Dead Spell (15 page)

“What is Maple 6?”

The room went out of focus and Brea blinked to clear her vision. It was like looking through dirty glass. A burst of air blew past her, and then something pinned her to the ground. A shadow moved in the corner and her dresser mirror fogged. A pair of phantom hands appeared and wrote the words:
help me.

Sweat soaked through the armpits and back of Brea’s shirt and her heart pounded.

“Stop,” she finally managed to shout and in an instant, everything stopped.

She kicked the board over and tried to stand, but she felt dazed, as if she was just off the tea cup ride. She pressed her palms to her eyelids and tears seeped around them. Her muscles ached with a flu-like soreness, and she felt feverish and more tired than she’d ever been in her life. Her sweating turned to a bone-deep chill and she wrapped up tight in her down comforter, terrified to move.

25
.

Brea made it through the entire school day without running into Rachael, which figured. Now that Brea had the best possible comeback—now that she was something to Jaxon that Rachael could never be—she was nowhere to be found.

Brea wondered if it was intentional.

The last period bell rang and she navigated the crowd, nervous for “the surprise.” Jaxon told her at lunch that he had something to do, but that he’d be back in time to drive her home.

A text message said he’d be there in a minute.

She traded her books for the ones she needed for homework and went down the hall toward the front door.

The bulk of the cheer squad gathered at the vending machines in the cafeteria and Brea kept her head down when she passed them. They’d be going out to the football field for practice in no time and she’d have to deal with Rachael.

“So much for peace and quiet.”

Brea texted Jaxon back, “Hurry up.”

She blended in to the group waiting for pick-ups and doodled on a blank journal page. When the front doors opened behind her, she didn’t look back. She didn’t have to. She heard who was coming.

Maybe they wouldn’t see it was her. Maybe, just maybe, Rachael knew about Miller’s Pond.

She doodled the words “help me” in bubble letters, the first thing that came to her mind. Remembering last night gave her goose bumps.

Rachael and her friends were chatting and laughing and suddenly Rachael’s voice got louder. “Hey, isn’t that freakshow’s boyfriend over there? You know, that weirdo, what’s his name?”

Brea couldn’t help but look. She hadn’t noticed Adam’s truck in the visitor’s lot because she wasn’t looking for it. Now, it was plain as day.

He was leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette next to the “smoke-free campus” sign.

“Brea?” He dropped the butt in the grass and walked over to her. “I was looking for you. I need a favor.”

Just then, Jaxon pulled up in a brand new, black Audi A4.

“Holy shit,” she said.

Adam smiled. “That’s a little condemning, isn’t it?”

Jaxon got out of the car, puffed out his chest and clenched his fists. “What’re you doing here, loser?” He immediately went for Adam. “Ready, Brea?” He went to touch her shoulder and she moved. “What’s the matter?”

“You really don’t know?”

Adam reached for Brea’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

 “I…”

“Brea, get in the car,” Jaxon said.

“Don’t do it, Brea.”

 “Leave her alone, dirt bag.” Jaxon pushed Adam, hard, but barely moved him.

“That all you got, Abercrombie?” Adam bumped against Jaxon.

He was wiry strong, not built like Jaxon—but he was a better fighter. One hit knocked Jaxon on the ground.

Rachael ran over to help him.

Brea panicked and prayed for Adam not to get caught. “Adam, you have to get out of here.” If the school called the cops, her uncle would find out she was there, with Adam, and the fallout with her mother would be unimaginable. She pushed him toward the parking lot. “Go on, before it’s too late.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” He held out a hand and the look in his eyes was the most sincere she’d ever seen him. “Please come with me. It’s for Harmony.”

It was all she needed to hear.

* * * * *

Brea stood next to Adam in the showroom of Riley Monument, fidgeting nervously and waiting for the saleswoman to finish a quote for an obviously grieving widow. She shifted from one foot to the other, biting at the edge of her thumb and wondering what had happened to Jaxon.

“I’m not going to bite you, Brea.”

“I know, but you have to cut me some slack. You just assaulted my…” she paused, then said, “my friend.”

Adam smiled and looked at his knuckles. “Hurt, too.”

The clerk shot them a dirty look for laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Brea said quietly.

The widows crying got louder.

Adam tugged her sleeve and she jumped.

“Whoa, easy girl.” He backed away, hands up and pointed at a black, granite headstone in the next aisle. “I was just going to ask you what you thought about that one.”

She flipped the tag over. “It’s two thousand dollars, Adam.”

It was going to take a long time to pay that off on a part-time mechanic’s salary.

“It’s nothing compared to the funeral.” He took a credit card out of his wallet.

“Speaking of, have you heard from Charity?”

“I went by to check in on her, but she wasn’t there. The place was unlocked, which is unusual, but I saw what she’s been up to. She’s getting worse.”

“She’s been getting worse. Last time I was there she taped over every hole and crack with duct tape to hide from ‘the cameras.’”

“I took this for you.” He held out a small, raggedy teddy bear, Harmony’s favorite, that she slept with all her life.

Brea held it up to her face and breathed in its scent. It smelled like Harmony.

 “I sleep on her pillow just to smell her. It smells more like me now than anything, but I won’t wash it.” He took her hand and held it to his chest. “You know, I feel her when I’m with you.”

She closed her eyes and let him kiss her. “Oh, Oh my God. I’m sorry…I…I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I’m so sorry.”

He pulled her back and kissed her again. “Don’t be.”

Her heart was pounding and she almost screamed when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. “What the...?” She opened the phone. “Hello?” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.

“Where are you?” Jaxon’s tone hinted irritation.

“What do you want, Jaxon?”

“An explanation for starters.”

“Maybe you should ask Rachael or Pete. Maybe they can clear it up for you.”

“Rachael? That whole thing is over. It’s been over. We need to talk. Is this about what happened last night?”

“What happened was a mistake.”

Adam slipped a hand around Brea’s waist and kissed her neck. Brea held the phone away so Jaxon wouldn’t hear what was going on.

“Brea, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I have to go.” The only sounds were the background noises that let her know he hadn’t hung up. “Hello, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

The sales clerk walked over.

“Jaxon, I really have to go.” She hung up and refused to answer when he called right back.

Adam took a long look at the black, granite headstone that was his first choice. “So, this one? You agree?”

 “Adam, I have to go back.”

The clerk tugged the bottom of her navy blue blazer, obviously uncomfortable. “Should I come back in a minute?”

“No, it’s fine. Go back to what, to him? He doesn’t get you, Brea. What happened to Harmony, what you’re dealing with—what
we’re
dealing with—makes us different in a way that he can’t understand.”

“I really should…” The clerk started to back away and Adam held his hand up.

“Just a minute, I swear.”

“I’m not going back to him. I fought with my mother and I bolted on her last night. I have to show up or she’ll put an A.P.B. out on me. Will you take me back, please?”

He nodded. “Just let me do the order and I’ll take you wherever you want to go, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the truck.”

She waited low in the passenger’s seat where no one would see her and watched Adam sign the credit card slip for the clerk. She fixed her hair in the visor mirror and ran her tongue across her lips. They tasted like nicotine, like him; like a kiss that never should have happened, but that she couldn’t help wanting more of.

He opened the driver’s door and climbed in.

“Everything set?”

“ It’s going to take a week or two for the engraving.” He handed her a familiar piece of crumpled blue paper. She unfolded it and read the short poem. “It’s hers. She wrote it. I’m having them engrave it.”

“I liked this one.” She reached across the center console, took a Newport out of the pack in his shirt pocket, and pushed in the dashboard lighter. “For Harmony,” she said saluting with it.

“Since when do you smoke?”

She lit it and took her first drag. “Since now.” A few long puffs and she flicked the cherry out the window.

“I think I like this bad girl thing you’ve got going on.”

She couldn’t help thinking about what he felt like compared to Jaxon.  “I think I do, too.” She crushed the cigarette out in the overfull ashtray and used the hand sanitizer stuffed in the door.

The clean scent filled the truck. “That was Harmony’s. She hated the smell of a cigarette on her hands.”

“I figured.”

She waited until they were a block away from her house and told him to pull over.

“What?”

“Pull over,
please
. Here.” She pointed at the curb. “I can walk the rest of the way. If my mother sees your truck she’ll shit.”

“She knows who I am?”

“No, but your truck is enough for her to hate you.” She climbed down on to the running board and lingered, collecting her things.

Adam watched, longingly. “I miss Harmony. I need you to know that.”

She smiled. “And that might be the biggest thing we have in common.”

26
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