Of the Trees

by E. M. Fitch

  “There you are!” Laney shouted. “Finally! I want you to meet Corey.” Laney pushed the stranger forward. His face was young and eager, his skin clear and glowing, even in the throbbing, pulsing light from the DJ booth. His hair was a mess, but artfully so, and he smelled fresh though not with cologne—more natural, like pine trees and sawdust.

  “Nice to meet you, Corey,” Cassie said, extending a hand. He grinned and squeezed her fingers.

  “Corey’s from Saint Paul’s,” Laney went on to explain, introducing Ryan next. “We met last week, remember I mentioned?”

  Cassie nodded, smiling ruefully. Ryan shook hands, and they stood awkwardly, swaying with the pounding music and not meeting each other’s eyes.

  “Listen,” Laney started, looking from Corey’s face to Cassie. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “You mean?”

  “Yeah, not in here,” Laney said, grabbing at Cassie’s hand and tugging her toward the open door. Cassie glanced back at Ryan who smiled, looking uncertainly at Corey.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” Cassie called, letting Laney pull her through the door. Ryan nodded.

  The wind kicked up as Cassie passed into the open courtyard. She could hear the hiss of the air passing over the rough brick walls, even over the thump of the bass behind them. Laney turned and pushed the door shut, ignoring the cries of protest from the sweating students inside. The music dulled behind the metal door, a pulse of rhythm that vibrated the ground, but didn’t mask the shift of the leaves in the wind, nor the soft sigh that escaped Laney.

  “I’m sorry,” Laney said. Cassie’s eyebrows rose. Laney noticed. Her shoulders lifted, and she let them fall in a shrug. “Really. I’ve been a bitch the past couple of weeks, and I’m sorry.”

  Cassie shrugged, waving her hand in dismissal. “So that’s him, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Laney said softly, a smile taking over her face. “Are you and Ryan … ”

  The implication was obvious. Cassie shook her head, shrugging. “We drove together, with Jon.”

  “Ah, okay.” There was a pause, and Laney smirked. “You know you match, don’t you?”

  Cassie barked out a laugh and then shoved her. Laney took it grinning. “Look, if you’re not here with him, Corey brought some friends along.”

  “Friends? No, I don’t think—”

  “Oh, c’mon Cass! You don’t want them to think that I have no friends, do you?” Laney prodded, smiling. “You have to at least be nice to them, maybe dance with one.”

  “But I’m here with Ryan!”

  “You just said you weren’t!”

  “But—”

  Laney stopped listening. She dragged Cassie back into the dance, shoving her through the door into the muggy heat of the now-crowded gym. She left the door propped open to raucous cheers, for which she swept low in a neat bow before pushing Cassie back to where Corey and Ryan were waiting.

  Corey had brought more than a few friends, in Cassie’s opinion. She wasn’t quite sure how he and Laney had gotten so many of them past her dad. Though, after she considered it, Laney was on the homecoming committee. She did have access to the unsold tickets.

  Cassie’s brow knitted at the thought. It wasn’t like Laney to abuse her position like that. She must really have feelings for Corey if she went to those kind of lengths to make him happy at a school dance. The thought left her frowning, and she missed most of the introductions, not that the music helped. It was loud and dark, and everyone had masks. The only person she could really pick out of the crowd was Ryan, and she was starting to wish he’d just grab her up and hold her close again, keep her by his side and away from Corey and his creepy friends.

  Because they were kind of creepy. It might have been the masks. Corey’s friends, at least, seemed to understand what a masquerade party was; they were all in suits, all except Corey who was, now that Cassie really looked, matched well with Laney. The other strangers stood apart from the rest of the students by the intricacies of the masks they wore. The disguises were nothing like Cassie had ever seen before.

  The tallest boy—he must have been their age at least, since he towered over them—had the most bizarre mask. Cassie got caught up staring at it and probably came off as a bit rude. When he turned to stare her down, she felt a little jolt, stepping back and crushing Ryan’s toe. His muffled curse told her that much.

  The mask was bone white, plain, and it covered his entire face. The only openings were two perfectly circular eye holes. They were large, but darkened, and Cassie could barely make out the eyes that hid beyond. The intensity of the dark gaze was overshadowed by the long, beak-like nose that protruded slightly and then pointed straight down. It reminded her of a gas mask. The black eyes above were sharp and nearly hostile. It unnerved her.

  The others were less terrifying, though still unique. Unlike the masks she, Ryan, and Laney all wore, these were different, unlike any other she had seen in a party store or on Halloween. One boy’s mask was a flat square, looking as though it were made of metal. The eye holes were small, the nose looking like it had been carved onto the surface. There was no mouth, just a flat expanse of burnished metal. It reminded Cassie of an old Twilight Zone episode she had seen with her dad, where a young boy didn’t have a mouth, just a stretch of tight skin from nose to chin. It freaked her out then, and this mask freaked her out now. The edges were all scrolls and ridges, and it covered his entire face, showing not even a hint at his expression. Another had a long nose, not like the first, completely unnerving one, but rather like Pinocchio from the old Disney movie. A third and fourth boy sported a mask that rode over the bridge of their noses, but dipped low over their cheeks too, just leaving an opening for their mouth. There was a girl as well, though Cassie didn’t know it at first. She wore a full Jester’s mask, complete with an attached hat in a motley pattern. Cassie only realized she was a girl after watching her walk toward the refreshment table and noting the obvious sway in her hips.

  They gravitated toward the dance floor after a while and were joined by others. Jessica had wandered over at some point—a vision in a gauzy white dress, angel wings, and satin mask—sidling up to the guy in the frightening mask. That didn’t surprise Cassie. Jessica always went for the guy who most easily spelled trouble. They danced in a group, Ryan not nearly as possessive of her as he had been when they were alone. Maybe it was the proximity of Laney, or maybe it was the way one of Corey’s friends kept staring at Cassie; the one with the square mask just wouldn’t quit it. It was unsettling too, mostly, Cassie thought, because underneath that mask she really, truly couldn’t make out his expression, nothing more than the shift of his brow every once in a while.

  “Dance with him,” Laney prodded, nudging Cassie toward the boy who was staring at her. Cassie mouthed a protest but was shoved across the floor anyway, knocking into Corey’s friend. She couldn’t see Ryan, he was directly behind her, and as the music shifted and slowed, the boy reached out to her and tugged her into his arms, dancing her in sweeping circles around the perimeter of the group. Cassie thought he was trying to pull off a waltz and wished he’d stop soon; she had no idea how to keep up with that. He was a forceful leader, his grip about her waist firm and guiding, and his hand soft yet unyielding as it held her own. He pulled her closer, close enough to feel the heat emanating from him and she felt flushed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ryan watching her, but at this point she didn’t honestly know what she should do about that.

  “Are you here with him?”

  The voice, so deep and smooth, startled Cassie, and she almost tripped, but his arms were steady. He kept them moving, slowing to a simple box step as he stared down at her. His eyes were piercingly blue, sharp and unwavering from behind his mask.

  “Who?” Cassie squeaked, finding herself caught in his stare. A deep chuckle rumbled from him.

  “That boy,” he elaborated, nodding toward Ryan. Cassie prickled, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.
She found herself wanting to lie, to say yes, she was, but the reality was she wasn’t, not in the way this boy was asking. So she shook her head instead, broke eye contact and stared over his shoulder until the song ended. She stepped closer to Rebecca after the dance ended, unable to avoid the stranger in the square mask completely, not trusting Laney to not shove her at him again, and unwilling to use Ryan as a shield. Rebecca smiled at her, knocked her with her hip, and then frowned, staring off at Jessica and the boy in the creepy mask. They had moved off to the side of the gym, laughing and obviously flirting by the open door.

  “Who is he?” Rebecca leaned close to Cassie to whisper. Cassie shook her head.

  “That’s Corey,” she said, discreetly pointing across the circle of dancers to the boy with whom Laney was entangled. “He’s Laney’s new boyfriend. I think the big freak in the beak mask is one of his friends, but I didn’t catch the name.”

  Rebecca nodded, her eyes flitting over her friend and then making a quick sweep of the people they were dancing with. “Lots of people we don’t know?” she asked, scanning the crowd. Cassie nodded. Rebecca looked speculative but dropped it, which was just as well. She probably thought, as Cassie did, that Laney snuck them in. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried something like that, except usually it was because the guest that had been invited was older than allowed or had access to booze. This wasn’t that. Even if it was, Rebecca wasn’t the type to snitch on principle.

  She stayed close to Cassie, for which Cassie felt absurdly grateful. People flitted in and about their group, almost as though they were drawn in. Something about new blood, the attraction of outsiders, always did that at dances. Laney’s new friends were a buzz of constant scrutiny. The group Cassie danced with stayed in their general section of the gym, not near the front and keeping to the back by the open door, and yet the crowds of people swelling near kept increasing. The boys were asked to dance, and they were good, surprisingly good. It wasn’t just the stranger with the square mask who could manage a box step; they were light on their feet and engaging, laughing and playful with the partners they chose. Even the girl, even with the creepiness of the jester’s mask, was whirling about, completely unselfconscious as she flitted about the gym. She’d dance for a song out in the middle of the floor and then, like a homing pigeon, dart back, her hand brushing the arm of one of the boys she came with, her lips hovering close to their ear as she whispered something to them.

  The only one who didn’t dance again, other than the rhythmic swaying from across the circle of students, was the boy with the square mask, the one with the intense blue eyes who had swept Cassie around the gym floor. He kept his gaze on her, ignoring the others that danced all around him. She kept getting caught up in his intensity, kept finding him staring at her across the crowd of people. An unpleasant fluttering in her chest intensified every time she caught him watching her because it wasn’t as though catching him staring discouraged him. He never looked away, never seemed nervous or embarrassed. No, he stared back, tilted his head and observed her, his eyes sweeping down her body and back to her face, a blank challenge.

  She didn’t like it.

  “I’ll be right back.” Cassie hummed in confusion, turning to find Ryan looking down at her. She smiled instantly, nodding. He jogged away, toward the hallway door and passed her father, probably headed to the bathroom. The rest of the group dispersed a bit, Rebecca muttering that she was going to see if she needed to peel Jessica off anyone, and Cassie found herself next to Laney again. She felt the pressure of fingers entwining with her own and looked to find Laney beaming up at her.

  “So?” Laney asked in a leading tone. “What do you think?”

  Cassie looked over Laney’s shoulder, noticed Corey laughing and talking with Jon and Samantha as they made their way toward the entrance, probably on their way to find water after dancing for hours. He was polite, but engaging as well, taking an interest in the people Laney knew and liked and for that, Cassie was impressed. He was good looking too, sweet, and every few minutes, he’d look over, let his gaze sweep over Laney and then go back to his conversation. He seemed to genuinely care. Cassie smiled, almost reluctantly.

  “How long have you been seeing him?” Cassie asked, leaning close to Laney. Her friend laughed uncertainly.

  “I know, it’s intense, isn’t it?” Laney replied, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth in a gesture Cassie recognized as one of nervousness. “It’s happening really fast.”

  “What is, exactly?” Cassie prodded. Laney offered a brief grimacing smile.

  “Him, me,” Laney answered vaguely. “It’s all so real. I’ve never been this … this—”

  “Swept up?” Cassie supplied in the pause. Laney considered for a moment and then a slow grin took over her face. She shrugged in acceptance. Before Cassie could say anything else, Corey was back, his arm on Laney’s forearm, and she was pulled away.

  It struck Cassie though, just as Laney was spun into Corey’s waiting embrace, that it wasn’t the first time she had seen her friend this swept up, only in the past it had never been over a boy. Laney had been this obsessed with something else though: The Gray Lady cemetery, the need to prove the existence of ghosts and goblins and spirits, the desire to make Cassie believe. The intensity that had existed before, the force with which she wanted the world to fit into her beliefs, it was all still there, just transferred onto this boy. Corey was the tangible proof of her obsession.

  Cassie didn’t have time for more than a brief flash of realization before she felt her arm get tugged and she was spun to face Tori Marquard. She barely got out a greeting to the junior from her drama class before Tori blurted out that Ryan was hurt.

  “His hand, it got all smashed up—”

  “Where?” Cassie was already pulling the younger girl toward the door, but Tori just shook her head.

  “He’s not here, that’s what I—” she broke off, swearing lightly. She beckoned Cassie toward the edge of the bleacher where they would be sheltered a bit from the loud music that rang through the gym. In the dark behind the bleachers, Tori explained. She had been coming out of the girl’s bathroom and heard a shout from around the corner. Somehow, and she couldn’t explain how, Ryan got his hand slammed in the bathroom door. It wasn’t bleeding, but it had swelled immediately and Mr. Harris—

  “Oh, sorry, I mean, obviously, your dad,” she blurted out. Cassie gestured impatiently for her to continue.

  It had been suggested, forcefully, that Ryan go to the emergency room. Jon and Samantha had taken him, and they already left. Ryan had asked Tori to find Cassie and explain, and see if her dad would give her a ride home.

  By the time Cassie had run to the hall, her father was already seated back behind the table. Ryan was nowhere in sight. She sighed, told her father Laney would drive her home, and wandered back into the gym, a lead weight seeming to settle in her stomach.

  “Cassie, get in the car.”

  “I don’t want to get in the car.”

  “Get in the car,” Laney hissed, yanking the back passenger side door open. Cassie glanced across the seat, looking over, again, at the boy who sat there waiting for her. She never got his name, but she recognized him as one of Corey’s friends from the dance. He was the one that stared. The square mask was gone, but his eyes still bore into her. She could see him better now, not through the darkened gym hidden behind a mask, but directly under the lit overhead light in Corey’s car. His eyes were a shocking blue, though not completely blue. There were flecks of other colors in them: gray and even green, though maybe that was just a reflection of the forest green shirt he wore. The collar of the shirt was starched and high on his neck, even unbuttoned as it was now. His hair, blond and slightly unruly, hung about the collar, brushing before his eyes as he tucked it behind his ear. He smiled softly in reassurance, though Cassie had never felt more uneasy.

  “I thought you drove. I can get my dad to—” Cassie started in a whisper only t
o feel Laney’s hand on her lower back, pushing.

  “Get. In. The. Car,” her friend said, each word a command on its own. Cassie ducked her head before her face smashed into the door frame, and then she was sitting, pulling her satin dress lower and over her knees, ignoring the grin now blooming on Blue Eyes’ face.

  Corey started the car as soon as Laney was seated next to him and they jerked forward, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the dark road. Cassie looked back over her shoulder. Headlights and the red glare of brakes lit up all over the parking lot. The school would empty soon, though not completely; there was still an hour left of the dance. The underclassmen—the freshman whose parents would be picking them up—wouldn’t leave until it ended. Her father, still stuck at the dance, wouldn’t be done until an hour after that, needing to stay back and clean up.

  Normally the two hours of guaranteed freedom would be enticing. Tonight, Cassie felt jittery, nervous. She knew a large part of why was seated next to her and driving the car.

  “Where are we going?” Cassie asked. She knew from the way that Laney growled back her name that she was being unfriendly and rude. She couldn’t help it. These boys freaked her out. Blue Eyes laughed, his gaze raking over her in a way that wasn’t exactly subtle. She could feel his gaze as it traveled over her form, and she rolled her shoulders in discomfort, tugging her jacket closer around her body.

  “To the graveyard,” Corey answered.

  “Gray Lady,” Laney clarified. “Remember? You suggested it.”

  Cassie hummed vaguely in return, and she could sense Laney’s irritation with her in the subtle shift of her breathing. Blue Eyes still stared, turning slightly in his seat to face her. His hand fell to the cushion between them and even though he was still a foot away, Cassie had the urge to press herself into the car door to further the distance. He seemed to sense it. He breathed a small laugh and then let his hand drift closer to her, his fingertips skirting within an inch of her thigh before he drew back.