Vengeance (2 page)

“That sounds good.” I tried to put some gratitude into my tone. “I’ll see you soon.”

I managed to get out of bed and changed into jeans and a red, long-sleeved shirt. Red was my best color, and even though it was only a mall trip with Shannon, I still wanted to look good. I put on some light makeup—nothing too extreme since it was daytime—and was ready to go with ten minutes to spare.

I went downstairs to say hi to my dad, but he was nowhere to
be found
. That was strange, since he was normally up by now, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Sunday paper. I did find a note that he left, letting me know he had gone out for breakfast and would be back soon.

I wondered
who
he had gone out with. My dad had been doing this a lot recently—going out to get food and being vague about his company. I
couldn’t
help thinking there was a possibility he was dating. He
hadn’t
been on many dates since my mom passed away when I was in third grade. No one would ever be able to replace her, but I would be happy if he was making an effort to get himself out there.
I’d
been telling him he should for years.

I
didn’t
have much time to think about it before my cell phone buzzed in my back pocket.

I’m outside
, the text from Shannon read.

On my way out
, I replied. I grabbed my jacket and gloves from the front closet and put them on before leaving the house, watching out for patches of ice on the sidewalk as I headed towards Shannon’s Lexus SUV. She had on huge pink designer sunglasses, and her short blonde hair was ironed straight, not a strand out of place.

“You’re looking better,” she said as I got into the car, lowering the pop music blaring from her speakers.

“Thanks,” I said, even though I felt anything but. These past few weeks, full of rejection from the two people I cared most about in the world, had worn me out more
than I
ever thought possible.

I
didn’t
say anything for a few seconds. Then Shannon asked, “So, have you talked to Drew since the party?”

“No.” I shook my head and gazed out the window, not wanting to think about Friday night more than I had to. “I almost called him a few times, but it felt too pathetic. I’m not going to be that girl who won’t stop calling her ex and annoys him to death.”

“Good move,” she agreed. “You don’t want to make him happy about breaking up with you.”

“Definitely not,” I said. “But I do want him to regret it.”

Shannon raised an eyebrow. “Did you have anything in mind?” she asked.

“I was up for a while last night trying to think of something,” I
started,
glad she was willing to listen. She even seemed on board to help. I
wasn’t
sure why she cared, but I did like having someone to talk with about it all.

“And …” she prodded.

“Nothing.” I sighed and sat back in the seat. “All my ideas seemed lame—finding someone else to date to make him jealous, telling him I’m okay being friends with him and then having him regret breaking up with me in the first place, or wearing hot outfits to school to make sure he notices me. I
couldn’t
think of anything that would work. And I have this feeling, even though it doesn’t make
sense, that
this wasn’t supposed to be how things ended with us. That
we’re
supposed to be together. It sounds nuts, and I feel like an idiot for thinking it, but I
can’t
shake the idea that everything happening now is wrong. It’s all off, and I can’t explain why.”

Shannon pressed her glossed lips together and nodded,
like
she wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “Forget it.”

“No.” Shannon shook her head and tapped her French manicured fingernails on the steering wheel. “That’s all very interesting. In fact, I might be able to help.”

That
wasn’t
what I was expecting. “If you have any ideas, I’m willing to listen,” I said. “I need all the help I can get.”

“Alright.” She flipped her short blonde hair over her shoulder and looked at me before turning her attention back to the road. “This might sound strange, but hear me out. Have you ever seen that store in the mall, Mystic Pathways?”

“The one with the crystals in the display windows?” I asked.
I’d
seen the store and even been inside it once—but that was a few years ago, with Lizzie as a joke. I still remembered it clearly though. It was dark inside, and full of beads, old books, and unidentifiable herbs.
Plus,
the lady who worked there was strange. She reminded me of the old scary women in fairytales—the ones who give candy to children before kidnapping them and cooking them in the oven.

“That’s the one.” Shannon nodded. “My great-aunt owns it.
She’s
into all that magic stuff. Promise you won’t tell anyone though, cause it’s not something I publicize around school.”

“Hold up a minute.” I tried not to laugh at the thought that popped into my mind. “Are you saying your aunt thinks she’s a
witch
?”

“No!” Shannon exclaimed. “Don’t be ridiculous.
She’s
not a witch.
She’s
more like … well, I guess if you want an exact term, you could call her a psychic. And she can help you.”

I stared at her in shock, but she stayed focused on the road.
Not that I could blame her.
What she said was embarrassing. I mean, come on. She wanted me to believe her aunt is a
psychic
?
Last night I told Lizzie that fairy tales and soul mates and supernatural stuff
doesn’t
exist, and I meant every word of it. Now I’m supposed to believe Shannon’s aunt is a psychic who owns a mystical shop in the mall, and that she can help me put Lizzie in her place?

“That sounds crazy,” I said.

“I know,” Shannon agreed. “But didn’t you say that you and Drew were supposed to be together, and Lizzie messed everything up?”

“I did,” I admitted. “But it was stupid. It would be nice if fate was real, but it isn’t.”

Shannon pulled the car into the mall parking lot and started to search for a space. “Are you one hundred percent sure?” she asked.

I just don’t believe in it.” I shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything to prove it could exist. It would be nice if it did, but I can’t force myself to believe in something that I don’t think is true.”

“I wouldn’t believe it either, but in the beginning of the school year my aunt cornered me at a family dinner,” Shannon said. A car nearby started to back out, and she put on her turn signal to reserve the spot. “She told me a boy was going to transfer into our school, and he was going to start dating a girl, but there was a chance he would leave this girl for someone else. She said when that
happened,
she wanted me to bring the first girl to her. Doesn’t that sound like what happened with you, Drew, and Lizzie?”

“It does.” I chewed on my pink-painted thumbnail as Shannon parked. “But it’s so vague. Stuff like that happens all the time in school.
It’s
more likely this was coincidence—not that your aunt is a psychic who predicted everything that was going to happen between the three of us. It makes no sense.”

“I know it doesn’t,” she said, yanking her keys out of the ignition and turning toward me. “But I promise my aunt is better at explaining it than I am. Can you at least give her a chance? If after you talk to her you still
don’t
believe it, I’ll drop it.
But
you never know—maybe she can help. And none of your other ideas
were
any good. You can use all the help you can get.” She narrowed her eyes in her trademark intimidating way, and I knew I
didn’t
have much of a choice—at least if I wanted to stay friends with her.

“Fine.” I huffed. “I’ll give it a chance.
But
don’t get your hopes up. Magical stuff isn’t my thing.”

“And telling people that I’m related to someone who’s into ‘magical stuff’ isn’t my thing either, but my aunt told me to tell you, so I’m listening to her,” Shannon said. “Just don’t tell anyone at school. If you do … well, let’s just say you’ll regret it.” She raised a plucked eyebrow and smirked to let me know she was joking. But even though I’d only been
friends
with Shannon for a few weeks, I knew not to piss her off. If there was a “Queen Bee” at school, she was it. Making her angry would be social suicide. I’d hit a new low when my boyfriend dumped me for my best friend, and I wasn’t about to make my life worse by making the most popular girl at school hate me.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised. “I don’t want anyone to know I was in that store, either.”

“I’m glad we have an agreement.” Shannon tossed her hair over her shoulder and opened the door to get out of the car. “Remember to keep an open mind. It’s not very often my aunt wants to help someone so much, so at least try to take her seriously.”

I followed her into the mall, wondering what on Earth I was getting myself
into
.

CHAPTER 3

Mystic Pathways
hadn’t
changed since the time I went in there a few years ago with Lizzie. The thin carpet was forest green, the walls were dark wood, and the lighting was so dim that it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust.
There were no ceiling lights, only lamps on top of the multi-level wooden tables that held strange knick-knacks.
The shelves on the walls
were stocked
with ol
d books, and there were
spices and herbs near the back. Two college-aged girls dressed in earth-toned clothing perused crystals on a nearby table, but other than that, the store was empty.

“Is your aunt even here today?” I asked, keeping my voice low so I
wouldn’t
grab the attention of the girls. The last thing I needed was for them to walk up to us and try to start a conversation about potions and herbs, or whatever they talked about for fun.

“She’s probably in the back,” Shannon said. She headed toward the old wooden desk at the back of the room and pressed the bell next to the cash register—the kind they have at hotels when you want to get the attention of the concierge.

The door in the back creaked open, and an old lady hobbled out. She moved slowly toward us, balancing on the cane she held in her shaking hand. Her wrinkly skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and even though it was dark in the store, I could see the blue veins popping out on the top of her hands. She wore one of those shapeless dresses fat women wear, even though she was so thin that a breeze could knock her over. Her wispy gray hair was cut above her shoulders, and when she looked at
me
I shuddered at the sight of her milky eyes. It
didn’t
seem possible she could see, but she managed to continue forward, the cane clomping against the floor with each step she took.

When she reached
us
she studied me, then turned her attention to Shannon.

“I see you’ve brought a friend,” she said, her papery lips quivering as she spoke. “Would you care to introduce us?”

“This is Chelsea.” Shannon motioned toward me. “We’re in school together. Chelsea, this is my great-aunt Genevieve. She’s the one I was telling you about—the one who owns the store.”

The way Genevieve looked at us both at once was creepy, like she could focus on different things with each eye. Goosebumps prickled over my arms, even though it
wasn’t
cold.

“Any particular reason why you brought Chelsea to me?” Genevieve asked Shannon. She did a motion that I guessed would be raising an eyebrow, if she had any hair where her eyebrows should be.

“Yes.” Shannon cleared her throat and continued, “Remember a few months ago when you told me you wanted me to bring someone in to meet you? I think Chelsea’s the one you were referring to.”

“Really?” Genevieve turned her attention to me, and her cloudy eyes took on a sharper quality, as if she was seeing me for the first time. She stepped forward and grabbed my hand, her skin cold and coarse. I flinched, surprised by her touch, but her grip was stronger than I expected. Then she pressed her fingers into my palm and closed her eyes, deep in concentration.

I was starting to wonder why
I’d
agreed to come here in the first place. It
wasn’t
like this old lady could do anything to improve my situation. Still, I would bear through it, because Shannon wanted me to.