The Coven (16 page)

“He hangs out with the witches,” Bettina shocked me by saying. She was several people away and speaking in a low tone. Only by concentrating could I hear what she was saying. I’d had no idea that people around school thought of our group as “the witches.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him with Cal and the rest of them,” said Paula. “Hey, if he isn’t going out with anyone, why don’t you ask him to the game?”

Bettina giggled. “Maybe I will.”

Well, well, well, I thought, popping the ball over to Sarah Fields. She hit it over the net to Janice, and Janice returned with a quick, neat pop that went right between Bettina and Alessandra Spotford, costing us a point and giving our opponents the serve.

Bree was in the server’s position on the other team, and while she was holding the ball, someone gave a wolf whistle from the other side of the gym. She looked up, her eyes flitting from boy to boy until she found Seth Moore giving her a big, lecherous grin. Seth was good-looking in a punky kind of way. His hair was cut in a buzzed flattop, he wore two silver earrings in his left ear, and he had pretty hazel eyes.

Bree grinned back and wiggled her shoulders at him. Automatically I looked for Chris Holly, Bree’s most recent ex. He was watching it all with a kind of frozen animosity, but he said nothing and made no move.

“Come on, Miss Warren,” ordered Ms. Lew.

“You and me, baby!” Seth shouted.

Bree laughed, and then our glances met. She gave me this snarky, superior smile, as if to say, See? Boys would never do that for
you.
I tried to look bored, but of course it was true. Cal was the only guy who had ever paid me any attention. Bree’s showing off hurt me, as she intended.

“Anytime!” Bree called to Seth, getting ready to serve. Several of his teammates made a big show of holding him back. Everyone was laughing now, everyone but me, Chris Holly—and one other person. When I saw the look on Robbie’s face, my jaw almost dropped open. Good old Robbie, my pal Robbie, was watching Bree and Seth with a barely concealed jealousy. His hands were clenching at his sides, and his whole body was tense.

Huh, I thought in wonder. He had never said a word about liking Bree.

Then I felt a stab of guilt. Of course, I hadn’t asked.

“Come on, Bree,” said Ms. Lew, sounding irritated.

Bree gave me another superior smile, as if this whole show was for my benefit, to show me how hot she was and how nothing I was. A spark of anger ignited in me. Looking at her, I impulsively hooked my finger in the neck of my T-shirt and tugged it down, revealing the silver pentacle that Cal had once worn and that was now mine.

Bree paled visibly and drew in a quick breath. Then she pulled back her arm, made a fist, and smashed the volleyball right at me with all her strength. Automatically I threw my hand in front of my face a split second before the powerful serve came right at me. It knocked me down, and the entire junior class saw me whack my head on the wooden floor. A tangy, coppery smell alerted me one second before my nose and mouth filled with blood. Putting my hands over my face, I tried to sit up before I drowned, and my blood ran out through my fingers and down my shirt.

Everyone was gasping, talking fast, and Ms. Lew’s voice, urgent and in control, said, “Let me see, honey.” Her hands pried my fingers away from my face, and when she did, I saw Bree, standing over her, peering at me in alarm, a horrified expression on her face.

I looked at her, trying not to swallow blood. Her mouth opened, and silently she said, “I’m sorry.” She looked so much like her old self for a minute that I almost felt happy. Then all of a sudden the shock subsided, and my face was filled with pain.

“Are you all right?” someone asked.

“Unh,” I mumbled, putting my hands up to my nose. “Hurts.”

“Okay, Morgan,” said Ms. Lew. “Can you stand up? Let’s get you to my office so we can put some ice on it. I think we’d better call your mom.” She helped me up and called, “Get back to the game, girls. Bettina, get some paper towels and wipe that blood up so someone doesn’t slip on it. Ms. Warren, see me in my office after class.”

I cast a last look at Bree as I left. Bree looked back at me, but suddenly every remnant of friendship or emotion was gone, replaced by calculation. It made my heart sink, and tears filled my eyes.

When Mom came to get me, she was still in her work clothes. Clucking with worry, she took me to the emergency room, where they X-rayed my face. My nose was broken, and my lip needed one tiny stitch. Everything was swollen, and I looked like a Halloween mask.

It had come to this, between me and Bree.

April 14, 1983

My peas are coming up nicely—I thought I might have put them in too early. They’re a symbol of my new life: I can’t believe they’re growing on their own so strongly, without magickal help. Sometimes the urge to get in touch with the Goddess is so strong, I ache with it—it’s like a pain, something trying to get out. But that part of my life is over, and all I have from that time is my name. And Angus.

We have a new addition to our household: a gray-and-white kitten. I’ve named her Bridget. She’s a funny little thing, with extra toes on each paw and the biggest purr you ever heard. I’m glad to have her.

—M. R.

 

That afternoon, as I lay in bed with an ice pack on my face, the doorbell rang.

I immediately sensed that it was Cal. My heart thumped painfully. I listened as he spoke to my mom. I focused my attention, but I could still barely make out their words.

“Well, I don’t know,” I heard Mom say.

“For Pete’s sake, Mom. I’ll stay the whole time and chaperon them,” said Mary K., much louder. She must have been standing right at the bottom of the steps. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs. I watched nervously as my door opened.

Mom came in first, presumably to make sure I was properly dressed and not, say, wearing a sexy, see-through negligee. In fact, I was wearing stretched-out gray sweatpants, an undershirt of my dad’s, and a white sweatshirt. Mom had helped me wash the blood out of my hair, but I hadn’t dried it or anything like that. It hung loose in long damp ropes. Basically, I looked as awful as I had ever looked in my life.

Cal came into my room, and his presence made it seem small and young. Note to self: Redecorate.

He gave me a big smile and said, “Darling!”

I couldn’t help laughing, though it hurt, and I put my hand to my face and said, “Ungh—doan make me laugh.”

As soon as Mom saw I was decent, she left, even though she was obviously uncomfortable about my having a boy in my room.

“Doesn’t she look great?” Mary K. said. “Too bad Halloween’s over. I bet by Thursday everything will be yellow and green.” I noticed she was holding a white teddy bear wearing a heart-shaped bib.

“For me?” I asked.

Mary K. shook her head, looking embarrassed. “It’s from Bakker.”

I nodded. Bakker had been sending flowers and leaving notes on our porch all day. He’d called several times, and when I had answered the phone, he had apologized to me. I knew Mary K. was weakening.

She perched in my desk chair, and I gave her a look. “Don’t you have homework?”

“I promised to chaperon,” she objected. Then, seeing my expression, she held up her hands. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

As the door closed behind her I looked at Cal. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Because of the swelling in my nose, my voice sounded clogged and distant.

His face grew solemn. “Tamara told me about what happened. Do you think she did it on purpose?”

I thought of Bree’s face, of the fright in her eyes when she saw what she’d done to me.

“It was an accident,” I said, and he nodded.

“I brought you some stuff.” He held up a small bag.

“What?” I asked eagerly.

“This, for starters,” Cal said, taking out a small potted plant. It was silvery gray, with cut, feathery leaves.

“Artemesia,” I said, recognizing it from one of my herb books. “It’s pretty.”

Cal nodded. “Mugwort. A useful plant. Also this.” He handed me a small vial.

I read the label.
“Arnica montana.”

“It’s a homeopathic medicine,” Cal explained. “I got it at the health-food store. It’s for when you’ve had a traumatic injury. It’s good for bruises, stuff like that.” He leaned closer. “I spelled it to help you heal faster,” he whispered. “It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

I sank back gratefully on my pillows. “Cool.”

“One more thing,” Cal said, taking out a bottle of Yoo-Hoo. “I bet you can’t eat much, but a Yoo-Hoo can be sucked down with a straw. And it’s got all the major food groups—dairy, fat, chocolate.You could say it’s the perfect food.”

I laughed, trying not to move my face. “Thanks. You thought of everything.”

Mom called upstairs:“Dinner will be ready in five minutes.” I rolled my eyes, and Cal smiled. “I can take a hint,” he said. He sat carefully on the edge of my bed and took my hand in both of his. I swallowed, feeling lost, wanting to hold him to me.
Mùirn beatha dàn
, I thought.

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” he asked with quiet meaning. I knew he meant, Do you want me to get back at Bree?

I shook my head, feeling my face ache. “I don’t think so,” I whispered. “Let it go.”

He regarded me evenly. “I’ll let it go so far and no further,” he warned. “This sucks.”

I nodded, feeling very tired.

“Okay, I’ll get going. Call me later if you want to talk.”

He stood up. Then he very gently put his hands on my face, barely touching me with his fingertips. He closed his eyes and muttered words I didn’t understand. Closing my eyes, I felt the heat from his fingers warm my face. As I breathed in, some of the pain dissipated.

It took less than a minute, then he opened his eyes and stepped back. I felt much better.

“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.Then he turned and left my room.

As I sank back down in bed my face felt lighter, less swollen. My head hurt less. I opened the arnica and popped four of the tiny sugar pills under my tongue. Then I lay quietly, feeling the pain wash out of me.

That night before I went to sleep, both my black eyes were almost gone, the swelling had gone way down, and I felt like I could breathe through my nose.

I stayed home from school the next day, although I looked tons better, except for the ugly black stitch on my lip.

At two-thirty that afternoon I called Mom at work and told her I was going over to Tamara’s house to pick up some homework assignments.

“Are you sure you feel up to it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I feel almost fine,” I said.“I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Okay, then. Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

I hung up the phone, got my keys and my coat, put on my clogs, and set off toward school. It’s pretty much impossible to hide a huge white whale like Das Boot, but I parked on a side street two blocks away, where I thought I could see Bree’s car pass as she left school. I could have waited for her at home, but I wasn’t sure she’d go straight there.

It wasn’t like I had a totally fleshed-out plan. Basically I was hoping to confront Bree, to hash everything out. In the best of all possible worlds, it would have a positive result. I felt like I had reached a breakthrough with my parents, and Mary K. and I had bonded again after the Bakker incident: Now I wanted to get things straight with Bree. The habits of a lifetime aren’t easy to erase, and I still thought of her as my best friend. Hating her was too much to bear. The scene in gym showed how desperately we needed to work things out.

But it wasn’t only that. I had other reasons for wanting to mend things between us, too. Magick was clarity. According to my books, to work the best magick was to see the most clearly. If I lived with an ongoing feud in my life, it could seriously hamper my ability to do magick.

I almost missed Bree’s car as it passed the corner at the end of the block. Quickly I started up mine and crept slowly behind her, as far back as I could.

Luckily Bree headed straight home. I knew the way well enough that I could hang back at a great distance, staying behind other cars. Once she had pulled into her driveway and parked, I pulled over myself at the very end of her block, behind a big maroon minivan, and shut off my engine.

Just as I was about to get out, though, Raven pulled up in her battered black Peugeot. Bree ran back out of her house.

I waited.The two girls talked for a while on the sidewalk, then headed to Raven’s car and got in. Raven roared off, leaving a trail of foul exhaust behind her.

I was nonplussed.This hadn’t been in my plan. Right now I was supposed to be talking to Bree, possibly arguing with her. Raven hadn’t figured into it.Where were they going?

A sudden fierce curiosity took hold of me, and I started my car again. After four blocks I caught sight of them once more.

They headed north, out of town on Westwood. I followed, already suspecting where they were headed.

When they reached the cornfields at the north of town, where our coven had had its first meeting, Raven pulled off onto the road’s shoulder and parked.

Slowing, I waited until they had disappeared into the recently stripped cornfield, then drove to the other side and hid Das Boot under the huge willow oak. Though the branches were almost bare, its trunk was thick and the ground dipped slightly so that no one casually glancing over would spot my car.

Then I hurried across the road and began to pick my way through the crumpled, messy remains of what had been a tall field of golden feed corn.

I couldn’t see Raven and Bree ahead of me, but I knew where they were going: to the old Methodist cemetery where we had celebrated Samhain just ten days ago.Ten days ago, when Cal had kissed me in front of the coven and Bree and I had become true enemies.