Cursed

Chapter 13

Excitement hummed through bio—last class of the day, also Friday, and oh, yeah, Homecoming Weekend. Bor-ing.

“You really aren’t going to the game?” Disbelief filled Cory’s voice. As if nothing else in this world could be as important as “the game.”

“Nope,” I eyed Coach Ashford, who had his feet crossed at the ankles and propped on the desk. His head kept falling down, and then he’d jerk it back up and blink.

“And you’re not going to the dance, either?”

I yawned loudly. “No.”

Cory shook his head. “I thought you girls lived for that kind of thing.”

We did—I did—but my date (if I had one) wouldn’t live through the night, which kind of took the fun out of it all. “Just not my kind of thing.”

“Oh.” Cory twirled the pencil between his fingers and cleared his throat. “Billy is having a bonfire after the dance. You should come.”

I simply stared at him. Billy McIntyre was in my English class. Nice kid, captain of the football team.

I barely spoke to the guy.

Cory’s cheeks turned a ruddy color. “Well… the other ones go—the ones you live with. They usually go—even Hayden. It’s like tradition around here. Go out in the cornfields, get drunk, whatever. Anyway, you should come.”

“Oh.” I bit my lip. Hayden hadn’t mentioned it. He also hadn’t mentioned the dance, even though I’d overhead Phoebe talking about going. She had a date—some pensive-looking guy with dark hair and full lips.

I wondered who Hayden would take to the dance. I mean, he had to, right? Over half the female population stopped to drool over him when he crossed their paths. And why hadn’t he mentioned the party? We were friends. Didn’t friends tell each other about these things?

“Ember?” Cory said.

“Oh. Uh, I don’t know.”

Cory frowned. “Think about it, at least? It’ll be fun.”

“Sure.”

Thankfully, the bell rang. A party sounded fun. So did keg stands. But if Hayden wanted me to go then he’d have said something, right? Of course, the moment Hayden and I walked to our lockers I had to open my big mouth. “Are you going to the bonfire Saturday night?”

Hayden palmed his bio book. “How do you know about the party?”

A frown creased my brow. “Cory invited me.”

“Did he?” His voice was soft, deceptively quiet.

“Yeah, so what?”

We stopped at his locker. With one try, he popped it open and tossed his book inside. “I’m not planning on going this year.”

“Why?”

He slid me a knowing look. “I didn’t think you’d want to go.”

“What does that have to do with you going? And why wouldn’t you think I’d want to go?”

“Well, I thought we could work on the thing since everyone will be gone.” He slammed his locker shut. “I also didn’t think you’d be up for being around so many people.”

“I like people. I like parties.” We started down the hallway.

“I’ll take you if you want.”

I stopped and stared at my locker. Was he offering because he now felt obligated? “Look, you don’t have to take me if you don’t feel up to it.” I finished dialing the numbers, gave the handle a tug, then sighed and started the combo over again. And then, I said something I had no intention of doing. “I can go with Cory.”

His dark eyes flashed, like tinder igniting. “I want to take you. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t ask. You want to go, don’t you?”

My tummy warmed for no reason.

Hayden leaned against a locker next to mine and sighed. “I don’t dance—ever. An elephant has better moves than I do.”

I kind of doubted that.

“I have no rhythm whatsoever. And I hate tuxes and stuff like corsages and really bad punch. Just thinking about all of that makes me want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Okay.” I laughed softly. “No dance.”

“But I’m taking you to the party.”

A stupid grin fought its way to my face. “Is that so?”

He nodded, a challenging look in his eyes. “So don’t even think about arguing with me about it.”

“Okay. I guess I can—” The locker finally swung open. The blood drained from my face, from all of me.

Hayden went rigid beside me. “What the hell?”

Sitting on the shelf was one of those model cars someone usually had to order and put together with glue and stuff. But it wasn’t just any model car; it was the exact replica of Dad’s Lexus: white, four-door, luxury edition. How someone knew that kind of detail amazed me.

But it was the driver’s side of the model car that stunned me into silence. Someone had taken a hammer to it. The entire passenger side was untouched. They’d even gotten creative, drawing little red lines over the back, like thin rivers of blood. Scrawled across the side was a message. I got it loud and clear.

Dead things should stay dead.

Hayden reached around and picked it up. Fury rolled off him in heat waves.

“You gonna tell me now it’s not one of them?” I asked, my voice wavering.

His eyes flicked up, and I took a step back. “We need to tell my father.”

“No.” I snatched the car back.

“He’s not going to send you anywhere, Ember.” Hayden’s voice was barely a whisper. “He needs to know about this.”

“No.” I spun around and stalked over to the trashcan. Ignoring the curious stares from the kids lingering after class, I threw the model car into the bin. “Forget this.”

Hayden had already shut my locker door. Rage pulled his face into tight, hard lines. Without warning, the garbage can turned over. I jerked back as the sides of the plastic can groaned, then split. Trash went everywhere.

The kids left in the hallway shrieked. Someone yelled for a teacher. A few hooted. Spinning around, I grabbed Hayden’s arm and pulled him down the hallway.

“Whoops,” he murmured.

I shot him a wide-eyed look. “Whoops? Wow. I wouldn’t call ripping apart a garbage can in the school a ‘whoops’ moment.”

He pulled away, shrugging. “It happens.”

I didn’t say another word until we sat in the car. “I want to go to the house.”

The keys were clenched in his hands. I stole a quick glance at his face. He still hadn’t finished reining in his ability.

“Why won’t you let me tell my father, Ember?” he asked finally.

“I don’t trust him.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t honestly believe he had anything to do with this!”

I flipped around in the seat and faced him. “It’s not that. I don’t trust that he won’t send me away! I know he doesn’t want me here, Hayden. No one but you wants me here! All he needs is a reason to send me away.”

“Ember—”

“And yeah, I don’t trust him. No one else would know, Hayden.” I leaned away from him. “That car looked just like the real one. The damage done to it was like a perfect copy. So don’t tell me it can’t be one of them. Because, really, who else could it be?”

Hayden turned away, lips drawn.

“And who else would put a message like that on there?”

He shoved the keys into the ignition. “Even though I think it’s stupid—and it’s really stupid, Ember—I won’t tell anyone. But if it happens again, that’s it.”

I flopped back in my seat, fuming. The tension and anger in his car were palpable. We drove for a while in utter silence.

Half the time I didn’t want to be here, but I was here, and I wasn’t going anywhere. And it wasn’t even that I felt I didn’t deserve this—maybe I did, like some kind of penance I’d have to pay for coming back from the dead and for what happened to Dustin. I was unnatural and wrong. I could understand why someone wouldn’t want me here.

But Olivia was here, and that meant I stayed.

I didn’t want to go to the party after the toy Lexus incident, but Hayden had insisted. “You need to do something normal,” he had said after dinner. “Besides, I want you to go. With me.”

Those two little words pretty much sealed the deal. So I tried to force it all out of my head as I dug through my closet. I decided on a jean miniskirt and black opaque tights that actually went with my chunky sweater. I also found a pair of totally ugly sheepskin boots, but they’d keep my feet warm.

Getting my curls to not look like one giant frizz ball took a good forty minutes, especially since Olivia dumped half the bottle of curl revitalizer on her own head.

“Mine.” I snatched it from her and made a face.

Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, swinging her feet back and forth. “Why aren’t you dressed like Phoebe?”

Phoebe had left over an hour ago, wearing a killer black dress that seriously pushed the dress code with its neckline. And she’d looked good.

I returned to the bathroom mirror and puckered my lips. Olivia giggled from the bed. “She went to a dance.”

“Why didn’t you go to dance?”

“Dances are lame, Olivia.” I said, telling myself the same thing. Once I was satisfied with my curls, I tossed the bottle in a basket and twirled for Olivia.

She clapped a bit too enthusiastically. “You look pretty, Emmie.”

“Emmie does look pretty.”

The sound of Hayden’s voice brought me to an abrupt stop. He stood in the doorway, dressed in a dark pullover, loose-fitting jeans, and a black baseball cap. Wisps of brown curled out from the sides, adding a boyish charm.

He also had his hands planted behind his back.

“Hey,” I said.

Hayden gave me a lopsided smile before turning to Olivia. “Aunt Liz is baking cookies.”

Her eyes lit up like someone shoved a diamond in her face. “Cookies? Coca-chip?”

“Uh-huh, but isn’t it your bedtime?” asked Hayden. “You probably missed out on the chance.”

“Nooo.” She dragged the word out, eyes wide.

I shook my head, smiling. “So wrong.”

He grinned at me. “Maybe if you hurry, you’ll get to sample some before bed.”

Olivia leapt off the bed and hauled butt out of the room. Coca-chip cookies were far more important than her sister. Her departure left us alone… in my bedroom.

Nervously, I picked up the coin and put it in my pocket. “You better hope there are chocolate chip cookies down there, or you’ll hear screams in a minute.”

Hayden laughed. “There are cookies down there. I may do a lot of things, but I don’t lie to children.”

I wondered what he meant by that. “What’s behind your back?” He sat down on the bed. “Come here.”

“What?” I sat beside him, smoothing my hands over the denim skirt.

He moved. A pair of cable-knit gloves lay in his hands, heather gray—always a good color. “I swiped them from Phoebe’s room. It’s going to be cold out there. You’re going to need them. And they’ll keep your hands warmer than the ones you normally wear. I just want you to have fun,” he went on quietly, “and not have to worry about anything. You need to have fun tonight.”

My eyes felt weird, like something had gotten stuck in them. I blinked a couple of times and ignored the way my throat felt tight. “Thank you.”

Hayden nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Hold out your hands.”

“I can do…” His eyes did meet mine. He had that look. Sighing, I held out my hands.

A ghost of a smile appeared. Hayden carefully tugged a glove over my right hand. The tips of his fingers just grazed the skin around my wrists, but it felt like a thousand shocks of electricity. The left hand followed next, and his fingers grazed my skin once more. Fine shivers raced up my arms, then down everywhere else.

I couldn’t get over how reckless he was. Nobody in the house would even dare be so casual about accidentally touching my skin, not even Olivia.

Once he was done, his hands lingered a second or two before he dropped them. “Ready?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Liz already had Olivia in one of the living rooms with a plate of cookies and milk. I wondered how she thought she’d get her to sleep now. The girl was about to have a wicked sugar high.

Thank God I wouldn’t be here to experience it.

We almost made it out of the house without being stopped, but Hayden wanted to grab a bottle of water for the road. In the kitchen, Cromwell leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest. At first he appeared alone, but then Hayden stiffened beside me.

Kurt sat at the table. The hairs all over my body bristled. Kurt tipped his head at us, a smug smile on his face.

“Where you guys heading off to?” Cromwell asked.

“A party one of the kids is holding,” Hayden answered.

“Both of you?”

“Is that a problem?” I asked in probably one of my worst tones ever—the kind that used to earn me a stern look from my father.

Cromwell had the same look on his face, except he wasn’t my father. So I didn’t care. After a long stretch of silence, Cromwell spoke to Hayden. “Your curfew is eleven.”

“What?” Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve never given me a curfew before.”

“You have one now.”

Hayden’s stance changed. His legs were spread, shoulders up. “Eleven is a ridiculous time.”

Cromwell’s gaze briefly flickered to my hands. “Midnight—no later.”

It appeared that Hayden considered pushing the issue, but he just shrugged. He grabbed a bottle of water while I watched Kurt from the corner of my eye. Did he look like someone who’d carve up a rabbit and put a trashed toy car in my locker?

Yes.

I couldn’t leave the kitchen quickly enough, but the deep, almost amused voice stopped both of us in the hallway.

“Have fun,” Kurt called out. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. That goes for both of you.”