Arise (37 page)

“We need to think up some excuse to get Amelia home with us,” he murmured. “
Before
we leave for Oklahoma.”

“I can just go invisible again. Maybe just hang out somewhere out of the way …”

“I think I’ve got it covered,” Jillian said. “Just let me do the talking.”

She hurried the few remaining feet to the Mayhews’ town house; but before she could knock on the door, I called out to her.

“Jillian, wait.”

I jogged over, unzipping my overnight bag with one hand. Reaching into the opening, I tugged out the first piece of fabric I could grasp. Then I stretched out my hand to offer Jillian a bundle of pink silk.

“Unless it’s part of your plan,” I said, “you’d better wipe off all that blood.”

She gingerly touched the cut at her temple and withdrew blood-coated fingertips.

“Gross,” she muttered. With her clean hand, she took the fabric from me. She’d nearly brought it to her head when she paused and stared wide-eyed at the silk.

“Am I crazy,” she asked, “or does that label say Dior?”

I shrugged. “Just think of it as the world’s most expensive compress.”

Jillian cringed, but after another moment’s hesitation, she pressed the fabric to her temple. She held it there for a while, making sure the blood flow had been completely staunched, and then started to dab the mess clean. While she did so, she smiled at me.

It was a macabre sort of image: a pretty young girl holding a bloody shirt to her head and smiling. Although the sight was odd, it was also one of the few times I’d seen Jillian smile genuinely. And she smiled at
me
. Even in this strange moment, I couldn’t help but feel that she and I had just reached some kind of milestone.

“Thanks,” she said, wiping away the last traces of blood. I don’t think I imagined the many layers to that one word: a thank-you for the compress, sure, but also for saving her life. Again.

She wadded up the fabric and then looked up at me. “Don’t suppose you want this back, do you?”

I held up both hands. “It’s all yours, Jillian. But maybe you should just stash it somewhere for now?”

“Good idea.” She wiped off her hands and then tossed the ruined silk into the alley next to the house. Looking far more presentable now, she walked over to the front door and knocked. While we waited for someone to answer it, I allowed myself a covert peek at Joshua.

In the darkness, I couldn’t see his eyes. But I could tell he’d given me a sidelong glance too. I saw his hand flex toward me, just once, before the front door burst open and a riot of noise from inside the house poured into the street.

Rebecca Mayhew stood in the doorway, looking almost as frantic as the crowd of people rushing around in all directions behind her. For a second she seemed baffled by our presence—particularly mine. But then she shook her head and pulled Jillian in for an enormous hug.

“Your grandmother is in the hospital,” Rebecca murmured into her daughter’s long hair.

“I know,” Jillian said, her voice muffled against her mother’s shoulder. “Joshua told me.”

Rebecca released Jillian so that she could breathe, but then wrapped one arm tightly around her daughter again. With Jillian thus secured, Rebecca raked her free hand through her black hair and looked back into the house. Now that her children were safe, she was obviously torn about what to do or who to help next.

“Mom,” Jillian said, trying to regain her mother’s attention. “What exactly happened to Grandma Ruth?”

Rebecca looked back at her daughter and sighed wearily.

“Well, apparently, your grandmother took some herbal supplements to get rid of her headache. But I guess she just made things worse, since whatever she took is pretty toxic. Thank God she was conscious enough tonight to realize that something was wrong and she needed to call an ambulance. She must have given Joshua’s cell number to that female EMT—that’s how we knew to come home from Antoine’s and why Joshua went to find all of you at that party.”

Beside me, Joshua squirmed uncomfortably.
Gaby
had called him, not an EMT. And his cousins hadn’t gone to a party—they’d conducted a séance under the direction of the boy who had poisoned their grandmother. I knew Joshua well enough to sense how conflicted he felt: he was relieved that his mom didn’t know the true story, just as much as he probably regretted the complex web of lies that we’d have to keep weaving.

Unaware of her son’s dilemma, Rebecca continued explaining the official version of tonight’s events. “Your dad’s at the ER right now. The doctor told him Ruth should be fine in a few hours—she just needed lots of fluids and rest since she had to get her stomach pumped.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Joshua wince. At that moment I felt a fierce stab of regret that I hadn’t plunged Alex—or Kade, or whoever he was—into the darkness myself. Now it was
my
hand flexing, toward Joshua’s. But of course, I pulled it back to my side before we could touch. Before he even noticed what I’d done.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked his mother.

“Your dad is going to bring Ruth home whenever they release her sometime tomorrow afternoon.” Rebecca checked her watch and sighed again. “Actually, sometime today. When Ruth gets home, we’ll do Christmas then. After that, I think the entire family has agreed that we’re all going to go home early, the morning after Christmas, to give Ruth some quiet time to rest.”

Both Joshua and Jillian nodded, relieved—I think—to just get home. Jillian’s expression changed, however, when her eyes met mine.

“Mom,” she said, still holding my gaze, “this is my really good friend Amelia. You remember me talking about her?”

Rebecca gave me a vague look that was a cross between a welcoming smile and a frown of uncertainty. “Amelia … Yes, your name sounds familiar.”

Beside me, Joshua stifled a cough. He knew very well why my name sounded familiar—because he’d been whispering it inside her house for months. Luckily, Jillian kept a cooler head and continued with the fabrication.

“That party we were at tonight, Mom? It was at Amelia’s boyfriend’s house. See, she’s home-schooled in Wilburton, and she met her boyfriend online. He lives here, so her parents let her ride down here with some friends to visit him. But it turns out he’s actually a total jerk, and the party … it didn’t end so well—”

Rebecca didn’t wait for her daughter to finish. She released Jillian and strode over to me, stopping less than a foot away and studying my face closer. Only when she crossed her arms did I think about how I must have looked: pale, gaunt cheeks; tangled hair; dirty couture clothing.

“Did someone try to hurt you, honey?” Rebecca asked, low enough that only Joshua and I could hear. I could just see Joshua’s jaw clench, probably because he knew who’d tried to hurt me. I was weak enough to hope that Alex’s actions toward me had made Joshua want to hurt him back.

I nodded slowly, fighting to keep my eyes forward, on Rebecca and not on her son. “Yes, ma’am,” I whispered. I didn’t have to lie, and for that I was grateful.

It looked as if Rebecca might reach out to touch me, and I flinched. That would have been the cherry on this already-strange sundae: the first time I meet the mother of the boy I love, I’m covered in cuts
and
she can’t touch me. Not the first impression I’d dreamed of making.

Thankfully, Rebecca must have read my reaction as one of understandable shell shock. She gave me a close-lipped, sympathetic smile.

“Would you like a ride home with us, honey?” she asked softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated. “I’d really appreciate it.”

Rebecca jerked her head toward the door. “Jillian, why don’t you take your friend upstairs and help her get cleaned up? Amelia, honey, you’ll have to excuse the chaos inside—we’re having a minor family crisis.”

“I understand crisis, ma’am.”

Her sharp eyes studied my clothes one more time. “Yes. Looks like you do.”

With that settled, Rebecca nodded lightly and then turned to go back inside, giving Jillian’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passed.

Once her mother had disappeared from view, Jillian caught my eye. “You can … stay in my room tonight. If you want.”

She’d started to accept me a bit, but I still heard some lingering reluctance in her tone.

Before I could tell her that I’d just find a spare corner and go invisible, Joshua—who’d been silent this entire time—finally spoke.

“Amelia can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Jillian’s eyes darted back and forth between Joshua and me, like she was watching a tennis match. Which was ironic, actually, considering the fact that neither Joshua nor I seemed to breathe, much less move.

“Well,” Jillian said, after an awkwardly long pause, “you kids have fun with
that
conversation. I’m calling dibs on the second-floor shower ’cause it’s the biggest. So … good night.”

She gave me one last meaningful look before ducking through the open doorway and into the house.

After she’d gone, the silence drew out like a knife. Joshua and I both stood rigid, motionless in the flickering light of the gas lamps. The air between us felt charged, but by what, I wasn’t sure. Anger? Desire? Uncertainty?

Eventually, Joshua spoke. “The joke’s on Jillian—the hot water went out this morning on the second floor, and
only
on the second floor.”

“Should we tell her?” I asked. I took a sidelong glance, and saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly.

“And spoil the fun?” he said. “Shame on you, Amelia. I thought I knew you so well.”

“Don’t you?”

When Joshua didn’t answer, I turned to find him watching me intently. Catching my lower lip between my teeth, I finally allowed myself to meet his gaze.

The second our eyes met, my poor, mixed-up heart did a little flip. It had only been one day—albeit an incredibly long, afterlife-changing day—but I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed his eyes.

We stared at each other for a long, quiet moment until Joshua gestured with one arm toward the door.

“The third-floor shower really is the best one in the house.
And
it works. Promise.”

I couldn’t help but groan happily. “A shower sounds amazing. You have no idea how badly I’ve missed those.”

Joshua grinned broadly and waved one hand in front of his nose. “You have no idea how badly you need one after tonight.”

“Hey.” I laughed, and then fought the urge to give him a playful nudge.

After all, I couldn’t nudge him, even if I tried. And besides, given the events of the past few days, it felt strange to laugh with him again. Not wrong, necessarily. Just strange.

“So,” I said quietly, fidgeting with the edge of my tank. Flattening the hem against my thighs although that might have been the only portion of the tank that had survived tonight unscathed.

Joshua noticed my anxious movements, and his grin widened. “So … upstairs?”

“Definitely,” I said, nodding with a confidence I didn’t actually feel.

As I followed him into the house, I didn’t know whether to feel relief or regret about how we were interacting right now: calm; normal; without any discussion of the wild few days we’d just had. Was that a good thing? Bad? My mouth twisted in frustration as I walked behind him in the foyer. I was so lost in thought, I almost didn’t look into the crowded dining room.

But at the last second I turned and saw Annabel sitting at the head of the dining table, flanked by Drew and Hayley. Annabel had her head in her hands, massaging her temples in an effort to get rid of what must have been a wicked serpentwood hangover. The moment our eyes met, she frowned miserably. Drew and Hayley followed her gaze; and when they saw me, their expressions mirrored Annabel’s.

For a second I thought about storming over to them and delivering some whispered rebuke about how stupid they’d been to trust Alex. But I just couldn’t bring myself to blame them. Nor did I have the energy to rush over and wrap them in a forgiving hug, either. So instead, I gave the group a very slight nod and moved on through the foyer, toward the stairs that Joshua had already started to ascend.

By the time he and I hit the second landing, my thighs stung from the effort of the climb. Too much adrenaline burned tonight, too much running and fighting had left me absolutely spent. Wiped of almost every last drop of energy.

When we finally made it to the third floor, I leaned heavily against the wall outside the bathroom door. Joshua moved around me to turn the doorknob, but I placed my hand on the wood just above his.

“That’s okay, I’ll do it.”

He paused and then lifted one eyebrow, staring intently at me. “So … it’s true?”

I released a ragged sigh. I expected this conversation—in fact, I
wanted
to have it—but I wasn’t sure I had the strength to discuss everything right now.

“It’s true. I’ll tell you everything, if you want.”

Fortunately, Joshua shook his head no. “Later,” he offered. “After you’ve had time to rest.”

“Thank you,” I said, sighing in relief. “Just give me a chance to take a shower and change. Then we can talk.”

He nodded, moving away from the door to go toward the stairs. Before he descended them, Joshua looked back at me.

“Amelia?” he called, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. Despite his hushed tone, and despite my crushing exhaustion, the sound of my name on his lips still made my heart wrench.

“Yes?” I whispered back.

Joshua opened his mouth, about to say something, then shut it and shook his head. “Never mind,” he whispered. “Enjoy your shower.”

Without a backward glance, he took the stairs two steps at a time, as if he needed to get away from me. Fast.

Watching him, I frowned.

Normally, I wouldn’t have let him go. I would have run after him, confessed everything in a jumbled rush, and then waited breathlessly for his answer.

But tonight it took every ounce of my energy to stay upright long enough to twist the knob and push the door open with one shoulder. I dropped my overnight bag in the hallway, closed the door behind me, and turned to face the tiny, white-tiled room.