Deadly Offer (14 page)

She went to bed early. There was nothing else to do.

In her dreams a computer tapped out her death knell. Unseen fingers endlessly typed the closing sentences on Althea. The entire world was clicking, tapping, typing. Althea is over, Althea is over, Althea is over.

Althea woke up, cheeks wet with tears, hugging the pillows, because there were no warm bodies to hug and. never would be again.

The vampire continued to tap his fingernails on the foot of her bed. The hollow iron frame vibrated with each click. His fingernails were tarnished and yellowy, like teeth that needed brushing. Althea, shivering beneath a stack of heavy wool blankets, wept again.

“You don’t have to be alone,” said the vampire. His voice was rich and contented, like cream soup.

Or blood.

She looked at him through her tears. He was not wearing his cape. He seemed almost not there; he was mostly voice and fingernails.

Where’s the rest of him? she thought, swiveling eyes and head like an owl, afraid to turn her back, but needing to locate the enemy.

“I’m sorry you had to suffer today,” said the vampire. “Sometimes lessons are painful to learn. Have you learned your lesson, Althea?” the vampire asked.

She held the pillow in the air between them.

“You may have it back now, if you’re a good girl,” said the vampire.

“Have what back?” said Althea weakly.

His voice whispered through the room like a cat purring. “Popularity,” he breathed. The cape appeared. It leaned past the vampire’s shoulders toward Althea and this time its edges were velvet and rich.

“No,” she said. The velvet cape settled on the edge of the bed and tucked its edges around her feet to warm them.

“You must keep Becky,” the vampire said. “You need a friend. Becky will be your friend.”

Oh, to have Becky back as a friend! To have the phone ring, laughter ring, a friend’s voice ring!

Althea buried her face in the pillow.

“You give me Constance,” said the vampire. His cape was as furry as a teddy bear.
Wear me,
it said silently.

Althea pulled her feet up closer to her chest and tucked herself into a little round ball, as far from the cape and the vampire as she could get.

“Constance,” repeated the vampire.

Give him Constance? Who was perfect? Who was right for Michael? Who with Michael made a couple she loved?

“You’ll make the basketball squad,” said the vampire. “You’ll be busy and happy, surrounded by friends.”

Constance?

“Ryan will be waiting for you after tryouts,” said the vampire. “He feels terrible that he was rude today. He cannot imagine why he acted like that.”

She had no lights turned on, and yet the bedroom had a strange sheen. Pink walls, peach carpet, quilted chair—all glowed.

“A new captain will have to be elected,” whispered the vampire.

She trembled.

“The most popular girl is always chosen captain,” whispered the vampire. “You will be the most popular girl.”

She stared at the lace edge on the pillowcase. How pretty it was. How fragile and how feminine. She touched it with her fingers. Her cruel scarlet talons nearly tore the lace. She pushed them back under the blankets. I want ordinary fingernails, she thought. Soft, rounded, pink nails.

“I would never make another request after Constance,” said the vampire silkily. “You need only bring Constance into my dark path.”

She would be popular again. A cheerleader again. Have friends again. Have Ryan again.

“Only Constance?” she whispered.

Their voices matched: airy and bodiless. Light and frothy. As if they were talking of nothing. Just feathers and dust.

“Constance,” he repeated. The vampire smiled. She found that she had become accustomed to his smile. There was a certain symmetry to the way his teeth lined up that other smiles did not share.

“Never anybody else?” she whispered.

“Of course not,” he assured her.

She laughed bitterly. “You’re lying.”

He smiled. His teeth chattered. They pecked at his lip like the beaks of birds. The teeth clicked up and down; his fingernails clicked up and down; and the typing typed out,
Second chance, Althea, second chance! Just Constance, just Constance!

“I won’t be back again,” said the vampire. The cape slithered off her bed. “Either you take this chance, Althea, or you do not. Either you are popular again, or you are not. It’s quite simple, really.” The cape tightened around the vampire like a cocoon shutting in a dying butterfly. “Now get a good night’s sleep, Althea. Tomorrow is an important day for you.”

She shut her eyes.

When she opened them he was gone.

She was alone.

And that was the decision, really. Not Constance. But whether she could stand to be alone for the rest of her high school life. Unloved. Unwanted. Unspoken to.

H
ER CAR STILL WOULD
not start. But she had scarcely reached the sidewalk when Kimmie-Jo honked a horn, pulled over, and shrieked, “Althea! You can’t walk in this weather! Get in! Why didn’t you call me and say you needed a ride? You silly. You’ll catch cold.”

Althea rode to school with the captain of the cheerleading squad. Kimmie-Jo talked of boys and cheers, got the best parking space in the student lot, and danced alongside Althea as they entered the lobby. “I just love it that you’re going with Ryan,” she confided. “You and Ryan, and Constance and Michael, you’re such adorable couples! The whole school is crazy jealous of you, Althea.”

Some girl changing the Artwork of the Week shouted, “Hi, Althea!”

Some boy pushing a cart of audiovisual equipment said shyly, “Hi, Althea, how are you?”

Becky bounded over. “Althea, are you ever going to forgive me?” she said.

“For what?” said Althea, smiling. How pretty Becky was! How cute and bunny-rabbitlike she looked, her nose twitching in anxiety.

“For being nasty yesterday,” said Becky, hanging her head. The pony tail fell sadly on her shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me! I sat there at Pizza Hut and felt like the creep of the century. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” said Althea. “We’re friends.”
You need a friend. Becky will be your friend.
I have her for good, thought Althea. She will always be my friend.

Becky said, “Ryan won’t see you till fifth period, so he asked me to give you this note.” It was a sheet of notebook paper folded six times, until it was a fat cube the size of a thumb.
Yesterday was out of control. Sorry. Really, really, really sorry. Are we still friends? Love, Ryan.

Kimmie-Jo said, “I love notes. I see Ryan next period, Althea. I’ll take the answer to him. No fair folding it up so I can’t read it.”

They all laughed. Althea wrote with a great flourish,
Friends forever. Love, Althea.

School flew by. Never had those fifty-minute class hours seemed so short. Never had lunch been such fun.

Ryan sat with her, of course. Settled down very close, so her wool skirt rubbed against his corduroy pants. His bright eyes were only inches from hers. He said, “I didn’t know how much fun it is to be with you till yesterday when you weren’t around.” He blushed. He said, “I’m not letting that happen again.”

Outside, the sky lightened and turned blue again, and the sun actually shone, melting the snow that had sealed the skylights. Yellow and gold filtered through. Ryan asked her to go with him to the Winter Formal.

Nobody had ever asked her to a dance before.

Michael said, “Constance and I are going, of course. Let’s the four of us go together. Would you like to do that, Althea? Maybe we could have dinner out before the dance. Constance loves elegant restaurants. She’ll go anywhere if she can get really dressed up.”

Two tables away, Jennie sat alone, pushing macaroni around on a lunch plate until it turned cold. Celeste tried to sit with old friends, but they scorned her, elbowed her away, and Celeste, sad and limp, sat with Jennie after all.

Althea averted her eyes.

After school, at her locker, Ryan, Michael, Dusty, Kimmie-Jo, and Becky gathered. There was a heavy argument going because some people did not want pizza today, but were in hamburger moods. There was even a holdout for fried chicken.

“You decide, Althea,” said Michael. “We’ll follow you.”

The boys stood on each side of her. Althea drank in their good looks, their smiles, their attention. My locker, she thought. My locker is where the best people meet.

Ordinary kids slipped by, pressed against the far wall, so as not to disturb the popular crowd. Some kept their heads low, to avoid notice; others were brave and stared longingly at Althea and her friends.

Celeste was in the first group.

Celeste paused to rest, leaning against the wall. She did not look as if she remembered the cheerleading crowd, and they certainly took no notice of her. Celeste fastened her eyes at the far end of the hall, planning the long journey. She picked up first one foot, and then the other, trudging on.

Constance flew toward them.

Everybody shouted, “You’re late, Constance! Where’ve you been?”

Michael held out his right hand and still running, she clasped it, so that they both swung a few feet, till her momentum was stopped. Then they smiled secrets into each other’s eyes and laughed a little.

Althea’s hands turned as cold as deep water in ancient lakes.

“Hi, Althea,” said Constance, smiling warmly. “We missed you yesterday.”

Althea’s nerves felt as if somebody were stitching needles through her skin. “Thank you,” she said.

“You know what?” said Constance.

“What?” said Althea. She was out of breath. Her lungs had shrunk. She could not squeeze another molecule of air into them.

Constance put her arm around Althea’s waist and gave her a slight squeeze. “You add so much when you’re around, Althea.”

Somehow the four of them were walking together in one straight line: Michael, Constance, Althea, Ryan. Althea felt like royalty. As the foursome passed, heads turned. People stopped talking, turning, or lockering, and feasted their eyes on the two couples.

Constance said, “Do we have to join everybody else again today? Sometimes I get so tired of the crowd. Let’s go somewhere, just the four of us, and get to know one another better.” She smiled, just for Althea.

It’s me she wants to get to know better, thought Althea. She wants us to be friends.

“I’m still waiting to be allowed to use my telescope in your tower room, Althea,” said Ryan. His hand left hers briefly to touch her hair. He seemed almost in possession, as if it were his hair now.

They reached Michael’s car. Michael and Constance sat in front. Ryan and Althea sat in back.

“Well?” said Michael, turning the key in the ignition. “Where are we going? Up to you, Althea. What’s your command?”

Don’t do it, she said to herself. Remember Jennie and Celeste. How pitiful they are. Don’t do that to Constance! She’s a nice person. She wants to be your friend. Don’t do it to Michael! He loves Constance. There won’t be a Constance left to love if you bring her into the dark path.

But I have to, she thought. I can’t have a life as lonely and worthless and dreary as last night. As the first year of high school. Nobody deserves that kind of life! I deserve friends and happiness!

“I have to make a turn at that red light,” said Michael, tossing a smile back over the seat to Althea. “So you have to issue instructions before then.”

If you give him Constance, you’ll have betrayed a third friend!

If you don’t give him Constance, you’ll never have a friend again.

Althea hung tightly to Ryan’s hand. She said, “Let’s go over to my house. There’s plenty to do there. Plenty to eat.”

“And tower rooms to go in,” said Ryan, delighted, squeezing her hand back.

“And tower rooms to go in,” said Althea.

Constance clapped her hands. “I missed your party,” she said, “and I felt so left out. Do I get to go up in the tower, too?”

“Of course,” said Althea.

T
HE VALLEY ROAD WAS
as low and empty as a back alley. No cars except Michael’s passed through its darkness. “It’s always winter on this part of the road,” said Constance uneasily. She shifted position in the front seat, playing with the shoulder belt.

“What’s the matter?” Michael asked her.

“It’s spooky.” Constance was shivering. “Aren’t you ever afraid, Althea?” Constance pulled her coat around herself and buttoned the toggles.

She feels it, thought Althea. The dark path has already touched her, and somehow she knows something is wrong. She’s trying to protect herself.

Constance said, “The hemlocks circle the house, don’t they? Like a castle gate.” Constance tried to laugh. She pointed toward the outer edge of hemlocks, which formed a dark needled tower of their own.

“Double towers,” said Ryan, grinning. Nothing had touched him. There was nothing out there but boring old trees.

“The tips of the hemlocks are waving at me,” said Constance.

Michael said, “Constance, you’re not usually so poetic. Next you’re going to tell me you see ghosts flitting in the shadows.” The boys laughed.

Constance said, “I do see something.”

“It’s the wind,” said Ryan.

“If I lived here,” said Constance, “I’d be afraid of everything always.”

They were half a block from the blackness of loneliness that would enclose Constance forever once she left this bright and shining car.

Constance won’t be the last one, thought Althea. The vampire was lying. He’ll have to have more. I’ll have to give them to him. That will be my life. Choosing his next victim. That will be who I am. The vampire’s procurer.

She sank back into Ryan’s arms, trying to find comfort.

But there was no hiding from the decisions she had made.

All I wanted was to be a cheerleader! To have the phone ring! To have friends! Was that so terrible? Was I so wrong?

They were only a car length away from her driveway. The cruel green hemlocks had reached down to meet them. The branches seemed to curl their tips in greeting.

It
was
terrible, she thought. I
was
wrong.