Fury (31 page)

Drea looked at Em through sad eyes. For the first time in her life, Em felt truly small.

“Really?” Drea squeaked out. “Really? That’s how you think the world should work? That’s why you think Sasha jumped off the Piss Pass? Because of Chase fucking Singer? No.
She jumped off the Piss Pass because she was sad and lonely and deeply depressed. And I didn’t know.” Drea’s voice got higher and higher; she was talking so fast Em could barely make out her words. “I didn’t know,” she repeated. Em could see she was determined not to cry.

“I’m sure you—”

“You don’t know anything, Emily Winters. All you know is your own little world and your own little life. But listen. The Furies aren’t doing anything good. I don’t
want
them to do anything other than disappear. Because what happens when
I
make a mistake? Who decides my fate? Me. Or at least the people around me. Not some otherworldly demon-goddess chicks hell-bent on destruction. They can’t feel remorse, do you know that?”

“But what about—what about when they make a mistake?” Em realized she was gripping her Coke can like a vise.

Drea let out a dry laugh that sounded almost like a cough. “They’ve been around for centuries—and yet I’m sure they don’t think they’ve made a single mistake.” The greenish light played across her face.

“But how do they choose?” Em persisted. “And how do they know when someone’s done something bad? What
counts
?” She wanted to say:
What I did wasn’t nearly as bad as what Chase did
, but she bit back the words.

Drea shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Em squeaked.

Drea leaned over and grabbed a book from under the bench. She handed it to Em. “Look, there’s a lot I don’t know. Here’s what I do know. The Furies are after you. The red orchid is like their marker. It says so in there.” She pointed to the ancient-looking book in Em’s hand.

“And they can look like people.” Em said it more as a statement than a question.

“They can assume human form, yes,” Drea said. “When they’re exacting revenge. When they’re stalking someone.”

“Like me,” Em said.

“Like you,” Drea echoed matter-of-factly.

Em gulped down the rest of the soda. “So what should I do?”

“Take these,” Drea said, reaching over and placing a pile of newsprint onto Em’s lap. “And start your reading. These are stories from all over the world that I think have some connection to the Furies.”

Em threw her head against the back of the padded chair. “How is reading going to help me go to sleep without one eye open?”

“You can’t fight something if you don’t understand it.” Drea gave Em another withering look. “Jeez. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Em blushed. “Sorry that I’m not some junior-wizard-Hermione-on-crack.”

This was enough to make them both smile, even slightly.

“Just read up, Winters.” Winters. It made her think of Chase. Em took the books and printouts silently and tucked them carefully into her bag.

She didn’t even wait until she was off Drea’s street before pulling over, digging the biggest book out of her bag, and opening it up. Her head was spinning. Furies. Revenge-seeking spirits? This was crazy. Even if they did exist, she didn’t think the biggest book in the world could explain why they’d choose to appear in Ascension, Maine—when the world was full of terrible people doing terrible things. Why would they choose to punish a bunch of high school kids? She flipped to the index and scanned it:
Alcohol . . . Alecto . . . Animal embodiments . . . Daemons . . . Erinyes . . . Familiars . . . Greek origins . . . Megaera . . . Seeds . . . Serpents . . . Tisiphone . . .
She didn’t even know what half of these words meant. The text swam in front of her and her head started to throb.

She slammed the book shut. It would have to wait until she got home.

“Lots of homework!” Em called to her mom as soon as she walked in the door. Her mom, who worked half days on Thursdays, seemed to be looking at her strangely—like she knew something Em didn’t know—but Em brushed it off as paranoia until she climbed the stairs to her room. Sitting on the floor just outside her bedroom door was a bouquet of daisies and a huge bar of dark chocolate.

“JD dropped those off for you,” Em’s mom said from halfway up the stairs. Em turned. Her mom was looking at her with a half smile.

“Mom, it’s nothing,” Em said. But she couldn’t hide her own grin, either. She took the flowers and chocolate into her room and slammed the door, giving the bouquet a closer look as soon as she was alone. There was a note taped to the chocolate.

I should have been a better listener,
the note read.
I just want to make you happy. Always. JD.

Em’s stomach was fluttering now, but not out of fear. She ran to her window and opened it, letting in a cold blast of air that felt nice against her blazing cheeks. She shook the string that ran between hers and JD’s windows; there were bells attached to both sides, an ancient method of communication that they’d devised in third grade. She was relieved to see the string, which had been used only rarely since they’d entered high school (and gotten cell phones), was still intact.

JD’s silhouette passed in front of his window, and she watched him lift his blind and then his window.

“Want to go to the pep rally with me later?” she shouted into the cold evening, her breath getting caught in the wind between their houses.

“You’ll be seen with this guy in public?” JD pointed to himself, eyebrows askew. He was wearing a sweatshirt with
a picture of a deer emblazoned across the chest and the word
MAINE
right above it.

“I would love to be seen with that guy in public!” Em yelled back. “I love deer. Bring your fedora.”

“I’ll bring you one too,” JD said.
“À bientôt, escargot!”

Em laughed. She loved that JD had picked up the expression from her.
“À bientôt, escargot!”

JD was smiling like a kid as he closed his window, and Em just knew.

She knew, suddenly and without question, that JD loved her. In that way. In the way that her dad loved her mom. In a way that was real. She felt weightless. Despite all these disasters—the Zach-Gabby lust triangle, Sasha and Chase, the Furies—she knew she could count on JD, that he would accept her for who she was. That he would listen. That he saw her. She recalled that night on the couch at his house, and the moments on the bridge on New Year’s Eve. Right now she wanted nothing more than to be close to him.

Always. JD.
He was exactly right. It had always been him. Like the string between their windows, their connection was unbreakable.

Em was in love with JD.

Every nerve in Em’s body buzzed as she prepped for the pep rally. Despite all the horrible things happening around her, she felt electrified—so much so that she seriously thought if she touched a TV, it might turn on, or short-circuit.

Her thoughts were a flip book, bouncing back and forth between the Furies and JD. She was getting ready for a date with the boy she’d known since they were in diapers. That’s what it was, right? A date? The thought made her breath come faster. Would they kiss tonight? By the bonfire, faces lit by shifting flames?

But alongside that image came a more disturbing one: Ali’s monstrous eyes and face, shining ghoulishly the way people did when they held flashlights up to their chins to tell campfire ghost stories. Em shuddered and flipped on the bright orange
reading lamp by her bed, even though the overhead was already on, as well as the vanity bulbs around her mirror. She’d had enough of dark corners.

When she opened her closet, she did so with a bang, as if to rustle out any lurkers. She batted at the hanging dresses, willing Ali—or one of her equally creepy cousins—to emerge. All was quiet. The closet smelled, as usual, like a combination of cedar and laundry detergent. Em breathed a sigh of relief, but it was marred by the realization that not seeing Ali in her closet only meant she’d see her somewhere else.

Pushing the thought from her mind, she pulled out her favorite pair of well-worn, dark-blue Levis and a white, long-sleeved shirt. She paired it with a nubby gray sweater, which she loved because of its enormous pockets. She ran a brush through her hair and arranged it into a low, messy bun. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Not for JD.

That was the whole point—JD didn’t care what she wore, what she looked like, what she said. Or rather, he cared, but he saw past that stuff. She got the feeling that to JD, she was just
Em
.

She liked that.

Her phone rang shrilly. The musical tone pierced the air suddenly, causing Em to jump and let out a small shriek. She exhaled when she saw it was just Gabby. Jesus. She was on edge tonight.

“Hi,” she said, catching her breath. “You scared me. I’m getting ready for the rally and—” Em broke off when she realized that Gabby was crying. Sobbing, actually.

“Gabs? What’s wrong?” She looked out her window instinctively. But her yard was empty. The moon was low, casting silvery-dark shadows onto the lingering crust of snow.

“I can’t—Em—come get me—he hit me—we had a fight—” Gabby was hysterical, speaking in fractured sentences punctuated by sobs.

“Wait, Gabs, what?” Suddenly, Em felt very alert. “Who hit you?”

“Zach . . .” As soon as Gabby spoke the name, another sob transformed her voice, making her words inaudible for a moment. Then she blubbered: “He wanted to talk. I know I shouldn’t have gone, but—” Her words were swallowed by another sob. “We had a fight and he . . . I can’t believe this is happening. I’m here alone.” Gabby was wailing now, her pitch getting higher and higher.

Em’s blood was pounding in her ears.
Zach hit Gabby—tiny, beautiful Gabby. Oh my god.

I’m going to kill him.

She tried to sound calm. “Gabby. It’s okay. Please just tell me where you are.” As she spoke, Em clenched the phone between her shoulder and her ear, pulling on socks and searching frantically for her boots.

“I just can’t believe this is happening,” Gabby said again.

“I’m coming to get you, don’t worry.” Boots on, Em started another mad search for her keys. She’d been using her mom’s Toyota since her car was in the shop
again
, getting its brake lines repaired.

“I just jumped out of his car. I started walking . . . I’m at—I’m at the new mall. I needed to get inside.” Another sob. “I’m so cold.”

“Okay, Gabby? Listen to me. Just stay there.” Keys, keys, keys. Where the fuck had she put them? “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay put, okay?”

“Okay.”
Sniffle.
“Okay.”

“I’m coming, Gabby.” Em hung up and at last located her missing keys, which were on the windowsill, where she’d left them after talking to JD. Oh god. JD. She dialed his number.

“Yes, madame?” JD’s voice had an excited lilt that made her heart soar.

“Hey. Hi. I’m so sorry, but . . .” She trailed off. Suddenly, she felt like she would cry.

“What’s up? Sorry about what?”

“It’s just . . . Gabby’s having a crisis. A real one. I have to go meet her.” Em hoped she didn’t sound as frantic as she felt.

“Oh. Okay.” JD sounded crestfallen.

“I’m not just, like, being weird,” Em said, stumbling over her words, not sure how much Gabby would want her to tell.
“I want to go with you tonight. And hopefully we’ll be there in time for the bonfire. I just have to go get her. She’s . . . she’s not even at home. She’s at the Behemoth.”

“The Behemoth? Why? Is she okay? Do you want me to go with you?” JD offered immediately. She did want him to come, but she didn’t know how Gabby would react to his presence.

“No. I mean, yes, but no. I think I should just go alone and make sure she’s okay. But thank you so much for offering.”

“Sure. And you think you’ll still come to the bonfire part?” His hopefulness made Em want to use the string as a tightrope and walk right into his room and his arms.

“Yes. I will. Promise. See you later, okay?”

“See you later. Call or text if you need anything.”

With that, she was careening down the stairs, grabbing her coat from the hook in the hallway, and calling to whichever parent was home and watching the news in the den: “I’m going to get Gabby and then to the pep rally! Home later!” She tried to make her tone sound as un-freaked-out as possible.

“Okay, hon,” her mom called back. “See you tonight.” And then, just as Em was pushing out the front door: “And be careful!”

The new mall was glowing with construction lights when Em drove up. She’d heard that lots of the work was being done at night—overtime based on the project’s lagging progress. It put
her at ease. At least Gabby hadn’t been here all alone for the past twenty minutes. She squinted into the floodlights, looking for Gabby’s blond curls, but saw nothing but glinting steel beams and orange cones. The air was full of a noisy, mechanized whine, the chugging sound of concrete mixers and cranes. The workers didn’t appear to notice her arrival.

She reached into her pocket for her phone to call Gabby, and as she did so, she remembered that she’d forgotten to put her snake-charm necklace back on after she changed.
Oh no.
Though she’d only had it for two days, the idea of leaving home without it made her heart beat to a panicked rhythm. She made a mental note to grab it on their way to the bonfire.

Great. Her old flip phone didn’t have service, no matter how high she held it out the window, even when she pulled farther into the gravel lot. Gabby’s Droid must have had better luck. Em was going to have to look for Gabby. Silently, she cursed her best friend.
Next time you’re dealing with an emotional disaster, please make sure to wait close to the exit, Gabs.
Then she thought about who was really to blame—Zach—and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. She finally understood what people meant when they said they were blind with rage. Next time she saw him (like, in half an hour at the bonfire, if he dared to show up—which she knew he would), she would have to restrain herself from spitting on him, or worse. But this wasn’t the time to think about revenge.