Losing Faith (20 page)

I can tell he feels jilted by his sister. It makes sense, since she’s all he has.

A few seconds later, he regains the evenness to his voice. “That’s why I was so glad when the group started meeting at our house. I thought they’d help Reena sort out any delusions she had about God. Especially your sister. Even though I wasn’t allowed into the meetings, I could tell Faith stood up for herself and what she believed. I knew she’d be good for Reena.”

But was Reena good for my sister?
I couldn’t help but question it. Faith always thought she could help everybody. But how much had Reena changed Faith? “Do you think Reena could, um, hurt anybody?”

“Uh-uh. Not Ree.” He jerks his head to me. “Wait, you don’t think—”

“No,” I say. Even though I’m not completely convinced about anything at this point, his quick reaction does calm my suspicions a little. Reena might keep him at arm’s length when it comes to her little spiritual group, but otherwise they
seem pretty tight. Alis would know if his sister were some kind of bloodthirsty psychopath.

I shiver, and he must notice because he places his hands on both sides of my arms and rubs them.

His hands feel warm and nice, but I remember Tessa’s scowling face and suddenly feel determined not to think of him like that. “We should probably head back soon.”

He turns, slides his arm around me and pulls me close to him as we start back for the school. A millisecond later, he drops it. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean …”

I wonder what he
did
mean, because something about it felt more than just brotherly. “No, it’s okay,” I say. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets.

The crunching of the leaves under our feet is the only sound for a long time. But a comfort grows between us. After all he’s told me, I feel stupid about the one little lie I told him.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t know anyone in the Bertram Home.”

He glances over at me, then ahead to the path in front of us.

“I saw Reena downtown and followed her because I wanted to feel closer to Faith. I wasn’t going to talk to her, really I wasn’t, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. Then he looks at me. “I trust you,” he says. “I don’t
know quite why, but I feel like we can understand each other.”

He’s right. I know he is. And it feels so good, necessary even, to have someone who understands me right now. “You get where I’m at with my sister, then?”

He nods.

We get back to the school, and Alis says he’ll call me if he can, and suggests we meet on Monday when Reena’s working. He’ll walk me home from school.

While I watch him walk away, I consider my new social circle. Alis. Tessa.

Who’d have thought?

chapter
TWENTY-TWO

m
r. Poindexter’s Art room is more like an experimental color lab than an actual classroom. Rainbow paintings are slathered across every wall.

Tessa and I don’t share the intent of Art class or anything. She’s private about her creations. Now I realize she seats herself at the back between two empty desks because she’s so serious. I sit in the middle because I’m so not. I approach art like my poetry. I just kind of smush color on the page and if it looks like something recognizable by the end, yippee.

Because I can’t make sense of the angle I’m supposed to draw my still life at today, I play around with words instead.
First my name, then anything I can come up with to rhyme with it. One reason I’m thankful for my cheesy name: Brie, sea, tea, bee … the list goes on and on.

My mind wanders to Alis. Does anything rhyme with Alis? Hmm. Oh, wait. Malice.

Uh-oh.

Mr. Poindexter walks my way so I flip my paper and draw a big oval with a squiggly line through the center. It looks nothing like the artifact at the front of the class. Looks more like I’m in the third grade. But Poindexter doesn’t stop, not even a glance in my direction. I haven’t produced anything awe-inspiring so far this year. I’m sure he doesn’t expect that to change.

By the time the next bell rings, I’ve added a bit of color, but it still looks like something Celeste’s little brother could have drawn.

This thought makes me realize I still haven’t heard anything from Celeste. Not that I’m surprised after the way she acted at Starbucks. Tessa heads my way, so I quickly flip my drawing over and place my hand on top to hold it down.

“How was yours?” I ask.

She tilts her head with a half scowl, staring at my desk. I follow her eyes to the back of my paper.

“I knew it!” she says. “You’re hung up on the guy.”

I’d written my name and Alis’s about a million times, trying to come up with rhymes.

“It’s not what you think,” I start to say.

But she’s already gone.

The next day, I avoid Tessa for most of the morning. Of course, I’m also trying to steer clear of Amy, Dustin, and Steph, and it would be more than I could possibly expect to avoid them all.

I’m taking a shortcut past the library toward my history class when I catch sight of Dustin’s sandy-colored hair and red Stanford sweatshirt leaning against a wall near the library doors. I keep my eyes straight ahead, but hear a giggle from his direction. A giggle that’s not Amy’s.

Part of me wants to look and feel the satisfaction of seeing him cheating on her. But the other part of me wonders if I could be reading things wrong again. I decide I’d rather live in my bubble, think that maybe I’m not the only one Dustin’s ever been a jerk to, and move on.

That afternoon when I finally do run into Tessa, she wears a pink turtleneck under the black trench coat she takes off at her locker. Soft, baby, never-consider-using-a-four-letter-word pink.

“Nice shirt,” I say.

She shoots me a look, warning me not to say another word.

“So, this Alis guy is pretty cool,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean I like him.”

Her eyes don’t show the anger I expect. Instead, they light up. She’s almost as interested in my life these days as I am. “So what’d you talk about?”

“I wasn’t going to, but I told him the truth. About everything.”

“Huh.” She drops her backpack with a thud in front of her locker. “Was he pissed? Did he ditch you again?”

“No. He seemed to get it. I think he understands why I can’t just move on.”

She shoves her backpack inside and shuts the door, not bothering to extract any books.

“We mostly talked about Faith. And his sister. Just some weird stuff about their meetings and—”

“Weird stuff?” She grabs my books and throws them into my locker. Shuts the door and clicks my lock on. “Let’s go to Wendy’s. We have to talk about this.”

“But I’ve got English.”

She doesn’t even look back.

And the truth is, this is all I want to talk about anyway.

Wendy’s is deserted, so we sit in a corner where we can see the parking lot through the windows. She asks me questions
about my conversation with Alis, and I do my best to answer her. But because Alis trusted me, I only give her half truths about their family situation.

Tessa catches on that I’m being evasive. “Come on. What is it? You’re obviously into him.”

“Why am I obviously into him? I’m not in the space where I need any of that crap right now.” The more I talk like this, the more I’m convincing myself. “Will you get off me about it already?”

“‘Not in that space.’
Phtf
. It’s written all over your face, Brie. You want him.”

“I don’t
want
him.” But my face heats up at the words. Well,
maybe
I don’t.

“You’re shittin’ me.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “You’re shittin’ yourself.”

The pink obviously isn’t working for her. “You know what? This is not a good time. Who cares if I want him, or like him, or even just think he’s cute.” My face feels like it’s three hundred degrees, but I grip my chair and go on. “My sister just died. Can’t you get that? I have plenty of reasons to not be in the right space, for your information.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while. At least thirty seconds. Then, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say. I think it’s over, that she’s finally going to
leave it alone, since that’s what any normal person would do.

Her lip twitches into a smirk. “Fine. But if you’re going to be friends with this guy, it’s time I got to meet him.”

I nod, thinking that’s it, and that’s a fair demand, but she goes on.

“And you have to convince him to help us break into Reena’s room. I want to see what she’s hiding in there.”

Want to what?
Alis will never agree to that. But I force a smile and nod again, figuring I’ll come up with something to pacify her later. At least I have two people on my team now. Even if the team might be a bit of a job to bring together.

chapter
TWENTY-THREE

m
y parents are both still at work when Tessa pulls up in our driveway just after four the next day. I’m getting used to her behind the wheel. So far, she hasn’t put us into any life-threatening situations. Considering her lack of instruction, she drives pretty well.

She honks, but I’m still layering my clothes to avoid wearing a jacket. When I open the door to her knocking only minutes later, she looks like I’m wearing on her nerves already. I jot a note for Dad, explaining I’m going to a friend’s house. I include Tessa’s cell number, just in case.

“Good to go,” I say cheerily.

She rolls her eyes.

I still can’t believe Alis agreed to let us come over. He didn’t even put up a fight about Tessa coming along, or about her lock-picking plan. He must be curious about Reena’s room too.

Tessa checks her watch twice on the way to the car. I wait for her to suggest we synchronize. She loves this covert stuff.

My heart beats techno-fast on the ride over. I take calming breaths. “When do you have to get the car back?” I have to talk to keep my mind off things. Even sneaking into Faith’s room made me nervous, and I sure didn’t have to worry about
her
walking in on me.

Tessa shrugs. She’s not exactly making this conversation flow.

“Do you think your parents suspect you drive it?” I try again.

She glances over with a raised eyebrow. I’m not sure what the look is all about, but I’m a lot less concerned about that than I am about her keeping her eyes on the road.

“It’s just me and my dad,” she says. “And I guess you don’t know him.” She faces forward again.

What am I supposed to say to that? Of course I don’t know her dad. She made me wait outside her stupid apartment! But
her words make me wonder if she was hiding something in there. Like me staying outside wasn’t just a matter of convenience or keeping me at arm’s length.

I test the waters. “You’re right. I don’t know anything. What’s your dad like?” After her tone, I know better than to ask what happened to her mom.

Tessa taps the steering wheel. We go through a couple more intersections before she says anything. “You want to know what my dad is like, huh?”

I don’t bother answering, since it sounds rhetorical.

“Come over tomorrow after school,” she says. “You’ll see.”

Plan V: Breaking and Entering 101.

A few minutes later, Tessa drives right past the Monachie’s cul-de-sac.

“You missed it!”

She shakes her head. “Come on, think, Jenkins.” When she calls me Jenkins, it gives me the feeling I’m growing on her. “We don’t want what’s-her-face to recognize this car. We need to keep it hidden. Just in case.”

Just in case what?
I want to ask. But I bite my lip to keep my dumb questions to myself.

We walk a block and a half back toward the house, and then Alis separates from the shadows, and waves from the
side of the house by the garden swing. We skirt around the corner in his direction.

“Come through the back,” he whispers when we get close enough.

I awkwardly gesture at Tessa. “Alis, this is Tessa. Tessa … Alis.”

Tessa’s eyes dart back and forth between us. Then she studies Alis and his preppy polo shirt. Eventually, they both nod at each other. Alis stares down at her skull belt buckle. This is not exactly a friendship waiting to happen.

He opens the sliding glass door off the porch and we enter his small kitchen. Tessa takes a slouching position against the sink and Alis leans on the kitchen table. I hover between them.

The yellow walls with rose wallpaper bordering around the upper perimeter could’ve been in style a decade or two ago. The paint on the cupboards is chipped and the whole room feels much older than it had from the outside.

Tessa glances between the clock and her wristwatch.

“Synchronizing?” I joke, trying to break the awkward silence.

She scowls. “I’m setting my alarm for five-fifteen.”

“We better get a move on,” Alis says. “I’ve been trying to pick the lock on her bedroom door, but …” He shifts like he wants someone to interrupt. “Maybe you’d be better at this sort of thing,” he says to Tessa.

“Me? Why?” she says in false shock.

“Well, no. I mean, I just thought—” He shoots me a look, and I’m about to take the brunt of this one when she pushes past him.

“Shut up.” She leads the way. I can tell she’s joking, but by the look on Alis’s face, he has no idea. I follow them up the stairs, wishing I had a better idea of why we are even here. I always thought it was more a girl thing to sneak into a sibling’s room. Then again, Alis seems protective of his sister and I wonder if he worries about what her group is into after what happened with Faith. Maybe he wants to make sure Reena doesn’t plan on following in Faith’s footsteps.

Along the stairwell, I notice tiny nails in the walls, but no pictures. Not even one. “How long have you guys lived here?” I ask Alis.

“Most of my life. We moved from the other side of Salem when I was three.”

Tessa swings doors open one by one, poking her head into each room and not bothering to ask which one is Reena’s. She’ll find it herself.

Alis scoots past her. “It’s this one.” He rattles the locked knob and gives Tessa a warning look.