Broken Spell (10 page)

Greta drives Yara and me to Boulder’s party. The three of us trapped in a car is uncomfortable for all: we can sense one another’s energy. As we approach the house, the scene reminds me of a concert entrance. Greenwood’s narrow streets, already crowded by residents’ cars, cannot handle the influx of partygoers. We go around the block. The roads around his house have cars parked so close their bumpers touch. A couple of guys are reading the public parking rules.

“Park in any spot,” Yara tells Greta. “They don’t charge after six.”

Greta can’t find a space, so she leaves the car in the parking lot of a grocery store. “I’ll have to move it later so they don’t tow it.”

We walk to Boulder’s. I have only been there once for a barbecue, weeks ago. The windows, previously damaged by the earthquake, are fixed, and the house, bright with party lights, feels bigger this time.

Drake is waiting for me at the front of the house. He waves, approaches, and gives me a kiss. When we disentangle, I glance at Yara and see her cheeks flushing.

“Big party. Do his parents have a clue?” Greta asks Drake.

“He actually has their blessing,” Drake says. “They are going to have a night out and sleep at a fancy hotel downtown.” He shakes his head. “Boulder is very persuasive.”

“Oh, yeah, he is,” Greta says. I look at her, puzzled.

“Priscilla is already inside,” Drake tells me. “She was looking for you.”

“I’ll find her.” But then the thought of leaving him with Yara makes me uneasy. I grab him by the scruff of his shirt and pull him to me. I plant a passionate kiss on his lips that lasts too long. Having marked my territory, I make my way into the house, not bothering to look back at any of them.

A guy by the door shakes a hemp cloth bag in front of me. “Keys?” He wears a white cowboy hat with a scribbled note saying “Keymaster!!” pinned on it.

“I didn’t drive.”

He looks at me suspiciously. “Who drove you?”

“Greta.”

He lowers the bag and motions for me to enter. The party is going on strong. No seats are available, and a few girls are already seated on their boyfriends’ laps. Daft Punk is playing loudly on the speakers. Red plastic cups cover the mantel and the windowsills.

I find Priscilla on the deck. She’s alone and holding a
Jamba Juice cup.

“Hey, Pri,” I yell. The music is louder here.

Pri doesn’t wave or smile. She just glances at a guy with a goatee behind a table with speakers. She points to her ear and then across the backyard.

I nod and follow her. She is way too serious.

When we’re away from the speakers, I ask, “Is that the DJ?”

“Yep. Don’t know why we need one. An iPod with a decent playlist would do.” She takes a sip.

She’s acting weird tonight. “Hey, nice outfit,” I say, trying to make her loosen up.

“Thanks,” she says automatically.

“Pri. Is anything wrong?”

She stares at me and says, “I don’t know, Skye. Is it?”

“What do you mean?”

Her stare lasts longer this time. “You don’t even know, do you?” She scoffs.

“Pri, just talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I expected you’d spend more time with Drake. But I also expected more of you. What’s up with the Weird Sisters and you? Listen, I’m not trying to go all Single White Female on you, but I’ve seen this before. So-called friends who jump ship—”

“Hold on! ‘So-called’ friends? Is that supposed to be me?”

“What do you think? You don’t call. We never talk. We don’t go out anymore. When you need a lift, you don’t even think of me.”

Oh, so that’s it. “Pri, it’s not like that.”

“Really? So what’s it like, then?”

I have no answer. I can’t tell her Greta, Yara, and I are Sisters. And I cannot think of any other reason why I’d be connected with them, to be honest.

“I was just trying to make friends,” I say. It’s lame, and we both know it.

Her disappointed eyes zero in on me. “You don’t need to ditch your old ones to do that.”

“I didn’t!”

“Look, Skye. I was alone before you arrived. I thought you and I were true—Oh, great!” She stops herself, looking past me. I glance over my shoulder.

“Hey, girlfriends,” Greta says. “Refreshments?” She’s holding two red cups.

Pri’s expression turns dark for good. She pushes past me and bumps Greta on her way.

The drink spills on Greta, but that’s not what worries her. “What did I do? Did I piss her off?”

“No. I did.”

Priscilla disappears to the other side of the backyard.

Boulder is holding court in the back. When he sees me, he excuses himself and points to the backyard.

“Welcome to Boulder’s abode! Where all hours are happy!”

Despite his words, he is serious. We sit by the tree stumps around the fire pit. We’re away from people, and I wonder what his weird expression means.

He asks, “Where’s the fiancée?”

“With her girlfriends, I guess.”

“Congrats on the wedding, D-Man. But it’s not about getting the girl; it’s about keeping her.”

“Aren’t you deep this evening, Boulder? And you’ve told me that already.”

“I mean it. Take me, for example. I got Priscilla—”

“
Everybody
got Priscilla, big guy. You’re not together. Sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me.” I’m still pissed that Boulder dissed me earlier.

Boulder growls. “That’s not cool.”

“I know. That was uncalled for. I should keep my mouth shut.”

“No, man, that’s okay.” He relaxes. “Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? This is me talking.”

“Are you already drunk?” I ask. He’s not slurring words, but still.

“What does it matter? I’m trying to tell you: I got her. As in, I
get
her. I understand how she thinks. We have—had—a connection. It was a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, a thing. Don’t look at me like that; you know exactly what I’m talking about. But she got scared.”

A loud curse cuts through the music and chatter. We both look. Two guys start a shoving match by the fence. Nobody tries to prevent it, and they end up stopping themselves.

I turn to Boulder. “So what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is…”

“Is…?”

“People.”

“People?”

“People know me, D. They come to talk. They laugh—maybe with me, maybe at me. We hang out. But they don’t care about me. People don’t love me.”

I say the only possible thing I can. “I love you, man.”

He doesn’t laugh. “Well, you’re not really my type. Thanks, anyway. You and Sean are solid. But…” He gestures aimlessly.

I try to encourage him to keep talking. “But?” I wait for him to finish his thought, but he doesn’t. I know he wants to, so I ask, “Who do you want to love you, big man? People? The school? The city of Seattle? A girl? Any girl? Or Priscilla, specifically?”

He eyes me for long time with a blank expression. He is pondering if he should tell me his big secret, but he doesn’t remember he already did a couple of months ago. Under a Truth potion concocted by Skye.

“I…love that girl,” he whispers.

He looks away with a glassy stare. His shoulders sag. “She gets me. We are alike. And that’s why it will never work out. We don’t stay attached for too long. We’re two sluts.” Boulder swallows hard. “Why are we like that? Why do I have to have all the girls?”

Priscilla shows up behind him, not ten feet away from us. Her face is severe, her eyes narrowed.

Before I can warn him, Boulder rambles on. “And why is Pri such a slut? Does she have to give it away to every guy she meets?” Boulder’s rant comes out a little louder than he expected, and, as always, his voice carries. His red eyes are still oblivious to her presence.

Priscilla becomes livid. “You scumbag!”

He turns, surprised, and immediately grasps the situation. He rises, startled. “No, Priscilla, I was telling him—”

She steps forward, all rage and menace, and pokes Boulder in the chest. “I know
exactly
what you guys say about me. All of you. But I thought you respected me.”

“Pri,” I say.

“You shut up, too,” she yells at me.

“I do respect you,” Boulder says in a meek voice. I’ve never seen him so helpless.

“How? How in the world is that respect? You make fun of my boobs!”

“What? It’s just a joke, Pri.”

“It’s not a joke to me, is it? I’m a person, you moron. And you tell everybody I’m a slut!” Priscilla doesn’t care who hears it.

Boulder shakes his head. “I’ve never said that.”

Her eyes bulge. “You just did!”

“You didn’t hear it all. I was just telling him—”

“Screw you! You said to me once that you cared about me. Is that how you care for me?” She makes a dismissive gesture, almost like a slap on the air. “Forget it. I thought we at least were friends.” Priscilla looks him in the eye and says deliberately, “Never talk to me again.”

She walks away. Boulder and I—and a few partygoers—are still stunned. We’d normally hear catcalls and jokes at this point, but the fallout is too dark to go there.

Boulder slowly puts his cup on the tree stump next to him. He sits down and props his elbows on his knees. His fingertips press his temples.

We spend a few minutes like that. I have no idea what to say. But I think about it, and there’s really only one thing I can do. “Go talk to her,” I say. “Now.”

He has a blank expression. “Let her cool off.”

“
Now
, dude.”

Greta follows me back inside Boulder’s house. I keep looking for Priscilla while trying to avoid my noisy new friends. We get to the living room and find Yara furiously texting someone. I wish Pri were a witch, so I could sense her energy and track her down. Instead, I have the Weird Sisters’ signatures overwhelming my senses.

I leave the party for a while and find her car outside, around the corner. I’m glad she is not gone. I need to talk to her—even though I have no idea what to say. I get back and join Greta and Yara by the entrance.

“Any sign of her?”

“No,” Greta says. Yara doesn’t even acknowledge me.

We hear Sean’s unmistakable voice yelling, “Dude, are you trying to inhale her?”

The two of us turn to his direction. Yara raises her eyes temporarily—but her fingers don’t stop working. Sean is laughing and pointing to a couple making out on the sofa. For once, Sean is right: the junior couple is sharing a slobbery kiss. They finally stop and stare at Sean. The guy’s face is redder than the girl’s.

“Where did you learn to kiss? Do you guys need a bib?” The smirk on Sean’s face stretches for miles.

“Dude, that’s how we kiss,” the boy says, not intimidated. “Don’t be a creep.”

Sean laughs. “You are doing it wrong! Here, allow me to explain.”

“Hey,” the guy rises.

“No, not with her. Chill out.” Sean pats the guy on the shoulder, motioning him to sit down. Then he looks around the room. “A volunteer? I need a volunteer!”

Half the room is paying attention to Sean now. He relishes it.

Greta whispers, “That’s an interesting proposition.”

Priscilla barges through the French doors, coming back from the backyard. Her face is a bright shade of pink. She stops by a table, grabs a red plastic cup sitting there, and downs its contents. She makes a face
, but gets hold of another cup.

Greta notices it too. “What’s up with her?”

“Something’s wrong,” I say. Still, I hesitate to talk to her so soon.

A guy approaches Priscilla. She says something to him. The guy backs off, a surprised expression on his face.

“Hey, Pri! Come on over,” Sean yells.

She waves at Sean, but she shakes her head.

“Come on!”

Many pairs of eyes are trained on her now, and Pri, still shaking her head, crosses the dining room and approaches Sean. “What?”

“We need to teach those two freshmen how to kiss.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not kissing him.”

“Me neither.
You
,” he says, pointing to her, “are kissing
me
.” He points to himself.

“The hell I am! Is that what I am to you?”

Sean’s smile vanishes. He looks confused. “What do you mean? Just a little kiss. For fun. It’s a public service, really.”

Priscilla is not sold. “And you decided to ask the slut?”

He is taken aback. And a little offended. “No, I thought about asking my
friend
.”

People around them are uncomfortable now. I finally decide to move toward Pri. When I get close, I hear her saying, “Sean…”

“It was just a joke. It’s ruined now.”

“Come on, girl!” a blonde girl shouts. “He’s begging!”

Priscilla looks around. Most of the room is staring at her now. “What the hell.” Priscilla puts her hand on Sean’s face and kisses him on the lips.

Whistles swirl around the room. Then we hear glass breaking.

I can’t see what happened. Too many party guests are in front of me, but some of them are gasping by the French doors.

“Dude, you’re bleeding!” Drake’s voice comes from the same direction. Then I see my boyfriend making his way through the throng. I move to meet him halfway.

“What?” I ask.

“Boulder just punched the glass door. Help me get some towels.”

I follow him into the powder room while we hear some commotion in the living room.

When we come back with the towels, Greta intercepts us. “Boulder just left.”

Drake and I go outside, but we can’t find him. Then we hear an engine roaring and the screech of tires. A yellow blur appears on the street, and soon it’s gone.

“Did he take off?” Drake asks. He turns and runs inside the house. His eyes search the room quickly.

“What’s going on?” I ask him.

He
moves to the next room and answers me without slowing down. “Boulder saw Pri and Sean.” Drake is laser-focused. He gets close to the guy with the cowboy hat and grabs him by the collar. “Did you give him his keys?”

“Drake!” I try to pull him away but he doesn’t even notice me.

“No. Nobody asked for keys yet. It’s early,” the guy says. He’s taller than Drake, but scared. “Let me go.”

“You’re the
keymaster! Boulder’s drunk as hell! How can you give him the keys?”

“He lives here! He never crossed the front door. He never gave me keys to keep.”

Drake releases the guy, not bothering to apologize.

“Are you going after him?” I ask.

Drake snaps at me, “He’s in a sports car! What am I going to do, chase him? I have no idea where he went.” He gets his phone and tries to find his way outside. Again, I follow him.

Someone grabs my arm. It’s Pri. Sean is right beside her. They join us, and we all end up on the front lawn, looking at the street. Drake steps away from us, ear glued to his cell.

Priscilla asks me, “What’s going on?”

“He saw you two kissing. He’s angry. And drunk.”

Her eyes go big, and her face is ashen.

Sean looks puzzled. “So what? He’s not jealous, is he?”

“He likes her. As in, he
really
likes her,” I try to explain.

Sean doesn’t buy it. “No, no. He
had
a crush. Had. He’s over her now.” Then he turns to Priscilla. “Sorry, Pri.”

Priscilla stares at me. “What is it, Skye? Does he like me or what?”

Drake answers it for me. “Boulder is in love with you, idiot! He was just telling me when you crushed him. And then you two dumbasses had to put on a little show for him.”

I touch Drake’s arm and try to use a soothing tone. “Did you talk to him?”

“No, Boulder didn’t answer.” Drake looks down and nods toward the ground. “Blood.”

I look at the concrete driveway. A trail of sprinkled droplets of blood leads to the parkway.

Drake kicks a can and tries his cell again.

“I didn’t know,” Sean mumbles.

“Boulder?” Drake speaks into his cell. “Where are you, man?” He beckons to me and puts the cell close to my ear too.

“She stomped on my heart, D-Man…” Boulder’s crying.

Drake looks at me with worried eyes. His voice strains to sound calm. “It was nothing. A lame joke. A party game. Where are you?”

Boulder doesn’t answer at first. Then we hear, “I don’t…have nothing.”

“Come on, man, you’re not making sense. Tell me where you are, and I’ll meet you.”

On the phone, the horn of a passing car startles us.

“Dude, are you still driving? Pull over, now,” Drake says. His face, his tone: he is terrified. “Come on, stop the car. I’m picking you up, and we can talk.”

A loud screech of tires.

Then we hear Boulder’s voice cracking on the phone. “So close…”

“Boulder, pull over right now!”

A horn honks again, and then we hear a cry, and then a loud, garbled noise. It sounds like metal grinding and glass shattering. Then the horn once more, only this time, it doesn’t stop.

It never stops.