CHAPTER EIGHT
morningstar68 06:24:16: we almost lost him. it’s been a terrifying 24 hours. sorry I haven’t been in touch.
michaela666 06:24:57: it’s understandable. but you’re certain he won’t be escaping again.
morningstar68 06:25:08: Impossible. we’ve got him under lock and key.
michaela666 06:25:35: and the man who seems to be pursuing him? is there a chance of rescue?
Morningstar68 06:26:12: he seems more scared of them than he is of us. or, more accurately, he isn’t frightened of us at all. he has no idea what we’re planning for him.
michaela666 06:26:45: Good.
Morningstar68 06:27:10: samhain is days away. It’s almost over.
After being so honest with myself, I didn’t know how to be around Jason anymore. At breakfast, our hands brushed when we reached for the same cereal box. I recoiled as if he’d stung me. He shot me a strange glance, but I avoided his eyes. When Toby arrived to pick me up, I felt strange around him too. I felt guilty when I got into his truck. Here was Toby, a gorgeous boy, like an angel or something. He was blond and tan and strong. He was a Ken doll. How could I be finding another boy attractive when I had this? He leaned across and kissed me, and I felt horrible.
In English, I found myself staring at Jason across the classroom. He talked so much that it seemed normal to watch him. Even after missing a day of school, he was caught up on the reading. He offered his viewpoint on the poem by Robert Herrick we were discussing.
Ms. Campbell said, “It’s hard to explain the word ‘coy,’” she said. “I think the best modern equivalent is that it means a girl is being a tease.”
Jason raised his hand. “I don’t think so,” he said.
Ms. Campbell spread her hands. “Okay, Jason. What do you think it means?” she asked.
“If the virgins in the poem were being a tease, then it would mean that they truly wanted to get married as Herrick urges, but they were just playing hard to get.” Jason was so dark. His hair fell into his huge dark eyes. His face was shaped like a heart.
Ms. Campbell nodded. “I’ve always read it that way.”
“Don’t you think that implies a little bit of cynicism on Herrick’s part?” Jason asked. “If they’re all just teasing these guys, then they’re sort of, well, they’re more world wise than innocent.”
“If Herrick didn’t think the virgins wanted to get married, would he be telling them to do it?” Ms. Campbell asked.
“It’s a didactic poem,” said Jason. “Herrick is giving fatherly advice. He’s telling the virgins what he thinks would be good for them, because he doesn’t think that they know what it is.”
I looked from Jason, who was animated and engaged with Ms. Campbell, completely invested in the meaning of a poem from hundreds of years ago, to Toby, who was flipping idly through the textbook as if he were too bored to be bothered. Toby was the all-American boyfriend. He was what every girl should want. Jason was odd. He was the antihero. He was the guy in the movie that pined over the popular girl but never got her. Why did I find him so appealing? What was wrong with me?
“If what you’re saying is true,” said Ms. Campbell, “then the poem takes on dirty-old-man overtones. Now, Herrick is telling a bunch of teenage girls who haven’t given marriage a second thought to get married?”
“No!” said Jason. “No way. I just think everyone’s motives are pure in the poem. I don’t think the girls are trying to lead anyone on.”
And then our eyes met. Damn it. Was that some sort of hidden message? Was Jason saying that I was leading him on? Anguished, I turned away from him. I gazed at Toby.
“What do you think, Azazel?” asked Ms. Campbell.
“What?” I said.
“Your expression,” she said. “I thought you had a thought.”
“I think... I think that the virgins do want to get married, in some way. But that they also recognize that the alternative is what they know. And they’re used to that. So maybe they don’t want to seize the day just yet.”
Ms. Campbell nodded. She paused. “Azazel, would you mind talking to me at the end of class? It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
“Okay,” I said, terrified, even though she’d said it wasn’t anything bad.
Ms. Campbell addressed the class. “Come on, people, don’t let Jason take over the conversation. What do you think?” No one said anything. “Thinking is cool, I swear,” she said. “I’m not going to stop trying to convince you guys of this.”
At the end of class, I approached Ms. Campbell’s desk. It was covered with stacks of papers, and she was going through them, as usual. She looked up and saw me. “Oh Azazel,” she said. “Thanks for staying. This will only take a minute.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Don’t look so scared,” she said. “I told you it wasn’t anything bad. I, um, I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distracted lately.”
She said it wasn’t bad! “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” she said. “Since Jason got here, I know things have been kind of tumultuous in your home life. It’s understandable. I’m not a counselor, so I’m not qualified to give advice or anything like that. But I just want you to know that I am here, if you need someone to talk to. Someone that’s outside of the whole situation.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She smiled. “You’re a bright kid, Azazel. And there are other things in life besides English that are important.” She considered. “Well, not many. But a few.”
“Thanks, Ms. Campbell,” I said.
French class was easier because Jason wasn’t there. I tried not to let my thoughts wander, but I felt like I couldn’t help it. The worst thing about all of it was that I might hurt Toby. I didn’t want to do that. I cared so deeply about Toby. I didn’t want him to be hurt. And I didn’t want him to hate me. For the first time, I wondered if it wouldn’t be easier if Jason just wasn’t there. But I knew that wasn’t true. I couldn’t sacrifice Jason’s safety, because I was confused about my love life.
Still, after French, I just couldn’t bear the thought of facing him in history class. I knew my dad would notice if I wasn’t there. I knew I was going to get in trouble. But I didn’t care. I told Toby I was going to the bathroom, and then I left the school.
Bramford High was situated on a hill that looked down over Route 50. Behind the school, there was a wooded area. There was a path through it. We’d gone walking on it in tenth-grade science when we were learning to type trees from their leaves. I walked out the doors by the gym, crossed the parking lot, and went into the woods. I just needed to be alone. I needed to think. There had to be some way that I could just erase the feelings I had for Jason.
I couldn’t have them! They were ruining everything. I tried to think of ways that I could stop thinking about Jason. Maybe I didn’t have a crush on him anyway. Maybe I just needed to know who he was and where he came from. Maybe I couldn’t get him out of my head because he was a mystery that I couldn’t solve. Maybe if I figured it out, all of these weird, annoying feelings would dissolve.
But I didn’t know how I was going to do that. I wandered aimlessly down the path, staring at the trees. It was a gray day. The sky hung oppressively over the woods. The trees were losing their leaves. Just a few weeks ago, they’d been alive with brilliant reds and yellows. Now the few that were left were mostly brown. The atmosphere mirrored my mood. Bleak. Colorless.
I couldn’t get Jason to just tell me about his past. He was way too tightlipped for that. And I didn’t know of anyone else who could fill in the missing pieces for me. Even if understanding Jason would banish the feelings, I probably would never be able to understand him.
And what was worse, I didn’t even know if that would work. Jason was entrenched in my subconscious now. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to stop thinking about him.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear the man approach. I didn’t see
him.
He was just behind me suddenly, one arm around my waist, his hand over my mouth. “Don’t scream,” he whispered in my ear.
I knew his voice. The British accent. It was Hallam. The man from my house. The man who’d showed me the picture of Jason. I tried to scream anyway, but his hand muffled my voice. I bit his hand.
He yanked it away, letting go of me for a split second. I tried to scream then, tried to run, but he was too fast for me. Lightning fast, he pinned me against a tree, his hand at my throat.
“Don’t scream,” he said again, and there was menace in his voice now.
My mouth went dry. What was Hallam going to do to me? Maybe Jason was right. Maybe it was dangerous for him to stay in Bramford. Then again, maybe I was an idiot for wandering around in the woods by myself. Was I crazy?
“Okay?” Hallam asked.
His hand barely let me breathe. I nodded.
Slowly, Hallam removed his hand. I didn’t scream. I didn’t move. I hoped he wouldn’t hurt me.
Hallam stared me down. He looked very similar to the last time I’d seen him. He was wearing the same clothes. But he still looked very proper and tailored. Every inch an English gentleman. His appearance clashed with the way Jason reacted to him. Jason said that Hallam had committed such atrocities that Jason couldn’t speak about them. Which was real? The clean-cut, well-dressed man or the terrifying, dangerous tracker?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Hallam.
I didn’t know if I believed him.
“I’ve been watching Jason. I’ve been watching him with you. He seems happy here.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Do you think he’s happy?”
“He’s—he’s afraid. Of you,” I said. But maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. Maybe it made Jason look weak. Oh God, what was Hallam going to do?
“But that’s the only thing that’s making him unhappy? Me?”
“I-I guess so.”
“I want you to give him a message,” said Hallam. “From me. Will you do that?”
So he was going to let me go? Good. “Yes,” I choked out. As long as he wasn’t going to hurt me or torture me or kill me or—
“Tell him that from now on, as long as I can help it, he’s got a clean slate. He’ll know what that means. Will you do that?”
I nodded.
“All right, then,” he said. “You can go.” He stepped back from me.
I was stupid. I was crazy. I was begging to be flayed alive. But I couldn’t help it. The question ripped out of me. “Is he really your brother?”
Hallam laughed. “In a way.”
That had gone okay. “What way? Who are you? Who’s after him?”
Hallam didn’t laugh again. Instead he leaned close to me. His voice was deep and rumbling, with a tinge of threat, “Run away, little girl. You don’t want to spend any more time with me than you already have.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. I flew out of the woods, over the parking lot, and back into the school.
Once inside, I didn’t know what to do. I’d skipped history, but I’d only been gone for fifteen minutes. What was I going to do now? Should I go back to class? I didn’t know if I’d feel safe anywhere else. I stood inside the door, breathing heavily, totally undecided about my next course of action. In a flash of inspiration, it came to me.
I went to the nurse. “I’ve been throwing up in the bathroom,” I said, “but I feel better now. Can I have a pass to class?”
She eyed me a little suspiciously, but she did what I said.
Clutching my pass, I slid into history class and handed my father the slip of paper the nurse had written for me. He gave me a concerned look but didn’t make an issue out of it.
At lunch, I found Jason immediately. He was sitting alone at a table, the way he usually did. I sat down with him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me. I never sat with Jason at lunch.
I told him about meeting Hallam in the woods and what Hallam had said. I left out why I’d skipped history in the first place. I didn’t want Jason to know I had a crush on him. Jason probably didn’t think of me in that way anyhow. I was sure that Jason would want to be with a girl who was deeper and smarter than me. He deserved someone of the same caliber as himself.
Jason reacted angrily when he found out that I’d seen Hallam, but after I told him what Hallam had said, he got quiet.
“What does that mean, a clean slate?” I asked.
“He’s telling me that they’re going to leave me alone,” Jason said. “I don’t know if I believe him.”