Tangled Thoughts (18 page)

“How are you handling your—loss?”

Jill shifted in her seat. “It's—” Tears welled in her eyes and she squeezed them shut, grimacing. “It's hard. I'm not going to lie about it. I forget. I meet someone, and when nothing happens, I think ‘oh, they're not one of us' but it's
me
.” Her voice cracked. “It's me who's not one of us anymore.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.
I'm sorry
, I started to say, but I wasn't. Not entirely.
Maybe you deserve it
, I thought next, but did anyone deserve that? Finally, I said, “It sounds hard.”

A breathy huff-laugh escaped her. “It's like there's a little empty piece of me right here”—she touched the center of her chest—“and I can't find anything to fill in the hole all the way.”

Bam
. She was leaning forward in her seat, looking at me when she said that. Despite everything, she knew
I
was the one who could understand. And I did; I had the same hole. My hand was halfway toward the note tucked in my jacket pocket when I realized what it was doing. I ran it over my hair instead.

Jill nodded and sat back, exhausted or maybe satisfied. “So. You know what it's like.”

“I suppose I do.” My voice came out like I had sand paper in my throat. I cleared it.

After a few beats she said casually, “Father is much happier with your current match anyway.”

“Because I'm happy.”

Jill grinned, and for the first time ever, I saw the cool madness lurking under her facade. “No,” she said. “Because she's easy to control.”

I shot up, the chair behind me making an ugly squeak as it scraped backwards too fast. “Stay away from her.”

The crazy look slipped away, replaced with Jill's usual innocence. I shivered. “Gladly,” she said. “Maybe I should say that to you. She's just a tool.
And
she's a bitch. Always has been.”

“You don't know her.”

Jill shook her head. “No.
You
don't know
anyone
.”

I rocked on my heels as her words punched into me. Without another word, I backed toward the door. I wouldn't take my eyes off Jill until I was gone. She was standing now too. “I'm sorry, Carter. I'm sorry!” She held out her hands. “This is what I needed to say! I'm trying to make up for what I did, to
help
you. It's never been me you need to be protected from. I
love
—”

I slammed the door and was gone.

Lainey

I
t was weird how life worked. A day, a weekend, a single minute, even a single second could change everything, take something from you or give it, maybe even both. When I looked back on it, I'd see that weekend shoved me over a precipice. I'd gained a brother or sister, but lost the feeling of freedom I'd only just started to grasp.

So much had happened that was out of my control. But it had never
been
in my control anyway. I couldn't keep Daniel Astor or the Sententia out of my life. All I could control was
me
. Grasping that was a different kind of freedom. The question I still hadn't answered was: who was I? Maybe we spent our entire lives trying to figure it out.

Halloween was exactly what I needed, the chance to pretend to be someone else, to be
anyone
.

“You have brothers and sisters, right?” I asked Serena as we browsed a vintage shop in Cambridge, looking for the final touches for her flapper costume.

“Yeah, three. Two sisters and a brother.” She picked up a midnight blue cloche from the bin in front of her and held it up.

“What's it like?” The thing about my aunt's impending baby was that I wanted to talk about it but I
couldn't
. I shook my head at the hat. “You need a headband,” I said. “Sparkles.”

“And feathers!” She moved on to a rack of vintage outerwear, stoles and coats and things. “I don't know. It just is. I've always had them, so I don't know what it would be like without them. Why?”

“Just curious. I'm the opposite, so I was just…wondering.” I slid my necklace back and forth on its chain.

Serena glanced up at me, pausing at a fox fur wrap. She held it up. “This is nice.”

It was rather nice, actually. Average condition, so wearable but not collectible. It was perfect. That is, until I swiped a finger down the fur and a tell-tale hum rose beneath it.
Shit
. I wavered, not wanting to loose my Grim Diviner senses I'd been suppressing for months, but I was just so tired. Tired of resisting. Tired of everything. If I couldn't use my gifts for my friend, what good was I?

I watched the vision for only a second. She passed peacefully, this fur draped around her shoulders and another one across her lap. I thought she might have been the second generation owner. A young girl sat by her side, waiting.

I shook my head at Serena. “Not that one.”

“But—”

“Trust me. We'll find a nicer one.” I flipped quickly through a few pieces on the rack. “Tell me more about your siblings?”

“My little sister is my favorite. She's only nine. She was a surprise, but she's the best.”

“I'm sure she is.” I could only hope to be half as cool a big sister as Serena must be.

“She dances better than me. But I'm boring. Let's talk about how
you
are on a first name basis with the guy who might be president.” Right then, her eyes lit on a sparkling beaded bolero, so I didn't think she saw me flinch. “I knew you were fancy, but that was a surprise. So how did your aunt meet him? At some big DC charity event?”

“It's a long story, but the short version is I introduced them.” Much to my chagrin.

“
You
did? You get more interesting by the minute.”

I inspected Serena's find. The wrap was black and teal with an art deco rose motif, and in below average condition—which is to say, perfect, because the price was reasonable I tapped some of the pulled edges, but no more beads fell off and, good news, no one had died while wearing it. “That's the one.”

“Yes! I love this.” She held it in front of her and did a little pirouette. When she came to a stop she said, “So then how do you know a senator?”

Different answers ran through my head:
he's my long-lost uncle. He tried to kill me. He's the leader of the secret organization that wants me to be their assassin
. Ultimately what I said was, “He's my—ex-boyfriend's uncle.” I stumbled over the ex- part, even though I should have been used to it by now.

A thoughtful look crossed Serena's face, like she wanted to say something more, but she shook her head and chuckled. “You really are fancy.”

“Fancy enough to wear
this
?” Desperate for a change of subject, I pulled the last coat off the rack, a fluffy white monstrosity that looked like it was made of Abominable Snowman hide and had probably belonged to a seventies porn star.

“If
anyone
is fancy enough to wear that, it's you.” She slipped it over my shoulders. The lining was expensive—the
coat
was expensive—and
it fit me perfectly. Serena laughed again. “That's so ridiculous, it's actually great. It looks good with your hair.”

With a grin, I said, “I'm buying it.”

Next to the register was a rack of kitschy, retro cards that I spun idly while we waited to cash out. Serena pointed to one with Dorothy from the
Wizard of Oz
. “You should totally go as Dorothy for Halloween. You've already got her whole innocent-sexy thing down perfectly.”

Laughing, I said, “I already have a costume, but maybe next year.” I was about to spin the carousel again, when I noticed the card just below Dorothy. If not for Serena, I'd have missed it. On the front was a ridiculous snowman, wearing sunglasses and flowered shorts, carrying a surf board. I hesitated before I pulled it from the rack. Inside it read
Feliz Navidad!
That was it. I closed my eyes and held the card to my chest before I plucked out an envelope.

Serena watched me curiously. “Early Christmas shopping?”

“Something like that.”

I bought the coat, and the card too.

O
N THE
T ride back, Serena eyed me where I was wedged in a corner, trying not to touch anyone. I didn't like the T very much, packed with people in various stages of living and dying. Crowded public places were a challenge for any Diviner, and often morbid for a Grim one like me. Serena thought I was a germophobe.

“Did you hurt your wrist?” she asked as our train rumbled its way underground.

“Huh?”

“Your wrist. Does it hurt? You keep rubbing it.”

I looked down to see I was, in fact, rubbing my wrist and stopped. No, it didn't hurt. But rubbing it made the phantom pains in my heart feel a little better. The card had me thinking about…things. Carter, last
Christmas, the accident. “It's the cold today,” I lied. “I broke it last year, and sometimes when it's cold, or rainy, it aches.”

Serena nodded, like that made sense, and I hitched my new fluffy coat from one arm to the other. After a hesitation, she said, “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

“Is ex-boyfriend the one who gave you that necklace?” She looked down toward my chest, where instead of my wrist, my fingers were clutching the diamond again. I dropped it.

I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah.”

“It's pretty. I get why you wear it, but then, maybe I don't?”

“It's…complicated,” I hedged.

Serena paused again. Finally, she said, “Did he abuse you?”

“God, no! He was the best. Why do people keep thinking that?”

Holding up her hand and ticking off a list on her fingers, she swept her eyes first down toward my feet and said, “Uh, the tattoo,”—up to my hands—“the broken wrist,”—and finished at my neck—“and the expensive present you don't want to let go. It's okay. I understand. It's hard to leave behind—”

I held up my hand. “I swear, he was great. He the opposite of abused me.”

And then, the question: “So…well then, why did you break up with him?” Why indeed. If only I could tell her.

“He was…
too
good,” is what I said, and I liked that it wasn't a complete lie. “Too soon. I needed to do this on my own.” I refrained from adding
but I miss him
. I wanted to admit it, out loud. It felt like it would be good to stop denying it, just like it had felt perversely good to use my Diviner gift at the store.

“Hmmm,” she said, and I broke in before she could ask any more questions I didn't really want to answer.

“So are you
sure
it's okay if I come with you?” Serena had scored VIP invitations to the biggest Halloween party in the city, something she excelled at. She danced better than anyone I'd ever seen, so promoters shoved passes at her every time she went out. I barely managed to keep up with her and her other friends. “I don't want to intrude—”

“Lane,” she interrupted, laughing. “You're coming. And I get it. You don't want to talk about ex-boyfriend. So. What are you going as again?”

I smiled. “I have this great Malificent costume.”

“Who?”

“Malificent?” I said, smile faltering. “You know, the witch from
Sleeping Beauty
?”

“Oh. Right.” After a pause for the train announcement for the next station, she said, “Is it sexy?”

“Not exactly,” I admitted. We couldn't really do sexy at North-brook's Halloween Bazaar, where I'd worn it last year.

“Then no,” Serena said.

“What?”

“I said no. No way.” She leaned toward me, hanging onto the train bar with both hands. “Have you seen yourself? You're not going as some creepy not-sexy Disney witch. You need to shake things up. Do something to forget about Mr. Too-Good and be Miss All-Bad.”

I swallowed. Hadn't I wanted just that? To be someone else? “Well, I don't have another costume…”

Serena eyed me up and down, like she was sizing me for something. Something I should be worried about. “
I
do. Let's get off here.” The doors opened at Park Street and she headed toward the tunnel to Downtown Crossing. “You're going to need boots and…accessories.”

“I
CAN
'
T
DO
this,” I said later as I stood in Serena's room, wearing a string bikini and feeling ridiculous. And cold. I watched myself shiver in the mirror as Serena finished braiding my hair.

“Oh yeah you can. You look amazing.”

“I look
naked
.” The bikini was nearly the color of my skin, which on Serena surely looked amazing. On me, it looked basically like I was wearing nothing.

“That's the point. That's what she looked like.” She snapped a rubber band into place and draped the long braid over my shoulder. “You look
perfect
.”

I certainly looked…something. Serena had brought up images on the way off the train, and we'd come home with suede boots, two silk scarves, and some chain necklaces. Add in the bikini she already owned and
voila
! I was Princess Leia in the dessert.

“I can't do this,” I repeated.

Serena tied her own scarf around her head and twisted a few curls into place on her forehead. Her flapper ensemble complete, she said, “Too late. Time to go!”

“Fine,” I relented. “But I'm wearing the coat.” Serena rolled her eyes and pulled me out the door by my chains.

The party was at a rock club on Lansdowne Street, where I'd been to concerts but never something like this. In fact, I'd never been to anything like this party
ever
. The “VIP” room was a riot of color and texture, and that was just the walls. Chairs, tables, rugs, pillows—
everything
was a vibrant, exotic rainbow, like a Moroccan palace and a gay pride parade met and fell in love. And then there were the
people
.