Hades (3 page)

“Let’s hear your great idea then … .”

“I’m going as Tinker Bel .”

“As who?”

“The fairy from
Peter Pan
.”

“This isn’t fair,” Madison whined. “We made a pact to al

go as Playboy Bunnies!”

“Bunnies are old.” Mol y tossed her head. “Not to mention

trashy.”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but aren’t the costumes

supposed to be scary?”

“Oh, Bethie,” Savannah said with a sigh. “Have we taught

you nothing?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Refresh my memory?”

“Basical y the whole thing is just one massive—,” Hal ie

began.

“Let’s just say it’s an opportunity for us to mingle with the

opposite sex,” Mol y cut in, shooting Hal ie a sharp look.

“Your costume needs to be scary
and
sexy.”

“Did you know Hal oween used to be about Samhain?” I

said. “People were real y scared of it.”

“Who’s Sam Hen?” Hal ie looked baffled.

“Not who … what,” I said. “It’s different in every culture.

But essential y, people believe it’s the one night of the year

when the world of the dead meets the world of the living;

when the dead can walk among us and possess our

bodies. People would dress up to trick them into staying

away.”

The group stared at me with newfound respect.

“Oh my God, Bethie.” Savannah shivered. “Way to freak

us al out.”

“Do you remember when we had that seance in seventh

grade?” Abigail asked. The others nodded enthusiastical y

as they recal ed the event.

“You had a what!” I spluttered, barely able to disguise my

disbelief.

“A seance, it’s when you …”

“I know what it is,” I said. “But you shouldn’t mess around

with that stuff.”

“I told you, Abby!” Hal ie exclaimed. “I told you it was

dangerous. Remember how the door slammed shut?”

“Yeah, only because your mom shut it,” Madison hit back.

“She couldn’t have. She was in bed asleep the whole

time.”

“Whatever. I’m thinking we should try it again on Friday.”

Abigail waggled her eyebrows mischievously. “What do you

say, girls? Who’s in?”

“Not me,” I said resolutely. “I’m not getting mixed up in

that.”

The looks they exchanged suggested they were

unconvinced by my refusal.

“THEY’RE so childish,” I complained to Xavier as we

walked to French class together. Doors slammed,

announcements rang over the loudspeaker, and chatter

flowed freely around us, but Xavier and I were locked in our

own world. “They want to hold a seance and go dressed as

bunnies.”

“What kind of bunnies?” he asked suspiciously.

“Playboy, I think. Whatever that means.”

“That sounds about right.” Xavier laughed. “But don’t let

them talk you into anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“They’re my friends.”

“So what?” He shrugged. “If your friends walked off a cliff,

would you do it too?”

“Why would they walk off a cliff?” I asked in alarm. “Is

someone having problems at home?”

Xavier laughed. “It’s just an expression.”

“It’s sil y,” I told him. “Do you think I should go as an

angel? Like in the film version of
Romeo and Juliet
?”

“There would be a certain irony in that,” Xavier said,

smirking. “An angel posing as a human posing as an angel.

I like it.”

Mr. Col ins glared at us as we arrived and took our seats.

He seemed to resent our closeness and I couldn’t help but

wonder whether his history of three failed marriages had

left him a little jaded about love.

“I hope the two of you wil descend from your love bubble

long enough to learn something today,” he sniped cuttingly

and the other kids snickered. Embarrassed, I ducked my

head to avoid eye contact with them.

“It’s al right, sir,” Xavier replied. “The bubble’s been

engineered to al ow us to learn from within it.”

“You’re very amusing, Woods,” Mr. Col ins said. “But the

classroom is not the place for romance. When it al ends in

heartbreak, your grades wil pay the price.
L’amour est

comme un sablier, avec le coeur remplir le vide du

cerveau.
”

I recognized the quote from the French writer Jules

Renard. Translated it meant: “Love is like an hourglass,

with the heart fil ing up as the brain empties.” I hated his

smug certainty, as if he knew for a fact our relationship was

doomed. I opened my mouth to protest, but Xavier touched

my hand under the table and leaned across to whisper in

my ear.

“It’s probably not the best idea to get fresh with the

teachers who’l be grading our final papers.”

He turned back to Mr. Col ins, putting on his best

classpresident voice. “We understand, sir, thanks for your

concern.”

Mr. Col ins looked satisfied and went back to writing

subjunctive verbs on the blackboard. I couldn’t resist poking

my tongue out at his back.

Hal ie and Savannah, who were also in my French class,

caught up with me at the lockers. They looped their arms

affably through mine.

“What have you got now?” Hal ie asked.

“Math,” I replied suspiciously. “Why?”

“Perfect,” Savannah said. “Walk with us.”

“Is something wrong?”

“We just want to talk to you. Y’know, have a girl-to-girl

chat.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, wracking my brain to think what I

might have done to warrant this strange intervention.

“About?”

“It’s about you and Xavier,” Hal ie blurted out. “Look,

you’re not gonna like hearing this, but we’re your friends

and we’re worried about you.”

“Why are you worried?”

“It’s just not healthy for you guys to spend so much time

together,” Hal ie said expertly.

“Yeah,” Savannah chimed in. “It’s like you’re joined at the

hip or something. I never see you apart. Wherever Xavier

is, you’re right behind him. Wherever you are, he’s there …

all the frigging time
.”

“Is that that a bad thing?” I asked. “He’s my boyfriend; I

want
to spend time with him.”

“Of course you do, but it’s too much. You need to get

some
distance
.” Hal ie emphasized the word
distance
as if

it were a medical term.

“Why?” I looked at them dubiously, wondering if Mol y had

put them up to this or if it truly was their personal opinion. I’d

been friends with these girls al through summer, but it stil

felt a little early for them to be dispensing relationship

advice. On the other hand, I’d only been a teenage girl for

less than a year. In some way, I felt I was at the mercy of

their experience. It was true that Xavier and I were close,

any fool could see that. The question was, were we

unnaturally
close? It didn’t feel unhealthy given everything

we’d been through together. Of course, these girls could

never know about our struggles.

“It’s a researched fact,” Savannah broke through my train

of thought. “Look, I can show you.” She reached into her

bag and yanked out a wel -thumbed copy of
Seventeen

magazine. “We found a quiz for you to take.”

She opened the glossy cover and flipped to a dog-eared

page. The image showed a young couple sitting in chairs

facing opposite directions but bound together by chains

around their waists and ankles. The expression on their

faces was one of confusion and dismay. The quiz was

cal ed, “Are you in a co-dependent relationship?”

“We’re not that bad,” I protested. “It’s about how we feel,

not how much time we spend together. Besides, I don’t

think a magazine quiz can measure feelings.”

“
Seventeen
gives pretty reliable advice—,” began

Savannah hotly.

“Okay, don’t take the quiz,” Hal ie cut in. “Just answer a

few questions, okay?”

“Shoot,” I said.

“What’s your favorite footbal team?”

“Dal as Cowboys,” I said without hesitation.

“And why’s that?” Hal ie asked.

“Because it’s Xavier’s favorite team.”

“I see,” Hal ie said knowingly. “And when was the last

time you did something without Xavier?” I didn’t like the way

she sounded like the prosecutor in a court case.

“I do plenty of stuff without Xavier,” I said dismissively.

“Real y? So where is he right now?”

“He has a first-aid training session in the gym,” I said

brightly. “They’re going over CPR, but he already learned it

in ninth grade during a water-safety program.”

“Right,” Savannah said. “And what’s he doing at lunch?”

“He has a water-polo meeting,” I replied. “They have a

new junior that Xav wants to train to play defense.”

“And dinner?”

“He’s coming over to make barbecue ribs.”

“Since when do you like ribs?” The girls raised their

eyebrows.

“Xavier likes them.”

“I rest my case.” Hal ie put her face in her hands.

“Okay, I guess we do spend a lot of time together,” I said

grumpily. “But what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not normal is what’s wrong with it,” Savannah

declared, enunciating every word. “Your girlfriends are just

as important. “It’s like we don’t even matter to you anymore.

Al the girls feel the same, even Mol y.”

I stopped short. Final y the fog lifted and the purpose of

this discussion became clear to me. The girls were feeling

neglected. It was true that I always seemed to be declining

their invitations to go out in favor of spending time with

Xavier. I’d always thought I just preferred spending

downtime with my family, but maybe I had been insensitive

without realizing it. I valued their friendship and on the spot

vowed to be more attentive.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Thanks for being honest with me. I

promise I’l do better.”

“Great.” Hal ie beamed. “Wel , you can start by joining in

the girls-only event we’ve got planned for the Hal oween

party.”

“Of course,” I agreed, eager to make amends. “I’d love

to. What is it?” I had the sense even before I’d finished the

question that I was on the brink of fal ing into a trap.

“We’re going to commune with the dead, remember?”

Savannah said. “No boys al owed.”

“A seance,” Hal ie said brightly. “How awesome is that?”

“Awesome,” I reiterated flatly. I could think of plenty of

words to describe what they had in mind, but
awesome
just

wasn’t one of them.

3

Unholy Night

FRIDAY came around faster than I expected. I wasn’t

especial y looking forward to the Hal oween party. I’d much

rather have spent a night at home with Xavier, but I didn’t

think it fair to impose my reclusiveness on him.

Gabriel shook his head in surprise when he saw my

costume, which consisted of a white satin sheath dress,

gladiator sandals borrowed from Mol y, and a pair of short,

fluffy synthetic wings I’d rented from the local costume shop.

I was a parody of myself, and Gabriel, as I’d guessed, was

unimpressed. It must have seemed like some kind of

sacrilege to him.

“It’s a little obvious, don’t you think?” he asked wryly.

“Not at al ,” I replied. “If anyone suspected us of being

superhuman, this should throw them off the scent.”

“Bethany, you are a messenger of the Lord, not a

detective in a B-grade spy movie,” Gabriel said. “Try to

remember that.”

“Would you like me to change?” I sighed.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Ivy said, patting my hand. “The

costume is lovely. After al , it’s just a high school party.” She

gave Gabriel a pointed look designed to bring the

discussion to a close. Gabriel shrugged. Even though he

spent his days disguised as a music teacher at Bryce