Sword Play (15 page)

I looked down at small photos from the prom. “We had these pictures taken … just hours before … ” Her voice cracked. “See how happy we were? Smiling like nothing bad could ever happen.”

Her sadness reached out like ghostly fingers tightening around me. I could hardly breathe and fought to stay in control by focusing on the photo. The happy couple; Aileen lovely in a lavender chiffon sleeveless dress, and Kip was grinning down at her. He wore a formal jacket and pants and looked really hot, with dimples and deep-set eyes and dark wavy hair. I’d heard many hearts were broken when he’d gotten serious with Aileen. But some girls don’t consider guys hands-off even when they’re in a serious relationship. There were even football groupies who made a game of scoring with players.

After Aileen said no, had Kip found a yes with someone else?

There were more photos from prom night, several of couples I didn’t know and a group shot of football players with their dates. I gave a little gasp when I saw Tony and Brianne, although it shouldn’t have been a surprise. I’d helped her decide on the ruby red dress and experiment with different hairstyles until she’d settled on an upswept style with ringlets sweeping down her cheeks. If things had been different, Brianne and I would have hung together after the prom and giggled over who-did-what-with-whom. But that night changed everything.

The photos blurred and dizziness slammed into me. I reached for something to hold onto, only my hands slipped through air. I was jerked backwards, tumbling out of my own body, sinking into a dark void.

When I could see clearly, I wasn’t in my car anymore—instead I was with Kip on prom night. He was solid flesh, and I was the ghost. We rode together on a dark road, through inky night, lit only by the whirl of passing streetlights. The road zoomed by as Kip increased his speed.

He pulsed with fiery anger, driving with such fury that I suspected he was either being chased or doing the chasing. His knuckles on the steering wheel were pale as death and an eerie glow from the car’s dash reflected crazed purpose in his eyes.

My view shifted and I focused in on the illuminated numbers on the dash. 1:09. So the newspaper was right. But what had happened during that missing time? His passenger seat was empty except for a piece of red silky ribbon and crushed rose petals spilled like crimson drops of blood.

Ribbon and petals from a corsage.

I snapped to reality, back with Aileen in my own car.

My jaw dropped as I stared at Aileen, then down at the photos she still held in her slender fingers. She’d worn a lavender gown with a purple corsage. Not red with silk ribbon and roses, but lilacs.

Only one girl in the group photo wore red. My heart tightened and it was hard to keep from gasping. She stood on the other side of Kip, her gaze not on her own date, but smiling up adoringly at Kip. A lovely corsage with roses as bright as crimson flame was pinned to her flowing ruby gown.

Brianne.

It took more courage than I possessed to call Brianne, yet I did anyway. Only her mother, who used to say she loved me like her second daughter, lied and told me Brianne wasn’t home. She had the decency to say she was sorry, which she deserved to be. In the background, I heard Brianne’s low voice.

She wouldn’t talk to me and now I knew why. Not because we weren’t friends anymore, but because we’d been so very close; sister-friends who built imaginary kingdoms and shared secrets at sleepovers. She knew about my ghosts and feared them—feared what they would tell me. She was afraid I’d see her truth; the secret she’d tried so hard to hide.

I knew she’d been at the prom, although I never connected her to Kip. If I hadn’t been so hurt by losing her friendship, I might have thought more clearly and realized it would take something huge for her to turn against me.

Like death.

While Brianne didn’t see ghosts, she knew I did. I’d amazed her many times by knowing things without being told. If she had a guilty conscience, I was the last person she’d want around. Is that why she signed the petition? To force me out of her life to guard her secret?

As I laid in bed that night, tossing aside my covers and unable to sleep, I took scraps of facts like quilt fragments and pieced them together. Brianne had gone to the prom with Tony, but she wasn’t serious about him. In fact, she’d hinted there was another jock she liked. Was it Kip? She liked a challenge, and what was more challenging than going after a hot guy who already had a girlfriend?

Aileen and Kip left the dance early, but if the newspaper account was true, there was over two hours of unaccounted time. I flashed on the image of rose petals and red silky ribbon. Ripped, crushed, lifeless.

How had petals from Brianne’s corsage ended up in Kip’s car? What had happened between the time Kip dropped Aileen off and the accident?

Brianne would know. I fell asleep with a heavy heart and a sense of dread for what I had to do.

* * *

The next morning a strange car drove up to the house and a uniformed guy got out carrying a square silver-wrapped package.

“Delivery for Ms. Sabine Rose,” he said, smiling cheerfully when I answered the door.

“I’m Sabine,” I said with surprise

“Sign here, please?”

Curious, I signed then fished into my pocket and gave him a tip. The foil wrapped present was smooth to touch as I held it gently in my hands.

Who could it be from?
I wondered, setting it on the living room couch. It’s not my birthday and too early for Christmas. The wrapping was professional quality, with a glittery gold bow and curling silver-gold blended ribbon.

Untying the ribbon and slicing open the tape with my thumbnail, I ripped off the wrapping. Inside the box I found a ceramic night-light in the shape of a large brown dog. Only close friends knew about my night-light collection. Intrigued, I dug around in the box until I found a small silver card and read:

Sabine,

Hope you like this night-light. Doesn’t it remind you of Horse? Think of me when you use it. I wish I could see you this weekend, but Arturo needs me. I miss you.

Love, 8Josh

Arturo needs me!
I thought, tempted to fling the box across the room.

I wasn’t fooled for one moment. This wasn’t a gift; it was a bribe. Josh’s way of saying, “Here’s a pretty trinket so you won’t be angry that I’m ditching you again.” What kind of an idiot did Josh take me for? If he really missed me, he’d show up.

“Damn him!” I fumed, closing the lid on the box and tossing it aside.

Another romantic weekend was ruined. We wouldn’t have a chance to reconnect and act like the happy couple we were supposed to be. He loved me! He missed me! Well he had a terrible way of showing it. I’d been trying so hard to figure out my feelings for him, to banish all thoughts of Dominic and create a perfect relationship with Josh, but I couldn’t do it alone.

Why were Arturo’s needs more important than mine? You’d think Amazing Arturo had real powers of magic, instead of stage tricks. He’d turned my reliable, sweet boyfriend into an irresponsible jerk.

I was tempted to call Josh and let him know exactly what I thought of his precious Arturo. But if I complained, I’d only come off pathetic and whiny. And I didn’t want to be one of those needy girls who hung on their boyfriends like a noose.

“I don’t need any guy to define me,” I told myself as I picked up the gift and carried it into my bedroom. “I have plenty of friends and even a job with a boss who respects me.”

Impulsively I picked up the phone and called Mr. Landreth. He literally whooped for joy when I told him I’d changed my mind, that I would be happy to replace Annika after all.

“Take that, Josh,” I said, stabbing the air with the phone as if it were a sword and I’d just skewered my so-not devoted boyfriend.

Then I ripped his card into confetti.

* * *

Josh didn’t call. And I refused to care.

I burned up phone lines talking to Penny-Love, Manny, Thorn, and Vin. My ear was still ringing from Vin’s excitement when I told him I was temporarily returning to Foils. He was sure I’d want to stay permanently and suggested I replace Annika. “I’m sorry about her aunt, but truth is she’s not half as good as you. She only got in the group ’cause she was dating Derrick.”

“Annika and Derrick? I didn’t know they were together.”

“They aren’t any more,” Vin explained. “It only lasted a few weeks and they’re just friends now. Annika is back with some guy from her last school, and Derrick is looking. You know how relationships revolve in Foils.” He went on about his own sadly lacking love life then segued into news about people I’d used to know when I went to Arcadia High. I enjoyed listening and curled into an oversized pillow on my bed, glancing over at a dresser with fencing trophies.

The next day, I woke up with serious second thoughts.

Performing with Foils again? What had I been thinking?

Call it stage fright or a reality check, but I felt a rush of panic and wished I’d never agreed to fill in for Annika. I hadn’t even practiced with them. My skills were rusty and I wasn’t even sure my uniform fit. It probably smelled musty too, locked away in a bottom drawer for half a year. I had to call Mr. Landreth right away and tell him I couldn’t go through with the exhibition.

Maybe I would have.

But I’ll never know because after I got dressed and was brushing my hair, there was a commotion from downstairs, knocking, and then a thump of footsteps.

Then I heard someone call my name, so I went out in the hall and saw—

“Ohmygod!” I squealed, not quite believing my eyes. “Thorn! Manny!”

My Goth friend arched the silver stud in her brow and combed her black-pearl polished fingernails through her plastic-looking black-and-mauve wig. Beside her, Manny’s black dreads were beaded like rattling snakes and wiggled around his dark, grinning face. He wrapped me in a warm hug.

“Looking good, Sabine. Surprised to see us?”

“Thrilled. What are you doing here?”

“I’m wondering that, too,” Thorn said in a dry tone. I could tell she was glad to see me, but she would rather die than show emotion. She wore a pleated black skirt that trailed in an uneven hem along the carpet and black lace over a hot pink T-shirt with metal chains.

“So what’s for breakfast?” Manny asked with a glance toward the kitchen. “We left at an ungodly hour to get here and haven’t eaten. How about eggs benedict with whipped creamed waffles?”

“I wish!” I chuckled, feeling ridiculously happy. Having them here was like having a piece of my other life back, making me ache even more to move back to Sheridan Valley.

Over plain toast and cereal, I learned it was Thorn’s idea to drive here for the Renaissance Fair.

“Not to see me?” I asked teasingly.

“That too.” She shrugged. “I go to these fairs with my friends a lot to check out reproductions of swords and chains.”

“Weapons don’t interest me, but I like all the ye old English talk and costumes, especially the fair wenches in tight-laced bodices,” Manny added with a wicked grin.

Thorn smacked him on the arm, but he didn’t notice.

Having them with me eased my nervousness and gave me a boost of confidence. When I told them I would be performing with Foils, they were impressed and promised to clap louder than any other spectators.

We climbed in Thorn’s yellow jeep. I wore jeans and a sweatshirt, carrying my equipment bag and planning to switch into my Foils costume later. After parking about a mile away, we walked along a narrow dirt path to the fair and were passing through the entrance where festive flags and banners snapped in a brisk breeze. Up ahead, I caught a flash of a silver fencing shirt with the Foils emblem. For a moment I thought it was Brianne and this would be my chance to talk to her. But the girl was taller, with reddish hair, and I recognized Jennae.

“Mr. L. told me you didn’t want to come today,” she said, studying me with an odd expression.

“That’s true,” I admitted. “I’ve been away for so long, and don’t want to embarrass the group.”

“You could never do that, you’re too good a fencer.” The way she said “too good” didn’t sound like a compliment, but more of a complaint.

“Well, thanks. I love fencing.”

“So much that you’d do anything to get back in the group?” she accused. “Even if it meant kicking someone else off the team?”

The hostility in her voice shocked me. “What are you getting at?”

“Vin was going around saying you were going to take Annika’s place.”

“He
what?”

“Sure she’s not that good yet, but she’s really trying. She almost didn’t go to her aunt’s funeral because she was afraid she’d lose her place in the group.”

So that’s why Jennae had been acting weird toward me—she was protecting her friend. I assured her that I would never take Annika’s place. This caused a huge change in her attitude towards me, and she burst into a smile, then wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug.

“I knew you wouldn’t do anything so mean!” she exclaimed, then she hurried off to meet some friends.

My friends were waiting, too, and I rejoined them.

Manny spotted a kissing booth with ample-chested wenches in low-cut dresses, and he was off. Thorn groaned while I just laughed.

The Renaissance Fair was held partly outdoors in a grassy park with shady oaks and pines, and also included vendors hawking their goods in a large building. Manny wore a smile on his lipstick-smeared mouth as Thorn dragged us through aisles. The theme from
Titanic
played in a lilting flute melody as we went up and down rows of booths. There were vendors selling stone and crystal jewelry, Celtic and Scottish books, porcelain tea sets, Welsh recipes, Heraldry (history of family crests), decorative wands, airbrush tattoos, and ribbon wreaths that many of the girls wore like halos atop their flowing hair. I stopped to admire the hair wreaths, thinking these might be a cute gift for my sisters, but Thorn dragged me over to a display of weapons.

“Wicked swords!” Manny exclaimed, reaching up to touch a Scottish Basket Hilt Claymore. “But check out the price—$235! For that it better be the real thing.”

“If it was real, you’d have to add a few zeros,” Thorn retorted.

Instead of sticking out with her dramatic Goth look, Thorn fit in. Chains, black clothes, and wigs were the norm at this fair. She moved slowly down the aisle, studying each of the upright weapons with a rapt expression.

I didn’t know much about historical weapons and found it fascinating. There were Victorian-styled swords, an English Civil War Basket Sword, a sword with a skull grinning from the hilt, a four-bladed ax, and an awesome sword called “Witch King” that cost over $300.

There were more reasonably priced weapons, and after much deliberation, Thorn decided on a small curved dagger with a dragon’s body and gleaming red glass eyes for only $40. Manny bought a rope necklace with a bulky green stone. And I went back to the booth to buy a pink wreath for Ashley and a blue one for Amy. Impulsively, I purchased a lavender one for myself.

While all of this was fun, I had obligations, too. So we made a stop by the archery area where I dropped off my equipment bag and checked the schedule for the Foils performance. Not until two o’clock. That left plenty of time to see the fair.