Juliet Immortal (17 page)

T
he next morning I sit in the coffee shop, clutching a mug of tea and trying not to panic.

It looks like Gemma isn’t going to show. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was so angry last night. I should have known that the text she sent me at two in the morning—promising she’d meet me at the bakery at seven—was simply to get me to stop calling.

I check the clock. Seven-thirty.

I try to tell myself it’s okay, I can talk to her at school, but it makes me sick to waste a second of my day without Romeo. The pancake ball I ate churns in my stomach, a rock that refuses to be digested. It tastes different than Ariel remembers. At
least, I think it does. Ariel’s memories are thready today, a fog I can’t see through, a scent I can’t name. I’m too full of my own worries and fears, the Juliet inside me crowding out the girl I’m pretending to be.

My dreams were horrific again last night. Corpses come to life, blood on a blue dress, and the cold, immovable walls of the tomb where I once screamed for help until blood ran down my parched throat. And then … the mist, nothing but the mist, stretching on forever.

Forever
.

What if Romeo’s right? What if I’m a fool for spending one of my last days on earth attending to Ambassador business?

I glance up, bite my lip. Seven-thirty-three.

I can practically hear the clock tick from across the room. The bakery is unusually quiet. Far fewer customers come to claim their morning fare, and those who do sit in strained silence. It’s almost as if the world at large can feel that two lives hang in the balance.

My eyes slide to where Nancy would usually be standing behind the counter. Instead, Nancy’s daughter—a strong-faced woman with wiry black and gray hair pulled into a long braid—plucks bear claws from the case and delivers coffee into the hands of teachers, students, and shopkeepers. She looks sad, worried, as if she’s having a hard time managing the few customers even with another woman I don’t recognize helping her. Probably best if I give her one less person to worry about.

Just when I’ve given up and begun to gather my things, the bell above the door tinkles and Gemma shoves her way inside. She finds me in the corner booth and shoots me a glare that could melt bones as my jaw drops in shock.

Her aura is on
fire
this morning, burning a bright, strong red. Her time alone with Ben last night accomplished more than I’d hoped.

One soul mate down; one to go
.

Ben must not be ready yet, or I wouldn’t be sitting here. The moment both auras catch flame, I’m always pulled back to the mist. Unless …

If I see Ben today and his aura has changed as well, then I’ll know there’s no going back. I’ll have to decide: join Romeo or let the specter of my soul take me. I know I should be afraid for my future, but all I can think about is Ben and how it kills me to think of him glowing the cherry-red-of-no-return for Gemma. For anyone except …

No. I won’t think it. I
won’t
.

“Hey.” I force a smile, pushing my worries from my mind as Gemma stalks toward me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She stops next to the booth but doesn’t sit down. She stands, arms crossed, looking down at me, making me squirm. “Yeah. I could tell. I just don’t know what you’re so happy about. Everyone else is totally freaked.”

“Why?”

“Have you not turned on a television or computer in the past fifteen hours?” She rolls her eyes. “Wow, you must have been hot for Dylan last night not to—”

“I wasn’t with Dylan last night, Gemma,” I say. “And I want to explain what—”

“Nancy is
missing
,” Gemma says, dismissing my explanation with an impatient wave before I can make it. “It’s all over Facebook.”

The thought throws me. “Missing?”

“Like officially a missing person, reported to the police, on the nightly news, would be coming to an Amber Alert near you if they did that for old people.”

“Oh no.” Her poor daughter; no wonder she looks so upset. “That’s awful.”

“Well, it’s been an awful few days.” Gemma’s scowl deepens. “I can’t believe you and Dylan … I mean, I expect lies from him, but I thought you were different. I thought that innocent act was real.”

“Gemma, please,” I say, keeping my tone gentle. “What about everything you said to me in the car? About staying away from Dylan? Wasn’t that a lie?”

“That wasn’t a lie. That was good advice.” She looks out the rain-streaked glass next to my booth. It’s another horrible, rainy, miserable day, and I’m beginning to think I’ll never see the sun again. “But you’re right, I guess. I’ve lied. You’ve lied. There’s no one you can trust.” Gemma’s brightly stained lips droop at the edges. “I should have learned that a long time ago.”

She’s wearing fuchsia lipstick today, with a bright fuchsia sundress that falls all the way to the floor and a black shrug sweater with scraps of gauze whirling off in every direction. She’s as bright and vibrant as ever, while Ariel is forgettable in another pink and brown sweater. Stripes this time. Ariel seems to have a dozen versions of the same sweater, equally plain and uninspired. She and Gemma are so different. It’s amazing they’ve stayed friends for as long as they have.

But they
have
, and it doesn’t matter what I think. I can’t let Ariel lose this friendship. I could be gone by the end of the day.

“Gemma, please.” I scoot to the edge of the booth and stand up, facing her. “I’ve never lied to you. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you were,” she says. “You were thinking I wouldn’t like what you had to say.”

“And you did the same thing,” I say. “Can’t we just forgive each other and—”

“I
know
I’ve done the same thing,” Gemma says, anger creeping into her voice. “And I should have
kept
doing it.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused by her words, her obvious anger. She’s glowing with love; shouldn’t she be … 
happier
? Kinder?

“I should never have introduced you to Ben.”

My lips part. How can she say that? When all I’ve done is try to help her and Ben get closer together?

And replayed every word he said a thousand times in your head
.

“I’m not stupid, Ariel.”

And held the memory of each time he touched you so tight to your chest you could barely breathe
.

Gemma’s mouth curves into a humorless smile. “It’s tragically obvious.”

And secretly thought Ben might be better off … with
you.

“I know you have a crush on him.”

“I do not.” It’s the truth. I have something much worse than a crush. I have sinful, traitorous, forbidden feelings. Feelings I’ve only had once before, seven hundred years ago when I fell in love for the first time. For what I’d assumed would be the
last
time …

God, can I really be … Can I …

I haven’t dared to think about
that
, but now, there’s no denying that it feels true. The thought of Ben burning red for Gemma makes me want to die. Why would that be unless … Unless …

I shake my head, dizzy with the unspeakable possibility.
“No. Ben is just a friend. I’m with Dylan. You saw that yourself last night.”

“Making out with Dylan means nothing. Less than nothing.” She curses beneath her breath. “I mean, how stupid do you think I am? I can see what you’re trying to do and it’s pathetic.”

“What?”

She pauses, surveying me through narrowed eyes. “You heard me … you’re pathetic.”

I barely resist the urge to tell her to go to hell. “That’s mean, Gemma.”

“You know what’s mean? Playing with other people’s toys. Don’t think I can’t see you working Ben, trying to make him jealous.” Her tone lilts up and down, each word more mocking than the last. “To make him so worried about poor Ariel that he needs to spend more time by your side, protecting you from your big, bad, abusive boyfriend. He told me about Dylan smashing in his window, and how you had some sort of fainting attack in the theater and he had to
hold
you.” She laughs, the nastiest laugh I’ve ever heard. “I mean,
really
, Ariel … that’s just … You should be embarrassed. When have you ever fainted? Ever?”

“Gemma, I don’t know—”

“But Ben isn’t interested in protecting you, and Dylan doesn’t
love
you or whatever you’re imagining,” she says, hitching her purse over her shoulder. “He doesn’t love anyone, and you’re not capable of playing this kind of game. So quit trying to steal my life! It was a stupid life, even when it was mine.”

Now I’m completely baffled. Gemma isn’t making sense, and it’s harder than ever to stomach that this cruel person is the girl Ben loves. Still, I fight for control, to keep my goal in mind,
to remember that I’m doing this for Ben, to protect him. “Gemma, I’m not playing games. I promise. I just want—”

“Save it, Ariel.” She backs away, shaking her head in disgust. “But you need to stop embarrassing yourself. Ben’s not interested, and everyone knows Dylan only slept with you because of that bet.”

Her words hit my chest, knocking the wind out of me. People know about the bet? Romeo told people Dylan and Ariel … I haven’t heard a whisper of gossip at school, but then, how would I? When no one talks to Ariel except Gemma and Ben? And now they won’t talk to her either. She’ll come back to this body miserable and alone and shamed and it’s all my fault.

I stare after Gemma, lost in a rush of emotion. “Please, Gemma—”

“Sorry, Ariel. I don’t have time for your head games right now. I have some enormous decisions to make, and you need to work on being less of a freak.”

I flinch. How can she say these things? To her best friend? To a girl who stepped miles outside her comfort zone to keep Gemma from being kicked out of the drama club production? To a girl who’s said nothing but nice things
to
Gemma and
about
Gemma for as long as they’ve been friends? Gemma is a vindictive, selfish, spoiled girl who doesn’t deserve Ariel and certainly doesn’t deserve Ben’s love.

I suddenly
hate
her.
Hate
. It’s tempting to tell her so, to tell her that Ben won’t even admit to being her boyfriend and doesn’t think he’s in love with her, to destroy any chance of reaching her with a few sharp, deadly words.

Instead, I fist my hands so tight my nails cut into my palms.

Gemma isn’t just any girl. She’s the soul mate I’ve been
sent to protect. Until Ben’s aura is as bright as hers, I can’t afford to burn any bridges. And as for Ariel … I have to let her make this decision, to hopefully work up the nerve to end things with this “friend” who reminds me more and more of my worst enemy.

“Later, Ariel,” Gemma says, snatching her keys from the table as she backs away. “It’s been real.”

“Wait, Gemma!” I lower my voice as heads turn in our direction. “Gemma.”

But secretly, I’m relieved to see her rush out the door and run through the rain to where I parked her car down the street. I don’t know what I would have said, and in a way Gemma isn’t my problem anymore. Her heart is secure. Once an aura goes red, there’s no going back. Now I just have to find Ben and say whatever has to be said to help him finish falling for this girl who’s just treated me like garbage.

The thought makes me want to weep with frustration, to rage at the universe for its unfairness. Instead, I grab my backpack and head for the door, ignoring the stares of the other students scattered throughout the coffee shop. I step outside and pause under the awning, cursing when I see how hard it’s raining and realize I left my umbrella in the backseat of Gemma’s car. Just another little thing to hate her for.

The door tinkles behind me. “Hey. What’s up?” I turn to see Jason Kim, Dylan’s friend, easing through the door. I hadn’t noticed him inside, but then, snakes are good at camouflage. He lifts his chin as he comes to stand beside me, carrying the musty smell of leather along with him. Today he’s wearing a brown motorcycle jacket with patches stitched on the arms, and jeans so dark they’re nearly black.

His eyes track up and down, and he wrinkles his nose at my cheap sweater. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks.” I ignore his sarcastic tone and drop my gaze to the sidewalk. Ariel is afraid of this boy. She wouldn’t want to attract any more of his attention. Maybe if I stand here under the awning staring at the ground long enough he’ll get the hint and go away.

“You are
so
welcome.” I can hear his grin even before I look up. His teeth shine so white they’re almost blue. “You know, Dylan’s been talking about you. A lot.”

“Really?” My stomach cramps. Just what I need, more Romeo-inspired drama to deal with. For a man who says he wants to “work together,” he’s done his share to make my borrowed life a misery.

“Yeah. He had a really good time Monday night.” He hesitates, smile spoiling into a smirk. “What about you? You have a good time?”

“It was fine.”

“Fine?” His thin black eyebrows arch closer to his spiked hair. “That’s it?”

“Yes, it was fine.”

“Wow, I’d think a night like that …” He takes a step closer to the edge of the awning, holding a hand out to play in the water spilling down to the road. “For a guy that would be a huge deal. In the cool way. I think it should be the same for a girl. I’m all about women’s rights. My mom’s a lawyer.”

I tilt my head to one side, trying to find some logic in what Jason has just said. He turns back to me, leaning so close I can smell the hint of coffee on his breath. “Dylan and the new guy. You did them both, right? On the same night?”

“What?” Romeo. I’m going to kill him.

“I didn’t believe it at first. Dylan’s my boy, but he’s a liar.” Jason’s voice drops to a whisper. “But that Luna kid is in my gym class, and he said it was true too.”

I don’t believe it. Not for second. “You’re lying.”

“I swear that’s what he said. And he seems like an honest guy. Don’t you think?”

Behind us, the door dings—once, twice—teachers and students starting toward school. I give Jason my blankest stare. “Why are you talking to me?”

“We’ve gone to school together since third grade, Ariel,” he says with a condescending laugh. “Why shouldn’t I talk to you?”