Phase (8 page)

She made a shushing gesture, looking around, eyes alert and body tense. Had she done a lot of spying before?

We both jumped a foot at the sound of a long howl.

“Jules!” I reached for her, not caring if I was too loud. I would not get eaten by a wolf. I wasn’t a method actress, Little Red Riding Hood or not.

Someone grabbed me, and I screamed like a banshee as Jules spun around.

“Oh shut up,” a voice growled in my ear. The hands that held me were wet.

I struggled, and Jules yanked me away. I turned to see Ezra in shorts, hair dripping wet.

“Ezra?” I was shaking.

“Who did you expect?” He crossed his arms. “You’re spying on us.”

Guys appeared, emerging from between the trees. They were all soaked to the skin, hair wet and slicked back. Some were panting like they’d run fifty miles.

Jules jerked her head in their direction. “We were just out for a walk. Not out for a night of naked moonlight dancing.”

Some chuckles, but they were hushed by Micah as he moved to next to Ezra.

“Or skinny-dipping,” Jules continued. “We don’t want to know what you guys do out here. Together. Naked.”

I pinched her. Did she really need to antagonize them?

“We were not—” Aidan started to speak, but stopped when Micah shot him a glare.

Despite the darkness, shadows and outlines were visible. A few of the guys wore only shorts. Gil and Nick both had shirts on.

Jules whirled at the sound of more twigs breaking. Naomi. In a summer dress, but wet like the rest. She crossed her arms, staring defiantly at Jules.

“We were just out. Swimming,” Micah said behind us.

Jules eyed Naomi. “Sure. Gangbangs are illegal in all fifty states.”

Shouts of protest.

“Quiet!” Micah roared. “We’ve all grown up together, Juliet. We’re like family. And we hang out here. If that worries you, you can always go back to foster care.”

Ezra glowered at Micah, snarling.

Jules gripped my arm, hard. “You’re not a Varden. You don’t get a say.” I heard a tremor in her voice. “Come on, Sophie.” She dragged me away, back through the woods.

I tripped while keeping up with her. “Jules.”

“Shut up.” She kept going, her grip never weakening.

I sighed, relieved when I saw my car. Spying was not my thing. Ever.

“Jules!” Ezra ran toward us, still shirtless.

I couldn’t seem to think past that fact.

“Go away, Ezra,” she said, easing me behind her. Did she think I needed protection?

“You freaked Micah out, spying on us like that.” He paused, focused on Jules. “Don’t listen to him. He thinks he’s God. You’re family. OK?”

“Whatever. I don’t need you guys. I have Sophie.”

I felt like I wasn’t even there.

Ezra’s eyes flickered over to me, then back at Jules. “Yeah. Nothing weird, OK?” He tried to smile. “We just go for late-night swims.”

“On a school night?” That was me. They both looked at me with that same “are you for real?” attitude.

“On a school night.” Ezra glanced at the woods. “You’re taking Jules back to my house, right, Sophie?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“OK? Maybe you’ll come out swimming with us sometime soon?” Ezra spoke only to Jules.

“Don’t count on it.”

He smiled like he knew a secret. “Right. No more spying, though.” He jogged away.

Neither Jules nor I spoke for several seconds.

“No animal sacrifices,” I said optimistically.

“I would have preferred that,” she grumbled, going around to the passenger side of my car. She got in and slammed the door closed.

I thought I heard another howl, but it was so faded, my overactive imagination probably made it up.

* * *

Friday was the first day of the weeklong county fair, which meant early dismissal. Best day of the month. The Show Choir would be performing tomorrow night, so tonight I’d have just pure fun without nerves. I was really excited about sharing it with Jules.

I found her by her locker that morning. She was swinging the door open and shut, almost nervously. Her eyes stared into the dark abyss of her locker like she was watching a dramatic movie.

“Morning, sunshine!” I greeted her cheerfully. I don’t know where it came from. I sounded like my mother.

Jules shot me a dark glower.

My smile dropped. “Sorry.”

She’d still been upset when I’d dropped her off at the house last night. I didn’t blame her. I wanted to hit Micah for being so cruel. But I thought maybe, knowing that they weren’t a creepy cult would make her feel better.

Obviously not.

Her forehead smoothed out as if doing that was an effort. She didn’t smile, but the frown was gone. “It’s OK. Just not awake yet.” She took out a book and then shut her locker, pushing the lock through and spinning the dial. Once. Twice. Four times in total. She noticed that I watched and jerked away almost like the metal burned her.

“You OK?”

She shrugged as we headed to English. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Like I said.” Strain hardened her voice.

When we sat down at our desks, I gave her an encouraging smile. She didn’t return it.

Worry covered my heart like tar. By the time I saw her in fourth period, I’d come to the conclusion that her mood wasn’t a lack of sleep. Something was really eating at Jules. Her hair, which had been brushed and smooth that morning was tangled and knotted. She looked like a street urchin from
The Christmas Carol
. And the darkness under her eyes seemed more pronounced than usual. Even her copper skin looked pale.

“Jules.” I leaned over, my voice low. “Are you feeling OK? You know if you’re sick, you should go home and rest. I can take you home if you—”

She turned toward me, her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Thanks a lot, Sophie. Why don’t you just tell me I look like shit?”

My stomach turned with hurt. I gulped. “I’m sorry, I just meant—”

“Shut up,” she growled.

Mrs. Lange came in, and Jules faced the front of the classroom. She didn’t look at me the entire period. I almost broke down and wrote a note to her, but with the way my day was going, I’d be caught and the note read aloud.

After class, I caught up with her. “Jules, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, you just don’t seem like yourself today.”

She whirled around in the middle of the hall. Her faded blue eyes sparked. “You think hanging out a few times makes you an expert on me? Don’t even think that you know me. You don’t. No one does.” Her upper lip curled into a snarl.

I took a step toward her, opening my mouth to say something, anything.

She scooted back, almost cringing. “Just leave me alone!” Her voice had risen enough that we got some curious looks from passersby. She turned away, stalking toward the library.

I watched her go as my heart fell into my stomach. I trudged to the cafeteria, positive that Jules wouldn’t be joining me. I plopped down across from Mary-Beth and Connie.

“Where’s your friend?” Mary-Beth asked slyly as she and Connie chuckled. “Doesn’t care to lower herself to us peons today?”

I opened my mouth, shocked. “What?” I knew they weren’t much for Jules, but I’d thought we were friends because they were generally nice girls.

“Juliet. She’s so snobby.”

“She is not. Not even in the slightest sense.” I took a bite of my apple. Jules was reserved. Big difference. “She’s just…have you guys noticed that she seems strange today? Like she looks different?” Connie and Mary-Beth were in the same French class with Jules.

Connie rolled her eyes. “We don’t care.”

“Now who’s being snobby?” I asked under my breath, peeved at my “friends.”

“Lose your sidekick?” someone asked as she passed behind me.

Recognizing the voice, I groaned. “Hi Summer.”

“Where’s your loser friend?” She did disdain so well.

“I don’t have any loser friends, so I have no idea who you’re talking about.” I usually didn’t say anything back. Impressive. For me anyway.

“Juliet isn’t joining us this afternoon,” Mary-Beth said. None of us liked Summer, but Connie and Mary-Beth, maybe even me on a weird day, wanted to be in her crowd. Being popular and feared wasn’t unappealing. “Apparently she looks like hell today.”

“Mary-Beth!”

“And that makes today different how?” Summer laughed uproariously. Connie and Mary-Beth joined her.

“I did not say that. I said she didn’t seem like herself.” I gritted my teeth.

“Yeah, that’d be a good thing. Her being someone else, maybe less loser-y.” Summer was on a roll today.

“You not being yourself would make you less mean,” I said, then slapped my hand over my mouth, shocked I’d said it. Everyone stared at me. I couldn’t believe I’d said it either.

“I could be like you, fat and friendless.” Summer didn’t miss a beat before sauntering off with her posse.

I bit my lower lip, trying not to cry. I noticed that neither Mary-Beth nor Connie defended me. They chatted to each other as I ate the rest of my food, really wishing for ice cream.

I spent all of fifth period fretting. Truly fretting, like I couldn’t stop fidgeting and pushing my hair out of my face and looking around. I didn’t hear anything about the test that we were supposed to be preparing for.

When the bell rang, I got up and trotted over to Ezra, who was packing up his things. “Ezra?”

“Yeah?” He zipped up his bag and waited.

Ezra’s lab partner, Nick, chuckled. “Planning to spy on us again, Sophie?”

I shook my head, my face getting warm, completely aware that I had Ezra’s full attention. “Is Jules OK? She seems…off.”

“Off?” Ezra sounded skeptical.

Why would he notice? He’s a guy. They never noticed stuff like that. “Never mind. See you guys.” I felt so stupid. I was overreacting. And I needed to find her and apologize so she wouldn’t be mad anymore.

“Sophie…” Ezra caught up with me once I was in the hall. “You going to the fair later?”

I nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” He scratched his head, right by the ear. He noticed me watching him and dropped his hand quickly almost like he was embarrassed. I didn’t understand why. It was cute.

He could do nothing, and I would think it cute.

“Don’t worry about Jules. She’s OK,” he said before we got to the main hallway. “Promise.” He met my eyes and patted my shoulder.

I could only blink. Couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Three thoughts.

One, he touched me.

Two, he seemed to know what was going on with Jules.

Three, I hoped he was right.

Chapter Five

I headed first to my locker to grab my things for the weekend, relishing that I didn’t have Spanish today because of early dismissal. I scurried to Jules’s locker next.

She wasn’t there.

I got to her locker and peered in the vents on the door to see if I could see if it was empty, like that would tell if she’d been and gone or not arrived yet.

“What are you doing?”

I hit my head on the locker door at her voice. I winced. “Ow.” I forced a smile to my face. “Hey, Jules.”

“You a stalker?”

“Huh?” I rubbed my head. “No, I wanted to see you before leaving. Hi.” I’d already said that, hadn’t I?

She opened her locker and turned her back on me. She wasn’t any less mad.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean—”

“Fine. I get it. Just…stop apologizing.” She shoved her books into her bag.

“You going to the fair?”

“I don’t have a choice. Meredith has a booth there.”

“Really?”

Jules shut her locker door and looked at me. “She’s a painter.”

“Oh. Cool…Uh… So, you want a ride?”

“No.” She started walking away. “I’ll just see you there.”

Then she was gone, taking her temper with her.

* * *

I stopped home first to let Slightly out for a bit and change my clothes. A skirt and blouse was not really county fair garb. Mom, a fourth-grade teacher, was already at the fair, doing something with her students. Dad would come after work so I was on my own, which bummed me out.

Maybe Jules was just having a bad day.

I let Slightly back in, patting her head, then looked once more in the living room mirror. I studied myself for a few seconds. My hair was in a low ponytail, and I’d taken the time to put on some brown eyeliner. Possible Ezra Varden sighting in a nonschool setting equaled eyeliner.

I made a face at myself and left the house. Honestly, boys made you do the strangest things.

I drove to the fairground, texting Jules to ask where I could meet her. No answer. I tried not to worry, but that was impossible. I knew deep down I should just leave her alone. Let her cool off. But leaving people alone was not my specialty.

I parked in the already crowded lot. Tons of people headed down the path toward the slowly turning Ferris wheel. The scent of funnel cakes hit my nose, and my stomach growled appreciatively.

Tonight would be fun.

I stopped by the funnel cake booth and traded a few dollars for the fried goodness topped with powdered sugar. It was burning hot, so I continued along the kiosks, looking at local art and waiting for my food to cool.

I came across an unsupervised booth. The artist was a whittler, if that was a word. Little wooden figurines lined the tables. Some polished and stained, others very rough. A few walking sticks were propped up in a corner, decorated with a variety of symbols, American Indian, Celtic, and Chinese. I set my funnel cake on a table, reached out, and took one. I traced along the carving, smiling at the smell and feel of the wood.

Most of the figurines were forest animals. Bears, squirrels, wolves, fish, birds. I figured the artist was from Forest Hills. The area was known for artisans and the like, such as Meredith Varden, a painter.

“Hey, Sophie.” Ezra came into the booth.

I nearly dropped the walking stick. “Ezra.” OK, voice, sound normal, please. “Hi.”

He smiled a little. “That’s one of my favorites.”

I looked at the stick I held. Most of images were of trees, vines, and leaves. It was a work of art.