Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4) (19 page)

“I don’t know but I’m not going to ask Mom or Dad
about it. It’s time for the past to stay where it belongs—in the
past. Are you ready to go now? I have some homework that I
need to do.”

Was it just me or was Rachel hiding something from
me?
I was prone to paranoia these days and afraid to trust my
own judgment.
Still, the fact that Rachel
wanted
to do her
homework was odd enough on its own. I nodded my head and
turned back toward the car. In one day’s time, I’d managed to
lose a friend, question another friend’s honesty, become the
laughing stock of Charlotte’s Grove High School, and quit my
job.
But I was still left with the burning question of what
Lascher meant by that remark. The only person left to ask was
Zach. Would he be just as evasive about it as Rachel was? And
how would I deal with it if he was?

Despite desperate pleadings to let me finish out my
senior year via cyber school, Dad insisted that I return to
classes the very next day.
I endured a ten minute lecture
regarding the fact that if I ran away now, I would only be letting
the bullies win.
When I responded by telling him that I was
perfectly okay with that, he didn’t even acknowledge me.
So
merely one day after epic embarrassment, the crippled mouse
was being thrown back into the snake pit.

The halls got quiet as I wound my way through them
but I could always hear some sort of snickering behind me after
I was past.
People moved far out of my way like I was a
contagion, like if they accidentally bumped into me they would
become a freak of nature, too.

What turned out to be the worst moment of the day
actually came very near the beginning. Brooke stopped by to
talk to me and
Mr.
Raspatello regarding
the
Black Raven
Society. Since she wasn’t acting weird with me, I assumed that
maybe I was wrong about her maturity level and she was above
all of the petty crap the other kids seemed to thrive on.
She
announced that she had
a suggestion for our first reading
assignment and I was eager to hear it.

“Since Prom is only a few weeks away, I thought it
would make sense for us to read “Carrie” by Stephen King,” she
declared proudly.

“That’s an excellent choice!” I said excitedly. While King
wasn’t one of my favorites, this particular novel was. I’d read it
a few times over the years, but it had been quite a while since
the last time I picked it up. I was so thrilled at the prospect of
re-reading it that I never thought to question her motive for
choosing it.
Not until Kody Kirk overheard us and piped up
with a smartass remark.

A round of laughter swept the room. I looked up to see
Brooke smirking proudly in my face.
Anger began seething
inside of me. She did that on purpose. She was nothing but a
bitter, jealous harpy—no better than Misty herself.
I always
knew that she envied my position in Mr. Raspatello’s eyes but I
never dreamed that she would stoop so low to knock me off of
that imaginary
pedestal.
Well,
if she
thought that tearing
someone else down was the way to raise her own self-esteem,
she was wrong.
Someday she would realize that.
They all
would.
Unfortunately for me, today was not going to be that
day.

Mr. Raspatello instantly ordered Kody to the principal’s
office and sternly quieted the room but the damage was already
done. I was mortified once again.

When I returned to my seat, Rachel and Zach both did
their best to console me but it didn’t help one bit. I still had to
endure two more months of this kind of humiliation before
graduation. How was I ever going to survive?

Rachel tried to cheer me up by confirming our Sunday
afternoon shopping trip to look for prom dresses. Not a very
well timed comment considering the fact that the whole school
was now going to be worried that I would incinerate them
during the big dance.

“I’m not going to the prom but I will still come and help
you pick out your dress.” The worst day in the world couldn’t
take away my love of shopping—even if I wasn’t shopping for
myself. Plus, the opportunity to spend a few hours hundreds of
miles away from this wretched town was an offer I would
never, ever refuse.

“Of course you’re going to the prom, Ruby! It’s still
almost two months
away—you’ll change your mind before
then. If you don’t get a dress now, you’ll be stuck with
something hideous when the time comes. It’s going to be one of
our last big moments of high school—you can’t miss it.”

“Rachel’s right, Ruby,” Zach chimed in, “You worry too
much about what everyone else thinks of you. I’ve been
looking forward to taking you to the prom ever since we first
started dating.”

Really? Did Mr. Perfect have to go and say something so
irresistibly sweet right when I was determined to continue
feeling sorry for myself? How could I say no to that comment,
to those beautiful blue eyes staring lovingly at me?
It was too
much for even my stubborn resolve. So I caved. For Zach, I
would do anything in this world to make him happy even if it
meant making me feel miserable.

“Fine. I’ll go to the stupid prom. I’ll go and get made
fun of. I’ll go and worry about dodging buckets of pig’s blood
the whole time I’m there. I’ll go and watch Misty get crowned
Prom Queen. I just want you to realize that I’m only going to
make
you
happy.”

Zach smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “There’s that
dark little ray of sunshine I was looking for! You’ll be glad you
changed your mind when the time comes—I promise you that.
I’ll make sure that it’s a night we’ll both remember for the rest
of our lives.”

In spite of how wretched I truly felt, I couldn’t help but
smile. He just had that effect on me. I knew that he would find
a way to make that night special for me—
and
help keep an eye
out for hidden buckets of pig’s blood. I really had been looking
forward to going to the prom with Zach—that was one night
that I simply couldn’t let Misty ruin for me. Every other night,
maybe, but not that one.

My plan was to get through the day by keeping my head
held high and making eye contact with no one.
They were
nothing more than ghosts to me at this point—transparent and
merely resembling the people I once thought they were. While
I never had tons of friends here, I at least thought that I had
very few enemies. But I was wrong. I chalked it up to a lesson
learned the hard way—one I would definitely never have to
learn again.

“Seriously, Ruby, everything is going to be just fine.
You’re going to be so busy for the next few months that Misty
and everyone else will be nothing more than a blip on your
radar. Don’t forget—track starts today!”

I
did
forget but I pretended that I didn’t. “Yep, totally
looking forward to that, too.
There are infinite amounts of
energy inside me just aching to be burnt off on a good run!”
If
only that run could take me far away from Charlotte’s Grove
and the shame I’d suffered here.

Since I no longer had a job to get in the way of my
personal time, I
made plans
with Zach
for
some Saturday
afternoon car shopping.
Now that he was in a better mood, he
resisted somewhat but I reminded him that he really did earn a
portion of that money and deserved something out of it. Rita
had called and left numerous messages for me but I hadn’t
screwed up enough courage to face her yet. One step at a time,
I figured. I hated to leave her hanging like that but I didn’t
know what else to do.

You know how the clock slows down to a turtle’s pace
when everyone you encounter looks
at you
like you’re a
paranormal pariah? Okay, so I was probably the only person in
the history of time itself to have that specific feeling but you get
the picture. Once again, there were points where I would have
sworn
that I saw the hands on the clock move backwards.
While most everyone looked at me like I was an insane drama
queen, some of them actually seemed to be frightened of me.
Even Chloe who I used to consider a somewhat close friend,
simply kept walking when I tried to ask her a question about
our homework assignment. I was keeping a super huge secret
for her—how did she know that I wouldn’t go all Lucas on her
and reveal it to the world? I
wouldn’t
, of course, but
she
didn’t
know that.

By the end of the day I was completely fed up with
everyone. As Zach and I walked out of math class, I caught a
freshman girl laughing at me and I snapped.

I stood a good five inches taller than her so I towered
over her like the dominatrix I was supposed to be, leaned in
close to her face, and whispered, “Boo.” If she didn’t actually
pee her pants, she at least came damn close to it. She dropped
her books hastily into her locker and turned away quickly.
When I heard her mutter the word “freak” to her friend once
she thought she was out of earshot, I snapped again.

“That’s right, I
am
a freak—and don’t you forget it!” I
screamed it at the top of my lungs, every ounce of my anger and
frustration rolled out verbally and echoed down the hallway.
Everyone there to witness my meltdown fell completely silent.
There was a collective holding of their breaths, like everyone
was afraid that even breathing in my general direction might
throw me into some sort of psychotic tantrum.
Even Zach
forgot to exhale for a brief moment.

“Come on, Ruby,” he said, snapping out of his shock at
my outburst and grabbing my hand, “Forget about her—forget
about all of them. You aren’t a freak and you know you aren’t.
Now take all of that anger and put it to good use at tryouts. Just
don’t use the javelin as an impaling rod, okay?”

Javelin? Impaling rod? OMG. When Rachel convinced
me to join the track team with her, I thought I was signing up
for running not medieval weapon flinging. What did I let her
talk me into here?
For real, the concept of having people who
hated me randomly throwing pointy objects in my vicinity
frightened me a little bit. Truth? I was damn close to peeing in
my
pants.
Someone was probably going to get hurt and that
someone was probably me.
Then, from out of nowhere, Rachel
came sweeping up behind me and grabbed my arm.

“She looks more like a discus kind of girl to me, little
brother. And don’t worry, I know how accident prone she is—
I’ll take good care of her for you.”

Discus?
Great. Add a lead Frisbee to the list of things
that could potentially be thrown at me. I had just enough time
to give Zach one last kiss before being swept off to my board of
education approved maiming.

On the way to the locker room, Rachel explained that
Coach Hunter preferred to have everyone participate in at least
two different events. I was going to have to find something else
I was halfway decent at besides running. Time to embarrass
myself silly in front of everyone yet again. If I didn’t truly love
Rachel like a sister, I would have broken another window to
escape. But I promised her that I would do this with her—I had
to make good
on my
word, even
if it meant
more public
humiliation. Which it undeniably would.

To make matters even worse, the first person I saw
when we got out to the field was Misty. There she was doing
stretches in her tiny little track shorts, clearly aiming her barely
covered behind in the boys’ direction. Why did she have to be
so skank-tastic? I mean, for real, she was totally gorgeous and
wouldn’t have to do anything to get attention. She took “if
you’ve got it, flaunt it” to “if you’ve got it, shove it in every
male’s face within a three mile radius and shake it like a cheap
stripper”. I didn’t understand it nor did I even care to at this
point.
As long as she kept it far away from Zach, she could
point that rear end in any direction she pleased. My feelings for
her went far beyond hate and into something as yet unnamed.
But rest assured, I would find a way to name it.

Coach Hunter gave us time to warm up before tryouts
and for some odd reason, I let Rachel talk me into at least giving
some of the more frightening events a try. First up, the discus
which I flung with all my might. Too bad my might could only
send it clunking to the ground a few feet in front of me. Next,
the shot put. Yeah, I could barely even lift the thing and once I
somehow managed to get it into position, it was too heavy and
fell with a thud
behind
me. I practically ran screaming when
Rachel tried to hand me the javelin. I was well aware of the fact
that everyone was snickering behind my back—I didn’t want to
be tempted into the impaling rod idea.

High jump, long jump, pole vault—my performance at
each was equally miserable. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t even
the slightest bit athletic—what was I doing here?
Besides
making an even bigger fool of myself than I already had, that is.

Once the field tryouts were over and we hit the track, I
started to feel like less of a loser. I picked two events that I
knew I was at least able to compete in—the 100 and 200 meter
dashes. Rachel knew that I could beat her at both, so she chose
to go for the longer distance runs instead.
I came in first in
both of my events and then plunked my tired butt down in the
grass to cheer Rachel on. Misty also chose the longer distance
runs and Rachel was only slightly ahead of her the entire time.
You could see the determination on that evil serpent’s face—
she didn’t want to lose period, let alone to my best friend. But
that was exactly what happened as Rachel maintained her lead
past the finish line.