Fury (6 page)

Everything was going to be okay.

“So, was there a party tonight?” Ty asked once they were in the car. He could barely resist the urge to brush the snowflakes from her hair, to lean over and breathe in her musky, floral scent. As he put the car in drive, he felt like he was launching a spaceship into the night, into the snow. He and Ty would explore the dark, winding roads and stark, branch-lined fields.

“Yeah, a Christmas party–type thing,” he said, mentally kicking himself for sounding so uncool. She was probably picturing people dancing around in elf costumes. He quickly added, “You know, just a bunch of kids I know.”

“Sounds like fun. I
love
parties,” Ty said, smiling at him in the dark. “Don’t you wish we could go back to having parties like they did centuries ago? With dance cards and formal invitations and choreographed dances? Or masquerade balls? I’d
love
to go to a masked party. Wouldn’t you?”

“Totally,” he said, thankful she hadn’t been there to see him try to set up the beer-pong game. “You, um, study history or something?” He was sure this girl must be in college.

“Or something,” Ty said, laughing. Her laugh sounded like clinking coins. Chase couldn’t think of anything else to say. He fumbled with the radio dial, trying to tune in to something sophisticated and moody.

“God, the snow is amazing,” Ty said, looking out the window. “It reminds me of that old poem. Something about the snow in the air, something something,
the secret of despair
.”

Chase was so entranced that he could barely focus on anything outside the car; the trees blended together outside his window like a movie in fast-forward. This girl was driving him crazy. It was like she was wearing one of those pheromone perfumes.

Then she turned to him, her eyes piercing. “Did you hear all those sirens before? Any idea what that was about?”

His mouth went dry. The sirens were the last thing he wanted to talk about. “Nope. Must be some kind of accident. . . . Lots of people just don’t know how to drive in this weather.”

“Nothing’s ever really an accident,” Ty said, once again smiling at him. Her eyes glittered, catlike. “Don’t you think?”

Chase didn’t really know what she meant, but he nodded anyway. One thing he was sure of: Meeting Ty was no accident.

At the gas station, Ty jumped confidently from the car.

“Want me to go in there with you?” Chase said, nodding his head toward the twenty-four-hour convenience store. Thankfully,
not
the one his mom worked at.

“No thank you, I’ve got it,” she replied, flashing a smile. He watched her go inside and pay for her gas, then saw her brush away—charmingly, still—the smitten cashier’s offer to help. Seemingly unfazed by the freezing night air, she stood by the gas pump and filled up the can. Chase got out and jogged over to her, rubbing his hands together.

“Sure you don’t need any help?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “See? Almost done.” Her pale, thin arms glowed in the light of the station as she replaced the nozzle on the gas pump. Chase thought she must be totally freezing, but she wasn’t shivering; she was smiling. He’d never seen anyone who seemed so
comfortable
, so effortless.

On the way back, Chase could hardly concentrate on keeping the car on the road. He’d hooked up with plenty of girls before, but Ty seemed older, more sophisticated than any of the girls at school. Ty was just what he needed—a girl like that could more than distract him from all the messed-up stuff in his life right now.

She’d be the perfect date for the Football Feast.

Back at the girls’ car, an old-fashioned, boxy, maroon Lincoln Town Car, Ali and Meg filled up the gas tank while Ty took Chase’s hand and led him several feet away.

“Thank god we found you,” she said, eyes glittering.

“I guess I’m just your knight in shining armor,” Chase said, gulping back a nervous laugh. He took a clumsy step forward. “You can repay me, you know.” He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, hoping she’d ignore his total lack of game and kiss him.

But Ty dodged him with another musical laugh, shaking her long red hair out of her face.

“Here,” she said, “take this.” She handed him a bloodred flower with intricate petals. He wondered where it came from, whether she’d had it in her pocket. As she put it in his hand, their fingers touched and Chase felt a spark of electricity.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this,” he said, turning it in his hand, which felt far too clumsy to be holding something so nice and fragile.

“Well, there are more where that came from,” she said, laughing again, as Ali and Meg called to her from the car. She backed away from Chase, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Can I get your number?” Chase said at the last moment.

“You’ll see me again soon,” Ty responded. “I’m sure of it.” She smiled. Her teeth were perfect.

She
was perfect.

Chase got back into his station wagon, feeling like he was hypnotized. He fumbled with the keys as he watched the Lincoln
drive away; by the time his car had sputtered to life, Ty’s taillights had faded.

But he hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet when he looked in the rearview mirror and slammed on the brakes. He could have sworn he’d seen the girls again, back there. And he could have
sworn
they were pouring gas
onto
the car. Like they were going to burn it.

Chase shook his head and quickly squeezed his eyes closed. When he looked again, the road behind him was empty and dark.
I’m overtired,
he thought.
I need to get my shit together
.

Chase gripped the wheel and pressed on the gas as snow-flakes swirled in front of his windshield, faster and faster, until what lay ahead was all a white blur.

Irreparable, or The After-Party

Em woke the next morning with a start, her head filled with the hazy, dark images of a plotless nightmare. She opened and shut her eyes a few times, trying to shake a vague feeling of fear. Rolling over, she came face-to-face with Cordy, half buried beneath the mountain of pillows that Em slept between every night.

When she saw Cordy, her heart leaped as she remembered last night: Zach’s knowing smile, his hand on her waist, his desire to hang out over vacation. Vacation, which started today. Gabby was leaving in just a few hours, and tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

Em would be on her own, free to spend time with Zach.

Except, she couldn’t. Not after what he’d said last night—did he suspect how she felt? She couldn’t let him know. Her head hurt thinking about it.

And then, faintly, from underneath the pillow, she heard
the phone ring. Gabby. Em knew that she had to answer it, but a part of her didn’t want to. She let it ring twice more before picking the phone up gingerly and saying hello.

“Hey, babe,” Gabby said brightly. “Hope I didn’t wake you! We’re leaving for the airport soon, and I wanted to say good-bye. Also, do you think I should bring that white bikini I bought last summer, or do you think that’s weird for a family trip?”

“Why would it be weird?” Em sat up, trying to get into the conversation.

“Because it’s so skimpy.”

Em laughed. Gabby did have a truly endearing sense of innocence, of wanting to make people happy. And just like that came the surge of guilt, so strong it turned Em’s stomach. Gabby was her best friend. What was she thinking?

“It’s not so bad, I don’t think. Wear it when you’re at the beach without your parents.”

“Okay. Totally. I’ll only wear it when they go sightseeing or whatever,” Gabby said, and then she sighed deeply. Em waited. Was Gabby about to say something about Zach? She wanted so badly to spill her heart, to analyze every move with Gabby the way they would have if this were any other crush. The silence made her chest hurt. She could feel her ears getting red, as they did whenever she lied. “Jeez, I’m hungover,” Gabby finally said. “I feel totally brain-dead. Good thing I get to sit on a plane for seven hours tonight.”

“Yeah, you were a little drunk last night,” Em said, remembering the way Gabby had stumbled down the hall and into Zach’s arms. He had morphed so quickly from flirtatious Zach to boyfriend Zach. “Did you throw up?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Gabby groaned. “When I got home. Thank god I didn’t do it in front of Zach. That’s the last time I drink that punch, seriously. I woke up wearing all my clothes. I even had Zach’s coat on! You didn’t ever find mine last night, did you?”

“I ransacked the bedroom. It wasn’t there. Are you sure you didn’t put it in the closet?”

Gabby sighed. “No. I definitely threw it on the bed. Oh, well. Maybe someone took it by accident or something.”

Em knew this was unlikely; Gabby’s coat, with its rhinestone heart pin and hot-pink lining, was one of her trademarks. But she said, “Yeah. Probably. I’m sure it will turn up.”

“Ugh.
Promise
me you won’t let me drink like that anymore.”

“Deal. No punch for you, lady.”

“Okay. I gotta go finish getting my stuff together,” Gabby said. “I’ll miss you so much. If I meet a hot Spaniard, I’ll totally send him your way. And seriously, I really can’t wait to hang out when I get back,” Gabby added out of the blue. “To really spend some quality time together, you know? Boston day and movies and a sleepover.”

“Have fun, Gabs,” Em said. “I’ll miss you.” As soon as she
said it, she realized how true it was. She never did anything without Gabby.

“Bye, Em. Remember to keep an eye on Zach while I’m away!”

Em swallowed down the fist in her throat. “Okay,” she croaked out.
“À bientôt, escargot!”
Em started saying this after she spent three weeks studying French the summer after freshman year. It meant “see you soon, snail.” It was ridiculous but she’d never been able to break the habit and now it had become their ritual for saying good-bye.

Gabby giggled.
“À bientôt, escargot!”

Em hung up the phone shakily. She had a pit in her stomach the size of a bowling ball and spent the rest of the day watching old episodes of
Sex and the City
on her laptop. Every time the phone beeped, she jumped, but it was only Lauren asking if Em wanted to come bake Christmas cookies with her and Fiona, or JD lamenting about how lame his cousins were. No word from Zach.

With her parents both working overnight shifts to ensure they could have Christmas Eve and Christmas off, Em had the house to herself—a treat she usually enjoyed by making up dance routines in the living room or eating ice cream during marathon phone sessions with Gabby. But tonight the house just felt big and empty. Even bigger and emptier than it felt when her parents were home.

Until, just as she was falling asleep with Cosmopolitans and Manolo Blahniks running through her head, she got a text. From Zach.

What’s on your x-mas list this year?

She couldn’t help it; she got that tingly feeling all through her body again. She read his text three times quickly. Em was so tempted to write back,
You
, but she also didn’t want to seem desperate.
A puppy!
she wrote finally, in a fit of silly squirming.

I’ll be sure Santa gets the memo. Sleep tight!

Suddenly the world didn’t feel so vast. Em clutched her phone to her beating heart, with the sudden urge to kick off her blankets and dance on the bed.

C u soon I hope,
he wrote again, signing off with a smiley face. Em melted. She was right—Zach
did
want her as bad as she wanted him. At least there was one person in the world who thought that she was special. One person who really cared.

It was impossible, all of this. She knew that. Of course she did. But it didn’t matter. This moment was all that mattered—that he was thinking about
her
.

She went to sleep that night clutching Cordy to her chest.

“Spring rolls may be the best invention known to man,” Em said, taking a delicious, steamy, crunchy bite. “I think I like them more than Twizzlers. Even better than television.”

“Big words, my friend.” JD grinned at her from between mouthfuls of pork lo mein. “Big words.”

A day after the text from Zach, she was still floating. Em’s and JD’s families had a tradition of getting together on the night before Christmas, ordering in massive amounts of Chinese food, drinking eggnog, and singing carols while decorating the Winters’ tree. (The Founts usually decorated theirs weeks earlier—Mrs. Fount was one of those people who had a whole closet devoted solely to holiday decorations.) Sure, spring rolls and eggnog were a strange—and gastronomically dangerous—combination, but it was the only way Em knew how to get into the holiday spirit.

Once the tree was decorated, Em and JD retreated to the den to watch
Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas
while JD’s little sister, Melissa, went off to chat with all her new middle school friends, and the parents cleaned up and talked.

Em was settling into food-coma mode on the couch. JD—who’d come to the Winters’ this evening dressed in what he kept referring to as a “smoking jacket” (a burgundy-colored velvet blazer that Em could not stop laughing at)—was juggling remotes and trying to turn down the volume on the TV. With his glasses sliding down his nose and his hair spiking up at various angles, he looked like a 1940s mad professor. Just as the opening credits started rolling, Em’s phone blinked and buzzed.

“Ugh, who could that possibly be,” she moaned, trying to kick the phone toward her hand. “Pass me my phone, Smokey?” But even as the words came out of her mouth, she realized that it could be Zach and she sprang to a sitting position.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could move that fast after General Tso’s,” JD said, pumping his fist as he figured out which remote was connected to the sound system. Twangy banjoes played in the background as Em flipped open her phone. Sure enough, the screen notified her of one new message—from Zach.

What u up to? Wanna come help me hang lights?

Em blushed and her heart sped up to a hum. You don’t text a girl on Christmas Eve unless you’re
really
into her.