THE BEST CHOICE. AN ARIES MOON CAN LEAD TO A READY TEMPER, EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS, AND DOWNRIGHT CRUELTY. IT CAN ALSO LEAD TO HASTY DECISIONS, POOR CHOICES, AND SELF-SABOTAGING BEHAVIOR. IF YOU’RE DEALING WITH AN ARIES, JUST REMEMBER WHATEVER CRISIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW WILL BE FORGOTTEN TOMORROW WHEN THE BABY OF THE ZODIAC IS ABSORBED ONCE MORE IN THAT WONDERFUL FASCINATION WITH SELF. WITH ARIES AS THE ASCENDANT (RISING SIGN), EVEN THE MEEKEST SUN SIGNS ARE EMBOLDENED. ARIES ASCENDANT TYPES ARE OFTEN CONSIDERED INDEPENDENT BY THOSE WHO TRY TO CONTROL THEM. MORE ACCURATELY, THEY TEND TOWARD BEING SELF-RELIANT AND ENTERPRISING. IF YOU HAVE AN ARIES RISING, UNDERSTAND THAT ALTHOUGH YOU WANT TO FINISH FIRST IN EVERY ENDEAVOR, YOU’LL BE HAPPIER IN THE LONG RUN IF YOU CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES.

  —Fearless Astrology

  Aries Rising.

  That was me all right. But how was I going to c hoose my battles when the battles kept choosing me? My Rising or Ascendant was supposed to be the way I reacted to new people or situations, and right now, it was to find out who had destroyed my article.

  It wasn’t Charles. That Cancer was clearly protecting someone, and it had to be someone he really cared about. From what I’d been able to tell, he didn’t care about anyone but Ms. Snider. I had to find out. Once I did, I could go to Frankenstein and reveal the truth. And he’d be so grateful that he’d drive to Monterey, meet with his old friends, and tell them . . .

  I didn’t have time to daydream. I needed to figure out the Gears. Fire signs seemed the best place to start, especially since I’d narrowed down the danger days to May fifteenth and twenty-fifth. />
  Having gotten drenched in the rain, I dashed into the restroom to see if I could rescue my frizzy hair. The bangs really were an improvement. I pulled them down over my eyebrows. The rest of my hair was pretty hopeless.

  A girl swooshed through the bathroom door. I barely looked up from the counter that ran along both sides of the sinks.

  “Hey, Logan.”

  It was Kat in full cheerleader attire, which was what Snider would call, well, sparse. I remembered what I’d just read about Aries: The Ram often easily obtains the desired object or person, regardless of whether or not it’s the best choice.

  “Hi, Kat.”

  She was way too energetic and in no hurry to enter a stall. At first I thought she might have come in because it was warmer here than out wherever she was supposed to be jumping around. Then, with a chill, I realized she must have followed me inside.

  “How are you doing?” she said in a perky voice.

  “All right.” I put my notebook into my book bag.

  “It was fun painting sets with you and Nathan. You’re really cute together.”

  Enough chitchat.

  “What’s up, Kat?” I asked.

  She took a step back, and the fake smile disappeared from her face. “Well, I hear you’re an expert on astrology.”

  Guess she hadn’t seen the botched newspaper yet.

  “I know a little bit about it.”

  “I understand you’re really good.” Her blue eyes, shiny from tinted contacts, widened even more. “Could you figure out something for me? It’s about a guy, of course.”

  “Not right now,” I said. “I’m in a hurry.”

  Not to mention, there was no way I would share any information with Chili’s main competition for Trevor.

  “How much?” Kat asked as if talking to a clerk in a shop.

  “What do you mean?”

  She was really irritating me now.

  “What do you charge?” She put her hands on the hips of her crotch-length skirt. “I’ll pay you whatever.”