Evil Returns (8 page)

Neither of them wanted Eleanor.

They wanted her.

Devnee stroked the new thick cloud of dark hair on her head as if accepting a different crown. She ducked her head modestly. She smiled her gentlest smile. She said, “That’s so sweet of you.”

She thought,
Valentine Sweetheart.
The most beautiful girl. The most loved. The most photographed.

I’ll need a really special dress. Something in pale pink, something with ribbons.

I’ll need a date. Which boy should I take? Trey or William?

She smiled. The joys of being beautiful were like a great basket overflowing with goodies. A nomination here, a handsome boy there, a mirror on this side, a camera soon to go off on that.

They were emerging from the cafeteria into the hallway. The fluorescent lights went strangely dim, and a dark path centered itself on the floor. People shivered slightly in the sudden chilly draft.

The filmy gold and black overlay of Devnee’s skirt lifted, and swirled, and settled.
He’s here. He’s in school with me. He’s in my mind, even now, he’s reading it, knowing it.

Eleanor said, “Then you accept the nomination?”

“Of course,” said Devnee graciously.

The vampire’s laughter, like a maniac with a knife, rose up out of the floor. The rest also heard, and momentarily froze, but then they shrugged, thinking it was nothing, perhaps distant breaking glass.

But it was not nothing.

It was him, and he was here.

A tiny foolish sentence flew back from her memory: a tiny foolish wrong sentence she had allowed herself to think, and now it banged inside her head like metal striking metal, clashed and shouted up inside the thoughts where the vampire could live anytime he chose: I owe him.

She had thought it, and it counted.

I owe him, she had said.

And already he had come to collect the debt.

M
RS. CORT SMILED AT
the English class. Her smile lingered on Devnee. Even when Victoria said something of great brilliance, Mrs. Cort was hardly distracted. There were only a few minutes left in the period when she said, “Please pass your reports forward. As you know, this counts for one quarter of your grade this marking period.”

The usual moans and groans mixed with the shuffling and slapping of papers being passed down the rows.

Devnee’s heart missed a beat. She had forgotten to finish her English paper. She had had the rough draft done several days ago, but last night … what with everything she had to think about … well …

“Devnee?” said Mrs. Cort. “I don’t seem to have a paper from you.”

Devnee opened her new eyes very wide. She bit her lip in the desperate sweet way that worked so well for Aryssa. Of course, Aryssa didn’t have Mrs. Cort. And Mrs. Cort was so solid and sensible. But it was worth a try. Devnee said anxiously, “Oh—I’m so sorry—I—do you think I could pass it in tomorrow? Please?”

“Well …” said the teacher.

“I have my rough draft done,” said Devnee. “I tried so hard, Mrs. Cort. But my computer crashed and I didn’t get it printed out.”

“You should have e-mailed me,” said William. “I would have printed it for you, Devnee.”

“She hasn’t really been in town that long,” said Victoria. “I mean, it hasn’t been easy for Devnee, Mrs. Cort, getting into the rhythm of things.”

“It’s all right, Devnee,” said the teacher understandingly. “These things happen.”

The class divided, into those who thought it very fair that a beautiful girl should be allowed an extra day, and those who thought it very cruel that rules were bent for beauty.

They will never bend the rules for Aryssa again, thought Devnee suddenly. Aryssa will have to get her papers in on time and pass her tests and do her lab sheets. Nobody will make excuses for her and nobody will forgive her.

She felt afraid for Aryssa. How would Aryssa stand up to it—she who had always been protected by her looks?

Devnee’s heart hardened. Her arteries and veins changed, too, becoming metallic and sterile.

She remembered Aryssa that day. Telling Trey she’d been nice only to get a lab partner to do the scut work for her. Telling Trey the trouble with being nice was that people expected you to go on being nice, even when you were bored to death with it and them. She remembered Trey and Aryssa laughing.

The hardness in her did not quite feel human, it was so steely.

But then, I’m not quite human, she thought. I’m a makeover from a vampire.

The room whirled and spun, as if gravity were letting go of her, as her shadow had let go of her. She would go into some sick horrible orbit occupied by vampires and dark paths, she would—

How silly, she said to herself. Silly, silly dreams. I’m beautiful because I’m growing up at last. Blossoming. New shampoo. Vampires, indeed. What nonsense.

She tossed her hair and felt the beautiful thick curls of it settle on her lovely slim shoulders, felt the eyes of her class turning toward her. She gripped the desk to steady herself, and returned the steady gazes of her classmates. They were surveying her. Admiring. Enjoying. Feasting their eyes on her beauty.

Feasting,
thought Devnee, and she gagged.

How did it happen? What did he do, exactly? Is Aryssa all right?

How much red there suddenly seemed to be in the room. Red fingernails, red jewelry, red skirts, and somewhere, red blood.

I want to be beautiful, but I don’t want—

Well, it probably wasn’t
really
like that. He probably didn’t
really
—

English ended.

Her silly twisted daydream and dark fantasies ended.

Victoria and William smiled at her. She basked in it. She had never had a day in which the world came to her rescue and smiled back. Never a day in which there was such pleasure just to be alive.

She stood up gracefully, smoothing her pretty skirt, readying herself to join them.

Victoria and William leaned against each other, laughed together, wrapped arms around each other, and headed in tandem for their next class. She had not seen them as a pair, was certainly not expecting the jolt of jealousy that ran through her.

She gritted her teeth but stopped that immediately, knowing it could not be a beautiful expression. She whirled to find Trey. Trey would be alone now that there was no Aryssa here.

But Trey had caught up to Victoria and William. He bounced alongside them, a jock puppy tagging along.

Devnee never forced herself on people, but she knew her beauty did no good unless people were looking at it. She rushed after them, speeding past, and then slowing herself, lingering like the end of a dance. And sure enough, their haste ended, the twosome softened, self-interest dwindled. They feasted their eyes on Devnee.

“What’s everybody doing after school?” said William.

“Guess I’d better check on Aryssa,” said Trey, running up the wall to leave his shoe prints.

“Is she sick, do you think?” said Victoria worriedly.

Trey admired his shoe prints. “Nah. She had an English paper, too, you know. She’s always sick the day a paper is due.” Trey laughed. William and Victoria laughed.

They still think Aryssa is beautiful, thought Devnee, so they still forgive her for being dumb. What will happen when Trey goes over there?

She imagined Trey, staring in confusion, perhaps in horror, at the thing Aryssa would be now. She imagined him reaching out to touch her, heal her, and then shrinking back because of the change in her. She imagined him seeing something on her throat, frowning, leaning forward, saying,
Aryssa, what happened to you?

And Aryssa.

Would she know what had happened? Would she say,
A vampire came in the night. Devnee sent him. Remember the creepy girl who used to live in the mansion? Well, another creepy one lives there now. Devnee chose me, Devnee picked me out and ruined me and took all I had, Trey!

And Trey. What would he do next? Would he run away from her? Would he turn on Devnee? Would he tell the rest of the world? Would he shout:
Do you know how she got that beauty? Do you know the trade she made?

Devnee faltered, touching the wall for support.

Terror infected her lungs like a parasite.

It can’t be real. There is no vampire. There is no such thing as a vampire. I don’t believe in vampires. Nothing happened to Aryssa; she just didn’t get her paper written.

Time had changed character for Devnee. It had the capacity to absorb her, like the center of a cyclone. While she had been in the cyclone, evil thoughts whirling, William and Victoria had moved on, and Trey left for his car. She was alone in the hall with Nina. Nasty Nina with nothing but money and sweaters. I must not fall into my thoughts like that again, Devnee told herself. I must keep my thoughts on beauty and on myself.

Nina and Devnee had to turn a corner, enter a stairwell, head down another wing. When they passed a girls’ room, Devnee ducked inside. She had to check the mirror. See if she was still beautiful.

Yes.

The beauty had not gone anywhere.

Nina said, “You’re exactly like Aryssa, you know.”

Devnee flinched.

“Always going to the girls’ room to look in a mirror. Isn’t it enough to be beautiful, Devnee? Do you have to have proof ten times a day? What do girls like you see in that mirror? Why don’t you feel safe? It’s going to last, you know. Either you’re beautiful or you aren’t.”

Devnee laughed nervously.

She went to the frosted glass window of the girls’ room and tilted it inward and open for fresh air.

It was snowing lightly. New-fallen snow blanketed the old ugly crust blackened by car exhaust.

Like me, thought Devnee Fountain. I, too, am new-fallen.

I sold Aryssa.

Was it worth it?

The very second she questioned whether the beauty was worth it, her beauty began to slide off. Like a mud mask. It peeled away from her skin and slid toward the window.

No! she thought, putting her hands up to hold her cheeks, hold on to her beauty. You gave it to me, you can’t take it back!

If it isn’t worth it to you, I’ll give it to somebody else,
the vampire said from right inside her mind. She had forgotten that he shared it with her now. That he could live there if he chose.

If I’m not real,
said the vampire,
you aren’t beautiful anyway, are you?

She turned frantically toward the window, where outside the world lay dim and wintry.

You’ve insulted me,
said the vampire.
Insulted my gift.

She could see his dark path well—a shadow cast where there was nothing to cast it.

It’s real, you’re real!
she said to the dark path.
I take it back, it was all real!

Her face was half on, half off. She could not turn back to Nina or look around toward the row of mirrors above the sinks.

You are a vampire,
she said to him.
You are real.

Inside her head the vampire raised his eyebrows.

Her beauty trembled, unsure, not quite leaving, not quite staying.

And I really gave you Aryssa,
she admitted.
And it was worth it.

Her beauty returned. It returned with a permanency that was solid and sure. It would never slide off again. She had Aryssa’s beauty and the vampire had Aryssa.

And it was worth it, she said to herself firmly.

D
EVNEE WALKED SLOWLY TO
her locker and then slowly to the lobby. People smiled at her. They continued to remark on how nice she looked today—was it her birthday or something?

Devnee had never been the center of anything. Even at her own birthday parties, it always felt as if the little girls she had invited were being polite.

Today she was the center of it all.

She had not known that beauty was literally pivotal: that heads would turn, bodies would turn, eyes would turn—all to look at Devnee Fountain.

She had not known how differently she would stand and pose; how her chin would lift, and her head would tilt, and her eyes would tease.

Usually she could leave school—any school, the last one, this one—in a few seconds.

Today, what with talking and waving and smiling and flirting, it took a long time. There was so much to do, so much to say.

This is how perfect people live, thought Devnee, stunned.

They’re busy. Busy being beautiful.

She laughed with the sheer joy of it and, listening to the sound of her laugh, realized that it, too, was different; not just an ordinary everyday garden-variety laugh—it was a beautiful cascade of joy. Everybody laughed with her, and the afternoon was free and soft and lovely.

And the real Devnee—her soul, her personality—was at last where it belonged: in a perfect, matching body.

She knew now why they had bought the house with the tower. It was because she, Devnee, was destined for beauty. The vampire had simply straightened out an error of birth. It was only right and just.

Finally the crush of students in the lobby dwindled, as people went on to sports events, or orthodontist appointments, or the pizza place.

And Trey came back to school.

She saw his car coming to the front drive. Such an ordinary car for such a fabulous boy. A dull four-door sedan. Matronly. Middle-aged. And yet it didn’t matter, because with Trey on the inside it was incredibly exciting and wonderful.

He parked right in front of the front door.

Not allowed.

Students had a student parking lot. Even disabled students had to park down below and come in the bottom entry.

She wondered if handsome boys, like beautiful girls, could get away with things. Was Trey parking there because he knew nobody would tow his car?

Trey came up the stairs, opened the lobby door, and looked around.

He looked wrong.

He looked off balance.

He looked—well—spooked.

“Trey?” said Devnee.

He seemed to see her with difficulty. As if focusing his eyes were hard. As if she were coming and going from his sight. He walked over unsteadily and said, “Devnee. I’m so glad somebody’s still here. I just went to see Aryssa. She’s—she’s—”