THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL (5 page)

She spun the dial on her combination, settling on the familiar numbers she used for every pin number, password, and lock combination: Melanie’s birthday. Which was coming up. What would Joy do on that day? The two of them had never spent a birthday apart since … well, for as long as Joy could remember.

She slipped on her spandex shorts and pulled her once-beloved black Indians hoodie over her head. It no longer seemed a badge of honor to wear her school colors. Now it was a sentence of doom that meant she was tied to that place for almost two more years.

Joy exhaled and slammed her locker door. The sharp crash reverberated off the empty shower walls.

Time to get sweaty and out of breath before anyone else showed up with the prying looks and chatty questions. Joy jogged out to the court and started right in on jumping jacks to warm up her body before stretching.

Would Joy’s efforts really keep her teammates from hounding her for info and staring into her eyes to see if she was losing it? Of course not. But it was something, at least. Way better than walking in past them all as they fired question missiles at her. Joy shuddered. No thanks.

How are you doing?
How do you think?

What was it like?
Death.

Do you have to catch up on all your homework?
Was that a serious question?

What did the note say?
Joy had to bite her tongue when someone asked her that. If she answered what she’d like to have answered … well … she’d have regretted it.

Heather appeared in the doorway, flashing her Zoom-whitened, glow-in-the-dark teeth for the world to see. Not that they could miss them. “Joy. Joy.” Heather squealed and bounced across the room like a wet-nosed puppy. Except puppies were genuine in their affection.

“Hi, Heather.” Joy panted. More than she needed to. Anything to prolong the arrival of the private moment they were about to have. Joy could feel it coming.

“So, Joy. I’m glad we have a minute or two alone before everyone else shows up.” Heather bit on the white tip of her acrylic nail.

Oh boy. Me, too
.

Heather grasped Joy’s forearm. “Can you just tell me … How are you? Really?”

Sigh. People were clueless. “I’m fine, thanks.” What did she want to hear? Did she want Joy to admit she was falling apart? That she feared life as she knew it was over? That she was terrified of who she was becoming inside? Angry. Bitter. Sad.

“Well, I hope you’re not just being brave. I sure don’t want to arrive to the same scene in the locker room that you found at Mel’s house that day.”

Gravity defied Joy’s chin. Had Heather really just said that? One thing Joy had learned in the past weeks is that some people had no class. And it was so much worse than she could have ever expected. She’d been so naive to think people cared about her, had her best interests at heart. She’d lived with that assumption for far too long. It was time for her to wake up and face reality.

Heather bent down, yanked up her kneesocks, and wriggled a kneepad into place. She bounced a few times then pulled on the other one. “What was it like, anyway?” Heather’s eager eyes searched Joy’s for info.

“What was
what
like?” Please don’t be referring to finding Melanie dead. Please.

She glanced at Joy and raised her eyebrows.

Joy clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard. “Heather. I don’t know how to answer you.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“You’re right. That was pretty rude. I’m sorry.” She tucked a stray wisp behind her ears and did a perfect spike approach to the net, her feet squeaking on the polished gymnasium floor when she landed.

Yeah. She sure seemed sorry. But at least Heather was gone. For now. How could people not realize that Joy’s horror wasn’t fodder for their curiosity? Would she have been so insensitive if she were on the outside looking in? No way. In fact, there was a time Joy would have gone the opposite way. She’d have put her own feelings of curiosity, grief, anger, whatever, aside just to make other people feel more comfortable. No more. They didn’t care about her; she didn’t have to waste her time and energy on them.

Mom said the girls weren’t curious as much as concerned. Suicide rocked a small town way more than drugs, sex, or any other stupid thing a teenager could do. They might even be worried that Joy would be next. The investigator had whispered that it was contagious, warned Mom and Dad to be on the lookout. Yeah right. If only Joy had the guts.

Wonder where they’d rank communicating with the dead compared to suicide. Joy smirked. They’d never believe her is what would happen. They’d lock her up in a straitjacket and slap a suicide watch label on her forehead.

Did they still perform electric shock treatments on people?

“Joy?”

She whipped around at the sound of Coach’s voice calling from the doorway to her office.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” She stood back, obviously expecting Joy to join her.

No? If only Coach could have let Joy slip under the radar, let her ease back in. She jogged across the gym, past the huddled groups of volleyball players, silencing whispers with every step. She ducked under the net and followed the scent trail of Coach’s coconut lime verbena lotion into the office.

Act natural. “What’s up?” Don’t crumble. Joy leaned against the doorframe. She needed to look like she was ready to be out among people rather than strapped to a chair in the nut house.

Coach’s eyes widened. She dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair. “You seem a lot better today than you did last week. Did you get some rest over the weekend?” She looked so hopeful, so proud.

Yeah. Not exactly. Joy could never tell Coach the truth about what’d been going on. “I’m good. Anxious to play.” Joy held her gaze.

Coach tipped her head and narrowed her eyes. “Just don’t push yourself, okay?”

Joy nodded. “I won’t.”

“All right. Get on out there. Let’s have a practice.” Coach stopped at the mirror on the wall beside her door and used a comb to perk up her blond spikes.

Joy jogged out to the back row of the far court and stretched her shoulders as Coach arrived at midcourt.

“Okay. Okay girls.” She clapped her hands a few times. “Let’s settle down and get this practice started. We only have a couple more before State. This is it.” She glanced at her clipboard. “Go ahead and divide up for scrimmage. You know what to do.”

Joy took her position as outside hitter in the back row. She wiped the tops of her shoes on her kneesocks and stood ready, waiting for the other side to serve the ball. Heather had the serve. She tossed it into the air and swung at it, making perfect contact with a solid thud. It sailed right over the net and dropped. Karen set the ball with the tips of her fingers, then Cameron bumped it to Joy. Joy leaped into the air and pounded the ball right at the apex of her jump. It whistled over the net and landed in the hole. A solid kill.

A cheer rose up from the stands at her right. Joy turned, expecting to see Melanie there cheering her on, but of course it was Lauren clapping and jumping in celebration of Joy’s spike. That sequence had played out like an instruction video for volleyball students. Don’t look at Coach. Don’t let the team see excitement. They didn’t need to know Joy had been concerned she might have lost her edge. Hmm. Maybe she’d gained an edge she hadn’t even known possible. Rage might do that.

The serve sailed over Joy’s side of the net and was volleyed back. The setter did her job, and Joy went in for another kill.

Beautiful. She was back.

Lauren jogged to Joy with her hand up in the air. “Nice one.”

Joy slapped it and laughed.

“Feels good to be back, huh?” Lauren grinned.

“Yeah it d—” Wait a second. How could Joy be there having fun, laughing and talking to the new team captain, when Melanie was dead? How could she have allowed herself to forget? Even for a moment? She shut down the light in her eyes, closed her mouth, and turned away from Lauren’s toothy grin. “Let’s just play.”

She’d play well—for the team’s sake—but Joy wasn’t going to forget again. She owed it to Melanie.

“Good practice, girls.” Coach glanced down the list on her clipboard after the trial match ended. She flipped the page and nodded. “We’ve covered everything we need to about the State competition. You all know how vital your rest and nutrition is over the next couple of days. Let’s be diligent so you’re all ready for the meet on Thursday. Good sleep every night until then, you guys. Promise?”

Coach’s eyes roved the group, locking with Heather and Lauren. Then Joy.

Joy nodded. She had every intention of crashing hard in her bed that night after she got back from hanging with Raven. In fact, it would be a bonus if she never woke up.

H
ey sweetheart. You home?” Mom’s normally singsongy voice held even more cheer than it usually did.

Mom was home? She and Dad usually had showings somewhere between Ogallala and North Platte on Monday nights. Or they spent the evening out working on their rehab project at the lake. Not that she was disappointed exactly … but …

Joy bent to pull her snow boots off and shook the November winter from her coat. Act natural. The computer and another Google search about the spirit world were only minutes away. “Yeah. It’s me. What’s up?”

A head poked around the corner. Mom raised her hand to her mouth and jerked her head toward the room behind her, blond, permed curls bouncing to her shoulders. “You … um … have a visitor.” She spun and retreated back to the kitchen where the mystery person waited.

Mom’s whisper had sounded too strained for comfort. Who could it be? Joy strode across the foyer and around the corner, stopping beside the refrigerator so she could peer into the breakfast nook without being seen. Mom faced Joy from the other side of the dining table, the guest’s back was ramrod straight in front of Joy. But even from behind, she knew who it was. Those sandy waves. That heart-shaped mole on the back of his neck that he hated, but Joy had loved. His broad swimmer’s back and long arms.

Arms crossed on her chest, Joy glared over his head at her mom. He shouldn’t be there.

Mom shrugged and mouthed the word
sorry
.

Joy exhaled. “What are you doing here, Austin?”

His shoulders stiffened.

What had he expected? Joy wasn’t going to open her arms and welcome him back or offer
him
comfort. Not after what he’d done to her. To them all. He deserved to suffer.

Mom looked at Austin, her eyes heavy with … what was that? Anger? Disgust? No … it was pity that flecked her blue eyes with gray. Figured. Mom stepped around Austin’s chair, squeezing his shoulder as she passed. She moved through the kitchen and the same hand reached for Joy’s and pulled her close. “Go easy. He’s hurting, too,” Mom whispered, her hot breath tickling Joy’s ear.

For the entire year since Joy had started dating Austin, Mom had either complained that they were too serious or that they were spending too much time together. Every single day she said she wished they’d go back to the innocent, childhood friendship they’d enjoyed for ten years. Now she wanted Joy to show him sympathy and give him a chance? Mom should just stay out of it. Go back to her home renovation shows and fixer-upper magazines. Stop trying to repair what couldn’t be mended.

Joy watched as Mom tiptoed toward the family room in silence and then continued on to her bedroom. Probably to pray.
Keep praying, Mom
. It would either work, or it wouldn’t. Only time would tell.

Austin cleared his throat. “What can I do, Joy?”

He didn’t face her. Not that she blamed him. After all, how could he?

Too weary to think, Joy rubbed her temples. “What can you do? You can erase the past month—or however long it’s been since you and Mel first—.” Not that Joy wanted to know. What if it had been many months? Or longer? “You know what? You can go back to being honest and good.”

Austin’s shoulders slumped lower with each suggestion.

“You can keep your promises.” Joy took a shuddering breath. “Oh, no, wait. It’s quite evident you can’t.”

Joy waited. Austin said nothing. He wanted more? She had plenty.

“You can go back in time and leave Melanie alone from the start. Better yet, you can just trade places with her now.”

He flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

Oh? Want to bet? “Look. This is too much. Just leave.”

Austin didn’t move.

Okay. Fine. Joy had no energy to fight with him. Someone had to leave the room. If he wouldn’t, she would. Flinging her hair over her shoulder, Joy huffed from the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time Austin had sat by himself at her kitchen table. Hopefully he would see himself out and make it the last time.

If only she could get from the kitchen to her room without walking The Path. The journey to the safety of her bedroom was strewn with memories. The zillion times she and Melanie sprawled on the family room floor watching their favorite chick flicks and old classics over and over as they recited the lines. The hours and hours of late-night giggling and talking about boys. The junk food, especially Nutella Puppy Chow—their own concoction.

Oh, then there were the times she and Austin sat on the floor in front of the fireplace playing chess. He always won. Sometimes the victory was even deserved. And on the window seat across the room, where they’d shared their first kiss. And many more after that one.

Memories. Blinking didn’t blot them out. Maybe more tears would wash them away.

But no amount of tears would wash away the moment she stepped from the bathroom, toweling her hair dry to find Austin and Melanie lip-locked in an embrace. She could still see the carpet imprint of their toes facing each other. Touching. Or maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her. Surely Mom had vacuumed since then.

Hurry. Joy felt ghosts nipping at her back as she scurried down the hallway. Finally safe in her bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it as though holding back the crowds that wanted to press in. Wanting to invade her consciousness with more regret.