Expel (34 page)

Chapter 59

Trip the Lights Fantastic

The next day, the All State competition is strange to say the least.

I look into the rows of endless faces set up on the bleachers. I scour the crowd with an intense scrutiny before our final routine and see Logan and Gage staring back at me, my mother next to them with blue and white pom poms in her hand cheering from the stands.

Chloe and I have chosen to ignore the fact we almost offed each other last night and join forces to initiate what just might have been one of the most kick ass performances of both our acrobatic, heel stomping careers.

Ellis isn’t here—already I know that. Ellis might be suffering from a slight hairline fracture along his mandible, so Tad volunteered to escort him back to Paragon where his mother has a specialist flying in to assess whether or not they’ll need to wire shut his jaw. I imagine that might temper the
pot runs
for a good long while.

The music cues up and Chloe and I jump and shout in unison in our final foray as inseparable cheer peers. We start in on the pair’s section of the routine, smile our red painted grins at one another as if we were sisters. There’s something haunting, almost erotic about the deception we’re attempting to pass off on the judges. Chloe swings her hips in my direction, grabs my wrists and slides me down between her legs, and I pop right back up.

Don’t wreck this
, she says just before letting go.

It’s the basket toss that has her riled up. Everything else in the routine is gingerbread.

The girls form a tight circle, Chloe, Nat, Emily, Lexy, and a crystalline-eyed Michelle. Here I am in the arms of my enemies. Each one might benefit in the event I suffer an unfortunate accident—watch with great interest as my head explodes like a melon against the bright yellow floor.

I hesitate just a moment, long enough to see my mother standing, roaring for my triumph. I growl in the face of my adversaries as I bounce hard onto their interlocked hands.

I fly—soar up so high that hitting the ceiling of the gymnasium feels like a very real possibility. I peak just shy of grazing an enormous wood beam that stretches across the structure, point my toes hard as I lean over and touch them in perfect formation. Gravity comes like a thief, pulls me down with its lead laden arms. I have to trust those who wait for me—trust them to spare me from certain death.

I zero in on Gage and Logan as I plummet through the air. I want their perfect faces to be the last thing I see if I never come to.

A hard wallop commences as I land hard in the hands of the bitch squad. Chloe helps me to my feet with the same hand she tried to kill me with in the ethereal plane just hours before.

“If I didn’t hate you so much, I’d love you,” she blows into my ear.

The crowd erupts in a violent storm of cheers.

I nod into Chloe’s twisted line of thinking, acknowledging the fact this is the closest form of affection we could ever share.

We take our seats along the front row of the bleachers and wait for the judges to tally their final marks.

“You were freaking amazing!” Brielle pounces on me with a hug. “You’re an acrobat, a bird or something!”

She plunks down next to me and takes up my hand. “You know, Skyla, since you risked your neck for West, I’m going to campaign like crazy to get you nominated for prom queen.”

“I’m not a senior.” I rock into her.

“Junior prom.” She rocks back. “But I think that performance was enough to justify the throne for two years. Speaking of performances…” She gives me that I-know-what-you-did-in-the-boathouse look.

“It was an accident—case of mistaken identity.”

“I would say that I didn’t believe you,” she ticks her head to the side, “but I swear I’ve had that happen.” She gives a quick glance over her shoulder before leaning in. “So, how was it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” like, really, I wouldn’t know.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it? I get it. I mean you’re back with Gage, right?”

“I’m
just
with Gage. I’ll be with Gage forever.”

The microphone at the front of the gym gives a high-pitched wail before adjusting.

Marshall comes over and sits by my side.

“Ms. Messenger,” he says.

A representative from the judge’s panel steps up to the podium. A skinny blonde who chooses to wear a visor when we are neither outside nor in the land of sunshine, clears her throat.

“The Best in Choreography Trophy goes to,” she gives a dramatic pause. “West Paragon High!”

We exchange high fives, well, Brielle, Marshall and me. The only other team member who would offer me a high five is Ms. Richards and she’s all the way on the other end.

“The best all-around routine goes to, again, West Paragon High!” Her voice takes a serious upturn into Carly Foster territory.

Another round of high fives, this time Emily makes an effort to slap some skin with me.

“The winner of the basket toss, is, no surprise here,” she pauses to leer out into the crowd until she stumbles upon my face. “West Paragon High!”

Brielle and I jump up with excitement. From the top of the bleachers I can see Mom making her way down the stands, frantic and screaming like she’s just been knifed. She lunges at me with tears as I take in her warm embrace.

“And the winner of the All State competition goes to, let’s see if you can guess?” The judge teases. “West Paragon High. Come on down, girls!”

“Holy shit!” Chloe bounces up. “And we did all that with
Messenger
on our team?”

The rest of the girls run off to the front of the gym.

There’s a look of hurt in Mom’s eyes after Chloe fired off her latest and greatest barb.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “This is as good as her life gets. I have everything else.” I look up at Gage and Logan and give a private smile.

“Go get your trophy, Skyla.” Mom presses a kiss into my cheek. “You earned it.”

Brielle and I walk up together.

The crowd rises to their feet and erupts in riotous applause. Chloe glitters like a fire under the limelight of her victory.

Well done, Ms. Messenger.
Marshall nods in my direction
. Let’s see if we can put any of those highflying skills to use in the faction war. The Fems have already requested I equip you with more discs. They’ve dubbed them, victory coins.

I pull my lips into a bleak line. He knows full well I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that last disc.

From the corner of my eye a pale swollen man catches my attention. A tuft of flaming hair shoots in the air a good six inches. His face is greased with thick pancake paste, and an apple red grin is painted over his flesh.

A clown.

He sits alone in the corner at the top of the bleachers, vacuums out all of the joy from this moment.

Yes, Skyla
, Marshall tips his head into his chest.
You’ve managed to call him to you.
 

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath.

Worse yet?
Marshall darts his gaze around the vicinity.
Rumor has it—he’s brought friends.
 

Chapter 60

Home visit

I see them everywhere.

There was one on the ferry on the way back to Paragon even though Gage swore up and down he couldn’t see him. One at the edge of the parking lot at school today, and another in the woods behind my house that I spotted from the kitchen window. Clowns—tragically demonic jesters—horrific and scary, crying their silent bloody tears.

“What’s gotten into you, Skyla?” Mom hands me a dry dish to put away.

 
“Nothing, I say,” glancing over at Gage who sits at the table. He stayed over for dinner. Everything feels so wonderfully normal again with Gage.

He gives Drake pointers on his Algebra two assignment, looking back at me every now and again to flex a seductive smile. Gage is a genius, he could teach a pack of wild dogs to bark out the Pythagorean theorem to the tune of
Happy Birthday
if he wanted.

“You two mind picking up Mia and Melissa from their riding lessons?” Mom leans over the sink to get a better look up at the ever-darkening sky.

“Not at all,” I say. Marshall made it a point to personally invite me over tonight. Tomorrow is the island-wide garage sale that he’s instigated in which he singlehandedly transforms Paragon into a waste laden oasis of treasures and trinkets best forgotten. “You have your garbage ready?”

“Locked, loaded and ready to go,” her teeth light up like lanterns. They hold a bluish tinge, so perfectly bleached they’re almost translucent. I’ve never seen my mother so primped and polished. Ever since Demetri slithered onto the island, she’s coifed and groomed herself to an exaggerated level of physical perfection usually reserved for the pageant circuit and transvestites alike. I bet Tad doesn’t even notice how her hair shines, the extra bright smile, an entire bevy of low cut blouses that have accosted her wardrobe.

“Look who’s here?” Tad comes in with Dr. Booth in tow.

“Time for another ambush visit, already?” I quip, following them into the living room. Gage shoulders up to me for moral support as we take seats opposite Mom and Tad. Team Oliver verses team Landon. I’m tagging myself as an honorary Oliver. It warms me to think of taking Gage’s name.

“Skyla,” Dr. Booth nods into me. “I suppose this is unexpected in nature,” he gives a weary look in Tad’s direction.

“She’s jumpy and unpredictable,” Tad counters. “Catching them off guard is the only useful tactic with these flighty types.”

“It’s a surprise to me, too.” Mom gives an accusatory look.

Drake comes over and sits on the arm of the couch, a Landon family no-no. Figures. Drake can knock girls up, deform the furniture and no one says boo. What the hell did I ever do?

“Skyla,” Dr. Booth’s lips press white. “I hear there’s been some hypersexual behavior occurring as of late.”

Oh that.

“Dude—the night you tackled Gage during dinner was classic,” Drake spews through a mouth full of garlic bread. “Or when you got it on with his brother during spring break?” He nearly chokes getting that one out.

“Any other
classics
you’d like to belch out before I nail you with your own prenatal misgivings?” I challenge.

Personally, I want a do-over as far as spring break is concerned. I so don’t remember a damn thing Ezrina did—although I did get to spend two weeks with the ex-dead love of my life. That was pretty amazing. Who knew Logan could cook?

“Sounds like a disturbing habit we should put an end to right away,” Dr. Booth depresses his pen into his cheek. “One of the side effects of the medication we’ve started is spontaneous sexual outbursts.” He nods with a sincerity so alarmingly believable I almost want to applaud the Oscar worthy performance.

“So you’re saying,” Mom grips her chest in horror, “all these strange acts of a sexual nature were caused by some chemical imbalance?”

Imagine that, a pill that would create a carnal beast out of a human being. And she herself was the acting Pez dispenser of the teen Viagra.

“Yes,” Dr. Booth nods, “the trial is over. I’m pulling the medication immediately.”

Mom zips over to the kitchen and charitably relinquishes the amber bottle.

“What about the strange behavior?” Tad protests. “She hasn’t improved. She spent the last two weeks mocking me, curtsying whenever I walked into the room and calling me
my lord.
And, when I threatened to take away her liberties, she threw a butcher knife, that, by the way, I didn’t even realized we had, right at me. Missed my neck by inches!”

Go Ezrina.

And she totally didn’t miss. It was a warning.

Ezrina never misses.

“Skyla?” Mom’s jaw drops at the homicidal implications.

I’m sure she’s been busy the last couple weeks cavorting with Demetri. How could she possibly keep tabs on who was attempting to butcher who while she was out sacrificing wildlife with the man who murdered her husband?
And
, if I could have voted which of my mother’s husbands Demetri was going to off, it for sure would not have been that one. God—I’m not even sure I would hate him if he had chosen Tad.

“I don’t know what the heck he’s talking about,” I amp up my defenses. “But, I
have
been feeling really weird the past two weeks. Everything was sort of grey and fuzzy. It must have been the medication.”

“I hate to be rude,” Mom checks her watch. “But I’ve gotta run. I told Demetri I’d help him tag his items.”

Tag his items? If that doesn’t sound outright sexual in nature, I don’t know what does.

“You should go with her,” I shoot Tad a curt look for being such an imbecile.

“It’s cold out.” He crosses his arms and burrows deeper into the sofa. “I don’t want to go.”

Great.

“Gage and I have a half hour or so before we need to pick up the girls, we can help,” I offer. The last place on the planet I want to be tonight is the Fem funhouse, but if it keeps my mother’s visit chaste, it’ll be well worth the effort.

Gage widens his eyes. He has a date planned for us tonight. A total surprise for me, and I love it in theory, but I’m pretty sure my mother is about to tag more than Demetri’s miscellaneous clutter, so unfortunately, we might have to include the two of them in the grand design for the next few hours.
    
  

“Nope,” I won’t hear of it.” Mom winks over at Gage as if she’s in on his true intentions.

Perfect. Now I’m going to expect some secret engagement party, where Chloe does something freaky like pull all of our doppelgangers out of the Realm of Possibilities and confuses the hell out of the living and the dead.

Dr. Booth rises and says goodnight. Gage and I follow him to the door.

He waits until we’re safely outside before turning to the two of us.

“There’s an emergency faction meeting tonight at Nicholas Haver’s home, ten o’clock sharp.” He looks over at us with an insolence he’s never exhibited before. “Heads up. The two of you are in a hell of a lot of trouble.”

We watch as he stomps down the porch.

I can’t think of a thing that Gage and I have done wrong—unless of course they’re pissed about that whole faction war thing.

Like the fact we keep losing.

A lot.