For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) (4 page)

    
As if on cue, Celeste laughs at something Amber said that I’m not listening to and my heart sinks.  Are they closer now?  Am I going to lose Amber to Celeste if Celeste and I can’t patch the hole between us?

    
Emily leans over me and takes a spoonful of my pudding.  “Fabric shopping for costumes tonight?”

    
I smile at her.  I’ll always have Em.  She’s a constant, like Dad.  “You bet.”

    
Celeste wrinkles her nose.  “Costumes?”

    
Emily nods.  “For AniCon.”

    
Celeste nibbles her lip, her eyes shifting back and forth between us.  “What’s that?”

    
Amber gives her a wide-eyed look, as if she’s crazy for even asking and it makes me love Amber more.  “It’s an anime convention!  Awesome cosplay, debut shows, tons of fun vendors.  Em and Nett go every year.  You should see the stuff they brought back last year!”

    
Emily nods.  “You can come, too, if you want, but you have to dress up as your favorite anime character.”

    
“Yeah,” Celeste says, drawing out the word.  “Have fun with that.”

    
I lift my chin.  “We will.”

    
Celeste turns to Amber.  “You’re not going to that thing too, are you?”

    
Amber hunches her shoulders, looking sheepish.  “I thought about it.  But, I have a state meet that weekend.”

    
“It’s okay,” I say.  “We might go to another one in the spring.”

    
Amber grins like I’ve given her the key to the
TARDIS
.  “Really?  That would be so cool! I’ve always wanted to go with you guys.  It looks so fun.”

    
Rising to a non-existent challenge, Celeste then says, “Not to rain on your Geek-Love fest, but Amber has a meet tonight.  Are you going to support her or go fabric shopping?”

    
I ball my fist under the table.  Urg!  I hate how she does that!  If Amber wanted me to go, she should have said something.  I glance at Amber who shrugs, trying to look like she doesn’t care, but I can tell she does.  Her parents are always working late and never come to support her.  It’s up to us to cheer her on.

    
Amber stares down at her lunch tray.  “It would be nice if you could all come support me, but if you’re already busy…”

    
Celeste puts her hand to her chest.  “I’m going, of course.”

    
I glance at Em who tips her head, indifferent.  Over time, she has learned to share me with my other friends.  “I guess we can go shopping tomorrow.”

    
I let out an exhale of relief.  “I’ll be there.” 

    
Turning my attention to my book, I get back to trying to study, but a moment later Amber interrupts me.  “Hey, Nett, did you notice Brandon was completely ogling you in chem?”

    
I scowl at the Spanish verb tenses in front of me.  Brandon gives me the creeps.  “No, he wasn't.  He was trying to copy my lab answers.”

    
“Would it kill you to think someone actually thought you were cute?”  Amber demands.  “I mean come on, Netti, just look at this gorgeous head of hair.”  She shoves both her hands into my hair and pluffs out my auburn tresses.

    
I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of having my hair played with, but the bell rings, making me jump.  Amber drops my hair.  “Oops, gotta go!”  She practically runs out the doors in an effort to get to her next class which, of course, is gym.

    
I go much slower, I have Spanish next.

Jeanette

    
From kindergarten to graduation, students are taught the history of Carver Hall Park.  The forest and homestead were once a huge estate owned by Joseph Carver, a Catholic entrepreneur who struck it rich during the industrial revolution.  When he died, he willed his estate between the state of Connecticut and his local church.  The resulting properties became the park and Mary Magda Academy.  Carver Hall Park is as much a part of Mary Magda's identity as my father's station as principal has on my social life.

    
But, just because my father is the principal and we live in the headmaster’s house – making the park my backyard – doesn’t mean I hate Carver Hall Park any less.  Especially today.

    
I should have studied, then I wouldn't have bombed my test and Dad wouldn't have grounded me and driven me straight home.

    
Standing at the edge of the forest behind my house and staring at the imposing black trees, I sigh.  It's early September and the plant life looks unnaturally alive.  The air is still, but the needles on the taller-than-houses evergreens quiver with anticipation of something momentous.   And the leaves on the ancient oak, maple, and beech trees sparkle quicksilver in the afternoon sunlight. 

    
I swallow hard.  Carver Hall Park has always had something weird about it.  I've always felt uneasy standing close to these trees, even before Timmy's mysterious disappearance.  It always felt like I was…being watched.  As if, just out of view, something was moving in the underbrush.  And now, after he disappeared, the forest scares the hell out of me even more because it ate him alive.

    
I pace, my eyes scanning the thick carpet of last year’s orange-brown needles, searching for the lost path.   At one point in time, there had been a wide, well-worn path between Mary Magda Academy and the headmaster's house, but – like everything else left untended in the park – the woods have reclaimed it.  In the seven years since I last used the path, the ferns and rhododendrons have grown so thick around the edge of the forest that you would never know there was once a way past this impenetrable wall.

    
I take a step toward the nearest tree and bite my lip.   Amber's meet should be over before Dad gets home.  If I cut through the forest I can get to the meet on time and back again without him even knowing.  I look down at my balled fists and widespread feet.  I look like I'm about to combat a wild animal.  Shaking my head, I straighten.

    
I’ve always been the goodie-goodie, never broken the rules.  I’m the principal’s kid, for heaven’s sake.  But doing this?  It’s not only breaking Dad’s rules, it’s breaking my own, pushing the comfort zone.  It’s thrilling.  It’s terrifying.  Will I get lost in the thousands of acres like we did that night?  Will something chase me down unknown paths?  …Will I finally stumble on Timmy’s long-dead corpse or his ghost?  I don’t want to think about it. 

    
Instead, I think of Amber.  She will appreciate this, and a good friend would do this for someone they love – push the limits.  So, I push.  Heart pounding and pulse like fire under my skin, I run headlong through the underbrush, hoping if I rush through this barrier, my feet will find the path and I’ll get to the academy.

    
But the forest pushes at me, as if trying to heave me out.  I push back, determined to break through – shoving at branches, kicking at vines, breathing hard and squirming through tight places.  And then, the forest is eating me.  Eating me like it ate Timmy.  Not pushing me out but pushing me in on all sides – stabbing into my skin, clawing at my hair and clothes, folding me under the leaves like it’s trying to bury me.  I hold my breath despite the fact I’m panting, as if that would help me squeeze through.

    
Something snatches at my braid, pulls it.  My breath escapes my lips and my legs go heavy.  Someone?  Something?  I can’t turn around.  I can’t look.  There’s almost certainly a thing behind me, tugging at me, tasting me.  It’s going to take me, too.  I rush forward – the thing behind rips at my hair pulling it out, making my scalp scream.  I don’t care.  I keep going, keep pushing.

    
They’re reaching out and spinning me for a game of tag, making me dizzy.  Making the world spin and whirl and I swear I hear them whispering and laughing.  And...

    
And…

    
I let out a choked scream…and run.

    
By the time I struggle into a clearing large enough to accommodate my whole body, I'm drenched in sweat.  I stand gasping, tears in my eyes. 

    
When I’ve caught my breath and collected myself, I glance over my shoulder.  No one’s there.  I can’t see any indication of civilization, no break in the trees.  Now that I’ve calmed and the forest isn’t suffocating me, I see the clearing is a lot bigger than I originally thought.  There's a yellow bit of dusky light poking through the canopy of deep green leaves.  I walk into the large, triangular patch of gold and blink.  Standing here, I can barely see into the forest, it's too bright.

    
How long have I been in the park?  I look up, trying to see the sky, but the green of the leaves above is all encompassing.  At least it’s still day.  Should I turn back?  Go home?  I’m not entirely sure where home is.  I know I’ve been turned around by my blind panic.

    
I examine the ground.  No sign of the long lost path to the Academy.  But…I think the school is straight ahead.

    
I take a step forward.  I need to keep going.  I need to get out of here, but I need to beat all this craziness I’m making up in my head. There’re no vampires or werewolves or zombies here.  No secret whispers, no pursuers.  It’s all my imagination.  There’s a very human, non-supernatural reason for Timmy’s disappearance and I’m perfectly safe.

    
Am I?  I glance around again.  I still feel like I’m being watched.  I reach up and run my fingers through my hair.  My braid has been ripped loose, I’m missing my ribbon.  I grasp the back of my neck and drag in a ragged breath.  “Calm down, Jeanette.  Use your brain.”

    
Brain.  I glance down at myself.  After being caught on prickers and twigs, branches and briars, my uniform is looking pretty ragged.  I should have changed before I came out.  Hoping to prevent further damage, I pause a moment to take off my knee socks and roll up my uniform skirt to indecency levels.   I can only imagine what Dad will think if he comes home and my uniform is magically ruined from “vegging” on the couch all afternoon. 

    
A pang of guilt tugs at my heart.  I really should be serving out my sentence like a good daughter, but I promised Amber I'd come.  And I can’t break another promise to a friend.

    
But I can’t be much of a friend if I end up dead like Timmy.

    
Stop it, Jeanette.

    
Find the path, get the hell out of here.

Tamrin

    
I shift foot to foot on the tree branch and fix my eyes back on Lovely.  She’s muttering to herself, like a crazy woman.

    
“Find the path, get the hell out of here.”

    
Path?
  I straighten and glance around, meeting the eyes of the fae who drove her here.  Large, animalistic gazes meet mine then turn away, paws and hooves shift in the decaying leaves.  The fae are like children scolded.  Enmire shrugs and grins fangs at me.  I give him a meaningful glare that promises a tongue-lashing.  The fae have my leave to play-torture humans when they wander off the paths – it’s the best way to keep them away from things they shouldn’t go near.  But it’s not fair to hide the paths to purposely get a human lost – just so they can torture them.

    
Especially when the human ends up wandering here.  This is supposed to be a secret place.  Humans shouldn’t be here.  Roxel isn't going to like this.

    
I hold my hand up, making sure the fae understand they are not to touch this human any more, they’ve already done enough damage by chasing her here.

    
Lovely stands from removing her stockings, making light bounce off the thick chestnut waves of hair that flow soft and silky around her shoulders and cascade down her back.  I assume she had it plaited at one point, she normally does.  But, either by the machinations of the fae or some daring twig, she lost the green ribbon she normally wears.  Enmire, knowing my fondness for this particular neighbor, has surrendered it to me.  I have the smooth expanse of ribbon wrapped around my hand. 

    
I slide the ribbon over my lip.  I like the way the silk feels on my skin, how the cocoa and cinnamon scent of her is trapped in my souvenir.  I like that the ribbon echoes the essence of her tresses.  It’s a tease – making me want to touch her hair.

    
She pivots on her toes and the late afternoon light cuts angular swaths across her pronounced cheekbones, her delicate jawline, and her perfect eyebrows – they remind me of a bird in flight.  She pivots again and the light catches the angle of her slightly aquiline nose and the full set of her rosy lips.  Her mossy green eyes twinkle with golden leopard spots behind her spectacles, her pale chest heaves in panic beneath her white shirt, her long, muscular legs quiver so badly that the pleats of her skirt sway.