Read Fearless Page 22


  My mom is not the type to freak out about little stuff. She was very calm when she picked me up at the nurse’s office, and she didn’t say much on the ride home. But after we parked in the driveway, she turned to me.

  “Anything you care to share with me?”

  I opened wide and innocent eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve never been the fainting type or the faking type. The nurse says you don’t have a fever, and you said you’re not feeling sick. Is there… something else going on, something I should know about?”

  I wasn’t trying to hear my mom think, but I did pick up a few of her stray theories. “Mom! No! How could you think that?” My face was burning with embarrassment.

  My mother had the good grace to look slightly abashed, even as she defended herself. “Tas, I trust you… but you have a boyfriend now. I think you and Michael are responsible, but you’re still… teenagers. Who fancy themselves in love. It’s not that far-fetched to follow that line of thinking to a logical if unpleasant conclusion.”

  I barely contained an eye-roll that would have gotten me in serious trouble. “I can assure you that this had nothing to do with Michael. And I’m not—we don’t—really, Mom!”

  She shrugged. “Okay, okay. Well, then, what was it? What made you pass out—or nearly?”

  I squirmed a little in my seat. “I was picking up some nasty vibes from a girl who sits near me, and I think it was just too much.” That was true, and right now it was all I wanted to share.

  “What kind of nasty vibes? Are we talking dangerous stuff or teenage girl petty stuff?”

  “I’m not sure,” I replied slowly. “I think just mean girl type of stuff. You know, picking on other kids.”

  She eyed me. “You’d tell me if it were something more?”

  “If it were an emergency situation, and you could do something, I would definitely tell you. I promise.” That much was true. I knew my mother was imagining school shootings or girl gang warfare. What I had seen would really freak her out, and I couldn’t imagine anything she could do to prevent it.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “But remember, Tas—no listening to people. No matter how tempting it might be—it’s not the right thing to do.”

  I nodded, and we went inside, to the cool of the house. I was relieved to be safely home.

  “Why don’t you lie down for a while and see if you feel better afterwards?” my mother suggested.

  I hesitated. If Michael came by and I was asleep, I knew my mom would send him home. On the other hand, I was pretty exhausted by the afternoon.

  “If I do go to sleep, you’ve got to promise to wake me up if Michael stops by. Okay? I really need to talk to him.”

  My mom’s eyes flashed brief hurt. It wasn’t hard for her to guess that I wanted to talk to Michael about what I’d heard and seen this afternoon, and she was feeling left out. I gave her a reassuring smile. “I just want to make sure he knows I’m okay.”

  “All right, I promise,” she said at last.

  I opened my eyes and felt a moment of disorientation. My room was nearly dark, with just the faintest late afternoon light coming through the closed wooden shutters. I was lethargic with sleep, and with a sigh, I rolled over and eyed the clock.

  Five twenty-three! I bolted upright on the bed, giving myself a momentary flashback to the afternoon’s dizziness. I shook it off. Now I was annoyed, either at Michael for not coming over to check on me or at my mother for breaking her promise to wake me.

  Before I could work up too much of a mad, though, my door opened and I saw my mom’s inquisitive face.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake!” she exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, just fine,” I assured her. “Didn’t Michael come by?” I was risking getting a load of mom-sympathy if he hadn’t even called.

  “Yes, he came by,” she began. And as I started to interrupt, she raised her hand between us. “And yes, I tried to wake you up. As a matter of fact, both Michael and I tried. But you were out like a light.”

  I tried not to be disappointed. I couldn’t be mad at anyone, it turned out… except for Nell, who had such an evil mind that it apparently sapped all of my energy.

  “But I knew you wanted to see him, and he was very worried about you, so I took pity on you both and invited him for dinner. He should be here any—” the doorbell rang, and she raised her eyebrows. “That would probably be him now.”

  “I’ll get it!” I bounded off the bed.

  “Hey! Slowly there, kiddo. Don’t forget you were an invalid this afternoon.”

  I rolled my eyes and waved her off. “It was nothing. I’m fine.”

  I dashed to the door and opened it. Michael was standing on the porch, looking off down the block. I had a moment to take him in before he turned to me, and for just a second, I felt weak at the knees again. He was simply gorgeous, and once again, I was amazed that it was me he had chosen.

  When his eyes met mine, I could feel the worry he had been experiencing all afternoon. Without a word, he reached out and pulled me into him. I felt very safe and very grateful.

  He leaned back, still holding me. His fingers grazed over my forehead and along my cheek as his eyes searched my face.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded. “No bruises, no cuts or scrapes…”

  “I was sitting down when it happened, and I never actually went under. It was a second of faintness, and everyone is making much more out of it than it was.”

  He pulled me close again. “I am so sorry. It’s my fault. I’ve felt horrible all afternoon.”

  “What do you mean, your fault? You had nothing to do with it.”

  “I was the one who suggested you listen to Nell. It was something to do with her that knocked you out, wasn’t it? When that girl from your class came in to tell me you had passed out and were going home—” He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on the top of my head, stroking my back. “I knew it had to be something to do with Nell.”

  I leaned back slightly and held up my hand. “Hold on just a minute. I don’t want to get into this here.”

  Opening the front door, I leaned inside. “Mom! How long til dinner?”

  She appeared in the hallway that led to the kitchen. “About half an hour. Why?”

  “Would it be okay if Michael and I went for a quick walk before we eat? I want to get out in the air a little bit.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea after today?”

  “Mom, Michael will be with me the whole time. I promise, if I get even the tiniest bit dizzy, he’ll throw me over his shoulder and bring me home.”

  She smiled. “Okay. Be careful, and be back in half an hour.”

  “I promise.”

  I closed the door behind me and offered Michael my hand. “Shall we?”

  We turned down the sidewalk. “First of all, it wasn’t your fault. It was a good idea, and I would have done it anyway. And it’s not your fault or mine that Nell is evil.”

  “Evil?” he asked, surprised.

  I filled him in on what had transpired that afternoon in History class. I watched his face carefully and was relieved to see not a hint of disbelief there.

  “A knife? Are you sure it was a knife?”

  “Positive. A big and nasty knife.”

  He was very serious now. “I don’t know what to make of it. Could it be just Nell—I don’t know, fantasizing or something?”

  “Well, yuck, even if she’s fantasizing, the girl needs help. And if I had wandered onto this image by chance, I might have thought the same thing. But adding it to what I heard from Amber today, I have to say, no, this was more of a concrete plan than wishful thinking.”

  “So what do we do? Can we tell a teacher or the police or something?”

  I had been mulling this over all afternoon. “I don’t think we can. We’d have to lie in order to do it. I can’t risk telling anyone exactly how I came by this information, even if I thought they might believe me. I considered telling m
y parents, but I’m afraid they’d overreact and pull me out of school. And then probably out of the state.”

  Michael’s brow furrowed. “We definitely don’t want that. So can’t we just say we overheard Nell making these plans?”

  “I don’t even know what the plans are, exactly, except they’re not good. And Nell will know that we never overheard her, because she probably never talked to anyone else about this. Whatever ‘this’ is.”

  “The chanting you mentioned… that was weird. Do you think you remember any of the words? Maybe that has something to do with it.”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “I don’t know. Maybe. I know I can’t tell you any of them right now, but if I heard it again, I might recognize it.”

  He seemed troubled, more so than he had before.

  “What? What are thinking that you don’t want to tell me?” I demanded. I could only feel an usual reticence and reluctance.

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I’ve lived here all my life, and there’s been talk, but I always thought that was all it was. Like tourist hype, you know. My parents always told me it was just that. But they also won’t live in town.”

  “What kind of talk? I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I told you about how the town was started, with King bringing his carnival people here to settle. And he played up the whole mystical angle, remember?”

  “Yeah, you mean like the people in town who boast about being the descendants of the bearded lady or the sword eater?”

  “Right. So the town still plays up that part. You’ve seen the shops downtown, with the crystals and the books and all that stuff?”

  I nodded.

  “If that was it, if it was just play—well, you understand that it brings people in and makes money for the town. Whatever. But there’ve always been undercurrents—rumors and talk—that there’s more to it than that. That maybe there’s still people who take it seriously.”

  I felt a chill run down my spine. “What are we talking about here? Cults?”

  “The occult, definitely. Witchcraft, I guess, for lack of a better word.”

  “Do you know anyone involved in this?”

  He hesitated. “Not really. Like I said, it’s mostly talk. You hear things, but you don’t always buy it.”

  I blew out an exasperated breath. “I feel like you’re hedging. Like there’re things you’re not really saying.”

  Michael had slowed his walk and now he stopped completely and turned to face me. He moved his hands to my shoulders and rubbed my arms.

  “I’m not trying to keep anything from you. I just don’t want to say something that’s going to frighten you, because I’m not even sure it’s true.” He glanced around, seeming almost uneasy. “And call me crazy, but I don’t really want to talk about this out here.”

  I glanced at my watch and sighed. “It’s time to head back for dinner anyway. But do you promise you’ll tell me more later?”

  He smiled in that way he had, with his eyes and his mouth, and leaning into me, dropped the lightest of kisses on my lips. “I promise.”

  My mother had been kind enough to invite Michael for dinner, but she hinted broadly after dessert that I needed an early bedtime after my rough afternoon. Michael took the hint, perhaps a tad too easily for my liking, and after offering to help with the dishes (and my mom turning him down), he made the excuse of homework and said good night.

  I walked him to the door. “Homework?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Actually, it’s true. I do have to finish up some Math problems.”

  “But you promised to tell me more about—the town.”

  He smiled and pulled me out the door with him onto the porch. “I will. But not tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “I guess I can wait.”

  Michael took my face in his hands gently and leaned down to gently touch my lips with his. I moved my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, and his hands dropped to my neck. I opened my mind to him and felt the most heartbreaking tenderness I had ever experienced. The urgency and passion I usually detected were still there, but much farther below the surface, buried under the leftover worry.

  Slowly he pulled back, his hands back on my face, stroking my hair away from my eyes. “Good night,” he whispered. “See you tomorrow.”