Read The Lingering Grace Online
Authors: Jessica Arnold
Tags: #death and dying, #magic, #witches, #witchcraft, #parnormal, #supernatural, #young adult, #teen
“Mom, what’s going on?”
Her mom’s eyes were obviously bloodshot, but she smiled at Alice as though nothing was wrong.
“Oh, sweetie. You know me and your dad. We just had another little fight.”
“He just went on a walk,” Alice said, sitting down on the other end of the small couch, a safe distance from her teary mother.
“I know,” her mom nodded, and her voice caught ever so slightly. “But it’s fine, hon. We’re fine. Come here.” She held out her arms and Alice curled herself up between them, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder, holding her knees to her chest. Her mom cradled her, rocking back and forth.
“Everything’s just fine,” she said, running a hand through Alice’s hair. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
But Alice found herself fighting back tears. People only insisted things were fine when they weren’t.
It was Jeremy who asked the question. He was shoveling down a bowl of cereal while Alice dug around in the pantry for a snack bar (she usually ate one during first period, since most of the time she was running too late for a real breakfast). Her mom wandered into the kitchen, puffy-eyed, and went immediately for the coffee machine.
Jeremy looked up and, without preamble, asked the question Alice would never have dared to.
“Mom? Are you and Dad getting a divorce?”
Alice froze and looked up from the box she was rifling through. Her mom nearly dropped the coffee pot in the sink.
“Oh, sweetie—now why would you think that?” she asked, gripping the countertop a little too tightly.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Jeremy pointed out.
Her mom looked to Alice for help, but Alice immediately started digging in the box again. The sound of crinkling plastic filled the kitchen.
“Jeremy, we’re not getting a divorce. We just had a fight.”
She sounded so sure of herself that even Alice was inclined to believe her. But her parents had fought before and she had never seen her dad as upset as he had been the night before. He had returned to the house around ten (she could hear him stomping around the kitchen) and was gone before she woke up. This was not just another argument over who should pick Jeremy up from school.
“But you’re not getting a divorce? You promise?” Jeremy asked.
“I promise.”
Apparently mollified, Jeremy let the subject drop.
“Mom? What were you fighting about?” Alice quietly asked as Jeremy put his bowl in the sink.
Her mom went a little pale. “I’ll explain it to you later, hon. Not right now.”
Alice nodded though she had a feeling her mom was just putting her off. She didn’t have time to argue with her about it anyway since Tony would be there any minute.
For the second day in a row, Alice was a little too quiet on the drive to school. Fortunately, Tony seemed preoccupied today as well, and if he noticed that she wasn’t quite herself, he didn’t bring it up.
When they were almost at her school, he said, “Oh I almost forgot to ask. What did your dad want last night?”
“You know how he is—just thought I was staying out too late and wanted me home,” she answered quickly. As far as she knew, that was the truth anyway. For some reason she had no desire to tell Tony about what a mess last night had been. When she was trying and failing to fall asleep the night before, she had come very close to calling him. But something had stopped her, choked back the words. And though she had woken up cradling her cellphone, Tony was none the wiser.
“Hope he wasn’t too mad.”
“He wasn’t mad at me,” she said truthfully. Then, daring to broach the subject of Danny—“When did your brother get back?”
“After midnight,” Tony said, rapping his fingernails on the steering wheel.
“Midnight? I thought he was just going to the grocery store.”
“So did I.”
“So where did he really go?”
Tony frowned. “I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know any more. Mom didn’t even try to get it out of him, and that’s saying something.”
“You don’t think he’s getting into trouble already?” she asked. It was hard to believe someone just out of prison would be so eager to return.
“Danny
is
trouble. He doesn’t even have to try to find it. It just follows him around.”
He kissed her goodbye, lingering to run his hand through her hair.
“I’m sorry I’m so distracted,” he said. She leaned in to kiss his cheek, just to show she wasn’t mad. That was one added stress he didn’t need right now.
“It’ll be ok,” she assured him. “Even if your brother is an idiot, you and your mom will be okay. You aren’t responsible for him.”
He smiled wanly. “I know. But sometimes I wish I were the older brother.”
She watched him drive away before turning to school. He had gotten her there a little earlier than usual today—stress made him speed—and there were only a few other students around, leaning against the gates in small groups. She hurried past them, not daring to look too closely; she didn’t want to run into anyone she knew. Socializing was the last thing she wanted to do this morning, and she headed for the one place she knew she could be alone—even for a few minutes.
Her first-period classroom was in a less crowded building and the hallway was deserted. She peeked into the door as she passed and saw Ms. Jordan at her desk, bent over her computer. When she finally got to the bathroom at the end of the hall, she saw with relief that it was empty as well. Not even bothering to lock herself in a stall, she dropped her backpack on the tiled floor and slumped down, back against the wall.
One of the faucets was dripping and the steady patter echoed in the tiny room. This bathroom was a little less grimy than some of the others and it didn’t have the awful smell of urine that deodorizers couldn’t cover up. Alice breathed in deeply for what felt like the first time since she’d gotten home last night.
She believed her mom. Or at least she believed that her mom didn’t plan on getting a divorce. But who knew what was going through her dad’s head? She wished she knew what they’d been fighting about, but unlike their other big fights, this one hadn’t built up over time—it had spontaneously erupted. Something had happened to knock everything off balance.
Things between her parents had been solid for almost a year now, which made this outburst all the more confusing. She had always felt that things were too good to last, that surely there would be another blow-up before long, but after a while she had begun to hope that they were in the clear. Clearly, she had been setting herself up for disappointment.
She reached into her backpack and pulled out two pieces of paper she had slipped into her chemistry textbook the night before. Though she didn’t dare bring the diary itself with her to school, Alice couldn’t bring herself to leave it behind either. When she was sitting in class, trying not to doze off, there was nothing to stop her mind from wandering back to the diary, gnawing at the thought of spells—of magic—until she could hardly stand the prospect of waiting another minute to try her hand at another one.
She had been going through the book page by page, attempting some of the simpler spells. But these were often so vague that she hardly knew whether she had succeeded or not. The night before she had recited an incantation for deep sleep and had drifted off a little afterward, but it was hard to say whether that was magic or just exhaustion. And who knew if the spell for memory improvement was actually working? She needed something more tangible to test her abilities, and though she was hesitant to try the fire spell again after what had happened to her in class, she’d discovered a promising section on ice at the back of the book. Thinking it might help to solidify the words in her mind, she had copied the spell onto some scrap paper, then decided she may as well take it with her.
Now, with eight minutes before the bell and the bathroom all to herself, she skimmed over the instructions one more time. Like the spell for fire, the pages on creating ice called for nothing more complex than “single-mindedness” and “powerful will.” Taking a deep breath, she read quickly and as quietly as possible, ready to stop at a moment’s notice should anyone walk in the door.
“Blue to silver,
Silver to white.
Gold in morning,
Dead by night.”
The words echoed softly against the tiled walls, but nothing happened. She felt no tingling—no warmth and no cold.
Shaking her head, she tried again, but she knew it was no use from the beginning. She felt far from powerful this morning, with her mind wandering back again and again to the night before, her ears constantly tuned to the noises in the hallway. “Focus is key,” the spellbook repeated over and over. But she had no focus. She had no control.
Four minutes until the bell. She could hear the sounds of students in the hallway as the school came to life. Lockers slammed in the distance. Someone could come through the door at any moment. She stood up and pushed the door open half an inch—just enough to peek outside. A few students were passing by, but no one was heading toward the bathroom at the moment. A girl with a button-covered backpack was struggling with her locker; it took Alice a few seconds to recognize Eva and a few seconds more to regain the presence of mind to close the door. She thought Eva may have looked in her direction, but there was little chance Eva would have been able to see someone through the barely open door.
“Last chance,” she whispered to herself. Exhaling, she looked at the empty stalls. Afraid of the weird looks she would get if someone walked in and saw her crouched on the floor, she bolted to the handicap stall and locked herself in. She sat on top of the toilet and, now hidden from view, felt her body relax a little. Her toes tapped against the floor.
She closed her eyes this time; the incantation wasn’t long and she found she could remember it without much effort at all. As she spoke, she pictured the words in her mind in glowing silver letters, like tendrils of white fire. And with a rush of excitement, she felt it—again. Except this time the sensation wasn’t heat, but cold; her fingertips were icy, almost numb. A wave of chills rushed from the top of her head to the tips of her nails, so strong it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. But, unlike her experience in the classroom, the feeling did not spiral out of control. She held it in her hands for a moment, then—let go.
It sped away from her, leaving her neither breathless nor afraid. She opened her eyes and looked around but couldn’t see anything different. She listened to the sounds of the hallway and wondered why the room seemed so silent when, if anything, there were more students outside than before.
That’s when she heard a footstep.
She froze, then quickly stuffed the book into her bag. She held tightly to her backpack and breathlessly waited for the other person to walk into a stall so that she could escape unseen. When she heard nothing, she realized she was not going to get out of here unnoticed and still get to class on time. She flushed the toilet.
The pipes whimpered. No water came into the toilet bowl.
She tried again and there was a roar, but still no water. Looking closely at the bowl for the first time, she realized that the water at the bottom was glassy. Not water at all. Ice.
“Alice?”
Hearing her own name made Alice jump. Heart racing, she opened the stall door and found herself face to face with Eva. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dripping faucet—one teardrop of ice hanging precariously from the tap. Her cheeks flushed and she scrambled for something to say.
“The toilet’s broken,” she mumbled.
But Eva didn’t ask her any questions, nor did she look at all confused. If anything, Alice realized, studying Eva’s expression more closely, the new girl looked delighted. Her lips parted and curved—a cross between a gasp and a smile.
“I thought I felt something,” she said.
Saw something
, Alice silently corrected her. She had seen Alice through the door—she must have.
“Class is starting soon,” Alice said, pushing past her, anxious to escape. After yesterday’s disaster in the parking lot, Alice had been hoping to avoid Eva for the rest of the week. “I’ll be late.”