The Hidden Door

Copyright © 2011 LIZ BOTTS

ISBN
978-1-936852-58-1

Cover Art Designed By Elaina Lee

Edited By
Em Petrova

For my family, especially my mom who helped me tremendously with this book.

“Are you in or what?”

I hear the edge in Riva's voice, but I hesitate anyway. “I don't know. Who else is going?” I ask, switching the phone to my other ear and getting up from my bed.

Riva sighs, “I don't know. Malcolm. Sarah. Kelly. Justin.”

“Justin? No way. I'm not going.”

“Daphne, really!” Riva huffs, “It's Halloween for goodness sake!”

We sit in silence for several minutes and I am not sure how to go on. Riva has only been my friend for a few months. We met when she moved here from Pennsylvania so she doesn't know my history with Justin.

I stand in front of the mirror, which hang
s
over my dresser. The face staring back at me looks so sad. Justin does this to me. I miss him.

I loved him, Reev
, I want to confess.
I loved him and he rejected me.

Riva stays silent for so long I think our phones have disconnected. But she finally says, “Aren't you even a little curious about the ghost? And what about The Vampire sightings?”

“It's all about the Hidden Door,” I say.

“What's the Hidden Door?” Riva's voice changes to a higher pitch, like it does whenever she gets excited.
Shoot
.

I watch the shadows cast by the streetlight dance along my wall. A tree branch bends in the wind, startling me with the quick change of light and dark. My head whips around toward my window so fast I almost drop the phone. I peer out into the dark. Nothing there.

“Just a silly campus legend. Justin tells it better.”

“Please come with us,” Riva says. “It won't be the same without you.”

I want to believe her. But now that I know Justin will be there, I'm just not up for a night filled with unspeakable tension. Especially now, with all the rumors about a vampire (or more accurately a vampire wannabe) lurking in the shadows. I have to think of an excuse. Fast.

“My parents will never let me go,” I say. “What would I tell them?”

Riva squeals. The shrillness nearly bursts my eardrum. “I knew you wanted to go. Just tell your parents we're going to the Halloween concert, and then you are spending the night at my house. Which you totally can do, by the way, when we're done with our investigation.”

With that Riva launches in to her explanation of the plans for the evening. I have agreed to meet her at the concert hall with the rest of the group. She promises to send one of
the other girls to pick me up.

As I pull on jeans and a warm sweater, I muse over the fact that Justin will love this. The Hidden Door legend has always been a favorite
Justin
always thought that he was
one step away from finding it—
that he would crack the mystery if he just worked on it hard enough.

I wouldn't really know, I guess. We haven't been talking much this past year. I'm not going to focus on that tonight though, I promise myself as I start packing my backpack with sup
plies.

When Justin and I were best friends, we spent countless nights prowling around campus searching for the Hidden Door. Still
,
as much fun as those nights were
,
we never found anything to suggest paranormal activity. He kissed me on
one of those stake-out nights—
right at the beginning of junior year. I doubt he even remembers.

My parents are surprisingly nonchalant when I tell them my plans. They tell me to have fun. Now that I am a senior, they seem a bit more relaxed about my coming
s
and going
s
.

Just as I am about to walk out the front door, my mom catches me. She places her hand on my neck, mutters something in Latin then pulls out my crucifix necklace. Nodding, she presses something—a bottle—into my hands.

“Be careful, Daphne,” she says with a tight smile. Nodding to the bottle she says, “Holy water.
Just in case.”

I roll my eyes, but stuff the bottle into my backpack. My older sister Veronica marches in the
door before I make my getaway.

“Where are you going?” She plants herself directly in my pat
h, hands on hips.

“Out,” I say, stepping around her.

She blocks me again. Veronica is a freshman at the university this year. Ever since school started she has been Miss High and Mighty. There is no way I am telling her my plans. Especially not in front of Mom and Dad.

“Out where?” she persists, acting like sh
e is going to grab my backpack.

Dodging her, I reply, “I'm just going to the Halloween concert with Riva and some other people.”

“At the university?”

“Um, duh! What other Halloween concert do you know of?” I try acting like this is all no big deal, even though the Halloween concert is undeniably one of the biggest music events of the year, in our town anyway. This year's theme is ‘Halloween Goes to the Movies'. I really have no idea what that means. The “Ghostbusters” theme song maybe?

“What about The Vampire?” Veronica speaks loud enough that Mom and Dad glance at each other.

Some guy has been terrorizing our town and the university, by pretending to be a vampire. He wears fake fangs, pale makeup, …the whole cheesy bit. So far there hasn't been anything more than random muggings. He doesn't even carry a weapon. I guess people are just so freaked out by the way he acts and t
alks that they do what he says.

“I'll be careful,” I promise.

Veronica glares at Mom and Dad like they are sending me in to be eaten by lions or something. She happens to be in the minority of our town that believes this guy is actually a vampire. I think perhaps she read
Twilight
one too many times.

“Veronica, leave your sister alone,” Dad says befo
re opening the newspaper again.

Before I leave, I catch a glimpse of the headline story on our small town rag. All about the latest strike of The Vampire. Chuckling, I hurry out to wait for my ride. People sure are gullible. They will believe whatever they are going to believe despite evidence to the contrary, such as the fact that the guy mainly snatches purses. He doesn't leave bloodless victims with bite marks in their necks trailing in his wake.

The night air swirls around me, already thick with darkness even though it is only just after six-thirty.
A sliver of a moon hangs on the horizon, but not bright enough to provide much light tonight. Skeletal tree branches scrape the sky, rattling in the chilly wind that blows brittle leaves.

Groups of trick-or-treaters race past me as I hurry to the curb to wait for
whoever
Riva
sent
to pick me up. The laughter of suga
r-fueled kids assaults my ears.

I hate Halloween. Sure, I loved dressing up as a kid, but the second I hit middle school all that changed. No one cool dared to dress up. Let's just say in seventh grade I was desperately uncool. Fairy wings? Oh, yes. Glittery make-up? Check. Long, gauzy dress? Unfortunately. Of course Veronica tried to convince me not to wear a costume to school, but I didn't listen to her.
Shuddering at the memories, I turn away from the view of kids getting candy from my Mom.

A familiar blue car pulls to a stop in front of me. I frown as the window eases down.

“Hey, Riva asked me to pick you up. That's okay, right?”

I purse my lips, staring at Justin's handsome face. What can I do? If he doesn't give me a ride, no one will. Without saying anything I open the door and throw my backpa
ck on the passenger side floor.

Justin continues staring at me. I swallow against my suddenly dry throat. His green eyes still startle me into a blush every time they catch me in his gaze. I try not to notice the enticing stubble shadowing his jaw or the worrisome dark circles under his eyes. We still hang out together when there is a group of our friends going out, but we rarely talk. I have nothing to say to him.

“Are you excited?” h
e asks as I slam the door shut.

I shrug and fasten my seatbelt. Justin pulls away from the curb only to stomp on the
brakes
seconds later as a pint-sized Spiderman darts across our path. His mother chases after him, scooping him up then shouts, 'Sorry!' in our general direction.

If I had been driving, that moment would have been filled with fuming and some choice swear words. Not so with Justin. He stays as cool as can be
giving a half smile and waving to the woman as she hauls the kid across the street.

“Come on, you have to be excited, Daph,” Justin says, pulling out of my street then heading to the university. “You've always loved a good mystery.”

My sideways glance rewards me with his twinkling green eyes and the little crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. My insides quiver. I can't help it. He always elicits this reaction in me. Frustrated, I fidget with the zipper on my backpack, giving it all my attention. Justin's favorite joke since we became friends was how I had to love mysteries because my name is Daphne like the character on Scooby Doo. For a long time
I tried living up to that joke—
just because it made Justin so happy. Not that I look anything like the red haired, curvy mystery hunter. My stick straight brown hair and penchant towards baggy hoodies don't exactly elicit a va-va-voom response.

I exhale sharply. “I guess. I'm only going because Riva annoyed me into it.”

Justin laughs—
a big joyous sound that actually fills the whole car, threatening to swallow me whole. I inhale his laugh hoping that some of his joy will be contagious and infect me. I don't mean to sound so sour, but…I just can't help but get gloomy when I am around Justin. Things could have been so different.

Parking his car in a faculty lot, Justin reaches into his glove compartment and pulls out his dad's parking tag. “I see you've been stealing your dad's stuff again,” I say.

With a wink, Justin hangs the tag on the rearview mirror and says, “You have no idea.”

I have to admit, his comment intrigues me. Annoyance bubbles up in my chest so I open the car door fast. I am supposed to be over him
, not that I had a reason to get over him in the first place.
S
till, as I hike my backpack up onto my shoulders I can't help but sneak another glance at him. He has gotten out
the car and
leans against the door. Following his gaze, I see that he is staring at The Hun, a gothic style castle that dominates the campus landscape.

“That's where the Hidden Door is,” Justin says, his voice pitched low so that only I can hear him. “I know it.”

“It can't be,” I argue. “We've searched there already.”

Justin's green eyes flash as his gaze swings towards me. I can't look away. We stare at each other mutely, and in that moment I am sure he is remembering our last fruitless search of The Hun more than a year ago. My stomach twists as we continue our staring contest. Just the memory of sitting in that dark stairwell…
his lips gently meeting mine…my heart wrenches with a familiar pai
n. I force myself to look away.

The dark edifice of the castle looms overhead. I see the space left vacant by the gargoyle of the Hidden Door legend. Instantly I feel the old spark of curiosity light within me. I can't remember a time when the mystery surrounding the gargoyle didn't fascinate me to the edge of obsession. The way some parents tell their kids fairy tales at bedtime, mine told me the Legend of the Hidden Door.

“I don't think we knew what we were looking for,” Justin says slamming the car door shut. “Let's go.”

Tears flood my eyes. I blink them away. The gruffness in Justin's voice catches me off guard. Is he mad at me? The ridiculousness of that thought almost makes me laugh out loud. He has no right to be angry with me. I'm certainly not the one who abandoned him.

I walk several steps ahead of Justin to decrease the chances that he'll talk to me. When I see Riva, I just might kill her. She has no idea about what happened between me and Justin last year. No one does. But she knows that I don't want to spend time with him if I don't have to.

As we get close to the designated meeting area, Justin grabs my arm and pulls me around to face him. “We are the most experienced hunters tonight,” he says, his face completely serious. “We have to be a team.”

The pleading tone in his voice almost makes me give in and talk to him like I used to. Just as quickly as
it comes on though, it is gone.

He regards me with hard eyes. “And we need to be careful,” he continues. “With The Vampire lurking who knows where.”

“Don't worry, my mom gave me some holy water,” I say, pulling my arm away from him.

I think I hear him chuckle as I hurry away. Does he believe this guy, The Vampire, is dangerous? I can't tell from the way he is acting. But, come on. The guy is no more a real vampire than I am a mermaid. He's no more real than the curse attached to the Hidden Door. I'm just not a believer.