The Curse: Touch of Eternity (The Curse series) (4 page)

“Come on, Sam. This is going absolutely the wrong way.” He brushed through his hair with his hand, softening me with a remorseful look.

“Ryan, listen,” I said. “You’re the hottest guy in school. But you need to find someone else to tease because I’m done.”

I downed the other half of my beer in one gulp and pushed the empty bottle back into his hand.

“Enjoy the party.” I started to take off.

Kim was busy anyway, and I couldn’t care less about Ryan. I was even a bit proud of myself. I’d blown off the hot guy before he could make a fool of me.

“Hey, Sam,” he called after me. “There’s just one thing I want to know… Don’t you still need to be kissed?”

I pretended I hadn’t heard him.

“Damn, I don’t see why you have to be so cold. Your cousin Ashley sure isn’t!”

I stopped and turned.

“Asshole! If you really want to know, it’s true, I haven’t ever kissed a boy. But I’d rather eat a handful of sand than kiss you! My first kiss will be with someone worth kissing. And another thing—I wouldn’t consider Ashley a big score. She’s not exactly picky.”

I spent the rest of the weekend curled up in my room. I didn’t even return Kim’s calls or texts. She was in the throes of her first love, and she wouldn’t get it anyway. Even I didn’t know why I’d acted the way I did. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about Ryan anymore.

At school, I tried to lie low. That worked fairly well, but still, trouble found me. After history and geography class, Mr. Schneider wanted to talk to me.

“Samantha, I feel like you’re having difficulty finding enthusiasm for these topics.” He was sitting on the edge of his desk and slowly stretching his legs.

“No, it’s not that—”

“I know you’re smart, but you need motivation. I’d like to talk to your parents about a great program that I think you’d be a good candidate for.”

Oh no, I thought. He wanted to talk to my parents?

“Mr. Schneider, please… Please, don’t call my parents. I’ll improve, I promise!”

“Samantha, calm down. Let me talk to your parents, and then we’ll see what happens.” He started packing up his bag, dismissing me. I dragged myself home. The whole week had been crap.

“Scotland? You want to send me to Scotland for the summer?”

I was stunned.

My mom was talking and my dad was standing behind me. His arms were on the back of my chair, like he thought I was going to bolt.

“Mr. Schneider says he knows you’re really smart, but he’s convinced that you just aren’t working up to your potential. He thinks this exchange program would be a terrific opportunity for you—and we agree.”

Apparently, the teacher had brainwashed my mom; otherwise, she wouldn’t dream of letting me go so far from home.

“Sam. Think about it before you say no. We told Mr. Schneider that we’d get back to him by Friday. Just think about it for now.”

Scotland. I was lying in my bed, weighing my options and gently tugging on Grandma’s necklace. I’d been wearing it a lot lately. Kim was head over heels for Justin and would probably spend every waking moment with him. Ryan was probably telling everyone I was a prude. My beloved cousin Ashley was going to come and comfort Ryan—with her boobs—and sleep in my room.

This made Mr. Schneider’s offer a lot more appealing. He said that a teacher in Scotland—some guy named Roy Leary—had proposed the exchange, swapping a student from Milford with a student from Scotland. By choosing me, Mr. Schneider was hoping to awaken my interest in geography and history. According to him, Scotland had a very moving and interesting history. On top of that, my parents thought it was a good idea. They’d certainly be happier with me if I were at least giving the impression that I was doing something constructive with myself.

On Friday I told Mr. Schneider that I’d love to spend my summer in Scotland.

I
woke up panicked.

I peeled my face away from the airplane seat and rubbed my cheek where the synthetic leather had left a crease. I raised my seat back and pushed up the window shade. The long transatlantic flight from New York to London was already over; I was on a smaller plane as I made the short hop to Glasgow, where we would land in a few minutes. From there I would take a bus to the Scottish Highlands. I’d been up for almost eighteen hours, and I’d just drifted off to sleep when a terrible nightmare woke me. I could vividly see the awful images as they replayed in my mind.

I was running. I was running as fast as I could on stony, wet ground. I could see waves pounding against the cliffs in front of me, the churning gray waters swirling around the rocks below. A menacing curtain of clouds had pushed itself in front of the sun, and I shivered, despite the sweat running down my back. On the mountaintop behind me was an old lady with white hair. It rose up off her like smoke, billowing around her wrinkled face. Only her eyes were young.
And although she was speaking to me in a language I didn’t know, I could somehow understand every word she said:

“You must face your destiny! You can’t run away!”

Goose bumps spread over my whole body. I looked for a way out. In front of me, there was only the icy water, and behind me the terrifying apparition. But when I turned around again, she had disappeared. Where had she gone? I scanned the rocky, bare landscape. She had vanished. Relieved, I breathed deeply and sank wearily to my knees as a cold blast of air came down from the mountains.

That’s when I woke up.

The flight crew was preparing the plane for landing, and we all fastened our seat belts. I shook my head, trying to clear the haunting images. I hadn’t even set foot in this country full of superstitions and ghost stories, and already my imagination was playing tricks on me. Probably because I was so exhausted.

By the time I got off the bus in Inverness, dusk was falling. The driver lugged my gray suitcase out of the baggage compartment, and with a curt nod he jumped right back on and rumbled off, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

It didn’t feel like summer here. It was cloudy and cold. It had rained for half the drive, and there were puddles on the road. I smoothed my hair back under my Wilmington City Ruff Rollers cap, put on the warmest jacket I had, and tried to get oriented. On the other side of the road was the tourist welcome center where I was supposed to meet my host family. I grabbed my bag and dragged it behind me.

Whoosh!

The suitcase was torn out of my hand, and I was knocked flat on the pavement. I had no idea what had just happened. I heard tires squealing and the loud roar of a motor, and quickly, I stood up.

The other side of the road was empty. About a block away, a biker stopped his black motorcycle and turned around to look at me. A man? Yes, a man, I thought. It was hard to tell with the helmet on. When the driver saw that I’d survived what had almost been a terrible accident, he turned around and raced off at full speed. All I could do was swear at him, but there’s no way he could have heard me.

My knee was really sore. I guess I must have banged it when I fell. My favorite hat was lying in a puddle, and my suitcase was in the middle of the road.

Weren’t there any people here, I wondered. Why wasn’t anybody helping me? If that biker had killed me, how long would it have taken for someone to notice?

My mood was getting darker by the second: first, the long journey; then that spooky dream; and now this near collision. I picked up my hat, shook off the water, and rolled my suitcase onto the curb.

Just then, a dark-green Land Rover pulled up next to me.

“Samantha Watts?”

A nice-looking red-haired man in his late thirties stuck his head out of the car window. He smiled at me, and then looked puzzled when he saw my wet pants. He jumped out and lifted my suitcase onto the backseat. Then he stretched out his hand.

“I’m Roy Leary. Sorry that I was late. I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”

“No, sir, I… uh…”

“Aye, that’s all right then. What happened to you, lassie?” Roy pointed at my pants. He opened the passenger door and offered a hand to hoist me onto the high-up seat.

I felt totally disoriented. This is what a kidnapping must feel like, I thought. I was being taken somewhere by a complete stranger, driving along a lonely street in an unfamiliar place a long way from home.