Envy (Fury) (31 page)

At lunch, sitting under the glaring winter light that came
through the skylights in the Gazebo, Em watched as Gabby carefully dressed her Greek salad, picked out a wilted piece of lettuce, and popped an olive into her mouth. It was like nothing had changed.

But Gabby had almost died. They were sitting alone; everyone else was still buying their lunches or trickling in from class.

Gabby cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you. Again. We’ve barely had a moment alone since . . . this happened,” Gabby said, brushing her fingers lightly against her ruddy cheek.

“I know. . . . We kept getting interrupted by your adoring fans,” Em said with a gentle smile, referring to the steady stream of visitors and flower deliveries that had appeared at the hospital and then during Gabby’s afternoon of home convalescence the day before.

“That was so nice of everybody, wasn’t it?” Gabby shook her head in amazement. “But really, Em. Thank you. I know that you probably saved—you saved my life.” Gabby’s voice caught, and guilt swept over Em.

“Gabby, if I gotten there earlier—like I was supposed to—the reaction wouldn’t have been so advanced.” She hung her head, letting strands of her hair fall around her face. “I’m sorry that I was late, and that I didn’t get your texts. . . .”

“It’s okay, Em. We both know I’m lucky you got there at all.” She threw back her shoulders and addressed the next question to the whole table, which had begun to fill up as they’d been
talking. Lauren was feeding Nick french fries. Jenna produced a square of dark chocolate and presented it to Gabby as a get-well gift. “So, where are we going to pregame the dance?”

Just like that, Em knew the conversation was over. Gabby was back on. It was always a given that Gabs would coordinate both the pre- and post-dance partying. She always had.

Lauren and Fiona exchanged a quick glance.

“Skylar had said something about hanging out with Jess Marshall and those girls?” Lauren sounded tentative, and she was blinking a lot. “But, whatever. Like, whatever you want to do, Gabs.”

Gabby gave her best newscaster smile and cocked her head. “Jess? Sure! I love Jess. She is such a sweetheart.”

“I call no DD,” Sean announced from his seat at the far end of the table. “I drove to homecoming.”

“Me too,” Lauren said. “You may remember that night, Fiona, as the one where you suggested going swimming even though it was mid-October?”

Suddenly Em had a burst of inspiration: the dance. That was where she would confess her feelings to JD. It was the perfect way to assuage any of JD’s unfounded fears about her being embarrassed by him. Screw the Furies and their threats. They hadn’t kept up their end of the bargain—to leave her alone—so she wasn’t going to abide by the terms either. She wasn’t going to let them manipulate her with the constant fear of retaliation.
She was going to tell JD everything. She would recapture the remnants of her former life, reestablish her best-friendships, and reveal the truth to JD—broadcast it, even, in front of everyone.

Not only was she going to the dance, she was going to go all out. Furies be damned. Instantly, she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

“I’ll drive,” Fiona was saying, pushing her glasses up her nose. “If I can borrow those blue suede Steve Madden heels, Em.”

“Sure, Fi. I’m not wearing them,” Em said.

“Which reminds me,” Gabby said. “What
are
you wearing, Em? We’ve barely discussed it.”

“Oh, I was thinking I would just wear my black wrap dress,” Em answered. An old standby.

“Um, no,” Gabby said emphatically. “You’re too pale for black. You’ll look vampy. How about that light purple one? The one with the sheer-ish skirt?”

Em smiled. “That’s a great idea, Gabs. And I was thinking of getting my nails done after school,” she added, spur of the moment.

“Boo, I can’t.” Gabby pouted. “I promised my mom I’d come straight home—it’s like she thinks I’m going to break or something.” Then Gabby beamed a smile at Em. “You should go, though. No offense, but you really need it.”

“None taken,” Em laughed. The lightness was still there. She
would
get her life back.

•  •  •

After school she drove to the strip mall—the one with Pete’s Pizza and Princess Nails—to get a manicure. Back when Em’s mom was working superlong hours (before she had seniority), she used to take Em here on her days off for a coat of nice, sensible pale pink polish. A special treat. “Taking care of yourself is the first step in taking care of others,” her mom used to say. That’s what Em was going to do today.

But just as she approached the salon door, Em froze.

There, in the window, was Ty. She was sitting with her nails under the dryer, her black-brown hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Em still couldn’t believe that she’d dyed it, couldn’t believe she’d gotten rid of that beautiful red mane.

They caught each other’s eyes through the window. The afternoon sun burned orange in the winter sky, casting its reflection on the window, making it seem as though Ty was appearing beyond a thin sheet of flame. Ty raised her eyebrows and smiled, as if to say,
Imagine meeting
you
here!
Em curled her lip and watched Ty gathering her things.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked as soon as Ty walked out the door, trying to sound menacing. But she knew she sounded afraid.

As usual, Ty was underdressed for the frigid early spring air, wearing a loose T-shirt, jeans, and flats without socks.

Ty smiled. “Just getting my nails done. A good manicure
always brings me so much comfort, you know? It’s like a fresh start!” Her voice was breezy, and it seemed to snake through the air, around her neck, tickling the hairs behind Em’s ears.

“Did you know I was planning to come here?” Em’s voice became small and shaky.

“I know one thing—you’re a life saver,” Ty said. “Thank god you were able to come to Gabby’s aid.” At the mention of Gabby’s name, Em thought she heard those same high-pitched giggles drifting through the air. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining them or really hearing them. “Things may not go so well for your other pals,” Ty added in an offhand way.

“My other
pals
? What’s that supposed to mean?” Em choked out.

Ty blew on her nails daintily and avoided answering Em’s question directly. “Spring is my favorite season. Did you know that?”

The tone of Ty’s voice confirmed Em’s suspicions. The Furies were planning something. They were baiting Em, screwing with her. Well, she wouldn’t bite. Not now.

“Get away from here,” she spat, stepping closer so she and Ty were just a few inches apart. “Leave. Us. Alone.”

Ty raised an eyebrow but didn’t step back. “You know, maybe JD would like you better if you learned how to control your temper.”

Immediately she figured out Ty’s strategy: bring up JD in order to remind Em what was at stake—her love. Despite knowing
it was a ploy to enrage her, Ty’s words sent her spinning off the edge.

She lunged for Ty, the blackness inside her propelling her forward.

All of a sudden she found herself flattened, driven forcefully against the side of the brick building. It seemed as if Ty had barely moved. But she was very close now, practically whispering in Em’s ear.

“You want to know about those seeds?” Ty breathed. “You feel it, right? Moving inside of you—that anger, that smoky rage. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Em clamped her mouth shut, refusing to answer. But of course, yes, she knew.

Ty released her, examining her nails to make sure her polish hadn’t smudged. “Careful, Em. Remember that we aren’t so different, you and I.”

“Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. My. Life.” Em’s words were packed like dynamite. “If you don’t—I
swear
to you—I will extinguish you forever.”

“I can’t get out of your life, Em,” Ty said. “We’re bound together. Don’t you get it?” Then she stepped past Em, toward the setting sun. For a second she seemed to shimmer in front of the orange-red glare. Then Em blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Ty was gone, as though she’d just burned away. The sound of laughter, however, lingered.

Tonight was the night: Skylar’s surprise date with Pierce. He’d chat-messaged her—well, technically he had chat-messaged Gabby—a few times this week, and Skylar had played her part. She’d flirted with Pierce, planned their rendezvous, and reminded him that they should keep their feelings secret until the dance. She’d tried to play down “her” brush with death. The last thing Skylar needed was Pierce thinking that Gabby was some beautiful wounded bird or something.

There was enough of that going around at school. Skylar couldn’t believe Gabby’s luck—after missing
one
day of school, she’d come back as a survivor-celebrity! No one seemed to care about the rash on her face. On the contrary, Gabby’s health scare only cemented how much everyone loved her, how much
everyone missed her when she wasn’t around, how crucial her bubbly personality was to daily life at Ascension.

But tonight was Skylar’s chance to turn Pierce’s eyes her way, to have him all to herself. And though he was expecting Gabby to show up, not her, Skylar hoped—knew!—he would be glad in the end that she was the one in his arms.

There were several reasons for her logic. First of all, he hadn’t been
overly
effusive via chat. Maybe, now that he’d seen Gabby without her makeup on, he was more interested in being her friend than her boyfriend. Skylar hoped to provide some contrast—a perfectly put-together, perky prize.

Secondly, she was certain that once Pierce had a second to absorb, without any outside distractions, how much Skylar has grown and changed—like a butterfly, like a swan—he would change his mind. Tonight Pierce Travers would see that Skylar had it all. Everything Gabby had, and more.

And plus, as a last resort, Skylar resolved to tell him that Gabby had sent her, to convey that she wasn’t interested, and that he should leave her alone. If he didn’t naturally see Gabby as out of the picture, she would shatter the illusion for him.

•  •  •

Lip gloss. Hair pinned half up with sparkly bobby pins. Light purple eye shadow to bring out the green in her eyes. Black jeans, a magenta boatneck shirt, a bluish scarf, her gray ankle boots. Eyelashes curled, brown mascara applied—it looked less
severe on blondes, Gabby had told her. Her legs were even freshly shaved, under her jeans. Not that she thought Pierce would touch them (tonight, at least), but because she’d been “getting ready” since three o’clock. Meg had helped, of course. And now every single tiny detail of her appearance was perfect. Or as close to perfect as Skylar would ever get.

“Lots of snow coming tonight,” Meg mused as Skylar checked her makeup in the car mirror one more time. Skylar hadn’t seen much of Meg over the last few days, not since the creepy incident at the pond. She didn’t really miss her that much. In fact, it was amazing how much she’d learned in so little time. She could take care of herself now.

Tonight Marty Dove and the news reports were predicting at least a foot of accumulation. It wasn’t rare for March in Maine, but it would be Skylar’s first blizzard since she’d moved to Ascension. She hoped it wouldn’t get too bad until after her tryst with Pierce. Although, walking outside together with snowflakes resting on their eyelashes and noses would be a romantic way to start their relationship. He’d told her once how much he loved being outside during nor’easters. Skylar couldn’t help but sigh out loud, thinking about it.

Meg gave Skylar a pep talk as she drove her to school in her maroon Lincoln. More of the same. How she just needed to show Pierce how awesome she was, blah blah blah. Skylar didn’t want to tell Meg she was only making things worse. Skylar was
ready to stop talking about it and just put this plan into action. She focused on the beautiful flakes of snow, watching as they smashed into the windshield and became drops of slush.

“So, should I wait for you out here?” Meg cocked her head as Skylar did some last-minute primping in the high school parking lot.

“Um, no,” Skylar said in an impulsive—and she hoped warranted—fit of confidence. “Pierce can give me a ride.”

“That’s the spirit,” Meg said, nodding as if she’d expected that answer. “Good luck, babes—you earned it.”

Skylar didn’t feel half as self-assured as she was making out to be, but she tried to psych herself up as she let herself in through the auditorium doors and made her way through the back hallway of the theater and into the library wing, which led to the cafeteria. Her boot heels made clacking sounds that bounced off the walls and windows in the empty, dark halls. It was fun to be in school all alone. She hummed a little bit, and her voice reverberated against the lockers and classroom doors.

In the cafeteria she’d expected more moonlight to be shining through the Gazebo’s skylight, but the glass overhead was already covered thickly with snow. It was dark and shadowy. Intimate. Pierce would have no choice but to fall for her. She grinned and spun in a circle, arms outstretched, on the freshly waxed linoleum. Her pink coat flared out around her. In the silence, despite the empty tables and benches, the curling posters, and the smell
of school lunch still lingering in the air, it was easy to imagine herself as reigning queen bee.

And then she heard them—rubber-soled steps squeaking faintly in the hallway. Good. So Pierce had found the door she’d told him about. Her heart beat faster; she reached up with both hands to bring the hood of her coat carefully over her curls. She knew that from afar, she looked a lot like Gabby, and she was going to use that to her advantage, to draw him in close before making the big reveal.

“Gabby?” His voice resounded in the empty room. She motioned him closer; he grinned in the easy, flirtatious way he was known for. “Hey there,” he said as he walked toward her. Even in the dark, she could see his strong frame, how his shoulders fit perfectly in his football jacket, the way his crew cut highlighted his strong jawline.

And then, when he was just an arm’s length away, Skylar pulled the hood away from her face and stepped into a small patch of moonlight that shone through the skylight.