Briar Rose (7 page)

Briar’s cheeks burned as if someone had doused them with gasoline and set them on fire.
Ohmigod.
Her ex had told the world they’d slept together. That’s why the others
were laughing. They thought she and Pat were out here getting naked.

How many people had read this and believed it was the truth? Mrs Parker had said she didn’t believe the rumours. Is that what she meant? Did the whole town know?

Of course they do. That lying piece of . . .

Briar threw the phone back at Pat and took off at a run, her stomach close to heaving, frantic to find Reena and get out of here.

If this really was her last night on earth, it had just become a total disaster.

By the time Briar made the journey from the mill to the lake, she was crying and furious at the same time. She heard Pat behind her, calling her name, but she kept moving,
desperate to find her friend.

Faces turned towards her as she ran up the path. Some showed concern, others were sneering.

‘Couldn’t handle him, huh?’ one of the girls said.

‘Briar?’ her friend called out, and hurried over. When Reena saw her tears, her eyes narrowed. ‘What happened? What did he do to you?’

‘He thinks . . . Did you know what Mike is saying about me? That he and I – went all the way?’

‘What? her friend blurted.

‘Yeah, on Facebook. Now everyone thinks I’m a slut who’ll put out for any guy who asks,’ Briar retorted, fury warring with mortal embarrassment. ‘That’s all
Pat wanted. You were right about him.’

Sniggers came from some of the other kids, who’d gathered around to witness her mortification.

‘Hey, if the shoe fits,’ one of the guys called out, then laughed.

Briar glared the offender, a classmate who should have known better. ‘It doesn’t fit. It never will.’

‘Briar, look I’m—’ Pat began as he caught up with her.

She whirled round, waving a finger at him like a weapon, bringing him to a halt. ‘You stay away from me, you jerk!’

‘Hey, I’m sorry. No harm, no foul,’ he said, raising his hands in surrender, but he didn’t appear that upset. More disappointed than anything.

‘Just so we’re clear – Mike lied. We
never
went that far.’

‘All you girls say that,’ one of the guys called out, then yelped when his girlfriend smacked him on the arm.

Briar zeroed in on Mike’s braying laughter as it was the loudest. For once she wished she was a guy – she’d flatten him in front of all the others and kick him when he was
down.

‘I want to hurt him so bad,’ Briar said, her hands clenching into tight fists.

‘Makes two of us, but now’s not the time,’ Reena said, taking her arm. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Jeers accompanied them across the parking lot. Just as they just reached Reena’s car, Joshua caught up with them.

‘What happened with Pat?’ he insisted. ‘What’d he do to make you cry?’

‘Why do you care?’ Briar snapped.

‘Come on, tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?’

Why would a Quinn give a damn?

‘He needs to know,’ Reena said, unusually solemn. ‘I’ll be in the car. Don’t take too long.’

Briar leaned against the vehicle, not caring if her jeans got dirty now that her whole evening, her life, was ruined. She folded her arms over her chest, heart thudding and felt another tear
roll down her cheek.

‘What did Daniels do to you? Just tell me,’ Joshua asked, closer now, but not so close that it made her uncomfortable.

‘He didn’t do anything bad. We just . . . kissed.’ Which had been great until he’d ruined it.

‘Then why are you crying?’

‘It was Mike,’ she said, and then spilt the details of her ex’s sick joke.

Joshua’s mouth dropped open as unexpected fire ignited in his eyes.

‘That bastard,’ he said. ‘And Daniels is just as bad. He shouldn’t believe rumours.’

There was irony for you – her family’s enemy sticking up for her.

With deep-seated regret Briar realized that Joshua had been really cool all along and she had never been allowed to see it.

She wiped away the tears. ‘You’ve been really sweet, even if you are a . . . well, you know. Thanks for the present. I love it.’

Right on cue, Joshua looked embarrassed. Thankfully, Kerry provided the perfect distraction, proudly bringing a stick, which she dropped at Briar’s feet.

‘It’s never been fair what our parents did. I don’t . . . hate you. Never did.’

He smiled. ‘I never hated you, either.’

The passenger-side window rolled down. ‘We need to get you home. It’s eleven fifteen.’

‘You better go,’ Joshua said. ‘Don’t want you to get into trouble.’

Like it would matter. What would my parents do? Ground me? Can’t do that if the curse is real.

As she saw it, not being around tomorrow might actually be a good thing.

Briar dejectedly climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt. As they backed up, she found herself watching Joshua. He was kneeling now, his arms round his dog. On impulse, she gave a wave and
he returned it. He seemed so sad, lost even.

‘You never knew Josh really liked you?’ Reena asked softly as she pulled out of the parking lot.

‘No. Not much we could have done about it anyway.’ Briar took a deep breath. ‘You know what my mom’s like and his mother’s even worse.’

‘Yeah. He got grounded last spring because of you.’

‘Me?’ she asked, shocked. ‘Why?’

‘You were standing near him at a basketball game. You didn’t know he was there, too caught up in the game I guess, but his mom heard about it. She went ballistic. Josh said his dad
stood up for him, but it was still really ugly.’

‘Wow, I didn’t know that. What is it with adults? Why are they so mean?’

‘Sometimes they’re that way because they’re scared,’ Reena replied.

Before Briar could ask what Mrs Quinn feared, her cellphone pinged. It was her dad asking if she was headed home. She texted back that they were on the way.

A fat tear rolled down Reena’s face, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her nails blanched.

Oh, man.
‘Hey, it’s OK,’ Briar lied. ‘This curse thing . . . it’s not going to happen.’

Reena didn’t reply as another tear coursed down her cheek, following the one before it.

Trembling, Briar laid her head against the side window and watched as the car’s headlights spotlighted the trees along the road, like candid snapshots of her life. If this really was the
end, had she made a mistake turning Pat down? What would it have been like? Would it have been good or . . . What else would she regret not doing?

As they passed the roadside memorial, Briar wondered if her family would build her one, leave a cupcake in remembrance on the anniversary of her death. Remember her for what she was, not the
lies others had told.

It’s not real. It can’t be.

But Reena’s silent tears told a different story.

As Reena pulled into the driveway, Briar’s parents were waiting for her. They sat on the front steps as ambitious bugs flitted around the porch lights. Though her
mom’s eyes were dry now, her father’s were red and puffy. Both of them seemed to have aged in the last couple of hours.

What really ended Briar’s doubts was her friend’s great-grandmother, parked on the porch swing, her feet dangling in the air as she rocked back and forth. Tiny and birdlike, with
silver hair and mahogany skin, Lily Foster held a Bible in her hands.

If she was here, then the curse was for real.

It can’t be . . .

Briar fumbled with the door latch and then was outside the car. Lily looked up at her and she swore the woman could see right into her heart.

Is it true?

The old woman nodded in return.

‘Oh my God,’ Briar said, her knees hitting the lawn as her will to stand vanished. ‘It’s real. It’s really . . . true.’

Her parents were at her side now.

‘Mom? Dad?’

They all collided in a big hug.

‘I’m so sorry, Briar,’ her father said, touching her hair. ‘I never believed . . .’ He raised his head to look over his shoulder at the woman on the porch.
‘Not until tonight.’

Hearing her dad so emotional shredded Briar’s heart. As she tried not to cry, the screech of grinding metal catapulted through her mind, followed by piercing screams. The nightmare again.
She began to shake, her stomach nauseous, her head pounding.

‘Get me inside,’ Briar whispered, clutching her stomach. She refused to die on her family’s front lawn and give the neighbours something to talk about. She could hear it now:
Did you see that Rose girl? Just belly flopped on to the grass like a dead carp. Got cursed, I heard. Can you believe it?

Her mom helped her into the house, through the front room and past the kitchen where a mound of tissues sat on the table next to three empty cups. As they made their way up the stairs, there was
muted conversation behind her, Reena and Lily talking about something. Her friend’s voice was trembling, bordering on panic.

Once Briar reached her room the nausea had passed and with her mom’s help she stripped off her make-up.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said, staring at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Why me? What have I done to anyone?’

‘It isn’t your fault. It never was.’

Briar’s anger burned brighter. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why wait until today? I could have done . . . . things.’

‘I just couldn’t tell you,’ was the soft reply.

Oh, God.
She could rage at her mother until midnight, shout and curse about the unfairness of it all. Then what? She’d just be leaving all the pain on her mom’s shoulders.
Mom has enough.

Briar sighed and donned her favourite
I’m a Princess
nightshirt. It seemed the right choice.

What will they bury me in?
Probably that sunny yellow dress she’d worn to church last Easter. She could still remember that day because she’d seen Joshua there, minus his
parents. He’d made sure to sit a number of pews away, maintaining that required distance. What would he think when he found out she was dead?

Her mother was strangely calm now, loaning strength to her daughter. In her own way she was helping Briar get through this final night with dignity.

‘I love you, Mom,’ she said.

‘I love you, too. I am so sorry this has happened.’

Standing behind her, her mother combed Briar’s hair and braided it just like she had ever since Briar was little, making soothing noises as she did so. When their eyes met in the mirror,
her mother’s were brimming with tears.

‘Who did this to me?’ Briar asked.

‘Someone who was very angry. Someone who couldn’t forgive,’ her mom replied. ‘It is not important who it was, Briar. She will be punished for the rest of her
life.’

She?

Her mother finished the French braid. Out of habit, Briar smoothed it with her hands, admiring the intricate weave.

‘What’s this?’ her mom asked, pointing at the charm bracelet.

‘Ah, a birthday present.’
Please don’t ask who gave it to me.

‘It’s very nice. Did you have a good time . . . at the party?’

Just tell her.
‘I found out that . . . Mike’s been spreading lies about me. He’s telling people we went . . . all the way.’ Briar held her breath, waiting for
the reaction.

Her mom touched her cheek. ‘I know, honey. I heard about it.’

‘What?’
Oh, crap.
‘Does Dad know?’

Her mom shook her head. At least that was some good news.

‘I didn’t believe it. You’re smarter than that. You always have been. I haven’t given you credit enough for that.’

They hugged and for once Briar wished she was still a little kid. They had had an evening ritual: her mom would braid her hair, her dad would read her a story, then she’d fall asleep
knowing everything would be all right. Those days were gone.

She climbed into her bed. When she found the pillows weren’t right, Briar added an extra one so she could sit up, not stare at the ceiling like a corpse.

God, am I morbid.
It was hard not to be.

From downstairs came the mournful chimes of the antique mantel clock tolling the three-quarter hour. A coarse shiver rippled through her body.

Fifteen minutes to go.

After a tap on the door, Briar’s father and Reena entered the room. Her best friend’s eyes were swollen and she kept sniffling. Right behind them was Gran Lily, who looked like a
wizened little doll with those all-seeing eyes.

Lily took possession of Briar’s study chair, shuffling it round so that it sat next to the bed. ‘Good evenin’, child,’ she said as she settled into it.

Briar sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Please – Lily, I don’t want to die! Isn’t there any way you can stop this?’

‘No, we can’t.’

She detected something in Lily’s tone that sounded off, like the old woman was shading the truth. She had a million questions but she couldn’t quite form the words. ‘Am I going
to throw up or my head spin round or something?’

‘No. Ya’ll just fall asleep. Reena and me are here to help ya cross over,’ she said in her thick South Georgia accent.