“Alexis, if I wanted to hurt you,” she said, stepping out into the garage, “I’d whack you with a shovel.” To prove it, she reached out toward the rack and poked one of the shovels with a single finger, setting it bobbing on its hooks. Then she opened the door to the house and disappeared down the hall.
She was right; if she meant to harm me, she’d had the chance. I went into my bedroom and put on a pair of pajama pants.
Kasey met me in the kitchen. We sat on opposite sides of the island. Outside, the wind howled resentfully down the narrow street, thrashing the poor saplings in the median.
“Now,” I said. “Get to the point.”
“I was at Adrienne’s last Friday,” she said. “Remember?”
Like that was a night that would just slip your mind. And then suddenly, horribly, I remembered how she’d tried to back out but I’d made her go.
She either didn’t think about that or was too polite to rub it in. “We were playing ‘truth or dare’ and I said dare, but they wanted me to do truth. And they asked me why I had to go to Harmony Valley.”
“So you told them,” I said, like a prosecutor on a TV show, “what we all, as a family, agreed to tell people. That you have a mild form of schizophrenia.”
“Yes, Lexi, I did.” Her eyes flashed. “But Lydia did a research paper on schizophrenia last year, and she asked me a bunch of questions that I couldn’t answer.”
“She accused you of lying? Typical Lydia.”
“No, she didn’t say it like that,” Kasey said. “She thought maybe I’d been misdiagnosed and I should get a second opinion. She wanted to help. But then…I messed up. She asked what medication I took, and I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say…so I said none.”
I knew it without even having to think. I’d know it in my sleep. Haldol. If anyone asked, Kasey was on Haldol.
“Then Adrienne said she was going to call her big brother, who’s in medical school, and she wouldn’t let me talk her out of it.” Kasey’s hands fluttered in the air in front of her. “So I had to tell her…tell them the truth.”
“No, you didn’t have to,” I said. “You could have told her to mind her own business, Kase. You could have said you wanted to go home. You could have called me. You could have left the room.”
Her face fell. “But Lexi,” she said. “They were nice to me.”
She hung her head and studied the countertop.
I sighed. “Then what?”
“Lydia didn’t really believe it at first.”
“You had a chance to take it back?” I asked, but I’d lost the will to play the angry lawyer.
“Not really. Tashi believes in ghosts, and they all talked about it for a while, and then we talked about how depressing it was to be—to be social rejects.” She took a shaky breath. “And then Adrienne said she’d found this book that promised to make you prettier and more popular.”
“Found it where?”
Kasey shrugged. “I thought it was like a party game. I tried to talk them out of it, but they didn’t listen. I wasn’t going to do it—but they said we should all—”
“You weren’t going to do what?” I asked.
She was on the verge of tears. “Did you know people put notes in my locker? They called me psycho. Once, when I went to the bathroom, someone put a—a dead cockroach in my purse. And Mimi got everyone to throw the ball at me in dodgeball—even people on my own team.”
“Just finish your sentence,” I said. “You should all…”
“They said we should start a club,” she said. “Based on the book. Really, it was Adrienne’s idea.”
“What’s the book about?”
She looked stricken. “I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s not in English. Adrienne thinks it’s Norwegian.”
“Oh, Kase, seriously?”
“Then the pizzas got there, and we ate, and Barney ran away. And then…well, you know that part. The next day, we started the Sunshine Club to try to improve ourselves.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “So it’s just a book?”
I was on the edge of being massively relieved. A book of advice didn’t seem so bad. In fact, if Kasey was that hypersensitive—that just playing around with antiques made her nervous—I could rest a little easier at night.
“Well, yeah.” She traced the grout in the tile counter- top with her pinkie finger. “I mean, it’s actually more of a…”
“What was that? You’re mumbling.”
Her eyes flashed up defiantly. “It’s a dwelling.”
My neck muscles seemed to go slack, and I found myself staring up at the recessed lights in the ceiling. A dwelling. As in, someone—or something—lived inside of it.
“Right,” I said. Because nothing that has anything to do with Kasey can ever be easy. “And whose dwelling is it?”
She turned to gaze out the window. “I’m not supposed to say.”
“Kasey,” I said. But she wouldn’t look at me. I reached over the countertop and shook her shoulder roughly. “Hey.”
She peeked over at me, biting her lip. “His name is Aralt.”
I made a little pocket with my hands and breathed into it, trying to clear my thoughts.
“His name is Aralt,” I repeated.
Her reply was practically a squeak. “Yes.”
“Unreal.” I sighed and turned away.
“Not all ghosts are bad, Lexi—Megan’s mom was good.” She bit her knuckle.
I didn’t even acknowledge that. “So the book is written in Norwegian, but somehow you guys convinced Aralt to come out and give you makeovers.” And when I thought about it, Kasey had been getting steadily prettier as the days went on. Doing her hair, wearing makeup, accessorizing.
She nodded. “But it’s more than that. I mean, Adrienne doesn’t even need her cane anymore!”
“Yeah,” I said. “I noticed.”
“And at school, people want to be around us. We got four new members this week.”
“But how, Kasey? What did you do to get Aralt to help you? If you don’t speak the same language—”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he understands English,” she said. “He seems really smart.”
Like he was some dreamy foreign exchange student.
This situation was quickly spiraling beyond my ability to control myself. I reached for the phone.
“What are you doing?”
The sound of Kasey’s voice caught me. It wasn’t a lack of fear—she sounded plenty scared. But there was a note of something else. Like she was issuing a challenge.
I faced her. “You mean, am I calling Agent Hasan?”
She blinked.
“No,” I said. “I’m calling Megan.”
Five minutes later, there was a loud knock at the door. Kasey jumped back in her seat. Then the doorbell rang about ten times in a row.
“Alexis! Are you there? Open up!”
I pulled open the door. “Hey.”
Megan came in, pushing up the sleeves of her jacket. She was out of breath. “I had to totally lie to Grandma. Are you serious about this? We have to call Agent Hasan. Where’s your sister?” Her face tensed as she caught sight of Kasey.
“We’re talking,” I said.
Megan glanced from me to my sister and back.
“I don’t think we need to call. Yet.” That earned me a you’ve got to be kidding look, but I pointed toward the kitchen. “Come sit down.”
Megan didn’t make a move. She beckoned me closer. “Alexis, what are you doing?”
“Gathering information,” I said.
She spoke like a kindergarten teacher. “And are you a hundred-percent sure information-gathering is the best thing to do right now?”
“No. I’m zero-percent sure,” I said. “But if we tell on her, they’ll be here tonight. And we might never see her again.”
“You don’t know that that’s how they work.” She cast another glance over my shoulder.
“No, I don’t know anything about ho
w they work,” I said. “That’s what scares me.”
Megan sighed and looked at my sister, who was resting her head on her folded arms.
“Please,” I said. “A little more time. What happened to ‘There are ghosts everywhere’?”
“Lex, don’t even.” Megan narrowed her eyes and reached into her pocket for her phone. “The number’s loaded in here. All I have to do is hit ‘send.’”
“If it comes to that,” I said, “fine.”
Megan walked past me and took a seat across from Kasey, leaving the phone on the counter, fingers poised over it.
We went through the story again. Megan grilled where I’d merely skimmed.
“Have you ever seen Aralt?”
Kasey shook her head. “No. I don’t think you see him.”
Megan leaned forward. “How do you know it’s a him?”
She shrugged. “We just know he is.”
“But who is he?”
Kasey blinked. “He’s Aralt.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “But where’s he from? How old is he? Is he a ghost?”
“He’s from the book,” Kasey said. “That’s all I know.”
“Does he talk to you? What does he say? How do you know what to do, if it’s not in English?”
“It’s not like he talks out loud.” Kasey bit down on her lip. “I guess it’s more like…a feeling.”
Megan leaned forward, the tips of her fingers pressing into the countertop. “What does he make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” My sister leaned back. “I guess, like, you feel what he feels. If you try hard to look pretty or do something good, he likes it.”
“And what if he doesn’t like something?”
Kasey scrunched her nose. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to her that having a supernatural boyfriend might not always be sunshine and puppy dogs. “Um…I guess he’d be sad?”
“Not angry?”
“Not like Sarah?” I interjected.
“Uh-uh,” Kasey said. “No. Not at all like Sarah.”
Megan gave her a cool look. “So what’s he after?”
“Nothing,” Kasey said.
“Ohhh, cool, so you guys get to be beautiful and smart and popular, and that’s all he needs to be happy?”
“I guess so.”
“Wrong,” Megan said. “That’s not how it works. And when does it end?”
“At graduation,” Kasey said.
“And when is that? Next week, next year, never?”
My sister blinked at her hands, clueless.
“Do you remember any of the words from the book?” I asked.
Kasey shook her head.
“And that thing in the woods?” I asked. “Was that him?”
Megan raised an eyebrow. “What thing in the woods?”
“No,” Kasey said. “He’s made of spirit energy. He doesn’t come out of the book. I don’t know what that was.”
“I refuse to believe that a giant mysterious animal just happened to visit Lakewood the same night you started messing with a new ghost.”
“Wait,” Megan said, her brown eyes accusing me. “I never heard anything about this.”
I sighed. “I’ll explain later.”
Megan sat back. She slid her phone back and forth across the counter from hand to hand.
“If the book is a dwelling, it has to be the power center,” I said. “The ghost’s energy is tied to it. So we need to destroy the book.”
The color drained from my sister’s face. “Adrienne hides it somewhere. I don’t know where. She would never let anything happen to it.”
“But she brings it to meetings, right?”
“Yeah…but it’s not like she just passes it around.” Kasey sighed. “Listen, you guys. I know it sounds bad, but please…I can handle it.”
She must have seen the skeptical expressions on our faces, but she pressed on.
“If I talk to them, and tell them it’s not a good idea, they’ll listen to me.” She glanced pleadingly from me to Megan. “They’re my friends!”
“Not very good friends,” Megan said. “If they got you wrapped up in this mess.”
Kasey stared up at us, her eyes wide. “Please.”
“You know what?” I said. “Fine, Kasey. You want to fix it yourself? Go ahead.”
My sister hesitated. Across the table, Megan was watching me.
“She’s right,” I said to Megan, shrugging. “They’re her friends. Go ahead, Kasey. Get them out of it.”
Kasey swallowed hard. Her fists were tight balls pressing into the counter. “I will.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then it’s handled.”
“Whatever,” Megan said, giving me a wary glance. “I’d better get going.”
“I’ll walk you out,” I said.
Once we got outside the front door, she stopped and looked at me.
“You aren’t serious,” she said.
“No, of course not,” I said. “But there’s no point in arguing with her.”
Megan sighed. “Okay, thank God,” she said. “Because for a minute I thought you’d lost your mind. Now, could you please explain to me what this thing is that you keep talking about? A mystery animal? When were you in the woods? And why didn’t you tell me about it before tonight?”
“It’s not important,” I lied. The last thing I wanted was Megan suggesting a late-night trip to Lakewood. “It was a coyote or something.”
I’d hurt her feelings. Her eyes were too bright, and she looked like she had something to say. But she didn’t say it. “Fine. So what’s the plan?”
“We’re going to go to their next meeting,” I said. “And we’re going to get the book and destroy it. And no one is going to get hurt.”
“Right.” Megan glanced at the time on her phone. “Except me, if I don’t make it home by ten thirty.”
MONDAY MORNING, I found Carter sitting on a low brick wall in the courtyard, bent over a copy of Moby Dick. When I stepped into the sun, casting a shadow over the pages, he marked his place with the dust jacket and set the book down.
“Good morning,” he said, squinting up at me.
“Hi,” I said. “Sorry I missed your calls yesterday. I was doing a photo shoot with my sister and things got…hectic.”
“No worries.”
“But I missed you,” I said, scooting next to him. As soon as I said it, I meant it. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his sleeve.
“You’re coming this afternoon, right?” he asked.
“What?”
“To my poster party?”
“Refresh me on what a poster party is again?”
“A campaign thing. Zoe Perry arranged it. She’s the girl I was talking to at the party for like a half hour. Keaton Perry’s little sister.”
I tried to remember her, but I couldn’t recall her face, just a voice and a bunch of political buzzwords: alignment, empowerment, proactivity. “The boring one?”
He laughed. “I hope not. What would that say about me?”
“That you’re good at humoring boring people?”
“Anyway, I need you there. I can’t be alone with her and her friends. They seem to be confusing high school politics with real politics.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I can’t come.”
“Seriously? Why not?”
Honesty is the best policy, right? “I’m hanging out with my sister and her friends.”
The corner of his mouth went up in confusion. “The Sunshine Club?”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to call them that.”
“Why not? Everyone does. They’re like a cult.” His shoulders pressed back. “And when did you decide this? Because I asked you about the party last week and you said yes.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I forgot. Any other day except today. I need to do this for Kasey. She’s having some problems fitting in.”
“Are you joking?” he asked. “Does that look like someone having problems fitting in?”
“You don’t understand,” I said. And he couldn’t. Because if he knew the truth, he’d flip out.
“Maybe I don’t,” he said. “You’re one of the people who really wanted me to run for president this year, and now you’re disappearing when my campaign needs you.”
“I’m not disappearing,” I said. “I’m missing one little arts and crafts party thrown by a bunch of boring preps.”
His laugh had no humor behind it. “Thanks, Lex. I love being called names.”
Just like I love being expected to make campaign appearances like some lame wifey with no life of her own. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Okay, well, I wish you could stop saying things you don’t mean. Like that I’m one of a million boring preps—or that you’ll spend time with me.”
“Where’s all this coming from?” I asked.
“I guess I don’t like being lied to,” he said.
“Who’s lying?”
He enumerated on his fingers. “You said you’d come today. You’re not going to. You say it’s because Kasey is having problems. She’s clearly not. If you’re somehow suddenly too cool to help with my campaign, I wish you’d just say it.”
“I’ve never been too cool for anything in my entire life,” I said, bristling at the accusation of lying. “I forgot about the stupid party, Carter. Sue me!”
“All right,” he said. “When you can clear some time between cult meetings, let me know.” He checked his watch. “I have to go find Zoe and tell her we’ll need extra help.”
“Stop. Please. I hate this,” I said, reaching out to him. “Can’t we just not be angry?”
“I’m not angry, Lex…I’m sad.” And he walked away.
We spent the morning exchanging terse text messages.
First, I apologized, and he said he accepted it.
The rational, grown-up thing to do would be to let it go. But I could feel the tension behind his words. So I texted him back that he didn’t have to accept my apology, and he replied that I was the one who couldn’t accept that he could accept it perfectly well…and then my fourth-period teacher made me put my phone away.
From Bad to Cursed Page 8
