Peachville High Demons 01: Beautiful Demons (14 page)

BOOK: Peachville High Demons 01: Beautiful Demons
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I wondered if any of that would change if I didn't make the squad.

The idea of becoming a cheerleader was quickly becoming an obsession with me. I spent my evenings practicing the routines either with Agnes or on my own. Except for calculus, my school work was pretty easy. All I cared about was keeping these new friendships and making it into their elite group.

Wednesday, I felt nervous all day. This would be our last chance to practice the routines before the actual auditions on Thursday.

“Don't look so nervous,” Brooke said as she walked me to the gym. “It'll show on your face. Just keep your smile turned on at all times and you'll be fine.”

“I hope so,” I said. But now, I felt nervous about being too nervous. Ugh.

“You've got this in the bag for sure,” Lark said.

“You haven't even watched us practice yet,” I said.

“Eh, I just have a feeling about you.” She winked at me and linked her arm in mine.

Why was everyone saying that lately? Before I moved to Peachville, every family I'd lived with had been dying to get rid of me as fast as possible. But here? People actually thought I was special.

She's the Prima.

A voice echoed in my head, and I stumbled.

“You okay?”

“Gosh, Harper. You better get it together by tomorrow. Clumsy up like that at auditions and you're toast.”

“Brooke! Don't say something like that to her,” Lark said in my defense. “You'll make her even more nervous than she already is.”

I was disoriented and thankful to have Lark's arm to keep me steady as we walked. While in some ways, I had been happier than ever, I also knew that deep in my mind, there was a locked room of secrets I seemed to be keeping from myself. Like I had hidden information and memories away somehow. And every once in a while, like this voice, they would pop to the surface and scare the bejeesus out of me.

During practice in the gym, I was off the whole time. I tripped. I forgot the dance choreography. I even yelled out the wrong words on one of the cheers. Mrs. King eyed me suspiciously, but thankfully didn't call attention to my mistakes. I knew that if I didn't get it together, I wouldn't have a chance.

When the two hours were up, Mrs. King called us all together to wish us luck for the following day. “Everyone is invited to my house this afternoon, so carpool over together if you want.”

I rode with Brooke, Lark and Allison in Brooke's BMW.

“Nice car,” I said.

The sleek blue car was amazing. All leather interior. Sunroof. All the bells and whistles. I felt uncomfortable sitting in it, wondering how I was supposed to fit in with a group of girls like this. Rich girls. The mayor's daughter. The cream of the crop. Come to think of it, not one single girl on the cheerleading squad was poor like me. All of them had wealthy, successful parents. My gut churned.

I would never be able to match them in clothing and bags and cars. I would always be a hanger-on. Maybe I could get a job or something to help pay for some of the things they all seemed to have. I pushed it from my mind and tried to enjoy the ride.

“I can't wait for the party Friday night,” Lark said. “This is definitely the week Andrew is going to kiss me.”

“And Drake definitely has his eye on someone in this car,” Allison teased. “Not going to name names.” She pointed at me and everyone laughed.

“If I don't make the squad, I'm not too sure I'll feel like partying,” I said. What I meant was that I wasn't sure I would still be invited.

“Oh pooh,” Lark said. “You're going to make it.”

The three girls exchanged glances. Brooke turned the wheel sharply and pulled over on the side of the road.

“Why are we stopping?” The abandoned parking lot we sat in front of was definitely not Mrs. King's house. I swallowed nervously. There was an excited energy in the car I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Brooke smiled and reached for something in the glove compartment.

“Harper, I have something for you,” she said. A deep blue velvet jewelry box sat in her palm. She held it out to me. “Open it.”

My hand shook a little as I took the box from her hand. It squeaked as I opened it. I gasped as I looked inside. A black diamond pendant as big as an acorn sat inside. It was strung onto a beautiful, delicate silver chain.

“Don't get too excited,” Brooke said. “I'm not giving it to you to keep forever. But I want you to promise me you'll wear this to the audition tomorrow.”

My hand instinctively rose up to my mother's sapphire pendant. “Why?”

She smiled and looked at me over her shoulder. “Actually, wear it for this run through at Mrs. King's house.”

I ran my finger along the smooth surface of the stone. “Is this a real diamond?”

“Yes,” she said. “It's extremely old and extremely powerful.”

I'd never heard anyone refer to a diamond as powerful. The word sent a cold shiver down my spine. “What does it do?”

“You'll see,” Lark said, raising her eyebrows.

Allison, who was sitting next to me in the backseat, reached around my neck and unclasped my mother's silver chain. My hand went to my throat.

“Wait,” I said. “I never take that off.”

“You can't wear them both,” Allison said. “It won't work.”

Work? What exactly was going on with this diamond? “Is this supposed to be a good luck charm or something?”

“Something like that,” Brooke said. She took the black diamond necklace out of the box and put it around my neck.

Allison put my sapphire necklace into the box and I bit my lip nervously.

“We'll give it back to you tomorrow after the tryouts,” Brooke said, seeing my concern. “I promise.”

Brooke slipped the box into the glove compartment and closed it tight. I knew it was silly, but for some reason, I felt uneasy without it. Like taking it off meant letting someone down. But that was ridiculous right?

I glanced longingly at the glove compartment, then settled back into the leather seat, the cold weight of the diamond heavy against my skin.

A Demon On His Back

Mrs. King's house was huge considering her and Coach King didn't have any children. They were barely out of college, really. As I looked up at the large brick house with its perfect yard and big bay windows, I wondered how two teachers could afford something so expensive. I dreamed that someday I could have something like this with a husband who loved me and a job I was good at.

Maybe I would settle down in Peachville someday. If Drake and I stayed together, we could certainly afford whatever kind of house we wanted. I mentally kicked myself for having thoughts like that. I wasn't even Drake's girlfriend yet and already I was planning our wedding and spending his family's millions. I had never thought of myself as that kind of girl. You know, the materialistic kind who liked people for their money. A pang of guilt shot through my body.

I guess that was just one of the side-effects of being friends with all these rich popular kids who had everything handed to them on a silver platter. It put my head in the clouds and made me feel like I was entitled to things I had no business daydreaming over.

In the backyard, the cheerleading squad assembled to run through the routines. All of the sophomore wannabes sat in the plush grass and watched. The sun faded in the evening sky and I had to put my jacket on to keep from shivering.

“Demons. Let's do it again. Fight. Demons fight!”

It amazed me how together they were. Completely synchronized down to every movement. Even if I made the team, how would I ever look as polished as they were?

When it came time for us to run through the dance with the squad, side-by-side, Mrs. King put me in the front next to Brooke. She was by far the best and most beautiful on the squad, so standing beside her made me super nervous. I fingered the black diamond under my shirt.

The music began and suddenly, I felt an energy buzz through my muscles. All of my nervousness left me and it was like instinct took over. I smiled bright, just like the girls had told me to, and ran through the routine flawlessly. Where I'd frozen earlier in practice, this time I didn't even have to think about the moves. It was like my body already knew it so well. I felt so incredibly coordinated and energetic. Strong and confident.

“Great job!” Mrs. King clapped her hands together, then stepped forward and whispered, “Especially you, Harper. That was awesome. Keep it up.”

I felt giddy. High on raw energy and adrenaline. If Mrs. King had asked me to do a somersault back-handspring across her lawn, I could have done three of them in a row. Against my skin, the diamond was now so warm it almost burned.

When the squad started a new routine, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I needed to catch my breath. The power in my veins was exhilarating, but it was also a little scary. I teetered on the edge of excitement and losing control. I knew what it was like to go over that edge and lose control. It always seemed to end with me being sent off to yet another foster home.

I opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside the warm living room. I heard voices in the next room and paused, not wanting to interrupt by passing through. Coach King stood in the middle of the kitchen with one of the cheerleaders. Ella, I think. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and she was sitting on top of the granite counters, giggling. Coach King leaned in toward her and whispered something in her ear that made her squeal.

I backed up a step. I needed to go through the kitchen to get to the bathroom, but this was obviously something I wasn't supposed to see. Definitely not your average teacher-student relationship. As I backed up, I bumped into something and almost knocked it over. When I turned to catch it, I saw that it was a coat rack.

I gripped the round middle of it and steadied it, but one coat fell to the floor in a heap. I grimaced, then glanced to the kitchen. They hadn't heard me. Quietly, I leaned over to pick up the coat.

When my hand touched the leather sleeve, an image sliced through my mind, causing me to drop it suddenly. I closed my eyes and gripped my forehead. Where had that come from? I crouched down, knees bent as I tried to make sense of what I had seen. Another memory, I knew, but of what?

I touched the jacket again, this time turning it over in my hands so I could study it. It was a blue and black letterman's jacket. The kind the football players wore. There, stitched onto the back was the face of the Demon mascot.

The memory came to me full force. It was like being hit with lightning.

Searching for my lost necklace under the bleachers. Tori Fairchild with her long blonde hair and flirtatious laughter, standing on the field with a boy. No, someone older than us. A man in a football jacket and cap. He saw me. Threatened me.

Coach King? It couldn't have been! But here he was in his own kitchen, boldly flirting with a different cheerleader. He had been the one with Tori that night. I hadn't seen his face, but I saw the jacket. Drake's jacket didn't look like this. There was no Demon on the back. They must have changed the design of the jacket years ago, when Coach King was still a student.

“Harper?” Coach King stood behind me. My heart hammered against my ribs.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves. “Hey coach. Sorry, I accidentally knocked over the coat rack.”

He looked from me to the football jacket in my hand. Could he see my fear? Did he know it was me that night under the bleachers? I'd been so sure that he never saw my face, but what if I was wrong?

“I thought I heard something in here,” he said. “Here, let me get that for you.” He took the jacket from my hand and put it back up on the rack. “Was there something else you needed?”

I stood there, unable to remember what I had even come in the house for in the first place. I shook my head. “No. I mean, yeah. Where's your bathroom?”

He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “Back there, through the kitchen and down the hall. It'll be the first door on your right.”

I thanked him and hurried down the hallway. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face. Had Coach King killed Tori? A thousand possible scenarios flooded my mind. Maybe she threatened to break up with him. Or maybe he wanted to break it off with her and she threatened to tell.

My breath came in short, shallow gasps. The room seemed to be spinning.

They had seemed very happy together that night out at the football field. But what if I wasn't the only one who saw them there together?

My flesh broke out in goosebumps.

What if Mrs. King saw them? Wives were always going into murderous rages over their cheating husbands. If she found out her husband was cheating on her with one of her own students, she might have snapped and killed Tori.

She was burned alive. Cooked from the inside.

Sheriff Hollingsworth's words jumped into my mind. I had forgotten until now just how strange Tori's murder had really been. She was cooked alive. The Sheriff had accused me of it, saying that I had certain powers. She'd mentioned the fire that killed my adopted father. She'd known all along that someone like me had killed Tori.

Not Coach King. His wife!

I was kidding myself if I thought this town was normal. American as apple pie and all the bull. Deep down, I knew it was different. Was that why I fit in better here than anywhere else I'd ever lived? It was the real reason they wanted me to be a part of the cheerleading squad. To keep an eye on me. Because I was like them.

A witch.

That was what Jill, my adoptive mother had called me after the fire.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door and I jumped. My heart stopped beating for a second, then started back up again, going ninety miles an hour.

“Yes?” My voice cracked.

“Are you alright in there sweetheart?” It was Mrs. King. Did she know that I remembered? Was she the one responsible for Tori's death?

“I'll be out in a second,” I choked out.

The picture I'd found in the empty bedroom came into my mind. My mother. Lark's mother, the mayor. Sheriff Hollingsworth. They were all there in the picture. Mrs. King was too young, but she had been a cheerleader when she was in school too.

BOOK: Peachville High Demons 01: Beautiful Demons
10.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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