Dead Is a State of Mind (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

I was glad to spend the rest of the weekend away from Nightshade, at Grandma Giordano's place. But my troubles were still waiting for me when I got back. On Monday, Samantha found me during morning break.

She was with Jordan Kelley, a cheerleader who was definitely more Sam's friend than mine. Jordan was all right, but I didn't really see what Sam saw in her. Jordan probably wondered the same thing about me.

"So did you and Ryan make up yet?" Sam asked.

I glanced over at Jordan. She was nice enough, but I didn't feel like confiding my troubles to the entire school. "I don't want to talk about it."

Samantha said, "Jordan, why don't you go on along. I'll catch up with you later."

After Jordan left, there was silence.

"Honestly, I can't believe you two are still fighting," she said.

"You can't?" I asked incredulously. "Sam, you were there. He stood me up. On my birthday!"

"You mean he hasn't even tried to explain?"

"I'm getting mixed signals," I admitted, fiddling with the necklace he gave me. "He came over and gave me this the other night. Late."

"I can't believe he thought he could just drop in for a late-night booty call—"

"It wasn't like that, Sam," I said. "And since when do you use words like 'booty call'?"

"All I know is that he was majorly bummed all weekend. Sean told me he said he tried to talk to you, but you wouldn't listen. He's devastated."

"I find that hard to believe," I said. "After the way he acted the other night, it didn't seem like he even wanted to be with me anymore."

"That's ridiculous," Samantha said. "Even if he's been acting weird lately, Ryan Mendez is still totally in love with you. That's what he told Sean. Now, do you want to fix things or what?"

I nodded weakly. Of course I wanted to fix things. I just didn't know how.

"Why don't you come to their baseball game with me tonight? Then the four of us can go to Slim's afterward."

Despite my misgivings, I agreed to go.

"Great," she said. "I'll come over after school to get ready."

After school, we headed for Samantha's car. Instead of her BMW, she got into an older-model red VW convertible. Although still spiffy, it was a step down for a Devereaux.

"Where's the Beamer?" When had Samantha traded in her car? Her parents had just bought her the BMW less than a year ago.

She shrugged. "I got tired of it. This is cute, though, right?"

"Very cute, but—"

"It gets better gas mileage, too," she added.

I stared at her. Since when did Samantha care about saving gas? I narrowed my eyes at her. Something wasn't right.

The Sam I knew wouldn't be caught dead in a used car. I remembered the stack of past-due bills I'd found at her house a few months ago, but I decided not to say anything. It wasn't my business if the Devereauxs were having money troubles. I just hoped Sam would come to me when she needed someone to talk to. I didn't care about her money, or lack thereof, but I did care about Sam.

"What? I'm just trying to be a little more environmentally conscious. You should try it sometime," she said edgily.

Walking, which is what I did most of the time, was pretty much as environmentally conscious as you could get, but I wasn't going to say anything to Sam.

"I love the color," I said and then changed the subject. "What should I wear tonight?"

"Something that'll knock his cleats right off him," she said.

Samantha chattered away on the drive, but I only listened with half an ear. I was nervous about seeing Ryan.

At my house, Samantha vetoed half my closet before she found a midnight blue top I'd inherited from Poppy.

"This is more like it," she said.

I'd never worn it, because it showed more skin than I was used to showing. "I don't know," I said.

"Now let's find a skirt to show off those long legs of yours," she said.

"No skirt," I said. "It's freezing outside." A slight exaggeration, but it was overcast and windy.

"Okay," she said, "But no baggy jeans."

A thought struck me. "What if the game gets rained out?"

"It won't," she assured me. "Now hurry up and get dressed."

I was ready a few minutes later. I brushed off Samantha's attempts to do something with my hair. "Let's go! If we primp any longer, we'll miss the game."

When we got there, the field was damp. Our feet made squishing noises as we walked, and I was glad I'd opted for boots instead of skimpy sandals like the ones Samantha wore.

"You've got your gym sneakers in the car, right? Maybe you should grab them so your feet don't get soaked," I suggested to an uncomfortable-looking Sam.

"No thanks," she sniffed. "I want Sean to notice me, not think I'm one of his teammates."

"No chance of that," I said.

We found an open spot on the bleachers, and Samantha spread out a blanket to cover the cold metal bench.

The team was still warming up. My heart lurched when I saw Ryan in his uniform.

The school mascot was there, jumping around and generally making himself a nuisance. We were the Nightshade Sea Monsters, or Monsters for short.

A few minutes later Sean, concealed head to toe in catcher's gear, stepped behind the plate, and Ryan stepped up to the pitcher's mound and started to warm up.

Samantha gossiped with a couple of the girls from school, but I couldn't take my eyes off Ryan.

The game went by in a blur. I heard the crowd cheering, saw the teams take their turns at batting and fielding, but if you had asked me the score, I would have had no idea. I was mesmerized by the beauty of Ryan's body in motion.

Could I trust him? I hoped I could, but he was definitely keeping something from me. I hoped it wasn't another girlfriend.

It was a good thing my powers were so completely unreliable or I'd be tempted to peek into his mind to find out what he was hiding. Rose wouldn't approve, I know.

When the game was finally over and the teams had shaken hands, Ryan and Sean gathered up their gear and headed toward the bleachers where we were sitting.

"C'mon, let's go," Samantha said.

I stared at her, puzzled. We were going to leave without talking to the guys?

She explained, "I want Sean to get the full effect of my outfit. They'll catch up." If she didn't catch pneumonia first.

Samantha and I grabbed our stuff and headed for the snack bar. They jogged up to us by a picnic table.

"Daisy, you made it!" Ryan said. He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned in and touched my lips to the cinnamon-colored skin near his neck. He jumped as if shocked by the contact and then pulled me closer for a kiss. Maybe Sam was right and everything was going to be okay after all.

"We're heading to the diner," Sean said. "Do you guys want to come with?"

Ryan bent down and whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. "I'd rather be alone with you. My dad's working late tonight."

"I think we'll pass," I said.

We walked with Samantha and Sean to the parking lot. After they left, we walked hand in hand to Ryan's car. But when we got there, someone was already waiting for him: Elise Wilder.

I dropped his hand. "Seems like you already have other plans," I said. I turned on my heels and walked away, forcing myself not to look back. I could hear Ryan calling my name, then the low voice of the girl. I couldn't hear what she said to him, but it sounded urgent, almost hysterical.

I didn't miss the amber-colored glare she sent my way, either.

Ryan didn't follow me, which I guess said it all. Even Sam would have to see my side of things now.

I walked without thinking, my feet taking me in whatever direction they wanted. I finally emerged from my thoughts and noticed my surroundings. I was in the park, and it was past dark. I realized it was a stupid thing to do.

I glimpsed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I didn't slow down to take a picture, just lengthened my stride. I remembered the howling I had heard in the park and shivered at the thought.

I reassured myself that I'd taken a basic self-defense class but ignored the fact that one of the tips I had learned in it was to avoid isolated areas, especially when no one knew where you were.

I'd managed to outrun Nicholas once before when he was in his furrier form, but he was also a friendly werewolf. I had a feeling that whatever was following me wasn't as friendly.

Chapter Seventeen

When I looked over my shoulder, I discovered a different kind of predator entirely.

"Daisy, please wait!" Duke. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

"Duke, you scared me," I said.

"I was driving by and saw you enter the park. I wanted to make sure you were safe," he said.

I was a little creeped out when I realized it had been him following me.

"It is not safe to walk here after dark alone. Let me give you a ride home."

In the distance, I heard a long, mournful howl and decided Duke was the lesser of two evils. And he, at least, was harmless. Whatever had made that noise probably was not.

I followed Duke to his car, which turned out to be a new Lexus. I wondered how a high school junior could afford a car like that. The fortune-telling business must be pretty profitable.

Then again, Nightshade High's parking lot was filled with everything from new Porsches to thirty-year-old Pintos.

He opened the passenger door for me, and a T-shirt fell from the seat. I picked it up, but he snatched it away, though not before I saw the college colors.

"Are you thinking of going there?" I asked.

"What?"

"To Cal State Fullerton," I said, motioning to the orange and navy shirt. I knew orange and navy were their colors because I'd been toying with the idea of going there myself.

Duke seemed perplexed for a moment. "Oh, yes, the T-shirt. I have been thinking of it. Do you know much about it?"

"Only by reputation," I admitted, "but it seems like a great school."

"What about you?" Duke said, relaxing and putting the car into drive. "Any idea of where you will be going?"

"Not yet," I confessed. "There are a few I like, but picking a college feels pretty overwhelming."

We made polite conversation on the way, but when he pulled into my driveway, things turned more serious.

Without asking permission, he took my right hand, flipped it palm up, and studied it intently.

He traced the longest line with a lone finger. I suppressed a tiny shiver—not of dread but of attraction.

"You have a strong life line, Daizee," he said.

"Er, thank you," I said. How had his arm ended up on the back of my seat?

"Daizee, have you thought any more about prom?"

"I've been busy." Lame excuse, but I didn't want to admit I'd been waiting for Ryan.

"And the boy you have been waiting for—he has not extended an invitation?" Maybe Duke
was
psychic. He'd certainly homed in on my thoughts quickly enough.

I shook my head. I didn't trust my voice enough to answer him.

"I wonder if this boy no longer returns your regard," he continued. "I have the utmost respect for you. I think we have much in common."

He leaned closer and captured a strand of my hair between his fingers. The smoothness of the gesture made me wonder how many other girls he'd practiced it on. Still, there was something intoxicating about his brilliant blue eyes. I stared into them.

"And we could have even more in common." His tone turned seductive as he moved closer still.

I was relieved when the porch light went on. For once, I was glad that Poppy was doing her usual spying. I was so not ready for anything Duke had in mind.

"I've got to go," I said. I got out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

I hurried inside, kicking myself for being stupid enough to accept a ride home from Duke, even though my only alternative had been to roam around Nightshade with a killer on the loose. But I was also kicking myself for giving Ryan another chance. Obviously, whatever Elise needed was more important than a night alone with me.

Chapter Eighteen

The next day, Ryan was in our last-period gym class, but he didn't look very well. He was grim faced and red eyed, and even had a bit of stubble. He almost looked like he'd been out drinking all night, but Ryan didn't drink. Or at least he didn't used to.

When the dismissal bell rang and I headed out to the parking lot, I heard his voice behind me. "Daisy, wait up. There's something I want to talk to you about."

I crossed my arms and sighed. He looked at me pleadingly. "I'm sorry about last night, but you don't understand the situation."

I just looked at him, then finally said, "Did it involve death or dismemberment?" Cold, I know, but I'm a girl with issues. Standing me up makes me cranky, especially since I had a dad who was a permanent no-show.

"No, but—"

" Then I don't want to hear it," I said.

I started to walk away, but he called after me, "I heard you got a ride home from Duke Sherrad."

'At least
he
cared enough to make sure I got home safely." The words were out of my mouth before I'd finished thinking them.

"What are you doing with that guy?" he said.

I stopped and whirled around, enraged. "I could ask you the same question about Elise!"

"Daisy, you've just got to trust me," Ryan said.

"You keep saying to trust you, but you won't tell me what's happening, you never show up when you say you will, and you're always with that girl."

"There's nothing going on between Elise and me," he said.

"Then what's with all the secrecy? If it's not Elise, then what is it?"

Ryan paused. "I can't tell you," he said.

"Then I can't do this anymore." I walked away, and he didn't stop me. I waited until I was out of sight before bursting into tears.

I couldn't believe it. The thing I'd been dreading had finally happened. Ryan had broken up with me. Hadn't he? Well, maybe technically I had broken up with him, but that was only because he didn't give me any other choice.

When I told my sisters, I was surprised at Rose's reaction.

"Give him a little space," Rose advised. "He'll come around."

"Space?" I said. "I've given him Grand Canyons of space."

"Maybe there's something going on that you don't know about," Rose continued.

I stared at her. "Like what? Besides that he's spending all his time with another girl? I
know
that."

"But you don't know why."

"Yes, I do," I said. "I know three reasons. Tall, brunette, and gorgeous."

I went upstairs a few minutes later. I wasn't getting much sympathy from my sister. I decided to hash things out with Samantha. I knocked on Poppy's bedroom door. "I'm going to take the car," I told her.

"Can you drop me off at Mort's?" Poppy said.

What? Usually she complained at least a little when I wanted to take the car, but she was actually smiling.

"Sure," I said, "but I may be a while. I'm going to Samantha's to hang out."

"Take your time. Gage is going to help me with my English lit homework. I've got to get my grade up to a C or Mom will kill me."

"Gage is going to help you?" I asked. Poppy didn't seem to find anything odd about the idea of a ghost helping her with her homework. And she was wearing her favorite top and perfume. And as gorgeous as Poppy normally is, she looked even prettier than usual. She looked like she was getting ready for a date instead of a night of studying.

"Sure. He's a senior, too. And he's positively brilliant. He helped me with physics last night."

"You mean he
was
a senior," I said as gently as I could. Poppy's growing attachment to Gage was making me nervous. I mean, talk about a relationship that wasn't going to go anywhere. Like I had room to talk—but at least my guy was alive.

" That's what I said," Poppy replied. She shrugged it off, but her smile had disappeared.

I dropped her off at Mort's and then worried about her the rest of the way to Sam's. Poppy talked tough, but in her heart, she was as soft as a marshmallow.

When I pulled up to the palatial Devereaux house, I was in for a shock. There was a large FOR SALE sign on the front lawn.

As I approached the front door, I could hear Samantha arguing with someone.

"You couldn't wait until I finished high school for this? It's already the end of my junior year."

I couldn't hear what the reply was, but the voice was a woman's. Mrs. Devereaux must be in town doing a little flyby parenting.

"And whose fault is that?" Sam said, her voice rising.

"Samantha, will you keep your voice down? We do not want to let every eavesdropping neighbor know our business." Sam's mother's voice was clearly identifiable now.

I felt like a creep listening in on their argument. I hastily rang the doorbell and waited.

Several minutes later, Mrs. Devereaux threw open the door.

What, no servants?
I thought.

I detected a hint of anger in her face before she carefully smoothed it away into an expression of bland pleasantness.

"Daisy Giordano," she said. She looked as enthused as I felt when hearing the news that there would be a pop quiz. In other words, not very. "What a lovely surprise."

In other words, polite people called first.

"Hello, Mrs. Devereaux. Is Samantha here?"

"Samantha is..." She paused, obviously trying to think up a way to get rid of me.

"Out of here," Samantha said from behind her. She brushed by her mother. "Let's go, Daisy!" she said as she walked out without a backward glance.

She headed for her car, but I stopped her. "I have my car. Why don't I drive?"

Sam didn't answer, but she got into the passenger seat. Her knuckles showed white as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

I drove silently for a few minutes, letting Samantha regain her composure.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Sam said.

She didn't say a word for the next half hour. We'd pretty much covered the whole town twice over, except the detours I'd made to avoid Ryan's house and the Wilder place. I felt a twinge at the thought of him but repressed it. Samantha's problems were bigger than mine.

Eventually, I pulled up in front of Slim's and turned off the motor. "How about a cup of coffee?"

Samantha finally smiled. "How about a chocolate shake instead?"

Things were bad if Sam was resorting to junk food.

When we entered the restaurant, the jukebox cut off in mid-song. The locals were used to it, but two stray tourists looked a little spooked when "Poison Cup" by M. Ward began to play. Probably just Lil's sad commentary on my love life.

Flo gave us a couple of menus and pointed to a booth in the back.

After we ordered a variety of high-calorie items, Samantha told me everything. Some things I'd suspected, like that her parents were having serious money troubles, but some things I didn't know, like that her dad was hardly ever home anymore and her mom had practically taken up permanent residence with Sam's grandparents in San Francisco.

"And they're getting a divorce," she said. "That's why they're selling the house. Mom wants me to move to San Francisco with her."

"Leave Nightshade? But you can't!" I was so shocked that I barely noticed Flo putting our food on the table. The thought of losing Samantha scared me. She was a royal pain sometimes, but she was still my best friend.

"What else can I do?"

I pushed away my fries, suddenly no longer hungry. "What about your dad? Can't you live with him?"

"He's busy with his research. And when he's not doing that, he's busy with book tours."

"You should ask him, Samantha. Maybe he'll say yes. At least
try
to stay in Nightshade."

"Dad
did
get a three-bedroom condo in the hills by the university," she said. "Maybe I will ask him."

" Three bedrooms for one person? He probably got an extra room for you."

Sam started to say something, but she was distracted by someone coming in.

"What the hell?" she said. "What's Ryan doing with her?"

I didn't look up. I knew who I'd see standing next to Ryan. Elise Wilder.

"We broke up," I said. "That's what I came over to your house to talk about."

"You should have said something," she said.

"You have bigger things to worry about than my pathetic love life."

"That creep," she said. "I can't believe he broke up with you this close to prom."

"Would it have been any better to wait until
after
prom?" I didn't think so.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe not," she admitted. She paused, "You're going with Duke now, of course."

"What? No, of course not. I'm skipping prom," I said.

"You can't!" she said. "Promise me you'll at least think about—I don't believe it. They're coming over here."

"You've got to be kidding me," I said. But she wasn't. Ryan and Elise were almost at our table.

Could my day get any better?

"Hi, Daisy," Ryan said solemnly.

Samantha and I exchanged glances. Was Ryan clueless, or was he trying to rub my face in it?

"Ryan, Elise," I said, as civilly as I could—which, truthfully, wasn't very civilly at all.

"Elise thought it would be a good idea if we talked—to clear up any misunderstandings."

The jukebox kicked on. "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" by the Clash. I knew the answer.

"Sorry, Ryan, we were just leaving," I said. I stood and grabbed the check. "Maybe some other time." Yeah, I'd be hanging out with my ex and his new girlfriend. Not in this lifetime.