The Dead and Buried (8 page)

I took 28 to a party at the clearing tonight and, of course, it made waves. 7 was giving him dirty looks all night. 14 was relieved. (Not that it will help her case any.)

I knew what everyone was thinking. Why him? She could have anyone and instead of someone approved — someone “in” — she plucks this guy out of obscurity.

I’ll tell ya, at first it was just the idea of being unpredictable. Plus those eyes. God! Those eyes could bring about world peace. But now … it’s more than that. I’m surprised. I might keep him longer than I’d planned. I … like him. A lot.

28 isn’t like the other guys, who seem mostly interested in sloppy groping in darkened corners of house parties. 28 is different. He can talk about books, art, current events. When he asks questions, it’s like he’s probing your mind. He’s truly interested in the answer.

Sometimes it scares me, though. Sometimes I think he’s trying to see into my soul.

And I’m scared he won’t like what he finds.

I
spent the next few days tiptoeing around the house and my family. Kayla wasn’t gone. I still walked through cold spots, felt the tingling of unseen eyes on my back, came home to find my stuff moved around. But I didn’t play. I ignored her, like you would a child misbehaving for negative attention or a dog that you didn’t want to sense your fear. I gave her no emotion or energy to feed from.

I noticed Colby doing the same thing. He was less hyper and energetic and watched a lot more television than usual, curled up in the corner of the couch. Both of us seemed to be sapped of our personalities. We went through our daily motions mechanically, walked through the house like zombies. Hoping that ignoring the problem would make it go away. If we didn’t think or talk about it, it wouldn’t be real.

Marie was either too tired to notice or stuck in so much denial that she didn’t want to look into why. Dad was home Monday and Tuesday, which was nice. But he still had to work, even while not traveling, and spent much of his time on conference calls in his office upstairs.

I stood outside his door Tuesday night for ten minutes,
considering spilling my guts. But fear held me back. What if he didn’t believe me? What if he sided with Marie again? I knew, deep inside, that if Dad chose Marie over me one more time, that would be it for us. Something inside me would break and possibly never heal.

I didn’t want to lose Dad. I adored him. So rather than give him the opportunity to make that wrong choice and cause that break, I backed away from his office door and went back to my room. And kept silent.

School became my safety net. I loved the routine of my classes and homework, craved the normality of it against the abnormality of what was going on at home. I’d been going in early, mostly to get out of the house as soon as possible. Maybe a little bit to see if anyone else was in the art room. But each morning it was empty. I sat there, studying, my heart racing anytime I heard footsteps approaching the room, and sinking when the footsteps continued on past.

Wednesday morning, I slid my ancient-mobile into a spot at the same time Faye was getting out of her little silver convertible. She closed the door, her eyes taking note of me, and then stood there, waiting. I thought about fishing through my backpack for five minutes or pretending I had an important text to type out, but decided against it. I had to go to school with Faye all year. Yeah, her personality was borderline, but it couldn’t hurt to be on the good side of it. And I hadn’t talked to her since last week when she helped me with my makeup.

“How’s it going?” I said, swinging my bag up over one shoulder.

“Ugh,” Faye click-clacked over on heeled boots. Her hair was pulled up tightly in a high ponytail and cleavage spilled out of her low-cut sleeveless sweater. She sighed. “Murph’s party was so lame last weekend. There was, like, nothing to do but watch the lacrosse team stalk the freshmen girls. Then the neighbors called the cops because we were too loud and it was broken up by ten.”

I didn’t really know what to say so I just nodded sympathetically and mumbled, “That stinks.”

“Way to start out the school year,” she sulked. “Daisy Britton used to throw the best parties, but she’s off to college now. If this is how senior year is going to be …” She rolled her eyes at the horror of it.

“Where were you, anyway?” she asked, as if suddenly realizing I hadn’t been there.

I didn’t want to say no one had invited me, though Kane probably had when I was half listening to him in the hall. “Was it Friday or Saturday?” I asked, squeezing between two cars in the front row of the lot.

“Friday.”

Good. I could just tell the truth and not seem so lame. “I had to babysit my little brother Friday night.”

“Suckage,” she groaned, hopping up onto the curb. “Your parents go out or something?”

“No, my dad travels a lot and my stepmom works Friday nights.”

Faye shot her arm out across my midsection, stopping me from entering the school. Some guy, whose eyes were superglued
to Faye’s bobbing boobs, held the door open for us for a few more seconds, then gave up and went in.

“Hold up,” Faye said. “Does that happen every Friday night?”

“Only when my dad’s gone.”

She stared at me. “Is he going to be gone
this
Friday night?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“We can party at your house, then!” Her face lit up like a slot machine on a win. “We can do it right. Only invite the seniors. None of those underclassmen wannabes.”

I grimaced, thinking that was probably a bad idea. Not only was it not cool to throw a party while my parents were out, my house was also freaking haunted. I opened my mouth, readying an excuse, but at that moment Kane and his sister came up behind us. Ellie stayed a few steps away, but Kane put a hand on each of our shoulders. “What’s up, ladies?”

His eyes took in Faye’s short skirt, high boots, and the slice of white thigh showing in between. I looked down at my jeans and felt completely frumpy. But, hey, this wasn’t a competition. Kane had made it clear he was just friends with Faye. And I wasn’t interested in Kane.

Right?

“Hi, Ellie,” I said over his shoulder.

Kane’s sister gave a little wave, then motioned to Kane that she was going inside.

Faye rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Jade and I were just planning a party at her house this weekend.”

I was about to pipe up that we were doing no such thing, but Kane was immediately overcome with an attack of the stupid and announced, “I hope it’s not Saturday because that’s when I’m taking you out.”

Faye looked sharply at me. I shook my head. “No, not like a date, he’s just, um, showing me around town a little,” I bumbled.

I looked back at Kane, hoping he wasn’t insulted by my half retraction, but he had an amused grin on his face. “The party was for Friday,” I explained to him. “But it’s not happening.”

“Of course it’s happening.” Faye grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

I pulled my hand away. “I can’t. My little brother will be there.”

“Sleeping upstairs,” Faye said. “Close his door and we’ll be reasonably quiet. It’ll be fine.”

“I really don’t think —”

“It does sound fun,” Kane interrupted. “It would be a great way for you to get to know more of the kids at school.”

I could invite Donovan
, I thought suddenly. It would be an excuse to spend time with him. Plus, I had been wanting to make more friends, get to know more people, hadn’t I? And being in the house alone at night — just me, Colby, and Kayla — was nerve-wracking. It would be nice to have other people around.

“Maybe just a small gathering of like ten kids,” I offered.

“Thirty,” Faye countered.

I hadn’t realized this was a negotiation. I looked back and forth between them, their eyes eager. “Twenty. If you promise not one more.”

Faye clapped and bounced from foot to foot. “Awesome! I’ll take care of everything.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t get out of control,” Kane said. “I’ll be your bouncer.” He fake-flexed his muscles and Faye threw her head back in exaggerated laughter.

I followed them into the school and broke off to go to my locker, where Alexa was waiting.

“What’s up with you?” she said, noting my wary demeanor.

“I think I just agreed to have a party at my house Friday night.”

“I’ve never been to a party before,” she noted with a frown. “Not my thing.”

I twirled my locker combination and swung open the door. “Well, you’re coming to mine.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

I needed one person there I could trust.

Thursday, I walked around school with a giant grin plastered on my face. Every afternoon, I’d been hiding in the library after classes let out. But today I had somewhere else to be. The first book club meeting was this afternoon.

I’d seen Donovan here and there in school all week, but mostly with his head down. I would have felt weird just walking
up to him and striking up a conversation. But he’d be at book club. And I was looking forward to having a real reason to talk and maybe start to figure out why I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Between classes, I saw Ellie Woodward heading to the cafeteria. I shouted out her name. She turned and smiled shyly.

“Hey,” I said, catching up. “I don’t know if Kane told you yet but I’m having a party Friday night. You’re invited if you’d like to come.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Faye came up behind me, her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing inviting sophomores?”

“She’s Kane’s little sister,” I explained.

“I don’t care who she is. We’re throwing a party, not opening a day care.”

I gave Faye an exasperated look. “We?”

“Yeah. We. You’re providing the house, I’m providing the clout. So, we.” With that, Faye stomped off, thinking she’d won the argument.

I turned to Ellie, feeling absolutely horrified, even though I hadn’t been the one to act like snobzilla. “Don’t listen to her. You can definitely come.”

Ellie nervously shook her head, making her blond hair tremble. “No thanks.”

“Don’t let Faye bully you. She’s not the boss of everyone. It’s my house and I’m inviting you.”

“No, it’s not that.” Ellie paused, selecting her words carefully. “I appreciate you asking me and all, but I really don’t want to go. It’s just not my thing.”

She thanked me again and walked away, but I still felt bad about the whole confrontation. Once this party was over, I was done with Faye. I’d given her a couple chances, but she wasn’t the type of person I wanted to hang with. That was clear now.

Each of my final three classes seemed to last longer than the previous one. By seventh period, I swore the clock was ticking backward. When the bell finally rang, I dashed to my locker, then to the bathroom. I fixed my smudged eyeliner, put a fresh coat of gloss on my lips, flipped my head upside down, and shook my hair around to give it a little body.

Yeah, I was really excited to vote on a book.

The hallways were nearly emptied out by the time I reached the classroom the club had reserved. I figured after all the time I’d wasted in the bathroom that I’d be the last one in. But only Donovan was there, sitting alone at a desk, his shoulders hunched, his eyes staring out the window. He looked so sad and hopeless, my heart cinched.

I claimed the desk beside his, my eyes taking in the paper he had ready, with the word
Nominations
written at the top. His expression softened when he noticed me.

I smiled sheepishly. “Where’s everyone else?”

His Adam’s apple slid up and down as he swallowed. “I guess there is no one else,” he said tightly. “Last year the group was bigger.”

That made no sense. “Why would no one from last year show up?”

Donovan looked down at his clasped hands. His hair flopped forward, covering his eyes. He didn’t have to say it. I
finally realized why no one had come to his meeting. He was exiled. Because of Kayla’s death.

His chair scraped across the floor as he stood up. “So no club this year.”

“Wait,” I called out. “We can just … hang out for a little while. I really …” Now it was my turn to look away. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

He hesitated for the longest second of my life, then settled back into his seat. “What are you wearing today?”

The corner of my mouth rose. “No pendant today.” I lifted my hair up to show my earrings. “Opal studs. It was believed that opals could render you invisible.”

He smirked and whispered, “They’re not working.”

“Not in school hallways. More like invisible in battle.”

“Like a ninja stone.” He chuckled. “How come you know all that? Why are you so interested in all the stones?”

I shifted in the hard chair and told him what I hadn’t told anyone in town. “Most of them were my mother’s. She was a jewelry designer.”

“Was?” he said softly.

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. Normally I hid this side of me, but it had just … come out. I kept my eyes down as I spoke, not wanting to watch the change come over him. The uncomfortable, awkward mask of pity that would slide over his features. “She died when I was nine. Cancer. I have a stepmom now.” I shrugged. “She’s okay.”

“Are you following in your mother’s footsteps?” Donovan asked. “Designing jewelry?”

I made myself look up and braced for the expression on his face. But it wasn’t there. His eyes were engaged, not pitying.

“No,” I said. “I tried, but I don’t have her talent.”

“Tell me about her.” His voice was soft but steady, and he met my eyes directly. He wasn’t just making conversation. He truly wanted to know.

“Mom always smelled like jasmine. It was probably just a perfume she wore, but it seemed like more than that. Like it was part of her being or something.” I paused and took a long, slow breath. “She had a delicate touch. I loved seeing her create a beautiful piece out of nothing. I’d watch her hold the tiny instruments, place the gemstone into the setting with the steadiest hand.”

I couldn’t resist a small smile at the memories. Usually, talking about my mother was almost painful for me. But Donovan made me feel at ease.

I continued, “She told me what each gem was, where it was mined, its meanings, its ancient uses. People think I just wear the gemstones because I like jewelry. But it’s more than that. When I wear them and touch them … I still feel connected to her.”

Donovan was watching me closely. I was surprised by both my honesty and the fact that my neck wasn’t on fire. This should have been the most uncomfortable conversation of my life, but I felt fine. Relieved, actually.

“What about your name?” he asked. “Isn’t that a gem?”

I nodded. “That’s why she chose it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What does it mean?”

“Jade protects children from harm and encourages people to become who they really are.”

“That’s fitting,” he said quickly.

I raised one eyebrow. “How so?”

“You’re the most
you
person I’ve ever met.” He grimaced. “Wait, that didn’t make much sense.”

I suppressed a smile as he fumbled for words.