With Cross & Charm, Page 2

  Chapter 1

  Maybe it’s because Ithinara is being unusually vocal today, or maybe it’s because Beth recently got a new cross from her father, but I was feeling sick. The ten minute drive to school usually doesn’t bother me; something about today was different. I sit in the backseat by myself, listening to the idle chatter of Beth and Delilah. They’re talking about an upcoming dance to celebrate the blue moon.

  “We need dresses,” Delilah says as she peers into the mirror on the visor. “It’s less than a month away and I haven’t started shopping at all. Not even for myself.”

  I shift in my seat, careful to watch the silver chain that wraps around Beth’s neck. Somehow, I decide I need confirmation that I am not insane. “What did you say?” I ask, though I know full well what she said. “I couldn’t hear you over…”

  Beth flinches in the driver’s seat, her grip on the wheel tightening. She’s never liked hearing about Ithinara, maybe because she actually goes to church every Sunday. But I need to be reminded that it’s not a psychosis, and I know she understands that. Beth says, “Is that thing trying to talk over us again? So rude.” She always knows how to play it cool.

  “Good God,” Delilah shouts, “Ithinara don’t you ruin this dance! I plan on getting our little Willa a boyfriend this year.”

  Ithinara and I both snort. “Good luck,” I say. “Eighteen years and counting is a streak that’s hard to beat.”

  Delilah fluffs her blonde strands in the mirror. “Someone’s got to do it.” She turns to face me just as we pull into the parking lot of Wayward High School. “This is our senior year, so you are going to slap a smile on that face or I will do it for you.”

  “You do everything else for me so why not that as well?” I suggest. She laughs and turns back around. I say, “It’s weird to date someone from our classes though; I’m a year older than everyone.”

  “So?” Beth says. “That isn’t so bad.”

  “But I’m eighteen,” I whine, “it’s like I’m a cougar.”

  I see Delilah roll her eyes in the mirror. “An eighteen year old girl dating a seventeen year old guy does not make you a cougar. If he was fourteen, then we might have a problem.”

  Beth parks and shuts the engine off. “I’m going to meet with Joey before class; I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “Meet you then,” Delilah sings. “We can discuss colours for the dance, and dates.”

  Beth frowns. “I’m going with Joey.”

  “We’ll see,” Delilah says. Without saying much else Beth gets out of the car, leaving Delilah and me behind.

  And me, Ithinara mentions. It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Instead of conversing with her I say, “You should stop trying to get her to breakup with Joe. She likes him.”

  “But he’s totally wrong for her.” She huffs and leans into the seat as the school bell rings in the hallways.

  “They go to the same church,” I say, “and have the same values and morals and stuff. He’s a straight A student and his family is freaking rich. How is he wrong for her?”

  “Because of all those reasons,” Delilah tells me. She hops out of the car and I do the same. As I grab my bag from the back seat she says, “Beth should try going with someone that is like the anti-Joe so she gets out of her comfort zone. She won’t grow as a person if she doesn’t make new friends.”

  “Having a demon-possessed friend isn’t out there enough?” I joke. Beth’s father is a minister; the fact that she can even look in my direction is pretty amazing for her. Although I know for a fact she carries a bible and holy water with her just in case; I can’t blame her for it.

  Delilah begins walking, her boots clicking on the concrete. “Nope; she’s way too much of a good girl. She needs a bad boy.” She shoots me a wink over her shoulder and keeps walking.

  The school halls are packed wall to wall with students this morning. But as Delilah steps into the school a wave seems to go through the crowd, allowing her access. I follow close behind her to our Creative Writing class, Ithinara humming a tune in my head. I wish she would shut up.

  What’s gotten into her today?

  Can’t you feel it? she asks me. There’s change in the air.

  I can’t feel anything but the residual heat from outside. We step into class and all the windows are open, relieving us of nothing. If anything it feels like more heat is coming inside. I sit in my seat in the middle of the classroom, and Delilah jumps into the one behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. “You always sit in front of me.”

  “Not today,” she says. “Today, I sit here.”

  I don’t bother to question her again, because her crush on Albert Donovan is still hanging on from the summer. She’d been dating him for the past three months, but then he broke up with her just before school started; she was devastated and has been trying to get him back ever since. I heard last week he was transferring into our class.

  As the bell rang and morning announcements began Mr. Diaz began writing on the board. I watch the gentle curves of the chalk glide across the board; it feels hypnotic, so much so that I almost don’t notice Albert walk in and sit beside Delilah. Are they back together? I turn around and find them smiling shyly at each other.

  She didn’t tell you, Ithinara says, how sad. Are you two not as close as you used to be?

  Shut up, I think. She’s always trying to give me doubts. I want to ask Delilah what’s going on but the announcements are over and class has started. I’ll have to ask later, and maybe convince Beth to gang up with me.

  All through Creative Writing I hear them whispering to each other, and Ithinara doesn’t say a thing. She’s letting my imagination get the better of me, letting me convince myself that Delilah and I aren’t really friends anymore. I shake my head as Mr. Diaz calls my name.

  “I’m sorry Miss Queen,” he says, “did you not want to go to the volleyball game and play for the team? I’ll have to call the coach and let her know.”

  “What?” I shout. “The game?” The class erupts in laughter as I rush out of the room. How could I have forgotten I’m supposed to be on the bus heading to our rival school?

  Coach Henderson finds me at my locker. “Queen, where have you been? The bus has been waiting ten minutes for—why aren’t you dressed for the game?”

  “I’m so sorry Coach,” I say. “I kind of forgot?”

  Coach sighs and pushes her glasses back up her nose. “Do you have your things?”

  “I do now.”

  “Then get going!”

  Everybody heckles me on the bus, questioning how I could have forgotten something so important. I lie and say I was caught up in college essays and planning. Some of them feel it’s a good excuse, but others make more playful jabs.

  We’re halfway to our rival school Highland High. Such a lame name for a high school. The other girls are eager, as usual. We always beat Highland in volleyball, though they usually destroy us in basketball. Today will be no different.

  There’s change in the air, Ithinara sings, don’t be so sure of yourself.

  I push my hair back and tie it into a tight ponytail. Slipping my wristbands on I try to be fierce like the sleek tiger that snarls on the black fabric. I close my eyes as a headache begins.

  Beside me my teammate is wearing a tiny cross earring; it’s no wonder I feel sick again. I lie and say I need to move to the front of the bus and plant myself next to Coach. She notices my feelings immediately.

  “Are you okay Queen?” she asks, always using my last name. It’s like she thinks it sounds more sporty or something. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

  “Just carsick,” I say with a shrug. She accepts the answer, but inches away from me.

  Why do you continue to play this game? Ithinara asks. It’s so boring; barely any blood.

  I like it, I tell her, trying not to say the words out loud. She’s quiet again and my gut sink
s. Something weird is going on, and I can’t help but wonder what she thinks is going to change. I’ve had her in my head for fourteen years now…nothing’s ever changed.

  I change clothes in the washroom of Highland High, the paintings of eagles in every stall staring down at me, judging me for being there. Before I leave the washroom I stick my tongue out at one of the eagles.

  The Highland gymnasium is filled with students, their voices echoing all over the place. Only a few of my own classmates have come to cheer us on, the rest of the seats occupied by Highland kids. They’re surprisingly mature today, and there’s hardly any booing. I begin to warm up with my team by bouncing a ball back and forth before switching to stretches.

  As I pull my left arm over my head I notice a freshman from my team staring at my scar. It runs up my elbow to my armpit, a burn mark reminding me that holy water really does hurt. Holy water doesn’t care that I’m not a demon, only that a demon lives within me. Beth still feels guilty about throwing it on me all those years ago.

  “It’s from ammonia,” I tell her. She flinches and meets my eyes; I try to give her an encouraging smile because I know people are always afraid to ask. “It was spilled on me a few years ago.” She quickly nods her head and runs away to stretch somewhere else.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stick straight up and a chill runs through me. My heart beats faster and the crowd seems to get louder, but all I can think is that if I turn around I’ll see something I don’t want to see. Pushing that aside, I glance casually over my shoulder and look at the upper level of the gymnasium.

  There’s nothing but students there.

  You need to leave, Ithinara warns, it isn’t safe here.

  “It’s safe,” I mumble.

  It isn’t. Run. I can feel her trying to take control of my movements, something she hasn’t done since I was a child. It’s easy to ignore, but as she pushes harder to make my legs move I decide to push back. I lock the door inside my head to ensure she can’t bother me during the game, and she swears in a language I don’t recognize.

  My brow furrows while I look over the students, wondering why that particular section is bothering me. But there’s nothing unusual about them, and I turn back to practice.

  Ithinara tries throughout the game to make me leave, but I ignore her again and we win the game. By the end of it she’s pounding on the imaginary door in my head just to bug me. She isn’t normally like this; I don’t understand.

  Each team lines up by the net and prepares to shake hands. I move down the line, slapping my hand against each person that passes and with each step my chest seems to swell. It begins to hurt so much that I wobble from the line. Coach is there instantly.

  “Come on Queen,” she says, grabbing onto my shoulders, “you should sit down. You pushed yourself enough today.”

  I don’t fight her as she takes me to the bench on the edge of the gymnasium. After a few deep breaths the pain subsides and I watch the rest of the team shake hands with the Highland Eagles. One of the Eagles is watching me from beyond the net; I almost think she’s a student until I realize she’s a teacher, and the coach of the team. She watches me behind thin glasses, almost seeming angry I left the line. I avert my eyes.

  When we leave the school, my feeling of unease stays there, along with my migraine.

  “Can I ask you a question?” the freshman girl asks me on the bus. We’re all sweaty from the game, making it seem even hotter. The breeze from the window does no good to help me as I sit on the aisle seat. The freshman girl sits across from me, her eyes flicking to the scar on my arm.

  “Ask away,” I tell her. I’ve never had a problem explaining my scars to people; they always accept my answers. Besides, who would think unholy demon possession was the truth?

  I would, Ithinara mentions.

  “Uhm…the scars on your hands,” she says, pointing to them, “how…how did those ones happen?”

  I pause, thinking of an answer. “Some knives dropped when I was a kid,” I lie, looking down at the thin white lines that run across my palms. “I tried to catch them out of instinct.”

  She sighs. “I’m sorry for asking…I just thought maybe you…”

  “Did it to myself?” I suggest. “It’s okay; people always think that.”

  She nods a lot before running to the back of the bus with the other two freshman girls. I look back at my palms in thought, wishing my story was the truth. But I couldn’t tell someone the truth; it’s even harder to explain than the demon in my head.

  The bus pulls into the parking lot of Wayward High and we all hurry to get off. It’s halfway through my lunch period and I pull out my phone to find out where Beth and Delilah are.

  “Awesome game!” my teammate says as she grabs me into a hug. My skin sizzles under her cross earring, just under my ear. I grunt in pain as it sears into my flesh.

  Before my teammate realizes what she’s done she runs off to hug everyone else. I grind my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, holding in a scream. After a few shaky moments, I take a deep breath and make my way into the school.

  The cross burn firmly shut Ithinara up.