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Authors: Kimberly Pauley

Ask Me (20 page)

BOOK: Ask Me
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Shelley. It was time to pay her a visit
.

My whole body had felt itchy since the fight, like my skin was too tight for my body. I wanted to punch someone, feel my fist sink deep into flesh, stopping only at the bone and maybe not even there. To be honest, I’d been feeling like this since I’d killed Jade. It had been such an adrenaline rush. Way better than the so-called runner’s high or any sports metaphor I could think of. Better than when I’d run the guy over
.

Alive, that’s the only way I can think to really describe it. I’d finally felt alive. And I wanted that feeling again. Bad
.

This morning had made it worse. I ached all over, inside and out. It was probably stupid to go for Shelley on the same day as the fight, but I couldn’t wait anymore. On the plus side, the police wouldn’t expect it. Though, seriously, after having talked with them a few times now … they weren’t going to figure it out. I’d been careful setting up my alibi, even more so than last time. I’d set it all up. It was amazing what you could do with a little technological
know-how. Right about the time I was going to meet Shelley under the bleachers, my computer would be sending out a couple of emails and I’d be leaving a voice mail on that one cop’s work voice mail … the one taking a vacation day for his anniversary. There was no way he’d be at his desk. Thank you, Officer Pete, for sharing that tidbit where I could hear you. It always pays to pay attention
.

I put my shiny new knife and a pair of gloves in my backpack and climbed out my window. Shelley was a perfect choice. I’d never liked her, and she’d been making Aria’s life hell lately. She was a waste of space, even if she did have a ready mouth
.

A vile mouth, too. I’d never cared what she had to say in public about me. Trashing other people was her hobby, probably to make up for her own crap life. But she’d always been available for a little slap and tickle when I wanted it. It had been beyond easy to get her to agree to meet me for a little rendezvous in her favorite spot. It had always killed her that I was going out with Jade
.

Funny how things work out
.

I took the book back to my room and cocooned myself into my bed. I still felt wrong, like I couldn’t quite connect with the world, my feet floating above it. I opened it at the beginning and flipped quickly through the pages on the first Sibyl in our line. She, at least, had been celebrated. There was no way I was ever going to end up on the Sistine Chapel. It was a different world now.

A good portion of the book was taken up with a family tree of sorts, branches stretching out in every direction. Some ended quickly, others went on for years and years. One twig had been cut down at age fifteen because of a prophecy that displeased a king.
Buried alive
, someone had written. I wondered if the poor girl had known what was going to happen to her, but with the way prophecies worked, there was a good chance she had gone into it blind.

Some had kept detailed records of every prophecy they gave—or at least the important ones. Most included
their first and last predictions. I was relieved to discover that I wasn’t the only one who spouted nonsense. Lots of prophecies appeared to be gibberish at first, only to be deciphered later (usually when it was too late). I tore through several entries. There were anagrams, phrases uttered in reverse, prophecies written on oak leaves, even substitute languages. I admired the one who wrote out her prophecies on the leaves. She left them outside the entrance of her cave. If the wind scattered them, she would not help reassemble them. They were just gone, lost forever …

I paused. My mother’s name was in the book with the simple notation “passed over.” Had she ever even seen this book? If she had, had she been sad or relieved?

The one that really caught my attention, though, was a girl named Serin. Her name had been written in ink so dusky that it looked like dried blood. There were few details about her. She had died at thirteen because, it read, she had denied her gift. She had refused it. They called her
“Ağiz Konuşmuyor.”
The Mouth That Would Not Speak. How had she done it? How many refused answers had it taken for the “gift” to claim her?

Granddad came in carrying a tray with toast and water. “How are you?” he asked, probably on purpose this time. He set the tray down on the end of my bed.

“Weak as water,” I replied. He held out a slice of toast to me. I shook my head. I couldn’t eat, not yet.

He put it back on the plate. “Well, nibble on something when you can. You’re like a ghost these days, Aria, and I don’t like it.”

Me either. “I think I need to warn Shelley,” I told him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “No way, no how.”

I nodded. Driving was probably out of the question anyway, with the way I felt. But I had to warn her. She was in danger. Maybe not tonight, but something inside me said it couldn’t wait. What if Alex did do something rash? He wasn’t known for patience. “Can you bring me the phone and the phone book, Granddad?”

He nodded but pointed to the glass of water and didn’t leave until I’d taken a big sip. Then he brought in the phone and helped me to it. I slid my back down the wall by my door. He made sure I wasn’t going to fall over and then left the room. I almost wished that he’d stayed. I had no idea what I was going to say. But it wasn’t like he could call her. Shelley had never met him. The only thing stranger than getting a phone call from Aria Morse would be getting one from her grandfather.

I found Shelley’s home number in the phone book and dialed it. It rang three times before someone picked up.

“Hello,” said a female voice, at once throaty and hollow.

“Is Shelley there?”

Her mom, or at least I assumed it was her mother, didn’t bother covering up the mouthpiece as she yelled, “Shelley! Phone for you! Don’t stay on long. I’m expecting a call on the home phone!”

“Who is it?” I heard Shelley yell back.

“The bearer of bad news,” I whispered, but I needn’t have bothered as her mother wasn’t listening to me.

“Some girl,” she shouted. “Just pick up the damn phone!”

I heard a click as Shelley picked up. “Who is this?”
Apparently she didn’t get many calls on her landline. I couldn’t say I was surprised.

“Aria,” I said, glad of the simple answer.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Peace and safety,” I said. She snorted. “Wait, Shelley,” I pressed on, “just let me talk a minute. I’ve got to tell you something important.” I rushed through it before she could ask me anything and derail the conversation. “I’m calling to warn you. You’re in danger. Great danger. I think Alex is going to go after you. I think—”

“Oh yeah, Alex is going to come after me,” she interrupted. She laughed. It sounded like a bark. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but I’ve already got plans tonight and they don’t involve this stupid shit. You got issues with your little boy toy, you handle them on your own time. I’m not your relationship coach.”

“Wait,” I said. “I’m serious! You’re in danger! He’s going to try and kill you!”

“You really are a freak, you know that?”

She hung up, missing my affirmative answer.

“ARIA,” SAID GRANDDAD WHEN
I made my appearance at the breakfast table the next morning, “Stay home today. You’re looking pretty pale still.”

I didn’t say anything, just sat down at the table.

“Yes, Aria,” said Gran. “Until we know what’s going on, maybe you should stay home.”

That brought my head up. “You think I should stay home?”

“Yes.” Gran sat down across from me. “We don’t know
what we’re up against. But we do know that you’re in danger. Bad things are coming. That much is very clear.”

I held up my hand. “Bad things are my life,” I countered. “I’m going to school. Maybe if I talk to Shelley in person she’ll believe me. I’ve got to try.” I grabbed a piece of plain toast to appease my stomach and my grandparents and turned to go.

Granddad followed me out of the house. “Aria, I know you’re upset but—”

“Please.” I spun around. “Granddad, all I figured out last night is that this stupid
curse
has ruined my life. Or might even be the death of me unless I can figure out what’s going on. And did you know that almost every single one of us lost their gift before my age?” The starting ages had varied, seemingly tied to puberty, but the ending age mostly hovered around fifteen or sixteen. “What if it doesn’t go away, Granddad? What am I supposed to do with my life?”

He rubbed a hand across his white stubbled cheek, the rough rasp a counterweight to his sigh. He hadn’t shaved for two days. The stubble made him look older and tired. “Your Gran was seventeen when she lost it, same as you are now …” His voice seemed to run out of steam. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I can’t understand what you’re going through. It hasn’t been easy for you. But you know your Gran would take your burden from you if she could and bear it for you.”

I tried not to laugh. “She wouldn’t want my burden,” I said. “You know what
her
last question was? Something about lunch.” I turned to go.

“Aria,” he said again. “Hold on just a minute. I have something for you.”

I stopped, even though I really wanted to get away. Granddad held out his old bone-handled army knife to me. “I know you can’t take it into school with you or anything, but I’d feel better if you at least had something in your car. We need to get you a cell phone, too. Time to move into this century, I suppose.”

“I—” I wasn’t sure what to say. He meant well. I took the knife and dropped it in my car. “Thanks, Granddad. I’ll see you later.”

I turned around and got in my car. Granddad took a few steps away so I could back up. My window was still down from the day before, and I gave him a small wave as I drove away. It wasn’t his fault. He’d married into the weirdness. Me, I’d been born into it. I didn’t have a choice, exactly, but no matter what, I wouldn’t kill something. There are lines you shouldn’t cross. Lines I would not cross.

I drove listening to a song by The Damnwells. It was another of Will’s picks. I wished someone could keep the bad things away. That’s all there seemed to be anymore.

I kept my headphones on all the way through biology class. Mr. German had a cold or the flu or something and kept his head down on his desk through our entire lab. We were supposed to be cutting up earthworms, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not today. I kept transferring the slimy thing from one dish to another and moving things around my lab table to look busy. I snuck it back into the wriggling mass of worms left in the bin at the end of class while Mr. German was blowing his nose. Someone might
pick that same worm out in the next class, but at least its end wouldn’t be by my hand.

I kept practicing what I’d say to Shelley when I got to home ec with her. I had to make her understand. Maybe face-to-face she wouldn’t be able to dismiss me. And maybe martians would land and take us all away. Maybe Delilah could back me up? Two against one were better odds when it came to Shelley.

I was passing by the main entrance on my way to English when I heard the unmistakable
wheee-yoooo
of police sirens. I stopped and looked through the thin rectangular glass window in the door. Three, no, four, police cars with lights blazing pulled into the parking lot. A few other kids stopped behind me to look through the window as well. Most of the police officers got out of their cars and rushed toward the football field. Then an ambulance came screaming into the parking lot. More sirens. They blended strangely with the ethereal Florence + the Machine song playing in my ears.

“What happened?” someone shouted right behind me. Asking the universe, apparently, but lucky them, here I was to answer.

“Coach Townsend found Shelley under the bleachers,” I answered.

“How do you know?” asked the same person, quieter this time, but still trying to compete with the sirens, so I heard her. I turned. A freshman girl I didn’t really know, not like I really knew anyone around here.

“I don’t,” I said, pushing my way through the crowd, my drab floral dress swishing as I fast-walked away. I had a sinking feeling I knew what the next questions would be
and where they would lead. I clung to a childish hope that Shelley was merely out there for some weird prank, but I knew that wasn’t it. They wouldn’t have called the police and an ambulance if that were the case, not even if she were out there dancing naked.

I’d almost made it to my next class for lack of a better idea when an announcement came over the speaker system.

“All students, please report to the gym immediately.” It was Principal James, his voice sad and resigned. “This is not a drill. Go directly to the gym for an emergency assembly. Teachers, follow all emergency procedures.”

I stopped in place, letting the other students flow around me. I flicked the volume up as high as it would go. I didn’t want to go in there. I knew what he was going to say. Shelley was dead. And it was all my fault. I should have gone to the police, should have driven to her house, something,
anything
instead of flipping through an ancient book full of dust and memories. While I’d been reading, Shelley had already been on the way to her doom. How had Alex gotten to her? Who was going to be next? Would it be me? He’d seemed so angry the last time we’d talked. Of course his anger hadn’t been directed at me. It hadn’t been directed at Shelley, either.

BOOK: Ask Me
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